life ponderings

I wrote a poem once, just after my mother died, that began with the line, “grief is a strangeness of being”. I have returned to that line time and time again since then. Because I’m deciding that life is actually a strangeness of being. Relationships, which make up the core of life I think, are such interesting, funny things. I reached this time of my life, the “middle age” part of life, and as I look back and I look forward and I try to decipher what it all means, who I am, and what God is doing…it all just feels strange and weird at times. :) I recently read an article where the gentlemen was speaking about this very thing, the strange bits of reaching 40 and how life is such a mix. Hitting the age where I can look back and recognize so many things I didn’t know back in my teen years and my twenties. Things where experience is the only teacher. Suffering and grief. My ideals of what I imagined life could be and how my desires could possibly play out…take marriage and children for example. On the one hand, those are beautiful gifts that some are given and are a wonderful treasure. A beautiful part of life that should be cultivated and prayed over. But along with those comes the also true reality that they are HARD. I have friends and acquaintances who are walking some really hard roads in those areas. Or take family life. Imagining I’d have my parents around to walk beside and help and ask questions…suddenly that’s no longer even a possibility… What does one do with that in our culture? It feels odd and “other”. 

I just got back from a week in northern Idaho, a state I’ve never visited before. (I did drive through a portion of the southern bit as a friend and I drove from Washington to Yellowstone a long many years ago, but that hardly counts as “visiting”.) It was beautiful! It truly is a beautiful area, with mountains and pine trees, a huge lake and big sky. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing that part of this great big country of ours. But I also faced the awkward, uncomfortable feelings of spending time in close proximity over the weekend part of my trip with people I’d either never met before or didn’t know very well. I don’t know that I’m absolutely a full on introvert, but I do have a great many tendencies that way. So facing the uncomfortable bits with no one I knew super well to fall back on and knew I could cling to of sorts and they would understand me…in crowds that can be a bit nerve-wracking to say the least. And I’d forgotten just how much walking through experiences in the midst of that uncomfortableness wears on me. How easy it is to doubt myself when I’m there. How easy to fall back on old, bad habits of assuming what I perceive as my weak points seem even more glaring and obvious to others. Which means pride and a misunderstanding of who God created me to be come to the forefront and can overtake my thought life. Ah, but now with a bit of time and a sweet conversation with a friend who simply “gets” me and loves every bit of me that she’s been witness to (and goodness has she witnessed a lot through the years! :), I’m seeing the trip and myself a bit more clearly.

Why is it all the things God works in and through us seem to dissipate when we’re landing face first in the midst of whatever thing makes us uncomfortable? As I sit here in a coffee shop, happily sipping on a Mexican mocha and simply taking a bit of time to sit back and ponder life…to write something…anything really…this is my element. I treasure these moments of just being. Sitting in the midst of people, where I could interact if I choose…or not if I choose…instrumental music in my ears and my laptop open before me…words flowing (though who knows if these words makes sense to anyone but me)…this is one of my top happy places. And I forget that. I forget that I need to find ways to incorporate this kind of thing when I’m heading somewhere I’m going to be uncomfortable. To at least make time for it after the uncomfortable experience is over…so I can remind myself that the uncomfortable situation really, truly wasn’t as bad as the awkward that my brain lingers within. Much of the time that uncomfortable was super good for me, number one, and number two, it was likely much more enjoyable than I feel like it was…

Why is it so easy to get caught up in the negative feelings and forget all the good ones I’ve felt? Because that trip had SO many good ones. It’s just that the harder ones rise to the top of the pile of feelings so quickly and linger there…linger so long that I can almost forget there are good ones down underneath! Our enemy is far too good at what he does…but praise Jesus HE is greater. And He brings the friend conversation, or the time to journal, or whatever means He chooses to use to remind me that I am far from forgotten and that the truth of my feelings, the truth of what I’ve experienced, the good things He is doing, the good things He has already done, the transformation He is working inside me exists and is real and true!

“I am the recipient of someone else’s choices, someone much younger and less mature. I am the inheritor of a previous generation’s foolishness—and also, the fool…I am both alive and dying at the same time, keenly aware of the end and lucid about what has been. Anne Lamott once wrote, “I am all the ages I’ve ever been.” Anyway I’m not sure if it’s possible to ever feel the age you are, when in fact, you are all of them.” – Jeff Goins

I feel that way, I especially felt that way in Idaho. Feeling the weird juxtaposition of who I am now and who I was in my teens and twenties, which I always carry with me, but was confronted with more fully as I saw people who I don’t really know but saw a lot at different points in my youth. Looking at people I remembered from back then, people I didn’t know then either but assumed a whole lot of incorrect things based on my limited perception of their actions and who their friends were. Recognizing how I have changed in the intervening years, having forgotten that they were doing the same outside of my sphere of seeing, and now viewing these same people from this perspective. Seeing different ones from the different eras of my life. Some who were completely new and I was seeing through the eyes of a forty-one year old. Some who I first viewed through teenage eyes and now trying to figure out who they are in this time and place (likely parts of who they’ve always been only I didn’t really know them then either). Some who were part of the intervening years between my teens and my forties, the twenties and early thirties that I spent growing up and figuring out who I thought I was…and now viewing them through the eyes of one who has since experienced suffering and grief which has changed and shaped who I am now and how that has shaped me and how it has changed my perception of them again…

I carry all my ages with me now. And as I learn to navigate the me of now, carrying all the me’s of before, allowing God’s continuing work to transform them all…my perception of others has changed. It’s that strangeness of being I talked about before. Recognizing my own strangeness of being right alongside of other people’s strangeness of being and learning to accept and love all of us, including myself. Growing more compassionate, more committed to prayer and lifting those I have contact with, even limited contact, up to the throne of grace. Becoming more aware on the daily that this one life we get is hard. Who we are in a human sense is always changing…yet who we are in the glorious eyes of our Heavenly Father never does! He has loved and is loving and will continue to love each and every single bit of all the me’s from then to now to eternity! And He draws me to love myself as He loves and from that place of acceptance and wonder to then love others with unselfish abandon. To see them through my ever changing eyes which rest on our unchanging God and allow both views to bring me to love and love and love, ever and always.

