Entry tags:
013112 -- Swim Away, Little Fish, Swim Away!
I am still in love with my celery-hummus combination, and have now completely depleted one tin of tomatoes.
Today, I am going to start off my journal entry talking about how much I hate the S40 bus. I hate it. I hate it hate it hate it. It's this hatred that makes me want to move to Staten Island and get Navigator-Widget (my Yaris) back so I DON'T HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS TO WORK ANYMORE. No. Seriously. It's that bad.
Because the S40 bus sucks balls, I am left waiting for the bus and the ferry and everything else, and it is good to have something to do. On the weekends, it's Ringo as I work on Cosmic's first draft (which is coming along quite swimmingly; I'm 300 pages in). But I can't lug my poor Macbook everywhere; Ringo wouldn't want to be lugged anyway. That's where reading comes in.
I told myself that when I moved, I would not buy books unless I absolutely needed them. Manga broke that rule, as Book-Off is ridiculously cheap and it helps my Japanese -- but none of this YA stuff, right? WRONG. Across the Universe actually got recommended by a NYCNanoer named Jeremy on Twitter -- I knew the book, because I had seen it in Wal-Mart, but had resolved to go for it after it came out in paperback.
Well, the sequel's out, it came out in paperback, and after I figured out the print version was not any more expensive than the ebook, I got it at my 'local' Holy Land! Winning. (You'll remember, if you look back, that I touched on that shortly when I wrote my crying "I want to be a writer" rant a few weeks back.) Because it came so highly recommended, and because I knew about it, I had no trouble paying for it even though I'm cheap-ass broke. (Such is living in Manhattan.) I figured that if I didn't like the book, I could always donate it to a library or something.
I have the book still in my bag. That book isn't going anywhere soon. It'll probably be all bent out of shape in a while, because I am probably going to read and reread and mark in it and take out sticky notes and eff the entire thing up. And then go buy another copy. Maybe.
Needless to say that I loved it. I literally couldn't put it down. I was reading it on my lunch break, when the biggest part of the book (in my opinion) hit me. It was so much more eye-opening than I thought it could be. What I liked the best about the style was that it proved to me that alternating POVs could be done. I'd seen it done before in one of Sharon Creech's books, but never with a debut like this. To hear from both Amy and Elder was special -- and great timing, as well! It makes me confident as a writer to see this done when my own book has alternating POVs.
Although I have, like, seven narrators in my book, and we'll have to see how that shakes out. I think that's the only thing I have going against Cosmic right now. We'll just have to find someone who believes in me, nee?
But my favorite character in the book wasn't even Amy or Elder. It was Harley, the side character, Elder's 'best friend' in the book. They keep all the artistic kids cooped up in one building in the book, and Harley's always painting -- mostly koi fish. He's got paint in his hair and paint on his clothes and paint in his fingernails and God paint everywhere. He comes into the story a lot, helping Amy and Elder with their mystery (when he's not painting, of course).
I like the connection -- and I guess only I am able to make this connection -- between koi and koi. I don't know, I was thinking about it on the boat, but koi for the fish is identical in the English language to the short form of 'koibito,' which translates roughly to 'lover' in Japanese. The connection I made was less about an actual person and more about the 'koi' part, which represents the actual act of loving here. The 'ai' that so many people know of is a romantic love, but 'koi' translates to a passionate love. 'Ai' means "I love you." 'Koi' means "I'm in love with you."
And I think it accurately describes how obsessed Harley could get in his world. It reminded me of being knee-deep in synesthetic color, completely swamped out, knowing exactly which color I was going to use next to compose a piece. It's a passion, a 'koi' type of feeling. A place to go and drown yourself in, to live when life is not worth living the way it was. Painting was an escape for Harley -- or at least it became an escape after his girlfriend died (not a spoiler, she's dead at the beginning). It's that passion, that fire, that losing yourself in your art feeling that keeps him going, knowing that no matter how much he gets lost, there's an end goal -- the landing of the ship. (Yes, it all turns decidedly Emily-ish at the end. My readers know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. It's spoiler material.)
It was somewhere on the boat home that I realized that Beth, as an author, reminds me a whole lot of Brian. They're both people who love(d) writing, but most important, they're storytellers. Brian worked several bum jobs doing this and that and everything and just enjoying life and then became an author. Beth taught school for years, never giving up on her dream (but I'm sure feeling lots of doubt). Neither one of them had everything figured out at the beginning, and I think that's how life is supposed to be.
In addition, I think Harley reminds me a lot of Felldoh, my favorite of Brian's characters. Both feel an intense passion for something, but both also long desperately for freedom, and both find it in the same way. The way I think about Harley is similar to the way I thought about Felldoh as a kid, and it was in that moment, reading Martin the Warrior in sixth grade class, that I knew that this novel thing was special, and I wanted to be a part of it.
I want to hug Harley. Drag out my crayons and color with him. Even sing to him, let him know it's all right to feel anger and hatred and pain. That feeling in his eyes, in between flying and, well...that little bit of pain he felt, that reminded me of the little bit of fear I felt, the only bit of hesitance I felt when thinking about moving to New York.
But flying is so worth it.
Swim away, little koi fish. And while you're at it, can I come join you? We'll go paint in the stars.
Beth, if you are reading this, it's true that your characters are not your own. Thank you. Thank you so much.
