Day 10: The Twilight Nightmare Review (Part 2) [Spoilers]

I have managed to finish the rest of the book and I will say that I have never ever encountered any other book that managed to evoke such a feeling of unbridled annoyance and seething anger within me. This has got to be the first book to ever put me into a 4 day bad mood slump. Page after page after page I just feel angrier and more irate. Now, I’d like to make it clear that it isn’t the storyline that gets to me but the way the entire piece was written. It was grueling! Why? Here’s why:

• The author needs to describe each and every little nitty-gritty detail – No, not per dialogue. Almost all of the dialogue lines are followed with the quirks that each of the characters do during the said line. It felt more like a script for a screenplay rather than a novel. For instance, “‘I don’t know,’ he whispered.” or “‘Let’s go,’ I urged.” or “‘Hello, Edward,’ I said pleasantly, to show him I was going to behave myself.” The list just goes on and on. And by on and on I mean throughout the entire book. I didn’t see a single dialogue where there was no explanation of the characters actions or tone. A good author should be able to SHOW not TELL. (Show, don’t tell is a technique often employed by writers to enable the reader to experience the story through action, words, thoughts, senses, and feelings rather than through the author’s exposition, summarization, and description.) Stephanie Meyer is probably the antithesis of Ernest Hemingway. I’m pretty sure he’ll be rolling his grave after hearing about this piece of horse shit.
• There are just far too many superlatives – What is Edward if not this epitome of perfection. At least that’s how he was described in the book. I stopped counting the number of times Bella described him as flawless. She would probably describe his butt cheeks as “wondrous lumps of manly perfection” if the editors allowed it. Sure, she was madly in love, but this takes worship to a whole new level. I’ve ground my molars down to smooth pieces of calcite after I’d grit my teeth from rage after every description of Edward’s (insert body part/attribute/attitude here). You’ve said it once. You don’t have to waste the reader’s time saying it again and again every time Edward does anything (including raising an eyebrow).
• The plot took forever to move – The book was full of fluff. Too much fluff. It was so bad that I was able to go and skip several pages and not miss a beat. That much fluff. I actually appreciated the story more by reading this: http://thebestnotes.com/booknotes/Twilight_Meyer/Twilight_Study_Guide01.html. The story is actually worth the read if you look at this summary. But I would never ever recommend reading the original book written by Meyer. I would expect that given the vocabulary level that she was using that she should at least match some of the fanfics written high-schooler. But no.
• No character development – Characters were very one sided. There was neither growth nor change within the characters that would help the reader to feel emotionally attached to them. The characters were flat and no amount of progress in the book improved this.
• Plot holes, plot holes everywhere! – Was mentioned in the first half of my review and I’ll mention it now. Why Bella moved to Fork? Nope. What about the history of her mom and dad? Nope. At least the Cullen family had an entire chapter dedicated to their family background but did they tie Meyer tie the know of the first plot hole? Nope.

That being said, I’m sorely disappointed at the level of literature that the readership/followers of the Twilight Saga display. As my father put it during one of our family discussions on this book… “…people will often get hooked into these kinds of things if they don’t have a background of what a good book is. If their basis for a good book is a teenage love story or some short smut, then Twilight is a good book. But if they have experiences with all sorts of different literature, then they can decide if Twilight is actually a good book.” It makes sense. Depending on the level of exposure people have with literature, it affects their definition of “good”. Again, I’d like to state that I’m not bashing the story of Twilight. I have nothing against low-fantasy love stories but I would never recommend this book to anyone I know.

Day 9: The Twilight Nightmare Review (Part 1) [Spoilers]

So, here I am, reading this book: Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. As much as my initial abhorrence towards it goes (this hate is further amplified the further I read the book), I have to say that I was able to finish the preface and Part 1: First Sight roughly within a day after getting it. Now, let us get on with the review of my first encounter with what would most aptly be called “Popular Fanfiction”.

The whole story started innocuously enough with this girl, Bella, who was moving to Fork (someplace in America) from Phoenix (also another place in America) to live with her dad. All throughout the preface there was this continuous atmosphere of animosity towards her moving. Nothing but hateful words to describe the big shift. Why? I have no idea. The early parts of the book doesn’t even hint as to why Bella was moving to Fork. She did mention that she liked it in Phoenix and living with her mom. Yet, I remain hopeful that somewhere in the later parts of the book that this mystery will be unveiled.

We move on to Part 1 of the book. We have Bella settling in her new home in Fork where the world is gray and the skies are mostly cloudy. Being the bitchy angsty teenage book that this is, of course the main female protagonist needs to go to a high school. After all, aren’t all teenage romance books set in schools? And this is where she meets the main protagonist/love interest that sets the pace for the entire book, Edward. So far that’s how much I’ve read.

