Tag: reading

What Do We Watch on Tuesday?

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

If you were a kid in the 90s,  your parents would order a pizza for dinner every Friday night. I don’t know why this was an unspoken rule of weekly take-out, but if it was Friday, you knew that you were going to eat cheesy goodness while watching Sabrina The Teenage Witch, in that order.

Little did you know that your parents were also giving you a taste of adult living at a very young age, while simultaneously setting you up for heart disease. What was a fun way to spend the end of the week suddenly became a rut that you were trudging in by the time you were nearing puberty. Your mouth would start watering on Thursday night in anticipation of the next day: pizza day.

And so it was born: your ambition to work for/treat yourself with the weekend. (To be fair, 5 days of schooling also contributed to this, but hey, positive reinforcement doesn’t help it, either.)

And it is now that I invoke this sort of, blogger’s license, and say that you should break the routine you live in whenever possible (and at the same time, I freely admit that this is a struggle for me as well. I, too, looked forward to pizza at one time.)

But like pizza, routines are unhealthy. (I know, sad truth.)

Now, I’m not going to tell you that life exists outside of your comfort zone. Because you already know that. Yes, if I tell you what you should be doing, it doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t doing it. You’re scared and that’s obvious. We all are, and that’s why we adopt routines in the first place. That’s not a crime, it’s a fact.

No, I want to tell you it is possible to break your routine. It is possible to start something new. It is possible to stop asking, “What’s on television on Tuesday?” Not because you already know, but because you have broken the habit of doing the same thing every Tuesday. Just start small. Watch your normal shows on a Wednesday night instead of a Tuesday. I know, I know, that’s really starting small. But when you convince yourself that change isn’t life-altering, and that it won’t kill you, then you can move up. Try a new restaurant. Read an author you’ve never read.

Then, when you’re comfortable in your new uncomfortableness, keep going. And you’ll realize that the life you were living before wasn’t really living at all.

Routines can be good because they help us to remember what we need to remember in our lives: the car keys, this huge project, that night out with your friends. This is because nothing ever changes. But routines aren’t memorable for the long-term, as days merge into one another as one gray blur. That’s why we need a break from routines from time to time, to feel new things and try new things. To live the life we want to live instead of the life we feel we must.

So, we’ll do it together. We’ll both make small changes in our life so that they add up to something big. Because life is simply that: small moments that add up over the years.

(But don’t worry. This blog will always remain routine without being ordinary.)

Readers Beget Readers?

Bailey Gunn1 Comment

We’re going to go way back for this one.

Once upon a time…is how I ended a lot of my days as a kid. My sister and I would snuggle into our beds and pull our covers up to our chins. Then, sometimes we would have to barter (just one! Pleeeease!) and sometimes we would be given stories freely. Once they started, we had to struggle against the weight of our eyelids to stay awake, but we did our best. We usually had to be briefed about what happened the night before in the book because we had fallen asleep, but we always enjoyed being read to.

By my Dad.

Fast forward to some odd decade when we are two grown adults and are decidedly not sleeping in the same room or being read to anymore. My sister has turned to the dark side, (math) but she enjoys the occasional book. And then there’s me, who will quite literally read anything if it stands still long enough.

And my Dad?

Not counting the books he read to my sister and me, he had only completed a few titles in his entire lifetime. One was a morbid tale about a few hikers who had to go all Dommer on each other at the end of their trip in to the cold tundra. They all had German names so my father, the resourceful man that he is, simply renamed them all with nicknames he could pronounce. (I imagine it was like reading Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevsky. Thankfully, this wasn’t a story he read to us.) But lucky for my Dad, every book nowadays is being made into a movie. So, no reading required. And lucky for me, every book nowadays is being made into a movie. So, all the reading required.

