On Being Lost

I've been thinking recently about the sensation of being lost. To me, it conjures up two very different emotions. The first is the kind of stomach drop feeling you get when your realize that you have no idea where your are. It's that feeling of being completely alone, and the desperation that accompanies the search for a familiar face, a landmark, something to mark your progress. The second association has more to do with voluntarily letting go, seeking the unknown and unfamiliar,  actually choosing to get lost.

More and more I find myself craving the unfamiliar. You could call it wanderlust, I suppose, but it feels deeper than that. As much as new surroundings can shock me out of my comfort zone, I crave change at the molecular level. For me, change has always been slow and almost undetectable. If you spoke to my former self, I think you'd find them remarkably similar to the person I am now. So many people find their past selves unrecognizable, and yet when I look back I feel like fundamentally the same person I was in the 5th grade: still idealistic, still shy in new situations, still inspired by beautiful words on a page. I suppose I should feel lucky. I've always felt grounded, held in place by the support system of my family and friends and my own sense of who I am and where I want to go. Is it wrong to wish for something as messy and difficult as losing yourself only to find it again, transformed?

I stumbled across a quote the other day that has haunted me ever since. It is a question posed by the Greek philosopher Meno, and it reads:

How will you go about finding that thing which is totally unknown to you?

It's a paradox wrapped in a question wrapped in a dare. How do you look for something you don't even have a name for? Looked at in a different way, it reads as a challenge to take that vital first step into the unknown.

This is something that's been going on inside me for a while, this twisting, this craving for uncertainty and transformation, and I think its finally reached its breaking point. How will I go about finding that thing which is unknown to me? I'll willingly choose to get lost. I'll smother my fear and be accepting of new experiences. I'll seek change in the same way I seek knowledge: by exploring. It won't be easy, and I don't want it to be. What I do want is to be surprised by the person I become.

***

End Note: I feel I should credit my sources of inspiration for this post, not just because they helped shape my point of view, but because they are wonderful in their own right:

A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit

This interview with Jad Abumrad, creator of Radiolab

This blog post by Rachel Coker, who never fails to be an inspiration

Book Review: Vicious by V.E. Schwab

It's been quite a while since I've done a book review on this blog, but then again, it's been quite a while since I've read a book as good as Vicious. When I first heard about it, it didn't sound like something I would be into. I've never really been one for the revenge plot, and often I usually shy away from traditional super hero lore. But, I have a lot of respect for the author, and when other people started reading (and loving) it, I decided to give it a try.

First, a basic plot overview: Victor and Eli started out as college roommates—brilliant, arrogant, lonely boys who recognized the same sharpness and ambition in each other. In their senior year, a shared research interest in adrenaline, near-death experiences, and seemingly supernatural events reveals an intriguing possibility: that under the right conditions, someone could develop extraordinary abilities. But when their thesis moves from the academic to the experimental, things go horribly wrong. Ten years later, Victor breaks out of prison, determined to catch up to his old friend (now foe), aided by a young girl whose reserved nature obscures a stunning ability. Meanwhile, Eli is on a mission to eradicate every other super-powered person that he can find—aside from his sidekick, an enigmatic woman with an unbreakable will. Armed with terrible power on both sides, driven by the memory of betrayal and loss, the archnemeses have set a course for revenge—but who will be left alive at the end? 

Quite honestly, this book blew me away. It was violent, dark, and twisted, and the moral grey area is deliciously, well, grey. The plot swings back and forth in time, switching between the present moment and the events that took place when Victor and Eli were in college. This allows Schwab to slowly ratchet up the suspense with each successive chapter, while revealing key moments in the characters' pasts. 

“All Eli had to do was smile. All Victor had to do was lie. Both proved frighteningly effective.” 

