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by booksoverlookedblog

We Need to To Talk About J.K. Rowling

Trans Peer Support Lifeline (US): 877-565-8860
Mermaids Helpline (UK): 0844 334 0550

Before reading: If you’re not already aware of the controversy surrounding JK Rowling, I recommend looking up some of it to contextualize this post. This article is the most up-to-date one I’ve found.

I love Harry Potter. The book series has influenced my life in so many ways. It was a place to escape to during hard times, it gave me deeper bonds with my friends, and set my imagination ablaze. I grew up as the characters did. Shortly after my fifteenth birthday, I remember holding the recently-published Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in my hands and thinking, with slight awe, about how we were both now 15. To say that this series has meant a lot to me is an understatement.

I was pretty disappointed when it came to The Cursed Child, and only read it once. This is pretty telling for me–I knew the main series’s books so well that I could tell which lines of dialogue in the films had been lifted straight from the novels. I stopped following much of the Wizarding World updates after The Cursed Child. I didn’t see either of the Fantastic Beasts movies, even though that was a part of the Harry Potter universe I was always interested in. At that point I was tired of the expanded universe. Eventually, I just stopped caring about what J.K. Rowling had to say about the series. It was great for a time. I could enjoy the books and the universe in my own way, and not have to be bothered when Rowling said things like “wizards used to poop anywhere they wanted” and “Harry Potter has ED”.

Yes, these are two real things that Rowling said.

Then something changed. While discussing Harry Potter at the beginning of the year, one of my friends told me that J.K. Rowling was a TERF – a trans-exclusionary radical feminist. I didn’t believe it at first. Rowling not only wrote my childhood, but at the time, I thought she was an LGBTQAI+ advocate. She’s donated hundreds of millions of dollars to charity, including charities for human rights. I did some digging, and found, much to my disappointment, that my friend appeared to be right. After I read Rowling’s tweet about Maya Forstater, I had hoped that it was a mistake or misunderstanding, and that Rowling would offer some kind of apology. I wanted to continue to like this author that I’d previously admired so much.

Instead, Rowling doubled-down on her transphobic beliefs in a multi-thousand word essay, confirming what so many of her fans already knew. I’m not going to re-hash everything she said on Twitter and in this essay; by the time you read this, there will already be a million think pieces online that can give you the history of Rowling’s downfall better than I can. But I am going to say that I feel hurt, disappointed, and betrayed by this author I once loved. If I feel this way, I can’t begin imagine how trans and non-binary Harry Potter fans feel.

I want to use this post as a way to get some thoughts down on something that I, and probably many others, have been grappling with. That is, separating the art from the artist.

This didn’t used to be something I worried too much about. Chik-fil-a hates gay people? Fine, I won’t spend my money there. Hobby Lobby denies medication to its employees and its founder loots artifacts from the Middle-East? Good thing Michael’s is just down the street, and not entirely despicable. It used to be easy to not support celebrities or businesses that I didn’t agree with.

Of course, nothing stays that simple. One of the first times I really had to make a choice to not support an artist happened to me a couple years ago. My sister and I both love the show The Office, and we exchange mix CDs for Christmas every year. Yes, mix CDs, because we want to pretend it’s still 2005. Two years ago, I decided to make her an Office themed CD. I included the most prominent songs from the show, even finishing it with Hunter’s infamous “That One Night”. But I encountered a dilemma when it came to including “Forever” by Chris Brown. It’s a catchy song, and it plays during one of the most iconic and heartwarming scenes in the show.

On one hand, $1.29 for a song is such an insignificant amount of money that it would make no difference to Chris Brown’s success or wealth. On the other, Chris Brown has a history of assaulting multiple women, most famously Rihanna (who he then said provoked him into hitting her). In the end, I decided not to buy the song. I couldn’t justify supporting this abusive singer, even in a minimal way. It went against everything I stood for.

Things are easy to get cluttered. Should I still listen to Michael Jackson’s songs if I bought them years ago? Is it ethical to buy from Amazon, knowing how terribly its workers are treated?

Should I read The Ickabog?

I wanted to when it was first announced. It was originally published for free online, and I’ve heard really good things about it. But I couldn’t forget it was written by a TERF.

No, I eventually decided. Even if it was free to read online, I didn’t want to give Rowling any more page views than she already had.

I obviously can’t speak for every Harry Potter fan who feels betrayed by Rowling’s hurtful beliefs. It’s more of a struggle than I would have imagined for me to accept that someone I admired can hold such hateful beliefs. This was compounded for me when I took her philanthropy into account.

In psychology, there’s something known as schemas. Schemas are mental ways that we categorize the world. For example, “dog, cat, bird” could be in a schema for pets, animals, or maybe even, “things that have bitten me”.

When we encounter new information, we have to create a new schema for it, or expand an existing schema for the new information. For example, we might put “bird” in the schema of “things that fly”. Then, after seeing an airplane, our “things that fly” schema now needs to include airplanes. People, however, aren’t so easy to categorize. It’s very difficult to change our schemas when it comes to both complex concepts, and things that are firmly set in your mind.

We like to put people in boxes that are simple to categorize and explain. This is one of the reasons why it’s so easy to fall into stereotyping others. In general, I would put a TERF in the “bad people” schema, a philanthropist in the “good people” schema, and a favorite author in the “people I admire” schema. The problem for me – and, perhaps, many people – is that JK Rowling has become harder to define.

I can’t ignore that she is using her considerable platform and online presence to spread false and harmful information about trans people and share her transphobia. On the other hand, I also can’t forget what the Harry Potter books mean to me.

In the end, I decided that I will not consume any more Harry Potter media than I already have. I’ve unfollowed Rowling on all my social media platforms. I won’t be supporting anything that J.K. Rowling puts out in the future, nor will I visit the Harry Potter theme park again (which doesn’t sound like a huge sacrifice, but I only live 3 hours away and could go). Even when it comes to recommending books for kids, Percy Jackson or Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children are just as much fun as Harry Potter. And there will be a certain amount of guilt when I say what my Hogwarts house is.

And yet, I will always love the books.

If you’re a Harry Potter fan, you already know that Rowling being a TERF goes against everything that Harry Potter is about. It’s a story about how love is the greatest weapon we have, and that your real family and home may not be the one you’re born into. It’s a story that says however you’re born – poor, rich, Muggleborn – doesn’t determine the person you’ll be.

I grew up with these, and they grew up with me. The values at the core of the Harry Potter series: love, bravery, friendship, have never dimmed for me, even if the author has forgotten about them. These books will always be a big part of my life, and I can’t give that up entirely.

Of course, this is just the decision I have come to. This is something every Harry Potter fan has to figure out on their own. It’s okay if you can’t overlook Rowling’s transphobia, and give up on her and her work entirely. It’s okay if you’ve struggled with this. It’s okay to get rid of all your Harry Potter stuff.

If you do continue to support Rowling’s work, please think critically about what you are supporting and endorsing.

Remember that that greatest weapon we have against evil is love.

Trans women are women.
Trans men are men.
Trans rights are human rights.

If you want to help in the fight for the rights, safety, and health of trans people, please consider donating to a non-profit organization that supports trans people.

National Center for Transgender Equality (US)
Trans Lifeline
The Transgender Law Center
The Trevor Project
Mermaids (UK)

p.s., I’m not saying that you should donate and have the thank you note sent to JK Rowling’s publisher at:

J.K. Rowling
c/o Bloomsbury Publishing
PLC50 Bedford Square
London WC1B 3DP
United Kingdom

….but you totally could.

by booksoverlookedblog

Sound by Alexandra Duncan

Before I get into this, I want to say that I read the novel and wrote this post before I heard about the controversy surrounding Alexandra Duncan’s novel, Ember Days. I am planning on commenting on it in the future, but this post is just about her novel Sound. 

After reading some pretty heavy stuff, I wanted to try something a bit lighter. I chose Sound by Alexandra Duncan, a standalone novel in her Salvage series. According to the description on Amazon, Salvage was praised as, “brilliant, feminist science fiction” that would appeal to fans of Firefly and Battlestar Galactica. I like all of those things, so I eagerly dove into Sound.

I really wanted to like this book. But I couldn’t.

It has everything I would normally love: strong female characters, a well thought-out and unique sci-fi setting, and a protagonist with PTSD who overcomes her fears to save the day. It’s well-written, and I sped through the first five chapters. But the main character, Miyole, makes a choice that drove me crazy, and I could never quite reconcile with it. Spoilers below.

