Micro Fiction Monday: Stay Super

We conquered the world, you and I. We faced the devil together. We fought him together, and we won. We rose from the ashes, hand in hand, and faced a new world. We’re a team.

We were a team.

One moment we were supeheroes, facing the universe and all it had in store for us, head-on and without fear. We were indestructible, until all at once we weren’t.

Somewhere down the line, our hands slipped. You were no longer beside me; I couldn’t even see you anymore. I didn’t know if you were behind me or ahead of me, or if you were defeated altogether. We’re not two halves, but two wholes. And maybe that’s a good thing.

I still call your name, sometimes. Maybe you can hear me. Maybe you can’t. But I hope I find your hand again.

And if I don’t, I hope you stay super without me.

Is the Book Really Better Than the Movie?

Have you ever seen Howl's Moving Castle? I rewatched it the other day. God, it's a good movie. You should go watch it.

Anyway. Rewatching the movie reminded me that it's actually based off of fantasy novel by Diana Wynne Jones, which I haven't read, because I've found that fantasy books aren't normally my thing. (Which is a whole other can of worms for a whole other blog post.) Despite this, though, nothing will prevent me from looking up reviews for this book as a form of procrastination--so I did.

Just about every review on Goodreads, though, makes reference to the movie in one way or another. Which isn't necessarily bad--it just reminds me of all of the people who preach and cry, "READ THE BOOOOOOOOK!!1!" every time a new book-to-movie adaptation comes out.

The popular belief is that the book is always, always, always better than the movie. (Always.) Which, in my opinion, isn't true. The book is always different. The book always has more detail. But I, for one, do not believe that the book is always better than the movie. Sometimes, but not always.

I feel like a lot of people confuse faithfulness to the original plot with actual good quality. I used to be the same way--I'd read a book, before spitefully watching the movie adaptation and critizing every change they made. It got to the point where I'd put off reading a book I was excited for, just so I could see the movie first and not be disappointed by the lack of depth.

If I've learned anything in recent years, though, it's that books and movies are completely different mediums and need to be treated as such. Think about it--would you compare an abstract painting to an artistic photograph? Would you compare a poem about a bird to a sculpture of one? I mean, you can, and there are probably benefits to doing so, but you still recognize that each artwork captures the subject differently. It's just like you wouldn't compare a Stephen King thriller to a children's picture book--because really, how can you compare the two at all?

I'm a very big fan of the Divergent trilogy. I was actually first attracted to the books by the first trailer for the movie back in 2014, so heck yes I was super excited for the movie! And, all in all, they were fairly faithful to the book...but not in the way I would have liked. They made mostly minor changes (and one bigger one towards the end), none of which really made sense to the story. They changed one of the overall themes of the book, and I really didn't think it worked in the movie's favour.

But Insurgent? I liked it. It's damn near ridiculous plot wise, and took many more liberties in changing its course of events from the book, which I think is the reason most people dislike it. (Most original fans of the book, anyway.) But I still liked it, way more than the first movie.

Here's the thing: the theme in Insurgent (the novel) is very deep, dark, and complex--and I was so, so scared that they were going to try and adapt it into the film and ruin it--because, to be honest, there's too much there to really portray it accurately and faithfully in a couple hours.

When it came time to actually watch the movie, I was pleasantly surprised--they switched the theme around completely, adapting something totally new. And even though it wasn't as deep or emotional, it was still well done (in my opinion, anyway), and I appreciated the fact that they were willing to change something so central in the books, in order to make the movie a little better.

I've also found a pattern in my own personal movie-going and book-reading experiences--whichever version of the story I'm introduced to first is the one I tend to favour.

Example A: The Princess Diaries, originally a series by Meg Cabot. I grew up with the movies, as many people my age did, and it wasn't until I was in middle school that I realized they were actually based off of a really popular book series. I hold the movies very near and dear to my heart, so I was eager to pick up the first book and give it a try.

I didn't like it. Maybe I'm biased because I have a nostalgic attachment to the movie version, but I just didn't like that version of the story. I stopped after the first book, and just never bothered to read any of the others.

