Friday, November 27, 2009

Is reading for everyone?

Hello everyone!!! I’m thrilled, I’ve just finished school! Yay! No more boring classes or stupid homework, I’m free for 3 months! =)

I have realized I can’t really post as much as I’d like, because my head doesn’t let me, and my time doesn’t either. So I proposed myself to write, if not twice a week, once, which I believe is the most I can do. I hope you’re not too disappointed, though.

Well, for today’s post:

A few days ago I went with some friends to a bookstore near my school. They don’t like reading that much, while I am a total book dork, as Roni would say. I was showimg them “Endless world” by Ken Follet (you know, that bestseller with more than 1400 pages) and they, opening their eyes wide, bewildered, asked me if I would really read that. I answered ‘Yeah, wouldn’t you?’. So that started me thinking. I don’t sincerely believe everyone likes reading, for there are plenty of people, in particular young people, who can’t even stand the thought of it, and that is due to the variety of people, the diversity of opinions and likes, and the difference from one another (which, I believe, makes the world a better place). But I wonder, nevertheless: how can they live without reading? I know I couldn’t.

That made me think about a world without books (sure, hell for me). How would that be? I can’t even imagine… I know that kind of world would be totally uninteresting for me –even though there are other things I like besides reading- but I realize it is one of the things I enjoy doing the most, and I sure couldn’t live without it.

So what do you think? How would a world without books be? And, better still, what would it mean to you? How would you manage to survive? Come on, comment, tell me your opinion.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Reading vs. watching

Hey! Sorry I’ve not been writing for a while, I was just overwhelmed by my exams. I promise it won’t happen again, LOL.

I came across a cool post at Roni’s blog about reading a book before or after watching the movie based on it. I commented on the post as follows:

I am and have always been a read first person. I believe that if you watch a movie before reading its book you lose the chance to experience the reading.

When you read, you create a world based on what the writers tell you, but it is yours, it's in your head and therefore it is susceptible to your thoughts, your beliefs and your mood. For example, when the writer describes a house as white, your subconscious imagination may turn it black, just because YOU don’t see it that way.

Also, when I read a book after watching its movie, I fail to get the experience of creating that world, of imagining my own characters, and start seeing things the way they’re shown in the movie. That’s what happened with Harry Potter, for instance. I don’t even remember how I used to imagine the school, or even the main characters… When I read the books now, they just look and act like the actors. That is why I prefer reading before watching, so as to keep the excellent experience of imagining, which, after all, is what reading is all about.

After all, I seriously believe you, as a reader, finish writing the story when you read it.

So what do you think? Do you prefer reading before or after watching? Do you agree with the statement about finishing to write the story ourselves?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Nasty thoughts

Today I’m gonna do something someone back in time suggested that I did when I had so many emotions I felt like exploding, which is to write. She said that by writing you can get things off your chest, which is what I now desire most.

I have been through some situations that were stressful and made me very sad, from which I couldn’t get out, and that I will only be 100% relieved from when I come of age –and I am not very sure that then I will be fully relieved-. I don’t wish to upset or make you sad, so I won’t go into much detail about these situations, I’m just gonna say they stress me a lot and bring the worst of me, and give me the need to be alone and lie on my bed for hours. Or maybe the need to stand at the top floor of my building and shout my heart out till the anger and sadness go away… Or perhaps just curl up and hold my knees as tightly as I can, and play loud music, so as to avoid hearing my thoughts.

Instead of doing all that, I decided to follow the advice I once received and write, pour my feelings onto this blank blog thing, to turn my rage, sadness, anger into something else. So here I am. Devoting my thoughts to the noble art of writing to keep them away from cruel reality.

Not that reality is always so cruel, no. I have two different realities, which is something I don’t even understand. I have the suffering reality that thinks about these facts, that tells me I don’t have a way out, that depresses me and drives me nuts. And I have the other reality, the one which –thankfully- I perceive most of the time, the one that is wonderfully happy with her situation, the one that is in love, the one that has so many friends and enjoys spending her life with them, the one that reads, writes, the one that loves her granny so much she could endure the annoyance of being thoroughly clean just to be with her all the time, the one that loves dancing and singing… The one that lives.

Thankfully, the nicest reality is the most present in my life, but when these nasty situations appear, on comes the sad one, and away goes the happy. I just wish I could make the happy one stay with me a little longer, teach me how to defeat the sad one… Anyway, I believe everyone has two parts inside, the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the ying and the yang… And we, especially me, need to learn to live with them both, enjoying life as much as we can…

Thank you very much for enduring the boredom of reading this post, if you did, and if you didn’t, I don’t blame you, it must have been absolutely boring, but I needed to get this burden off of me, and I believe that by writing this I eased a bit the horrible pain I feel at the top of my stomach, I slightly loosened the huge knot I had in my soul. But don’t worry, tomorrow I’ll be happier, and I’ll do a much happier post.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Typing vs writing

I was looking at David's blog and reading a post he made about the fun of writing [See the whole post here], and a particular topic called my attention.
He mentioned that old-fashioned writers wrote in paper, and modern ones typed, but that he felt more like a writer and less like a typist when he wrote by hand. That started me thinking.
When I write by hand, I make arrows, graphs, drawings, etc. If you saw my scrapbooks, you would see a scribbled sea of little spiders, one on top of the other, a giant knot of black pencil (I hate writing by pen, but I love my black pencil). When I type, I cannot do this, of course, but I have other resources: I can get ideas, look for unknown words, find names or characters, etc. through google.