Sound opens on Miyole, a sixteen-year-old research assistant on board a Deep Sound Research Institute (DSRI) spaceship. She researches pollinators like butterflies and bees for the purpose of terraforming and colonizing other planets. Right away I like the opening, how it centers on the small things in science fiction that you wouldn’t normally think about. Her ship is also organic and grown, made of of self-healing nacre. I love the idea of biological ships, and it’s an idea I’ve only seen used in a few sci-fi stories.

I also loved how much detail and thought was put into this story’s universe. A filthy, abandoned space station, or a city built of spindles under the sea of Encladeus. Like the need for pollinators, small aspects of life in space make the setting memorable.

The story really begins after a ship crashes into the Raganathon, the DSRI ship Miyole lives and works on. Pirates have attacked a trader vessel, and the survivors of the attack are taken on board the Raganathon. The survivors are a teenager named Cassia, her niece, and their cat. Cassia’s brother has been captured by the pirates, and likely sold into slavery. Cassia wants the DSRI ship to give chase and find her brother, but they refuse. They can’t change their entire course and mission for one person, who’s unlikely to be found. Cassia is furious about this, and Miyole is frustrated by her commander’s lack of action.

Working together – and accidentally taking the pilot Rubio along with them – Miyole and Cassia steal a shuttle and set out to save her brother.

It sounds really exciting, but this was the point where the book started getting really frustrating for me. Since she was twelve, Miyole’s dream was to join the DSRI, which is incredibly selective, and only launches new missions every few years. She had to be at least 18 to apply for a position with the DSRI, and she’s only sixteen. Desperate to be aboard the next mission, Miyole enlists her brother-in-law’s help to hack into government databases and change her birth year. This is a very dangerous and illegal thing to do. If Miyole gets caught, it’s not just the end of her career. It would also ruin her life, and the lives of her brother-in-law and his wife.

Stealing a shuttle and (more or less) kidnapping a pilot is going to land her in some serious trouble, and authorities looking closely at her records. But she doesn’t think about any of this, or consider the consequences until more than two-thirds of the way through the book.

I know that every story needs a jumping-off point, and this is where the adventure really begins. There’s some justification for it: Miyole’s  frustrated by DSRI’s inaction, and she has a crush on Cassia. But after seeing how much risk she took just to apply to the DSRI, and how much she wanted this job, I wanted to see more than that.

At one point in the book, Cassia is badly injured, and may not survive. I actually hoped that she would die, because then Miyole would be caught in space. If the person she risked her life and career for was gone, what would she do? Would she keep going to find Cassia’s brother, or return to DSRI with her tail between her legs? Or something else entirely? I would have loved to see how Miyole would justify leaving everything behind for Cassia, only for her to die.

But, Cassia lives, and the story continues.

The novel has the overarching plot of rescuing Cassia’s brother, and it’s tied together by a string of different adventures. Sometimes it felt like each step they took on their journey could be its own short story. Along with an eerie, abandoned space station, they have to deal with Cassia’s shady contacts, carbon dioxide poisoning, space pirates, alien monsters, and being enslaved themselves before they reach their goal. There were a lot of cool, detailed settings, especially the seas of Encladeus.

My main problem with this book was the characters. We first meet Cassia after she’s taken aboard the DSRI ship, so we don’t get to see what she’s like when she feels comfortable. Cassia is angry. She’s a cold survivalist, and will do whatever it takes to get her brother back, including murdering others. That’s where Cassia starts, and that’s where she stays. She has so few redeeming qualities I could never actually bring myself to like her. Miyole falls for her though, and likes her enough to steal a shuttle.

So when Cassia breaks Miyole’s heart, Miyole could very well be left with nothing. No career, not future, and not even a girlfriend to explore the stars with.

Since I chose this book from the #1000BlackGirlBooks list, I feel like I can’t end this entry without talking about race. Miyole is Haitian, but grew up in Mumbai after her home “the Gyre” was destroyed during a hurricane. She survived the hurricane, but her mother was killed, and Miyole was left with physical and psychological scars. Miyole’s mother made sure her daughter knew about her Haitian heritage, particularly the slave rebellion. It’s a source of strength for her, as is the memory of her mother. She often wonders if she can be as brave as her mother.

I am sad to report, though, that racial prejudice will still exist in the future. Miyole doesn’t really fit in with her Indian friends, which is one of the reasons she wants to get off the planet. Her accidental traveling companion, Rubio, also refers to her as “memsahib”, much to her annoyance. There’s still a decent amount of “othering”, even aboard the DSRI ship, but it’s largely microaggressions. As the story progresses and Rubio travels with Miyole and Cassia, he does learn the error of his ways and changes accordingly.

There was a lot to like about Sound, but unfortunately for me, I had a hard time getting into it. Even so, I may check out Sound‘s preceding novel, Salvage, which focuses on Miyole’s adoptive family.

by booksoverlookedblog

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad YA Parents

This post discusses suicidal thoughts and behaviors. If you are in need of help, please see the “Resources” page (located on the sidebar), or use one of the following:

National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US): 1-800-273-8255
Crisis Counseling via text: US and Canada: text 741741
UK: text 85258 | Ireland: text 086 1800 280
Find help: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/help-yourself/

I’ve mentioned in a couple other posts that parents in YA novels have a tendency to be…well, terrible parents. This is presuming that they’re alive in the first place, considering how many YA protagonists are plucky orphans.

Living parents often have only a small role in the books they inhabit, so sometimes they may as well not even be there. Sometimes, too, the ones who are involved in the hero’s life are involved in the worst way. I can’t go through every example of parents in YA books not doing their job, but here’s a rundown of some of the most egregious examples of bad parenting I’ve seen recently. Let me see some of the terrible YA parenting you’ve seen!

This page contains spoilers for the following books:
Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson
Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs
Valiant by Holly Black
Brave Story by Miyuki Miyabe
A Drop of Night by Stephen Bachmann
13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

Miss Peregrine feels like the mildest of these examples, so that’s where I’ll begin. The story kicks off with the main character, Jacob, traumatized after witnessing the violent death of his grandfather. Jacob and his father, Franklin, travel to the remote island where Grandpa Portman grew up. To his credit, Franklin does seem to care about Jacob’s mental health and well-being, but his main interest in the island is studying the native birds. He lets Jacob romp across the island alone, even after he acknowledges it’s a potentially dangerous place. He’s far more interested in bird-watching and the local beers to actually pay attention to his kid, even though he’s the reason they’re on the island in the first place.

It’s pretty standard neglectful parenting for these kinds of books, but it was Franklin’s last scene in the novel that disappointed me most. At the end of the book, Jacob decides that he needs to stay in 1940 with the peculiar children. But first, he wants to say goodbye to his father and explain what’s going on.

Jacob doesn’t get a chance to speak. Franklin instead calls Jacob crazy, and says that his friends are imaginary. One of the peculiar children show him her speciality ability, and Franklin faints. It’s a quick way to pass over a hard conversation, and now Jacob can leave his family behind without too much guilt. Because, you know, at least he tried to explain. Franklin just didn’t want to hear it.

A Drop of Night by Stephen Bachmann

This is a novel where the plot itself starts based on some poor parenting decisions. This book changes perspectives between the characters, Anouk and Auriele. Auriele is a young noblewoman living in France during the revolution. Her father builds a palace underground for his family to hide from the revolutionaries. When they break into her home, Auriele must flee to the subterranean palace with her sisters and mother. Auriele’s mother is too frightened to go, so she lets herself be killed by the revolutionaries instead, in front of her daughters.

Let me be clear: She could have escaped. Her kids did. But she actually ran back into her mansion to be killed.

At the very least, it served as foreshadowing, as she had a reason to be frightened of going underground. But I can’t say the same about our protagonist’s parents.

The novel’s real main character is Anouk, a seventeen-year-old genius who speaks five languages fluently, read all the psychology books in her local library, and is already studying art history at a college level. If that’s not insufferable enough for a single character, she’s also incredibly unlikeable, self-centered, and rude to everyone she meets. She blames this on – you guessed it – her parents!