My bookish confession...

Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash

Hello, my lovelies! Yes, this is confession time. Bookish confessions, of course! :) I've been pondering my reading life and realized something I should just own up to out loud (or, you know, in writing, at least). So you may just be horrified when you read the next paragraphs. (Or perhaps not, we shall see.)

So! My bookish confession? Is that I have spent a whole lot of my adult years pretty much determined not to read anything of depth. I loved romantic stories and refused to be willing to even contemplate reading something a little different, something that would require me to think a little harder. Friends would recommend a book that did not fall within my usual genres and I would tell them I was considering reading it when deep down inside I knew I was lying because I'd never read it, nope, not for me. There. I said it. (Wrote it? You know what I mean.) Even as embarrassing as this feels, I want to be honest.

Now. I feel I should clarify what I mean by saying that of all the books I've read over my entire life, there are a lot that have depth, that are so much more than just another romance. (I certainly don't want someone to go look at my Goodreads lists and assume that all those books are shallow!) But the type of books I'm referencing fall under other categories, such as classics, autobiographies, memoirs, and just nonfiction in general. Books by older authors, not contemporary ones. But also contemporary books that aren't just a simple romance. 

I don't know if that paragraphs makes any sense, I keep reading over it again and I don't know how to better get my point across. I just know that I'm no longer satisfied to simply read a sweet romance story. Now don't get me wrong! I am not eliminating those books from my TBR altogether! I'm just more willing to honestly try a book that is out of my reading comfort zone, so to speak. I want to read something that will surprise me because so many of the books I've been reading in recent years haven't truly surprised me. Some have, but not most. I want to try another Charles Dickens novel, even if I hate it. I want to read CS Lewis' nonfiction, even if I struggle my way through understanding what he's telling me. I want to read books that will make me think. I've read a whole lot of books that have only entertained me for a few hours, that allowed me to shut off my brain and wallow in make believe. And I still feel like there's a place for those books. I'm not saying that we shouldn't read them. I mean, I just read a couple Jane Austen sequels a couple Sundays ago and they didn't make me think at all, they were just fun.

However, I'm finally tired of only using reading as an escape, I want to allow books and stories to help me understand my world better. They've always done that to a certain extent, but now I want to actively seek it out, not simply stumble over it occasionally. 

I want to read out of my comfort zone. 

"It is only by struggling with difficult books, books over one's head, that anyone learns to read." ~Mortimer Adler

Probably most of you reading this right now have been reading such for years. I admit to feeling slightly embarrassed that it took me this long to be willing to even entertain the idea in my mind, let alone be willing to challenge myself to actually do it. I should've had this epiphany a long time ago, instead of in my late 30s. But there you go. And here I am. Better late than never, right? (I hope.)

So. I haven't gotten terribly far yet, in attempting this. But I have made a bit of progress. And I'm determined not to give up! What about you? Have you always read out of your typical genres? Have you been more like me and just always gravitated towards what was easier? Or has your reading journey been different than even those two options? 

And lastly, how about recommending one of your most favorite books that doesn't fall under the contemporary romance genre! I need more books on my TBR, don't you? ;)

books we relate to

Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash

I was reading through my drafts here on blogger. You know, those posts you began but never finished? Perhaps no one else does this, but I had 12 draft posts just sitting there. A few definitely worth deleting because you don't even want to know just how old they were and how not-relevant to my life now. *shakes head at younger me* ;)

Anyhoo! One such draft was this one. Which only had two sentences. And a link to an old blog post of Suey's. Reading over the article again made my mind spin with ideas and lo and behold! Here I am with a post. Yay me.

So! Books we relate to. In the blog post (in case you don't want to go read it, no judgment don't worry) Suey's friend Jenny mentions about how a certain book really connects with her. (I'm assuming it still does anyway, this many years later.) I completely understood what she meant because as I thought on it, that is precisely one of the main reasons why I love certain books over others. I have a lot of booklikes, but books I love? I have to love and connect with the characters. I have to relate to something they are experiencing or something inherent in their personalities. That connection will take a booklike straight to booklove for me. (Not always guaranteed, of course, but more often than not.)

Connecting with a character is HIGHLY important to me. (I think that's true in my real life as well. I deeply love being able to connect with people around me. If I can find something we share in common and we have opportunity to chat about it? That person is forever a sweet spot in my heart, and that conversation doubly so.)

Here are a few literary examples for you:

Anne from Persuasion by Jane Austen :: I relate to so much of Anne's thoughts and personality. A great deal of her outer circumstances have created a rich inward life for her and I get that. Plus her phase of life is one I understand as well. She's a huge reason why I love this book so much. (That and Captain Wentworth, of course. I LOVE Wentworth a whole, whole bunch too! ;)

Valancy from The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery :: I love Valancy. I don't personally have an awful family who basically browbeat me like she does, but I completely understand how she feels a little lost and unknown. How uncertain she is. Oh how I get that! And I love journeying with her as she finds her voice. Her story fills me with hope.

Autumn from Life After by Katie Ganshert :: I read this book during the year after my mother passed away and cried a bucket nearing the end. I just completely understood the grief journey Autumn was on. Grief is hard and jarring at times, yet gentle and constant at the same time. It's a strange sort of being and Ms. Ganshert wrote so much of what I could not put words to. (The way this story spoke so wonderfully to my grieving heart has made me slightly hesitant to read it again, for fear of not loving it so much now, which is just silly I know.)

Cori from My Hands Came Away Red by Lisa McKay :: I would say I connected to so much of the feelings of many of the characters in this one, not just Cori. I haven't ever been in such a terrifying situation such as they are, yet I still understand their fears, their uncertainties, their struggles to work together as a team with others that they don't always understand. I just got it. Plus the fact that they're overseas in another country and culture that they don't understand and yet have to survive in, that spoke to my longing for travel even before I ever imagined getting to go overseas myself! :)

These are just a few examples. There are many more and we'd be here for pages and paragraphs longer if I were to truly analyze what I related to in every story that I LOVE. (So I won't do that to you. ;) But I can say, again, that the biggest reasons I will fall in book love with a particular story hinges on me being able to connect with something or someone within it. Otherwise, it's pretty much a no go.