Personally, I write by hand, on a notebook or just on any scrap piece of paper, and when I am happy with my first draft, I copy it on the computer. That’s the moment when I start looking for stuff with my bestest friend, google. I may look for a name’s meaning, some geographical information, or maybe for a writing prompt to keep on writing. I believe that writing by hand doesn’t make you more a writer than typing, but it makes you feel (at least I do) that your creation is more yours, because instead of being written in Arial 12, it is written in your personal writing.

So what do you think? Is a writer less a writer because of writing on a computer? What do you prefer when writing?

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Award moment

Thank you very much Serene Chaos for this awesome award... I can't believe such a gifted, talented artist thought me worthy of receiving this... =) Check out her super cool blog:

These are the instructions coming with the award:

1. Thank whoever gave this to you
2. Copy award
3. Post it in your blog
4. Tell us 7 things that your readers don’t know
5. Link 7 new bloggers
6. Notify winners of the award with a comment on their blog
7. Keep being awesome!

So, for the 7 things my readers might not know:

  1. I am in love with someone 15 years older than me.
  2. I am about to finish my first year of Jazz Dance Teacher Training.
  3. I want to be an English teacher.
  4. I'm raising money up to buy a digital piano.
  5. I live and was born in Argentina.
  6. I wear braces... (I'll hopefully and willingly leave them in December! YAY!)

And now, ladies and gentlemen, the most awaited moment of the day... My chosen winners!

  1. Roni gives the best advice in regards to writing, and has helped me to write better! =)
  2. Jody has an amazing writing style.
  3. Deborah's posts are full of feeling and sympathy.
  4. Gavin writes and makes you feel exactly the way he wants.
  5. It's been a while since they post, but I love them, their prompts are of the best.
  6. Another blog with great prompts, C. Beth rocks it!
  7. Julie keeps a diary of her life that is very interesting to read.

All these blogs are great, go check them out!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Stormy night

Yesterday night I saw the most impressing storm I had ever seen. I had never seen such a wonderful, enormous and scary thing in my life. What I saw looked more or less like this:
Or this:

Let me explain myself. I live on a 9th floor, and my building overlooks the residential part of the city, which only has small houses, so I have an enormous view of the sky (it actually is half of my window). Last night there was a huge storm going on up there, with the wind rattling my windows and throwing my flowerpots away, but there was no rain. What I did see, was the most impressing demostration of nature power, when thousands or electricity particles moved in the sky. Not only I saw what you see in the pictures above, the vertical rays hitting the ground, but there were rays doing semi-circles and going in crazy angles.

It made me feel a bunch of unexpected emotions: I was veery scared, I felt exposed because I've never been so near to the sky during a storm, I felt the need to go and hide, to protect myself under something like a cave, but I also felt fascination, wonder and amazement. I was captured instantly by it, I could not take my eyes off the sky. It was funny because my family was watching their stupid soap opera and I was literallly giving my back to them, watching outside, my eyes glued to the shining clouds, waiting for the next flow of rays. At one point my mother even said: "We're watching the TV and she's watching hers". I could not help it, not only I hate TV, but I was totally absorbed by the whole thing. It also made me feel very tiny, insignificant, and made me realise how big the sky really is.

It was an unbelievable and marvellous experience, I can't wait to see it again!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

A police encounter

There was a post at The One Minute Writer about an encounter with a police officer that made me think a lot. Here is what I answered:

As soon as I saw today's prompt, I jumped to answer it, because whenever someone mentions the word 'police' to me, I instantly think about Garrido.
He was a police officer down in my village, and he was in charge of the busiest street, the one I walk through every day. He was a very cheerful man, saying hi to everyone and always smiling. He knew everyone there!
But one day, a couple was robbing a store, a Kevingston to be more specific, and he came to help, and was shot and instantly killed. This happened last February, and was a major piece of news, appearing in every news channel.
As justice is slower than anything in this country, the thieves are still waiting to be tried, and nothing has been done on the subject. If you looked at the floor of that main street, you saw, in huge white letters “Justice for Garrido or for his murderers?”
However, not everything is bad news, for he got a piece of love from all the grateful people he had helped: when you walk in those streets you see a black bow in every window, and there is a small monument at Kevingston's door. They even named that part of the street after him!
People were raising keys to build a real monument, because the government complained that copper was way too expensive... And that is just because there had been a misunderstanding between the government of the city and Garrido, because it was corrupt and he was not.
And that's what our government teaches us to do: not to appreciate people who sacrifice their lives to protect us.