The characters themselves are enigmas, and set against the comic-book-esque, black-and-white world of the book, they seem like utterly fascinating alien beings. I loved Victor's cold, calculating demeanor, and I loved trying and failing to figure out what he was going to do next. Eli is a golden boy with a cracked facade. He feels less developed than some of the other characters, his motivations clear but not as nuanced. Still, he is a good counterpoint to Victor, and just as frightening. My favorite character is Mitch, a hulk of a man who becomes Victor's ally in jail. Schwab plays with appearance vs reality, and many of her characters' true natures are not what you would perceive from a first impression.

The description of this book is a bit misleading in that it makes it seem as though the moral ambiguity is enough to make the reader unsure of whose side they should choose: Victor or Eli's. While the lines between right and wrong are blurred significantly, it is clear who we are meant to sympathize with. The real questions in this book arise from the fact that both characters have deep, irreparable flaws, and they are capable of both benevolence and evil.

“Because you don't think I'm a bad person," he said. "And I don't want to prove you wrong.” 

Despite a couple of places where I had to suspend my disbelief farther than I would have liked, Vicious quickly grew into its place as one of the best books I've read this year. Victoria Schwab's writing is addictive. It has the kind of mesmerizing quality that all the best books have, where you forget you are even reading words on a page. I went into this book with few, if any, expectations, and she surprised me with a tale of suspense, action, and crazy, messed up characters. Super hero fan or not, I highly recommend.

Oh! And look at the GORGEOUS cover for her next book, A Darker Shade of Magic! I could not be more excited!

For a synopsis, click here.

Quote of the Day: Departure

Today was my last day of classes as a college freshman. No matter how many times I say that to myself it still doesn't seem real. So much of my week has been taken up by the weight of everything I have to do before I leave (turn in my last few assignments, study for finals, do laundry, pack), that I haven't had time to think about what it means. Leaving for the summer. Moving out of my dorm room. And then I discovered this quote:

"Packing up. The nagging worry of departure. Lost keys, unwritten labels, tissue paper lying on the floor. I hate it all. Even now, when I have done so much of it, when I live, as the saying goes, in my boxes. Even today, when shutting drawers and flinging wide a hotel wardrobe or the impersonal shelves of a furnished villa is a methodical matter of routine, I am aware of sadness, of a sense of loss. Here, I say, we have lived. We have been happy. This has been ours, however brief the time. Two nights only have been spent beneath a roof, yet we leave something of ourselves behind. Nothing material, not a hair pin on a dressing table, not an empty bottle of aspirin tablets, not a handkerchief beneath a pillow, but something indefinable, a moment of our lives, a thought, a mood. This house sheltered us. We spoke, we loved within these walls. That was yesterday. Today we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again." - Dauphne du Maurier, Rebecca

To me, this quote captures everything I've been feeling and then some. You might think it silly to mourn leaving a place that I know I'll be returning to in three months, but live for two semesters in the confines of a dorm room, and it becomes a home. Of course that's not to say I'm not excited about my living arrangements for next year, but I've grown accustomed to the slamming of the front door to my residence hall (my room is the first door when you enter), and the view outside my window, and the random bits of paraphernalia I have pinned to my cork board. So there is a sadness in the fact that a few days from now, among the chaos that is finals week, I will also be slowly disassembling my room: getting rid of papers, cleaning out drawers, rolling up the rug that I so clearly remember picking out at Ikea last August.
There is something mutable, too, about a dorm room. There will always be the knowledge that it has been inhabited by so many college students before you, and so many more to come. Somewhere out there there are people, probably even a few on this campus, who have their own memories of my dorm room. I think that's why I love the idea of a place's ability to capture "a moment of our lives, a thought, a mood." When I leave this room, I will be leaving behind pieces of freshman year. A year of firsts, and friend-making, and movie-watching. And next year, this room will be a clean slate, its walls bare for someone else to pin their memories to.

