Book Review: Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

Okay. I agonized over this review for a long time, and this is the only way I could figure out how to do it. Herein is contained a review for the book Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. It is written from the point of view of myself, at this current time, to a past me wondering whether or not she should read the book.

Dearest Past Me:

I know you’re ramping up for another NaNoWrimo. You’ve set an impressive goal for yourself (and sh, spoilers, but you’ll make it. Did you think you wouldn’t, with a reward like that?) and you’re just waiting for the clock to turn to November.

And you’re reading the pep talks, excitedly soaking in their knowledge and wisdom. And you found one from Rainbow Rowell. You remember that name, sort of. Last year, didn’t she write a pep talk? Something about her book… ooh. You see the title, and…

Fangirl.

It was about an introverted girl going to college, moving out of her comfort zone, and learning how to get on without her fandom. You were already sort of invested by that time, and just knowing that it was written by a fellow Wrimo— you had to read it.

You look it up, of course. After all, we read very well, and we remember almost everything we read, so it wouldn’t make sense to read something we don’t want to remember, right? And not just having a badly worded, awkward string of words in your brain, but even if it were the best novel ever written, if it upheld values that you do not, you would regret it.

So, you were somewhat disappointed to learn that Fangirl was about a slash writer. ‘Ah well’, you said. ‘I didn’t need to read it anyway.’ But you’d wanted to.

You moved on, achieved your goal (and if it was harder than it should have been, it was entirely your own fault for procrastinating). Then you piddled around in December, and somehow or another again found Fangirl.

You sighed and ordered it from the library, knowing you’d regret it if you didn’t. You were also probably procrastinating on editing your novel, come to think of it.

So you settled in to read it, and found that you should have anticipated the language right of the bat. Honestly, you should have seen it coming. College, I-want-to-be-cool, it should have been apparent. But it wasn’t too bad, so you continued. You found that, as expected, you quickly identified with Cath, the main character, as she set up her desk and fandom posters and laptop, and sitting there was relaxed in this new environment. You’d done much the same thing when you house-sat, several months ago.

You loved the little inserts of the (fictional) Simon Snow books. You smiled at Cath’s rather extensive introversion. You wanted her to succeed, to break out of her shell. You loved the little excerpts of the fics she was writing (though, of course, you felt awkward when it was even just a little bit slashy). You really wanted her to succeed in her Fiction Writing class.

You didn’t really like the one character, but you knew she had to be there to forcibly break Cath out of her shell if need be. Ah, she needed it, so it happened. And then you began to worry, when it seemed the focus of Cath’s growing up and into herself was going to involve boys. ‘Should have known’, you said to yourself, eyeing the modern setting with distrust. But really, what do you know about it? You’d never been in love or dated (we find the concept too much like preparation for divorce to even want to), so maybe this was normal. This whole thing was like an entirely different culture.

You settled in, and found yourself cheering on Cath. You felt for these characters, and you lived along with them, and you only wished they did not make the mistakes they made. You knew it made them more realistic, but still… During one scene, you grinned like a madwoman and whispered, ‘Never let a shipper write’, but then took a look at yourself and your huge smile and amended your statement. “Always let a shipper write.’

And then… ah, but you should have seen it coming, and maybe you did. You realized college was famous for several things. Partying and… land, we’re still too shy to say it. “You know”. Not that it was explicit or anything, but there was still the fact that it was there, and that Cath and her friends viewed it as normal and not anything to get worked up over. You didn’t like that. You especially didn’t like how they—and it hurt to think that maybe most of your peers— viewed virginity as something to lose. Ah, we still don’t like that.

No, and by the time the ending rolled around, you were incredibly conflicted. On the one hand, the ‘just-viewing-as-a-fellow-author’ hand, the book was wonderful. It was well-written, the character arcs were believable and more importantly gripping, the plot moved forward just as it should, and everything in this vein made Fangirl a wonderful book.

But on the other hand, the Christian hand, the one where we review books and movies with regard to the morals they uphold— ah, on that hand, Fangirl falls short. And we’ve spent over a week thinking about it and Pointedly Not Writing a Review About It, and just spent most of the free time this day held hashing out several versions of a review, until we hit upon the brilliant idea to write a letter to our past self. And all we can say, really, is—

Write your own.

