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Pick One: Reader’s Edition

I’m pretty sure I’ve done something like this before on my blog, but I like making up these little games. Be sure to tell me your responses if you answer these!

  • Series or Stand-alone?
  • Physical book or eBook?
  • Reading outside on a sunny day or inside on a rainy day?
  • Reading quietly or with an audiobook?
  • Romance or horror?
  • Fantasy or mystery?
  • Slow start or a rough ending?
  • Having all day to read or small chunks of time throughout the day?
  • Hard cover or paperback?
  • Meet Cute or Meet Ugly?
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Posted by on June 22, 2017 in Home

 

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Bad Endings

There was this certain book I remember reading in middle school, a book that was of my own choice rather than assigned reading. I don’t recall the title nor the author of the book, but I distinctly remember the ending of the story.

The gist of the book was a fox versus a hunter. The fox was the main character, a clever animal, always managing to outwit the hunter to stay alive. The fox was the character you were supposed to root for. Yet, the last page of the story merely consisted of the hunter finally shooting and killing the fox, saying something to the effect that “the game was over.”

Middle-school me stared in disbelief at the book, upset at the ending. I had expected the hunter to somehow meet his demise, perhaps not be killed off but to stop his relentless pursuit of the fox and its family, or at least for the fox to finally get away and get its happy ending.

On one hand, the ending was unexpected, perhaps trying to teach some sort of lesson about mortality and the tragedies of life. On the other hand, I had been set up to expect a happy ending from the rest of the novel, and I hated it.

I’ve read other books where the ending wasn’t what I expected, wasn’t how I wanted the books to end, but they were satisfactory and made sense. I may not have agreed with them, but they made sense. I luckily haven’t read a book that had an ending that made me so upset since that middle school book, and I’m curious if I read the book now if it would make more sense.

Have you read any books that were great up until the ending? Any book you wanted to throw across the room in frustration?

 
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Posted by on June 21, 2017 in Home

 

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Writing a Good Book

 
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Posted by on June 20, 2017 in Home

 

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Book to Movie Wish List

Alright, so the most if not all readers claim that the book is always better than the movie. However, there’s just something magical about seeing your favorite characters come to life on the big screen, about seeing the settings, hearing the lines, experiencing the story in an entirely new medium (if the movie is done well, of course).

Down below are a few books that I totally wouldn’t mind sitting in a dark theater for a few good hours to watch them on the big screen:

51gfkfjupcl-_sx322_bo1204203200_The Night Circus

Is anyone surprised to see this on the list? With the special effects capabilities that we have nowadays, I would love to see the magic from this special circus light up the movie theaters. The timeline that’s portrayed in the book may be a little tricky to keep up with, especially if one hasn’t read the book, but I’m certain the past and future parts of the story can be pulled off somehow.

23437156Six of Crows

A story with unique magic thrown into a wild adventure with a diverse bunch of young adults… Sign me up. The impossible risks these characters take in order to achieve their goals just for the chance at better lives had kept me hooked until I turned the very last page. With the right cast and director, this book may be a fantastic adventure movie.

20727654The Paper Magician

This was one of the most recent books I read, and I enjoyed the story and characters. The different types of magic were whimsical and interesting, considering they initially didn’t seem to be strong enough to help the protagonist achieve her goals in saving her mentor. It’s the type of imaginative fantasy that will bring in anyone who wants to go on an adventure amid dreams, hopes, and even doubts that need to be overcome.

41cx8my2unl-_sx324_bo1204203200_Fahrenheit 451

This book was one of the better books on my summer reading list way back when I was still in school. Dealing with censorship and the need to protect free speech, thought, and imagination, it’s an important book dealing with an important and tough subject. It’d be strikingly visual with the burning scenes and could be an emotional roller coaster for those who like to bring tissues to the movie theaters. (Edit: Apparently this was already made into a movie! Thanks Jen!)