A Perfect Summer

I’ve always idealized summer. It exists in my mind as a pocket of time untouched by the laws of every-day life: there are no obligations, and endless possibilities. Instead of being paralyzed by boredom, in my summer, you embrace freedom, harness it. You perfect the act of doing nothing. And of course, the absence of school means that your creativity thrives, and somehow you get more done than you thought possible. I’m aware that this is a paradox, but it is an image I cling to, and it’s been grounded so deeply into my childhood that I can’t seem to separate myself from it. And honestly, I don’t want to. Because when I think about summer, I don’t just think about my perfect summer. There is magic in real summers, too. I’ve seen it first hand. I’ve seen it in the in the stretching of the days, the luxuriously long sunsets, where that impossible green foliage that blankets every tree is momentarily dipped in gold. Later it subsides to a deep blue, and the air is a color like something out of a Monet painting.  I find it in the tiny sandstorm created by the cream as I pour it into a tall glass of iced coffee. It is the morning walks I take with mother and my dog, down a curbless street, filled with birdsong. Occasionally, there are swimming pools. Sometimes, there are long drives in cars under an endless sky. There is rain, too. The kind of summer thunderstorm I haven’t experienced in years. It is a wild rain, punctuated by rumbles that shake the windows of our house, and my mother stands on the front porch, transfixed. 

This is the summer I grew up with. Over the years, it’s changed slightly. It’s been invaded by summer reading books for school, not all of which were bad, and summer assignments which always were. When I learned to drive there was always a nagging sense that I had to go somewhere. Why stay at home when you have a whole city to explore? Still, I often guiltily chose to sit in the backyard and read a book instead. Maybe I idealize summer too much, but when I hear people say that summer is “boring,” I feel indignant. You say the first few weeks weeks are fun. There’s the novelty of it, I guess. But after that, as June yawns into July it’s just another summer, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. I have no patience for this attitude. If you are scared of boredom, your summer will be over before it began. It’s how you use boredom, how you acknowledge it but don’t let it defeat you. Summers are a gift. They are something to be cherished, held in your hands like the blueberries you picked by the bucket-full. Summers are a time capsule to a time when you didn’t need the internet to distract you, when the outdoors was a place you still frequented. And yes, I know it’s hot. I live in a place where humidity makes you feel like you are swimming rather than walking, and mosquitoes gather in prehistoric swarms. In the afternoon the heat presses against windows, and the world is a bug trapped in amber.  

If there is a message here, it is this: Find your perfect summer. Take time to marvel at a rainbow in the arc of a sprinkler, and spend an afternoon in shade that is just cool enough to be bearable. Jump into lakes. Swing from tire swings. If anything, summer reminds us that one moment can feel like an eternity. Inhabit that eternity. Make a home there, and the summer is yours.

The Great Outdoors

 I find myself missing nature lately. I miss the intense quiet that comes along with walking through the woods, the way some sounds are muffled and some, especially human ones, are amplified. It reminds me of how clumsy we really are compared to most animal species, like we can't go anywhere without causing a ruckus. As cliche as it sounds, I miss the sound of birdsong and the roar of rushing water and the rustle of wind through thousands of leaves high above my head. It's not just that, though. It's the way the rest of the world falls away so easily, so quickly, as if cars and fast food chains and skyscrapers never even existed. Nature gives us the power to step away from the complexity of everyday life and simply be alone with ourselves.

From a walk I took while visiting Minnesota over Spring Break

For a few days, it seemed like spring had come to Iowa. Temperatures crept up to the mid 40s. The sun graced us with its presence. I felt the same rush of giddy excitement that always accompanies the approaching of summer. But something was missing. I didn't realize until I moved to Cedar Rapids how much nature a city like my hometown of Houston contains. There are countless nature centers, parks, and even the occasional wild space that remains untouched by development. Plus, I'm pretty sure there are simply more trees in Houston, those incredibly beautiful oaks suspended in frozen reverie, limbs bowing until they almost touch the ground. I'm not saying that Cedar Rapids is lacking in natural beauty. There's the lake where we raced dragon boats during freshman orientation, and the tree outside my dorm room window that I watched change through the seasons. There's even a grassy park by New Bo Market complete with a meditation circle and a rock sculpture. But I'm beginning to realize that spending too much time away from even the tamest of forests is starting to wear on me. I can only take so much of the manicured lawn (or in the winter, barren tundra) that is the quad. Instead, I find myself daydreaming about camping with my dad, how everything tasted better when it was cooked outdoors.

