via Daily Prompt: Denial
I’m sorry? No. This isn’t a half-assed throwaway post, it’s a serious piece of writing. I don’t know what you’re implying, but you clearly don’t understand what you’re talking about. Good day to you, Sir and/or Madam. I said, good day!
Daily Prompt: Denial
My definition of a champion has changed over the years. In child and young adulthood, I was full of idealism and engrossed in fantasy worlds such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Lord of the Rings. Though full of epic challenges and deadly battles, the moral framework of such worlds is beautifully, impractically simple. There are bad guys, and you know exactly who they are and why they are wrong, and your own innate goodness is validated by your very opposition to them.
As I grew older, though my love for the fantasy narratives that helped to shape my appreciation of the genre never faded, I began to appreciate stories with more shades of grey, characters with motivations more complex and difficult to pin down. In such stories, it can be difficult to separate the champions from the villains. In life, it is often impossible to do so.
As a child I idolised Buffy, fantasising about slaying demons and monsters, and being strong enough to defeat anything. Later in life, I faced my own very real struggles with anxiety and depression, and I began to fear that there are fights that can’t be won, no matter how hard you try. I was wrong. Trying every day is winning. It makes us all champions. In the little victories as well as the big ones.
And if the night ever does seems a little too dark and full of terrors, and I’m on the verge of losing hope in the world we live in – there’s always a story waiting, full of adversity and triumph and salvation, to remind me that the art we create reflects the possibilities and potential we hold, and that is a beautiful thing.
Daily Prompt – Champion
The Devil You Know isn’t a perfect book by any means, but it was more than good enough to make me want to read the rest of the Felix Castor series.
I liked the protagonist. Felix is a funny and likeable character without feeling forced or stilted, and with just enough of a tinge of flawed humanity to make him interesting and sympathetic.
I really liked the premise. An alternate present in which society at large has been forcibly convinced of the existence of ghosts by the sudden and unexplained exodus of souls back to the mortal plane. It’s intriguing enough and it allows exorcists and demon-hunters to function in this fictional setting without the need for secrecy and the laborious covering up of their supernatural doings which can plague some modern fantasy fiction.
Felix’s backstory and the supporting characters were interesting, and I hope they get fleshed out in future instalments. I thought the main plot of the book was compelling and enjoyable, dynamic enough to keep my interest without getting bogged down by too much complexity and badly-realised ambition. Sure, it was obvious who the killer was going to be all along. And yes, you would expect a smart character like Fix to be able to puzzle some of the more obvious mysteries out a little quicker than he did (ICOE? Really? It took you the entire book, Castor). And I really feel the book could have done without the final chapter, which took Juliet’s depiction from decent-if-a-little-flat to what-the-hell-that-is-ridiculous-a-demon-wouldn’t-even-I-need-a-drink.
Overall, four stars, an enjoyable read and promising series for me to devour.
July is about to end, we’re more than halfway through 2013 and a quick mental evaluation of the year so far leaves me with an oddly mixed feeling of stress and optimism.
I’ve been in a bit of a rut for the past year, creatively, socially, financially, professionally–pretty much every way. The trouble with ruts is that the longer you spend stuck in one, the harder it is to haul yourself out. The solution I came up with, naturally, has been to quit my job and move across the country. It seemed to make sense when I came to the decision…
So right now I’m trying to secure somewhere to live, looking for new employment and contemplating the imminent prospect of becoming a student again (this time just for a one-year Publishing MA course). It’s all incredibly stressful and frightening and very, very exciting. I can’t remember the last time I was this energised and enthusiastic and all it took was the determination to actually do something, take a risk and desperately hope that it pays off, because I’m young and I can and if I wait and see then in five years or ten years or forty years I’ll still be standing in exactly the same place, waiting and seeing.
So that’s the state of my year. I’ve ripped it all apart hoping that it will come back together and, if I work really hard and try my very best, maybe I’ll be better for it.
Daily Prompt: State of Your Year
I find it really hard to switch off. I don’t sleep a lot. I’ve recently started jogging, but so far I’ve been too busy feeling like it’s killing me for it to de-stress me at all. I don’t cook, I like knitting but I lack the patience for anything but short bursts. I love writing, but that takes concentration and a buzzing mind so it doesn’t really lend itself to chilling out.
So when I need to switch off and de-stress, I read. Reading takes me out of my own mind and stops me obsessing and overthinking, even for a brief period of time. It lets me immerse myself in somebody else’s story, and for as long as I can remember that has fascinated me. Getting involved in a story is the most distracting and relaxing thing I can think of. Even if the book is tragic or terrifying or infuriating, it gives me a chance to switch off everything else, everything real and difficult and personal, and put all my investment temporarily in a fictional world. And when I stop reading and resume regular thinking and worrying and living, I’m better for having had that time to lose myself in a good book. That’s how I get ‘in the zone’, and I’d be lost without it.
Daily Prompt: The Zone
This weekend I’ve been staying in Torquay. The weather’s been suspiciously perfect for it and it’s been lovely. When I checked into the B&B I was confronted by this accurate metaphor for life at the bottom of the stairs:
I’m on the top floor, but it wasn’t too hard a climb to my room. I’m still trying to reach success, but I live in hope.
I’ve also been reliably informed by this next sign that I’m not allowed to catch my own dinner. I’m tired of being held back by all the damned rules, man.
Weekly Photo Challenge: The Sign Says