Anouk reveals that she was adopted, and her parents adored her. Then, as she got older, Anouk’s parents had a biological child of their own. As soon as Anouk’s little sister was born, her parents totally forgot about her, ignored her, or actively resented her. Anouk even postulates that the reason her parents supported her studying abroad was because they wanted her away from them.

What?! It doesn’t matter if your kid was adopted or biological, or you have one of each. You love them the same. Anouk’s parents lived with her and loved her for at least a decade before her little sister came along. Love isn’t a switch you can turn on and off. If it was, breakups and funerals would be a lot easier.

Since this makes no sense to me, and because Anouk is so unpleasant, my headcanon is that her perception of her family is really skewed, and they would be perfectly nice to her if she wasn’t such a jerk.

Valiant by Holly Black

I liked most of the Holly Black books I’ve read, but I didn’t care for this one, even in high school. It was darker and edgier than my fifteen-year-old self was ready for, mainly because of the drug use in it. I should have known that this would be a bumpy ride from the beginning, though, after the main character, Val, discovers that her mother has been sleeping with Val’s boyfriend. This causes Val to run away and take up with three other homeless teenagers on the streets of New York City. Good job, mom.

To her credit, Val’s mom does try to contact her and get her to come home, but still. Boundaries, people.

Heads up: These last entries get pretty dark.

Brave Story by Miyuki Miyabe

This is a Japanese fantasy novel in which eleven-year-old Wataru flees to a magical world during a family crisis. Wataru’s father is leaving his mother for another woman, who is also pregnant with his child. Obviously, Wataru’s mother is devastated.

I need to preface this next bit by saying that I know that Japan and the United States have two very different cultures, and what Wataru’s mother does next may not be as shocking to a Japanese reader as it was to an American reader, namely me.

But it still should be at least a little shocking, because she tries to kill herself and Wataru after her husband leaves them. Japan does have one of the highest rates of suicide worldwide, and historically, some methods of suicide were seen as honorable. While I can’t know how a Japanese reader would feel about this suicide attempt, it certainly eeks me out. Having Wataru’s mom attempt suicide is already dark for what’s ostensibly a children’s book. That she attempts to kill Wataru too crosses the line, and should be disturbing for any reader.

What’s even weirder is how much I love this book, even after all this. If you like epic fantasy with a JRPG twist (and some seriously dark moments), I really recommend this one.

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Of course one of the most controversial books from the past few years would make it on this list. This entry is also based solely on the book, not the Netflix show, as I haven’t watched it.

And what a book it is! I could go on for a long time about its messaging, but that’s for another post.

If you don’t know the premise of 13 Reasons Why yet, here it is: Hannah Baker killed herself, and recorded tapes explaining why she did so. The tapes were then given to the people who were her “13 Reasons”.

This entry might be a surprising one, considering that Hannah’s parents played such a small role in the novel. But that’s entirely the point.

You see, in this book’s universe, adults don’t exist. The few that we do see are inept and only push Hannah further into her depression. Hannah’s parents are only mentioned a couple times, and we never see them “on screen”, like we do with a couple of her teachers. They may as well be non-existent.

I understand that kids have a secret world that adults around them, including their parents, are never fully privy to. Hannah’s parents probably didn’t know the depths of her depression, yet they knew that something was wrong. Hannah was grounded because she’d started receiving poor grades, so we know they didn’t totally ignore her. Even so, there’s no indication that they ever tried to help her out of the darkness she was drowning in, or even look to see if it was there.

Kids, and young adults, need support from the adults in their lives for plenty of different reasons. But it’s not always easy for them to get it: they might not know where to look, or know how to ask. They might not want to ask. It’s the adult’s job – parent, teacher, older sibling – to notice that the kid needs help. A cry for help shouldn’t go ignored.

Which is why this final entry pisses me off so much.

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

Like the novel itself, this example is short and to the point. Melinda has been through a traumatic event that has nearly made her mute, and no one knows what happened to her. Her parents only know that she’s changed since entering high school. She’s deeply unhappy and feels lost in her own life.

I’ll let Melinda tell the rest of it.

I open up a paper clip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist.
[ . . .] I draw windowcracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting. It looks like I arm wrestled a rosebush.

Mom sees the wrist at breakfast.

Mom: I don’t have time for this, Melinda.

Nope. Nope. NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE.

If you are in crisis or having suicidal thoughts, please seek help. Remember you are not alone. Consider reaching out to family, friends, or use one of the resources listed.

And I’m sorry if your parents are as bad as any of these.

On October 5, we’ll be returning to the review format with Sound by Alexandra Duncan. Hope to see you there!

by booksoverlookedblog

I Read 30 YA books in 15 Weeks

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m working on getting a Master’s in Library and Information Science. As you might imagine, an MLIS degree requires a lot of reading. Unfortunately, most of that reading is very dry, detailing cataloging techniques or which almanacs are best suited to find information for patrons. It’s valuable for my future work, but it’s boring as hell. Which is why I was so excited when I took a class on young adult literature, and my professor said that we’d be reading 30 YA books over the course of the semester. I was initially elated, cracking open my to-be-read list and asking for reading suggestions on Facebook. Because of school and work, I didn’t have a ton of time. I spent weekends binge-reading and writing page goals in my planner, next to all the other assignments and appointments I had to take care off.

Here’s what I learned from reading 30 YA books in 15 weeks.

Read about high school, dream about high school.

I read Speak and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian over one weekend. Both books star teenagers going through their freshman year of high school. I didn’t have a great high school experience, but thankfully it wasn’t nearly as bad as Melinda’s in Speak. Even so, I’ve never wished to go back or felt that those were my “glory days”. After reading so much so fast, all I could dream about was high school. I was more than happy forgetting all those little details, but apparently my subconscious still remembers them. Getting older isn’t always easy, but waking up in my own apartment and remembering I’m 31 and never have to go back to high school is a huge relief.

I kind of understand some censorship.

I don’t like censorship as a general rule. I talk about this more in-depth in an upcoming post, but the idea of banning a book because someone doesn’t like its content drives me crazy. I know that we want to protect kids, and there are scary things in the world. I also think kids are more resilient than we give them credit for. Challenging books because they contain ideas that might be uncomfortable or against someone’s views feels insulting to me. I understand wanting to preserve kids’ innocence for as long as possible, but I also think we need to have faith in them and let them learn to think for themselves.

And then I read The Devil’s Mixtape by Mary Borsellino.

This was a brilliantly written book, with some beautiful prose and shifting point of views. It’s also intended for a teen audience, with passages filled with validation for young adults who feel lost or alone. It will also give you nightmares, because one of those POVs is from Ella, the mastermind behind a mass shooting known as Cobweb. Ella’s chapters are disturbing and twisted. If this book was well-known in the U.S., I could almost guarantee it would be one of ALA’s most frequently challenged books. Though I tend to scoff at book challenges, this is one of the few times I could understand it.

Ella talks about iconography, and how she immortalized herself through the shooting. She writes about other serial killers with admiration, and the reader sees her path to becoming a murderer. It took me two attempts to finish this book in its entirety because the Ella passages are just so brutal. So much in this book is about saving teens like Ella, helping them find ways to be who they are. My fear is that someone who feels like Ella, who wants to burn the world, will read a book like this and only take away something meaningful from the darkest, most twisted parts of it.

I want to be clear: I don’t think that books or video games or heavy metal music makes anyone psychotic. I’m also against censorship and would fight against a proposed challenge to The Devil’s Mixtape, and any other book. At the same time, I totally understand why well-meaning adults would want to keep a book like this out of a kid’s hands.

Parents in YA Lit are stupid.

I talked about this a little in a post about Tithe, but parents in these books are so incredibly neglectful. If they’re even alive, and not downright abusive. Part of this is just par for the course for the age group. You can’t go on adventures and save the world if your mom is nagging you to clean your room. There’s a few instances where this isn’t the case — I love Starr’s parents in The Hate U Give, for example — but for the most part parents are obstacles, or totally ignored. I’ve started compiling a list of stupid parenting decisions I’ve seen throughout my reading, and I’ll be posting it shortly.

Just because you add cell phones doesn’t make it modern.

In 2010, Lois Duncan, author of I Know What You Did Last Summer and other thriller novels got an opportunity to give her novels a facelift. She modernized the novels by giving characters cell phones and changing their outfits, but not a whole lot else. Not knowing about these revisions, I was totally confused when characters from a book that was originally published in the 1970s started talking about cell phones and the Iraq War. After reading the updated version, the changes were not only pointless, but distracting. For instance, the character’s cell phones are always conveniently dead, so they’re never actually used or come into the plot in any significant way.