Example B: Avalon High. Coincidentally, another book by Meg Cabot, and one that I actually really love. In 2010, it was adapted into a Disney Channel movie that I was super excited to see--and, inevitably, was disappointed by. It was basically the same old story; I didn't like the changes they had made, I thought that the quality of the story in the book was better, etc etc.

BUT. Here's the thing: it wasn't a bad movie. (Of course, Princess Diaries wasn't a bad book, either.) The sets were incredible, and I have to admit--their twist was pretty good. (Not, like, world shattering or anything. But I certainly wasn't expecting it, and I'm sure few people who read the book were. Which makes me think that that might have been the point.) If it weren't for the pre-existing novel that I had already read and loved, I genuinely think I would have enjoyed the movie more.

BUT--and here's one super big exception to everything I've mentioned thus far--I didn't feel that way about W.i.t.c.h. W.i.t.c.h. was, originally, an Italian comic book, that was translated into several languages and adopted into a novel series (with comic excerpts at the start and end) in North America. It was super duper big, went on for, like, ten years, and was adapted into a television show that lasted two seasons.

I started reading the books first. Unfortunately, as much as I absolutely adore this series, I never finished it completely, basically because North America sucks. (They only adapted the first two story arcs, when the Italian version went on for, like, twenty, and also started full comic translations without ever finishing them. My soul never healed, friends. I am bitter to this very day.) I read the books and loved them and looked forward to their releases for a long, long, long time.

And then I watched the TV show.

The TV show adaptation took a lot of liberties with the story--it changed a lot of plot points, a lot of character designs, and a lot of details of the world it was set in. But I honestly didn't mind--I enjoyed these changes, as much as I enjoyed the original novels / comics...sometimes even more so. (Caleb and Cornelia, guys. CALEB. AND. CORNELIA.) Now I don't even want to read the original comics because I know my dreams will be dashed.

SO. What do you guys think? Do you think the book is always better than the movie, or do you judge it on a case-by-case basis like me?

Until later,

- Justyne

Review: Just One Day

I don't know who I am. Or maybe I do know who I am and I just don't want to be her anymore." - Gayle Forman, Just One Day

HELLO, FRIENDS! Guess what book I finally finished in time for a Wednesday review??

I enjoy how perfectly my new bookmark fits in with the book I just read.

A photo posted by Justyne (@shteen101) on Feb 22, 2016 at 10:49am PST

This was another reread for me--ever since reading An Age of License (which was...a really long time ago lol whoops), I've had this massive travel bug. Since there aren't any major trips on the horizon (yet..hint hint wink wink nudge wink), the only logical thing that could satisfy it was...another book about travel!

Except not really, because all it did was make me want to travel more. Oh, well.

I normally find that, by the time I get around to reading a book for a second time, I've forgotten how much I initially enjoyed it. This time, though, I think I actually enjoyed it...more? When I read it for the first time back in 2014 (coincidentally, also the last time I was in Disney World....I THINK THIS IS A SIGN), I gave it a four star rating on Goodreads. Once I finished it up on the bus the other day, I didn't hesitate before giving it a solid 5/5. So what changed?

My perception of the story, that's what.

Okay, so let's back up a bit. Just One Day is the first of three components to one larger overall story--the other two are Just One Year, a companion novel to Just One Day, and Just One Night, a novella that serves as the sequel and conclusion to both. When I first read Just One Day, I didn't own Just One Year, and I'm 95% sure that Just One Night hadn't even been ANNOUNCED yet.

Let me tell you, though--the book is so much better when you look at it as part of a larger story.

Just One Day follows Allyson Healey, a recent high school graduate on a Teen Tour! in Europe with her best friend, with plans to head to university and study pre-med in the fall. On her last day of the tour, she meets Willem, a Dutch boy who acts in an amateur, outdoor production of The Twelfth Night. He offers to take her to Paris for a day (get it? Just one...you get it), and she accepts. In that one day, Allyson learns more about herself, life, and love than she ever thought possible. The book continues after the conclusion of that day, as Allyson struggles to relate the person she became in Paris back to the person she's always been at home.