What about you?

Chitchat at the Library

Hello, my lovelies! Here I am at the library, attempting to get some writing accomplished. But there's also people watching and mind wandering to do as well. Because does that happen to anyone else? You go to a library or coffee shop or wherever to write. You go by yourself specifically to write! Only your mind wanders and the writing? Well....your blank computer screen sort of stares at you in condemnation at all that you're not doing. Yet it takes far too long for you to notice because your mind has wandered so many other places, rather than what you're supposed to be focused on. Which is whatever your goal was to write today. No? That never happens to you? Ah, well. Must just be me then.

Anyhoo! It's been ages since I've done a random post and I thought today it might be worth a try. My mind has been wandering a great deal recently. Full of all these thoughts and uncertainties and ponderings. And also Thailand. Because I'm trying a Thing.

Yes, that's right. I'm trying a Thing and I'm not sure how far I'll get with it or if I'll stay committed to it. But I want to! What's that? You'd like to know what the Thing is? Probably not, actually, but you know I'm gonna share it anyway, right? :)

So yeah. A friend and I were chatting a few weeks ago. She messaged me right in the middle of this excellent story I was reading (it's okay. She's the dearest friend, so I was willing to pause my reading to respond.) and our subsequent convo inspired me to challenge myself with a new project. A writing project! That's right! I feel like I'm definitely still in transition from my eight months overseas and some days it's harder to work through the confusing emotions and mess of my thoughts. So what I decided to try is to write about my time over there. Only I'm writing it more like a story and in third person. With an omniscient narrator. Of sorts. Something like that. Not really sure what I'd actually call it? I don't know all my proper technical writing terms. However! I do know it's been fun to write so far. I haven't gotten very far, I admit. Only a couple chapters, which equates to about three to four days worth of activity. And it's not really great writing. But it's so much fun! I thought I might share it somewhere besides just on my computer, but I've gotta get a lot more written and a lot more brave before I do that.

Well! We shall see what I do with it, if I even complete it all. I mean, eight months is a long time to write about, you know... :) I'm hoping writing like that will help me process through all the stuff I'm working through during transition. So yeah....

Where else has my mind been wandering? It is now officially August and I have been home from Thailand for a little over three months! How crazy is that?! Before I left a year ago, I remember thinking that four, potentially eight months (I wasn't sure how long I'd officially be there...), was quite a long time to be living overseas, especially for someone who'd never been out of the country before. (When I decide to do a thing, I go big, I guess? *shrugs*) And now here I am with the full eight months totally gone to the past and even another three down the road yet. That's just craziness to my mind, folks. It is.

Anyway. I have these thoughts and ideas and all this uncertainty about what to actually put into action and what is actually feasible to put into action. And how to get up the gumption to put things into action at all! Yes. I'm weird. And in a weird place right now. But that's okay! I'll figure it out....eventually. (I hope.)

So that's me. Thanks for listening.

What's new with you?

Old & Familiar Friends...

Hello, my lovelies!

I bet you never expected an actual written post that wasn't a book review, right? I have a been a long time gone, my friends, and while I wish this sort of thing could happen a little more often, alas... Infrequent posting is simply a product of my current life! In fact, since I've been so infrequent, I'm rather doubtful whether anyone is still hanging on around here...?? In case anyone is, here's a refresher course into my brain! (I know you've missed my rambling and nonsensical posts, right? ........right?)

Anyhoo! First up, I must needs point you to this article that I stumbled on last week. It's what caused my heart to begin pumping furiously with the need to write a response! So here I am. Responding.

If you haven't clicked over and read the article, please do so now. Don't worry. I'll wait.

On the Experience of Entering a Bookstore in Your Forties 

(vs. Your Twenties)

Now then. Welcome back.

I think what first struck me was the fact that the title of the article totally references something that resonated with me. I am not 40 yet (still a few years left in my 30s, thank you very much!), but as I thought about it, I realized that my time in bookstores as an upper 30-ish woman is certainly different than how I entered them in my 20s. Ah ha! The writer of the article is already on to something!

But seriously. It's true. A couple of quotes struck me particularly and I wanted to expound a little bit more on my thoughts:

Now when I wander the aisles, it’s not just some future self I imagine but a past one. There aren’t just books to read but books I’ve already read. Lives I’ve lived.

So true! At this stage of my life, it's not just me looking for new-to-me stories (although that certainly still plays a part!), but it's much more than that. There is truly an immense comfort upon entering said bookstore and spying old friend after old friend on those shelves. This hit home particularly for me as I am currently living overseas (for just a few months). I had a week during the middle of December where my time was free for whatever I wanted. So I rented a motorbike and headed off to find bookshops!

Let me state right up front that that was so much fun.

It wasn't only that after four months of a crazy busy schedule and not nearly as much time for reading on my kindle as I wished that I was desperate to just be inside a bookstore...

It wasn't just the fact that I wanted to see what a bookstore looked and felt like where I couldn't read any of the books within, not even the titles...

It wasn't simply so I could snap a few photos and post them on my instagram...

It was all of those things and more. But what I discovered? Is that after so many months of being surrounded with busyness and traveling here and there. After stuffing my brain full of knowledge and more knowledge. After studying until my eyeballs felt a bit crazed and dry. The most comforting thing, the happiest moment for me that week, was the simple joy of seeing shelf after shelf of English-language stories. Stories that I recognized. That I knew inside and out. I found a couple Jane Austen's, a couple Tolkien's, and the sheer pleasure in perusing the shelves, taking as long as I desired, and simply basking in the happy of the familiar.

So that quote up there? I get it. Bookstores are so much more to me now than they used to be. It's the memories that those stories bring to mind! I remember the first time I read a certain book and the feelings it invoked. Even if I've reread the book a million times since, when I newly find it on a bookshelf in a bookstore or library, I am not taken back to the last time I read it usually, but instead to my first read through. And you know those feelings, right? That first time you read a new favorite story and the chapters keep building, your heart beats faster, and you devour each paragraph with hungry eyes and heart until you read the final bits where you close it with a happy sigh. And immediately want to flip to the beginning and start all over again!

