midnightdiddle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
midnightdiddle) wrote2005-05-16 09:54 pm
midnightdiddle) wrote2005-05-16 09:54 pm
Entry tags:
The strongest phrase, a thought on books, and a drabble.
The strongest passage from any piece of literature I've ever read is a single sentence. It's in Catch-22, which, while not the classic people expect for a great passage, is still a classic, none the less. When I was reading it, I came across this phrase, and I nearly wept. And I don't cry in movies, or books, or anything, really, except life. But this time, my heart shattered into what felt to be a thousand pieces, and those pieces shattered, and so on. The phrase is, and I quote:
"And Snowden lay dying in back."
That's it, nothing more, nothing less. I read this over a year ago, and this phrase, this simple sentence of six words, has never left my head. It's always there, lurking in the back of my mind, and more than once I've found myself mumbling it to myself, over and over. It's beautiful and ugly and dark and so many things, which is amazing, for so few words. I think this phrase, this simple thing, is what changed me as a writer. I now write things sparsely, trying to echo the same feelings I had when I read that phrase. And but God, what a phrase it is.
And I've come to realize I have a problem. I have this obsession with books, and it's kinda bad. I buy books like other people buy clothes, or something else. In the past few years, I've spent over three thousand dollars on books. I go the store, I see a book I find interesting, and I have to have it. And I don't really have the money to do this, since I'm a student, but I still do. More than once, this last year, I went without food just so I could buy another book that I wanted. The worst thing is, I don't even read all of the books I buy. I start them, but then I buy another, and move onto that one, and I don't finish the first one. >< Bad, bad habit. Costly habit, too, since books are exactly cheap. But at least it's not something like drugs, right?
So today, I bought a book (The Idiot, Dostoevsky) and a 'Books to Check Out' journal, to keep track of what I need to read, and I told myself I wouldn't buy another book until I'd read some that I hadn't finished yet. Did that work? Nope, because less than five hours later I was paying a cashier for Wind in the Willows. But I needed that book, for my collection. And I have these lists, this lists of hundred of books, everywhere, tacked up on walls. Lists of 'Greatest American Novels,' 'Books that Shaped America,' 'Greatest British Novels,' 'Greatest Books of All Time,' ect. And they're seriously everywhere. So now I'm going to consolidate all of the lists into my new little journal book, and then I'm going to go through all of my books, and the books I haven't finished I'll put in a bookshelf, seperate from the others, and work through it. That's my plan. And heavens, but do I have books... Far too many, but I want more, need more. God, I sound like an addict...
And in more news, a thought upon my writing. I'm beginning to lose interest, or rather, I'm beginning to feel inadequate. It's the reviews again. People say they like Tryin', that they love it, and now I'm so worried about the next chapter not being up to their liking, and that freaks me out. Alas. And then I read things other people write, and I feel inadequate all over again. I am thinking about taking a hiatus from the fanfiction world altogether, so I can read through my books and stable myself out.
Finally, the moment I'm sure people were waiting for, the drabble.
When Kakashi messed up and people were dead, when the council screamed 'treason' and 'traitor,' and Tsunade couldn't save Kakashi's head, Iruka grabbed his hand and ran. They ran for weeks, Kakashi numbly following Iruka's footsteps, muttering Genma's name under his breath again and again.
"Come," Iruka would urge, and Kakashi would stumble forward, clumsy and unsure, and Iruka would hold his hand, lead him away to safety. It was inevitable, though, that they would be found, that the Hunters would catch up with them.
"Come with us, Sensei, and you won't die," they offered kindly, and Iruka stared back at them, standing between them and Kakashi.
"You're serious?" he asked disbelievingly.
"Come with us, Sensei."
"It was an accident," he screamed, clutching Kakashi's hand, and Kakashi flinched. "It was an accident, a damn accident!"
"Sensei," they said warningly, and Iruka shoved Kakashi further behind him. Kakashi jerked, then grabbed Iruka, twisting, and the Hunters leapt forward.
