LOOK AT MY BOOKS

Whenever I go to Half Price Books to sell something, I always have to give myself a rather stern talking-to as I walk in: "Alright, Bish, this is the deal: You are here today to SELL books and RECEIVE money. You are not here to SPEND money and GET books. All selling, no spending. That's the purpose of this visit. Got it?" And I always promise myself that, really and truly, I'm on board. This time will be different!

It never works. It might, but they have so many Clearance shelves.

So anyway, yesterday I bought thirteen books ---

--- for twelve dollars and eighty-three cents.

1. Calling the Swan by Jean Thesman
This was the one that started to crack my resolve. It was fifty cents. How was I supposed to resist that? Fifty cents! Jean Thesman! I freaking adore Jean Thesman!
Just how much do I freaking adore her, you ask? Well, she was My Favorite Author Who is Not Neal Shusterman in middle school.* She writes historical fiction, fantasy, and straight-up "normal" YA. Whatever genre she dabbles in, though, she's always brilliant. I've read at least half of her books, and I've only ever come across one that I didn't absolutely love.
Having said all that, this particular book isn't quite my favorite one of hers, but that's sort of like saying that "The Gift" isn't quite my favorite episode of Buffy.

*Just so we're clear: Jean Thesman was most definitely not my second-favorite author in middle school! Neal Shusterman was My Favorite Author Who is Not Jean Thesman. I loved them both for different reasons, but couldn't have told you who I loved more. These days, I'd probably have to say that she has a better way with words than he does . . . but, in all fairness, it's been years since I read anything by either of them.

2. Swallowing Stones by Joyce McDonald
And this was the one that grabbed my resolve --- which, you may remember, had already started to crack --- and shattered it. Shattered, I tell you!
I can't remember how old I was when I first read Joyce McDonald's Shades of Simon Grey, but I do remember loving it so much that, when I stumbled upon Swallowing Stones years later, I snatched it up without a second thought. Sometime between that one and this one, I discovered Alice Hoffman, and something about this one reminded me of her. They both have a way of telling a story that's just . . . I mean, the story itself is really good, but you almost don't want to keep reading to see how it ends, because their way of telling it is so --- what's the word? Lyrical? Poetic? Sublime? --- that you want to quote just about every line.

Also, the main characters are a) a boy who gets a rifle for his seventeenth birthday and fires it off into the air like an idiot and b) a girl whose dad gets hit by the bullet and dies instantly. You'd have to try really hard to mess up such a premise.

3. Holy Bible: The New Testament
I know, I know.
But I bought it for two reasons:

• When I was a kid, I had one just like this.
• One of the sadder facts of living in Indiana is that, sooner or later, you are going to encounter a hypo-Christian who feels the need to preach to you even though, you know, you're just trying to get some coffee. Generally, the best thing to do in this situation is avoid eye contact and run like hell . . . but sometimes I'm in the mood for a healthy debate, so I listen to what they have to say and then trounce them. Because, you know, I was raised as a pastor's kid, so I know my Scripture backward and forward and upside-down and sideways; in other words, I know Jesus better than any of these bitches.* So I guess what I'm saying is, I bought this book for ammo.

*Seriously, some of the people who try to lecture you about the sanctity of the Ten Commandments don't even know where they are. That is, if you hand them a Bible and ask them to actually read the Ten Commandments, they wouldn't know where to look.

4. Scrambled Eggs at Midnight by Brad Barkley & Heather Hepler
I've read this once before, but it's been about a decade (more? less?). I don't remember much of it, but it's about a boy and a girl, both of whom have strained relationships with their parents. They bond over that, and it's really sweet. Actually, you know, I'm not certain it's really sweet; my memories of it are that faint.
But I do remember that the story is told in chapters that alternate between the boy's point of view (written by Brad Barkley) and the girl's (written by Heather Hepler), and (largely due to my fondness for Paula Danziger & Ann M. Martin's P.S. Longer Letter Later and its sequel, Snail Mail No More) I have a serious weakness for stories that are told this way.

5. Lulu Dark Can See Through Walls by Bennett Madison
This is another one that I've read once before, a number of years and years ago. My memories of this one are slightly better: Lulu Dark is a girl who despises "girl detective" stories, but finds herself sort of living one when someone steals her favorite purse and she investigates. She has a best (straight male?) friend who helped her realize that it really wasn't a big deal when her dad got a boyfriend.
That's all I got.
Also, the author (who wrote this when he was twenty-three!) is a cutie.

6. A Wolf at the Door and Other Retold Fairy Tales edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling
OH MY GOD, SO GOOD.
I've read this several times, and I wholeheartedly, unabashedly, absolutely love it! Love. All the stories are good, but my favorite is Garth Nix's "Hansel's Eyes," in which part of the reason they're able to defeat the witch is that, whoops, Gretel turns out to have her own knack for witchcraft!

7. Surviving the Applewhites by Stephanie S. Tolan
There were seven or eight copies of this on one of the "normal" shelves, so I took a picture to remind myself to get it from the library (again). Then I found this copy on the Clearance shelf, and that was that.
Anyway. If you read books at all, you've probably read quite a few "unlikely friendship" stories in your time, but I bet you've never read one quite like this. A huge part of the reason Jake and E. D. finally start to like each other, which is crucial to the plot, is that --- wait for it --- they both get involved in her family's multi-racial production of The Sound of Music.
Seriously. It's about as awesome as it sounds.