You know that feeling, don't you? *nods* I knew you did. It's one of the best feelings in the world.

Well.

That feeling is the one that returns (in a subdued manner, of course, nothing can repeat that first read through feeling of joy!) when I spy a certain book named My Hands Came Away Red on some shelf somewhere. It returns anytime I see Jane Austen on a spine. It can even return when someone asks me about reading and I'm given the sweet, sweet opportunity of ranting about books for a while! Verbally. While a real live human being looks me in the eyes and listens. (Yes. This is a very rare occurrence in my real life. Humph.)

They’re not merely items on a shelf but points on a map, convergences I can trace to former versions of myself.

YES.

They truly are. And what I know now? Is that when every other bit of life has taken a huge leap into the wild unknown, bookshops/bookstores/books, familiar books, compelling and inspiring books, favorites and old friends....they are so much a part of my heart. They spin me away from the crazy of life when all else is whooshing out of control and allow me to just breathe for a moment. They refresh my soul and give me a reason to find a quiet corner. They teach me, all over again, that leaps of faith are worth taking, that brave is possible, that adventures are waiting for those willing to go, and that life has some precious memories that should never be forgotten.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Would you?

My Thoughts on Shakespeare's "Hamlet"

Isn't that an awesome setup?!

{Beware. I have FEELINGS about our lovely playwright...}

So over the weekend, I had the privilege of watching Shakespeare's Hamlet onstage at the American Shakespeare Center's Blackfriars Playhouse. And I have to admit that I was uncertain about it beforehand. As you may or may not know, my dear friend, Hamlette, LOVES this play (as if her name doesn't give that away, right? ;) and so, due to her enthusiasm and the fact that I'd be watching it with her, I decided to give it a go. Just to say I'd seen it once, but mainly to spend more time with her! (I totally admit that latter reason was the biggest one of all.) When someone is really passionate about something, it makes me happy to listen to them expound on why they love it so, even if I don't happen to feel the same way. Such was the way Hamlette feels about Hamlet, and also why I agreed to watch it with her. :)

But y'all!

Oh, wow. To say that I was blown away by the acting? Especially the guy who played Hamlet himself, Josh Innerst? Just WOW.

Okay, so I feel I should preface all of this to explain my relationship with Shakespeare thus far in my life. I've never been a huge fan of his, to say the least. I knew he was considered a "classic writer" or whatever term fits. But there's loads of classics out there that I've no interest in reading! So that meant nothing. In high school, we had to read Romeo & Juliet, and can I just be honest with you? (All R&J lovers out there, please don't hate me) Romeo and his Juliet have got to be the stupidest teenagers I've ever read about. I enjoy love stories, okay? Anyone who reads this blog with any regularity is totally going to know that by now. But R&J? Is SO not a love story in my book. It's depressing and horrible and they make really stupid, life-ending decisions all because they were supposedly "in love". That is not love, guys. Nope. (Sorry! But my dislike of R&J is serious.)

So! As you can guess, my first introduction to our main man, Shakespeare, was a total bust! I hated Romeo & Juliet and, thus, was very uninterested in reading anything else of his. Especially when my English teacher droned on and on about how all of his characters' choices had meaning, the only "meaning" I ever got out of those characters was how depressing they seemed!

{By the by, I'm not saying I was right in feeling this way about his plays, I'm just saying that was my impression at the time...}

But! Somewhere along the way, I found out that he'd written a non-depressing play. What is this craziness?! The idea that he'd written a comedy intrigued me (especially when I figured out there was a bit of romance in it.....what can I say? I'm a hopeless fool for romance in a story.) and so when I had the chance to read Much Ado About Nothing, I took it and fell in love. I will admit that I didn't truly fall in love with it until I saw Kenneth Branagh's version onscreen.

{Sidenote, it was mentioned sometime on Saturday that Shakespeare seems to translate better once you see the character onstage or onscreen versus just reading the lines of the play. I completely agree with this!! I understand so much more of the motives of the characters based on their facial expressions and body language! Plus the humorous lines just come through SO much more clearly and hilariously. I laughed at many moments during Hamlet that I'm not certain I would have by just reading the line itself.}

Maybe I should do a post about the versions of
Much Ado I've enjoyed so far? Hmmmm....

Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson became my Benedick and Beatrice. Their banter was perfect, their chemistry was glorious, and I simply loved every minute of the story. (I know, this post is supposed to be about Hamlet, not Much Ado About Nothing! I'm getting there, promise. Hang with me here just a bit longer!)

Thus, I decided that this guy, Shakespeare, maybe wasn't worth writing off completely just yet. But I still was awfully hesitant about his really popular tragedies. I'm a happily-ever-after girl, okay?! I like my endings to at least have hope! No depressing endings for me, thank you!

So when I asked Hamlette, before we watched the play, to tell me what it is that she loves about this story so much, I was really hoping she'd help me to understand it better. I was planning to spend at least two hours with this, I wanted hope that I wouldn't be miserable that entire time! I am happy to say she did her job. :) I sat down with, maybe not an expectation to love it, but anticipation of a storyline I could understand and sympathize with. And oh, I got that. Boy, did I ever get that! :)

First of all, I was happy to have read a little about the play before watching, so I went into it knowing at least the basics of what was supposed to happen. (Shakespeare's lines, people! You have to admit that he can be a bit hard to understand when you've got an actor/actress spitting out these complicated lines lickity-split.) The best thing though? I laughed so, so many times! I was not prepared for that. I absolutely fell in love with how Shakespeare wrote in all these little moments of sarcasm! Especially during really emotional scenes. Hamlet would be all intense and focused and then suddenly throw out this ridiculous line that would catch me by surprise! It was hilarious and perfect and I think probably my favorite thing about the play. :)

image via

Then there was the acting. I already mentioned the guy who played Hamlet. He was AMAZING, y'all. Seriously! He'd go from being all agonizing turmoil, to throwing out this sarcastic little thought, then right back into the intensity, all while never losing his momentum or energy! By the end of the play, I could see the sweat dripping down his face and could totally understand why. Because whoa! The character of Hamlet seriously requires a ton of energy! He might not be in every single scene, but his presence was felt at all times, even when offstage. He definitely had the pressure of carrying most of the heavy weight of this story and man did he ever come through. I was very impressed with his acting. And all the other actors and actresses did a wonderful job as well!