Even with the dead cell phones, the rest of the story hasn’t been updated to match. For example, Barry is losing interest in his girlfriend, Helen. He tries to dissuade her from wanting to marry him by saying that if he got married, he wouldn’t want a wife who works. This wouldn’t have been so outdated in the 1970s, when women were entering the workforce in earnest. Today, it’s just misogynistic. Julie’s mother also quit working to raise her daughter, and only went back to work as a substitute teacher after her husband died. That’s not enough to support a household. How does she manage to pay Julie’s cell phone bills?

Non-fiction books need more love.

If you asked me what my favorite genre is, I’m unlikely to say “non-fiction”. I associate it with dry books about old wars or politicians, and things that I don’t care about in general. I only started warming up to non-fiction after reading A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean. After that I read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot, and the autobiographies West With the Night by Beryl Markham and Born a Crime by Trevor Noah. I really enjoyed all of them, but thought of those books as outliers in the non-fiction genre. They weren’t boring, and reading them never felt like a chore. I was once even late to work because I’d stayed up too late reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Thankfully, my boss was a voracious reader, and understood. In fact, he was the one who leant me his copy of A River Runs Through It in the first place.

Non-fiction can still be pretty hit or miss with me, but I’ve definitely warmed up to it. As a teenager, though, I would only ever seek out non-fiction as part of a school assignment. I’m sure many teenagers today feel the same way. That’s a shame, because there’s some really great non-fiction that follows a narrative format and reads like a novel.

It’s not just teenagers who ignore non-fiction, either. Awards for YA books disproportionately honor fiction, and may not even allow non-fiction to be nominated. Fortunately, the Young Adult Library Services Association began the Nonfiction Award in 2010. If you’re like me and don’t think you enjoy non-fiction books, I urge you to take a look at the winners and honorees. You’ll probably find something you really enjoy. Give it a chance!

First Person Present Tense is a Thing Now

I picked up The Hunger Games in 2012, and got sucked in right away. The writing style was so different from what I normally read–that is, first person present tense. Until then, I don’t think I’d read any book that used present tense like that. I found it quite jarring and direct, but it fit with Katniss’s character. Later, I read The Help, also written in first person present tense. It was a way of writing that gave the novel a unique voice and helped the books stand out from their contemporaries. Then I read Divergent, which wasn’t my favorite book, and found the first-person present tense kind of annoying. I thought it was too direct and didn’t flow well. Instead of making the book better, it made it harder for me to read.

As I started reading all these YA books, I noticed that this was becoming a common way of writing. Here’s a list of the books for I read for my YA Lit course that use first person present tense:

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (1999)
The Fault in our Stars by John Green (2012)
Simon vs. the Homo Sapien Agenda by Becky Albertalli (2015)
Sound by Alexandra Duncan (2015)
A Drop of Night by Stefan Bachman (2016)
The Clockwork Dynasty by Daniel H. Wilson (2017)
The Things She’s Seen by Amberlin Kwaymullina & Ezekiel Kwaymullina (2018)
On The Come Up by Angie Thomas (2019)

These aren’t the only books I’ve come across that use this narration format, just the ones I’ve read for this project. I’m not any sort of novel historian, but there’s definitely been in uptick in it since the 2010s. I’m tempted to blame it on the success of The Hunger Games, though of course I have no proof of that. I don’t mind it as much as I used to, but I still find it jarring at times. Take this brief passage from A Drop of Night, which irked me way too much.

I tear into the bathroom, drag on the same clothes I flew here in. Skinny jeans, chunky-knit gray sweater with a kangaroo pocket, the brogues. Hope dinner isn’t a formal affair. Open the hall door. And almost knee Lilly in the face.

Short, terse sentences like this are better used for intense scenes, but most of the book is written in the same style. To be clear: I actually enjoyed A Drop of Night, but the author’s style didn’t always work for me.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that first-person present tense is a Thing now. It’s become so prevalent in novels – at least, in YA novels – that it no longer stands out by itself. It doesn’t pack the same punch it used to. Now that it’s been normalized, it’s up to the author to make the book stand out on its own. Unfortunately, not all authors are up to the task.

This summer, I was fortunate to attend the SCBWI’s Summer Spectacular. Phillip Pullman, one of my favorite authors, was the keynote speaker. I was totally engrossed in his talk, but I had to pause the video and write down exactly what he had to say about present-tense writing.

I don’t like to be confined in one person’s mind. A variant of this is the present tense, which is a scourge of present day writing. I can’t read books written in the present tense. The implausibility barrier is just too high. I can’t believe that this character is A: running down the road, B: writing about it, and C: seven years old.

Phillip Pullman, 2020

I have played with present tense in my own writing, and I can see its use. Even so, I let out a cheer when I found out an author I love and I are in agreement about this.

Switching Point of View Is a Thing Now, Too

So you’ve got a really great idea for a character and a story they could fit into. But you also have a great idea for ANOTHER character and another story they could fit into. Well, you could always work on a companion piece, or a sequel, or a prequel, or–oh, you don’t want to do those things? You want to squish them in the same book together? Even though they lived hundreds of years apart?

Well, I’ve got great news for you! With our newly patented switching-POV mechanics, your novel can have TWO protagonists and TWO storylines for the price of one! Does it need to make sense? No! Should it be balanced between characters? Of course not! Is it trendy? Absolutely!

Okay, books that change point of view characters are not necessarily new. Little Women, first published in 1868, switched chapters between the March sisters frequently. A Game of Thrones was first published in 1996, and also uses changing POVs to tell the story. I’ve just seen it used so much more lately, especially in YA novels. And, despite my introduction to the topic, I don’t always hate POV switches. There are plenty novels that use it as an effective storytelling technique. When done right, having more than one POV character enhances the story and adds depth to it. This is exactly the case with novels like A Game of Thrones and The Clockwork Dynasty. It makes sense to tell the stories in separate chapters, because the characters may be separated by hundreds of miles, or even hundreds of years. I also liked how The Things She’s Seen used two points of view to tell the story, but one character’s chapters are told in prose, and the other’s in poetry. It’s ambitious to weave together multiple narratives and still have the story come together.

However, There are plenty of times when I’ve seen this technique used badly. For every good example of POV switches I’ve seen, there’s two that are done poorly. I’ve read quite a few novels where the perspective changes to show you what a different character is thinking or feeling, rather have the narration illustrate it.When this isn’t done well, it feels lazy and becomes a crutch for the author to take a writing shortcut.

Another problem is authors using alternating perspectives as padding. This was one of the (admittedly many) problems I had with the novel An Ember in the Ashes. The book alternates between two characters’ perspectives: Laia and Elias. During the second act, Laia’s chapters are pretty boring. They don’t move the plot forward or reveal anything new about the characters. It really felt like Laia’s chapters were only there because the author had decided the POV had to change every chapter, regardless of the needs of the narrative. The result was a book that had a lot of wasted space and could have been much shorter.

The one that drove me craziest for this project was A Drop of Night. There, the reader is given two different perspectives: one of the main character, Anouk, and the other of Auriele. Auriele lived two hundred years before Anouk was born. Her chapters don’t appear on a consistent basis, and they add very little to the story as a whole. They’re barely connected to Anouk’s story. The small amount of valuable information we do get from Auriele’s perspective could have been revealed much more effectively in the main storyline. It would raise the stakes for Anouk and keep up the tension of the mystery at hand.

While I might not love POV switches, they do have their place and can be used to enhance a story and make it better. Even so, it’s all too easy to use them as a crutch, and readers can see through that. If you’re going to have multiple perspectives, make sure they’re an essential part of the story. If you could omit entire chapters and still have the novel largely intact, it’s time to re-think, edit, and re-write as needed.

Overall, I had a lot of fun reading all these books, even if it was at a marathon pace. The class was really great and I learned a lot about the history of YA books and currently publishing trends. If this is something you’re interested in, I recommend the book Young Adult Literature: From Romance to Realism by Michael Cart. It’s very informative and easy to digest, and one of the better textbooks I’ve ever had.

