You Can't Get Any Where In Life If You Give Up, And That Goes For Reading Too.

Some people are picky eaters, I'm a picky reader.

Why!?!??!?! I absolutely detest how difficult it is for me to pick a book I like. I honestly went through about a week (shhh don't tell anyone) where I wasn't reading before I came across Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Don't get me wrong, I was reading! But I wasn't reading whole books. I was reading blurbs and first chapters and first sentences and first words.

Everything was SO boring.

At first I was annoyed... Why couldn't I find any books?! Was something going on where every book in the history of the world was not interesting? Or was it me? Was I not giving it a chance?

The fact of the matter is I am just a really picky reader. Which got me thinking: I don't want to spend the rest of my reading life having to worry about investing more time in finding the right book than it would take to read it.

Then I thought about this: The way a book begins is basically the most important part of the book. As a future writer, I want to draw in as many readers as I can, I want to change as many lives as I can with my words. BUT: My biggest fear is that I loose thousands of readers because I didn't make the first sentence make you want to read more. And then read another sentence and another and another until the words that you have created are part of another person's life and heart.

It is so important to me, not just as a writer but as a fellow reader, as I am an always will be one, that every book I read is exciting and wonderful and makes me sad when I have to put it down.

Unfortunately for me though, I'm not the kind of amazing reader I wish I was that didn't care how boring the beginning of a book was. Because while beginnings are important, there's always the rest of the book to look forward to. I guess as I grow up and continue to live in the world of literature I'll have to give books "second chances." I'll have to teach myself to think every time I think the first sentence is ugly, that there's more and more and more ahead of me.

My mom always says to me when she thinks I'm not reading enough: "To be a great writer, you have to read." And I wish I could say, "I know, I know..." And actually mean it. Sometimes I feel like either I'm too lazy, or, I just really care about what I'm reading, and prefer not to waste any time reading a terrible book while I could be reading a life changing one.

But then that seems a little over-dramatic and then I feel awful because I think I am in fact lazy. The thing is though, I'm not. I just read slower because I think a lot, maybe even too much. And I don't read a lot of books because I'm constantly searching for the right one.

And how special that is, when you do find a book. And how weird that is, when you're done, and you realize, wow. Here I am again. And then I think to myself, that there must be hundreds of more books in the world that will make me feel the same way. "WOW."

And maybe that's one of the reasons that I'm in such a rush to grow up, move on in life, break away from middle school. Because I want to continue to be introduced to amazing books. And read them and love them and live them and then, the best part: Sharing them with others.

I feel so proud to hand someone a book and say to them, "Read this one." And then they do. And they love it. And I just have to sit back for a second and think, "That was because of me."

And they'll introduce it to someone else who will show it to someone else and so on and so on.

Reading is just one big community, one big concept that can connect everyone in the world.

All you need to do is taking a chance.

Read a little past the first sentence.

Love These Guys.

GREEN BAY ALL THE WAY.

GO PACK GO.

GOTTA LOVE THE GREEN AND GOLD.

HEY, IF WE LOSE, I'M ONLY GONNA LOVE THEM MORE.

I Hate Titles. This Post Says Enough.

So. I'm officially obsessed with The Social Network.

I talk about it all the time, and cried when I heard that Jesse Eisenberg was hosting SNL.

You'd think that as someone who knows every line and scene of the movie, it would be easy for me to answer the question: "What is it about the movie that you like?"

But.

The problem is, I have no idea how to answer that question.

I just get so caught up in my love for the movie that I don't leave enough time to really think about what makes the movie so amazing. (Besides the really cute actors.)

I recently figured out the answer: The movie isn't all facts. I thought it would be a movie that would spit out information and that was that.

I was wrong. DUH.

What the movie is about, based on my opinion, is the fact that fame and fortune can ruin everything for you, including the strongest friendship.

Mark and Eduardo were always there for each other, but Mark's fame turns him into a different person, a person who becomes blind to friendship, and only sees his and facebook's popularity.