Can I just mention the play itself now though? {Beware spoilers!} Because there was one thing I was stumped on. Having read a bit about the play beforehand, I was wondering what I'd think regarding Hamlet and his "madness". Whatever website I found last week (can't remember now) mentioned about how there are differing opinions on whether Hamlet was putting on a show of being mad or if he truly did become a bit crazy. And I still don't know what I think about that! (So if you know the story, please feel free to enlighten me. I would enjoy some clarification on this.) I began the first half thinking that he was totally putting on a show, but there were moments that I began to feel uncertain. Also, considering that Ophelia then becomes mad near the end, and I do think hers was very real, then that raises the possibility that Shakespeare could have meant that Hamlet did the same. His madness was just much more slighter and he had his revenge to keep him grounded, perhaps. I don't know! All I am certain of is that there are moments when Hamlet is clearly putting on a facade. Yet was he the entire time? I think it was during the scene when he sees his father's ghost up in the ceiling/sky (whichever it was) when he's with his mother that I felt a slight doubt as to him "acting" that bit. But maybe that's just the interpretation of the director of this particular version? Maybe it's purposely vague? I don't know! What do you think?

I do want to mention how fun it was to hear several lines that I recognized but had never actually heard in their context. Like, "To be or not to be, that is the question." And "Alas, poor Yorick...", as well as "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." Also, "Brevity is the soul of wit." and "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark." Those are the only ones I can remember off the top of my head currently. I've heard or seen those lines quoted lots of times, but I never really understood them. Naturally! Because you need to hear them in context to understand! And I do. Kinda sorta anyway. :)

(Speaking of quotes, I have to mention that I had the privilege of sitting beside Hamlette and watching as she quoted the lines right alongside the actors. Very impressive! :)

Whew! Okay, I think I'd better stop here. Anyone still with me? I hope I haven't driven you all away! But to simplify, in case anyone skips all those paragraphs just to get to this one, it was an excellently done production! I really enjoyed watching it, and it wasn't depressing. I appreciated that there was a slight hopefulness at the end. Very glad I had the chance to watch it! Not so sure I'm going to run out and immediately watch every onscreen version now, but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. Yay!

A few things I'm "weirdly passionate" about...

Hello, my lovelies! Look, I'm back again! Isn't that fabulous? I knew you'd think so. ;)

Anyhoo! I haven't been blogging much recently, as all of the maybe five whole people who probably still read my blog know all too well (thank you for sticking with me, for the record! I'm so grateful I still have at least a couple regular readers). Still, all evidence may seem against this, but I haven't given up on blogging! Nope. Hence, I stumbled over this post from a new-to-me blog from last week and it made me think. Laura read this quote that she loved and it struck a note with me as well...

"We should all find something to be weirdly passionate about." 

~ Emma Mills

Laura wrote a great post on why we shouldn't give up on the things that we're weirdly passionate about which others may never understand. (Seriously. Go read her post, it made me smile. :)

Enthusiasm is a good thing! Whatever it is we're passionate about, it doesn't matter if others understand it or not. Which reminded me of a conversation I had this past weekend with friends of mine. Somehow my enthusiasm for books and reading came up (I definitely didn't bring it up myself! So not my fault.) and I had the delightful opportunity to gush over my fun experience with the INSPYs. (Mainly because that's been my focus when it comes to reading for the past few weeks and when I was asked what I'd been reading currently, well...)

It was lovely to have the chance to show a bit of my enthusiasm and, while those listening didn't share the same feelings as I, they seemed to enjoy the fact that I was happy. That doesn't always happen, so yay! :)

So! I thought I'd share two things that I am, without a doubt, "weirdly passionate" about:

1. books (obviously) - This passion of mine is one of the biggest reasons I began to read blogs and was brave enough to start my own. I've said before that I've loved reading since before I can even remember. Probably since I was old enough to learn to read! :)

2. korean dramas (I love seeing Suey's enthusiasm for these and her courage inspires me) - I was a silent watcher of these for several years before I was brave enough to even mention it to a single person. And even then, I was a bit embarrassed to admit it. I don't know that I can even explain to someone what it is about them that I love so much. All I can tell you is I stumbled across one on youtube one day a few years ago and decided I must needs find more! And the rest, as they say, is history. I will say that when I've had a few reading slumps in recent past, or been sick and unable to concentrate on reading, kdramas have kept me happily distracted. Crazy, yes! But crazy awesome, if I do say so for myself. :D

What are you weirdly passionate about?

It just all depends on the reader...

We readers are a unique bunch and we all have books we love and books we don't. And sometimes those "books we don't" happen to be ones that everyone (and I do mean just about everyone out there who's read it) loved. The first time or two this happened, I remember feeling slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with me that I didn't love it? Everyone else did and especially some favorite bloggers whose recommendations are usually spot on? But see, I was totally wrong. It is perfectly normal not to like what everyone else does! Especially when it comes to books. Thank goodness.

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green was my first time experiencing this. I even went out and bought a hardback copy because I just assumed I would love it! It had all the things that normally worked for me. The romance sounded cute and the issues that the teen protagonists were going through were heartfelt and appealed to me.

But....

I didn't like it. At all. Wait, wait! Before you throw things at me, let me just state that there were some nice moments, it's not a terrible book. I just.....didn't like it.

And because of that experience, I am now really leery about any overly hyped book or series. If everyone loves it, then I'm a lot more likely to approach with lots of caution. I might actually end up loving it too! Take The Lunar Chronicles series by Marissa Meyer, for example. I was a bit leery of Cinder when it first came out. Everyone raved and I wasn't so sure. But I ended up trying it from the library and then I had to go purchase my own copy because everyone was right! (And that whole series is epic and awesome and amazing and yeah. So I totally bought into all the hype for those. ;)

So what I'm saying is, hype isn't always what it's cracked up to be. And sometimes it is. It just all depends on the reader. It also means that there are books out there for everyone. I love this book, but you don't, yet you love this book and I don't. And yet again, we both love this other book!