The timeline in the book spans for one year, and Just One Year follows a similar timeline, telling Willem's own sequence of events as he also comes to terms with the events of that day. It ends mere moments after its predecessor, leaving Just One Night to conclude their story once and for all. For the purposes of this review, though, I'm going to try and look exclusively at Just One Day.

The best thing that this book has going for it is Allyson's personal growth through it all. She meets so many new people and learns so much and it's just so damn relateable, both as a teenager and a 20-something. I appreciated the fact that her year-long search wasn't just for Willem, but for Lulu--for the girl she felt she became that day. Watching her shift as she tried new things and stepped out of her comfort zone was the most enjoyable part of the whole story.

Forman does a really good job crafting her characters, too. Not only Allyson and Willem, but Dee and Melanie and Wren were portrayed in very unique and realistic ways. Even though they weren't focused on too much, Forman did an excellent job of expressing them in such a way that you know that there's more to them than we're able to see in this story alone. I feel like all three of these characters could fill novels with stories of their own.

The only exception, I felt, were Allyson's roommates. Kali, Jenn, and Kendra felt more like filler characters than anything. Unlike the others, I didn't feel like I knew them at all--they just fell flat on the paper, which is especially disappointing considering the colourful personalities of some of the other side characters.

NOW. If you decide to read this book (or even if you already have), I must insist that you GO READ JUST ONE YEAR. While I thoroughly enjoyed this book and all it has to offer, it never fully answers the questions that Allyson and the reader poses after the day in Paris ends. Just One Year does--and the ending is SO MUCH MORE SATISFYING when you actually have these answers! Without them, this book just barely falls short, which is especially frustrating, considering how much extra story you still have to get through to finally figure out what happens oh my god.

I hope to do a review of Just One Year--and maybe even Just One Night--sometime in the future, so stay tuned for that!

Have you read this week's book? Let me know what you thought in the comments!

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: Notes

When she was sixteen, she dated a boy who wrote her songs. His Christmas gifts were ballads on a grand piano, sung to her beneath the twinkle of the tree. His presence was made known by hums and whistles, short melodies sung quietly, so only she could hear. He believed that the path to forgiveness began with his guitar beneath her window, and a serenade to the moonlight.

When she was nineteen, she dated a girl who wrote her love letters. Always mailed, with a single stamp, even when they shared an apartment. Her cursive was like art, the paper thick and textured. She received a new letter weekly, each filled with beautiful prose and syntax. Her girlfriend believed in art, and in grand proclamations of love.

Now, she dates a boy who does nothing of the sort. Her boyfriend can’t carry a simple tune, and isn’t much more talented with words. He isn’t one for grand proclamations, of love or otherwise. Instead, she finds notes—small notes, taking up no more than a post-it, which she finds littered around her life. A stupid joke in her lunch, or a reminder on the mirror, or an “I love you” on her pillow.

She doesn’t wish for anything grand. Three simple words are more than enough, if they come from the right person.

Find Your Happy Place

I don't normally listen to music when I work. I get distracted too easily, so even if I manage to stay away from social media (which is, um, rare), the music will ensure that both my mind and the document on my screen remain blank. All listening to music does is make me wish I lived in the universe of High School Musical, where normal, everyday people perform elaborate musical numbers just to tell people that they don't sing or dance. (Also a universe where everyone is talented at both singing and dancing. Oh, what a world that would be!)

HOWEVER. If I am listening to music, you can bet your butt I'm listening to music from Disney World.

(I talk about Disney a lot, I know. I'm sorry. I can't really help it.)

Here's the thing, though: I really love Disney World. Like, immensely. You already know that, probably, if you've talked to me for more than a second and a half. It is, if you will....my happy place. (Roll credits.)

Everyone has a happy place, don't they? That place that we like to retreat to when we're angry or upset or sad or stressed or whatever. Mine is no differnet--it just happens to have a giant castle...and Mickey Mouse.

