Work Of The Day: Chbosky

So, this is a little change of pace. Normally, I bore you all with Old English works. Yet, today I'm posting something a little more contemporary: The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. Have you read it? Perhaps you've seen the movie? Yes, the one with Harmione. Btw, her name is Emma Watson, and you should look into her some more because she's a phenomenal person. But anyways, if you haven't read it, then as my favorite Lit Professor says, "There's still time." It's not long, and it's a very easy read. It'll change you, in a good way, of course. 

Now, I could put literally a hundred things I love in this book down, but I'll do my favorite. When I read this part, goose-bumps rose on my arms. It's like the author knows what's in your heart, your feelings. There's things you experience, and yet, you can't put them into words, because it's more of a feeling. Yet, Stephen Chbosky, slams it right into your gut, and aha! there it is! Yes, you know exactly what the character is feeling because you've been there. 

Okay, I can ramble on forever about this. So here it is:

“Because I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen. And there are people who forget what it’s like to be sixteen when they turn seventeen. I know these will all be stories some day, and our pictures will become old photographs. We all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now, these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here, and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.”
                                       

Work Of The Day: Milton

I chose this sonnet because Milton was blind, and here he states how he dreamed of his late wife, and although he couldn't see her face in his dream--which he had never seen her face--she was the sight of love, sweetness, and goodness. Now, that's true love right there. And then the last line will just strike you right in the heart, especially if you're a literature lover like myself, which I assume you are since you're here reading this. He says "day brought back my night" which may seem confusing, but remember he was blind, and so the only time he could see was when he dreamed. When the day came, he went back to darkness--night. Ah! Beautiful.

Sonnet 23: Methought I saw my late espoused saint

BY JOHN MILTON

Methought I saw my late espoused saint

       Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,

       Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,

       Rescu'd from death by force, though pale and faint.

Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint

       Purification in the old Law did save,

       And such as yet once more I trust to have

       Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,

Came vested all in white, pure as her mind;

       Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight

       Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd

So clear as in no face with more delight.

       But Oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd,

       I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

Work Of The Day: Marlowe

Ready for chills?

This is From Christopher Marlowe's play The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus

You should read it.

But if you haven't here's a little recap: Dr. Faustus wants to sell his soul to the devil, and here he is having a conversation with one of the devil's demons.

“FAUSTUS: Where are you damn’d?
MEPHISTOPHILIS: In hell.
FAUSTUS: How comes it, then, that thou art out of hell?
MEPHISTOPHILIS: Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it:” 
― Christopher Marlowe, Doctor Faustus

Work Of The Day: Poe

Happy Halloween!

Because it's Halloween, I chose a perfect poem for the day. Of course it's going to be one of Poe's. 

Please enjoy. Also, have a fun, but safe Halloween!

Annabel Lee

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

It was many and many a year ago,

   In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

   By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

   I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

   My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

   And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

   In her sepulchre there by the sea—

   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Work Of The Day: Donne

Hello.
Bren here.
I realize I have been neglectful of my blog/twitter/facebook page. And recently, in my English Lit class, I've been exposed to all these great poets and writers. Chaucer, Mawlowe, Dunne. These are just a few. And I've been enlightened and inspired, and because of that I've been annoying everyone around me because it's all I'm talking about. So, I realized, why am I bombarding the people around me who don't appreciate the work as much as I do? Hello! I need to reach out to my fellow writers and literature lovers who are online!

So, I'd like to say I want to do a "Work of the day" (First off, I say "work" because it may be a poem, sonnet, play, or just a sentence) that inspires me and I want to share it. Also, I'm gonna try to do it everyday but between school, work, and everyday life, it might be once a week, maybe twice. We'll see.

And if the poem is hard to understand, please look it up and read more into it, because I promise you, it's worth it. Don't let the old language be a barrier to far greater things!

Here is a love poem that is way more than a love poem, and quite possibly, the best love poem.

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning

BY JOHN DONNE

As virtuous men pass mildly away,

   And whisper to their souls to go,

Whilst some of their sad friends do say

   The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,

   No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;

'Twere profanation of our joys

   To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,

   Men reckon what it did, and meant;

But trepidation of the spheres,

   Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love

   (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit

Absence, because it doth remove

   Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,

   That our selves know not what it is,

Inter-assured of the mind,

   Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,

   Though I must go, endure not yet

A breach, but an expansion,

   Like gold to airy thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so

   As stiff twin compasses are two;

Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show

   To move, but doth, if the other do.

And though it in the center sit,

   Yet when the other far doth roam,

It leans and hearkens after it,

   And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

   Like th' other foot, obliquely run;

Thy firmness makes my circle just,

   And makes me end where I begun.

How to write a book

So, this is for sure the first thing you google when you decide you're going to try and write and book. And hopefully, google brings up this post. And hopefully, this post helps you. 

Here's the secret to writing a book:

There is no write way. ( haha! get it? Write way...right way...never mind)

Also, there is no wrong way.

So, really, you can't mess it up.

In all seriousness though, (yes, I used that word) everyone, as in authors, write their books in different ways, and you just have to find which is the best way for you. Okay, that's kind of crappy advice. You're still at square one. So, here's some tips and different ways you can start.

First, how do you get an idea? This, no one can really tell you. Ideas aren't something you can force. They're more of a creative flow that forces its way into your mind. Ideas can come from day dreaming, literally just dreaming, being aspired by music, movies, tv, stories, really anything. But I'm assuming if you're online looking at how to write a book, chances are you already have an idea, you just don't know how to execute it. 

Alright, so let's explore some ways to write your ideas down in a coherent way.

First, brainstorm. Brainstorm the crap out of your mind. Picture the setting, the characters, the scenes, the smells. Brainstorm until you're literally shaking with excitement to bring your story alive. Then... it's time to write.

Outlining- This way is recommended a lot, and it's organized and simple. If you ever took an English class in your life, then you have the gist down. Basically, you take all the elements of your story and categorizes them until you have a pretty and neat outline from beginning to end of your book. You will need to research anything you're unsure of, organize your plot, finalize your conflict...all that good stuff.

Scene by scene- This is where you have a scene in your head, so you write it down. Another scene comes to you, so you also write it down. Then when you feel like it's time, you connect the scenes, and distribute them in order, from beginning to end. The organization can all be done at the end, or throughout. 

Just write- Start at the beginning and write to the finish. Do research when it's needed, and organize throughout.

Now, there are so many way to write a book. So many! But these are kind of the basics, and they're also the ones I use. Depending on the book, each one may work better. Or, to be realistic, using all three works the best. But this is just a wallflower's opinion.

Good luck!