At the end of the day? There's no right or wrong, it's just books. And if we all love books, then we all win anyway, right? :)

Bookish {and Not So Bookish} Thoughts

Bookish and Not-So-Bookish Thoughts is a weekly blogging event hosted by Bookishly Boisterous. It allows book bloggers (and non-book bloggers) to write about pretty much anything, bookish or otherwise (i.e. share exciting plans for the weekend, rants on things they’ve encountered during the week, etc.). Thanks to Birdie from Lady of the Manor and Lianne from Eclectic Tales for bringing it to my attention! :)

1. Why yes, I am still here! Thanks to the holidays, plus some winter weather, I haven't had the time nor felt much like doing any blogging here in January. But I'm back now! And hoping this enthusiasm continues. :) I hope your New Year has brought lots of happy!

2. I have been in a miserable reading slump since the beginning of December. And I hated it!! There is not much that's worse for a reader than failing to find any books that made me want to actually read them. I started I don't know how many books in the last several weeks and lost enthusiasm for them all! *heaves a big sigh* SO frustrating. Especially during the weekend we had frigid temps and loads of snow that refused to leave on account of those frigid temps. I am SO READY FOR SPRING, y'all. I'm one of those non-fans of winter anyway and knowing I still have three whole months to go yet just....*frowny face* Enough whining though! On to happy things now. I read my first book of the year the other day! And am currently in the middle of two more. Take that, reading slump! :D

3. The first book I read this year was The Girl Who Heard Demons by Janette Rallison. It sounds crazy, but it's actually a really great story! Plus it's Janette Rallison. I love her books! Always the right amount of cute and fluff with just enough serious drama to keep it from being overly sweet. Currently reading The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans. I started it in the bookstore while waiting to meet up with a friend and couldn't put it back on the shelf when it came time to leave. So home with me it went! Also in the middle of Romancing Mister Bridgerton by Julia Quinn. I love the banter between the main couple!

4. Y'all are now nauseatingly aware that I'm part of the INSPYs, but I just wanted to highlight author Becky Wade's post about these awards. If you're curious how they came to be, the awesome Rel answers a few questions! (Also, I might get a slight mention. Maybe. ;)

5. While I may not have gotten much reading done over our snowy weekend, I did get one of my bookshelves sorted. Turns out I have no fewer than 100 books to get rid of! Whoa. Maybe being in a reading slump made it easier for me to say "Nope, not keeping that one, or that one, or this one..."? Now I have to pack them all up so I can load them in my car to donate. Sounds nice to use my muscles for hefting books instead of heavy shovelfuls of snow!

6. I just read Ruth's review of Passenger by Alexandra Bracken and she's convinced me I must read this one soon. Have any of you read it?

7. I watched Star Wars: The Force Awakens on Christmas day with my nephew. I know, I know! I'm only like a year behind everybody else. But I liked it! I confess to only having watched A New Hope prior (I want to watch the others, I just haven't yet) I've read enough about TFA and the Star Wars universe though, so I wasn't lost regarding what was going on. The story kept playing in my head for several days after. It was especially bittersweet after I heard about Carrie Fisher's death. And now I really want to watch the other movies!

8. I keep seeing lists of books people have to read, or books that well-known critics/readers say everyone needs to read or somesuch. Every single time I see one of these types of lists I think, "But what if I disagree?" Because as I've learned (even just today- I loved that story, but Birdie did not), reading is very subjective. The books I fall in love with may turn out to be vastly different than the books you fall in love with! Every reader knows this by now, I think. I guess it's just the titles of those lists that bug me. Because I love lists! I do. But me saying that these certain ten books are ones that you are guaranteed to love is very misleading, because you may not love them. You may hate them actually! And that's perfectly okay. Maybe what I want is just for people to stop titling these lists as guaranteed winners. I know, I'm ranting over something silly. I just needed to get it off my chest. Rant over. Promise. ;)

Happy Monday, my lovelies! I hope your week is delightful.

New Year, New Hope

When you start to feel

like things should have

been better this year,

remember the mountains and valleys

that got you here.

They are not accidents

and those moments weren't in vain.

You are not the same

you have grown and you are growing

you are breathing, you are living.

You are wrapped in

endless

boundless

grace.

And things will get better.

There is more to you than yesterday.

~ Morgan Harper Nichols

Fiction Affects Us...

"So I picked up a book, a book I had already read and loved, and moved out of my own world of numb pain and into the world of the book. I do not think that this was escape or evasion. The heroine of the book had her own problems with loneliness and anxiety and death. Sharing these, being totally in this different world for an hour or so, helped me understand my own feelings. " ~ Madeleine L'Engle

I've wondered a few times in the last few years about whether I was just attempting escape from reality when I'd pick up a book during a hard circumstance. Someone told me it wasn't a bad thing, but I think I was afraid to believe them. Because I feared that it was a form of denial, a way for me to refuse to deal with the hard.

But then I stumbled across this small paragraph above and it made me think. Perhaps she's right? I mean, think about it. What happens when I pick up a book with characters who I love and connect with? I relate to them, and when that happens, then doesn't it make sense that I'd relate to whatever problem they're having and how they're responding to it? Right? It does! And the more I ponder this, the more I'm convinced that it's a really good thing, maybe even a needful thing.

Because when we're looking at a real life friend, we are a somewhat neutral judge (only not really). Still, we tend to judge them in a situation, rightly or wrongly. On the outside looking in to someone's life, it's easy to ascribe motives and feelings to them. It's a little more difficult for us to see that we may be judging wrong, and still more difficult to see the same thing we judged in them in ourselves.