8. Just Like That by Marsha Qualey
I barely remember reading Marsha Qualey's Thin Ice, but I do remember enjoying it so much that I later picked up Close to a Killer (which I also barely remember) just because she wrote it. So when I found this, I was pretty damn excited. So excited, in fact, that I started to read the description on the back cover and then stopped myself because, "You know what, that's enough. I'm buying this."

9. The Princess Diaries and
10. The Princess Diaries, Volume II: Princess in the Spotlight by Meg Cabot
Look, say what you will about Meg Cabot (for example: you could say that, whether she's writing about a girl who finds out that she's a princess or writing about a girl who can talk to ghosts or writing about a girl who goes to a record store when she's supposed to be in art class and accidentally saves the President's life, all of her stories eventually start to sound the same --- which is partly because all of her books that are not about Allie Finkle contain healthy helpings of romance, and absolutely all of her heroines are secretly totally in lust with some guy who is completely, disgustingly, impossibly perfect; so eventually you just can't help but go, "Oh look, is Meg Cabot still writing books? I used to love her, but I AM BORED WITH THIS") (. . . you know, just for example), but she knows how to tell a story, and she is funny. Uproariously funny. Hilariously funny. Clutch-your-sides, don't-read-this-in-public, read-your-favorite-passage-out-loud-to-your-mother funny.

11. Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh
If you know anything about me, you're probably wondering, "Don't you already have a copy of your favorite book of all time?" To which the answer is a resounding yes. Yes, of course I do. It's hardcover, it's in perfect condition, it still has that old-book smell, and I'm fairly certain it's a first edition. (So basically, it's the most valuable thing I own.)
But now, the next time I'm having a conversation about books with someone and they say, "Oh yeah, I've always wanted to read that one," I don't have to go through Well I would love to let you borrow my copy, but the last time I did that Sarah Hersh kept "forgetting" to return it and "forgetting" and "forgetting," and then, whoops, high school ended and I never saw her again, so no, I'm sorry, you're a great friend but this is a book that I've loved since I was eight years old (so young that I figured "eleven = mature") and you could easily get it from the library YOU KNOW or go to Amazon or eBay and just freaking buy it for next to nothing so no, I'm sorry, you can't. Ever in my head; instead, I can cheerily offer to lend them this copy!

12. Shelf Discovery: The Teen Classics We Never Stopped Reading by Lizzie Skurnick
A book about books? YES, PLEASE.

(One of the many books to get written about is Harriet the Spy, so that tells you right away that this Lizzie Sknurnick person knows what she's talking about.)

13. The Vampire Diaries, Volume II: The Struggle by L. J. Smith
Source material for my favorite current TV show. A no-brainer, right? But wait, haven't I been rather vocal in the past about how I scanned the back covers as a child enough to make up my mind to never actually read the books?
Well, yes.
But just look at this crap:

I couldn't help it. (As if that picture wasn't unintentionally hilarious all on its own --- and it is --- there's a line on the back that sums up Damon in one sentence: "Determined to make Elena his queen of darkness, he'd kill his own brother to possess her." I keep picturing Ian Somerhalder using the phrase "queen of darkness" in a scene --- entirely without irony, mind you --- and, oh my God, I just might laugh until I die.)
Also, you know, who can say? I might actually enjoy it. I mean, I doubt it very much ---

Bonnie isn't a witch,
Caroline isn't a vampire,
Elena wants to be a vampire,
Jeremy doesn't exist

--- but it might happen.

(Seriously, though, I doubt I'll actually read this any time soon. It just amuses me to know that it's there.)

111 Girls Who Kick Ass, Number 9: Rachel

Well, duh.

You know, honestly, trying to explain why Rachel kicks ass is a bit like trying to explain . . . um . . . well, the point is, she's so badass that I can't even think of a decent metaphor here.

Wait, I've got one! Trying to explain why Rachel the Animorph kicks ass is sort of like trying to explain why Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the character, not the show) kicks ass. Frankly, I think the fact that she was born in the wrong universe is the only reason Rachel wasn't the Vampire Slayer instead of Buffy. (That may not make all the sense in the world . . . but, if you're a fan of both series, just think about it for a second and tell me you don't see my point.)

The Animorphs are unusual, as the heroes of a kids' series, because they're not particularly qualified to save the world. Marco and Jake both have personal reasons for fighting; Tobias gets trapped as a red-tailed hawk on their very first mission; Ax is trapped on Earth, which is lightyears away from his home planet; and Cassie can't stand the thought of what'll happen to the planet and everyone on it if they don't fight the Yeerks.

But Rachel jumps into the war like it's her calling.

This may sound lame, but I can't talk about Rachel too much because her character development is probably my favorite part of the entire series and, on the off-chance that anyone reading this is just starting to read the books, I'd rather not spoil anything. I'll just say one thing more: The very first time she morphs, she turns into an elephant and, three seconds later, smashes a Hork-Bajir.

Also: "Earth is a tough neighborhood."*





*I kept thinking of this quote the entire time I was watching The Avengers.

111 Girls Who Kick Ass, Number 8: Cassie

Yes, Cassie.

