tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89159252008252993882024-02-19T08:05:42.016-08:00The Enthusiastic CynicistPiecing together all the little nuances and flaws I find in everyday life. How very fun. Books and Films are my forte, TV is my love.Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-49139169778447303752012-10-27T07:09:00.000-07:002012-10-27T07:09:04.723-07:00In which I discover something. And not just Gifs.<br />
Well, hello.<br />
I didn't see you there.<br />
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For some reason, and thought process of which still eludes me, I had the urge to check this after neglecting it into obscurity.<br />
And what do you know?<br />
I have FOLLOWERS!<br />
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So to thank you, you lovely newbies, I've decided to get off my lazy ass and ramble and rant, maybe even with some semblance of coherency. </div>
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Shock and/or Horror. </div>
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In the mean time, I'll be back, trying not to disappoint, with my particlaur brand of self-deprecation and loathing. </div>
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Doesn't that sound fun?</div>
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And, if you have any suggestion of what you want me to rant and rave about just comment below and we can get this party from wall-flower status to full on party!</div>
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Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-79379953839023372922012-02-19T07:44:00.000-08:002012-02-19T07:44:48.539-08:00Last night I dreamed that somebody loved me.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Approproately enough: The Smiths</div>
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So for the first time, in a long time, I woke up believing what I had dreamed was real. </div>
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The disappointment I felt was more than momentary, but in a way I was glad. </div>
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It started at the end. The boy who had loved me, and whom I loved back at one stage or another, had died, and I was contacted by his tearful sister, incoherent over the dream phone. </div>
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And then I went back, a memory within a dream, and saw how it all happened. </div>
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And it seemed so real, so honest, so lovely. </div>
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Except for the break-dancing. That was just odd. </div>
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It was like a backwards romance novel, and something changed. </div>
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Full disclosure: I've never been in love. </div>
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But maybe I'm becoming more open to it. </div>
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It turns out, I believe in love. </div>
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That's a Sunday revelation for you.</div>
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Maybe I'm not as dead inside as I say I am. </div>
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Plus, he was pretty smoking hot, even by my dream standards. </div>
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Laters</div>
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<br />Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-70146323020822293482012-01-15T06:35:00.000-08:002012-01-15T06:35:26.338-08:00The Bane of my (fictional) Existence.So, once again, I'm reading.<br />
I know, shock and or horror. Take your pick.<br />
But I've come to a conclusion, in regard to reading.<br />
<br />
I HATE ANGELS!<br />
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Oh yes, of course, they <i>look</i> pretty, but it's kind of like Megan Fox. Looks good, but there's not much going on underneath.<br />
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I know, harsh.<br />
But I hate them that much.<br />
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I have yet to enjoy a book featuring them.<br />
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I'm currently reading this ^^<br />
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And the writing is beautiful. The world is eerie. The subject is original and the monsters are terrifying...<br />
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And then comes the freaking <i>angels. </i><br />
And I blanch!<br />
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So I plea with the literary Magisters (publishers, editors etc.)<br />
NO MORE ANGELS!<br />
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Or at least, make sure they're not so derivative.<br />
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And before you get smart and say "But The Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices; they're books about angels. And you love <i>them</i>. Ergo, you LIE!"<br />
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TMI and ID are about Demon hunting, fighting and awesome characters. They just mention angels and have only featured one angel so far.<br />
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Don't try to be smart.<br />
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I just had to vent.<br />
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More demon hunting, less angel romances...<br />
Pretty please?<br />
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<br />Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-76161092242288889512012-01-04T11:47:00.000-08:002012-01-04T11:48:07.371-08:00Abandon chapter 1...EEP!<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Okay, I'm either brave or possessed. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But I've decided to post a chapter from my WIP. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">I would love some constructive criticism, or any comments on it at all. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Thanks. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Here we go...*bites nails*</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Another day, another flying plate.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Mom!” Darcy screamed, ducking as a cup followed the
plate. Thankfully it just bounced off the wall, the corner chipping, but was
otherwise salvageable. She stooped over, grasped the broken plate pieces in her
hands and ignored the old wounds that re-opened and fresh ones making their
debut. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Mae
Hallow was having another one of her episodes. They had taken up a significant
part of Darcy’s childhood, and she remembered that they got progressively worse
after her Dad died and her sister had been taken for service two years ago. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>The past two years of her life had been hell, but it
was her life. And you deal with the hands you’re dealt, she told herself. You
don’t complain. You just try to make the best of a bad situation and pull the
best poker face possible so no one can tell if you’re aching inside. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Mae
collapsed in a heap on the kitchen floor, murmuring to herself as she rocked
back and forth. Darcy found a rag and hid the broken pieces, making the whole
nasty situation disappear, and steadied herself against the counter. Slick
blood seeped between her fingers. She took a deep breath, clenched her fist and
grabbed another cloth to staunch the wounds before comforting her mother. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Everybody leaves. Everybody. Everybody leaves...”
Mae rocked back and forth, back and forth, eyes wide and glistening. Darcy
stooped over, swept the matted hair from her mother’s eyes and rested a
comforting hand on Mae’s shoulder, only to feel her tense against the touch. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“It’s going to be okay, Mom. Everything will be
okay.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Nothing’s okay,” she cried, “Derek, Raina....gone.
Gone forever. I have nothing left, nothing.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What
about me? </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Darcy thought, feeling tears scorch and well in her
eyes. Am I nothing? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I have nothing but you.” Mae grabbed Darcy’s arm
with a bruising force, refusing to let go. “Don’t ever leave me.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Mom...” Darcy grew uncomfortable.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Please don’t go.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I’m not going anywhere.” Darcy continued stroking
the hair on her mother’s crown and wondering when their roles had been reversed,
then realised they always had been. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“But,” Mae’s bottom lip trembled with emotion. “If
you have to go...”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I’m not going anywhere--”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Don’t forget to say goodbye. No one ever says
goodbye.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Darcy paused, but nodded her assent, watching her
mother crane her neck, eyes pleading for an answer.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I promise.” Darcy patted her mother’s hand, reached
down and gripped her beneath the armpit to pick her up. Mae stumbled forward as
Darcy helped her out of the cramped kitchen and into her bedroom, before
tucking her under the sheets, closing the curtains and shutting the door behind
her. Darcy leaned against the hard wood, and blinked the last few tears away.
If she cried every time this happened, she would dissolve in a sea of salt.
Pragmatism was the name of the game. The key to survival. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>The kitchen needed a good clean and her homework lay
untouched and abandoned in her bag, just like every other night. But if she
neglected it one more time...well, the repercussions would be dire. Especially
where Ms. Buchanan was concerned. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Ten
minutes later, the kettle screeched and Darcy poured herself a well deserved
cup of coffee after searching every last corner for shards of broken porcelain.
Mae and Darcy had a habit of walking around the house in their feet, and after
the twentieth time she sliced her foot open, she realised a thorough clean was
desperately needed. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> The
phone rang as Darcy dumped her bag on the table, rummaging around in its depths.
Thanking the distraction, she ran to the phone. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Hello?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Silence. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Dense, thunderous silence. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Hello?” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Get ready.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Darcy
froze “Raina?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Dial tone. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> It
couldn’t be Raina, she decided. Just her own wishful thinking. Raina was in
service for another year. There was no contact with family during service. It
made it that much harder when the delegates died. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Darcy
put the phone back on its hanger and tried to stop herself trembling. She had
that eerie feeling that something was wrong, but tried to ignore it. Even
though she generally trusted her gut and this time it wouldn’t stop turning. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>When her dinner made an unwelcome appearance on the
kitchen floor, she decided it was time for a run. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> After
cleaning up, she raced out the door. The sun was setting, and the greenish
tinge fell across Lexington Avenue. After
the first three nuclear explosions, radiation seeped into the atmosphere and
left an odd green glow across the skyline. The streets were almost deserted, as
per usual, since the habitants’ feared contamination; even if the Alliance had
assured them it was benign. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Darcy
scoffed and began pounding the pavement. But she didn’t care about the
radiation. It was an everyday part of her life; like breathing. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Well, like breathing toxins, but breathing
nonetheless. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Darcy
turned the corner and beat down the street to the hum of the streetlights and
passing cars. But when she heard a sniffling, sobbing sound coming from the
alley up ahead, she slowed. It was Conrad Reeler. He was on her cross-country
team at Second school. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Conrad?” He jerked up, rubbing his eyes and
flushed. Darcy kept the beat of the street on her toes while Conrad wiped his
eyes dry and his skin raw. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Hey, Darcy. Practicing?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I just needed a distraction,” she shrugged, edging
closer to him. Conrad tensed, and pulled himself straight. “Are you--?” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Okay?” He scoffed. “Of course I’m not okay. My
little brother is being sent to die, and I’m just meant to sit back and take
it? No, I’m very much not okay.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Darcy stopped
moving and planted her feet. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Oh,” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I was asking whether you were coming. I think you
need a distraction too.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Conrad paused, wiped his face clean and jerked his
hands through his heavily-mussed hair.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yeah, I think maybe I do.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Conrad
and Darcy shuffled down the street, towards the usually abandoned park. At
least there they could talk. At least there they wouldn’t have to act happy. At
least there they could be free. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“So, you want to talk?“ Darcy said, sitting on the rusty
swing at the far side of the rusted fence. Acid rain does nothing for steel.
“Talk.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Conrad
pulled a hand through his hair, one of his most common ticks, and stood
opposite her, between the roundabout and the see-saw. Darcy waited for him to
gather his thoughts, which seemed like an endless struggle from the expression
on his face.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Why are you doing this, Darcy?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Because, believe it or not, I know what you’re
going through. You aren’t the only one to lose someone.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“But Raina was older than you.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“It doesn’t make it hurt any less. Age is just a
number. Family is a lifetime. And it’s hard not to be affected by that.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Conrad’s
shoulders slumped. “I guess you’re right. It just doesn’t seem...right? He’s
only thirteen.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Aren’t they all?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“But he’s so small. And he has asthma. I see him
coming home from training with bruises and he doesn’t even whimper, doesn’t
even flinch. Every broken bone, every wound and scar—they’re like a badge of honour.”
Conrad shuffles his feet through the gravel, growing angrier with every swipe,
letting it all out. If the ground was a
person, they would have been unconscious and bleeding by now, Darcy
thought, but let him continue. Everyone needs to vent sometimes, and Conrad had
a damn good reason.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“It’s just not fair.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I know.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“But it’s life.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“But it’s life.” Darcy agreed, and the heavy
gauntlet of truth bore down on them. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“The funny thing is,” Conrad laughed, the humour
long gone and replaced with anger. “Twenty years ago? He would be safe and
sound at home, probably bugging me for a game of basketball. God, if that’s all
it took to keep him here, I’d play basketball till my hands fell off.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I know the feeling.” Darcy hung her head, but then
snapped it up. “Wait, what?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yeah,” Conrad smirked “they introduced a new law about
twenty years ago, declaring each family were only allowed to have three
children. Any more were supplementary.