Now on to my comments after reading the first few bits of this book:

• First, I’ve said it already, was the lack of motivation and description as to why Bella would actually move. The entire preface could’ve been removed and it wouldn’t affect the story.
• Second, the author seemed to have this affinity for describing crap ranging from unnecessary surroundings to useless scenes. But, there was no shortage of this lack with the description of Bella. All throughout there were only two direct descriptions for her: Pale and long haired. But do take note during the end of Part 1 there was this line “I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once, instead of red.” That’s fucking right. Everything I knew about her was a lie! At least 50% of what I knew about her was.  Apart from this, she would cry for no apparent reason, bitch for no apparent reason, be angsty for o apparent reason. Then again, if someone wanted to read a book with reason, he/she wouldn’t be reading Twilight.
• Lastly, I couldn’t stand how many superlatives were used to “describe” Edward. If “describe” was an apt word for this. During a short scene where the author introduces edward, a total of 16 superlatives and vague words were used to describe the features of this Edward person: beautiful coal black eyes, attractive voice, absurdly handsome, gorgeous, nice-looking, perfect lips, beautiful boy, inhumanely beautiful, features were straight, perfect, angular and so on and so forth. None of these things tell me how he actually looks like except for some short line saying Edward has brown hair and coal black eyes. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

Whew. Now that’s over. I have to get this bad taste. I’m praying ever so much that it’ll get better. I hope… I really really do.

Day 8, (June 6, 2013): CITY OF DUST (Part 1)

How we got to this point in our lives is a long story; long enough to say that it consists of our every waking second. But a lot of people like long stories, right? Long stories aren’t just for the sake of words. We have to tell what we hear, what we see, what we feel, and what we discover. This very well may either be fact or fiction but no matter who tells the story, it will always be something worth listening to. Albeit some gibberish might make its way into the pipeworks, I’m sure there’ll still be some value to pick up from the ramblings of a madman.

As with most good stories, it is preferable to have a beginning, middle, and end. It may or may not be in that specific order either. Even now I wonder where to begin or end. Oh! I know… I should start with…

 

…The City of Dust Angels. That’s what they called it. The skies above spewed a constant stream of smog and silt across the metropolis. Rain shied away from this place as though the land itself repulsed the petrichor. They say you can lie on the street with your back on the asphalt and flap your arms and move your legs to leave a shadow of a divine imprint on the ground. Of course, there was nothing divine about the city.

The litter-strewn streets huffed and puffed with the pulse of the metro. Peddlers were peddling their wares screaming at the top of their lungs trying to lull potential buyers. Garbage just piled up higher and higher like plaque on the streets of this slowly decrepifying town. Buildings several stories high rose high blotted out a good portion of the morning sun. The shade was a welcome reprieve for all the hawkers and consumers.

As I plodded along these dirt-laden streets of desolation, I found myself surrounded by strangers wallowing away in their own destitution. It didn’t sully them the least bit it seemed. They held a countenance that was not fitting of their stature in life. They were hopeful. It was a curious sight indeed. No matter how many times I’ve already passed through the same roads over and over again the common aura of the different people that I saw everyday was downright surprising.

It was around this marketplace that I had an encounter of the most unusual kind…

Day 7, (May 24, 2013): DREAMS

Each cloud drifting across the boundless horizon carries with it on board the dreams and wishes of a thousand souls. The dials on the timepieces struck seventeen in melodious harmony with the ticks and tocks of the clockworks that filled that dusty book-laden room. Refreshing winds blew through the open windows of the hut on the overlook; a worn pelagic home that teeters with whiffs of brine and nostalgia.

Inside the small two leveled hovel a youthful man with his nose dug deep within his archives of ink sits alone. He takes on the role of a grammarian ruefully architecting syllables. Within his mind lies a hidden and unexplored world. Its citizens are wandering thoughts across a plane of ephemeral existence. A populace created from castellated paradoxes and hidden caches of moonlight.

“You see it too, don’t you?”

“See what?”

“Everything.”

“My eyes are perfectly fine. 20-20 last time I checked.”

“Can you imagine?”

“My imagination is working just as well.”

“Then can you help me?”

“Help you with what?”

“Creating a world…”

“You must be mad.”

“I do believe so.”

“I see…Very well.”

“Very well what?”

“Very well I’ll support you in your mad plans.”

“Now which one of us is mad?”

Day 6, (May 23, 2013): CHEESE

There is always something particular about the facial expression of someone. Be it either happiness or grief, people will always have their own personal look. A sharp poke to the side can cause a grimace to others but may result in a happy giddy giggle for someone else. Everyone has a unique reaction towards certain stimuli.

Consider this simple case. You and your group of friends are hanging around in a bar. The entire place is rowdy. There are noisy patrons chatting away with their companions raising their voices at each other as if they believe they can defeat the blaring sound system. The dance floor is full of people thumping up and down in fierce cadence. You look to the left and you see someone just sitting at the bar table slowly nursing away at his scotch on the rocks hoping to be placed in an alcohol induced stupor before day breaks. In the corner of your eye you notice two males in swanky suits flirting away with girls dressed in skimpy outfits wearing enough makeup to pass as clowns.