If you're familiar with the series, you might have expected me to write about Rachel (and don't you worry; she's getting her own entry). If you're not familiar with the series, Animorphs is about six kids who get tossed into a war to save everyone on Earth from being enslaved by a bunch of mind-controlling parasitic aliens from outer space. They could be anyone: your pastor, your teacher, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, your big brother, your president . . .

And our only hope is six kids who can turn into any animal they touch. For two hours at a time.

Yeah, we're pretty much screwed.

Anyway! Cassie!

Despite the fact that the last book was published in May of 2001, you can find corners of the Internet where the fandom is still fairly active --- and, more often than not, whenever the discussion turns to the question of who's your favorite Animorph, Cassie is almost always always always picked dead last. Most fans don't outright hate her, but hardly anyone loves her.

Personally, I can only understand this on an intellectual level. These books were such an enormous part of my childhood that I love all six main characters pretty much equally. They all have fleshed-out personalities with their own believable strengths and weaknesses; picking one favorite would be like . . . well, frankly, it would be even more difficult than picking one favorite from the Mane Six of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

I think a big part of Cassie's status as the not-so-favorite comes from the moment in book nineteen where she briefly quits the group. And I get that, but if she hadn't quit none of the kids ever would've found out that there were some Yeerks who actually felt bad about enslaving other species. (Then again, it could be because she got saddled with The Hidden and The Unexpected, two of the dumbest books in the whole series.)


Alright, then. Here's why she's such a badass:

1. You know how, in the Harry Potter movies, it takes Professor McGonagall about three seconds to turn into a cat? And, in those three seconds, all of her is turning at exactly the same speed? And it's pretty cool to watch? Morphing in this series is absolutely nothing like that. It's DISGUSTING. It always takes at least a minute or so, and there's no controlling how it'll happen. Say you're turning into a fly. Chances are the first change will be your insect eyes just popping out of your human face --- they won't be the right size until the rest of you starts to shrink. But Cassie is special. She has enough control to, for example, look like an angel for a few seconds when she's demorphing from an osprey. When Ax joins the group, he explains that there are people on his planet who are so good at morphing that it's considered an art, and Cassie could be one of them.
2. As if that wasn't awesome enough, in Megamorphs 4 we find out that she was born with another power she didn't even know about. When the Drode (who is basically a harbinger for Krayak, the series' Big Bad) discovers this power, he gets downright livid with the Ellimist (Big Good). It's bad enough that the Animorphs include Elfangor's son, Elfangor's little brother, and the son of Visser One's host body --- but, by making sure that Cassie was also one of them, he basically cheated and gave good an unfair advantage.
3. From chapter one of book one, it is firmly established that Cassie is more sensitive than anyone else in the group. She always knows just what to say to diffuse an argument. Which is badass in its own way, of course . . . but not until book twenty does anyone realize that she is also really good at manipulating people. She masterminds every single detail of the plan to stop David without outright killing him (and you could make an argument that killing would have been more merciful).
4. As you can see in the picture, Cassie is black. This is only an issue one time in the entire series, when the kids are stuck in an alternate-history Princeton in the late 1930s (long story) and some racist asshole can't believe that a "colored" girl is, gasp, looking him in the eye and speaking to him like they're equals. So she very kindly tells him that she can of course turn white if that'll make him more comfortable. And then she morphs a polar bear.
5. Whenever she kisses Jake, it is always less of an "I like you because you're a boy and you make me feel all breathless" thing and more of an "I can't believe we're alive!" thing.
6. It may not seem like a particularly effective way to stop an alien invasion (and it's not), but just think about all the things you could do if you could turn into animals. You could fly, you could become a lot stronger than any human on the planet, you could gain superspeed . . . all of which Cassie points out in the very first book.
7. Can't believe I almost forgot this one! If you ever want proof that Cassie kicks just as much ass as anyone else on the team, read book twenty-nine. She singlehandedly completes a mission that could have left them all exposed to Visser Three, AND THEN she comes home and performs brain surgery on an alien.

Which Witch is Best (and Why)

NOTE: This post is completely free of TVD spoilers!


So it's never been a secret that, as far back as the pilot, I have found it pretty much impossible to stop myself from comparing Bonnie Bennett of The Vampire Diaries to Willow Rosenberg of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Today I'd like to talk about why I think Willow is a better witch -- although, honestly, I suppose I could just say something like

Willow is not only my favorite witch in all of fiction, she's pretty much my favorite fictional character of all time. Bonnie is neither of those things.

The end.

. . . But that wouldn't be very much fun to read, would it?

Anyway.

To break the whole thing down in a way that's as simple as it is uncomplicated, it seems to me that Willow is a better witch for two reasons, which I will discuss "at length" (a phrase which, in this context, can be read as "until I get bored"):

1. She is occasionally given storylines that have little or nothing to do with being a witch, and that makes her a stronger character.

Which may be somewhat unfair to Bonnie, whose first line in her first scene in the first episode was, "So, Grams is telling me I'm psychic -- our ancestors were from Salem; witches and all that" (note that I am quoting from memory, so the line may not be exactly verbatim) . . . but that just reinforces the point, don'tcha think? I mean, we are almost done with season three, and what do we know about her? She's Elena's best friend in the world; they're so close that they consider each other sisters. She's a witch who comes from a family of witches. She . . . oh, wait, THAT'S IT. There is absolutely nothing else to her character: anything that we've found out about her in nearly three years has had something to do with witchcraft (example: we finally got to meet her mother, and, well, yeah).