If the number went above three, the cycle would begin again, and the fourth
child would then be the first born. And it is the duty of the first-born to protect and serve. Till death do us
part.” There was no humour in his laugh and he slumped over the roundabout,
grabbing its rusted steel bars between his hands. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I never knew that.” Darcy let Conrad vent, knowing
from personal experience that someone trying to comfort you was the most
irritating thing in the world. Conrad was like her. When you’re about to lose a
sibling, you just want to be left alone. But the fact that she understood, even
if she said nothing, did nothing, but stayed there, would be enough to make him
realise he wasn’t alone. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>When the person closest to you is taken, that’s the
one thing you never want to feel.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Alone. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“That’s the beauty of being kid number three,”
Conrad turned his head and half-smiled. “You’re well versed in legalese.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Whereas us second borns are destined for a life of
servitude.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Conrad
quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t most of you guys end up teaching?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Exactly.” Darcy smirked as Conrad laughed. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Conrad
pushed himself off the roundabout, turned and made his way to the swings
sitting next to Darcy. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Damn these things are small.” He said, wriggling
between the bars. Darcy laughed, pushing herself back and forth, gaining
momentum. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“They aren’t built for your average sixteen year
old, Conrad.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Seventeen.” Darcy slowed down and smiled at him. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Really?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yeah, it was my birthday last week.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Well then, happy birthday.” She said, leaning over
and softly, sweetly, swiftly kissing him on the lips. Conrad’s green eyes
flashed. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Well, that was unexpected.” He laughed, beginning
to propel himself back and forth, just as Darcy had begun to do again.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Well, it was that, or buy you an actual present.
And since shaking me for change would be a silent affair, I thought it was the
better option.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Well, as long as it makes you feel better.” He
laughed. “Just don’t let Lorie find out.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Damn,
Lorie,</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Darcy instantly winced at the thought of Conrad’s
girlfriend finding out about her kissing him. Even if it was purely innocent,
Lorie was a champion kick-boxer, and strangely possessive of her boyfriend.
Darcy shuddered. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Let’s keep that our little secret, then?” Darcy
propelled herself back and let the swing carry her back forth. All of the fun,
none of the work. Bliss.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> They
stayed like that for another two hours, swinging back and forth, letting the
weight of the world slip off each of their shoulders, if only for a moment. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“So how are you feeling?” Darcy asked eventually. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Better. Worse. Both.” He sighed and jumped of the
swing, landing in a crouch five feet away while his swing swung aimlessly,
lonely after him. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yeah. Both.” She agreed. Darcy paused and watched
the sun completely set and nightfall come. She sighed. “I better go.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Darcy...?” Conrad called as she pushed open the
rusty gate at the back of the park, deciding on taking the long way home.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Yeah?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“How did you know?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Know what?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“Not to ask if I was okay? Any other person would
have.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I’m not any other person,” she half-smiled.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>“I know,” Conrad smiled. Darcy paused, and shook it
off, but couldn’t help but get a niggling feeling in the nape of her neck. She
kept staring at him. Conrad, with his messy blonde hair, kind, but currently
bloodshot green-eyes and the smile that seemed to echo in her mind... <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Conrad cleared his throat and Darcy internally
kicked herself. “So how did you know?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i> Darcy
stopped, lowered her lashes and answered honestly. “Because, it’s been two
years, and I’m still not okay.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-56416190289867769792012-01-04T06:30:00.000-08:002012-01-04T07:10:41.376-08:00Hushed by Kelley York<a href="http://fivealarmbookreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Hushed.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 475px;" src="http://fivealarmbookreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Hushed.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Thanks to Entangled Publishing for the Advanced Reader copy.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Summary:</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: rgb(24, 24, 24); background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; ">He’s saved her. He’s loved her. He’s killed for her.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></i><i><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 115%; color: rgb(24, 24, 24); "><br /><br /><span style="background:white">Eighteen-year-old Archer couldn’t protect his best friend, Vivian, from what happened when they were kids, so he’s never stopped trying to protect her from everything else. It doesn’t matter that Vivian only uses him when hopping from one toxic relationship to another—Archer is always there, waiting to be noticed.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br /><br /><span style="background:white">Then along comes Evan, the only person who’s ever cared about Archer without a single string attached. The harder he falls for Evan, the more Archer sees Vivian for the manipulative hot-mess she really is.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br /><br /><span style="background:white">But Viv has her hooks in deep, and when she finds out about the murders Archer’s committed and his relationship with Evan, she threatens to turn him in if she doesn’t get what she wants… And what she wants is Evan’s death, and for Archer to forfeit his last chance at redemption.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been racking my brains trying to come up with a coherent review for this book since I finished it last week. It had taken me this long to get my thoughts together, and even then all I can say is <i>Wow!<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is not your typical love story. Or a typical novel in any sense of the word. It’s full of murder, intrigue, lust and love...and that’s not even the best part. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">No, the best part, Ladies and Gentleman, are the characters. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m a fan of broken characters. I just adore them, there is so much to delve through, and even when they’re at their lowest ebb, you still root for them, even if you don’t condone their actions. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Archer is a serial killer. As simple as that. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Except that it’s not. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> You can sympathise with Archer, you feel his pain and as you learn more about his childhood and his motivations, you begin to realise how he can justify such drastic actions, and understand his cause. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This book is extremely clever. Kelley York is a phenomenal writer, as even when you’re engrossed in the story, hurriedly flipping page after page to find out what will happen next, you also start to think. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">What struck me is how far people are willing to go to protect the one they love, and what they are capable of doing, without hesitation. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But Archer is not like <i>Dexter </i>(although comparisons can be made. A vigilante who punishes the evil? C'mon you know that's going to be interesting. He’s like a teen Dexter, but relatable). Archer feels. He does not enjoy what he does, but sees it as a necessity. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which brings me on to Vivian. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> Like I’ve already said, each character in this book is broken. Even Evan, who we see a notable change in as the book moves on, doing things he does not believe in for the man he loves. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">They’re so adorable, by the way. Just thought I’d throw that in there as a nice little side note. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But Vivian is a great character. Vivian is chaotic, and wild, like a lightning storm. She destroys things, she is capable of irrevocable damage, but she is beautiful. On the outside. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Another lesson: Never trust a pretty girl with an ugly secret. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But you can still understand her....These characters are so intricate, it’s amazing </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But Vivian is chaos to Archer, who is himself filled with chaos. He needs stability, which Evan provides. Evan is the calm to Archer’s chaos, and they just...fit. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I got so caught up in her tale, as well as that of our two broken boys, that I was finished the book before I knew it and was yearning for more. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you think this book isn’t for you because two boys fall in love...all I can say is Love is love. And Archer and Evan are so sweet to one another that you can’t help but fall in love with them. I would hold off any and all reservations you have about this book, from plot to characterisation, because it’s fantastic in every way shape and form. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; color:#181818;background:white">Kelley York is a phenomenal writer, and although the subject matter is quite dark, I urge everyone who loves a good romance and intrigue novel, and loves broken and well-developed characters to give this book a read.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;color:#181818"><br /><span style="background:white">The ending still has me in shock. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; color:#181818;background:white">And, if you know me, that’s not easily done. </span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;color:#181818"><br /><span style="background:white">What a twist!</span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m looking forward to Kelley York’s next book. It’s sure to have as many beautiful similes and characters as this wonderful debut. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I highly recommend it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">5/5</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-31600148163738598572012-01-02T11:02:00.000-08:002012-01-02T11:10:03.520-08:00No Kiss Blogfest: part 2: My WIP<span>Okay, here's a little something from my WIP, <i>Abandon.</i> </span><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>To put this in context, long story short, is the story of teens being sent to one of four cities to battle the mutants that live their before they reach the rest of the population. Darcy Hallow's sister was one of the delegates on duty, but when she went missing, Darcy was recruited. There she met Dexter Daniels. He knew Raina, Darcy's sister, while she was in service.</span></div><div><span > Let's just say, they had a thing. </span><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >Context given, here's a little something I threw together. </span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >Please comment. Tell me how to improve, if you like it, if you didn't, anything. </span></div></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >And here we go!</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span >The night breathed with blood and venom. Darcy and Dexter scrambled from the ground, collecting glass, blood and grazes, and searched for shelter. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“Move it!” Dexter yelled, glancing left and right looking for somewhere to hide as the sound of scratching grew louder, the claws tearing the ground apart. Dexter kept his hand glued to his sword, like Darcy did hers. Her nose twitched and face contorted once they paused to catch their breath. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“What’s wrong?” he watched Darcy as she doubled over panting. “Leg,” she breathed. A shard of glass had lodged itself in her thigh, and the pain was beginning to get to her.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > Dexter cursed. “Here,” he looped Darcy’s arm around his shoulders, but as she protested, he hissed, swept her legs from underneath her, and cradled her in his arms as he ran. The sound of scratching grew louder. Other delegates raced into alleys and houses, hiding from the rats, which were approximately the size of a small car, and vicious to boot.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“Over there,” Darcy elbowed Dexter in the rib softly with her right arm, inclining her head toward the closest house. “We can patch up, get ready and run.