You don’t need to read it, and you probably shouldn’t. It’s not a bad book, but it’s so maddeningly gray and the line is so infuriatingly blurred that you’ll still be able to say, with a mind on Paul’s verse and the guidelines there (true, pure, lovely, honorable, of good report, etc), that… oh, we can’t even tell you to look it up on Wikipedia. This book is driving you crazy right now, and reading the above review it occurs to me that you’ll still want to read it. You’ll have to, by now. It’s so…accurate, in how it portrays a fangirl. But it’s just the whole dating thing that you still can’t get over. The fact that she didn’t wait, even though he seemed to be one to wait for. He was there for her when she needed him to be, and…

I still don’t know.

But, past me…

Know that it is going to be a small culture shock. Know that she holds a different worldview than you. Know that you and she are similar. Know that you don’t need to read it. Know that, if you do read it, the smiling moments where the author understands the fandom, understands fanfiction like you don’t, the moments where Cath and Spoiler are interacting and setting off your shipping detector and everything is fluffiness, know that those moments are barely making up for the moments where she makes poor decisions on the spur of the moment, and where that is left open to interpretation by the author as good or bad (though she does let Cath’s mind tell her that her logic is miserably flawed). Know that you still don’t know what to think about this. Again.

Write your own.

Really. A Christian fangirl’s struggles…your struggles…come on. Next November, you should give that back to your fandoms. Get to know yourself a bit more.

But regarding Fangirl… aha. I’ve got it.

I wish I could recommend it to you. I really do. But I can’t, not wholeheartedly, even though I still want to. Land, but how she understands us… I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it. For better or for worse, only part of me (a strong part, the one that has a fanfiction.net account and wants to learn how to play I Am the Doctor on piano and discovered writing motivation from Hebrews) recommends it.

I just want you to know that.

--Sincerely, Future You

(Still not entirely sure about this, but it's bugging me enough that I need to get it out. Also not sure why my inner editor will only review books in second person or whatever you call that...)

The Royal Ranger

So this is a review, of sorts—no spoilers, promise— of the Ranger’s Apprentice book 12, The Royal Ranger. It… I don’t know if you’ve read them. You should. If you haven’t, go out and get the first one, The Ruins of Gorlan. Then the next eleven. Really. I can whole-heartedly recommend them. Go out. Read them.

If you have— if you’ve read the ten books, you were probably ecstatic when you found out about the eleventh.

And then, you found out John Flanagan was writing a twelfth book.

A twelfth book.

You were probably so excited, so ready to dive back into this world, to reunite with the characters you’d grown to love.

And then you discovered, when he released the first chapter a few months ago, that John Flanagan had apparently taken cues from people like Steven Moffat and Rick Riordan and Bruno Heller and had decided to do something unspeakably evil and horrible to our dear Will (the main character of the series). You were probably furious. You probably wanted to shower Will in coffee and wrap him up in hugs and fluffiness while you fixed everything.

But…

It seemed to fit, really. Ranger’s Apprentice has never been a light, fluffy, happy and bright series. What with Will in Skandia, or Arridi, or Halt in Hibernia… you knew that this was going to be a rather bumpy ride when you picked up the next book.

But they always, always, came through. The Rangers practice until they never get it wrong, and you knew that even if it seemed hopeless, it wasn’t. They never failed. And the books were always all right. Will was unflappably cheerful, even when he was dying, and Halt could be relied upon for snarky humor and hard steely eyes striking terror into the hearts of wrongdoers, and Horace…dear Horace. Oh, they wouldn’t have gotten very far at all without Horace. Or their horses. You knew you could rely on all of them.

You knew you could count on the author who had brought them to life.

So, carefully, desperately, you either bought or ordered the book through the library because you live in a small town and the bookstores didn’t have it because you don’t have a proper bookstore and you waited impatiently until it finally arrived and you bribed your sister with doing dishes so you could read it first, and you sat down to read it.

And it didn’t disappoint. You’d had time to sort of at least kind of come to terms with Chapter One, but it still stabbed at you and you turned the page and hoped to high heaven that Flanagan would make everything all right.

And to your absolute surprise, page 26 made you smile. “Thank you, Jenny,” you thought, and you continued. Page 28, and you laughed. You were laughing, and smiling, and your sister noted this. You stared at the book in amazement, remembering those awful months of having nothing to go on but Chapter One and how everything was very much not okay and yet here you are, with a Ranger’s Apprentice book, grinning at the clever Ranger witticisms and cheering the sarcastic horses on.

(I mean that. Both the sarcastic horses and cheering them on.)

It was exactly what should happen. You tore through the book, and this new apprentice made you smile as you remembered wittle baby Will going through the same things and you cheered everyone on and they surged ahead.