In stark contrast, we know plenty about Willow that has absolutely NOTHING to do with witchraft. Her crush on Xander, her friendship with Buffy, her Jewish background, her status as the smartest student in school, her romance with Oz, her strained relationship with her parents. All of this was established very early on in the series, and it made her a remarkably strong character, and that made her a better witch.


2. She made her own rules about magic.

To compare each of them to other witches from different works, whereas Willow greatly resembles Granny Weatherwax (widely regarded as the most powerful witch alive; doesn't know the meaning of the word "impossible"), Bonnie is more akin to Hermione Granger (very intelligent, very powerful, but rarely uses magic for anything she hasn't read about in a book).

I mean, just think about how much Willow has accomplished with magic. She restored Angel's soul (twice!). She saved her own life by floating a pencil. She attracted the attention of D'Hoffryn, even though she had never done any vengeance. She saved Buffy from the astral realm. She hurt Glory, who was a GOD (again, twice!). She brought Buffy back to life. She broke that whole "one girl in all the world" rule.

To hammer the point home: In the final season, the Big Bad is (kind of sort of) Satan By Another Name. One of the first things he does when he comes to town? He tries to convince Willow to kill herself because his plan would be so much easier without her around to muck things up.

Now, then. Bonnie. To be clear, I don't think her by-the-book approach to magic is necessarily a bad thing. She's obviously performed some pretty extraordinary feats, and she is one of only two humans Klaus views as a threat (note that the other is also a witch). Both of which are all the more remarkable when you consider that she's known about her powers for less than TWO YEARS.

But . . . seriously, it's like she forgets how powerful she is sometimes. Most of the time. I get that Klaus is a Big Damn Deal, and without him the show wouldn't be nearly as dramatic, but she's the one character who can really hurt him without some silly Deus Ex Machina one-of-a-kind super-special weapon, and she seems to spend all her time either worrying about who he's going to hurt next or sitting on the sidelines while the rest of the heroes try to take him out. Or, worse yet, letting him manipulate her into helping him!

So I guess what I'm saying is, I'd like to see her put down her books and start using her power. Stop fretting about what magic "can" or "can't" do, and make it work for her.

Just a thought.

How and Why I Gave The Vampire Diaries Half a Chance

Long story short: This is all Adam's fault and I may never forgive him.

Long story long:

As any fan who's not completely unobservant can tell you, The Vampire Diaries is "based upon the book by L. J. Smith." Or, more accurately, book series. There are four books, published in 1991 and 1992, that inspired the show: The Awakening, The Struggle, The Fury, and Dark Reunion.

Considering how much I (obviously) love the show, this may come as a bit of a surprise, but I have never given any of the books a chance, and probably never will.

Let's back up . . .

I'm twenty-four years old. It's probably pretty safe to say that I read a lot more than the "average" twenty-four-year-old. When I was twelve, though, I read even more. Picture what Hermione might have been like if Ron and Harry hadn't saved her from the troll and finally befriended her. That's not how bad I was. Picture what Hermione might have been like if she never got a letter from Hogwarts, never discovered that she could do magic, and was stuck in a school that did not even come close to meeting her intellectual needs. That is how much I read. Basically, I only ever did things like go to church or mow the lawn or go to bed at a decent hour* because my parents said I absolutely had to.

So, obviously, I spent more than a little bit of time of at the local library. I was, in fact, there so often that most of the staff recognized me and most of my family, and at least two of them knew me by name. I read whatever I could get my hands on - mostly Animorphs (which, to this day, is still one of my favorite pieces of fiction in the history of fiction), any sort of mystery, M. E. Kerr, Neal Shusterman, Walter Dean Myers, Jean Thesman, Gregory Maguire, Louise Rennison, and Paula Danziger. Even if I didn't actually take it home and read it, I had a passing familiarity with pretty much everything in the library's juvenile fiction/YA section . . . including The Vampire Diaries.

Now, I want to be perfectly clear. I have no lack of respect for L. J. Smith. According to the "paying your light bill" theory of writing talent (Stephen King?), she obviously has enough to fund quite an early retirement, so more power to her. But I never ever felt like reading any of her books because, despite featuring enough occult elements to send my mother into conniptions (which was usually my definition of a rollicking good read), even when I was twelve, they sounded ridiculous. Here's what I gathered from reading the backs of the books and occasionally skimming through them: After meeting her super-hot vampire boyfriend and his dark and mysterious vampire brother who also wants her, Elena Gilbert has a bunch of misadventures that lead to the following complications: She dies. She comes back as a vampire. She dies again. She comes back as an angel. She has different sets of wings that do different sorts of magic. She lives happily ever after or something.

Sorry, but I'm just not going to read that. Unless there's a cute girl (preferably with superstrength) running around killing them and looking like a total badass, I have never cared for vampires very much. Drinking blood is icky.