"An accident," Iruka repeated, dully, looking up at Kakashi. A Hunter fell to his knees near Iruka, headless, and the second stumbling backwards, clutching at his throat, blood spraying from between his fingers. "An accident." Kakashi staggered a few feet away, muttering Genma's name, and Raidou's, Anko's, Ibiki's, Gai's. "An accident." Iruka rolled away from the bodies, climbing to his feet, feeling sick.
He led Kakashi away from the bodies and deeper into the forest, holding his hand loosely. After a time he stopped, dropping Kakashi's hand, standing with his back to the older man. "Kakashi?" he asked, staring at the dirt. Kakashi stepped closer, reaching for Iruka's hand like a child, and Iruka grabbed akunai, slamming it into Kakashi's chest. Kakashi blinked, his eye going wide, staring down at the metal protruding from between his ribs. His mouth moved soundlessly and he reached out for Iruka, wrapping his fingers around the chuunin's neck. Iruka stared back, lips turning blue.
"Iruka," Kakashi said wonderingly, clenching his hands around Iruka's neck with a snap before he fell to the ground, twitching. His hand jerked, fingers curling and uncurling, reaching for Iruka as the younger man fell bonelessly to the ground. He stared up at the sky, blue through green leaves, and his hand spasmed a last time.
And Iruka lay dying in the dirt.
And...end? If I were a lesser girl, I'd say Owari. And I just ripped off Catch-22 and Of Mice and Men. Woot! And this was written while I was on a Reese's high, so any mistakes are entirely blamed upon chocolate and peanut butter. And vague + short = this ficlet. Erg, arg.
I'm so freakin' random right now. Sugar high, I believe. So I'm going to go read, and maybe organize my books again, and then watch Star Wars, and eventually sleep, and ignore the fact that I'm still sick. Woot!
"And Snowden lay dying in back."
That's it, nothing more, nothing less. I read this over a year ago, and this phrase, this simple sentence of six words, has never left my head. It's always there, lurking in the back of my mind, and more than once I've found myself mumbling it to myself, over and over. It's beautiful and ugly and dark and so many things, which is amazing, for so few words. I think this phrase, this simple thing, is what changed me as a writer. I now write things sparsely, trying to echo the same feelings I had when I read that phrase. And but God, what a phrase it is.
And I've come to realize I have a problem. I have this obsession with books, and it's kinda bad. I buy books like other people buy clothes, or something else. In the past few years, I've spent over three thousand dollars on books. I go the store, I see a book I find interesting, and I have to have it. And I don't really have the money to do this, since I'm a student, but I still do. More than once, this last year, I went without food just so I could buy another book that I wanted. The worst thing is, I don't even read all of the books I buy. I start them, but then I buy another, and move onto that one, and I don't finish the first one. >< Bad, bad habit. Costly habit, too, since books are exactly cheap. But at least it's not something like drugs, right?
So today, I bought a book (The Idiot, Dostoevsky) and a 'Books to Check Out' journal, to keep track of what I need to read, and I told myself I wouldn't buy another book until I'd read some that I hadn't finished yet. Did that work? Nope, because less than five hours later I was paying a cashier for Wind in the Willows. But I needed that book, for my collection. And I have these lists, this lists of hundred of books, everywhere, tacked up on walls. Lists of 'Greatest American Novels,' 'Books that Shaped America,' 'Greatest British Novels,' 'Greatest Books of All Time,' ect. And they're seriously everywhere. So now I'm going to consolidate all of the lists into my new little journal book, and then I'm going to go through all of my books, and the books I haven't finished I'll put in a bookshelf, seperate from the others, and work through it. That's my plan. And heavens, but do I have books... Far too many, but I want more, need more. God, I sound like an addict...
And in more news, a thought upon my writing. I'm beginning to lose interest, or rather, I'm beginning to feel inadequate. It's the reviews again. People say they like Tryin', that they love it, and now I'm so worried about the next chapter not being up to their liking, and that freaks me out. Alas. And then I read things other people write, and I feel inadequate all over again. I am thinking about taking a hiatus from the fanfiction world altogether, so I can read through my books and stable myself out.
Finally, the moment I'm sure people were waiting for, the drabble.