Ignoring the details of my own personal happy place, though, have you ever really thought about what yours is? Have you ever used it? Do you have it developped into more detail than just, "Oh, yeah, there's a meadow. And, um, trees, I guess? A river, sure. A nice stream of water. And clouds. Are we done?"

No, my friend, we're not. You are gonna sit your butt down and figure this shit out.

To work hard, well, and productively, you need a good atmosphere. You need something with minimal distractions, a pretty view, a good beverage...pretty much something that makes you comfortable. You need to want to be there, dammit, otherwise you'll spend the next hour and a half wishing you were somewhere else. You need the right chair, the right temperature control, the right level of background noise envelopping you in a warm coccoon of happiness.

To be productive, you need your happy place. Or, at least, the closest thing you can get.

Unfortunately, I can't live in Disney World. I want to (and if I had won that 1.6 billion dollar jackpot a while back, maybe I could have), but unfortunately, as much as I'd like to sit outside of the Starbucks on Main Street, USA and spend the remainder of my days writing to my little heart's content....it probably isn't going to happen.

But being in Disney World makes me so happy. I love the sounds, the excitement, the...well, everything. I love everything. When I am in a Disney park, everything is finally right with the world! So what can I do to harness that, to bring the magic of Disney into my everyday life?

THIS.

Some beautiful soul created four beautiful playlists, comprised of various songs used throughout the respective theme parks. Sometimes--normally when I'm out and about, wanting to be anti-social while I work--I plug in my headphones and crank up one of those playlists, so I can work and pretend I'm in Disney World to my little heart's content. It doesn't matter if I'm writing, blogging, studying...whatever. It helps me focus and be productive when I really don't want to. (Okay, sometimes it also makes me want to run away from home, Disney or Bust. But trust me, most of the time it works.)

The great part about this is that it's portable--I can take my beautiful, wonderful happy place with me wherever I go. (Or at least, wherever there's wifi. Gotta love those data charges.) Wherever I happen to be, I can live my blissfully ignorant life of pretending I'm in Disney World 24/7.

What about you? What's your happy place?

Until later,

- Justyne

The Subjectivity of Adulthood

When I was between the ages of ten and twelve, I dreamed of being a grown up; a teenager, with great friends and great classes and a boyfriend. I dreamed of being in clubs, on student council, of being valedictorian, of going on class trips and to parties and becoming a foreign exchange student.

When I was sixteen, I dreamed of being a grown up; a college student, with college classes and college friends and a college boyfriend. I dreamed of going to college parties, living in the dorms with a new roommate, studying and living on coffee. 

Now, I am twenty-one. (Going on twenty-two this year...Lord help me.) And still, I don't feel like a grown up. I am in university, I've been to a university party (for real! It was only the one, but still), I've lived in a dorm and had a roommate and I definitely, DEFINITELY live off of coffee. I've been on a class trip, I've ran for student council, I've had a few great (among many mediocre) classes, and I have great friends. But I still don't feel like a grown up.

I'm in a human geography class this semester (to knock out one of my pesky social science requirements), and within the first few classes, my professor introduced us to a little website called 

The Geography of Youth.

Are all of you familiar with the Humans of New York blog? (Personally, it's one of my favourites.) The Geography of Youth has a similar concept, over a much broader location. They started by travelling around, taking pictures of millenials and asking them the same few questions, both of which would later be uploaded to the website. They've since expanded it, and now internet users all over the globe are able to upload their own self portrait and answer the questions themselves. One of the questions asked is, "Do you consider yourself to be an adult?" Depending on their answer, the interviewee is then asked when they think they became an adult, or when they think they'll become one.

This question was not the focus of the class, and we never discussed the true nature of adulthood. But still, that was the question that I was really drawn to--because how do you know if you're an adult? Am I an adult becasue I live on my own? Am I an adult because I buy groceries and pay bills and graduated high school almost four years ago? (//sobs)

Or is there something that I'm lacking? Am I still just a kid, because I watch Disney movies and read YA and barely know how to cook? Will I become an adult when I graduate university? When (or if) I get a Real Life Adult Job, one where I work Monday to Friday from 9 to 5, every day?