You finished the book, and you were grinning widely and smiling happily and confidently, and you went upstairs and rejoined the world. “It was everything a Ranger’s Apprentice book should be,” you informed your sister.

“Danger?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Halt?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Horses?”

“Definitely!”

And you were beaming, and you thought that it was okay. This ending, this twelfth and final book, it was okay.

…

Because he’s going to start another series, right? Not over? Right? There should be a new series, Rangers Apprentice: The Next Generation or something. He can do that, right? Because this wasn’t quite like Book 10, wrapping everything up, or Book 11, tying loose ends and filling in holes. It was… something new. It felt more like a passing of the torch than anything.

Please, John Flanagan? Pretty please? With coffee?

(so basically, fellow Rangers, don’t be afraid to pick up this book. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. I’m not spoiling anything, but it’s absolutely all right. Honestly. What did you think, that Will would be permanently struck down by something? Psh. It’s like you don’t even know him.)

A Verse For the Christian Wrimos

I have recently--actually, not that recently at all but I am a procrastinator but I am also doing NaNo so I have an excuse for not getting on here so hush--'recently' come across a verse that I found applied to writing, life in general, and our spiritual walk with God.

I have, in the course of my life, come across this verse, but had never really read it in the all-encompassing 'everything is NaNoWriMo' glasses we wrimos tend to wear in November. so I had never applied it to writing, but it fits. Really well.

(Oh look at that I dated it because it was from a Bible study...on the 14th. yeah, procrastination can be blamed for you not having it. especially since I wasn't even writing Part 2 yet so...*shakes head despairingly at self* anyway here we go)

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

(Hebrews 12:1-2)

You see? Totally a writing verse. And I never knew... (though I have thought of God as the infallible, perfectly orchestrating Author before, which was from this verse, I guess)

Let me break it down for you. 'Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses' equals, pretty much, the vast number of people we have told about our ambitious writing endeavor, which is, as some of you might not know though probably do if you saw my older posts, the goal of writing a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. And, as we have told everyone we know, pretty much, that we are doing this, they get turned from the ambiguous 'friends and family' into 'guilt monkeys who will probably stare at you in accusatory glances if you should fail'. yeah. Having the lot of you out there, knowing we are doing this, means a lot to us. Really. Without the threat of embarrassment hanging over us, many of us would never finish.

Not that we're going to let you read it immediately, of course.

anyway. next part. 'let us lay aside every weight'--this translates to 'everything that distracts us from writing', which can be anything from the Internet in general, to movies and tv shows (Behold my impressive self-control: I have not watched the Doctor Who's 50th Anniversary special yet, and not only because my sister would kill me if I watched it without her-- I am writing, and my self-imposed goal is not to watch any of these things while doing so. after all, if you have time to watch an episode, you have time to write, and if you have time to write, you need to write.), to books, to lounging about on the sofa thinking about writing. Doesn't count. Lay aside every weight which ensnares us.

'And let us run with endurance'-- Every day, each of the 30 in November (or the 6 at the beginning and the last 15 if you did what I did which I do not recommend), you sit down at that computer and you write. If you miss a day (I have! I missed one! Entirely my own fault but I needed to be there to add helpful facts that greatly increased the enjoyment of my father when he watched the Hobbit for the first time. but yeah. my own fault. could have gotten up earlier and written.), if you miss a day you make it up. You run with endurance. Keep writing.

(hey, what are you doing here if you should be writing?)

'looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith'-- this stretches the parallels a bit, gets into more of 'the actual intent of the verse', but here we go. When we set out to do something, we find who else has done it, and finished, and use them as examples. For noveling, it's looking at others who have done the same and listening to their advice. (the pep talks given by the folks at NaNo are wonderful, wonderful things of joy and happiness and inspiration and encouragement. shout-out over.) For living the Christian life, it's watching what He did and doing that. The old saying 'what would Jesus do' is still applicable, though it should really be 'what did Jesus do', since... it really seems backwards to think of the Creator of the universe as someone you can pretend to know, in and out, well enough to guess what He would do in any given situation. Sort of. This is confusing. I'm suffering from sleeplessness; it's NaNo. sorry. um...yeah. utilize examples given.

'who for the joy'-- Why are we doing NaNo? We are writing a novel. In 30 days, we want to be able to look at our finished novel and say "I wrote a book." And because we can, we are going to be able to say "I wrote a book in thirty days." This is the goal we are aiming for, the glorious overconfidence given by our egos fueling our fingers as we pound away at our poor keyboards, each word getting us closer to that wonderful 50,000 mark, the treasure at the end of the quest, the goalpost we're running for.

