Reading, Writing, and a Love Letter

Reading: Is there anything that that quote left unsaid? This is why I love reading.

Writing: All writers read. How amazing it would be if I could write something that would make my reader feel the things it described. It would be the ultimate satisfaction.

A Love Letter: Because of the aforementioned, the book I'm currently reading crossed my mind. The love letter below, I feel, is one I could have written myself. Or anyone, really. Who doesn't fall in love that way? The writer took the words from my mind. To find a writer like that is kismet. But destiny has a funny way of going about its business. I would never have bought that book if Fully Booked didn't hold a sale. I almost didn't buy it because of its title. And because it cost 50 pesos. But I said, what the heck. It's only 50 pesos, you miser. And I NEEDED to read a book. 

This love letter. This is me, in love.

Dear Goat,

How does one fall in love? Do you trip? Do you stumble, lose your balance and drop to the sidewalk, graze your knee, graze your heart? Do you crash to the stony ground? Is there a precipice, from which you float, over the edge, forever?

I know I’m in love when I see, I know when I long to see you. Not a muscle has moved. Leaves hang unruffled by any breeze. The air is still. I have fallen in love without taking a step. When did this happen? I haven’t even blinked.

I’m on fire. Is that too banal for you? It’s not, you know. You’ll see. It’s what happens. It’s what matters. I’m on fire.

I no longer eat. I forget to eat. Food looks silly to me, irrelevant. If I even notice it. But I notice nothing. My thoughts are full and raging, a house full of brothers, related by blood, feuding blood feuds: I’m in love ——Typically stupid choice —— I am, though, I’m racked by love as if love were pain —— Go ahead. Fuck up your life. It’s all wrong and you know it. Wake up. Face it. —— There’s only one face, it’s all I see, awake or asleep.

I threw the book out the window last night. I tried to forget. You are all wrong for me, I know, but I no longer care for my thoughts unless they’re thoughts of you. When I’m close to you, I feel you hair brush my cheek when it does not. I look away from you, sometimes. Then I look back.

When I tie my shoes, when I peel an orange, when I drive my car, when I lie each night without you, I remain,

As ever,

Ram

— The Love Letter, by Cathleen Schine.

The Book Thief and Bookstores

“Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you’ve finished just to stay near it.”

—	THE BOOK THIEF, MARKUS ZUSAK.

That's what I felt with The Book Thief. 

I Am happy to finally be owning a copy of Markus Zusak's The Book Thief . I was surprised to find out that it belonged to the Young Adult Section. I mean, I always thought it was a novel, written in a different but beautiful way. I don't think it should be confined to YA. But, as I found out, Zusak is a YA writeer and I want to read more of his works!

I read The Book Thief last year, but this was first published 2006, and it was available in our bookstores only recently. It should've been available when it was first published. The problem is, bookstores here are never ahead of the market. They sell what has been tested and proven to be bestsellers. So too bad, other Zusak novels, you won't be available here until Markus Zusak has a book-turned-into-movie. :'(

Let me paint you a picture: The books on the bestsellers shelf, the one you immediately see when you enter the bookstore, are those books that have been turned to a movie, or have been endorsed by a very popular local celebrity, or is a vampire series. For example, Twilight is on the shelf, as well as The Percy Jackson series, and the Blue Blood series, and Nicholas Sparks novels, and Paulo Coehlo. Mostly nowadays I just see VAMPIRE SERIES, which make me sick. When will this obsession with vampires end? Really.

So the really good books are either unavailable or have very few copies of them left. Which is understandable because books are luxuries here.

I can't wait to finally be able to afford as many books as I want, and to live in a place where bookstores sell almost every book imaginable.

Something romantic

She looked into those eyes that pierce through her soul. She remembered how he would move with subtle grace, oh so natural, yet with such strength. He had a bearing that says he’s self-assured and you’d feel he can take care of everything unselfishly. He still had humility, he was goofy but when you needed an ear, he’d listen and had a lot of things to say about one thing and even more with just one look. She always liked talking to him, he understood her perfectly well. All these qualities were overwhelming her and she couldn’t help but smile and then sigh.

“What’s the problem?” he asked. So typical – as if he wasn’t aware of his charms.

“You can be so dense sometimes” she said exasperatedly. Though to whom she was irritated with she wasn’t sure: him or herself. She sighed again as if expelling the bad air out of her system.

Constance looked at his eyes straight on. “It’s just I can’t take this anymore. You’re so darn good looking and we get along so well. Being with you is beyond any fantasy I’ve ever had. You’re the culmination of every dream guy I ever imagined. It’s so unbelievable! Needless to say, I like you a lot.”

She slid against the refrigerator to the floor and looked up at him, emphasizing even more their height differences. There was a long silence. “You’re also very dangerous. I can’t even think anymore when I’m with you,” she closed her eyes and attempted to rest. Confessing like that took the toll out of her.