Fast forward to the fall of 2009. Wont as I am to hang out in bookstores, I was aware that the series had been adapted for television almost as soon as it happened, even though I haven't had "real" TV at home since before I was old enough to drink. So I saw the posters and the tote bags and the re-released actual books (now with actors on the covers) and they brought back vivid memories of my twelve-year-old fed-up-ness; my reaction at the time was basically, "Even if this was a good idea, True Blood already did it better, bitches."

Fast forward again to the very early spring of 2011. My best friend in the world, Adam -- well, okay, he's one of my ten or so best friends in the world; I'm pretty blessed in that department -- had recently come out to me (note that I realized he was gay about three seconds after meeting him . . . in December of 2008) and we were bonding over how much we were attracted or not attracted to this or that actor from this or that TV show, blah blah blah. He very quickly told me that he had just started watching this fairly new show called The Vampire Diaries and fallen heels over head for both of the male leads and I should start watching it so I could fall equally hard. But I told him about how familiar I already was with the books, and how much I was not interested in them, so for a while the subject was dropped.

In the last week of April 2011, my depression, which I had spent basically my whole life denying (note: It probably would have been a lot easier to start dealing with when I was twelve if I hadn't been stuck in such a shitty school at such a crucial time in my life. But that's water under the whatever at this point), spiraled the hell out of control. So I took a medical leave from my job and enrolled in some pretty intense group therapy and found that I had a maddening amount of free time. Which, to be sure, is a very very very good thing. Therapy is exhausting. Even though you look forward to it, you dread going there every day; even if all you do is listen, you spend the rest of the day feeling burnt out. You're not allowed to drink or use drugs, so you have to deal with your feelings all on your own, which is probably fairly new for you (let's face it: if you were more accustomed to dealing with your feelings all on your own, you probably wouldn't have landed yourself in group).

So, obviously, I spent a lot of that free time on the Internet. I finally started watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, which was SUCH a good thing -- to make another long story very short, when you're dealing with depression and feeling totally alone in the world even though friends you didn't know you had have suddenly come out of nowhere to tell you how proud they are that you're finally dealing with depression, it does you an insane amount of good to hear that loyalty + laughter + generosity + honesty + kindness = friendship, which is literally the exact same thing as magic -- but there were only so many episodes, you know? They couldn't take up all of my free time.

Anyway, one day I got bored enough to read about the show on tvtropes.org (which, if you've never visited, I don't recommend unless you tell someone you're going there first and ask them to check up on you; otherwise you'll still be poring over character pages six days later, and your list of stuff to check out will be about a mile high), where I came across a bit of information that radically altered my entire stance on the show: Bonnie was a witch. She was also the main character's best friend. THE MAIN CHARACTER'S BEST FRIEND WAS A WITCH.

The sound I made when I read this was pretty fricking hilarious.

At this point, we need to talk a bit about my history with witches.

When I was two or three, my mother sat me down to watch The Wizard of Oz. Now, obviously, I was already familiar with the concept of witches -- we've always been a fairly Disney-heavy family, and Mom has this big book of fairy tales from when she was a kid that she made sure to read to all three of her children because she's a good parent like that -- but, up until then, when I heard the word "witch," I mostly thought of Ursula from The Little Mermaid or The Queen from Snow White and got all terrified (note: I was afraid of The Queen, not The Hag; I didn't really start to believe that The Queen was entirely fictional until I was at least seven years old, and for the longest time I honestly believed that she was going to jump out of my closet and eat me whenever I was naked -- yeah, I know, analyze that one).

The Wizard of Oz was different, though, right from the start. I don't know what it was, but something about The Wicked Witch of the West made me fall in love with her right away. I couldn't figure out why she was supposedly so "wicked," either. If a house fell on me and my shoes miraculously survived, I'd certainly want my little sister to have them, and I'd be pretty angry if a total stranger showed up and took them from her.

And then there was Glinda. The Good Witch of the North. Right. Good. SAYS WHO? First she gives the dead woman's shoes to the girl who inadvertently killed her, even though her sister obviously deserves to keep them, then she sends Dorothy off on a quest to meet the Wizard so he can send her home. Then, AFTER THE WHOLE MOVIE HAS ALREADY HAPPENED, she conveniently remembers that, oh hey, the shoes she forced her to steal have the power to take her home whenever she feels like it.

I think it's safe to say that this was the first time in my life a fictional character made me so angry.

I just flat-out did not get it. The "Wicked" Witch was clearly misunderstood and mistreated; the "Good" Witch was clearly a manipulative little snot. Oh, and also? Her dress was tacky.

So, ever since then, I have been absolutely fascinated by the notion of witches in fiction. Good or evil, funny or serious, ridiculously powerful or not so much, pseudo-realistic or entirely made-up, whether they actually call themselves witches or not, their presence in a story almost always ensures that I'm going to enjoy it about ten times more than I would without them.

