the invention of hugo cabret--and perhaps a new literary genre

I don't know how many of you have heard of this book by Brian Selznick, but it is absolutely wonderful. You should all try and get a copy in the next week and spend a few hours (although it shouldn't take more than two) reading it with a cup of hot tea and perhaps a crumpet. Actually, make that some crepes, as this is set in France. Seriously--I don't care how you get it, just get it. I got my copy by convincing my mother to buy it "for the family." I then stole it and brought it to college where it is on my bookshrine (otherwise known as a bookshelf). And really, I do not think I can part with it, because I am in love.

Why is this book so amazing? you ask. Well, look up there at that title. New literary genre? you say. Pshh. What a load of old tosh. Not so, I say, because what this man has done is integrated words and illustrations in possibly the coolest way I never thought possible. It is not a picture book, par say, as picture books generally have images that correspond to the writing on the page. What Selznick has done is to tell his story half in illustrations and half in words. So here is why I find this so incredibly awesome:

1. What a BRILLIANT way to get kids to read. I know that there are kids out there who can't stand to read and get frustrated when they are forced into reading chapter books--because come on--there are no pictures! And I also know there are kids who try and jump into books that are too long and complicated for them, just so they can boast they've read it as they hold up a book bigger than their head. This books solves both of those problems. Kids who are tentative to start chapter books will LOVE it because so much of it goes by in pictures and they will be encouraged when the pages start to fly by. It creates the illusion that they are fast readers which, even though it might not be true, can only help to boost their confidence as readers. And yes, every kid likes to boast about the longest book they've read, and this book, at over 500 pages, is thicker than almost all of the Harry Potter books. HOLY MOLY.

2. He didn't just write it, he drew it. The illustrations are absolutely phenomenal. It really is amazing how easily and creatively a story can be told with no words, and just pencil drawings. It also shows visually (at least to a person, like me, who is thinking about how to tell a story) how stories begin. We watch the moon set over the glowing city of Paris, then see the sunrise over a Paris train station. We then follow Hugo as he runs through the station, looking behind him to make sure he's not followed. Just from the pictures, we know that he's done this before. We can tell that the old man is suspicious just from a look in his eye. So, just from the images in the beginning, we have discovered the setting, characters, tension, and conflict.

3. The first words in the book are: "From his perch behind the clock, Hugo could see everything." And it comes on page 46. Just from the beginning images, we know how Hugo got to his perch, what he's looking for specifically, and that he has clearly been to this perch before.

Honestly, I cannot rave about this book enough. True, it's mostly because of his use of craft, but the story is pretty great too. Here is one of my favorite quotes (though most of my favorite quotes from this book are pictures):

"As I look out on all of you gathered here, I want to say that I don't see a room full of Parisians in top hats and diamond silk dresses. I don't see bankers and housewives and store clerks. No. I address you all tonight as you truly are: wizards, mermaids, travelers, adventurers, and magicians. You are the true dreamers" (506).

5. They are making it into a movie. Of course they are. While I do think that the movie version will cause it to lose a lot of it's charm (as it is not only his words that they are cutting out, but also his images), this trailer looks fantastic. I have to say, I'm actually excited to see it. Because as much as I will miss the pictures (and the act of reading), I'm pretty sure what he has done in writing and drawing this book is lay out the movie plan (there is a word for this but I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it is). Maybe, then, because he has literally drawn it out, the movie makers will stay true to what is in the book.



How come we don't ever talk about moonset and moonrise? And why is moonset, apparently, not a word?
L.R. Ogden

damn plotholes

Here is what just happened to me:

I was cruising along at about 50 wpm (words per minute), when all of a sudden my tire was completely blown to smithereens and my auto-creativity came to a schreeching, stomach-ache making, terribly sudden stop.  Ladies and gentlemen, I have hit a plothole.  Quite a large one, actually.

