So Yahoo is working again, but it really doesn't make a difference because no one e-mails me, so I freaked out for nothing. But I might actually use it one day! One day...
Yesterday I was rudely reminded that our public library is painfully limited and if you want anything specific you're flat out of luck. If they don't not have it, they probably have one freaking copy that you have to return as soon as someone else wants it, finished or not.
(Coughonwritingcough.)
I might as well just buy the god forsaken thing and keep it to thumb through as I please, but Mom is like 'No, that is bull crap' with... good reason... kind of because it wasn't that long and I normally go through books faster than thinking. Unfortunately the point of this was to absorb advice which is a bit harder than absorbing plot. Plus this thing. So I didn't exactly sit down and slog through in one big binge. And the lady, who was generally nice even though she had to tell me I couldn't keep it and that made me kind of irritated, said I could 'look to see if there's an another copy and check out that'.
Wouldn't that be redundant?
If there was a second copy, then it wouldn't be on hold now, would it? I checked. I was right.
But certainly if I was looking up something with the title 'Ten Reasons Why Jesus Loves You' or something like that, I would be up to my ears in content. That is just the kind of town we live in. So there's my rant about that. Goodbye,
T.Y.G.E.R.
Me and a friend of mine are collaborating on a story. I have never done this before... It's for a mystery story writing contest. It is much harder than I thought, reason one being someone has to die, whether because of her insistence or the simple fact that murder mysteries are the simpler mysteries to write. We disagree a lot. I can't hold interest in a particular storyline. I like the first idea that we decided wasn't really a mystery. Mysteries are amazing to read, surely. Writing them, much like anything, is completely different.
It's waxing mildly frustrating.
Now it's very late and I am tired.
Sorry for keeping this so late... like anyone cares.
As you can tell, we didn't make much progress.
My sister worried me today. Not the usual worries. A different kind of worry. A less funny sort of worry. A dreadfully common ailment for my generation and nearly all grownups of these times. It sort of snuck up on me.
It was a simple enough start. She intruded my room muttering 'Mangas... mangas...' and began scouring my bookshelf. I have all of three, all based of actual novels. All merely holdovers from when I was teaching myself the style. On more of a whim than anything, I handed her A Wrinkle in Time and told her to read that instead. After all, I had read it around her age and I had loved it.
The little socialite outright refused, laughing.
I begged, I coaxed, I gave a vain shot at reverse psychology. This escalates into a scuffle. An actual scuffle between my strong, stubborn insisting she read the book or sit down and let me read to her and her 'I don't like reading, I won't!' attitude. For a considerable longer time than I would normally put toward any physical effort I was making a fool of my scrawny self trying to drag her away from the door. I kid you not. Finally I pulled the wimpy, effortless maneuver called 'Tell Parents to Force Her.' It is a empty win, sometimes hard to correctly enforce, but in the end I was reading it to her and she was listening and for a while I felt I had accomplished something. I didn't quite get the message across... according to her summary she was absorbing about as much as an infant could absorb the entire history of World War Two. After I let my disapproval be known she said many similar things that were denied to Mom two seconds later. "I don't have an imagination." "I have an imagination, but don't use it." and finally "I have an imagination, but don't want to use it now..." It's always an unsettlingly funny thing to watch Rose edit herself as she speaks, pretending the world has a backspace button and we all don't realize what a scarily bone-headed thing she just said.
I am a reader, and by whatever god there is, my sister will be too. Comics and anime is tolerable enough. Fine in moderation. But they cannot, will not, if I have anything to say, be the contents of her entire literary background, with few exceptions. Sorry, enough ranting, it's nearly midnight.
T.Y.G.E.R.
Let me start by saying there is definitely something nice about reading next to a good storm or rain. Finally started that book I need to read for school. Haven't gotten far, but I kinda like it. I also started reading A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I think it's absolutely brilliant. Surprisingly, started thinking that after reading the first paragraph and kept thinking that right up to now. I'm at chapter five currently.
Drove a go-kart again. Had fun.
Went to the library. Forgot to check to see if I could access Yahoo.
So far things are good. There's one more thing I haven't told you about yet, but that will come to light tomorrow after things have been expanded on slightly. That's really all I have for today, goodbye.
T.Y.G.E.R.
Hello everyone! So today I rode in/drove a go-kart, terrified my sister, and got attacked by a number of stowaway spiders. It's a good thing I'm not especially arachnaphobic. Or afraid of fast things. Rose apparently is. Really should have seen that coming. Maybe it was just the fact that it was me in the driver's seat. I thought I was quite good. I definitely had fun.
God, I really shouldn't just leave in the middle of these things. It shouldn't take a span of hours to write a few paragraphs.
Dad said I could go to the library tomorrow. I haven't really been back there in a long time, mostly because it always seems to close so soon or not quite have what I want for reasons of pfft... who knows? And I can always just go to the BIG bookstore in Ashley Park and just read a bunch of books while there. If it wasn't about as organized or as constant as the YouTube web layout.