And yet, while reminiscing about my favorite spots, I ran into several things that bothered me. I find it sad that most wild places, even those in the midst of cities, are inaccessible without a car. I find it strange that in Memorial Park, the majority of the patrons use the running paths along the perimeter. On one side of the path is a tangled mass of branches, on the other a busy thoroughfare. Why drive somewhere to be close to nature, but not to immerse yourself in it?

Living in the city, it can be so easy to forget that there are any wild spaces left. We go about our daily lives, in tune with the rhythms of ticking clocks and rush hour traffic, and we don't realize that anything's missing. I didn't even realize how far I'd fallen into this trap until I listened to the following radio programs in short succession. They are informative, imaginative, and inspirational, and they made me re-imagine the way we interact with the natural world:

1. "Wild Ones Live" - 99% Invisible: This episode of one of my favorite podcasts is actually a live recording of a band/author duo that explores the complex intersections between animals and humans.

2. "The Last Quiet Places: Silence and the Presence of Everything"- On Being: Mind-altering interview with Gordon Hempton, "who defines silence not as an absence of sound but an absence of noise."

 I suppose I'll leave you with a quote from an One Square Inch of Silence by Gordon Hempton:

"Silence is not the absence of something but the presence of everything. It lives here, profoundly, at One Square Inch in the Hoh Rain Forest. It is the presence of time, undisturbed. It can be felt within the chest. Silence nurtures our nature, our human nature, and lets us know who we are. Left with a more receptive mind and a more attuned ear, we become better listeners not only to nature but to each other. Silence can be carried like embers from a fire. Silence can be found, and silence can find you. Silence can be lost and also recovered. But silence cannot be imagined, although most people think so. To experience the soul-swelling wonder of silence, you must hear it." [Source]

I hope this long winded assessment of my relationship with nature makes you think a little more deeply about your own. It could be time to consider how long it's been since you took a walk in the woods.

Go-To Inspiration

This blog post is coming to you from my messy brain in my messy dorm room in the midst of my messy life. I've been feeling a little overwhelmed lately. I have so many projects I want to work on. There's school of course, but I'm also trying to step up the discipline in my writing routine. I'm working several work-study jobs, writing for two different blogs (this one and my college's English department), and beginning the search for a summer job in my hometown. Plus, there's a super secret project I can't stop thinking about, and I don't know if it's really worth the time to undertake it or if this is just the honeymoon period. Maybe the excitement will wear off and I'll start hating it, and hating myself for not committing to it, and end up more stressed than when I started.

All of this was causing some creative burn-out, until I stumbled upon this blog post from The Secret Life of Writers. The question it asks is simple: What images will always make you want to write? I've always loved the idea that inspiration is everywhere, but I assumed it was something you had to wait for, that you'd never see it coming. I guess I'd picked up on patterns in the past, but I never saw them as something reliable to turn to when I was at a loss for ideas. Following in the same vein of Heather's post, I thought I'd share a few images that continually make me want to open up a word document and pour my heart out:

1) These paintings by Cy Twombly that hang in The Menil Collection in my hometown:

2) Medieval Tapestries

3) Open windows with white curtains

Photo by Sarah Jane on Flickr

4) Lone canoers on a lake 

5) Road Trips

6) Obscure vintage photography

7) Abandoned houses

I really enjoyed compiling this list, and I hope you find some of these things inspiring as well! Lightning strikes of inspiration are great, but remember, there are always things in your life that inspire you simply because you are drawn to them over and over again. Use these things to your advantage!

Lastly, I would just like say thanks to Heather Marie for her original post. While I too am inspired by things like castles and statues in cemeteries, I had never really dwelled on the mystical qualities of the lighthouse.

Let me know what things inspire you in the comments, and as always, thanks for reading!