Here is the issue that will make sense to almost no one:

Charlotte's family knows where she is.  In my head, that worked because they had collaborated with Emmilina's family and looked at their credit card bill, noticing that they were on this train.  Only Emmilina's family cannot yet know that they are gone, as the police have only Charlotte's picture.  Conundrum.  And, of course, my story is technically due in.. one hour and seven minutes.  And probably less by the time I finish this post.

So HOW DO CHARLOTTE'S PARENTS FIND HER?  Without the help of the Maqueri's?  Can I just go on and deal with this later?  Like have them have noticed that she had been talking about Montana a lot? Ohhh struggles...

So, I think I will just deal with it later.  God I am tired.  Tune in later for some great butterbeer/pumpkin juice/firewhisky recipes.  They were all very good.

I used to LOVE broccoli with ketchup,
L.R. Ogden

that mystical mythical land

Honestly, I feel like I have grown up so much in the past few weeks.  Yes, yes--I grew up so much when I was abroad, but that was a growing up of a different kind.  Rather like maturing.  This growing up I've done in the past few weeks is that kind where I realize HOLY SHIT what I am going to do with the rest of my life?

Here is my conundrum: ever since I was in kindergarten, there has always been that "life after college" idea looming over my head.  "Oh yeah," I'd say, "aftercollege I'm going to become a teacher and get married and have kids." Or "aftercollege I'm going to travel the world." Or, "aftercollege I'm going to ride a bike from California to New York and go to all the ice cream stores and then write a book about it."  (Because wouldn't that be awesome?!?)  But here's the thing--"aftercollege" was never really a real thing.  It was just a mystical, mythical far off land that was filled with whimsy and wonder and paychecks and a lot more job opportunities than there seem to be...

Aftercollege was supposed to be simple.  It was supposed to happen naturally. Instead, I'm finding that the land is coming towards me at an alarming pace.  It's no longer a country, but an asteroid that is hurtling towards me and will undoubtedly hit me on the head in a very painful way.  I'm already getting the little hail stones, in the form of, "What are you doing after college?" and "What are your plans for May?"  The worst is when someone my own age or younger asks, because then all I want to say is "I don't F***en know--what are you doing, smarty pants?"  Only then it's bad if they have an actual answer, at which point I feel even stupider.

I don't want to seem, however, like I am complaining about the fact that I will graduate. I'm excited to graduate (another word that for some reason still has little meaning to me).  I will find a job, or I will write a novel.  I'll be fine, no worries.  So long as I finish this essay that I'm only halfway done with... that's due in about seven hours... Oy.

But anyways, I should mention something about literature, or something, no?  I feel something is amiss when I do not.  So, let's talk about American Literature, just for a second, because I really do need to write an essay.  On the use of sex as a device to break down binaries in Toni Morrison's Sula, if you must know.  Yeah.  That's right.  It's legit.

So, I have realized in the recent past (namely the past six months that I spent in England), that I like British literature so much better than American literature.  Don't get me wrong--I love a good reading of Ramona Quimby, Age 8, and anything written by Louis Sachar or Lois Lowry or To Kill a Mockingbird.  Yes, there is a long list.  But it does not compare to the list I have of favorite books by English authors.  England has Harry Potter, we have Twilight.  England has His Dark Materials, and we have The Hunger Games.  Bummer.

But, I think I need to start reading some good old American Literature. And I refuse, steadfastly refuse, to start with Emerson or Thoreau, because as blasphemous as it is for an English major to say this--they have put me to sleep every time I try to open their writings.  Every time.  I need to reread The Great Gatsby, I need to read The Grapes of Wrath (sidenote: did you know this was a first draft? As in a rough draft? WOW and I haven't even read it yet).  I need to do some reading.  Also, I need to do some writing.  So I'll pick this up again later.