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >He looked unsure, but they didn’t have much choice, so darting a quick glance over his shoulder to see if they were being followed by a rat or delegate. Either way, it wouldn’t be good. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > Dexter padded over, dropped Darcy gently on the ground, and propped open the door with his left shoulder. After three failed attempts, and an obligatory mental scolding, Darcy finally got up and limped through the door. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“Here,” Dexter took her arm again, acting as her walking aid, but the pain and the closeness made her uncomfortable. “I’m fine.” She said, followed by three steps and a re-acquaintance with the floor.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >The house was pretty empty, but it being Riverside, each building had a first aid kit attached to the wall and some supplies. Just in case. Dexter grabbed the box, came back and fell to the floor on his knees. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“You’re not fine.” He said simply, looking for some cloth, and not seeing any. A second later, he whipped his shirt off, placed it between his teeth and ripped some strips free. They were uneven and broken, but Dexter looped two strands together, tied them tightly and rolled up her trousers. He didn’t wince, didn’t say a thing, but the look in his eyes said that it wasn’t good. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“I’m gonna pull it out on three, okay?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“Okay.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >Darcy drew a breath and Dexter said “three.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > It was like an electric pulse racked through her body. She didn’t scream, but damn, did she feel like it. Darcy stuffed her fist in her mouth, and Dexter tied his make-shift tourniquet tighter.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“There,” he said. “the bleeding’s stopped.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“Good.” She breathed; learning to control her pain like Jack had taught her. Training was nothing like the real thing. In the centre, you get shot with an arrow, you heal. In Riverside, you get shot, you bleed. Or you die. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >Not great options all round.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > Darcy met Dexter’s eyes. “Thank you.” She murmured, but she trailed off as the spark of something ignited in his eyes. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“You okay?” he asked. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“I’ll live.” She tried to sit up, but that flare of pain stopped her. Dexter arched an eyebrow, and, hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure what he was doing himself, leaned down and kissed her wounded leg. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > It was like ice had formed in her veins. Unmoving, she asked “What are you doing?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt"><span >Dexter leaned close into her ear, his words caressing her skin and making her tingle “I’m kissing it better.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt"><span >With that, he stooped down and kissed just a little bit higher than he had before, right in the centre of her thigh. Darcy felt herself begin to tingle, as his trail of kisses flowed up from her thigh to her outstretched hand. His eyes flickered up as he kissed her knuckles languorously before moving to the crook of her elbow, lingering ever so slightly more. The heat of her skin and his kisses was spurring them both on. Darcy’s breath hitched, and she heard Dexter laugh while he pressed his soft, searing lips against her bare shoulder, finally resting in the hallow of her neck. He must have been able to feel her pulse, hear her heart beat stutter. The room was filled with echoes, the sound of her panting reverberating in her ears. When Dexter’s tongue flicked out against her neck, she lost it. Thrusting into his form and pulling him fully on top of her, Darcy felt his breath hitch in his chest and saw the a smile grow on his usually stone-cold serious face. Before he knew what was happening, she flipped the position and was staring down at Dexter’s burning brown eyes, his slight scar from temple to cheek, his waiting, wanting lips...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >And the chain around his neck. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >The chain with her sister’s favourite ring looped around it. Darcy froze, her heart beating harder than ever and shame spiralling in her stomach. The loss of blood had made her nauseas, but that made her sick. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >“We better go.” She said </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span > The light in his eyes quenched like a match in a rain-storm. Darcy helped herself up, offered Dexter a hand, which he refused to take. He went to the closest supply closet, grabbed a shirt and said “I’m ready when you are.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span >Darcy looked around, saw the coast was clear and they made their way back to headquarters.</span></p></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A little bit hotter than my last, I hope! :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Hope you liked it.</div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-47613575846411053452012-01-02T07:44:00.000-08:002012-01-02T12:31:18.531-08:00No Kiss Blogfest! Happy January 2nd!<div><br /></div><div><div>Okay, so I decided to take part in this. Seems like a lot of fun, plus I need the practice. As you'll see by the following.<div><br /></div><div>This is an almost kiss:</div></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://gossipgirlxoxo11.webs.com/photos/Chuck%20and%20Blair/gg_chuck-and-blair%20kiss%20limo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1280px; height: 720px;" src="http://gossipgirlxoxo11.webs.com/photos/Chuck%20and%20Blair/gg_chuck-and-blair%20kiss%20limo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://gossipgirlxoxo11.webs.com/photos/Chuck%20and%20Blair/gg_chuck-and-blair%20kiss%20limo.jpg"><span ><br /></span></a></div><div>Hot, right?</div><div><br /></div><div>Plus, Chuck Bass? YUM! I couldn't resist.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div>This is my one-shot.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm calling it <span><b>Impulse.</b></span></div><div><span><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span>Hope you like it. Let me know either way. I need to improve. Plus, check out the other entries! :)</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span>So, when you catch your boyfriend mounting another girl at a party, three things come to mind. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>One: You want to punch him squarely in the jaw, and keep going until you hear a crack. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Two: You want to break down and cry.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Three: You want to scream bloody murder until everyone sees what a lying scumbag he is. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>I chose the secret fourth option. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Abby,” he bounced from the bed like it was a trampoline, adjusted his zip and fixed his hair. Marcy just sat where she was, didn’t meet my eyes, and fiddled with her t-shirt. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“We’re done.” It was simple, short and succinct. I closed the door behind me, took the stairs two at a time and wanted to get the hell out of there so I could start with option two. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> The night had a crisp, bitter feel to it; cutting my skin like tiny needles of ice as I raced down the road, trying not to slip on the slick patches of path. I didn’t care why he had done it—I didn’t even care who he had done it with—but the fact that he had dared to think he could get away with it? </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>That bugged me. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> Tears were threatening to escape from their prison, and I held them in like cold steel bars, picking up my pace. But when I realised it was 2.30 in the morning, I was alone and in a bad area of town, I started to think that maybe I hadn’t been that smart after all. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Abby!” I whipped my head around and found Max, Marcy’s older brother, chasing me down the street, before he lost his footing on the glistening gravel. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Max!” I ran to him, but he was already picked himself up and stuffed his hands into his pockets, embarrassed. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Why’d you leave?” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Did I really want to tell him that his little sister, and my one-time best friend, was testing the springs in his new bed? </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Not really. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“I had to get out of there, and I want to be alone. Mind making both of those dreams come true?” I snapped. If I cried in front of him, I’d never hear the end of it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> Max jerked a hand through his hair and seemed to be arguing with himself. Finally he settled on “It’s late. I’ll drive you home.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Apparently he wasn’t catching the hint.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“I’ll walk, thanks.” Before he knew what was happening, I feigned right and darted into a nearby alley, hoping to loop around to the better lit side of the street. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Abby! You can’t...” I was faster than Max. And he knew it, but when I came to a dead end, I heard him finish lamely “go that way.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> Growing more frustrated by the minute, from my anger, my resentment and the fact that I was freezing my follicles off, I stopped, jogged in place and started to clench my jaw. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“What happened?” Max said once he’d reached me. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted him to leave me alone. So I hit him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Again. And again, and again, until my knuckles were sore, his t-shirt was rumpled and he pulled me into his strong arms. Everything just dissolved from there and a salty-sea fell from my eyes and onto his white shirt. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“It’s okay,” he said, hushing into my hair, his breath warming what I thought would be forever frozen. I looked up at him, his messy blonde hair, his earnest green eyes and that crooked smile he always had for me...and I just jumped on him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> My legs wrapped around his waist, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around me. His right hand rested on the small of my back, while his left trailed a lightning storm up my spine, before resting on the nape of my neck, burning me beautifully. I leaned my forehead against his and felt his chest rise and fall against mine. His hand was in my hair, mine were around his neck, and we just kind of....fit. I tilted my head to the right and so did he, inches apart, centimetres, millimetres...I could feel his breath mingling with mine, the scent of peppermint and chocolate catching in my throat...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>And then he cocked his head further right and sweetly swept up a solitary tear with his lips, before trailing its path with his thumb, his eyes lingering on mine, and setting me back down to earth softly. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“I’ll walk you back.” He said. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Twice I had been stunned tonight, and when he held out his hand for me to take, I did. It felt warm and secure. But I pulled it away in anger, two seconds later. I was sick of being out of the loop. I wanted answers.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Why did you stop?!” I yelled. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Because,” he said simple, not rising to my anger, not stooping to my level. “I don’t want <i>this </i>to be revenge. I saw Marcy and Luke come downstairs after you left. I know what happened. But I don’t want to take advantage of you, because I want this, <i>us, </i>to be something memorable. I want it to be a Hollywood moment.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> Stunned, I couldn’t help but stare at Max. “But...you’re Max?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Didn’t stop you before, did it?” he smirked. He held out his hand, and this time I took it without letting go while he guided me to back to his house and car. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“How do I look?” I asked, self consciously smoothing down my hair. Max laughed. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“You look like a mess.” As I made an indignant sound, he continued “but a beautiful one.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> Birds tweeted, music blared, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears and felt the heat rising up my neck. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“Now,” he opened the passenger door and gestured for me to sit in. I stopped at the door, kissed him on the cheek and thanked him. He smiled. “What are you doing tomorrow?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>Nothing, I told him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span>“How about coffee?”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>Yup, That's it! :)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>I may put something up from my WIP. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>Hopefully it's a lot hotter! </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>Peace, love and Lollipops!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p></div></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-49429451251477335372012-01-01T15:39:00.000-08:002012-01-01T15:44:44.323-08:003rd Annual No Kiss Blogfest!Over at <a href="http://frankiediane.blogspot.com/2011/12/3rd-annual-no-kiss-blogfest.html">http://frankiediane.blogspot.com/2011/12/3rd-annual-no-kiss-blogfest.html</a><div><br /></div><div>I heard about the No Kiss Blog fest. </div><div><br /></div><div>Seemed Like fun, so I'm taking part. </div><div><br /></div><div>For the craic, like.</div><div><br /></div><div>Besides, isn't the best part of any kiss scene the build up itself? The total yearning the audience/reader feels, empathising with the characters.....</div><div><br /></div><div>and then it all gets thrown away in one fantastically awful moment. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>For a perfect example, watch Season 2, episode 1 of Sherlock. </div><div><br /></div><div>The last Quarter. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>GOOD GOD!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>On a side note, I want to have Benedict Cumberbatch's children and would be on Sherlock Holmes in half a second's heartbeat. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That is all. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now to be a stinker and think of scenarios for make-out sessions that never happen! </div><div><br /></div><div>WOO.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-39618289188751646552011-08-24T11:09:00.000-07:002011-08-24T11:14:44.270-07:00Ashfall by Mike Mullin:<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u>
