Review: Shoplifter by Michael Cho

"What will you do now?""I'm not sure. Whatever it is, I know I have to find it, instead of waiting for it to fine me." - Michael Cho, Shoplifter

Hello, friends! Book Review Wednesday returns with another mandatory school reading! (Hip hip!)

When Corrina Park finally got her English degree, she had a plan--move to the city, get a day job to eliminate crippling debt, and write, write, write, until she becomes the author she always wanted to be. Five years later, though, she's still working at the same ad agency, no real friends, no romance on the horizon, and she hasn't written a real word since graduation. Bored, tired, and frustrated, she starts shoplifting from the local convenience store to shake things up. Soon, she develops the perfect strategy, and slipping magazines between the pages of her newspaper soon become the highlight of her days.

Petty theft is far from the meaning she's looking for, but how can one find themselves when they're lost in the crowd of a big city?

First of all, it was really, really hard to disassociate this book with my future. Notice the keywords--crippling debt and English degree and author...I mean, good 'ol Cho here is basically acting as a mystic determining destiny. It is very, very easy to picture myself falling into this same trap, which is utterly terrifying and also somewhat comforting, considering that she ends up in some form of inner peace by the end of it. (Uh...spoilers?)

I think, out of all the books I've been reading for my Canadian Comics class, this one (along with Two Generals) had some of my favourite styles in it. I loved the two toned look, the "lost line" style, and just the way he drew the city scape in general. (I'm writing my end-of-term research paper on Shoplifter's city setting, so that last bit isn't really all that surprising.) It was just very aesthetically pleasing to read, especially compared to some of the other, more disorienting styles I've encountered in the course.

One of my biggest problems with this read, though, was that the resolution seemed almost...too quick? Her frustrations took an almost 180, resulting in a very neat and tidy resolution that didn't really...fit with the way the rest of the book had gone. I did like the ending, though, and how open and hopeful it felt. I thought it left Corrina in a very good place, far enough from where she started to give us a good resolution (even if it did feel sudden), but not far enough that we were introduced to too many different plot points.

Final rating: 3.5/5.

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

The Creative Process

Sometimes, I envy the people who want to be lawyers. Or the people who want to be doctors. Or the people who are happy studying business or economics or science or something else that can lead them to getting well respected jobs and earning crap tons of cash. I envy the people who were never told, "Oh, neat, you want to be a CEO! But what else?"

When it comes to a job like that, there is no "what else". You go to school, you make connections, you get a job. The process is simple. "Simple" doesn't necessarily mean "easy", of course--if it was easy then everyone would do it. What I mean is that, generally, there's a certain set path for achieving these things--it's not concrete, and people vary from it all the time, but nobody is ever left on the front step of their high school the day after graduation without a clue as to where to go next. 

That's how I felt for a long time--heck, I still feel that way sometimes. Like someone dropped me in the middle of a forest and told me to find my own way back--sure, I'll get there eventually. I just have no clue how, because, hello, you didn't think to give me a map, asshole.

In just about every author interview I've read / watched / listened to, there is at least--at least--one question asked about their process. "What's a typical day in your life?" "Where do you get your ideas?" "What's your process like?" I can't blame people for asking these questions--I want to know, too. Last year, when I was struggling to figure out exactly where I should be, what role I should play, how to go about this incredibly complex career path, I spent a lot of time reading author bios. I'd pick books off my shelf and read the "About the Author" blurb at the back, I'd visit official author websites and blogs, I'd scour over those very same interviews I just mentioned.

You know what I was looking for? A manual. A master plan, a grand "How To", a sign so I could tell whether my approach was right or incredibly wrong. I like to follow instructions, but that's pretty damn hard when I have no instructions to follow.

But the thing is, there really isn't one, and trying to find one will just confuse you even more. This profession has no required credentials, but for every writer who didn't go to school there's another who did and insists that it's valuable. There's no real "right" way to craft your stories; some people who preach the act of writing every day, and there are some who scoff at the idea entirely. Even publication itself isn't simple--you can get a literary agent, or represent yourself; you can publish with a professional publishing house, or do it yourself online; self publishing can be done exclusively online or through an independent printing press....IT'S JUST TOO MUCH.

I'm willing to bet that just about every author behind every book that's sitting on your shelf right now got to where they are in a drastically different way. It's super intimidating, and scary, because how the hell am I supposed to know if I'm doing it right?

But that's the beauty of it, too. It brings a certain excitement to the table, because the possibilities are literally endless. It's overhwelming, sometimes, the amount of decisions I have to make and the number of options I have on the table in front of me. But if my biggest problem is that I have too many options, I think I'm doing pretty good.

I mean, people are still expecting a "realistic" career choice out of you, so what have you really got to lose, anyhow?

Until later,

- Justyne

When I Grow Up

When I was little--like six or seven--I wanted to be an artist. While that sounds very broad, I had a specific idea in my head. To seven-year-old me, being an artist meant drawing and making crafts. Do you remember the show Art Attack? Think of the guy who hosted that--he was my inspiration.

That idea was short-lived, though, because one day I came to the realization that I actually wasn't very good at art, period. Which, when you stop to think about it, is a very bleak thing for a seven-year-old to realize. Nevertheless, I gave up my childhood dream of being an artist, and decided that I would have to pick something else--which I did. A couple years later, I discovered my love of writing and storytelling, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Except it really isn't. At least, not the whole history.

Around the time I started high school, I started to re-develop my interest in visual arts. I took inspiration from Japanese comics and from video games and Disney movies. I filled up one sketchbook, then two, then three. I started developping comic concepts and ideas and, suddenly, all of my stories started to take on a visual form. Soon enough, my writing fell to the backburner as I dedicated my time to this new craft.

I didn't doubt my writing. Surprisingly, that's the one thing about my self that I've always been confident about. I just saw a new world that I had never properly explored, a new skill that needed practice and development. I saw a whole new world of stories that I could create and express better through pictures than I could through words alone.

I was still confident about my skills as a writer, sure, but what of my future? Could I do both? Could I write my novels, while creating comics at the same time? Could I make equal content on both sides, or would I have to choose? Already it was looking like I would--I was already struggling to juggle both of them.

And still, my eyes drifted. I noticed the up-and-coming YouTubers, with their vlogs and mini series and comedy sketches. My initial university searches had me looking at film programs, because God, wouldn't that be cool? I started seeing animation in a whole new light; I developed an appreciation for it, and admired people who taught themselves and learned the craft completely on their own.

All at once, I didn't just have one dream, one fantasy of being a novelist; I had dozens. I pictured myself at Disney's studios, slaving away at their next feature film. I pictured myself making YouTube videos, filming and editing them, all by myself. I want to write short stories, collections of micro fiction, children's books. I want to make web comics nad graphic novels and try my hand at writing a movie script. I want to do all of it, and more.

When people ask me what I want to do with my life--or "what I want to be when I grow up"--my answer is, automatically, to write. That's not a lie--I do want to write. But I want to do more than that, too.

I don't just want to write--I want to tell stories, in any media I can. I want to create stuff, all day long, for the rest of my life. I don't want to be defined by just oen thing, one skillset. I want to be able to make all sorts of things, and let my stories reach all sorts of people.

Seven-year-old me had it right all along--I want to be an artist.

For so long, I struggled to find My Thing. I tried to narrow my life down, to find that one skill or passion that I could follow for the rest of my life. But you can't narrow your life down to just one thing. There will always be other shiney hobbies and skills and worlds calling out to you, begging to be explored. That's what I'm doing now; I'm making the things I want to make, right now, in any way I can.

Because that is what I want to be when I grow up.


Until later,

- Justyne