I have an irrational fear of foam,
L.R. Ogden

you know you're an english major when...

you open up a new document in word and it says, "document 13."
you procrastinate writing with doing other writing.
you no longer think forty pages is very long.
you start to talk about your characters like they are real people.
you are awake at 4:30 am three nights in a row, listening to adele and the sound of typing.
you decide that instead of researching for a senior seminar paper, you will write a blog post on the faults of the latest Harry Potter movie.

So, in an effort to prove to you that yes, I am an English major, let's talk about the Harry Potter movie.  Keep in mind I have only seen this once (yes I know I am very surprised too).  But here you go.

The movie was great--the dragon was fabulous, watching Helena Bonham Carter play Hermione was awesome, and let's be honest, Snape's death scene will definitely stay with me for a very long time.

But.

Here's the thing: they got the ending all wrong.  And yes, I am the first one in line to calm every book obsessed person down and tell them the movies and the books are completely separate entities.  They are going to be different, so we should just enjoy the movies without comparing them too harshly to the books. Nothing could be better than those books, ever.  There was really no hope.  But when they mess up the theme and central idea of the book, this is when I have to put my foot down.  Here are my issues:

Why on earth would Harry have gone up to Hermione and Ron and say, "Hey guys, sorry, but I've got to kick it, nice knowing you."  And then WHY would Hermione say, "I thought it might come to this.  Go on ahead, it's been real" and Ron just stare at him stupidly?  NEVER WOULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED.  Their love for Harry would have overcome their need to defeat Voldemort and they would have tried everything in their power to stop him. 

Neville was an actual hero in the books, and it seemed he was just in the right place in the right time in the movies.  Harry didn't tell him to kill the snake, he just killed it before it ate Ron and Hermione.  And yes, I'll be honest, I did feel rather more attracted to Neville than usual after that, but a huge part of why that was so impressive was because it played a more central role in the books.  He pulls out the sword cause he's Neville and he's snitchin'.  (You see, that is a play on the word bitchin...)  He then does what he knows needs to be done.  Yes, his act was still heroic, but he wasn't able to be appreciated by the crowd as a whole.  Also, his speech would not have been permitted by Voldemort.  Voldemort would have smacked a snitch before letting him rally the troops.  Though movie Voldemort was doing some pretty sketch things anyways, as he won the award when he gave Draco the world's most awkward hug ever.  And I'm including the hug/kiss between Michael Scott and Oscar from The Office.  So you know I mean business.

Harry's whole talk with Dumbledore in the station was all about how love will prevail, violence is not the answer, Harry will survive because of the love he has for his friends, and his friends will survive because Harry gave his life for them. Sacrifice for love and the effect that can have on people plays a huge role in the climax of the books.  Voldemort is effectively killed by his own spell, not by Harry's, and his death belongs to everyone, not just to Harry.  Everyone is there to celebrate and mourn and be relieved.  Everyone earned it. Everyone fought for it.  So I say again, Dumbledore just lectured Harry on the importance of love and the ineffectiveness of violence. So what, then, does Harry do upon returning to the mortal world?

That's right, he has a fist fight with Voldemort.  Nice, Warner Brothers.

Now, I say again, I understand that it is a movie and needs to be action packed and be cinematically impressive.  There definitely were enough special effects to impress me.  So that's fine.  Harry can have a fist fight with Voldemort, whatever.  I'll accept it.  But they needed to then end up in the great hall so they could have that scene where they circle each other and do some talking. These are books.  Both physically and metaphysically, the story is about the importance of words and feelings.  About how strength comes not from casting a spell but from friendship and love and acceptance and intelligence and brother(and sister)hood.  The climax of the series should not have been messed with.  I'm not entirely sure why it was.