When Kakashi messed up and people were dead, when the council screamed 'treason' and 'traitor,' and Tsunade couldn't save Kakashi's head, Iruka grabbed his hand and ran. They ran for weeks, Kakashi numbly following Iruka's footsteps, muttering Genma's name under his breath again and again.
"Come," Iruka would urge, and Kakashi would stumble forward, clumsy and unsure, and Iruka would hold his hand, lead him away to safety. It was inevitable, though, that they would be found, that the Hunters would catch up with them.
"Come with us, Sensei, and you won't die," they offered kindly, and Iruka stared back at them, standing between them and Kakashi.
"You're serious?" he asked disbelievingly.
"Come with us, Sensei."
"It was an accident," he screamed, clutching Kakashi's hand, and Kakashi flinched. "It was an accident, a damn accident!"
"Sensei," they said warningly, and Iruka shoved Kakashi further behind him. Kakashi jerked, then grabbed Iruka, twisting, and the Hunters leapt forward.
"An accident," Iruka repeated, dully, looking up at Kakashi. A Hunter fell to his knees near Iruka, headless, and the second stumbling backwards, clutching at his throat, blood spraying from between his fingers. "An accident." Kakashi staggered a few feet away, muttering Genma's name, and Raidou's, Anko's, Ibiki's, Gai's. "An accident." Iruka rolled away from the bodies, climbing to his feet, feeling sick.
He led Kakashi away from the bodies and deeper into the forest, holding his hand loosely. After a time he stopped, dropping Kakashi's hand, standing with his back to the older man. "Kakashi?" he asked, staring at the dirt. Kakashi stepped closer, reaching for Iruka's hand like a child, and Iruka grabbed akunai, slamming it into Kakashi's chest. Kakashi blinked, his eye going wide, staring down at the metal protruding from between his ribs. His mouth moved soundlessly and he reached out for Iruka, wrapping his fingers around the chuunin's neck. Iruka stared back, lips turning blue.
"Iruka," Kakashi said wonderingly, clenching his hands around Iruka's neck with a snap before he fell to the ground, twitching. His hand jerked, fingers curling and uncurling, reaching for Iruka as the younger man fell bonelessly to the ground. He stared up at the sky, blue through green leaves, and his hand spasmed a last time.
And Iruka lay dying in the dirt.
And...end? If I were a lesser girl, I'd say Owari. And I just ripped off Catch-22 and Of Mice and Men. Woot! And this was written while I was on a Reese's high, so any mistakes are entirely blamed upon chocolate and peanut butter. And vague + short = this ficlet. Erg, arg.
I'm so freakin' random right now. Sugar high, I believe. So I'm going to go read, and maybe organize my books again, and then watch Star Wars, and eventually sleep, and ignore the fact that I'm still sick. Woot!
no subject
As for feeling inadequete about your writing, I always do, but I do believe that taking a haitus from writing is some thing that'll hinder you rather than help. You have to keep plugging away at these things and just keep going. I personally think that your writing is always at a very high level and so far I've not been disappointed in any of the parts of Tryin', each piece is at the same level or higher than the last piece. If you need encouragement I'll always be on hand to give it, hehe ^__^
Erm...as for this drabble, it was at your usual good standard and it was sad and did make me think of 'Of Mice and Men', which is a book I read in high school and made me cry. So yeah, suitably sad and very well written. great work again! ^__^
Weeeeeeeee Star Wars, hehehe ^^;
no subject
That actually makes sense, about a hiatus hindering me. Heaven knows that I never finish stories if I leave them for any amount of time. Ugh, I must seem so needy, always complaining about writing.
Star Wars! A day and I'll be standing in line! *dance* Can't wait! And I'm painting my face, and wearing a Star Wars t-shirt, and- *runs off babbling*
no subject
I'm pretty sure I complain about writing at least as much as you do, more likely more than, so don't worry about it at all.
