Feb. 27th, 2006

entelein: (operator)
Oh, hurrah! The light was strong and developed this morning at 6:45AM, meaning that the slight lean I've had is slowly correcting itself. I had the winter blues, see, stooping me over with its flatness and dreary cold. There hasn't been much snow to assuage this seeping chill, and so the weather's felt a little more raw and unrewarding.

But oh, outside already, at 8:15AM, I can see across the floor and through the windows, the sun hitting the ornate facades of the building across the street. The financial district is still grimy and shadowed with salt and grime, but if you squint, you can imagine the whole place rain-washed and new. The kind of a clean where the pavement shines, and the damp, kinetic energy of Lake Michigan tingles your skin and hits your nose. I was taking the garbage out this morning when I realized something had profoundly changed over the last week: there were birds, chirping and chattering up a storm. It was a light, airy cacophany. It was welcomed.

I started reading Eragon on the train today. It's ... well, the prose is sort of terrible, but I am curious to read on and see what all the kerfuffle was about. I think I need to sit down with myself someday and figure out exactly what it is that makes this particular book lacking in style. Generally, I know it has something to do with telling too much, and not showing. It's very self-indulgent writing, isn't it, when someone tells you all the time what a character meant when he snorted abruptly, or turned on his heel? Are we so stupid as readers that we need to be told this, in every instance? Or have it re-phrased for us in the next paragraph, as if we were goldfish with no capacity for memory?

Part of me, the little devil's advocate that almost always turns up useless, says, "Well, this is not exactly adult fiction. This book was in the Young Adult section."

To the tiny demonic voice I reply, "That's no excuse. Kids are a lot smarter than we ever give them credit for. How are they ever to learn nuance and brevity if they only read stuff that is designed to spoon-feed their emotions? They will grow up to be bossy know-it-alls. They will learn that blather is a weapon. They will never delight in zen, in a moment bare of explanation."

Ah, well. I'm on page 23. Jury's still out.

This paragraph did make me laugh, though. Because I'm 12:

"Get ready," he whispered, his whole body vibrating. The tip of his sword moved in small circles. It had taken many plots and much pain to bring himself to this moment. It would not do to lose control now.

omg

Feb. 27th, 2006 10:37 am
entelein: (operator)
Girl Scout cookies have arrived.

I have 3 boxes of Thin Mints on their way to me.
entelein: (operator)
OK, so: reading a few more pages of Eragon, we get to the part where the traveling merchants clear their stalls away after a day of hard selling, and the troubadors come in and do their merry-making thing, y'know, to the delight and rapture of the poor mountain folk who are at a loss to create entertainment for themselves.

And the old, weathered bard comes forth at the last, and tells a tale of a Dragon Rider Gone Bad, and he was So Bad, that he killed his former friends, betraying from within their little group of fearsome Riders. In his mightiest battle before becoming Completely Bad, he kicks a guy in the balls, and then decapitates him.

And then the Villagers, Sad and Weary, and some with Tears Upon Their Cheeks, wandered slowly off to ponder such a story of Darkness.

I really don't know how much more I can take of this.

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