Come November 30th, I will be able to say, and hope you will be able to say with me, "I am a writer. I write books. I wrote a book in thirty days."

For all the Whovians

I don't know how many of you read this or will but in the interest of re-giving the cheer and smiles and giggles and happy flailing I have just indulged in, I bring you:

A preview for the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special.
(co-starring DAVID TENNANT AS THE TENTH DOCTOR)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zn9Ss9rZMcU

(sorry, couldn't figure out how to stick the video in the post. but still. ugh spoilers I wish to gush because...

well here. forget spoilers.)

I give you...

Ten in a fez.

I repeat.

The Tenth Doctor in a fez.

David Tennant in a fez.

IT'S THE TENTH DOCTOR IN A FEZ

TEN

FEZ

HE LOOKS RIDICULOUS

I LOOKED MORE RIDICULOUS FLAILING AND GIGGLING

I DON'T CARE

THE TENTH DOCTOR IS WEARING A FEZ!

*clears throat*

Sorry about that. I needed to vent.

*coughs to disguise ear-to-ear grin*

A very, very, special anniversary is coming up. Stay tuned. It's going to be a blast.

*skips away, chanting 'Ten in a fez'*

*posts in the semi-delirious midnight state known to some as 'night-blogging' and doesn't care*  

I miss tumblr

I miss the gifs, (hard g as in golf no matter what they say) I miss the lingo (it's true, you can't tell a tumblr joke in real life--no one gets it), I miss the recurring posts, I miss being able to freak out over something (the Mentalist...even though I didn't follow anyone who watched it, I don't think...but Once Upon a Time, definitely, and Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, and--and the trailers for things and i even miss those jerks who keep posting sad things about the future fate of Fili and Kili and I miss the analytical minds of my dear fellow fans, scrutinizing every frame of a gif to determine a character's motivation and the actor's prowess... though I've done a bit myself here:

Notice how smoothly and softly Loki's cape sweeps after him? It just gently waves after--and boom his legs are kicking Thor in the chest, hard, not just a little, that is all the force he possesses because he's furious and he is lashing out at the thing which has hurt him which is his brother, but if you were to focus on what you could see, the visible-ness of his cape, you'd miss the coiled spring about to jump at you. It's a metaphor for Loki himself, and probably completely unintentional.
also what did Thor think he was going to do. that just occurred to me. hm. Well, you can see Thor ready to--hm. Maybe Thor thought Loki was going to jump up, get a height advantage, and he was aiming for the staff but he didn't count on just how furious Loki is.

See. I miss that. I miss being able to do that with others.
I guess mostly what I miss are my fellow tumblers. the camaraderie of people who have foolishly let such characters as the ones you see above into their hearts and lives and hold on to them lovingly.
Also, I miss the Squire's Tales, as I'm not reading any more of the books without being able to liveblog my reaction to it. They aren't the same, I discovered, without the other two (three? there was a new one recently...well recently when I left, anyway) there to laugh as Gerald Morris breaks my heart, stitches it back together, hits my chest, but magically heals the whole thing and leaves me eagerly waiting for the next book.

Man, I miss tumblr. I've got 55 days...well, 54 now, I think, no more like 55. til after Christmas when I know who the next Doctor is. I shall be regulating my time there, but still. I remember that post that goes around every so often, 'what if logos told the truth', you know, with Youtube being FunnyCatVideos, etc, and tumblr being 'home'. I guess it's really true.

Also I know probably all of you who even read this blog have no idea what I'm talking about but I need to rant. That's what blogs are for, I guess. Also NaNo is about to start and I'm excited for that and killing the hour before...wait why am I typing.
Oops.

So. Um.
Have fun, people, if any of you are native tumblers hello and say hi to the blue for me, if you aren't I'm not necessarily recommending you get one but I am so *shrug*. Also, to the native tumblers, I would like to express my sympathy...my empathy, rather, as I feel it same as you, to the onslaught of feels November is about to produce.

Also.
I get to see Thor: The Dark World in 7 days. I am happy about this. Land,  I miss tumblr.

(and I can't figure out if that's good or bad. mostly I miss the people, so that's good, right? but then there's the fascinating cast of life ruiners grinning devilishly from their TV shows and movies that I also miss. Or do I miss other people's reactions to them and the fact that they're rather similar to mine? I'm confused. I miss tumblr.)

National Novel Writing Month 2013

It's nearly November, which is, as the title suggests, National Novel Writing Month, commonly abbreviated to NaNoWriMo.