And I'm not seeing Star Wars till Saturday but for some reason I'm still getting all hyped up about it for tomorrow. Now I'm the strange one, hehe.
no subject
WRT writing of fanfiction. A lot of FF authors go through stages of wondering why the hell they still bother. I certainly do. There's so many different reasons behind it: these aren't even my characters, nobody pays any attention, I'm just not up to the standards of the really good authors, I suck. etc
I think the thing you have to remember at the end of the day is /why/ people write stories, and /why/ people read them. It doesn't matter if it's fanfiction or orginal fic, poetry or prose or whatever. People are looking to be able to react to the story, to find something in it that touches them. Just as "And Snowden lay dying in back," touches you.
It's escapism, a coping method, a way of letting us work through what's in our heads and our hearts to make ourselves better and happier. If you can touch just one person with your writing, make one person feel, even if only for the duration of the story, then you've been successful.
When it comes to reviews, people are odd. Remember too that it's difficult to portray in words exactly what is going through your head. People write one thing and someone else reads it in an entirely different light. Furthermore, people write one review, then don't write another afraid that they'll look stalkery, or simply be repeating themselves. And others just don't know what to say and when they do say "that was fantastic!" what they really mean was "I spent all day thinking about that story once I'd read it and it made me think about all sorts of other things that I'd like to see the characters do and I wish you'd write them doing, because I can't and I can't ask you to do so because it's rude. I hope you update soon."
As for not living up to reviewers expectations - I think you have to remember that you are your own most nasty, below the belt reviewer you'll ever have. What you read in your stories and what other people read in them are two completely different things and follow totally different standards. Besides which, you do not owe anyone anything. You're writing for your own pleasure, because you've got an idea you think others should see. Your idea. Not theirs. Quality-wise, it doesn't matter if you're not consistent (which btw, you are) because it's your damn time you're putting into these stories, and it's not like you're getting paid to do it or anything!
And don't compare yourself to other people. So you look at what they write and think "jeez...I could never do that." Well maybe you couldn't. That doesn't mean you're bad though. It just means that that is their style and that type of writing is where they excel. You excel in your own type of writing, and they sure as hell couldn't write your style up to the standard to which you do. You're not worse, you're just different. *shrugs*
If you do decide to take a hiatus, we'll all still be here when you get back. :) Sorry to preach, I don't really intend to, I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't doubt yourself so much.
Now, for the interesting bit of this comment:
I read that drabble and was wondering why and what strange chord it was striking somewhere back in the deepest, darkest parts of my memeory. Of course! Of Mice and Men! What an odd comparison if you think of all the backplots and characters and morals of that story. *g* Nice effect!
That version of Kakashi made me shudder, lol. Poor old Iruka, what a choice to make. And I really appreciated the last line - it made me grin after having read the body of your post above. :D
no subject
How many books do I have? Um, not too many, thankfully. Around seven, eight hundred. I guess I'm building my own mini library. :)
Onto the next part. By no means were you preaching! You made me think, which is quite an accomplishment, since I'm very stubborn and set in my not-so-brilliant ways.
You give me hope. That's really all I can, that you give me hope, in just about everything. So I keep writing, because I have hope, and I'm happy, because I have hope, and so on and so forth. Such a comment... *click save* You seriously keep pushing my head in the right direction, you know that? And because I can't think up anything coherent, which seems to happen a lot when you say something, other than that you're brilliant and that I'm squeeing, I'll move onwards.
Shameless ripping off! First and last time I'll steal so blatantly from literature, I promise. Sorta. I try not to steal titles... But I'm glad you appreciated the last line. I just had to use it, at least once, because heaven knows I love it like nothing else. And what do they say, about the greatest flattery being...a word I can't remember. Mirroring? Echoing? Shameless ganking? Imitation? I think that's it...
Waha! And you saw the comparisons between that and Of Mice and Men. That makes very happy, indeed. This time, though Lenny was Snowden. (I'm sure that only made sense to me)
But yay! Oh, and a question? Did you catch the e-mail? Because if you didn't (I may have used a wrong address...), I finished the layout for Green Tea, if you want to look at it.
no subject
The layout is fantastic! It looks sparkley and cool! Very nice. I must post there now. I actually will have something later to add. Just have to write notes for a seminar tomorrow, but that shouldn't take me too long. ;)