Fast forward a little farther, interestingly enough, when I was jumping onto the Hunger Games bandwagon in another country, my Dad was enjoying the movie back in the States. When I returned, we talked about our love for the franchise. I told him how great the book was, he told me how great the movie was. And as a result, he picked up the book, and I watched the movie (again). It was supposed to be a friendly, enjoyable way to spend some time together.

Then, we made a bet.

I bet him that he couldn’t finish the third installment of the Hunger Games before the movie came out. (That was almost a year ago). He had more than a few months to complete my challenge. If he did, I would take him to the movie and buy him dinner. I thought I had this one in the bag. He hadn’t read a book in years!

I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Not only did he finish Mockingjay. He finished the entire Divergent series and The Giver. The best part? He loved them.

He loves the entire dystopian genre. He is now so excited to see the Mockingjay movie. In fact, he’s about as excited as me. We just bought our tickets today.

So, in the end, even though I lost the bet, I actually won. I finally have someone to discuss the books with, to share my passion with. But more than that, I got my dad to do something truly amazing: read. I am an incredibly proud daughter.

And I am so glad that we can still share the joys of reading together as we once did.

This is actually him finishing Mockingjay and me...being proud.
This is actually him finishing Mockingjay and me…being proud.

Adults Should Read More Fairy Tales

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

For my job, I read a lot. And I usually come across some truly interesting pieces. I’ve read satires, plays, allegories, dictionaries, and yes, nonfiction.

But what seems to be the most accessible for me (due to good ol’ http://www.gutenberg.org and the copyright laws of this land that enforce the “public domain”) are children’s stories and fairy tales.

I simply find it so beautiful that there are so many stories around the world that have the same  moral or lesson as some of our most familiar tales but are couched in a uniquely different culture with recognizable and distinguishable characters. And you can find them all, spanning entire nations but all having a common thread. They truly unify humanity in a way that no other medium can.

I’ve actually had so much fun reading fairy tales and children’s stories that I had to ask myself: why do we leave them on our bookshelf after only a few years of enjoyment? Sure, there are many media empires that have been made from a product that was geared toward “children” but have since captured the imagination of all ages. And yes, many children’s stories have a decidedly darker and sharper edge that makes us scratch our heads, wondering, “Why did my parents let me read this as a child?”

And yet, there are some that I believe to be so universal and applicable that we should carry them with us throughout our lives. I’ve selected two for you tonight, to share with you and that will (hopefully) provide you with the right message at the right time.

The Sailor Man

Once upon a time, two children came to the house of a sailor man, who lived beside the salt sea; and they found the sailor man sitting in his doorway knotting ropes.
“How do you do?” asked the sailor man.
“We are very well, thank you,” said the children, who had learned manners, “and we hope you are the same. We heard that you had a boat, and we thought that perhaps you would take us out in her, and teach us how to sail, for that is what we most wish to know.”
“All in good time,” said the sailor man. “I am busy now, but by-and-by, when my work is done, I may perhaps take one of you if you are ready to learn. Meantime here are some ropes that need knotting; you might be doing that, since it has to be done.” And he showed them how the knots should be tied, and went away and left them.
When he was gone the first child ran to the window and looked out.
“There is the sea,” he said. “The waves come up on the beach, almost to the door of the house. They run up all white, like prancing horses, and then they go dragging back. Come and look!”

“I cannot,” said the second child. “I am tying a knot.”
“Oh!” cried the first child, “I see the boat. She is dancing like a lady at a ball; I never saw such a beauty. Come and look!”
“I cannot,” said the second child. “I am tying a knot.”
“I shall have a delightful sail in that boat,” said the first child. “I expect that the sailor man will take me, because I am the eldest and I know more about it. There was no need of my watching when he showed you the knots, because I knew how already.”
Just then the sailor man came in.
“Well,” he said, “my work is over. What have you been doing in the meantime?”
“I have been looking at the boat,” said the first child. “What a beauty she is! I shall have the best time in her that ever I had in my life.”
“I have been tying knots,” said the second child.
“Come, then,” said the sailor man, and he held out his hand to the second child. “I will take you out in the boat, and teach you to sail her.”
“But I am the eldest,” cried the first child, “and I know a great deal more than she does.”
“That may be,” said the sailor man; “but a person must learn to tie a knot before he can learn to sail a boat.”
“But I have learned to tie a knot,” cried the child. “I know all about it!”
“How can I tell that?” asked the sailor man.