“Stan…” he said. She felt him crouch to her level and opened her eyes to see his face very close to hers.

“Oh please, Dmitri, do not even think of kissing me right now. I poured my heart and soul to you and I want to hear what you have to say,”

Dmitri leaned back. "First of all, who said anything about kissing you? Aren't we a little too full of ourselves?"


To an outsider, this would be considered the worst reply to a love confession of all time. But this was Dmitri. So she started to punch him in the arm, but lost heart because this was becoming a cliche. She laughed instead. "Oh God, you're right. We should probably get started on those croissants." Constance started to get up.


"No, wait." Dmitri said. "I think it's only fair that we should continue what you started.  You wanna hear my say right?" He looked at Constance with an enigmatic look in his eyes. He was holding her down by her shoulders. He smiled slightly. "I happen to think you're amazing. You're not like other women, are you? I like being with you so much, I don't know how not to know how to act with you. I know how when you get hold of a retractable pen, you can't not use it without pushing it a thousand times first. I love how (insert everything that Dmitri loves about Constance here). But now...you caught me completely off guard." 


Constance was stunned. But not stunned enough to say this. "Okay, you can kiss me now."


-- February 8, 2009




this is what you get when you read Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
It really was a culmination of my fantasies. If this were turned into a romance novel, this would take part in the middle-to-end. I was envisioning this happen in a kitchen, in a bed-and-breakfast or something.


 My God this was so cheesy. I still laugh whenever I read this. But this would be my dream guy. Because he would only exist in dreams. I loved fantasizing about him. ;)


I had noticed that I wrote this on February two years ago, and now I'm reposting this on a February. Is this the Valentine's Day effect? whut?!


The ones in Italics are the ones I recently added. After two years, that was what I could add. I'm so sleepy and clueless as to what Dmitri would say, that I didn't get to finish his monologue. I just can't write love stories. Or stories. Period. I can only write snippets. I'm lame. I know.

The lover of books

A bug, rather, a very small insect, lands on the 84th  page of the book I'm reading. It's black, and its three eyes, if they ARE eyes, look like black furballs. When I try to blow it away, it resists, choosing to stay on that page. I don't want to squish it on purpose. Maybe it likes to read too. Maybe it's savoring the smell of the paper, like I do, especially the brand new ones.

I see these bugs all the time, squashed between a book, dead. A bookbug. I wonder if it loves books so much, that to it, to die within a book, its last sight those of words, is a glorious way to die.

You grabbed my heart and squeezed it.

Note:

I have this bad habit habit of not finishing what I started. This draft was made by me months ago, and I still haven't finished it!

I'm in the middle of my review and I just felt like I wanted to blog something and this is what I found. I actually made a draft of this entire article in one of my journals, which isn't at hand right now. And I just know it would be time-consuming to think up of a description for every one of these books. Plus, I've read books that I want to add on this list since the day I made this draft. For now, all I can give is this list, and the description for A Walk to Remember.

Weeks ago, I said I'd make a list of books that affected my life or those I can never forget. I also thought I'd make a review of every one of those books. After reviewing the books I've read, I found a pitiable list. Looks like my reading life has mostly composed of romances, children's books, and books i breezed through just to pass the time.

But then, the list that I DO have, may be the books that I have needed all along. A person may read only one book and it'd be the sole turning point of one's life.

Generally, almost all the books I have read did affect my life. Because the words I read influence me.

I made two separate lists: (1) Books that I can never forget and (2) Books that made me cry.How can I say that a book affected my LIFE? It was much easier to list down those books that made me cry. There were a few of them.  And it was easier to list down books that had an unforgettable attachment to me.

Books that easily come to mind for the 1st list are:

• The first books I owned: a book about Sesame Street and another whose title I forgot
• Bobbsey Twins adventures
• Pride of the Peacock by Victoria Holt
• The Thief of Always by Clive Barker
• The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller
• Ain't She Sweet by Susan Elizabteh Phillips
• A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks
• The Alchemist
• What to do until love finds you by Michelle McKinney-Hammond
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
• Ripples of Joy compiled by Cheryl Kirking

Out of those I can only surely say that the book I listed last affected my life. Hmmm...more of that later.

Books that grabbed my heart, squeezed it, and made tears pour out of me:

• A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks
• Ain't She Sweet? by Susan Elizabteh Phillips
• Border Music by Robert James Waller
• The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller
• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
• Ripples of Joy compiled by Cheryl Kirking

  The last two especially ripped my heart out.


A Walk to Remember grabbed my heart when Langdon gave his savings to Jamie's cause anonymously. I was teary-eyed when Langdon said, when he looked at Jamie beneath the Xmas tree, he realized he had fallen in love with her without knowing it. And then continued to pour after reading the last word. Haha..cheezy..I know...I was 14(?)...and Sparks did a good job in writing it. I've read Walk about 6 times, I think. I still feel a tug at my heart when I do.



(to be continued).