**Spoiler warning for discussion of events taking place in the Hunger Games trilogy and parts of Harry Potter. Consider yourself duly warned. **
I recently finished the third book in the Hunger Games trilogy, Mockingjay. I put it off for quite some time anticipating the darkness of the material. I have never shied away from a well written drama but there are times when I have enough angst in my life that I don’t need to invite imaginary angst in as well. After seeing HG in movies, however, I knew I had to finish their story no matter how much it hurt.
So I did. It was hard at times, the war so vivid and the pain of the characters so…recognizable. I’m sure I will sound like every other fangirl on the internet when I say that I empathized with Katniss’ mental challenges and identified with her on a potentially unnerving level. Despite all the disaster, I found myself in a state of deep satisfaction.
“Hey kid…you ever dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight?”
Make no mistake; writing can be intimidating. Blogging is not an entirely natural phenomenon for me, being an individual who values her privacy. I do, however, love and need to write so, occasionally, I fight my inclinations toward reticence and unleash my word-horde, as Beowulf would have it.
Today, my composure has been shaken by something as unassuming as a sentence prompt. In the attempt to jog my mind into action, it has released a river of feelings I have hoped to bury for good. I do not wish to think about this event, on a Friday of all days at the end of a very long week. Even now my mind is screaming at me, begging me not to post this. Why can’t I write about revisiting old blog posts and cringing, or raging against Chris Brown, or gushing about how much I love Fringe and/or John Noble?
Perhaps it is time to exorcise this ghost, once and for all.
A while back, I blogged about how an image of Kristen Stewart as Snow White in armor from the upcoming Snow White and the Huntsman raised my hackles. I’m not convinced I fully articulated my point, which meandered back and forth between defending Disney princesses, supporting the actualized woman warrior, and supporting a woman’s right to a more traditional (read: archaic and sexist) lifestyle. I think the point I wanted to make was about the contrived nature of this version of femininity and why it’s not a solution to the problem of well-rounded female characterization.
In my original post, I was mystified: “My first impression was one of disdain; the last time I checked, Snow White was not Joan of Arc. I don’t remember her having any martial inclinations or talents nor the socio-economic status to make such a transformation possible. The last time I checked, her enemy was one vain witch, not an entire army.
My second impression was one of conflict: I should be more supportive of this …modern expression of female agency. Shouldn’t a Snow White who can wield a broadsword be more awesomely great than one who prefers to spend her time cleaning up after 7 slovenly men before she gets food poisoning and largely disappears from the narrative?
An old Cherokee told his grandson, “My son, there is a battle between two ‘wolves’ inside us all. One is Evil – It is anger, hatred, envy, jealousy, greed, and arrogance. The other is Good – It is peace, love, hope, humility, compassion, and faith.”
The grandson thought about this for a while and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
Last night, I said goodbye to an old friend. A friend who used to burn the midnight oil with me while the rest of the world slept. A friend who got me through some of the best and worst times of the so-called “best years of my life”. A friend who rarely failed me, even under intense pressure. That, my friends, was my 2000 Sony VAIO, now formatted and soon to be laid to rest in the recycled heaven of Best Buy.
I was upstairs in the office cleaning out the detritus of years and years of fastidious, almost compulsive recordkeeping, when I stubbed my toe on a heavy briefcase under the desk. Lo and behold! My fully loaded, 13 G C: drive, 40G D: drive (hush, you; that power was unheard of back then), 50M of RAM laptop gazed back at me, complete with Catwoman sticker on the lid. Continue reading
As a writer, there are days where you feel like you should write something ponderous and important that reveals something new and useful about life and human nature. We yearn to be contributors to life, to make an impact on this vast universe through our words and insight.
Some days it works.
Other days — days like today — words feel limp and hollow, devoid of substance and worth in the face of so much worldly chaos. For those days, there’s but one thing to do: Keep Calm and Put the Kettle On. Continue reading