51y2zuflwwl-_sx346_bo1204203200_Tuesdays with Morrie

This movie would definitely be a tearjerker. A memoir for a beloved teacher that taught about life as he struggled with his terminal illness, this movie would have all the gorgeous string music to accompany the narrator’s memories of his teacher while the audience cries. It would be a thought-provoking story with the accompanying visuals to really hammer the lessons in the minds of the viewers.

 
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Posted by on June 19, 2017 in Home

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Pancakes”

Pancakes

The scent of cinnamon-sprinkled apple pancakes awakened my nose and made me feel almost at home again.

This would never be home. Sure, the bed was comfortable, the sheets clean and soft, and they had given me the room with the view of the gorgeous woodlands behind the mansion, but I would never be able to think of this place as home.

A soft knock rattled my door. “Sierra, are you awake?”

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Yeah. G’morning, Mrs. Foster.”

“I hope you had a good rest,” the woman said. “Breakfast is on the table whenever you are ready to come down.”

“Thank you,” I said, and didn’t move until her footsteps disappeared.

I took a deep breath and swung my legs over the bed, my feet landing in the plush rug. The sun was beginning to rise and I moved like an automated robot throughout my morning routine. It was strange, of course. I had new clothes and supplies since my house had burned down with the rest of my family.

At least, that was the story everyone was telling me. I don’t really remember much at all from that night. All I recalled was waking up in some sort of hospital room to the astonishment of the doctors that had been running tests on me. They had asked me the usual questions, how was I feeling, did anything hurt, that sort of thing, and I mentioned how loudly they had been talking. The three doctors had exchanged puzzled glances before one confessed that they hadn’t been talking at all right before I woke up.

“Perhaps it was a dream,” one had said.

Perhaps it was me, a voice had responded. None of the doctors had heard it, and I shook my head, trying to dislodge the ghostly voice.

It didn’t work.

I apologize, the voice had said, then rambled about the test results and what was going on with my body. It took a bit of time before I realized that it had been the heart monitor talking to me.

A machine. There had been a machine’s voice in my head, and it was totally unfazed that I was freaking out about it. I may have babbled to the doctors about it, but I got shushed in response.

“It’s okay,” one of them had said. “You’re safe here. Everything will be alright–”

“What happened?” I snapped. “Why am I here?”

They paused, a heavy pause, and no one spoke until I started writhing through the wires that were hooked up to me.

“There was an accident,” the doctor said, and that was how I was told my family was dead.

A fire had blazed through my house, and I was the sole survivor. I think I remember my father getting me out before returning to the house for my mother. Smoke inhalation had been my father’s killer. I was told Mom hadn’t even made it outside of the house.

You will be late for breakfast.

I winced at the voice. “Be quiet…”

Breakfast will be cold.

“Shut up.”

Do not be late—

“Stop talking to me!” The alarm clock fell from the nightstand with a clatter from the pillow I chucked.

“Sierra?” A firmer knock sounded on the door.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to hide my heaving.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I said, clutching the edge of my bed to help myself stand back up and ignoring the fact that I couldn’t remember falling to my knees. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, Basil.”

I heard him sigh. “Okay. See you in a few.”

I’m sure he’d come back for me if I didn’t show up, and that was the only reason why I composed myself enough in order to keep my word.

I was the last to arrive in the dining room and took my seat — the added seat at the table, the odd one out — next to Willow. Her eyes were bright with the morning, but her mouth was too full of pancakes to properly wish me hello. Mrs. Foster gave me a smile, which I returned, from her seat at the head of the table, while Mr. Foster nodded at me before returning to the stock reports in his newspaper. Azalea and Camellia across the table barely glanced at me while they gossiped. Basil caught my eye and I smiled at him as well, hoping to portray that he needn’t worry about the girl that could hear machines talk.

I began to eat, but the nostalgia of the pancakes struck me like a bolt. It was thoughtful of the Fosters to prepare my favorite breakfast, but it just reminded me that this was not my home, that I could never go home again.

Home is where your family is. This wasn’t my family.

 
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Posted by on June 18, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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“Have a Prompt!” Saturday #100

prompt100

 
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Posted by on June 17, 2017 in Prompts

 

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Fall in Love

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Posted by on June 16, 2017 in Home

 

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