I love this story because it seems to be directly aimed at every know-it-all (me) and millenial (also me) that I know. We all think that we know how to do certain things, and maybe we do. But take my advice, if you are starting a new job or beginning a new career path, do not scoff when they teach you how to do something you know how to do. They will never understand the true extent of your talent unless they see it. (An unfortunate trait of humans, yes, that we must see to believe, but it is true.)

Why the Evergreen Trees Keep Their Leaves in Winter

One day, a long, long time ago, it was very cold; winter was coming. And all the birds flew away to the warm south, to wait for the spring. But one little bird had a broken wing and could not fly. He did not know what to do. He looked all round, to see if there was any place where he could keep warm. And he saw the trees of the great forest.
“Perhaps the trees will keep me warm through the winter,” he said.
So he went to the edge of the forest, hopping and fluttering with his broken wing. The first tree he came to was a slim silver birch.
“Beautiful birch-tree,” he said, “will you let me live in your warm branches until the springtime comes?”
“Dear me!” said the birch-tree, “what a thing to ask! I have to take care of my own leaves through the winter; that is enough for me. Go away.”
The little bird hopped and fluttered with his broken wing until he came to the next tree. It was a great, big oak-tree.
“O big oak-tree,” said the little bird, “will you let me live in your warm branches until the springtime comes?”
“Dear me,” said the oak-tree, “what a thing to ask! If you stay in my branches all winter you will be eating my acorns. Go away.”
So the little bird hopped and fluttered with his broken wing till he came to the willow-tree by the edge of the brook.

“O beautiful willow-tree,” said the little bird, “will you let me live in your warm branches until the springtime comes?”
“No, indeed,” said the willow-tree; “I never speak to strangers. Go away.”
The poor little bird did not know where to go; but he hopped and fluttered along with his broken wing. Presently the spruce-tree saw him, and said, “Where are you going, little bird?”
“I do not know,” said the bird; “the trees will not let me live with them, and my wing is broken so that I cannot fly.”
“You may live on one of my branches,” said the spruce; “here is the warmest one of all.”
“But may I stay all winter?”
“Yes,” said the spruce; “I shall like to have you.”
The pine-tree stood beside the spruce, and when he saw the little bird hopping and fluttering with his broken wing, he said, “My branches are not very warm, but I can keep the wind off because I am big and strong.”
So the little bird fluttered up into the warm branch of the spruce, and the pine-tree kept the wind off his house; then the juniper-tree saw what was going on, and said that she would give the little bird his dinner all the winter, from her branches. Juniper berries are very good for little birds.
The little bird was very comfortable in his warm nest sheltered from the wind, with juniper berries to eat.
The trees at the edge of the forest remarked upon it to each other:
“I wouldn’t take care of a strange bird,” said the birch.
“I wouldn’t risk my acorns,” said the oak.
“I would not speak to strangers,” said the willow. And the three trees stood up very tall and proud.
That night the North Wind came to the woods to play. He puffed at the leaves with his icy breath, and every leaf he touched fell to the ground. He wanted to touch every leaf in the forest, for he loved to see the trees bare.
“May I touch every leaf?” he said to his father, the Frost King.
“No,” said the Frost King, “the trees which were kind to the bird with the broken wing may keep their leaves.”
So North Wind had to leave them alone, and the spruce, the pine, and the juniper-tree kept their leaves through all the winter. And they have done so ever since.