Reading Q&A

You probably already knew this about me, but I'm an avid reader. I've been watching a lot of book-tubers recently (People on Youtube who talk exclusively about books and reading. Yes, they're out there!) and many of them have made videos talking about their reading habits, pet peeves, memories, etc. For this post, I compiled a list of twenty questions about books and reading. Most of this stuff isn't new, but I wanted to answer it anyway. I will probably be doing another one of these devoted to writing in the future.

Stats

How many books do you read each month?
This varies a great deal depending on the month. During school, I would say my average is about two, and during the holidays it's probably closer to three or four. Last month I read 5(!) books, which is pretty impressive for me.

What are your reading goals for 2014?
On my Goodreads account my goal is 40 books in 2014. I chose it because it seemed more doable than 50 and more challenging than 30. Really, if I make it to 20 books there year I'll be happy, since last year I only read 16.

Of the books that are on your shelves right now, how many of them are YA? Adult? Non-fiction? Fantasy? Sci-Fi? Classics? Basically what's the genre breakdown like?
Total Number of Books: 45 (Note: These are my dorm room bookshelves, so they're only a small portion of my home library.)
Textbooks/Required Reading: 7
On loan from the library: 5
Classics: 8
Non-Fiction: 2
Contemporary: 9
Fantasy: 6
Poetry: 1
Short Stories: 2
Writing Books: 3
Letter Collections: 1
Historical Fiction: 1

Reading Habits/Preferences

What kind of books do you like to read?
I will read just about anything. My christmas wish list consisted of two non-fiction books, three fantasy (including one about superheroes), one historical fiction, one adult contemporary, and three YA novels.

As for what I look for in a book, I love lyrical prose, compelling, flawed characters, and plots that keep me guessing. A little bit of adventure is always a nice touch.

Do you write in your books? Dog-ear pages? Crack spines? 
To be honest I've always loved the idea of writing all over my books. My english teachers would always expound on the importance of annotating, but I could never do it. Not because I disliked marking in my books (although I think I feel somewhat differently now), but because I would get so caught up in the story that stopping to write down my thoughts felt like I was interrupting something. Plus, if I'd done that then my little freshman year thoughts would be written all over my copy of Slaughter-House Five, and I'm not sure I ever want to revisit them. I like the idea of marking lines that I like, though, and collecting my favorite quotes, so maybe I'll give it a try with some post-it notes.

I am still guilty of dog-earing pages occasionally, but I'm much more partial to book marks now, especially the magnetic ones that clip around the page. And as for cracking spines, this really doesn't bother me, but I'm not one of those people who does it deliberately, like "breaking in" a book.

How do you feel about lending out your books?
If we have talked about books before and I know you will take care of them, I have no problem lending books to people. I'm even not that picky about when I get them back, just so long as I do get them back.

How do you feel about books with illustrations, photographs, or other visual aids?
If they are done well, and really enhance the story, I love them!

What are your thoughts on book to movie adaptations?
I don't get too hung up on the accuracy of the plot in book-to-movie adaptations, as long as the film captures the feel of the book. The movie version of Chocolat is a perfect example. They change a few plot points but the atmosphere is similar, and there are the same magical undertones running throughout. If they start adding characters, though, I get annoyed.

What is one genre you wish you read more of?
Middle-grade. I feel like there are so many great books for kids out there, and I'm missing out because I've "grown out" of them.

Biggest bookish pet peeve?

This new trend in paperbacks where they make the cover shorter than the rest of the book. It just makes it look cheap and gimmicky and it really gets on my nerves! GAH!










Relationship to Reading

What is the first book you remember reading by yourself?
The first book I remember reading by myself was a beautiful picture book version of The Twelve Dancing Princesses. My mom told me she would only buy it for me if I promised to read it by myself. That night I sat at the dining room table and read the whole thing aloud. It was slow-going, but I did it!