NaNo, for those who don't know, is a contest--if one could use that word--wherein you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. 30 days for 50,000 words. (some crazy people get it done in 3 days. I'm not one of them.) It is a month of wild abandon, building worlds, making characters and killing them off, bringing them back, sending in plot ninjas to increase your wordcount, valiantly fending off plot bunnies, sending your main character to the top of a volcano and back just because you can, and other such reckless creative energy.

It is so much fun.

It takes you from saying "I want to write a novel" to "I have written a novel" (at least...if you can manage to edit it...but that's for December. and January.) and inspires confidence, no matter if you do or do not reach the goal of 50,000 words. If you write two chapters, two paragraphs, two sentences--that is more than you had before, more than existed in the world before. They went from being in your head to on paper (or computer screen, yes, but paper is the traditional way of thinking of it. You can write it out, if you want).

There are rules, and there are sticklers for them, but NaNo is about creativity more than rules, and you can bend them however you like. Don't want to write 50k? Then don't. Want to write two novels? Write them. Writing nonfiction? Fanfiction? Scripts? Plays? Whatever you do, it is probably more than you have done and it is going to be a blast.

I personally am going to try to write my entire novel within the first 6 days of November. (So as to reward myself with going to see Thor: The Dark World on the 7th when I finish. Christopher Eccleston makes one brilliant word count reward, what can I say.) I'm furiously scribbling thoughts and sketching out characters and building my universe and figuring out how things work there and envisioning sequels and waiting for midnight, October 31st, to begin writing. Or is that midnight, November 1st? That night. As soon as I can begin. That's when I'm going to type out my story and see how fast my fingers can truly fly.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

The official website can be found here: http://nanowrimo.org/

Happy First Day of Fall

Hello! It's officially Fall and--heh. Been a while, yeah?
What can I say, tumblr is addictive?
Well I've given it up for a few months (several reasons, two of which are spoilers and it was eating my life so prolonged absence to teach myself that I don't need it). And I was going to have more posts, but things happened and stuff.

So let's write about summer, shall we?
Summer activities, or one in particular:

Leigh Lake.

Bit hard to tell from my pictures (beg pardon, but in my defense you can't take pictures that show what you see when you're there) but this is looking past the edge of the lake. That bright green grass/bushes area there on the left, just past that the trail heads steeply down. It's like...the lake is really really cool. It's like a bowl set up in the top of the mountain and filled with gorgeous, stunning blue water.

This is looking the other way. See, snow. In August. (or July? ...oh land, when was this...) July. end of July. But either way, it's gorgeous.

Also very high up.

Brutal trail.

(only) a couple miles, possibly one and a half, but still. Steep trail.

And for Miss Hi-I-Sit-Around-All-Day-And-Never-Exercise, it was incredibly hard. Eye opening, to be sure. I am woefully out of shape, and this trail...
couldn't have gone more than a quarter mile and I was almost ready to quit. In fact, if it hadn't been for the friends I went with, I would have. Forget the nagging voice in your head saying "You know you'll regret it if you quit, come on you love the outdoors, just imagine how pretty it is up there--"

(this was maybe a mile and a quarter up the trail, at this beautiful little waterfall from the lake, but see how you're eye level with those mountains across the way? those are the mountains you squint at from the valley floor and think 'wow, that's a long way up') I didn't get many pictures of the trail because I was busy breathing (honestly--it helps. Big breaths. don't talk. Etc etc.).

But I was about ready to head back down and wait in the van for the rest of the girls. I had a book, I would be fine...but my friends helped me. A lot. (thank you, friends. Due to Internet paranoia I name no names but you know who you are) We focused on one end of a switchback and rested there for ten seconds and repeated.

And I got to thinking about spiritual journeys and things. This trail was a lot like life. You know, you know it's going to be good once you get up there, but--do you really have to? Is it mandatory that you climb this mountain? Can't you just stay where you are? There's pictures, isn't there? I felt like either my inner motivational voice (cousin of the Inner Editor? Hm...) or God (difficult to tell sometimes, you know?) was saying, "Come on. Just a bit further. Look, stop by this stump here. Rest a bit. Drink water. You won't make it without your water. Breathe. Good. Come on. It's beautiful up here, I promise. There you go. Just a bit further."

Bit like life, I think. Spiritual, Christian life. You won't get far without water (God's Word), it's very hard to make it without breathing (God Himself), and you need friends to help you along the way.

And it was worth it.
That lake, being up that high, oh, it was beautiful.
Certainly worth training myself so as to make the next time easier.