I also want to say that if you’re over the age of 18, there’s absolutely no shame in reading or enjoying books made for younger audiences. Many of these books have themes, ideas, and conflicts that run just as deep as novels intended for adults. Just because the characters are younger doesn’t mean that they’re not worthwhile books for adults as well as teenagers.

Additionally, if you typically like YA but have gotten a little tired of YA tropes, I recommend looking up the Alex Awards. This is a literary award that honors adult books that would appeal to YA fans. It can be pretty refreshing when you don’t think you can stand another book about a sixteen-year-old living in a dystopia.

Right now, I’m in my fifth semester at school, taking classes devoted to children’s literature and children’s librarianship. After I’ve concluded that semester, I hope I’ll be able to come back with a similar post about insights into children’s literature.

Come back and visit on September 21, when I’ll be looking at one of the most ubiquitous tropes in YA fiction: bad parents.

Hope to see you then! Happy reading!

by booksoverlookedblog

I’m reading novels and I’m still alive

So. It’s been awhile.

It’s been over a year since my last post, and I’m pretty bummed about that. This is largely due to grad school, which precludes an awful lot of reading I would do for fun, never mind blogging about what I’m reading. That, and trying to plan a wedding during some very weird times.

Wedding planning pro-tip: don’t have a wedding during a pandemic.

However, I did get the opportunity to read more — a lot more — when I took a young adult literature class. Looking over the syllabus, I saw that we were required to read 30 YA novels over the course of the semester. This was the most excited I’ve ever been to do homework. Plus, it gave me the excuse to sit around reading all day, because now it was an assignment.

All this marathon reading inspired a couple forthcoming posts, and helped kick-start this blog back up. I’ll be playing around with the look of the blog as well, so don’t be alarmed if the layout changes.

So, what’s coming next?

I plan on returning to updating every other week, starting September 7! I’m still reading books from the #1000BlackGirlBooks list and reviewing them here. I realized that I had made a pretty crucial error in some of my initial picks, too, and decided to amend that. In short, I’m going to strive to read only books by non-White authors for these posts. There is one exception to this, but only because I read the book and drafted the post before I made that rule.

I’m also planning on doing reviews on books that I didn’t pick for myself. In other words, books that I’ve received in some way or another, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to read. So far, I’ve had fun – and some discomfort – from reading out my comfort zone.

There will also be posts that don’t belong in either of these categories as well. For example, next week I’ll be going over some of the things I learned from binge reading 30 YA books in 15 weeks.

I’ve also considered starting some kind of reading/writing vlog for awhile now. I have a couple planned already, and they may be posted occasionally in lieu of a normal post. I’m not 100% comfortable with recording myself yet, so I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to do this, and I’m sure there will be a bit of experimenting before I get something that I’m happy with and works well.

Before I end this post, I’ll just remind everyone here that I have a Ko-Fi now! The little tea fairy underneath my profile picture will also take you to it. Donations are never expected, and always appreciated! ❤

Again, the first post of the reboot will be on September 7, and will update on every other Monday. I’m looking forward to writing this blog again, and I hope you’re looking forward to reading it.

by booksoverlookedblog

1000 Black Girl Books

Before I get into my new project, I want to announce an update schedule change. Alongside working full time and trying to plan a wedding, I’ll be starting grad school to get my MLIS next month. I want to keep updating at regular intervals, so I’ve decided to post here every other week. I’ll also be posting about each book as a whole, rather than chapter-by-chapter reviews. If you have a Twitter account, you can follow me @nortonwriter14, where I’ll tweet every time the blog is updated. I’ll also occasionally post about books, the writing process, and probably about space and/or cats.

Thank you to everyone who’s read with me this far!

 

For three years, give or take a couple hiatuses, I’ve worked on this blog, reviewing nostalgic books, one chapter at a time. Originally, I wanted to see which old books were worth keeping, and which should find new homes. I’ve downsized a lot since those early days. There are still books that I brought with me from state to state that I’d love to review here, and maybe someday I’ll get to them. But as my life has changed, I think it’s time for this blog to change as well.

I’d debated with myself about what that change should be – one idea I had was reading through Newberry Medal winners – but inspiration struck during a trip to the local library. I was on a tour as part of my volunteer orientation when the librarian pointed out a wall of books near the children’s section. “This is something new we’re trying,” she told me. “1000 Black Girl Books.”

#1000BlackGirlBooks was founded by thirteen-year-old Marley Dias, who’s collected over 11,000 books featuring Black female protagonists. The full list can be found at Grassroots Community Foundation.  I’m a voracious reader, and I was curious to see how many of the books I’ve read made it on to the list.

Four. And of those four, only one was written by a Black author.

I went to my bookshelves and scanned titles, asking myself, “how many of these books are written by White authors? How many of them have characters of color?”

The answer was, “very few”.

I was so disappointed in myself. For all I reminded myself to check my privilege or “stay woke”, my own personal library was incredibly lacking. And that’s when I decided: I needed to step out of my literary bubble.

To be totally honest, I’m a little nervous about doing this. I can’t pretend to be enlightened, or even have a solid foundation to discuss race on. I grew up in a town and went to schools full of de facto segregation, all without knowing it. I saw White heroes everywhere, and Black sidekicks without ever thinking deeply about. Because I loved The Help until I read a Roxane Gay’s take on it, exposing the work’s flaws and all my ignorance with it.

Going through this blogging project, I know I’m going to say the wrong thing. I’m going to stick my foot in my mouth, and there are times when I just won’t “get it”. I know reading books isn’t going to completely eliminate the prejudices and biases that I have. But only by acknowledging and challenging them will I be able to change them. And this is how I’m combating them: with empathy, and information, and books.

by booksoverlookedblog

To 2019 and Beyond!

As you may have guessed, I’ve been quite busy with the upcoming holidays, and haven’t been able to update on time as I would have liked. The final two reviews for Tithe will be up in early January, followed by one last manga review, because Dramacon just needs to be discussed. Following that, I’ll be embarking on a totally new blogging project for the rest of the year, one I’m pretty excited about.

I also started a Ko-Fi for myself. You can find it here: https://ko-fi.com/charmedandalarmed There’s also a link on the sidebar just to your left. Click on the little tea faerie! I’m trying to earn money for a LiveScribe Pen, which will help make the writing process faster, since I handwrite almost everything before I post it online. If you enjoy what I do, please consider supporting me!

Thank you for reading, and I’ll meet you back here in the new year!

by booksoverlookedblog

100 Post Celebration

We’ve made it to the 100th post! I wasn’t sure that I’d make it this far when I started this blog. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it past The Supernaturalist, never mind Eragon. For 100 posts, I’ve cajoled, mocked, praised, and over-analyzed authors’ choices, re-reading through my childhood and adolescence, one chapter at a time. So I decided it’s time to get a taste of my own medicine.

When I was in junior high, I was obsessed with Lord of the Rings. I’d seen the movies multiple times, I tried to teach myself elvish, and I tried my damnedest to read the books. It wasn’t until I got into Return of the King that I realized I hadn’t absorbed a word of the hundreds of pages I’d read.

This did not deter me from writing an entire fanfiction trilogy of my own. I had high hopes for these stories. I thought that someday, Christopher Tolkien would read and publish them, adding them to the Middle-Earth canon. That dream never came true, and for that, every Lord of the Rings fan should be grateful. These stories are truly, truly terrible, and have never seen the light of day.

Until now.

I would like to present to you the first story of my trilogy, which has never been given a title, exactly as I wrote it when I was thirteen years old. To be as true to the original text as possible, all spelling errors, author’s notes, and every embarrassing, canon-defying moment have been left intact. I’ve also added a few footnotes of my own, and hope that you’ll forgive the less than elegant coding for the page jumps.

Please enjoy yourself, and I’m sorry.

Chapter I
The Shire Meeting

“Dear old friends” Aragorn started, and glanced around the room. He was at Sam’s home-Bag end, because the Sackville-Bagginses had decided to move, they gave it back to Frodo, though he had move to the Grey Havens, bought himself a home and gave Bag End to Sam, Rosie and their kids.1

“Dear old friends” said Aragorn again. “I have called you here today because I have a feeling that something involving Sauron and I fear the Shire may be involved.” Gandalf stood up “I know he is right. The Orcs have been acting restless. Several travellers disappeared while leaving Bree. The Orcs are moving closer to Hobbiton.”