(For those who are curious, some of my favorite witches include: Willow Rosenberg and Tara Maclay from Buffy the Vampire Slayer; Frau Totenkinder from Fables; the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus; certain characters from Robin McKinley's Sunshine; Elphaba and Glinda from Wicked; Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg, Magrat Garlick, Agnes "Perdita" X. Nitt, and - most especially - Tiffany Aching from Terry Pratchett's Discworld books; Nico Minoru from Runaways; Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty; Rita Repulsa from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers; pretty much any witch from any fairy tale ever; Juniper, Gentian, and Rosemary from a short story in a book I read long ago that I think was called Things That Go Bump in the Night; Twilight Sparkle from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, because yes, she totally counts; Professor McGonagall and Molly Weasley from Harry Potter; Thessaly from The Sandman; the witch queens from Stardust, either the book or the movie; all three generations of Owens sisters from Practical Magic - the book, NOT the movie**; Marnie and her family from Halloweentown and its sequels; Endora from Bewitched; the cool aunt from The Mists of Avalon; Nancy, Rochelle, Bonnie, and Sarah from The Craft; and Rachel, Alex, and Daphne from the godawful stories I've been writing all my life.)

Sooo, when I finally found out about Bonnie, I fell out of my chair and thrashed about for a second, snatched up my phone, and quickly typed up a text message to Adam: "If you wanted me to watch The Vampire Diaries so much, why the FUCK didn't you mention that the main character's best friend is a witch?!" Always one to take things in stride, he nonchalantly replied, "Elena's best friend Bonnie is a witch. Now watch."

So I did, and I haven't looked back since.

Which you'd think would be the end of this post, and it probably should be, but I feel compelled to mention that the witchcraft is not what kept me watching. As I said, I got into the show while I was going through therapy. It turns out that experiencing fiction and feeling what the characters feel is a pretty excellent way to cope with depression (and quite a bit easier than therapy, although it's obviously no substitute), so it was the (platonic) relationships between the characters that made me go from "alright, I'll give it a chance since there's a witch at the center of things" to "sweet holy Moses, I actually thoroughly enjoy this show!" I really started to fall in love with Elena in the pilot when she follows Jeremy into the bathroom and he tells her that she needs to "chill herself," and my heart melted a little later in the pilot when Stefan said "You won't be sad forever, Elena." So, yeah, there you have it.

Oh, also, the fact that my mother is indirectly responsible for my fascination with witches will always be deliciously ironic. Heh.

More later.

Much love,
Ryan










*Which, by the way, Mom and David? Do either of you have any idea how often I stayed up reading by the light of my glow-in-the-dark watch? Because it was a lot.

**The movie isn't bad, but it's so different that Warner Brothers could've given everyone different names and probably gotten out of paying Alice Hoffman any royalties without any kind of legal repercussions.

Just Wow

So last night I stayed up at least an hour and a half later than I should have so I could finish reading The Evolution of Ethan Poe by Robin Reardon. Today I am stupid tired, but it was TOTALLY WORTH IT. Observe:

"Bats are special to you, right?"
"They're supposed to be my power animal."
He nods. "I wondered if you knew that. Who told you?"
"Heidi. Etta's friend."
"Friend?" His voice gives the word an odd inflection I can't interpret. And then he says, "Heidi Wolcott. Of course."
I don't know what this means, either. "Yeah. She's into, you know, energy, and power animals, that sort of thing. But what's the bat got to do with this?"
Shane's laugh is friendly, gentle. "Ethan, your power animal has to do with everything. But that's another topic. I was just trying to find out if you'd heard about the concept. Because the dog is a power animal, too. And the powers it brings have to do with healing emotional wounds, and with unconditional love." He takes a sip of coffee. "I'm going to say that last bit again, because I want it to sink in." He pauses and makes sure my eyes are on his. "Unconditional love. Do you have any concept of what that is?"
It's a term I've heard before, sure, but any deep meaning isn't all that clear to me. "I guess not really."
"It means there is no condition, no situation whatsoever in which that love would go away. There is nothing you could do to lose it. There's nothing you can do to get it, either; it comes to you or it doesn't. And you are one lucky son of a bitch. You had it in that dog. And the fact that that particular dog could just as easily have ripped your throat out is huge. So you were given unconditional love from an animal with healing powers who could have had you for breakfast. Most people never get it anywhere. You were damn lucky to have it, but that makes the loss just about the worst thing in the universe."
He shrugs. "Lots of parents think they give it to their kids, and I'm sure many of them come damn close. Still . . ." He shakes his head and sips again, and in the silence I hear my mother's words: Can't say I'd be happy about it. And I can't even imagine what my dad would say if I told him I'm gay.
I fill my mouth with bitter coffee and swallow hard. "I sure as hell don't get it from Max."
"Oh, you'll never get it from a lover."
This stuns me. "Why not?"
His empty mug makes a loud thud on the wooden table. "You're not giving it to him, either. All he has to do is not sit with you on the bus and you don't love him as much. And when he expresses confusion over why Two's death is so hurtful for you, instead of telling him why, you fly into a rage because he doesn't know you well enough. Lovers make lots of demands on each other. That makes it conditional. And that's the opposite of unconditional love."

AND ALSO:

". . . love spends so much time between sweetness and pain that sometimes they feel like the same thing."


So, yeah, thoroughly enjoyed. More later. Still digesting.

"You'll Think of Something"

Harriet the Spy, by Louise Fitzhugh, is my favorite book of all time.

I've loved it for so long now that I can barely remember a time when I didn't love it -- although that's crap, because I perfectly remember the summer when my cousins and I (who were all staying with our grandparents) were so psyched to see the first Nickelodeon movie.

(That's right. I found out about my favorite book of all time because Nickelodeon turned it into a movie.

