Books

Books that Matter: The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien

Books that Matter

I remember the day I started The Fellowship of the Rings. I was thirteen years old, in the seventh grade. It was mid-December, just before winter break. The first Lord of the Rings movie had just been released, and my family planned on going to see it on Christmas Even.

I had just over a week to read it. I finished The Hobbit the day before. I couldn’t wait to start.

My Language Arts teacher lent me the book. That afternoon, I started to read. The book was dense, but I devoured every word. I finished on December 23, 2001. For Christmas that year, my parents gave me the trilogy. Those copies are dog-eared now, the covers ripped and peeling, the pages still in tact (somehow). I am not certain how many times I read them, but the number is probably close to 20.

The stories captivated me. They entranced me. The elves, the hobbits, the orcs and the men of the West. Gollum. Gandalf. After many readings, my favorite characters have changed. These days, I am very fond of Faramir and Eomer, and Eowyn as well. I will always be fond of Sam as well.

The Lord of the Rings inspired my writing. I discovered it about the time when I determined that I could write novels if I really wanted to. Naturally, my first attempts were blatant rip-offs as I attempted world building, but I soon realized that I could take inspiration from the world. Already a mythology nut, I delved deeper into the Nordic, Irish and Welsh stories, learning and reading.

I also realized, importantly, that making up a language is tough. It wasn’t just random words thrown together. There needed to be continuity, traceable roots, rules, etc. You can’t just chuck vowels together and call it a day. At this time, I also began learning German, followed by Spanish. Seeing how these languages worked gave me great respect for Tolkien’s linguistic capabilities; I’ve resolved to stay away from creating my own languages.

It’s been years since I have read the trilogy, must be senior year of high school. The stories, the characters, stay with me fondly. I look forward to reading them again some day, to bask in the epicness of it all.

Revisiting Old Stories

General Geekiness

I was poking about on my hard drive today when I discovered some stories written through the years. Some of them I wrote over four years ago; its enjoyable to look back and see what I was thinking about then. I reread one of my favorites from that era, a story about super heroes and villains who, apart from being superpowered, are normal folks. I still like my plot and the idea, but I could do a lot with the writing. It has been four years, and I have improved.

The other story is the one that was giving me so much trouble last year. All I could remember from it was that a) I hated the protagonist, b) it is set somewhere in Italy and c) it’s a bit obvious that I adore The Prisoner.  And while I still hate the protagonist (funny, because in rereading I see myself in him. Not a great deal, but enough), I still think the story has potential. I am quite enamoured with the setting and with the basic premise. I had some good descriptions.

I need to revisit the first story, rewrite it so its cleaner, more epic and awesome in scope. I had a pretty decent world built up, I’d like to explore it more.

For the second story, I need to work on defining the main character, the primary antagonist, and the plot. Once I have these elements figured out, I should be able to press forward.

Looks like I’ll have some creative writing projects this summer. Hurrah!

Books that Matter: Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Books that Matter

The first of my “Books that Matter” series of essays.

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones remains one of my favorite books, close to ten years after I first read it.

The main characters, from Sophie to Howl to Calcifer to Michael feel like people I know. I care about them, I laugh at their comments, and delight in their flaws. They grow and progress as characters over the course of the book and do so organically. Their actions make sense, and above all, are believable.

Secondly, Ms Wynne Jones’s writing style. The pacing is good, and the book is genuinely funny. Like classic Disney movies and Pixar films, the book operates on two levels–the “ooh, this is fun! I like this!” level I first enjoyed as a young teen–and a different, can’t-quite-put-my-finger-on-it level I appreciate now that I’m older. I’m close to Sophie’s age (I think I’m actually a little older than she is), but I can relate to her.

The humor. The characters. As a writer, I hope to infuse my own work with a clearly humorous note, and have characters that shine, and are memorable. Her humor is traceable back to the characters, capitalizing on their flaws and little tics, such as when the terribly vain Howl fills the castle with green slime because his hair has turned ever-so-slightly ginger. While not a realistic situation, I’m sure that many of us have known a vain person in our lives or wanted to cover stuff in slime when having a bad day.

Ms Wynne Jones, you were a fantastic writer. I had always dreamed of meeting you, of telling you how much your books mattered to me when I was younger, and how much I still enjoy them today. When I have children of my own, I will be certain to share my love of your books with them. Rest in peace.

Books that Matter

Books that Matter

An idea came to me the other day I thought about the “15 Books that Changed My Life” meme I filled out a couple of years ago, listing books that had piqued my interest and had shaped who I was as a reader and a writer.

As I dried my hair, I realized that this list had changed in the year-and-a-half since I wrote it, and that the list of books was never really stuck on 15. Also, I couldn’t describe what, exactly, made this book so important to me.

Hence this new feature. I’m not sure how frequently I’ll be updating it (I’d love to write it weekly and have it appear on Saturdays).

Sunshine and Happiness

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

A snippet of a conversation between Holmes and I:

Me (holding a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo): “I can’t wait to finish my paper so I can move on to sunshine and happiness!”

Holmes:…

Me: “Sunshine and happiness there being epic, depressing French novels.”

Whenever I finish reading one of Victor Hugo’s books, I feel a big gaping hole in my chest. Since I don’t think my school’s library has anything more of his, I’ve moved onto Dumas. I have yet to start, but I am so looking forward to reading The Count of Monte Cristo.  And get through reading it without slipping up and saying “Monte Crisco.”

Bibliophiles Anonymous

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Hello, my name is Beth and I am a bibliophile.

I have been a bibliophile for most of my life, from the days when my parents would stack cardboard books by my crib, from the days where I memorized Madeliene and convinced my father I could read (little did he realize that I held the book upside down), to the days when I read my first real chapter book, Ann Rinaldi’s A Break With Charity, when I was 8.

My room is filled with books. Stacks of them. Old books, new books, books that have been thumbed through a thousand times and books that I have yet to read. Not to mention all of the books I have floating about in my head, waiting to be written.

My recent book loves are varied. Histories of spy organizations, children’s books of the Dahl variety and epic French literature (I finished Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame and will be reading Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo soon). My time to enjoy these works is slim. But still I read.

Books…oh how to praise them without resorting to the usual cliches? They are entertaining and enlightening. We can travel to new worlds and learn about ourselves through characters in books.

But, why do I love books so? Why do I love reading? Writing?

Honestly, I don’t know. My mom bribed me when I was little so I wouldn’t watch TV. $1 a week bonus to allowence if I watched less than 2  hours of TV. It worked pretty well–I didn’t watch any TV show until Lost premiered in 2004 (and I’ve been a pretty loyal fan; am finally watching season 6). But I digress.

My love of books began long before those days and has continued even after I belatedly discovered the awesome stories that can air on TV (24, Lost, The Prisoner) and how great movies are. If anything, I’ve become more of a bibliophile, being drawn to new authors, and to more classic works. If it hadn’t been for The Prisoner, I doubt I would have read Kafka’s The Trial or anything by John Le Carre (I love research. Have I said that before? I LOVE RESEARCH).

Books, unlike television, aren’t dependent on a schedule or pricey cable package. I can always go to the library and get something new to read.