Or will I never actually be a grown up, just forever stuck in this limbo of in-between?

I think adulthood is different for everybody. I go through stages, almost, of whether or not I actually feel like an adult. Most of the time, it's the latter--I'll be sitting at home in a onesie, playing Sims and pigging out on chips and I'll feel as far from grown up as possible. In general, when I'm living my everyday life, I don't feel very grown up.

But then I'll have a very small moment, a second of realization that this very Grown Up thing to do has become a normal part of my life. Like when I catch myself pushing a shopping cart through a grocery store, flyer in hand, or when I cook an actual meal, with meat and veggies and things that take more than a minute and a half in the microwave to prepare. It's like a sudden hit of, "Wow. Holy crap. I am so grown up right now."

Objectively speaking, I'm a legal adult. Subjectively, it's a lot more complicated than that.

What about you? Do you consider yourself to be an adult? Why or why not?

Until later,

- Justyne

Review: An Age of License

You know what I don't review enough? Graphic novels. You know what I don't read enough? GRAPHIC NOVELS. Seriously. Graphic novels are fab, super easy and quick to read. It's a wonder I don't read more of them.

Lucy Knisley's travelogue An Age of License is one I've wanted to read for a really really long time, but it never seemed like anyone ever had it in stock. I actually found it by accident, while going on my annual Post Christmas Book Binge (aka the day that I go and use up all the gift cards that the lovely people in my life have given me). A pleasant surprise! I read the majority of it on the bus the next day. (Like I said--graphic novels provide some very fast reads!)

I'm unfamiliar with Knisley's work, but her ilustration style is what drew me to the book in the first place. It's very simplistic, cute, and welcoming to the reader. It wasn't super exaggerated, and I really appreciated some of the full-page illustrations of the things she saw while abroad. (That girl knows her watercolours!)

Some people may find this book a bit slow, to which I say....well, it's a journal. It recounts most of what she did day by day while in Europe in a visual way, including some unique sights she saw and conversations she had with others. It's not meant to be thrilling or an exciting adventure--it's more retrospective, with thoughtful consideration about her accomplishments, her future, etc etc. It's a memoir; a travelogue, as she calls it. The key is relating to the illustrator--if you can't find a similarity or two, if you can't relate to her in some shape or form, you probably won't take much away from this. (But if you do relate to her, she talks about some really interesting stuff in a very thoughtful way!)

This book really gave me the travel bug--I've always enjoyed travelling, but seeing the places she travelled to and following her along this journey really made me want to hit the road (or plane?) again! Which is bad, because I'm a poor student, as are most of my friends. Oh, well. It'll happen eventually. 

I'd give this book a solid 4 stars--and I definitely recommend it to any artists or travellers out there!

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: Curse

They said he was cursed. I didn’t believe them; I just thought he was scarred, burned alive and still around to tell the tale. That’s what all the newspapers had said. So why wouldn’t I believe it?

I was the one who found him collapsed on the floor, a wilted rose in his hand, the thorn drawing blood from his palm. The paramedic said cardiac arrest, but that didn’t make any sense—he was only twenty-one.

It was his birthday.

Even as his pulse flatlined, the staff in and around the room cried “curse”. Like magic had been the cause of this tragedy, like they couldn’t face reality for once in their sorry lives and deal with the trauma as normal people would.

I whispered my secrets to him, the things I had always wanted to say but never had the chance. I knew he couldn’t hear, couldn’t open his eyes to see my tears and respond. But I said them anyway.

His body began to shift. Scars were replaced by flawless skin, a full head of hair returned to his scalp. His heart awoke, his eyes fluttered open; my secrets had not fallen on deaf ears.

The staff rejoiced, proclaiming that the curse had been broken, that I had saved the day, like some kind of hero. Somehow, I didn’t feel like one. I didn’t want to be one.

But if it meant having him back, I would be.