Shut up, okay? I was eight. And I went to a church-school where I had a lot of "Jesus fiction" thrown at me. And the local librarians were not all that friendly. And I was painfully shy. And it had barely been a year since Dad died.

So I was somewhat sheltered.

Anyway, the movie is excellent even though the Robinsons aren't in it.)

Honestly, I don't remember precisely how old I was the first time I read the book. What I do remember is that, at 297 pages, it actually seemed long. (I was mostly reading Animorphs and The Hardy Boys, which tended to weigh in at a max of 150.) Since that first time, I have read it at least once a year.

When I was in third grade, I took the VHS to class and we all loved it. For a hot minute, everyone in Mrs. Judson's class had a composition book full of notes about each other. After a while, we were all forbidden to bring our notebooks to school unless we wrote nothing but nice things (this was a very wise decision on her part, since she had seen the movie) -- so I, the trendsetter, started leaving my notebook at home and racing to fill it at the end of every day. Not that I was full of not-nice things to say about my classmates, but I was determined to write the truth, since I had seen the movie.

I was twenty when I accidentally found out that the author, who died in 1974, was sort of well-known among the lesbian community of the day. Which, it being the seventies, was not a particularly well-known community.

It's not nearly my favorite of all time, but one movie I like rather a lot (somewhat in spite of myself) is Definitely, Maybe. A scene that stands out is the one where April explains why she loves Jane Eyre (which I have never read) so much, and that she rereads it every year because "every time it's different; it teaches me new things." For me, Harriet the Spy is exactly the same way.

Probably the most annoying thing about Depression is that, for longer than I'd care to admit, I stopped reading. Being a lifelong bookworm, this made me feel rather out of sorts. Once I did start to deal with things and feel like myself again, I was eager to get back into books. Naturally, this one was my first choice.

Okay. I'm not really sure what my point is. I had a dream about the book and the movie last night, but it wasn't very clear (my dream also included The Incredibles 2 -- which could have been called Violet to the Rescue! -- and Ponies and boys and boys with Ponies and guacamole and fingerless gloves).

I guess what I'm getting at is this one scene in the movie that's always resonated with me. It does not appear in the book, because in the book Ole Golly just sends Harriet a letter (at her parents' request; personally, I don't think Harriet put two and two together until years later), which . . . isn't all that interesting to watch . . . so, in the movie, she physically comes back for a visit and they have a chat and she says (note: this isn't quite verbatim),

"You're an individual, and that scares people."

Harriet, bless her, wants to know, "So what am I supposed to do?"

"You stay true to Harriet and accept the cost."

Ole Golly then admonishes that Harriet is eleven, so it's time for her to start writing something other than notes.

"Like what?"

"You'll think of something."

So . . . that was my point, I guess. Kind of.

Also, in case you missed it, I just stumbled upon the answer to every social quirk that's been getting on my nerves lately: I'm an individual, and that scares people.

"People" can suck it. I'm AWESOME.

So I Read The Hunger Games

NOTE: This post is going to be 100% spoiler-free!

Alright.

I've been interested in this trilogy for a while, so I was pretty hyped when I got book one from the library. When I actually read it, though, I really only started out of boredom.

Several hours later, I finished it. (Seriously, it's that difficult to put down.)

I thought, Now I feel bored out of my mind again.

I thought, I should've got all three books from the library at the same time. Really could've planned that a little better.

The next day, I went to the library's website and requested books two and three. They each had about fifty requests ahead of mine, but I figured that maybe, just maybe, all of those people were tearing through them as quickly as I had torn through the first.

The day after that, neither list had gotten any smaller, and both books had been requested by at least four more people after me.

"Alright," I said, "this is why Amazon exists."

So I had the entire trilogy delivered to my mailbox for about $30.00.

Honestly, I'm still kind of in shock. It's been less than twenty-four hours since I finished the final book (which, like the first, I read cover to cover almost without stopping).

First off, I can't believe this series is marketed to children. I mean, okay, the main character is "only" sixteen years old, but the story is set in a post-apocalyptic world where twenty-four children -- twelve boys and twelve girls -- aged twelve to eighteen are selected at random to be thrown into an arena. Where they fight to the death. On TV. The goriest bits of the "Games" are mandatory viewing. Our hero volunteers -- not because she has any desire to be killed or any desire to kill, but to take the place of her younger sister, the one person in the whole world who she's sure that she loves.

In the arena, as I said, the kids kill each other. They snap each other's necks and throw spears into each other's stomachs and shoot each other with arrows.

Clearly, this is the sort of fare kids should be reading.

I don't know, though. I mean, I'm not saying NO kids anywhere should ever read any of the books -- I'm living proof of the fact that, when parents do forbid their kids to read a certain series, that just makes the kids want to read that certain series even more -- I'm just saying that they are aimed at middle-schoolers. The oldest of whom are two years younger than Katniss. Who is plagued by nightmares even before she enters the Games. Because Panem, which used to be North America, is a police state and things are THAT bad. (Note: Katniss is one of the most badass characters in the entire series, and she still has nightmares.)

I'm just saying, if you're thinking of giving the books to your son/daughter/grandson/granddaughter/niece/nephew/godchild for the holidays because you know for a fact that he or she likes books, you should REALLY do a little research before wrapping them (you might even want to read them yourself) and ask yourself if the kid in question can handle them.