But when we open a book, we get sucked into the story in our minds, so right from the start we're no longer operating from the outside looking in, we're already in! Yet as the omniscient reader (which we are because we're able to see the full picture that the writer is sharing), we start taking a look around this character's mind and begin making judgment calls. "This character responded this way, but should have responded this way." But when you add in the fact that this certain trait of the character is one we relate to (because we're the same, or similar at least), as we make judgments we can also start to see how/why we're doing the same thing in our own life. And realize we need to change! Maybe even as we see the character change, so do we.

Which brings me to the idea that books, especially fictional stories, can actually affect the way we are and the way we live. So reading a fiction novel during a hard moment doesn't have to be an escape (although it can be), it can be a way for us to truly begin to see ourselves.

Fascinating stuff, really. *ponders some more* What do you think?

My Reading Time is Weirdly Affected...

A dear friend gave this to me and I loved it!
It has a place of honor on my bookshelf. :)

Actually what this post is about is the fact that I can get so much reading done when I'm not feeling well! Go figure. Now granted, y'all know I love to read. That's a given seeing as how I have an entire blog dedicated to the subject. But what I've noticed this fall and early winter is how much reading I do when I'm sick. As I've been sick several times recently (three colds and one flu, anyone? Blech! And all since August. Double blech!) I've had lots of research time. Unfortunately.

So! As I spent the past week fighting my most recent bout with a cold, I (obviously) didn't feel up to doing much. I did go to work, but evenings are when I felt the worst, so I'd go home and, you guessed it!, spend the evening reading. Six books in three days! Yes, a few of them were novellas, but still. That's a lot of reading! Not that I'm wishing I were sick more often. Definitely NOT. But I do find it fascinating that that seems to be what it takes to get me to read more. Well. That and the weather.

Yes, the weather. Last winter, when we got a boatload and a half of snow (way too much in my humble opinion!), I read seven or eight books in one week. Now that may not be very many to those readers who read hundreds of books a year. But of my measly 77 books I read last year (still so weird to use that term for 2015), to say that almost 15-20 of them were read when A) it was snowing or B) I was sick is kind of noticeable. At least to me.

(It also means that I have loads of reviews I need to catch up on again. *sigh* Hopefully coming soon!)

All of that highly scientific data begs the question: Have you ever noticed that you read more when you're sick or when there's bad weather and you can't get out? Or am I the only odd one? (It's okay if I am. I'm actually quite used to that. :) Let me know!

Thoughts For the Moment

Here am I, sitting and typing. Hoping for this tiny bit of moment in time I can cobble together a post so my readers will know that I'm not forgetting them. Hoping for a few seconds to click over to a friend's blog and catch up on her posts. Alas, here am I, scrambling to find words after realizing the post I had planned is much wordier than I thought. (I know. All my posts tend to be that way, don't they? What can I say? I like words. I use them a lot. Therefore, you get a lot to read. Yay?) Instead of feeling accomplished with all I got done this day, here I sit in my favorite chair at the library (am I the only one who has one of those?), wondering when I'm finally going to be able to do everything in the allotted amount of time I get for blogging each week (which is never enough, let me tell you. *sigh*).

So! With Jane Austen in my head, books all around me, real life friends with struggles that hurt me too, questions unanswerable (at least for the moment), words anxious to be written, blogs not visited (I have dreams of clicking over to your posts, friends! Some day. I shall conquer this!), comments not left, pictures not taken....yes. In all the mess, here I sit. Is it just me, or do some days, some weeks or months, feel like the words and the time and ability to get it all done is just impossible?

The words are too much, I can't get them all down, so I pause, click 'save post', and write this instead.

Words are crazy things, people. Sometimes they flow, sometimes they don't. Sometimes you get lots of posts from me (which is rare, I know), sometimes I go weeks without posting. There really is no happy medium with me, is there? But lucky for me, you're still here! I'm grateful. Truly.

And now with 15 minutes left before I have to leave, I'll end with this. An actual post should hopefully be forthcoming next week. I have plans, my lovelies! I promise. My next allotted time should only be a couple days away. Thus, until that moment, hang in there with me? And while you live your lives and I live mine, busy as they always are, we'll take a moment right this very second and breathe together. Okay?

Inhale...

Exhale...

And there you go.

Thanks.

When I Really Like a Story...

So I recently discovered this series that a fellow blogger has created. Heidi asks other readers what three things make a good story. It got me to imagining how I would answer such a question. As my mind wandered hither and yon, I decided my own blog post was a must and here we are! :)

The more I thought about it however, I decided I needed to clarify something before sharing my list. Namely, there is a significant difference between a "good" story and one that I will read over and over and fall in love with every single reread. For example, I can acknowledge that Dune by Frank Herbert is a good story. It's well-plotted with amazing world-building and certainly beloved by many! But it's not one I ever imagine rereading. So it's a good story, just not a great one in my opinion. Yet I know there are those readers that absolutely LOVE that book. See what I mean? Thus, when trying to create this list of things that make a good story, I decided that it's much more true to say these are the things that make a story one that I will pick up again and again.

Now then. Let's get to it, shall we? (I should note that Heidi only asks for three, but I couldn't limit myself thus.) (Which is no surprise, right? I do love to analyze! :)

Characters I Can Connect With and Root For

This is probably the biggest make or break aspect of a book for me. As I noted in my review of Dune, I couldn't connect with any of the characters, which truly disappointed me. And made me realize how important characters are to the story. I mean, yes. We all know characters are important! (I'm so great at stating the obvious, aren't I? :) But reading that book really opened my eyes to how HUGE this is for me. If I can't connect with at least one character (and preferably a main one), if I can't root for the hero or heroine in some way, if I can't feel their emotions, it almost ruins the story for me. Not completely! But almost. I need to understand the character at least a little bit in order for me to want to know them better.

Great Relationships and Chemistry Between Characters

This one kind of goes along with the first one, but I thought it was worth its own description. Relationships, whether they are friendly or romantic, will keep me riveted. Especially if it's a relationship that starts out a bit antagonistically and then grows into a mutual friendship. Watching two characters learn to respect and love each other can be such a delight! One such example is John Thornton and Nicholas Higgins from North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. Of course, my opinion of these two is hugely impacted by my love of the adaptation and Richard and Brendan's portrayals! ;) Watching their respect and understanding of one another grow agonizingly slow makes the resulting friendship worth every single frustrated moment I had. I was rooting for both characters individually from the very beginning, but when they grudgingly began to note the goodness in the other, well....that just made me love them more! And the chemistry comes in when I can feel the friendship/relationship growing right along with the characters themselves. I suppose it's that I love to be swept away into the characters and their story, so I want to feel their emotions.