Legolas stood up. “Saroun was destroyed. Without him, the orcs can stop. they won’t have enough to take over anything larger than a sheep farm.”2

Gandalf sighed. “I wish it was true, but if Orcs can take over Moria against the dwarves, they could take over Hobbiton very easily.”

Frodo asked, in a very small voice, “Why?”

“I think you know the reason.” Gandalf said.

Chapter II
Alarming News

In the next few months, The Fellowship came in and out of the Shire, to check up on things, make sure everything was normal. After 3 months, Rosie was very tired from cleaning up muddy Ranger’s footprints, and asked if they could talk outside, please. Auttom was on its way, so the days were warm, the nights, cool.

Soon, after one prittcularly crisp, Auttum day, Gandalf rode in with alarming news.

“The orcs have two stations, one is 12 miles from the end of the Anrion and the other is too small to locate. I think, we should move, they are indeed seeking revenge for their strength.”

Rosie exploded. “Samwise Gamgee! How dare you leave me, again! I don’t care where you’re going except that it’s away from us, your family.

Sam embraced her. “I’m sorry I’m always leaving home. Rosie, I promise, that soon, everything will be alright.”

Chapter III
A new Arival

As they left the Shire, A small hobbit appeared. She seemed to be about 33, though a bit short for her age. She had dark hair, a few inches shorter than Rosie’s, which looked slightly wet. She had a green dress and white apron on, not to mension a white hankerchief on her head. When she saw the Fellowship, she ran up to them and just started Gabbing.

“Hello! I’m Tigerlily Underwood. You know, Acutlualy, we used to live in the Shire. Are you going on an adventure? You’re all packed. Can I come, please. It will only take a moment to get me my things. I really love adventure, even if it is odd. I was born here, and I don’t travel often. Won’t be more than a mouth, will it?” But the “it” was never heard. She was off, and came back a moment later like she said, in traveling clothes, on a pony she called Daisey.

“Fine.” Aragorn sighed. “Keep this sword close.” he said as he tossed her one. The fellowship stared. “Never know when you might need an extra.” Aragorn shrugged. Soon, they were off to Bree.3

Chapter IV
The Road to Bree

Heading to Bree should have been easy, even with Tigerlily, but it wasn’t. They had been traveling off the road where they found a strange creature eating berries. He was blue, and had dark blue stripes across his back. His beak was orangeish-yellowish with talons on his feet. He had gigantic wings, but was small enough for a hobbit to ride. The wings were cloud colored-greyish and white. Because they were so huge on him, it looked as if a breeze could carry him away. His eyes were the most amazing thing about him. They held a fiercness in him that no one could see in him anywhere else. The fire in his heart was seen through his eyes. He could probably paralyze a mouse with that stare. But right now, his fiery eyes were closed and he was almost smiling, if his beak would allow a smile, and the creature was happily munching berries off the bush.4</sup

“MOVE!” Legolas yelled and pushed the creature out of the way and the creature snarled at him, but not after a speeding orc arrow hit a tree Then the creature attacked. Flying high, he hit the orcs with such force, Sam seeing Tigerlily fumbling with her sword, showed her an old tecqnique of his-hitting the orc on the head with a frying pan. In the end, only one group remained – It was the fellowship. Legolas looked for the creature and saw it at his feet. The creature told Legolas his name was Griffith, and he’d be honored to do anything for him. Legolas asked him something that Griffith could not expect. Legolas had asked him to join the Fellowship, for Legolas could see that he was brave, snarling at the king of Mirkwood, and that his aggresiveness and fiernces meant that he would be good in battle. Tigerlily walkes around for a bit, thinking. What kind of Adventure was this, full of killing? And yet, as she looked at Griffith, returning to the berry bush to eat while everyone else sat down, she knew this adventure could be full of saving, too.

Chapter V
In Bree

As the fellowship walked into Bree Pippin didn’t even need to ask if they could stop at The Prancing Pony. They were worn out by battle, and Pippin wanted a pint.5 After they got rooms, They explored the bar. Tigerlily wandered into a quieter section, looking for someplace to practice her letters and writing words. She had been taught them, but still needed to practice them.6 The quietset corner had grim men smoking thier pipes and talking almost in whispers. It was too dimly lit to even practice letters and  word, but she kept wandering it, until she saw a piano sitting in a corner and so she began to play it. Her song began:

I have a gift for you
My love
No time or distance can separate us now.
We have become
the beauty of one
love.

The song continued for sevral more verses. Each verse was written by Tigerlily with Passion for her love of music and her younger sister – Saphire, and for her future husband.

She had become so entranced in her song, that she did not notice the bar had become quiet, nor that Pippin had approached her.

When she back to reality, she looked at Pippin.

“I…uh I really think your singing is good”

“Thanks Pip.”

“Well, we’ll be over there, Tigerlily.”

In the morning, Pippin could think of nothing else. As Sam, Merry, and Frodo went down for breakfast, he hardly paid attention to what he was eating. All he could think of was her.

After packing and leaving Bree Aragon annonuced to the Fellowship that they would pass the night at Weathertop. Frodo didn’t look too excited.

Chapter VI:
Weathertop

The fellowship walked up to Weathertop, and with some suprise noticed a small fire on top of it. “Legolas, what do you see?” Gimli asked.

“Someones up there. We should find another place to spend the night.”

“Tch! It’s jut an elf! and one with light eyes, at that. He won’t turn on us.” Griffith landed. “These wings make no sound.”

They were on top of Weathertop. The elf already there was gone, however, his fire was still there, so Legolas scowled the idea that the mystrious elf was still here.

Legolas knew him on sight. He looked like The mystrious elf’s sister. His father had drawn a picture of the mystrious elf’s family line, complete with pictures for all of them. Legolas couldn’t belive what he was seeing–Beoran.7

Before Legolas was born, his father fell in love with a beutiful elf maiden, yet she was a loner. Her whole family was. A loner is an elf who travels alone – they live in no villages, cities, or towns of elves, except by themselves or with small family groups. Loners are looked down upon by other elves, especially from Rivendell.

Now, Beorans sister was ready to move in Mirkwood and start her life as queen. Legolas’ father (seince killed in battle) was head over heels for her. As she was getting ready to move in, her brother reached out to her. He needed help. He had been hurt badly in battle, Sauron was rising, and asked his sister to tend to him. After two years she went back to Mirkwood, but was killed by a band of orcs along the way. Legolas had never know she was trying to come back, All he knew was that she broke his father’s heart by not returning, and so, he figured that Beoran was the reason she dumped his dad. If Beoran was here, it could mean trouble…for Beoran.8

 Chapter VII:
Beoran

“What are you doing here?” aske Legolas

“Do I know you? relpieded Beoran

“Not by name. I am the elf king of Mirkwood, but no need to ask who you are. Muddy clothes, and alone. You are a loner. You have a sister, and your name is Beoran.”

“Yes Legolas I had a sister, And if you took the time to verify the facts, you may have found the truth. My sister was trying to go back to Mirkwood, yet with Saraun rising, the road can become too dangerous fore a lone elf.” Beoran repled, and Legolas said

“She did not have enough courage for the one she loved!” Legolas and Beoran were circling each other, Legolas pratically spitting.

“No, Legolas, she braved the road to come home – to Mirkwood, but couldn’t”

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t say anything because someone was calling him over for dinner.9</sup

Chapter VII:
That Night

“So, who’s your friend?” Sam asked while serving susages.

“Not a friend-just someone I knew. I thought it would be polite to talk to him.”

Soo while they were slepping, Beoran heard a muffled scream.  He was away from the group, but from what he could see, only nine people were slepping over there. Someone was missing. Beoran sat bolt upright. Someone was missing, and noticed something he had not before. It was a crude building, made of sticks and branches with two floors. each had one room.

The two orcs made Tigerlily run to the crude building, which smelled really bad. In the first room, There was a chair and a desk. The two orcs bound her hands behind the chair, not with rope, but with nettles. Finally a tall orc stepped in. He had a great need for some braces, tic-tacs, a shower, a shampoo, and a fashion designer.

“So halfling.” He said in a rough gravelly voice.

“Curse you – curse every halfling! Halfling used to mean nothing. Now Haflings have destroyed the Ring, Destroyed Saroun, destroyed our STRENGTH! Where are you going?” He bellowed.

“I-I don’t know” Tiger Lily responded in a trembling voice.