And honestly the 'teen' books that are oh-so-popular are really starting to bore me. Futuristic dystopia with a convoluted plot that will make you feel smart for reading, you'll stop understanding it after Chapter Five, but you'll feel clever for trying. Then Romances. Then the kinda generic cop-shows-in-literature form. Honestly, I like books to trick you into reading a genre that you thought you hated, like me with 13 Little Blue Envelopes. Not really fond of romances. Read this without realizing it was categorized as a romance. Loved it much. Saw the little sticker label the school librarians put on a few of the books, and was surprised. It didn't shove the whole 'love' thing down your throat and was geniuenly cute and odd. I liked it. I don't wan't to look at the description of a book and go 'I think I've read this somewhere before...' I want to go 'this looks fascinating, I'll take a look at it.' Books that don't seem to intend to be anything, like a science-fiction or a grownup thing or even occasionally a very light-hearted childish thing. Books that just seems to grow into a theme or an idea or a moral as you read it. Ones you don't start knowing just what to expect.
When I was a kid I decided to pick a book at random that had nothing but an old, faded black hardcover with it's title written in thin, worn gold script exactly twice. I chose that one because it looked mysterious, like it just might come to life. I read it and thought it was great. I have never read it or anything really similar since. God, I didn't even know who the author was. For me this was a time before books were written by people, they were just there and appeared as naturally as I guess... dandelions. Everywhere, always, and flowers even if most people didn't always think so. (This was also before Twilight etc. had come out, so I didn't even know you could have a book that the majority of the people I met strongly disliked.) Also like dandelions, I enjoyed them immensely. Seriously, who has not picked a bouquet of the things at least once in their childhood. Ah, nostalgia. I wasn't even aware that comparison would work out so well. Huh.
You'd think reading is something you just never lose, but it kinda is something you can... fall out of without realizing it. This, I have found, is incredibly dangerous. Especially if you want to write. One doesn't do well without the other. I kind of need to fall back into it. Scratch that, I really need to fall back into it. I want to. But your tastes change as you grow, and you get picky to the point where the school library, though it has plenty of dark almost-grownup things as well as cutesy romantic things and every. Teenage. Vampire novel. In existence. Finding something odd that balances humor with wit and something you don't really get from things like the Maze Runner Series which was a good start but just plain lost me after half of book two. I'm sure there's a way to be confusing and entertaining at the same time, but there comes a point when you want something explained. Even if it's not true, you can be surprised later.
Ha, I talk like I know what I'm on about (I probably don't.), and I could probably go on for a while. Bottom line is I want something odd, different, and a tiny bit funny, if it can. My favorite book since the third grade or so Last of the Really Great Wangdoodles has remained my favorite because it is so dang odd and pretty much unknown (but the author's not, it's the lady who played Mary Poppins, Julie Andrews.) And it's lovely and something just a little like Alice in Wonderland and A Wrinkle in Time.
Wow... it's really late. And I'm hungry. Goodnight, I guess. There's another rant for you.
T.Y.G.E.R.
This is my new story on Wattpad.
And the slight two-day funk I was in has passed. The issues that put me in it have not been completely resolved, but I'm not under a mopey woe-is-me raincloud anymore. Life is... positive meh. No longer dangerously negative meh, but not exciting enough for impressively positive meh. Impressively positive meh is like a three-day-weekend in school. An absolute positive is... it ranges from stuff like the trip to Little Five I wrote about a LOOOONG time ago to Myrtle Beach to the two second euphoria upon completing a bit of my stories. My default is positive meh to neutral meh. I'm a generally unemotional person about stuff like TV shows and stuff that I see tons of people (including my sister) get thrown into a tizzy over. It's actually kind of funny to watch. (Something about as life-threatening as sticking your arm in an alligator's mouth yet hilarious that I discovered is when you tease Rose about anime. Seriously, her reaction is so over the top it's insane. But I don't do it that often anymore, because I value my life. And it's just mean. But mostly because I don't like being pounced upon.)
On another subject, real life has been dull. God, where's an alien invasion when you need one? Let's bring the Doctor to America for a change! Sigh... why is all the cool stuff in Britain? Grumble, grumble... Now that I've started posting stuff everyday I am actually aware that time is, in fact, still passing. Still feels a little time-loop-y though. Days turn into weeks and all that. But I'm not living the same weekday over and over.
I still have to read On Writing by Stephen King. I've gotta remember that, because that's just the sort of thing I'll end up leaving until the last minute and then just disregard completely. And it's a book. I'm the type of person who just goes through the things like... an SUV with gas. I've pretty much read everything I really like in my small library to death. I have gone through Harry Potter at least one time to many in too soon a time span. I should go to the library in the near future. I haven't done that in ages.
So on that note, I post this, because it's almost six and that's kinda late for me. See ya tomorrow.
T.Y.G.E.R.