<br /></u></span></div>
<br /><div>
<br /><a href="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1301592315l/9644151.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 475px;" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1301592315l/9644151.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">This is a rare book. One that breathes like a flickering flame, before exploding like an inferno, gathering you in its clutches and refusing to let go. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are three things I learned from <i>Ashfall:<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent:-18.0pt;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span><span>1)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Super Volcanoes are SUPER scary. </p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-18.0pt;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span><span>2)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->People are capable of anything. </p> <p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent:-18.0pt;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span><span>3)<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman""> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Never trust men with target signs on the back of their skull</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Although, if I’m honest, that last one I already had figured out. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now to the good stuff: The book itself. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">This is everything you want from a disaster novel, and everything I hoped The Road would be. The thing is, in a market saturated by post-apocalyptic fiction, this is unique. Because this book deals with the immediate aftermath of disaster, and not as a reference to the past. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">Alex, an ordinary fifteen year old on an ordinary day is thrust into extraordinary circumstances when the Super Volcano at Yellowstone National Park erupts. After a series of unexpected and terrifying events, he sets off to find his family in Warren and discovers that disasters bring out the worst in some people. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">Particularly when you have this going off in your ears:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMsNrXJCTjo4JXzr75ulxm36lVwII_KZwU9luxKS8K3X8JVP2zE8Z1BiXZxsXHTNeI3htjlpWrru4JdUF9ZxHZE9E3dlwwTu5Mzfkv5Hw_0VrKyCbOHndvKeg8DKG-u-V10uZT92xSuJ8M/s640/20.+Yellowstone+Super-volcano%25252C+United+States.jpg" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:36.0pt">YIKES!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The action starts from the get go, and Mullin’s prose is pitch perfect, as he describes everything to great detail, but not to the point where you’re mind is as muddled as a post-volcanic boom. You can see every inch of what he is describing, and this is both a good and bad thing if you have a nervous disposition, because this book is DISGUSTING! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And I love it for that. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>I’ll admit it; I love reading thrillers, and horror, so it takes a lot to get a reaction from me. I have read entire scenes featuring decapitation and did not even blink an eye (this probably says something about the desensitisation of my generation, but I say it’s because I’m odd) but when reading this book, the following happened:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I gasped. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I screamed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I gagged. And gagged some more. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I gagged so much that I was asked if I was okay and offered a glass of water. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And all with a giant, face-splitting grin on my face. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because gagging while reading a book is not something I have done in a very, very long time. It was a refreshing change. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>But don’t let that deter you, this book is phenomenal. It is highly original, artfully written and the characters are just as interesting as the plot. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Ashfall </i>shows that in the face of adversity, when times are tough, people are capable of anything. People will do anything to survive. Because survival is part of our programming. It is part of the human condition. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>This is book I want on hand if there is ever an earth-shattering disaster. Firstly, because it’s fantastic, but secondly—and maybe this is more important—it actually tells you HOW to survive a disaster zone. From skinning rabbits, to surviving attacks by psychopathic cannibals. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s right: CANNIBALS! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This book has everything!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can’t wait for the next instalment: <i>Ashen Winter</i>, and to see what becomes of Alex, Darla and the whole gang, as well as seeing more from Mike Mullin. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is an author to watch folks.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Highly recommend it. </p><p class="MsoNormal">5/5 </p> <p class="MsoNormal">*I received this ARC courtesy of NetGalley in return for an honest review. I thank them for it*</p></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-31370923044091587562011-08-08T14:22:00.000-07:002011-08-08T14:28:11.945-07:00In the Moonlight: a short story for funzies, and for a contestSo, Merry Sisters of fate are having a contest based on a prompt<div>
<br /></div><div>Link here: <a href="http://merryfates.com/2011/08/08/watcher-prompt-contest-2/">http://merryfates.com/2011/08/08/watcher-prompt-contest-2/</a></div><div>
<br /></div><div>So i thought I'd throw my two cents in and get to writing. So here we go:</div><div>
<br /></div><div><i><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>IN THE MOONLIGHT:</b></i></div><div><i><b>
<br /></b></i></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="font-style: italic; "> </b> <span class="Apple-style-span" >Only the moonlight, the twittering birds and the guards were outside on the cold winter’s night. The foot soldiers watch the castle, protecting the preciousness that’s hidden inside. The royal family: King Jensen. Queen Annabelle.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>And me.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Quinlan stalks outside the horse stables while I hide behind the hay. His sword is poised at his side and a bored expression is etched into every nook and cranny of his face. <span> </span>I am help captive in my castle, and I want out. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>The hem of my dress grows filthier and the pungent smell makes me regret my decision to sneak out. But I need to breathe. I need my freedom. I am not a canary to be caged. I only have one life.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>I intend to live it. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Once again, Quinlan paces back and forth, his shoe catching the tip of his sword, kicking it as he walks, like a disturbed dance. I almost laugh, but stifle the sound with the trail of my sleeve. I have known Quinlan all my life. His father is the leader of the guards, so he spent many an afternoon keeping me company in the castle, each of us itching to discover secret passage ways hidden in the depths of the stone castle, and only finding secrets hidden behind its doors. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >One of which is the bounty on my head, haunting me since my youth. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >But two months ago the first serious attempt was taken by the lake, and I only just escaped capture. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Hence the increase in protection detail, and the fraying of my nerves. <span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Quinlan seems to be alone, bathed in the eerily bright moonlight reflecting off the courtyard. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I wonder... <span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Hunched behind the hay, I caw like a crow and hopes he remembers our signal from when we were children. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >He doesn’t. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >I don’t know what disappoints me more: that he didn’t remember, or that I thought he would. Quinlan and I haven’t spoken for three years, ever since he joined the guards and I was sought out for official duties. When my life became too complicated. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >When my life was no longer mine to live. <span> </span><span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Quinlan pauses for a moment, but shakes his head, thinking he has imagined the noise that incited the shiver up his spine, as it had mine. But unlike him I chose not to ignore the sound. The sound of boot soles crunching against leaves, trying—and failing—to be silent. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Then he attacked. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Quinlan’s cat-like reflexes kicked in, thankfully, as his assailant darted at him with slash after slash. Quinlan parried and defended, metal crashing against metal, ringing out into the night. But no help could be found. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I pause, enthralled and anxious, watching as Quinlan’s movements became more frantic and less skilled. He was getting tired. This could be dangerous. This could kill him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>My stomach drops at the thought. Searching high and low across the stable walls, a scythe cries out to me like seraphim. I slip towards it, careful not to make too much noise. The handle is heavier than I imagined, the long blade coated in a thin film of rust and history. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>I heave it from the wall and it crashes into the floor. I cannot lift it, and Quinlan’s grunts become more pronounced and his attacker draws closer. Beside the scythe lies a pitchfork, used to bundle hay together for turning in the heart of summer. I grasp it, feeling its weight reassure me as I hold it steadily at my waist and draw the scythe along the ground behind me, its blade ringing in protest. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The assailant is ten feet away. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >He turns at the noise. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >This is my chance, and I take it.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>The pitchfork is airborne and falls in a downward arc through the muscles of his right leg. He cries out. Quinlan scrambles for his sword, which he lost in the struggle. But despite the blood loss and the pain, the attacker knows his target. He knows I am the one he will get the reward for capturing. Feasts and riches will reign down on him when he serves my head on a silver platter for the neighbouring king. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I can’t let that happen.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>I won’t. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >His grin grows wide, he tears the pitchfork from his leg and comes toward me, sword drawn and eye menacing. He is the hawk. I am the mouse. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I am about to die. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >That is something I cannot fathom. Cannot accept.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Something washes over me, a sudden encompassing calm. <span> </span>I do not cry. I do not whimper. I merely say “Goodnight.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>And once he is close enough, I life the scythe and swing. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>There is an arc of blood, a crumpling body, and a rolling head, before the scythe returns to my side and rips my sleeve apart, slicing through the soft skin of my forearm. I grunt and drop the weapon. Nausea roils through me. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I stand, unmoving, and look upon the mess I have made.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Lina?” Quinlan stares at me in shock. It is enough to propel me across the courtyard, through the back kitchen and toward my room, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I climb. And climb. And climb some more.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Finally, the familiar limestone brickwork and flickering candlelight greets me, my bedroom beckoning me for sleep so I can pretend this is all a dream. A terrible nightmare. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Hearing the footsteps clamber up the stairs, reverberating off the secretive stones and turrets, does nothing to settle my nerves. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Lina,” his voice calls, growing uncertain as he grasps the final footstep separating us, but feeling like a cavern in between. “Princess Lina,” I incline my head toward him, feeling the rush of emotion waving like flags in my veins, and look away once more. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Fear. Nausea. Shock. Uncertainty. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >That is all I feel. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >All I know.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>All I am.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“May I ask why you followed me, Quinlan?” My voice is sharp and bitter as gooseberries, clipped to emulate my position, my god-given right. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >What I have put on the line this very night. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Quinlan hangs his head, trying to shake away the shock. “Lina, look at me,” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I say nothing. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I do nothing. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >I still. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Quinlan, leave me.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“You saved my life, Lina.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”<span> </span>I push on the wooden panels, wishing them to fall away beneath my hand, but I can’t seem to enter the room. My breath freezes in my chest, my muscles ice.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“I would be dead if you hadn’t helped. He had his sword poised for the kill. You...you saved me. How can I repay you?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“You want to help me? Pretend it never happened.” I say, looking at him briefly. His dark hair, his darker eyes. The shadow of the boy I used to know hidden behind the safety of the red guards uniform. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>Quinlan grasps my sleeve, fingering the torn fabric and spattered blood. “You’re hurt.” I do not look at him, or speak, but feel his fingers trail like butterfly wings across the wound, holding my arm in his grasp. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“I’ll live.” I whisper. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“As will I.” He says. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Goodnight Quinlan.” I say, pushing on the doorframe, but am stilled by the fleeting feeling of his lips against my skin, pressing softly against my wound, lingering against my blood stained skin. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span> </span>The night is still. The castle quiet. Tendrils of my flame-red hair hang free from my braid. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“Thank you, Lina.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >“I miss you Quinlan.” I draw myself from him and enter the room, lean against the dark wood door, and promise that tomorrow is just another day. That living in the moment means yesterday does not exist. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >How I wish for this moment not to exist. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Because Princesses are meant to sit pretty and be poised. They are not meant to be armed and dangerous. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The funny thing is, at that moment of death, I had never felt more alive.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Hope you like :)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" >XxX</span></p></div><div><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >
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<br /></u></b></i></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-15438192283814492652011-07-28T11:59:00.000-07:002011-07-28T12:05:29.078-07:00Hello there Kittens. <div><br /></div><div>Yes, whatever, I'm a serial blog deserter. If I was in the army, I would so be done for going A.W.O.L. </div><div>I'm ashamed. </div><div>I apologise. </div><div><br /></div><div> Now, let's move past this and get to the good stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>From now on, this blog will no longer be just books and films ("was it ever?" I hear you cry. Hardy Har har.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm gonna throw some writing on here. </div><div><br /></div><div>Like many people without a summer job, or in my case, a life, I've taken to writing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, like this blog, that gets abandoned quite frequently too.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I just got my first short story published on Paranormal flash fiction, a very cool website folks, highly recommend it, and am using it as motivation to get my ass in gear and get my fingers a'typing. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>So yeah, this will be the place for me to post my general musings in a not so coherant form. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But I'll throw some reviews in here too, since I find them fun :D</div><div><br /></div><div>BTW, if you haven't heard, because you're living under a rock, The Hunger Games, March 23rd 2011....BE THERE! :D</div><div><br /></div><div>Later, friends. </div><div><br /></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-33251784408497780902011-06-20T06:14:00.002-07:002011-06-20T07:22:05.957-07:00Divergent by Veronica Roth: the review.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 475px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dT5-YTWcZxw/TbMv6_6IBCI/AAAAAAAABI8/lEV4BTzUE1w/s1600/9859820.jpg" border="0" alt="" />This review contains spoilers. Not major ones, but spoilers none the less. <div>Don't say I didn't warn you. </div><div><br /></div><div>After a long overdue hiatus, I've finally decided to get off my ass and do some reviewing. <div>And I could not be more proud to be reviewing Divergent.<br /><div>Veronica Roth's debut is easily one of the most compelling reads to grace our bookshelves all year.<br /><div><br /></div><div>So, let's get down to business</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Summary:</b><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(24, 24, 24); font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><i>In Beatrice Prior's dystopian Chicago, society is divided into five factions, each dedicated to the cultivation of a particular virtue—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). On an appointed day of every year, all sixteen-year-olds must select the faction to which they will devote the rest of their lives. For Beatrice, the decision is between staying with her family and being who she really is—she can't have both. So she makes a choice that surprises everyone, including herself.<br /><br />During the highly competitive initiation that follows, Beatrice renames herself Tris and struggles to determine who her friends really are—and where, exactly, a romance with a sometimes fascinating, sometimes infuriating boy fits into the life she's chosen. But Tris also has a secret, one she's kept hidden from everyone because she's been warned it can mean death. And as she discovers a growing conflict that threatens to unravel her seemingly perfect society, she also learns that her secret might help her save those she loves . . . or it might destroy her. </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(24, 24, 24); font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Sounds good, right? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Well, I have news for you: You have <i>no i</i>dea.</span></span></div><div></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(24, 24, 24); font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This book is a force to be reckoned with; a literary wrecking ball with the force to knock every bit of air from your lungs and suspend you in disbelief and awe, while compelling you to keep the pages turning long into the night.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">It's been a while since I have been so captured by a book that I have to force myself to put it down. In the last three years, it has happened only a handful of times. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">The two that spring to mind are Divergent, and the other heavyweight in the Dystopian genre, The Hunger Games. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Yes, the genre is becoming saturated. Every way you turn, another dystopian novel pops up and hits you right between the eyes. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I, for one, am thrilled with this development. Dystopian fiction is exciting. The imagined worlds are all possible, if just a few changes are made. Yes, that thought is frightening, but it also makes the novels that much more captivating, don't y0u think?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Anyway, enough with the digression, back to Divergent. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Tris has to choose between one of five Factions once she turns sixteen. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">They are:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> </span></span><img src="http://novelnovice.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/abnegation.jpg" /> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <img src="http://platform.ak.fbcdn.net/www/app_full_proxy.php?app=187377001301782&v=1&size=o&cksum=2435ea2589b5902434787c5edae6c9e0&src=http%3A%2F%2Fcdn.friend2friend.com%2Fs%2Fn%2F88%2F2%2F1304607761640%2Fsatellite%2F2%2Fc%2Fimages%2Ffaction-4.gif" /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><img src="http://novelnovice.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/candor.jpg?w=88&h=97" /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><img src="http://thefactionless.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/dauntless.jpg" /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><img src="http://novelnovice.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/erudite.jpg" /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Tris has to choose, and the choice will change her life forever.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I am always a fan of books that feature strong female leads, and more often than not I am left disappointed. Tris does not disappoint. She is strong, both physically and mentally, and she deals with the trials and tribulations of life in the Factions with clever wit and extraordinary courage. She spends a good deal of the book being bruised and bloodied by other delegates in her chosen faction, Dauntless, but she doesn't whine and cry and wonder why. She deals with it, and I appreciate her more for that. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">In fact, all the characters are equally captivating, lovable and detestable, as our protagonist and her trainer, the incomparable Four. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Oh, Four, how I love thee....:)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Serioulsly, a hot trainer, and love interest, always adds to my appreciation of a book. Yes, it makes me shallow, but it's not just how he looks. It's because of who he is. All his little nuances and complexities make Four one of the most interesting love interests I've ever come across.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">And it makes me even more obsessively in love with a fictional character. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Of course, this is all due to Roth's amazing writing style. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Honestly, I am more attached to Veronica Roth's characters than I am to my own. Rivers of tears will flow from my eyes if anything happens to them. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I am eagerly awaiting the sequel, Insurgent, and can't wait to get my greedy paws on a copy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Although, I don't think the I can wait, the suspense is killing me. Or at least giving me peptic ulcers after that ending.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This book gets two thumbs up, and on the crap to cool ratio? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">It's definitely reaching Ice-cold awesome levels. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Thoroughly recommend it. To everyone. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">But particularly to fans of the Hunger Games. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">After all, we need a new obsession, and this thoroughly lives up to the hype. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">5/5</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Oh, and P.S.--Casting Directors? For the upcoming film, try and get</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Skylar Samuels</div><div><img src="http://static.tvfanatic.com/images/gallery/chloe-king-pic_523x349.jpg" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>`<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>or<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Eliza Bennett</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><img src="http://www.pollsb.com/photos/o/443144-eliza_bennett.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>and the lovely Drew Roy</span></span><img src="http://fansmaniacnews.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Falling-Skies_3_Drew-Roy_PH-Frank-Ockenfels_20667_001_0196_R-550x733.jpg" /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> as Tris and Four, won't you? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Sincerely, </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> a loving fangirl.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(24, 24, 24); font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><i><br /><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(24, 24, 24); font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; "><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-83897392114231913102011-06-12T05:44:00.001-07:002011-06-12T05:47:24.955-07:00So, this is bare....<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><u><br /></u></span></div>Yes, I know, I suck. <div><br /></div><div>I probably should post something...</div><div><br /></div><div>SoI made a Finnick Odair Manip. </div><div>You know, for funzies. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8Rzp1Ver_ubzPpbJuUz5VqrzvNpvhvY1OrVogm-Plgw1ER_6J4VV0XQ5RauZMgdVOMzxT_TeWon1wvY9yC9bhEPoYJf_1hQG3lY9v0Zhc26QGCLHikwL_OjsbJrWb8PoDs3057cbjOA/s400/abstract_0073-65307+copy.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I wish I was better at photoshop, but whatever. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>At least this thing looks a little less bare.</div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-83747741850148256802010-10-03T09:06:00.000-07:002010-10-03T09:19:27.489-07:00Laziness personified.Wow, I'm such a lazycakes! <div><br /></div><div>I have had a very unproductive summer and autumn, filled with good intentions, and unfulfilled promises...</div><div><br /></div><div>And I'm pretty sure that nothing's going to change that. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I'll try to be a little more proactive regarding my writing, reading and other generally amusing past times. </div><div><br /></div><div>Had a pretty decent week actually. </div><div><br /></div><div>Went to see "The Town" last saturday. It's an excellent thriller, full of suspense and drama, and the acting and eye-candy isn't that bad either....</div><div><br /></div><div>One complaint?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It needs freaking SUBTITLES!</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't understand half of what was said, and if I had, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more. </div><div><br /></div><div>Moving on...</div><div><br /></div><div>Went to a book signing in Dublin on Thursday. Great day for me....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Not so great for the poor woman who fell off her chair in Supermacs and broke her ankle. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ouchies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Arrived, with books under one arm and dignity tucked away somewhere in my handbag and completely nerded out for the entire night.....ah bliss. </div><div><br /></div><div>Got signed copies of all my books. Personalised, don't ya know, and met the wonderfully talented, and utterly hilarious Genius' that are Maggie Stiefvater, Jennifer Lynn Barnes and Michael Scott. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was shocked when I saw JLB. One: Because she's so young. </div><div><br /></div><div>and more importantly</div><div><br /></div><div>Two: She is the image of my fourth class teacher!</div><div><br /></div><div>Freaky Biscuits. </div><div><br /></div><div>They were all really sound actually, didn't scoff at my fan-girl ness and I even got pictures taken. </div><div><br /></div><div>Excellente!</div><div><br /></div><div>I even got to talk to Maggie S about the double entendres in the Linger audiobook, courtesy of Dan Bitner. He played Pete O'Malley in the fabulously funny and sweet "Adventureland"....</div><div><br /></div><div>His voice actually made me fall off a chair! </div><div><br /></div><div>He has the sexiest voice I have ever heard....</div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, it beats Johnny Depp any day, ladies. Take note.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, if I have time, or energy, I will read and review all the books, a well as the one I got in a goodie bag that isn't due to be released till next april. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh. I loves me an ARC. :D</div><div><br /></div><div>Ranting is so much fun, isn't it? College Life has taken it's toll on my wonderous rambling capabilities. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, and just for fun:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>READ PAPER TOWNS BY JOHN GREEN!</div><div><br /></div><div>I promise, you won't regret it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Signing off....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Better than signing on I guess.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lolgasm.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-2247116623140042142010-08-30T08:45:00.000-07:002010-08-30T08:56:12.937-07:00Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare. The Book Report<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDJpOTGkjidGC4RduHYzK9reJxPynyTDfrRkQu6_R3mLPNvOjF-fI4EXsYgOaksBKmY9GISCjnkhNTh3oMoXYFnS1SIW3NyFBJk1kmy4JOYqgh2qFWvJ09OAZka4Dr8Rt8cT1iOU-VGum/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 500px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDJpOTGkjidGC4RduHYzK9reJxPynyTDfrRkQu6_R3mLPNvOjF-fI4EXsYgOaksBKmY9GISCjnkhNTh3oMoXYFnS1SIW3NyFBJk1kmy4JOYqgh2qFWvJ09OAZka4Dr8Rt8cT1iOU-VGum/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>I spent the entire weekend dutifully devouring the latest novel from phenomenal author-- and New York Times Bestseller, Cassandra Clare-- Clockwork Angel. <div>And it got me out of my "I need Mockingjay" funk. </div><div> The first in a new series, The Infernal Devices, the story is a prequel to her debut series The Mortal Instruments (City of Bones, City of Ashes and City of Glass) and is set in the atmospheric and gloomy backdrop of Victorian London in 1878.<br />Once again, we delve into the world of the Shadowhunters.<br /> For those of you not in the know-- and for shame if you aren’t-- The Shadowhunter’s are a group of clandestine demon hunters that reside all across the world and originate from Idris.<br />And, to be honest, they’re fricking awesome and you should get yourself formally acquainted.<br /> Anyway, this is the premise for Clockwork Angel.<br /><br />“<i>Magic is Dangerous.<br />Love is more dangerous still<br />When sixteen-year-old Tessa Gray arrives in England during the reign of Queen Victoria, something terrifying is waiting for her in London’s Downworld, where vampires, warlocks and other supernatural folk stalk the gas lit streets. Friendless and hunted, Tessa seeks refuge with the Shadowhunters, a band of warriors dedicated to ridding the world of demons, Drawn ever deeper into their world, she finds herself fascinated by-- and torn between-- two best friends and quickly realizes that love may be the most dangerous magic of all</i>.”</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://photos2.meetupstatic.com/photos/event/8/7/2/5/highres_6694597.jpeg" /><br /><br />Okay, I’ll admit, at first I was hesitant. Not because of Clare’s writing, which I have complete confidence in and marvel at just how talented she is. She writes compelling and beautiful prose that’s captivating but not overwhelming and not pretentious or overly decadent like other writers--(Stephen King: Here’s looking at you, kid)-- I was never able to really get into the whole Victorian novel, until Clockwork Angel came along. I feared that, like Pride and Prejudice, The Age of Innocence and others of the kind; I would not be able to handle it.<br />My fears were unfounded.<br /> Just like The Mortal Instruments series (which, along with Harry Potter, The Hunger Games and The Darkest Powers series, is one of my favourite series to read and re-read), Clockwork Angel is action packed and thrilling, as well as ridiculously hilarious.<br />Considering I read the majority of the book in public places, and got very funny looks from the bouncer when I had it in my handbag in the nightclub, the fact that I gaped, laughed and cried made some people kind of uncomfortable.<br />But you know what?<br />It was so worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://www.juliaslaughter.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/Clockwork_Angel.jpg" /><br /> <br />Let’s break this down into three parts:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3366FF;">The plot:</span></b></span><br /><br />It was a completely original plot, like nothing I have ever seen before. Usually, due to the amount of books I have read, and bookshelves I have broken, I can predict things before they happen. Not this time. Every twist and turn just sucked me deeper into the maelstrom of suspense and action and kept me utterly hooked till the very last page, where I cried out, begging for more.<br /><br />Ugh, that sounds kind of kinky. Ignore that.<br /><br />In other words, the story is ridonkulously awesome.<br />Another plus is that, even if you haven’t read The Mortal Instruments series, you can read the Infernal devices (Clockwork Angel, Clockwork Prince, Clockwork Princess) and understand the Shadowhunter world and customs almost instantly. Just enjoy revelling in the Steampunk-y goodness.<br /><br />*Note: If you giggled at the word Steampunk, join the club! You’re as big a kid as me*<br /><br />And guys, if you’re worried that the story will be too “girly” for you; think again.<br /><br />Considering the first line reads:<br /><br /> “The demon exploded in a shower of ichor and guts”<br /><br />I don’t think you’re going to have a problem.<br /><br />Next:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Romance:</span></b></span><br /><br />One word.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">HOT!</span><br /><br />Clare has this wonderful knack of writing drool worthy boys. Although I did miss my Simon (My favourite character from TMI, as well as Isabelle, even though they’re all awesome), I was easily distracted by the amazesome-ness -- (just coined a phrase.)-- That is Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs.<br /><br />For the first time in my life, I can’t choose a team.<br /><br />Yes, I am a team chooser, so sue me.<br />Although that is the very definition of a frivolous lawsuit.<br /><br />Will: Tall, black hair, blue eyes, hilarious, irritating and lovable at the same time.<br />Jem: Tall, Silver hair, Silver eyes, very funny, and possibly the sweetest boy alive….<br /><br /><br />I honestly can’t decide.<br /><br />Insert growling noise here.<br /><br />Both grow fascinated with Tessa, who has *spoiler alert* the ability to change her appearance and absorb a person’s memories and feelings while she becomes them.<br /><br />Which, to be honest, is one of the coolest powers I’ve ever heard of in fiction.<br /><br />Also, I want it.<br /><br />Anyway….<br /><br />There are two seriously smouldering scenes that leave the reader breathless.<br /><br />And all because of a hand.<br /><br />Just a gloved hand.<br /><br />But wow.<br /><br />Sorry, I digress.<br /><br /><br />The romance element is breathtaking, but there is enough action and suspense to suit everyone.<br /><br />And finally.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>The Characters:</b></span></span><br /><br />Like all of Clare’s characters, everyone is likeable but complex and compelling and you genuinely grow to care for them. So much so that they almost seem like real people.<br />Another plus is that they’re all freaking hilarious.<br /><br />Possibly my favourite line (one of many) would have to be from Mr. Will Herondale. If you read the Mortal Instruments series, you’ll see where Jace gets his sense of humour from.<br />Actually, I think Will is funnier.<br />Actually, I think Clockwork Angel, as a whole, is funnier.<br />And that’s saying something, folks.<br /><br />Will Herondale:<br /><br />“Miss Gray, Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who’s trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs”<br /><br />Or:<br /><br />“You know” Gabriel said, “there was a time I thought we could be friends, Will.”<br />“There was a time I thought I was a ferret,” Will said, “but that turned out to be an opium haze. Did you know it had that effect? Because I didn’t.”<br /><br /><br />But Will is not the only hilarious person. Each character has biting wit and cleverness that left my sides sore from laughing.<br /><br />I do love a funny female protagonist; and Tessa delivers.<br />As does Charlotte, Sophie and Jessamine.<br /><br />God, I love them all. It’s ridiculous.<br /><br />Also, I am happy to report that there is an appearance by the one and only, three different kinds of fabulous Warlock, Magnus Bane.<br />I mean seriously, what’s not to love?<br /><br />Overall:<br /><br />As a whole, this book ticked every box for me, and I’m desperate for the next copy. I’ll have to sate my need for City of Fallen Angels (the next book in the Mortal Instruments series--Boo to the Yah!) by reading and re-reading Clockwork and Angel and the others.<br /><br />Time well spent.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">5/5 Stars.</span></span> </span><br /><br />Amazeballs.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-61052499818967547162010-07-12T07:46:00.000-07:002010-07-12T09:00:13.412-07:00Dark and twisted....just like I like it.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bibliojunkie.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/the-girl-with-the-dragon-tattoo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 500px;" src="http://bibliojunkie.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/the-girl-with-the-dragon-tattoo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />It's been a while, and I'm bored, so I thought I might get off my hindquarters and do a review. This time, it's another compare and contrast. The subject? The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by the late Swedish crime writer, Stieg Larsson.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /><br />The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</span>:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmP3nTQGlPD1HqiC7GLllWqbCYnEioCAcul9_lRT78pRiW1cGwGEgrByCnSPVI95NEC2EnIvL3ybvVdAZs6cgY4aE1lf-zNewI-ZzZjr27ZLzVMvxMMn2ThmXCX7WSKGDgfVPq1tuLo68/s1600/The+girl+film+poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 444px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmP3nTQGlPD1HqiC7GLllWqbCYnEioCAcul9_lRT78pRiW1cGwGEgrByCnSPVI95NEC2EnIvL3ybvVdAZs6cgY4aE1lf-zNewI-ZzZjr27ZLzVMvxMMn2ThmXCX7WSKGDgfVPq1tuLo68/s400/The+girl+film+poster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493047505964802882" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The Film</span>:</span><br /><br />Thankfully, for fans and converts alike, the film is pretty true to the plot of the book, but it takes allowances that only prove to make the film better, rather than butchering the heart out of the story. This is how a book to film adaption should be made. Take note.<br /><br />So, for those of you who haven't popped your "The Girl" cherries yet, here's a pretty basic plot summary.