Good Writing

I know, this should be an obvious one that doesn't need stating. But I'm going to state it anyway! Because while I know that what constitutes good writing to me may be vastly different to you, the writing style of an author makes a big difference on whether I'll decide to read the book or not. I am so grateful that you can sample ebooks for this very reason! (Even if I do wish some of the samples were just a few pages longer. Especially if half the sample is made up of the title page and chapter index! *frustrated sigh*) Some writing just flows so naturally, while others do not. And I can typically figure out whether I'll be able to stomach an entire story by how the first chapter reads. Sometimes I'm wrong! A few books can start rather slow and off-putting, but then gather speed and sweep me away by the middle. And sometimes the beginning is awesome, while the middle and ending are horrible. Yes, it is completely subjective, but still an important aspect of a book for me.

Happy (Hopeful) Endings

Reading is a bit of an escape for me, so I require happy endings for the stories I love! Reality is hard, people. It can be rough and miserable, we all know that. (Of course, it can be happy too! But that's not my point here. :) As such, why would I want to read about the same miseries and impossibilities in my books? If you like to do so that's great for you, have at it. But I much prefer to read a story that reminds me of the happy moments in life. That after all the hard and yuck the characters have dealt with, happy still wins in the end. I should note that my definition of a happy ending doesn't mean that no one is sad. (*Spoiler alert*) In Nicholas Sparks' A Walk to Remember a main character dies, but I still consider that one having a happy ending. Because the other character grows and learns and becomes who he was meant to be because of knowing her. I just don't like the endings where everyone is dead and/or miserable. An ending with no hope. I like hopeful endings!

Romantic Storylines

Yes! I admit it! It's shallow, but I admit it. I like romance in my stories. It doesn't have to be the main focus, I'm totally okay with the romance being a secondary plot, but I do love it when there's a bit somewhere in the story. I can (and do!) have some favorite books that have hardly any romance anywhere in them. For instance, The Queen's Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner has very little. In fact, the first book has zero and the second barely mentions it. They are not what I would term romantic stories at all. (It's really more alluded to by what isn't said, than what is. Brilliantly written, in my opinion! :) Alas, what can I say? Give me a swoony hero and I'm a happy reader! So there.

What do you look for in stories you love?

 

Are You a Book Person?

I....am a book person.

(This will surprise no one.)

Contrary to what many probably think, however, that does not mean I am reading every single second that I can every single day. Some book people do! And that's awesome. I, on the other hand, do not.

What I do? Is love books. They make me happy! Just to see them, be around them, smell them, and yes, read them. I do actually read them. But my point is, I don't have to read them to be happy. They just simply need to be. To exist. And I'm good. I'm great! Oh, I wish I read more than I do. But I have accepted the fact that I will probably never read two or three hundred books in a year's time. I will be doing amazing if I even read a hundred in one year's time! (There's just so many other things to do! Real life happens. Friends, work, sleep, you get the picture.)

(And movies. Period dramas! Those can be a bit distracting as well. I admit it. ;)

The thing is? That's ok.

Did you get that? It is OK. There are no hard and fast rules to being a book person. There are no prerequisites I have to meet. There are no hoops I have to jump through. I just simply have to love books. That's it! (What an amazing concept, yes? :)

And I do! Oh how I do. My house is covered with them. (Just ask my family.) I talk about them a lot. (Just ask my friends.) Everything seems to remind me of them. My real life friends know without question that if we're out shopping together, I can always be found in the book section. And if we're in a bookstore? It'll take a huge amount of cajoling to get me to leave. (Actually not true. I've simply learned not to go to bookstores with my non-book-loving friends! I'll only annoy them. In a nice way. :)

The cool thing about being a book person is all the fellow book people you get to meet. Because book people are awesome. No other way to say it. Book people are awesome! Regardless if we read the same genres or no, regardless if we read lots or a little, no matter the differences, book people just get each other. It's true! There is absolutely nothing like talking with someone else who's passionate about stories. Who, when asked to name their favorite authors, whips out a giant list. Who grins secretly at me when I notice we're both standing in line at the library with our arms full. Who sees the book I'm holding and instantly says "Ooo, that's a good one! Have you read....?". Book people are awesome.

So what about you?

Yeah, you.

The person reading this post. Are you a book person too? (I'm assuming yes, since you've clearly read down this far and I'm pretty positive only book people will be willing to do that.) Are you passionate about stories? Does being near a shelf of books just make you grin?

Then you're my people.

Welcome.

A Bookish Question For You...



via

As I was reading the other day, I got to thinking about writers and their descriptions of characters. Some authors describe in great detail about what their characters look like, while others give the barest description they can get away with. Either way is fine by me, except that I will say that too much description can take the focus away from the story. Isn't there a writerly saying about "show, don't tell"....??

Anyway! My point is, as I was reading I realized that I was picturing the scenes in my mind. But I wasn't actually putting faces on the people I was reading about. It was more that I had a general picture of the hair color and body size and height and all that, but nothing in great detail. Kind of like I had the outline of the scene rather than all the colors and wrinkles and every single facial expression. In fact, I've noticed that I tend to make myself the main girl character when I'm imagining a scene. (Is that strange? Or do other people do that too?) Which led me to wondering what other readers' imaginations create.

I realize that it helps a lot if there's a cover model that fits the description well or if there's been a movie and I picture the actor or actress while reading. But that doesn't always guarantee that I will picture the cover model or actor while reading! Our imaginations are so very personal (obviously) and interesting. And I bet we all do differently. Or maybe not. But I'd sure like to find out!

So! What about you? When you're reading a story, do you instantly have a picture of the characters in your mind? If so, to what degree of detail do you imagine?

And please, won't you comment and answer? I'm so curious! (Pretty please? With sugar on top? :)