Most of the people in the bar, assuming they’re still relatively sober and can still react to inducements, will pretty much respond the same way. The moment someone points a camera towards their direction and screams out “cheese!” they’d look at the camera, and smile.

Day 5, (May 22, 2013): POTATO

Hail, holy tater, mother of earthy, hail our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To you do we cry, poor famished children of peeved. To you do we send up our sights, morning and evening in this valley of cheers. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile show us the blessed root of thy womb with cheeses.

O’ spud, whose only begotten sun, by its life, death, and resurrection, has purchased for us the rewards of eternal salvation. Grant, we beseech thee, that while meditating on these mysteries of the most holy rosemary of the blessed virgin olive oil, that we may both imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise, through starch and lard. Amen.

Day 4, (May 21, 2013): CLEANING

            There are just some days when I have this strange urge to clean the area around me. More often than not, these urges are constituted by the fact that I have my mother breathing down my neck with some focused killing resolve. Given the multitude of these circumstances of coercion, I have devised an optimal system that will present the said area as a ‘clean’ area with minimal effort on my end. I believe that these tips will be helpful to those who wish to create an illusion of cleanliness in their surrounding areas.

1. Make as much floor/desk/bed area visible – Too many times have I heard cries of shock and amazement from people who enter my room being able to walk unhindered across my rug. A simple trick that will get anyone who enters a previously ‘messy’ room into believing a false sense of freedom while traversing the area.
2. Stash your junk somewhere else – Another common tactic employed by those of the lazy pack rat. Move from a noticeable location A to discreet location B. Use this only if you really don’t have any intention of getting rid of that dirty old sock you use as an unmentionable but everyone insists you get rid of it.
3. Dust it where it counts – Ever had those annoying moments where someone would run their finger along the edge of your desk and just look so disappointed with the amount of grime? Very rarely would someone actually do the same gesture underneath your drawers or under your bed. So just make sure you clean the area most obvious to the passing inspector.
4. Don’t announce that you’re done – This leaves some room to improvise with some magical bullshit. When le inspektor checks out the place and says that it’s still dirty just say that you’re not yet done and you’re just taking a break. Otherwise, they would be amazed at neat you managed to make your little hovel in the wall look and leave you to your own devices.

Day 3, (May 20, 2013): MNMALSM

Day 3, (May 20, 2013): MNMALSM

Darkness

  Ark

     Ren

(K)ne-e(a)d

Nonsense

Day 2, (May 17, 2013): WRITE

            “Just write, my boy.” said the withering voice in my head.

            “Just write and write and don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. Don’t even give a damn about what you think. Don’t write and edit at the same time. It’ll get you nowhere. Don’t go back to what you just wrote. Just write and write.”

            “Ignore the grammatical errors. Ignore the faulty syntaxes. Ignore the prepositions and verbs that are all in disarray. Ignore the judgments. Ignore the words that repeat. Ignore the repeating words. Ignore the lines. Ignore the spelling. Just write and write.”

            “Write as though you are on your last breath. Write as though you just want to let words out. Write as though there are a million thoughts you want to express. Write as though you have planets and worlds inside you trying to get out. Just write and write.”

            “And when all the words are spent just stop. Wait… then just write and write again.”

Day 1, (May 16, 2013): BEGINNINGS

Day 1, (May 16, 2013): BEGINNINGS

I guess it’s time to bring out the proverbial (or should I say metaphorical) pen and just write something. Just a little project  to fend off the doldrums of the daily grind. There are many ways people keep their minds honed. For moi, I like to whet my soft squishy cerebrum on the precipice of creative delights: drawing, personal writing, random thinking. Things I haven’t done in ages. Well, aside from staring off randomly into space of course. But that’s a given. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t gawp into my own private delusions.

             Of course, a curious quandary I would suffer right now would be a subject for this piece. Should I be writing on the toils and drama of the morning commute to the workplace? Should I go about and blather on with random lines raving on like a madman? These are all such useless grandiloquence in so as much as I have decided to rant about the difficulty of crafting the perfect introduction or beginning.

            Being obsessive and (partially) compulsive when it comes to work perfection, it has always been such an annoying habit to take forever and a day to actually start anything. The constant fear and foresight that comes with the imaginary portents of impending failure and flaw is something that is rather hard to get rid of. Nevertheless, some small push, be it from either a muse or an angry mother, is usually enough to get my gears started. Once the gears have been oiled, everything runs rather seamless. As such, I would like to stress the importance of oftentimes overlooked nudges.

            I surprised myself being able to write this much in such a short amount of time. My work addled mind seems to be creatively functioning despite the long hiatus. Hopefully I can get back to writing more and more again.

 

(WOOOO! FIRST POST! NO EDITS! NO NOTHING! JUST WORDS! SCREW YOU GRAMMAR NAZIS!)