<br /><br />Henrik Vanger is an industrialist with a terrible secret. Every year on his birthday he receives a pressed flower in a picture frame, similar to the ones he received from his favourite niece, Harriet.<br />The problem is, Harriet has been missing, presumed dead, for the last forty years. Henrik is certain that her killer is taunting him and seeks resolution, finally.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh_3olRC_PKH6MgWxfM5vb4lKM2NU2QT50GVxomA3iKy-yfBg-W52phkhyPhAdzgH5KETgj6mCD9VCNW4iRbmbRs1nz_tJv3YZiQyELEcTgG64BPiy-iRco-0pTQjM-MDervFmENfEDs/s1600/Lisbeth+and+Mikael.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh_3olRC_PKH6MgWxfM5vb4lKM2NU2QT50GVxomA3iKy-yfBg-W52phkhyPhAdzgH5KETgj6mCD9VCNW4iRbmbRs1nz_tJv3YZiQyELEcTgG64BPiy-iRco-0pTQjM-MDervFmENfEDs/s400/Lisbeth+and+Mikael.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493048030063795586" border="0" /></a>He contacts disgraced journalist, Mikael Blomkvist, to solve the forty year old mystery and put Harriet's mystery to rest. Blomkvist moves to the family's island and uncovers some dark secrets, and calls upon the help of master Hacker, Lisbeth Salander. What they uncover is shocking, hut-wrenching and heart-breaking all at once, and proves to be one of the most thrilling crime novels of the past decades.<br /><br />So screw you, James Patterson.<br /><br />The film, like I said, differs only slightly from the book, but everything is tied together nicely, and heightened from the superb performances from Noomi Rapace and Michael Nyqvist.<br /><br />The highlight of the tale, of course, is the girl with the dragon tattoo, Lisbeth Salander. Noomi Rapace is captivating in the role, taking the character wholeheartedly and convincingly. In a superb performance, I'm sure this woman will go a long way after the franchise is finished. She holds the screen magnificently, and never shies away from the hard-core nausea inducing scenes, while maintaining the character's cynicism and indifference, coupled with a hatred of vulnerability that makes Lisbeth so hard faced, yet kick ass.<br /><br />The film travels smoothly from one scene to another, no apparent plot holes to fall into and stunning aerial shots of Sweden. There is great Chemistry from the entire cast, and even the most vile characters are portrayed to perfection.<br /><br />I was sceptical about watching the film. Not because I thought it would be bad, quite the contrary, I knew it would be excellent as reading the book is like reading a script, once the embezzlement and logistics are over (thank god for pg 42 onwards, or else I think I would have cracked up). My problem is subtitles. Shock and or horror.<br /><br />Foreign films are fine; They're actually pretty cool most of the time, but as a glasses wearer and, let's face it, an easily distracted person, I thought the subtitles would take away from the film.<br /><br />However, for the subtitle phobic, the DVD does offer a dubbed audio, which was helpful, but I decided to try the subtitles and be done with it.<br /><br />I wasn't sorry.<br /><br />The dubbed version takes away from the film. I watched ten minutes on dubs, and felt two things;<br /><br />1) I thought I might be having a stroke.<br /><br />2) It reminded me of one of those old Bruce-Lee flicks.<br /><br />I hate out of sequence dubbing, so Subtitles were the way to go with this.<br /><br />I'll get over my aversion to them eventually....I hope. Definitely in time for the sequel, The Girl who played with Fire, die out August 24th. (Same day as Mockingjay. Mark your calenders.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4TTzjQ8aiNZHBdoKi-nY0WDKDpKPbwPH4B-q4bAsYcIRgwhOC3QL5jY4Tm7rvhdCnokdxgAXvlraygyZfdj5OsTSfo4t61aSVqSvYd0vdC7xphZjnCkH_Zcpw2m1yissZHN0-vmslPc/s1600/Noomi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 253px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4TTzjQ8aiNZHBdoKi-nY0WDKDpKPbwPH4B-q4bAsYcIRgwhOC3QL5jY4Tm7rvhdCnokdxgAXvlraygyZfdj5OsTSfo4t61aSVqSvYd0vdC7xphZjnCkH_Zcpw2m1yissZHN0-vmslPc/s400/Noomi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493048777006505618" border="0" /></a><br />The film is phenomenal. A non-stop, thrill a minute thriller that doesn't seem to drag, surprisingly, even when nothing consequential actually happens. I hold this solely to Noomi Rapace as the beautiful, broken, dangerous and damaged Lisbeth Salander. Definitely one for a Saturday night in, or any night in for that matter.<br /><br />Now, here we go.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">How does it compare to the book?:<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMg4KOJjPV88IW12yVbu2CkMwBPeDL76mCwkqpGzyxa80wYt10eBWhINT7DTufBcqqCk2llJ7CN_7Q84mec8a1PJZIvYfghMPV0xRiMktRYEPxDDDBp4-CyBAQDC5dQNLLt0BopJgY6s/s1600/The+girl+with+the+dragon+tattoo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 393px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMg4KOJjPV88IW12yVbu2CkMwBPeDL76mCwkqpGzyxa80wYt10eBWhINT7DTufBcqqCk2llJ7CN_7Q84mec8a1PJZIvYfghMPV0xRiMktRYEPxDDDBp4-CyBAQDC5dQNLLt0BopJgY6s/s400/The+girl+with+the+dragon+tattoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493047502539600338" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Like I said, this is how an adaption should be. True to the source material, and the only changes are the ones that have little or no consequence. Thankfully they got one thing totally right, and if they didn't, the film would have been an unmitigated disaster.<br /><br />Lisbeth.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_W0h4lhkpZXw67hXlXfxcsmpBo2eptLTTvFF8cWfkd_gnm90wCxMTV3BEtGyYA_5Ahi0AWdq5OVkazR-7Ht8sIbXxnbYoyWEiIdJ_1lcXTziEAd_B2__P48F28MGJUDw2ZFwfQq7HhNw/s1600/Lisbeth.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_W0h4lhkpZXw67hXlXfxcsmpBo2eptLTTvFF8cWfkd_gnm90wCxMTV3BEtGyYA_5Ahi0AWdq5OVkazR-7Ht8sIbXxnbYoyWEiIdJ_1lcXTziEAd_B2__P48F28MGJUDw2ZFwfQq7HhNw/s400/Lisbeth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493048028394765106" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Lisbeth is, without a doubt, one of the most captivating and compelling protagonists in literature. She's completely crazy, there's no questioning that, but she is able to rationalise everything she does, and you believe her. She's a certified genius, but she's broken. You can tell just by what she says and how she reacts that she was hurt in her life, and how every little thing can affect her differently to how you would expect. She doesn't react how you expect her to react. She doesn't think like you expect her to think. It's refreshing.<br /><br />I loved Lisbeth. Especially with the tattoo gun.... not a spoiler, just brilliant. She's resourceful and just plain old awesome of the highest order.<br /><br />The book drags a little more than the film does, but that's to be expected from a 480 page book. I thought I would hate it from the beginning, as all there was was business this and conspiracy that and blah blah blah. The Lisbeth came and the fun began to start and I couldn't put it down.<br /><br />This is a book for everyone who enjoys a good mystery, but not for those of a nervous disposition. Everyone I know who has read it has had the same adverse reaction to a particularly grizzly scene involving a budgie. Don't ask, just read.<br /><br />Intrigued? You should be. If not, I probably didn't do this justice, but trust me on this like you trust Baz Luhrman on the sunscreen and Chris Nolan with a film.<br /><br />The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is sure to become one of those novels that transcends generations and timelines, and like Harry Potter and a Picture of Dorian Gray, will be around forever.<br /><br /><br />If you like this...:<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Films</span>: Inception,<br />Let the right one in,<br />The departed,<br />Don't say a word,<br />Just general crime capers.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">TV</span>: Castle.....Just watch it, it's awe....quite a bit!<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Books</span>:<br /><br />The millennium trilogy, obviously.<br /><br />The Sean and Michelle books by David Baldacci (Split Second, Hour Game, Simple Genius, First Family)<br /><br />Promise me by Harlan Coben,<br /><br />Possibly John Connolly books like The Lovers, I'm not a huge fan, but maybe for other people.<br /><br />and for the YA enthusiasts:<br /><br />The Vampire Academy series by Richelle Mead.<br />(Vampire Academy, Frostbite, Shadow-Kissed, Blood Promise and Spirit Bound. Last Sacrifice the final installment, due out in November, and not soon enough!) Rose Hathaway is the coolest female protag. to grace YA literature, fact. And the rights to the series have been purchased by Perger who are pitching to companies as we speak. It really is the King among the Vampire Lit. Genre, at least in YA terms, but it's amazing, check it out.<br /><br />The Glass Demon by Helen Grant.<br />Creep little mystery that has me turning the pages as we speak.<br /><br />Down the rabbit hole by Peter Abrahams.<br />Apparently, this is one of Stephen King's favourite books, which is funny since he doesn't like anything, so if it has his stamp of approval, it's pretty good. It's a simple small town mystery, and a thirteen year old girl who is adamant to discover who killed Crazy Katie, and how she may have led the police in the wring direction by withholding evidence. This was pretty good. I liked it, and I couldn't put it down. It's very simple, and that's not a bad thing. I liked it, I'm not sure why. If you've read it, maybe you can understand, but it's eluding me.<br /><br />and of course...<br /><br />The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.<br /><br />Best way to describe this is a post-apocalyptic Battle Royale meets Running man based in America. It's incredible, fast paced and "unputdownable"--That's such a stupid word, but appropriate for now. Just read it, love it and never doubt my judgement again. Due out next year. Director to be announced in the next few weeks. Chris Nolan and Matthew Vaughn for the win, methinks.<br /><br /><br /><br />Well, that's all folks! I'm tired, not exactly coherent, and completely rusty, but like they say, that's showbiz!<br /><br />Or not.<br /><br />Until we meet again and other such placating sentiments....<br /><br />Adieu.<br /><br /><br />XxX</span>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-82082863338219605672010-06-20T06:26:00.000-07:002010-06-20T07:13:20.576-07:00Letters to Juliet: Not one for the Boys... or the Lactose Intolerant<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLm_gTNp1Lxk0UBMOfbKgVEqRiosftWjawAwFPnUJEEmwM6GNuRIjFsKsa0C-6vexhfg5eWaFUcTMRDBk_bAWydp0wUS2DR3g0oyENdQ5Cp8N1tbJxpXQKcHNbk0f2BKEIeqDTKFhqf3c/s1600/letters+to+juliet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLm_gTNp1Lxk0UBMOfbKgVEqRiosftWjawAwFPnUJEEmwM6GNuRIjFsKsa0C-6vexhfg5eWaFUcTMRDBk_bAWydp0wUS2DR3g0oyENdQ5Cp8N1tbJxpXQKcHNbk0f2BKEIeqDTKFhqf3c/s400/letters+to+juliet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484856323307817650" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Well, it's been a while, and I'm slightly rusty, but lets give this a bash, shall we?<br /><br />Friday night meant a welcome return to the cinema after a week and a half of torture, and there's still one exam to go.<br /><br />:(<br /><br />I just wanted to watch something that I wouldn't have to think about....at all.<br /><br />Letters to Juliet fit the bill.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCAFvd9G2RzCs3aGQ6F_YgErPnFy5xnhJwn9lP-7NRfrdhvbAJ873QJ0nA2OPmG5UBUcob3-13OIinr_rYN4BMDE3ti0fzvwK7x2mLtgV5dTrhEAWKiEGi2DSdd-LgVUtTh9O-5aHfqrA/s1600/LTJ.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 119px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCAFvd9G2RzCs3aGQ6F_YgErPnFy5xnhJwn9lP-7NRfrdhvbAJ873QJ0nA2OPmG5UBUcob3-13OIinr_rYN4BMDE3ti0fzvwK7x2mLtgV5dTrhEAWKiEGi2DSdd-LgVUtTh9O-5aHfqrA/s400/LTJ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484856297907376418" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Basically, the story revolves around Sophie (played by Amanda Seyfried --who seems to have an affinity for films featuring Letters), a fact checker for The New Yorker and an aspiring writer. She is currently engaged to *cough* a complete douche *cough cough* Chef named Victor, played by Gael Garcia Bernal, who takes a step away from playing Che Geuvara, as he is most well known for, to play an absolute and utter.....sorry, he just really teed me off.<br /><br />Anyway, as a pre-Honeymoon Honeymoon, they go to Verona, the city of love. He spends all his time pretty much climaxing over cheese and she meets the Secretaries of Juliet. In Verona, there is a wall at juliets castle, where women send letters to the proatgonist of Shakespeare's tragic play. These women pose as Juliet and answer any and all problems posted on the wall. It's a nice idea, I suppose...<br /><br />--There stands my first problem: Romeo and Juliet is not a love story. It's the tale of two infatuated morons; one horny, stupid girl and one even stupider fickle boy. I rant about this play all the time, so I'm not going to rehash the details now. I'm just a cynic, and leave it at that.--<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79Hc_ZfqQfqoy42vxD8hk-NNDfcWVttfcfIRVQ1DHY3SkIslwt-rVWS0FUbsf3MCqDMng7AVm6lbOTYQpi4-wGVgAyzqpuGkvQEhNmYT6OCyK1J6FLxWwupZww6FLFOLZNoopg1Tqzfo/s1600/Sophie+at+wall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 163px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79Hc_ZfqQfqoy42vxD8hk-NNDfcWVttfcfIRVQ1DHY3SkIslwt-rVWS0FUbsf3MCqDMng7AVm6lbOTYQpi4-wGVgAyzqpuGkvQEhNmYT6OCyK1J6FLxWwupZww6FLFOLZNoopg1Tqzfo/s400/Sophie+at+wall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484857236662238466" border="0" /></a>Anywho, Sophie finds a letter hidden in the wall, that was written by a woman called Clare 50 years beforehand, and decides to write a response telling her to fight for her love, Lorenzo.<br /><br />Thus bringing the highlight of the film, Charlie, into action.<br /><br />Charlie accompanies his Grandmother to Verona, and confronts Sophie about the letter. After a brief argument and an even briefer encounter, Sophie decides to accompany them on their hunt for Lorenzo, and to write the story in the process.<br /><br />Charlie reminds me of Sebastian in Cruel Intentions, in the way that he can be a complete and utter prick, but I still absolutely love him.