“Well, let’s give you a night to think about it” He cut the nettle-rope and called two orc gards the led her down into a dongeon. The denugen was actuttaly a hole in the ground, underneath the building. There were bars on the stairs lead up so no one could escpae.

Oh my God, I drew a picture.

Tigerlily leaned on one of the earthen walls and sighed

Suddenly someone emreged from a showdy corner. It was an elf, dark hair, but light color eyes. “My name is Beoran. I’ve come to help you.”

Soon they both were running up to Weathertop. When they got there, Breathless, Tigerlily tried to explain what the orc had told her.

“So it is true then.” Aragorn said. “But they will try to destroy the hobbits before the elves can destroy the orcs. The elves are regaining their former strength,  But the Orcs are losing it. We must go back to the Shire.”10

Chapter VIII
Return to the Shire

They rode as fast as they could to the Shire. As long as they got there, Sam felt, that Rosie and his family would be safe. He urged Bill on.11

They raced to Hobbiton. The sun was sinking in the west. No hobbits were out. The ground was muddy and dirty. The only plants that grew were nettles and pricker-bushes. Doors were broken and windows were smashed. Hundreds of hobbit feet made footprints in the mud. The holes were disgusting, the broken windows, pieces of furniture on the streets. Were hobbits in those holes? Where was Rosie? But the most disturbing thing was not the nettles or the mud, but it was an old pigpen, with hundreds of child hobbit footprints.

Chapter IX
The Discovery of the Hobbits

The hobbits dismounted, Sam pratically crying. He was the only one married w/kids, and he had promised Rosie everything would be fine.

“Run!” Beoran urgently whispered. But it was too late the orcs had come upon them Beoran, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Tigerlily, but Sam tripped over a root and twisted his ankle.

He fell down and got back up. He started running, yet very slowly. Sam reached for his sword, but the orcs grabbed it first and tossed it away. Then they dragged him back to Hobbiton.

Frodo was fighting Aragorn’s arm, restraning him. Frodo fought, but Aragorn’s arm was just too strong. Frodo finally had to give. “We must go back tomorrow, before sunrise.

Aragon promised Frodo they would.

Chapter X
The Rescue, The Elves, Rivendell

Finally it was morning and before sunrise The fellowship and Beoran snuck into a building, which was made of mud. Branches on the inside gave it shape.

Inside there were strange little beds where all the hobbits were sleeping on.

Beoran and Legolas snuck in quietly, not saying a word to one another and took a sleeping Sam out and to where the rest of the fellowship was.

When Sam woke, at sunrise he looked, not relived, but worried or even scared. “Please, Rosie’s still there. We have to save her!”

The fellowship & Beoran would be hoplesssly outnumbered to take out an army on there own, even w/11 companions. Anyway, they had to try.

The orcs were getting the hobbits ready for a day of work at the mill.

The fellowship rode into hobbiton. Pretty soon the hobbits were amazed to hear horses’ feet and then saw the commanding orc heaad get copped off. Suddenly the battle broke out! There were so many orcs pratically all the hobbits save Sam, Frodo, Merry, Pip, and Tigerlily ran for cover – not in the mud building, but in their old holes. But More orcs just kept coming. It was wall 11 to hundreds.

They had pratically all lost hope until Beoran gave a small gasp.

Miles away, three beutiful elf maidens stood in a line, clapped their hands once and then put them next to each other’s hands, touching them. They all were whispering something.

Suddenly a blue flash occured, and then imdeatly after that there was a yellow flash and a green flash. Soon all the orcs lay dead.

“Who did this?” muttered Gimli.

“Three elf maidens. I saw them” said Beoran.

Legolas didn’t belive him. “I was looking in the same direction, and I saw no one.”

“Legolas,” Beoran said “You do not live alone. When you do live alone, the only person who can look out for you is yourself.”

The hobbits in the Shire were free, but now the beutiful Shire was full of mud and junk. No one could make the plants grow back quickly.

Soon, these three elf maidens Beoran saw came. Their bare feet made footprints in the mud, which produced small sprouts where they were seconds later.

Legolas and Beoran knew at once they were elves from Above. Elves from above lived higher than Middle earth – some people said they lived in cloulds. They could call the sun, clouds, snow, and rain, and they could heal almost anything just by touching it.

The first one started to whisper to they sky in an anhiet form of elvish. She had long, dark brown hair and sea-green eyes. She wore a white dress tinted with light green. After whispering to the clouds a gentle rain came down on the ground, and young plants popped up.

The second elf had shoulder length golden hair. She had bright green eyes and began to whisper to the ground. The young plants grew. Trees grew trunks. Flowers grew buds grass popped up.

The last one had bright blue eyes and rich, auburn hair.

She wispered to all the young plants, and all of them began to grow as fast as she could speak. Weeds grew up faster, but died seconds after they group up. There were no weeds in the Shire anymore. Also the hobbits became more alive.

“Sam! Sam!” Rosie came running towards them.

Sam embraced her and said, “Don’t you rember? I said everything would be okay.”

As the color returned to the stricken faces, someone finally asked the mystrious elves “Who are you?”

The elf who called the rain said “I am Falmarin (name meaning: Sea Spirit) I come from the Lands Above. My closest friends, more like my sisters, have come for a year of training, unless we have reason to stay.”

The elf who whispered to the ground said “I am Wenval” (name meaning: powerful maiden)

The last one said “And I am Erlant” (name meaning: lone bridge)

Then she said “The Shire is now protected. No orc dares to touch what the elves from the Lands Above touches or heals. Please, go quickly. There are other places that need protection.” However, it was getting late, so Sam suggested they spend the night in the Shire, and go first thing in the morning.

Legolas and Erland stayed up half the night, giggling, talking, even a bit of shameless flirting here and there.

After a few more hours, Legolas fell in love, but Erlant only liked him-liked him. She wasn’t ready for love yet. Soon they agreed to go to sleep, but not before Legolas whispered “I love you.” In her ear. Suddenly Erlant new why she couldn’t love him… yet.

“I can only love you back when you fully trust your companions.”

Falmarine, Wenval, and Erlant left before anyone else did. The fellowship and Beoran head out at sunrise. The plan to ride straight into Rivendell, and all the elves have moved back, becaus they felt so secure about the ring being destroyed.

It took them two days and one night to get to Rivendell. THey were going at breakneck speed, Shadowfax leading. Oh well, Bill was getting chubby.

At Rivendell they all had a great feast in a grand hall, and Elrond mostly hung around Aragon, asking how Arwen was and his kids.

“They’re Twins. And they’re all beatiful.”

They stayed for four days before They left. When they left, They were presented with cloaks that would stop them from frezzing to death or getting frostbitten as they crossed Cardaras.

Chapter XI:
Cardaras

The cloaks were much needed as it was very cold. They prett much decided not to go to the Mines of Moria for obvious reasons. Legolas and Beoran were especially helpful. Snow was thicker this time of year, so the elves (Elves rock my socks!) finally picked up the hobbits, and Aragorn also carried one.

Frezzing, they trudge up the mountain. Until they saw something odd. It was a building on a wide ledge. They decided to not stop becase no one knew who lived there.

They were stopped anway, by a strange looking creater. It was black and had for yellow rings around its stomach. It was like a large dog, with floppy ears and tough paws.12</sup It pratically forced them back to the building. They fell throug the backdoors.

Inside the building it was warm and dry. The creaturs offered the fellowship food, which they all refused — just for safety.

The creatures wouldn’t let them leave until the next morning.

No one knew it, but the creatures were Narions, who could be very ferocus, but most of the time were kind and hospitable, and the reason Gandalf made the stay a night was because they would be very offended if they dared to refuse it.

As they began their desent down the mountain, they saw Falmarin, Wenval, and Erlant. Wenval said, “Be careful and alert. There are orcs nerbye, perhaps marching up the mountain at this very moment. They wouldn’t come up this high, but still…” Frodo pulled out sting. It was faintly glowing around the edges. Soon, Falmarin, Wenval, and Erlant departed.

After one mile, Sting was bright blue. Frodo had been constantly checking it. Everyone got there weapons ready – including Tigerlily, as she had gotten a bit more handy with a sword.

The orcs surronded them – about twenty in all. Suddenly, Beoran and Griffith were gone. “Knew he wasn’t one of us.” muttered Legolas. Griffith did a nice little sky-dive body slam combo, but Beoran was truly with the fellowship. He had just went to a higher place than the others. It was safer, and he could aim better. Soon there was not an orc standing.