(I was reminded a lot of Animorphs, actually -- which, interestingly, was also published by Scholastic -- although I have to say that The Hunger Games are even worse, since the war that the characters find themselves caught up in is not against aliens. It's chilling because it could actually happen.)

The names are quite fun. If you know a bit more about etymology and/or ancient Rome than I do, you'll no doubt be amused. For example, the Capitol slaves who can't talk because they've had their tongues ripped out? They're called "Avox."

There is a love triangle, because of course there's a love triangle (actually, now that I think of it, that might have something to do with why Scholastic chose to market the books as "children's" literature). Now, normally, love triangles piss me off by default -- my reaction is usually something along the lines of YOU STUPID BITCH YOU HAVE TWO HOT GUYS WHO ARE BOTH COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU CAN'T JUST SHUT UP AND PICK ONE?! UGH I HOPE YOU GET EATEN BY PANTHERS OR SOMETHING -- but this one was actually very intriguing. Also, it was resolved the way I hoped it would be.

Even though Josh Hutcherson (swoon) is playing Peeta, I'm not sure if I'll be seeing the movie. I mean, I'm sure it'll be amazing, but . . . the books really are so violent -- the second is worse than the first, and the third is worse than the second -- that there's no way the movie can possibly get any rating lighter than PG-13 purely for violence and disturbing images (and possibly even gore). Which, you know, is good because it means they're staying true to the source material, but my point is that, while I enjoyed the story and wanted to see it through to the end, I was simultaneously seriously disturbed (see above, re: children killing each other on national TV). And that was bad enough to read about, you know? I'm quite a fan of action and violence and girls with axes and all that, but . . . humans killing other humans? Yeah, that tends to make me a bit squeamish.

That said, I haven't been reading any interviews in-depth or anything, but even from the little that I have absorbed, it sounds like everyone involved in the movie is going to be amazing. Particularly Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss.

I won't go into too much detail because it's painful for me to talk about, but the books are set in a world where most people are starving and it's not uncommon to grow up and live and die without ever having enough food. So I kind of felt guilty about going to the grocery store.

There was one more point I wanted to make, but it escapes me now. Maybe it'll come to me in the middle of the night.

Magic Incantations

"Adrenaline kicks in when you're starving. That's what nobody understands. Except for being hungry and cold, most of the time I feel like I can do anything. It gives me superhuman powers of smell and hearing. I can see what people are thinking, stay two steps ahead of them. I do enough homework to stay off the radar. Every night I climb thousands of steps into the sky to make me so exhausted that when I fall into bed, I don't notice Cassie.
"Then suddenly it's morning and I leap on the hamster wheel and it starts all over again."
- Laurie Halse Anderson,
Wintergirls

NO. No no no no no! I was never this bad, but I came ever so close to beginning to get this bad. I got so good at not eating for days at a time, and weighing myself constantly, and feeling bad for wanting a veggie burger,* because Depression thinks I'm fat.

How did that even happen?

No, stupid question. Meaningless.

The important thing is that I have taught myself how to kick his ass, and I am strong enough to continue kicking his ass for the rest of my life (and maybe even teaching other people how to kick his ass -- 'cause he's a fuckface who'd kill us all if he could, slowly).

The important thing is that I, Ryan Timothy Bish, do not even recognize the person I used to be when he was in control. I am funny, I am brave, I am beautiful, I am intelligent, I am fucking fearless, I am insightful, I am the best big brother Cara or Abigail could ever hope for, I am the little brother Kiki chose as her own even though she already has one, I am confident, I am strong, I am so perceptive I can pretty much see the future, I am a stubbornly loyal friend, I am a total nerd and that is charming, I miss Dad but I'm not stuck in the past, I wish Mom acted like more of a friend but I'm not mad at her (okay . . . not constantly), I know what I want and I'm not afraid to let myself have it, I know what I want and I'm not afraid of not getting it, I read all the time, I pray even though I'm not sure who's listening and rather suspect I'm just talking to myself, I can't sing but that's not stopping me, I lost everything but I'm putting my life back together and it's the most personally enriching thing I've ever done, and he will never have any power over me ever again.

Because I won't give him any.

The power is ALL mine now, and literally anything is possible. Even if I don't actively try to make it happen, awesome stuff just can't stop happening to me.

Who knows what I'll do next?

P.S. Cassie is a ghost. If you want to know what happens to Lia (the narrator), I highly recommend picking up the book. But be careful. The author wrote it "because of the countless readers who wrote and talked to me about their struggles with eating disorders, cutting, and feeling lost." She did a supremely good job (although, um, OF COURSE SHE DID -- this is Laurie Halse Anderson we're talking about), so, even if reading a book about those subjects won't be a trigger for you, it is very . . . heavy. I've read it twice before; even though I know how everything is eventually going to play out, it is extremely difficult to read. Even more difficult than Speak. And that's saying something.

*Yes, I seriously have a "food journal" from November of 2009 where I regularly got mad at myself for wanting and then having a veggie burger. With soy cheese. I wish I were making this up as a really sick joke. But not so much.
I still have it, by the way. No one is allowed to read it, but I keep it to remind myself just how much Depression had encroached his way into every facet of my life -- and to remind myself of just how far I've come.