Oh, and by the way, I'm not done with this. (runs off to get the 530)
Today, I am going to start off my journal entry talking about how much I hate the S40 bus. I hate it. I hate it hate it hate it. It's this hatred that makes me want to move to Staten Island and get Navigator-Widget (my Yaris) back so I DON'T HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS TO WORK ANYMORE. No. Seriously. It's that bad.
Because the S40 bus sucks balls, I am left waiting for the bus and the ferry and everything else, and it is good to have something to do. On the weekends, it's Ringo as I work on Cosmic's first draft (which is coming along quite swimmingly; I'm 300 pages in). But I can't lug my poor Macbook everywhere; Ringo wouldn't want to be lugged anyway. That's where reading comes in.
I told myself that when I moved, I would not buy books unless I absolutely needed them. Manga broke that rule, as Book-Off is ridiculously cheap and it helps my Japanese -- but none of this YA stuff, right? WRONG. Across the Universe actually got recommended by a NYCNanoer named Jeremy on Twitter -- I knew the book, because I had seen it in Wal-Mart, but had resolved to go for it after it came out in paperback.
Well, the sequel's out, it came out in paperback, and after I figured out the print version was not any more expensive than the ebook, I got it at my 'local' Holy Land! Winning. (You'll remember, if you look back, that I touched on that shortly when I wrote my crying "I want to be a writer" rant a few weeks back.) Because it came so highly recommended, and because I knew about it, I had no trouble paying for it even though I'm cheap-ass broke. (Such is living in Manhattan.) I figured that if I didn't like the book, I could always donate it to a library or something.
I have the book still in my bag. That book isn't going anywhere soon. It'll probably be all bent out of shape in a while, because I am probably going to read and reread and mark in it and take out sticky notes and eff the entire thing up. And then go buy another copy. Maybe.
Needless to say that I loved it. I literally couldn't put it down. I was reading it on my lunch break, when the biggest part of the book (in my opinion) hit me. It was so much more eye-opening than I thought it could be. What I liked the best about the style was that it proved to me that alternating POVs could be done. I'd seen it done before in one of Sharon Creech's books, but never with a debut like this. To hear from both Amy and Elder was special -- and great timing, as well! It makes me confident as a writer to see this done when my own book has alternating POVs.
Although I have, like, seven narrators in my book, and we'll have to see how that shakes out. I think that's the only thing I have going against Cosmic right now. We'll just have to find someone who believes in me, nee?
But my favorite character in the book wasn't even Amy or Elder. It was Harley, the side character, Elder's 'best friend' in the book. They keep all the artistic kids cooped up in one building in the book, and Harley's always painting -- mostly koi fish. He's got paint in his hair and paint on his clothes and paint in his fingernails and God paint everywhere. He comes into the story a lot, helping Amy and Elder with their mystery (when he's not painting, of course).
I like the connection -- and I guess only I am able to make this connection -- between koi and koi. I don't know, I was thinking about it on the boat, but koi for the fish is identical in the English language to the short form of 'koibito,' which translates roughly to 'lover' in Japanese. The connection I made was less about an actual person and more about the 'koi' part, which represents the actual act of loving here. The 'ai' that so many people know of is a romantic love, but 'koi' translates to a passionate love. 'Ai' means "I love you." 'Koi' means "I'm in love with you."
And I think it accurately describes how obsessed Harley could get in his world. It reminded me of being knee-deep in synesthetic color, completely swamped out, knowing exactly which color I was going to use next to compose a piece. It's a passion, a 'koi' type of feeling. A place to go and drown yourself in, to live when life is not worth living the way it was. Painting was an escape for Harley -- or at least it became an escape after his girlfriend died (not a spoiler, she's dead at the beginning). It's that passion, that fire, that losing yourself in your art feeling that keeps him going, knowing that no matter how much he gets lost, there's an end goal -- the landing of the ship. (Yes, it all turns decidedly Emily-ish at the end. My readers know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. It's spoiler material.)
It was somewhere on the boat home that I realized that Beth, as an author, reminds me a whole lot of Brian. They're both people who love(d) writing, but most important, they're storytellers. Brian worked several bum jobs doing this and that and everything and just enjoying life and then became an author. Beth taught school for years, never giving up on her dream (but I'm sure feeling lots of doubt). Neither one of them had everything figured out at the beginning, and I think that's how life is supposed to be.
In addition, I think Harley reminds me a lot of Felldoh, my favorite of Brian's characters. Both feel an intense passion for something, but both also long desperately for freedom, and both find it in the same way. The way I think about Harley is similar to the way I thought about Felldoh as a kid, and it was in that moment, reading Martin the Warrior in sixth grade class, that I knew that this novel thing was special, and I wanted to be a part of it.
I want to hug Harley. Drag out my crayons and color with him. Even sing to him, let him know it's all right to feel anger and hatred and pain. That feeling in his eyes, in between flying and, well...that little bit of pain he felt, that reminded me of the little bit of fear I felt, the only bit of hesitance I felt when thinking about moving to New York.
But flying is so worth it.
Swim away, little koi fish. And while you're at it, can I come join you? We'll go paint in the stars.
Beth, if you are reading this, it's true that your characters are not your own. Thank you. Thank you so much.
Oh, and by the way, I'm not done with this. (runs off to get the 530)