Instead, Harry is all on his own when he kills Voldemort. This is just not correct.  Harry is not alone, nor is it his fight alone. Sure, he was the "chosen one," but everyone else was fighting just as hard.  There needed to be a sense of togetherness, a sense that it was bigger than just Harry, because it so was. But instead, Voldemort dies, and that's that. Harry then walks through the great hall, and all the people are just like, "oh hey harry, I hear you've killed Voldemort.  Well done, see you later."  Notice the lack of exclamation points.  There was no swell of emotion, no feeling that YES OMG HE'S FINALLY DEAD WE DID IT BUTTERBEERS ALL AROUND!  And yes, I realize that so many people died, but they have just won the war.  There would be more hugging.  Instead of a climax, it just ends.  He never vindicates Snape to the whole crowd, never explains anything to the room at large.

And why, oh why, would you ever leave out dialouge and tension that is this good?  If you are not interested in reading a section of the last pages, stop reading now.

"'Yeah, [Dumbledore's plan backfired], it did,' said Harry.  'You're right.  But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done.... Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle....'
     'What is this?'
     Of all the things Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract to think slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.
     'It's your one last chance,' saod Harry, 'it's all you've got left.... I've seen what you'll be otherwise.... Be a man... try... Try for some remorse....'
     'You dare--?' said Voldemort again.
     'Yes I dare,' said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all.  It's backfired on you, Riddle.'
     Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly.  The moment, he knew, was seconds away" (741-742).

This entire scene is absolutely amazing, right down to when Harry "saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini," and "the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air.  The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him" and he "could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of the determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last" (744). 

You see?  Why mess with that ending?  No idea, I just have no idea...

Lena, you'll still read the books someday, even though you know the ending, because it's so much more about the how than the what.

I once met a guy who told me his name was "George.  No wait, Tony,"
L.R. Ogden

what kind of writer do i want to be?

That is the question of the week.  Or rather, the semester.  Here are a few things I have been learning recently, both in class and out:

1. An author knows exactly how many pages are in each chapter.  And by god if one chapter rambles on too long, they know about it. And if they are like me, it annoys them half to death.

2. Sitting down and writing a novel sounds a lot more fun when studying for an environmental test is the alternative.  Also, blogposts tend to generate around that same time... I wonder why this is... Damn you biweekly quizzes!

3. You cannot ask a group of creative writing majors what their favorite book is and why, and get a simple answer.  When asked in class, the five of us said things like, "I like so and so book because it really shows the growth of the character and it is very suspenseful and I really like that it was told from this point of view because it showed rather than told..."  You know, things like that.  I even said my favorite was Harry Potter because I liked how it empowered children and young adults and some other BS like that (although that is true--I do like it for that reason).  But really, think about this: what is your favorite book and why do you like it?  Really think about this for a moment.  Then see number ten.

4.  You cannot fool your subconscious. If you are trying to write a story about a chocolate monster but keep on going back to the relationship the main character had with his mother, your story will not end up being about the chocolate monster.  The chocolate monster will become a device that pushes your main character into a realization about his mommy issues and then all of a sudden, your book is an Oedipal story rather than a thriller.

5.  Speaking of Oedipus, imagine this:  Oedipus on the Jerry Springer show.  Okay, hold on, I'll explain.  This is actually about originality--betcha didn't see that one coming.  There is actually very little "original" work that is being created today.  Most everything has been done before--what hasn't been done is the how, the character, and the reaction.  You see, Oedipus wasn't even new for the Greeks.  They saw it knowing that Oedipus kills his father and sleeps with his mother.  They went to see the reaction.  They went because, let's face it, you feel god damned superior when you know something a character doesn't.  You feel like a god.  This is why it works.  Because the readers have to know everything.  The characters don't have to know shit (I swear this is a direct quote from my advisor).  So, back to Jerry Springer.  You had better believe that you would be glued to the set if you saw Oedipus up there with "Slept with his mother and killed his father--doesn't know it yet" under his picture.  You would wait around for his reaction.  To see how this is going to resolve itself.