The fellowship came down the mountain, the first place they even thought of going was Lorian.

“Greetings from Lorian.” Said Galdrel, yet it was not the Galdriel they rembered. She had a scar around her left ankle and Celeborn was no where to be seen.

Beoran went to talk to her later that night. “Please, what is wrong? You can tell me.”

“Oh, Beoran.” She sobbed on his shoulder. “Oh, Beoran. He’s gone. I can’t belive it. He’s gone. He’s gone. He had to go out.”13

“It’s alright, it is. I lost my dear sister the same way. Trust me. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

Chapter XII:
The Final Battle

Galdreil smiled at him and squezzed his hand. Her eyes shone. “Oh, Beoran.” Was all she said.

* * *

Every night, Beoran went to talk to Lady Galdriel. She loved to hear of his adventures. She always had. On the third night, however, she gave him a hug to say goodnight. On the fourth night, however, instead of saying good night, she asked him to stay and look at the orc base for her. It was pretty hard to see because it very far away and it was night. this is what he could see:

“The orcs fortress has two doors. There are dark shapes being handed out from the lower door. The look like swords but there are some bows. Many of the swords are being dipped in a bucket.”

“They are preparing for battle” Galdriel said.

* * *

It was true. The next night war crys were heard and thousand of feet and armor.

Not that Lorian was unprepared. They had two lines – one in front and one in behind them. Also, the Narions had heard by the wind that Lorian may be attacked, so they all headed there to help the fellowship by delaying the elves from battle.

The fellowship was surprisingly in neither of these lines, as they were heading to the end of the great river. It had now been twenty-four hours seince Beoran had aroused14 them from sleep and told everyone to get ready, Legolas muttering something about “untrustworthy git” yet they all were praying in there mind that the fight was still on.

* * *

They banked there boats and continued on foot, Aragon leading, until at exactly 12 miles from The great River they saw a fortress. It was made of round stones and mud. A medium sized mound lay in front of it. It had pink and blue flowers spouting up from it and woods behind it. Why the orcs did not touch this area remains a mystery.

Beoran said “they have one last source of strength. It lies in shadows in the dungeon. Be on your gurd. Orcs don’t all battle at the same time.”

* * *

 Soundlessly they crept through the earthenware corridors into the dark dungeons of the rock fortress and down to a far cornor in the back. Suddenly, the fellowship heard a scream coming from an upper room. Someone was in trouble! The fellowship could either go up or stay down. Legolas and Beoran went straight up. The knew what the others did not–The scream came from an elf maiden.

The fellowship followed Aragorn and Gandalf down a shadowy hole to the next level. In a showdy corner, There was a black and red glowing ball that seemed to be floating.

* * *

As Legolas and Beoran climbed and reached the exit, Beoran was behind him when he suddenly pushed Legolas down on his face. Beoran let him up a few seconds later.

Legolas turned around to see an arrow in the building, for Beoran saw what Legolas did not. Legolas saw Beoran get up and rushed over to his side “Thank you, Beoran. I can now truly trust you.”

* * *

The glowing ball had an axe, several swords, and Gandalf’s staff pointing at it. Gandalf whispered something to the ball and it devolped cracks and glew w/a fiercness not yet seen. “NOW!” He yelled and everyone stuck their weapon in. Gandalf whispered again. The ball vibrated, rubbing off on the weapons until they could hardly be held then

POW!

The ball exploded with blinding flashes and all the orcs turned to ash. And the wind blew the ashes away into the sea.

* * *

Legolas and Beoran were still searching for the screamer.

She came running to them, her dress drenched with blood–black and red. She came gasping to Legolas and fell at his feet. He lifted her up.

He almost cried when he discovered it was Erlant. He picked her up and ran to the mound. He set her down there. “Now I can finally love you.” she said, and kissed him.

Falmarin and Wenval came running towards him. “Please, Legolas, give her to us. She’ll die if she stays here.” It was Wenval.

“Legolas, please. If you truly love her, you will give her to us. Its the only way she will evr live.” That was Falmarin.

Trying hard not to cry he carried Erlant’s almost dead body to Falmarin and Wenval. They disappeared and Legolas was left alone. All that was left was sparkles.

Legolas took his golden arrow that Lady Galdriel had given him and stuck it into the ground where Erlant had laid. He bent down and cried. He cried and cried until Beoran came. The mound now had a name. It was Teardrop Mound. And Legolas had given it that name.

* * *

Legolas slept–a lot. He rarely ate. He often took long walks when he wasn’t sleeping, usually around the boats, as if he was toying with the idea of going to Tearddrop mound. One morning Beoran wasn’t surprised he was gone. He looked and saw Legolas sleeping near the mound. Beoran saw that he was not alone. Falmarin was with him, rubbing his back. Soon all Beoran could see were sparkles and Legolas waking up.

He got in the boat and rowed back to Lorian. When he returned the next morning, the first thing he did was ask for breakfast.

THE END

1. This story breaks canon not on the first page, but in the first paragraph. [Return]
2. How do you spell “Sauron” right in one paragraph and not in the next? And why a sheep farm? What kind of example his that? [Return]
3. Wait, what? Who is this random hobbit and why do they take her with them? [Return]
4. It’s probably worth noting that this character was based on the Eyrie neopet, because I was 12. [Return]
5. I was too young to know that pints were the standard beer size. [Return]
6. I wanted to show off that I knew hobbits learned to cook before they learned to read, but couldn’t figure out that adult hobbits wouldn’t need to “practice their letters”. [Return]
7. I sincerely thought “Beoran” was an original name when I wrote this, even though I’d read The Hobbit just a year before writing this nonsense. [Return]
8. That’s it. I will never write anything better than the story of Thranduil’s love life. Please consider this my retirement from fiction. [Return]
9. This is how I end all my confrontations. By going to dinner. [Return]
10. Here’s the thing: I knew that the elves had all left for the Grey Havens. I just chose to ignore it. [Return]
11. Likewise, I knew that Bill the Pony had not been in the picture for some time, but refused to write him out. [Return]
12. Let’s not kid ourselves. I wanted to have umbreons in this story but change it just enough so they were original. [Return]
13. Oh, and Celeborn is dead because no canon is sacred in this terrible, terrible story. [Return]
14. “Aroused” doesn’t always mean the same thing as “roused”, but I didn’t know that at the time. This could have been a very different chapter if I had. [Return}

by booksoverlookedblog

Changing Directions

I began this blog a couple years ago when I was still living with my parents, in the house I had grown up in. While I’ve never been the neatest person, one of the things preventing me from ever having a truly clean room was the veritable library of books spread throughout the house. But I loved all of them so much, even the ones that I hadn’t read in years, or the ones I was likely never going to read. Choosing which ones to part with would be an impossible decision. This is, until I made a friend who had been going through all of her old childhood books, reading them again and deciding what to keep at what to get rid of. She talked about things she’d never noticed in her books before, some of which were my favorites when I was younger. But when she mentioned racism in Madelin L’Engle’s works, I was surprised. That was something I’d never picked up on when I was younger, and I wanted to see if it was something I’d missed as a kid.

I thought blogging about my re-reads would be fun to do, and I could see and share the ways that I had grown. I also thought that this project – and it would be a long project – could help me decide which books were worth keeping, and which should find new homes. I set out some ground rules for myself, and got to work.

Then things changed. I pared down, moved to another state. I pared down again, moved to a different state. I took some books from my large collection at home, still in my parents’ house, along with most of my favorites (the Harry Potter and Fables series were too heavy to bring with me).

But I’m winding down to the end of that pile. I’ve got one manga left, which will follow Tithe, and a couple more novels, though not many.

So, as Guns N’ Rose’s once asked, “where do we go now?”

I want to continue working on this blog, but I’m not sure in what capacity. Traditional book reviews is an obvious route I could take, rather than in-depth, chapter-by-chapter reviews. I’m considering doing more YA fiction (like An Ember in the Ashes and Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge), Newbery Medal winners, and #1000BlackGirlBooks.

I’m dedicated to finishing my long-form review of Tithe and the next manga in question, but I would need to get the jump on another project now to keep a steady stream of updates. So if there’s something that you would like to see from this blog or an idea that sounds intriguing, let me know!