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1oAEKMiSaRx0vqQAOUtZeI0bMWYPI-x0zOzKlSFqdW4IgkfYS9QlXGm0ODOcPV9eQHm4px8IcYbERJKvkLEnhL0k2bOT6-kOyhp6QqK2BqxaWE_RHup7aGP5YMyMN-94grAOriw2dkg/s1600/Sophie+with+Letter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1oAEKMiSaRx0vqQAOUtZeI0bMWYPI-x0zOzKlSFqdW4IgkfYS9QlXGm0ODOcPV9eQHm4px8IcYbERJKvkLEnhL0k2bOT6-kOyhp6QqK2BqxaWE_RHup7aGP5YMyMN-94grAOriw2dkg/s400/Sophie+with+Letter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484857957891502546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In fairness, any man who can openly and honestly find fault in Romeo and Juliet, and use crushing Sarcasm in the process wins a place in my heart.<br /><br />The fact that he doesn't look like he was hit by the back end of double-decker bus also helps.<br /><br />Now, lets get down to the nitty-gritty.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" >So what about the film?</span></span><br /><br />Well, to put it simply, it's just....nice.<br /><br />It's your typical formulaic fluff that's not too taxing on the brain. There aren't that many laughs throughout, as the film focuses more on the romantic element in this rom-com, but it is none the less enjoyable. It's corny, but it's hard for a film in this genre not to be layered in smatterings of cheese.<br /><br />and sometimes, a cheesy film is just what the doctor ordered. Good, old-fashioned, unaldulterated cheese. :D<br /><br />Seyfried and Christopher Egan (the aforementioned Charlie) have pretty decent chemistry, and you really do root for them....even though you're not sure why.<br /><br /><br />Anyway, Ladies, if you're a fan of a Walk to Remember, The Notebook, or just a bit of Romance, I'd give it a go.<br /><br />If only for Charlie! ;)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_x2lhFi3h6TfbwJa4gd9Ym4OzFPgcEGg1kdd2S3ERTfWpPfbJYW3oKUSx9-5-J-ylns0mZmLfdRuXm47BlVHoMN0vQrsnbzzyDG4XCc5Jl0xWCpMJQL9vJjm9jRPTfZPkOkxT87ZdCg/s1600/Chris+Egan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_x2lhFi3h6TfbwJa4gd9Ym4OzFPgcEGg1kdd2S3ERTfWpPfbJYW3oKUSx9-5-J-ylns0mZmLfdRuXm47BlVHoMN0vQrsnbzzyDG4XCc5Jl0xWCpMJQL9vJjm9jRPTfZPkOkxT87ZdCg/s400/Chris+Egan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484856309519629714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Lads, give it a miss. Although, to be honest, There isn't much for you guys out there at the moment....Maybe Get him to the Greek? Toy Story 3 also rocks socks.<br /><br />Anyway, it's a sunny day, and I'm procrastinating, so I just thought I'd make my blog a little less bare! :D<br />Updates will swarm soon enough.<br /><br />XOXO.Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-90879924522062859792010-05-23T13:22:00.000-07:002010-06-20T13:35:34.942-07:00Barney's Blog, HIMYM actually exists<a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/how_i_met_your_mother/community/barney_blog/index.php">http://www.cbs.com/primetime/how_i_met_your_mother/community/barney_blog/index.php</a><br /><br /><br />I'm so following this!Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-70216991969944271922010-05-13T09:14:00.000-07:002010-05-13T09:19:00.924-07:00The Full "Eclipse" Sountrack listing/Found this on my internet travels, and decided to post the listing. After all, music builds up the atmosphere and emoitional connection in every film, and the songs soon become thw soundtracks to our lives, and other pretencious, douce-monkey esque stuff like that. <br /><br />Here we go:<br /><br />1. Metric – “Eclipse (All Yours)”<br />2. Muse – “Neutron Star Collision (Love Is Forever)”<br />3. The Bravery – “Ours”<br />4. Florence + The Machine – “Heavy In Your Arms”<br />5. Sia – “My Love”<br />6. Fanfarlo – “Atlas”<br />7. The Black Keys – “Chop And Change”<br />8. The Dead Weather – “Rolling In On A Burning Tire”<br />9. Beck & Bat For Lashes – “Let’s Get Lost”<br />10. Vampire Weekend – “Jonathan Low”<br />11. Unkle– “With You In My Head (ft. The Black Angels)”<br />12. Eastern Conference Champions – “A Million Miles An Hour”<br />13. Band Of Horses – “Life On Earth”<br />14. Cee Lo Green – “What Part Of Forever”<br />15. Howard Shore - “Jacob’s Theme”<br /><br /><br />It's the typical indie-fied soumdtracks I've come to know, and love, from the Twilight saga. Muse in on there, no shocker. What did shock me is that Beck duets with Bat for Lashes? Maybe I've got it wrong somehow. <br /><br />anyway, I'm gonna be buying the soudtrack regardless of the films worth, because You have to admit, it does have a certain callibre of songs that can make the musical tastebuds water. <br /><br />anyhoo, ding dong walla walla bing bong, I'm gone.<br /><br />XMairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-67356878090712028972010-05-12T09:03:00.000-07:002010-05-12T09:08:12.473-07:00MTV Movie Award Nominations.It just goes to show that Teenage girls really do have an influence on everything! <br /><br />BEST MOVIE (voting stays live throughout the 2010 Movie Awards ceremony)<br />Alice In Wonderland<br />Avatar<br />Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<br />The Hangover<br />The Twilight Saga: New Moon<br /><br />BEST FEMALE PERFORMANCE<br /><br />Amanda Seyfried – Dear John<br />Emma Watson – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<br />Kristen Stewart – The Twilight Saga: New Moon<br />Sandra Bullock – The Blind Side<br />Zoe Saldana – Avatar<br /><br />BEST MALE PERFORMANCE<br /><br />Channing Tatum – Dear John<br />Daniel Radcliffe – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<br />Robert Pattinson – The Twilight Saga: New Moon<br />Taylor Lautner – The Twilight Saga: New Moon<br />Zac Efron – 17 Again<br /><br />BEST BREAKOUT STAR<br /><br />Anna Kendrick – Up in the Air<br />Chris Pine – Star Trek<br />Gabourey Sidibe – Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire<br />Logan Lerman – Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief<br />Quinton Aaron – The Blind Side<br />Zach Galifianakis – The Hangover<br /><br />BEST COMEDIC PERFORMANCE<br /><br />Ben Stiller – Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian<br />Bradley Cooper – The Hangover<br />Ryan Reynolds – The Proposal<br />Sandra Bullock – The Proposal<br />Zach Galifianakis – The Hangover<br /><br />BEST VILLAIN<br /><br />Christoph Waltz – Inglourious Basterds<br />Helena Bonham Carter – Alice In Wonderland<br />Ken Jeong – The Hangover<br />Stephen Lang – Avatar<br />Tom Felton – Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince<br /><br />BEST FIGHT<br /><br />Beyoncé Knowles vs. Ali Larter – Obsessed<br />Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber vs. Ryan Reynolds – X-Men Origins: Wolverine<br />Logan Lerman vs. Jake Abel – Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief<br />Robert Downey Jr. vs. Mark Strong – Sherlock Holmes<br />Sam Worthington vs. Stephen Lang – Avatar<br /><br />BEST KISS<br /><br />Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson – The Twilight Saga: New Moon<br />Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning – The Runaways<br />Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds – The Proposal<br />Taylor Swift and Taylor Lautner – Valentine’s Day<br />Zoe Saldana and Sam Worthington – Avatar<br /><br />BEST WTF MOMENT<br /><br />Betty White – The Proposal, Cops a Feel<br />Bill Murray – Zombieland , Bill Murray?! A Zombie?!<br />Isabel Lucas – Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, Unexpected Transformation<br />Ken Jeong – The Hangover , Naked Trunk Surprise<br />Megan Fox – Jennifer’s Body, Vomits a Mysterious Black Ooze<br /><br />GLOBAL SUPERSTAR (New Category)<br /><br />Robert Pattinson<br />Kristen Stewart<br />Taylor Lautner<br />Johnny Depp<br />Daniel Radcliffe<br /><br />BEST SCARED-AS-SH**T PERFORMANCE (New Category)<br /><br />Alison Lohman – Drag Me To Hell<br />Amanda Seyfried – Jennifer’s Body<br />Jesse Eisenberg – Zombieland<br />Katie Featherston – Paranormal Activity<br />Sharlto Copley – District 9<br /><br />BIGGEST BADASS STAR (New Category)<br /><br />Rain<br />Angelina Jolie<br />Channing Tatum<br />Sam Worthington<br />Chris Pine<br /><br /><br />I'm pretty happy with mmost of these. C'mon Bill Murray. (I'm a Zombieland Enthusiast, and I am a little disappointed Emma Stone didn't receive any nominations). <br />Logan Lerman picks up two nods for his role in "Percy Jackson", which I think are well deserved, because he really did encompass the character and he can hold a screen. I see bright things in his future. <br /><br />*Cough* Spider-Man 4 Reboot. He's rumoured to be in talks to play Peter Parker *Cough cough*<br /><br />anyway, If you have a thought, comment, or complaint, soun-off below. God knows I won't be voicing an opinions anywhere but the intenet for a while. *sighs*<br /><br />XMairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-15744771990793175292010-05-10T10:59:00.000-07:002010-05-10T10:59:34.980-07:00Hunger Games: District 12 cast<object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/OY45SaALVV0/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OY45SaALVV0&hl=en_GB&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OY45SaALVV0&hl=en_GB&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br />Oka, this is my attempt at making a Hunger Games casting video. It was finished in finve minutes, as you can tell, while waiting in the library, but you get the gist. <br /><br />Most have scenes from TV shows and films, but I'm too technoloogically challenged to achieve that. <br /><br />Oh well, That's a snippet of Youtube casting, check it out.Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-37475852395607189342010-05-10T06:11:00.000-07:002010-05-10T06:11:27.054-07:00Yeasayer - Madder Red<object style="background-image:url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/VvsHYRzO8_Q/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VvsHYRzO8_Q&hl=en_GB&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VvsHYRzO8_Q&hl=en_GB&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Listen and Love!Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-69100548966154370352010-05-04T13:31:00.000-07:002010-05-09T12:25:59.884-07:00soooooooooooo......I'm having a little bit of writer's block --thank you Leaving Cert,-- so I thought I would amuse myself by posting something avout my slightly new, slightly weird obsession. <br /><br />Drumroll please:<br /><br />It's Youtube Casting!<br /><br />If, like me, You are a youtube addict, You've probably noticed these fanvids --ooh,there's some frequently used, but pretty uncool internet lingo for you-- for your favourite books, tv shows or films that have yet to be cast. <br /><br />Par Exemple, I've done a little bit of reaserch -- (also known as dossing)-- on the internets, and found a few that are not only pretty decent production value, but are actually credited by the authors of the series' themselves! <br /><br />It's just cool to find cast lists, because sometimes they come true. I've seen several that were pretty much bang on the money in someway or another. They introduce you to new up and coming actors and actresses that may be flying below the radar, like Molly Quinn, who I discovered is my perfect Clary for TMI, and also discovered a little show called Catle on the way. That's what you call sa-weet! As in so good, you get two syllables for the price of one. <br /><br />and they tend to have pretty decent soundtracks to boot. <br /><br />so if your ever bored, or just in the mood to sit back and numb your brain, give 'em a shot. You never know, you might like them!<br /><br />By the way, Balls against the Wall, the Kick-Ass sequel, is green-lighted and due to start filming next year for a 2012 release. <br /><br />Boo-- and I'm just gonna say it-- Yah!Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-46600174907900749602010-05-01T07:33:00.000-07:002010-05-01T09:38:53.699-07:003-D or not 3-D? Who knows?I'm wrecked, so what better time than to voice some opinion or other. It always sounds a lot more insane that way, which is just so much more fun!<br /><br />Anyway....<br /><br />I have a new found enemy; 3-D. <br />Shock and/or horror!<br /><br />It's great in theory; you take a film and make it so visually dynamic that the audience can't take their eyes off the screen, therefore lining your pockets with money when the hypntoised compatriots come again and again. <br />That's all well and good. <br /><br />But what happens when the DVD comes out? <br /><br />The thing about 3-D is that yes, it's an experience; but it's also like a bar of chocolate. You taste it, and it's the best thing ever. But then you see it everywhere, taunting you, calling to you like a fog horn, and you give in to temptation, but it never seems to meet your expectations, and you can get a headache afterwords. <br /><br />Okay, maybe that's not an appropriate analogy, because, honestly, who doesn't love chocolate? I suppose I'm thinking in economic terms, and the Law of diminishing marginal utility, where as a consumer consumes an extra unit of a good, eventually a stage will be reached where utility or benifit will begin to decline......<br /><br /><br />Wow, I actually was paying attention.<br /><br />anyway, when you watch a DVD, and the film was released in 3-D, you can actually see where they tried to insert it post op, and to be honest, it's totally distracting. <br />And isn't the point of film to distract you with the story and envelop you into the world, not distract you with flim-flams, doo-dads and zip-zorps!<br /><br />Who knows. <br /><br />what I do know is that James Cameron is an egomaniacal idiot, and I have a pair of size six stilletto waiting in my wardrobe that wants to give him a piece of their mind.<br /><br /><br />That is all.Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8915925200825299388.post-40273654332730929272010-04-30T02:50:00.000-07:002010-04-30T02:53:05.950-07:00TFI :CA countdown<center><embed src="http://www.behindthepulse.com/CountdownTimers/counter/show.swf?clickURL=&clickLABEL=MySpace Countdowns&flashLABEL= &skin=http://www.behindthepulse.com/CountdownTimers/ClockworkTimer.gif&text= &untilColor=16777215&textColor=&datesColor=16777215&year=2010&month=07&day=31&hour=12&minute=0&second=0&x=6&y=77" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="300" height="200" name="countdown" align="middle" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><a href="http://www.theinfernaldevices.com" _fcksavedurl="http://www.theinfernaldevices.com">Visit the Infernal Devices website!</a><small><center>Mairead.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05192321117160840212noreply@blogger.com0