6.  Everybody dies.  Shocker.  But what this means is, there really aren't any happy endings.  Every story will end this way (unless of course it is fantasy and immortality is involved, but that's a different story and frankly I don't feel like getting into it because I have to study for environmental and it's almost one am).  Which just goes to show you that you read books for the middle.  You read them for the journey.  So go ahead--read the end of the book before you start.  You're still gonna read it.  Cause most of us want to know why so much more than we want to know what.

7.  Epiphanies don't happen in real life.  There is no moment when you have a moment of psychological clarity where everything changes.  Unless, of course, you are Buddha (and even he had to work for it over a long period of time).

8.  I realized that the stories I personally love are the stories that create suspense, dynamic characters, a believable and consistent voice, and great worlds in themselves.  And I realized that most of my absolute favorite books all have inadvertent heroes. Harry Potter, Katniss Everdeen (god I still hate her name...), a lot of Tamora Pierce's characters, The Pevensie children, Frodo, Lyra and Will--none of these children set out to be heroes (or even wanted to be).  Although, okay, Edmund might have started out that way, but he was reformed. But all these characters rose to the challenge.  They made the best of the time that was given to them, as Gandalf would say.  Perhaps why I like these books so much is because it allows all children to feel empowered, as all those characters were once regular joes too. Or maybe it's because I like the idea that greatness is most potent when it is thrust upon someone, rather than searched for for a lifetime.

9.  I have over forty pages of writing now, and I'm heading into new territory.  Bizarre for two reasons: first, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore--I'm just writing so I get everything out now, and second because I am perfectly aware that I will have to rewrite just about forty pages of what I've already written eventually.  Because I'm learning just how much better you get to know your characters the farther you get into a book.  I just had a day long sit down with one of my characters and killed her father.  Clearly she is not too happy with me.

10.  The characters.  This is why you love books.  You love Harry Potter because of, you got it, Harry Potter.  And Sirius, and Ron, and Hermione, and all the Weasleys.  You love Lord of the Rings because Gandalf is a badass (probably you don't love it because of Frodo though, because let's face it--he's super annoying).  You love The Chronicles of Narnia because of the Pevensies.  And specifically High King Peter the Magnificent, if you are anything like me.  Which brings me to an immediate realization: OMG do I actually like Katniss Everdeen?  I must, because I have to say, these books are growing on me.

But (damn now I can't stop--I really have to study!) I have figured out some of the reasons why I am having trouble with the Hunger Games.  Apart from the whole terrible name thing, I mean (also--Brutus?  Really?  Couldn't we be a little more original? Or clever--I know I just said originality almost doesn't exist...).  It's because Suzanne Collins is playing up the Gale/Peeta debate so hardcore.  I mean it is absolutely ridiculous, seeing as Gale has been in the books for a grand total of about ten pages.  Sure, she thinks about him a lot, but he has not been physically present for the entirety of the two books I've read, save maybe four scenes.

So here are my thoughts: it's fine that she wants to do this whole boy team thing--but she could have waited until the third book to bring Gale into the picture.  Because really, a sixteen year old girl who has just lived through an experience like the Hunger Games would fall head over heels in love with not only the only available person who has had the same experience, but also the boy who saved her life and would have given his for hers.  There is no question.  Seriously, put yourself in this position, add a really attractive boy (or girl) and try to imagine a world in which you would then immediately decide you need to get the hell away from this person so they don't marry you.  YOU WOULD BE ATTACHED AT THE HIP PEOPLE! There would be none of this wishy-washy will-they-won't-they mamby-pamby shit.  At least initially.  It would have been so much better, at least in my mind, if she waited to fall for Gale until they were alone in the third one, because the guilt element would be so much stronger and create a MUCH bigger conflict.  Read them, and you will know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, that said, I do really like these books.  Read them.  Read anything.  Go see a play.  Write down what you did today.  Add a swear word (cause apparently I'm all afuckingbout that tonight)--whoops, sorry mother. 

What type of writer do you want to be?

I want to be the published kind.

I'll name my dog High King Peter the Magnificent, but call him Maggie,
L.R. Ogden