Describe your fondest memory of reading:
I have so many! Here are a few:
- In the 5th grade, my friend and I stumbled across The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale in our elementary school's library. We were enamored with the cover and the synopsis, and we discussed which of us would read it first (she won). The Goose Girl would become our favorite book, and it would be one of the building blocks of our friendship. We're both in college now and I still count her as one of my best friends in the whole world. Sometimes I wonder if things would be the same if we hadn't picked up that book.
-On sleepovers, another friend and I would take turns reading pages to each other from our respective books. I kind of wish we still did that.
-My parents read to me almost every night when I was younger, but one of my fondest memories is of my father reading To Kill a Mockingbird aloud. I was too young to fully understand it at the time, but when I finally read it for school I was glad I'd been introduced to it so early. It will always have a special place in my heart for that reason.

Specifics

What is one book you wish everyone knew about?

The Many Deaths of the Firefly Brothers by Thomas Mullen. This book is about gangsters in the 1930's who find out they can't die. The supernatural element is countered by an incredibly detailed setting, and I feel like this book really captures the essence of the Great Depression. It's a richly told story with really fantastic characters, and it's one of my go-to recommendations. Read it. You won't be sorry.





What is your favorite Harry Potter book?

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. It's been a very long time since I read this series, but I think I can safely say this one's my favorite. A lot of people dislike it because of how angsty Harry is, and I see where they're coming from, but I just can't get over all the great characters in this book! Umbridge is positively loathsome, and then there's the members of the Order and of Dumbledore's Army, and it all culminates in the awesome conclusion in the Ministry of Magic. Yep, definitely my favorite.




What is your favorite book you had to read for school?

The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector. I read this last semester for my Literature: The City class, and fell in love with it. It is told from the POV of a writer who is telling the story of a girl living in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, and it becomes not only a portrait of the slums but an examination of writing itself. This book was unlike anything I've ever read before, and it really made me think differently about what fiction can do.





If you had to recommend a book to a self-proclaimed "non-reader," what would it be?

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan. This books has everything. Antique books. Technology. Young geniuses and ancient librarians. Secret societies. It spans from San Francisco to New York City to Google Headquarters. It's funny and profound and it has some really interesting things to say about the value of old things and the possibilities of new technology. Overall a thoroughly enjoyable read that I would recommend to anyone who is on the fence about reading.





Out in the World

How do you mingle w/ other book lovers, both online and off?
I love attending any kind of book event, large or small. My favorite would probably have to be the Texas Book Festival, which takes place in Austin, Tx each fall. The authors this event attracts, plus the endless book tents (Be still my heart!) make me wish this event lasted for a week and not just a weekend.
Online, I read blogs (Like this one) and watch book channels on Youtube (Like this one).

What is the name of your favorite book store?
This question is a lot harder for me than I originally thought. I love all bookstores. I love Barnes & Noble, where I know I can always find the newest releases. I love Faulkner House Books in New Orleans, which is tiny but steeped in history. I love Book People in Austin, which is big enough to get lost in, and Prairie Lights in Iowa City which feels like a second home. If I had to pick a favorite, though, it would be Brazos Bookstore in my hometown of Houston, Tx. It's small, but has a great selection (including a budding YA section, which makes me happy). It's sophisticated, but not stuffy, and the staff is always friendly. Maybe it's because it's located in my hometown, but this bookstore will always feel like home to me.

What bookstore or library would you most like to visit?

Shakespeare and Company.  It is located in the heart of Paris, steeped in literary history, and actively promotes writers and writing. Who could ask for more?







Describe your ideal home library:
My ideal home library would also be my writing study. Three of the walls are floor to ceiling bookshelves, with rolling ladders, of course. The fourth wall is taken up by a large window, preferably overlooking the Irish countryside. Facing the window is a large wooden desk, upon which sits my computer and other writing supplies. In the back corner is a comfy second-hand arm chair and a floor lamp, where I can read late into the night. A telescope sits by the window, and because I live in the Irish countryside, I can actually use it to look at stars and planets without the glare of light pollution.


Well, there you have it. If you've gotten this far, I applaud you. If you'd like to answer these questions as well, feel free to steal and modify them as you wish. Happy reading!