Two Mexicanos Lynched in Santa Cruz, California, May 3, 1877

More than the moment
when forty gringo vigilantes
cheered the rope
that snapped two Mexicanos
into the grimacing sleep of broken necks,

more than the floating corpses,
trussed like cousins of the slaughterhouse,
dangling in the bowed mute humility
of the condemned,

more than the Virgen de Guadalupe
who blesses the brownskinned
and the crucified,
or the guitar-plucking skeletons
they will become
on the Día de los Muertos,

remain the faces of the lynching party:
faded as pennies from 1877, a few stunned
in the blur of execution,
a high-collar boy smirking, some peering
from the shade of bowler hats, but all
crowding into the photograph.

At first, I didn't like this poem. I'm not a cruel person, but I really wasn't enjoying myself. I hated how frustrated I was feeling, and I hated how it ended. I was angry at myself for not realizing one of the biggest things that Martin Espada is trying to tell the reader.

What I think is so mind blowing, what is so "wow" about this poem is the fact that it's about more than the execution, it's also about the fact that two men are being killed. It's the sickening idea that all the spectators care about is the credit that they are going to get for being there. That they are being blinded by the celebrity of it that they can't see lives being taken right in front of them.

Why does that make sense? Does it? Is this what was making me so frustrated? That two people who were once living are now dead and all the people watching can do is care about the fame and applause they're going to get for being there?

And as much as I'm pleased that I've found a connection to the greatest movie of all time, I'm almost disgusted by the meaning of both the poem and the movie. Why does fame and celebrity make you blind to everything around you. Why does it make you throw away friendship, why does it change you? Why are you no longer affected by everything going on before you? Because all you can see and all you can think about is being able to say, "Yeah. I was there. Mhm."

It annoys me that that's who we become when we are faced with fame.

It turns us into monsters.

And the most frustrating part: That Martin Espada is describing only a few people being stunned. Hey, this is just me, but I know that I would be scared out of my mind to be in an environment where someone, two people, were having their lives taken away from them.

It wouldn't matter to me whether or not I would get credit for being there, or whether or not I would be in some useless photograph.

I would be watching someone die.

Does that mean anything to anyone?

I Love These Guys... But Not As Much As I Love The Packers.

I continue to look up to Tomin as a writer, hopefully he will always be a mentor for me. Something I can never seem to accomplish very well are harsh but wise criticisms. Tomin is constantly my example for a brilliant but tough insight on things. Here is a post we can all relate to, his thoughts about Please Don't Take My Air Jordans by Reg E. Gains. What I loved the most while reading this response was how many times I found my self saying, "I was thinking that exact same thing." And then feeling annoyed and wondering why I didn't have the courage to post something so bold and brave like that on my blog. Good for Tomin for always having the bravery and not having a fear of anything coming out too harsh. If anything, that's what makes his writing stronger. Another note, Tomin also proves that you don't need to write 20 pages to get across a heavy and important message. With a writer like him, you only need 3 paragraphs. Excellent work!


Julia, I love you with all my heart. I knew she was a smart girl, but I had no idea that she was a gorgeous writer too. Such complexity is packed into the littlest of lines, such flow and easiness (is that a word??) when reading. I remember reading one of her poems and continuing to say, "wow" over and over again. Eventually my sister came over to me and yelled, "Why the heck are you talking to yourself?!" Oh well. Julia wrote a very intense poem, so intense I had to ask her if she wrote it before I even sat down to write this post. She talks about regret, and the tragedy it is not to feel welcome, the things you have to do to be at home, the mistakes you have to make to be rejected. Julia's words hurt, but they are the truth. They are cold and heart breaking. She has a certain feeling of comfort which I love in her voice: that she likes what she is writing and is confident that we will too. I learned a lot from her, and will continue to be inspired by her obvious talent.

Last but not least is Pia. May I first say, it takes a lot to write a wonderful reading response, but her words in general, in a conversation or in a post on other's writing being written well is beautiful. Pia doesn't have to try, it's a natural ability she has- she is a writer. In this post, Pia speaks of the sadness of having a father that's not stepping up to plate, that's not being an actual father. Just like Tomin's post it's quick but smart. It's true and unique. And, Pia makes connections I never would have if I were reading her book. Connections to our evolving as teenagers and our constant need to perfect everything in the world. Pia does something that acknowledges the whole point of the reading response, not only she writing gorgeously, she's making me want to read the book. And wasn't that the whole point from the beginning?

Good job to everyone, I can't wait to read your next piece.