I absolutely love this story. If I had enough space on my body, and if I could find a tattoo artist with a steady hand I would get it permanently inked on my body, I love it that much. I love the fact that this poor little bird was sheltered by these awesome, generous trees. I love the line in which the other trees stand up tall and proud for turning away someone in need; I can almost feel their foolishness. In the end, it’s a simple lesson but such an important one. Be kind to those in need of help. You may not receive anything for your generosity, but do it anyway.

I’ve just given you a taste of a world you knew when you were young. Find these and more fanciful stories here: http://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/ 

Now, my lesson for you is to not ever grow up, but if you must, do us all a favor and try to remember these important lessons from your childhood.

Bandwagoning Books

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

If I had my way, I would spend about 90% of my time reading. And if I could spend even less time reading but still be able to experience books in all of their undeniable sublimity (perhaps due to some book osmosis that I prayed for when I had an anatomy final the next day in high school), then I would engage in such an activity every day. Seriously, someone much smarter than me should get on that…

But a serious question from a less than serious blogger: how does a bookworm keep up? E-readers have certainly helped people to stay on top of his or her book game, but the Internet has given voice to many more people and topics than ever before. So, how do we cut through the din? How do we account for a steady diet of the written word when there is a bigger feast than anyone can handle? Tell me, what makes the “paper cut”?

Reader to Theater

Not surprisingly, many readers are at the theater, as they look to film to inform their next read. Movies have become 2 hour advertisements for 200 page books that are adapted past the author’s ability to stomach their own creation. We watch the film/television version almost to judge whether we will want to spend precious time on the book itself. And when I say precious time, I actually mean a precious lifetime if Game of Thrones serves as an example.

There has been a complete role reversal; students used to watch the film instead of read the book to save time. Now, we go to the movies in the hopes of liking the movie enough to read the book. Do we not trust our own instincts? Do we not trust the authors to deliver a satisfying read? Do we really trust Hollywood to do our characters justice?

Perhaps, I do. I’ve watched four seasons of Game of Thrones with only about five chapters read in the first book and with little intention to keep reading when HBO breathes gold dust into Martin’s story and colors in between the literal lines of text. I did not read Harry Potter at all until I saw the first movie, some three years after the book’s publication, but I did eventually find out what I was missing. The Hunger Games only beeped onto my radar when the indomitable and loveable J Law crashed onto the Hollywood scene in all of her ungraceful glory as Katniss. In many ways, I’ve failed my fellow readers. And at the same time, I’ve seen stories reproduced on the big and small screen that far outpaced my own imagination.

The Fault In Our Books

And now, even with my literary to movie pedigree, I am absolutely fearful of picking up John Green’s teen love story, The Fault in our Stars. Even though I ran to catch up with my fair share of book bandwagons in the past, I can’t help but watch this one roll away and kick up some dust. From what I can tell from the trailers, (and maybe I’m just bitter about Shailene Woodley because the Divergent fan club loved her first) it is this generation’s A Walk to Remember but with a horrid twist that makes people absolutely lose it. So, excuse me if I don’t go running to the library to cry my eyes out. I did read The Book Thief, after all. (And if you haven’t read Zusak’s masterpiece, you need to. I mean, now. Go.)

However, I’m not one to judge a book by its cover, by its movie, or its fan club, for that matter. (If I made decisions on that last one, I wouldn’t be looking at you, the Bible). So, maybe when the crickets grow silent in the theater and TFIOS leaves the bestseller rack and slips back into the YA section, I’ll give it a read. But for now, it’s all I can do to dodge The Fault in our Stars and not find the faults in all of the reading material that has been barraging us lately. So, would I call watching the movie before reading the book blasphemy? No, I would call it smart. But these days, a movie ticket costs as much as a paperback, so be careful how you spend your money and your time.

Free Fun

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

Are you as broke as a child without an allowance? Would you be excited if a moth came out of your wallet as it does in cartoon shows because then, at least, you would have something in your wallet? Is the sound of you rubbing two coins together just the sound of you rubbing one finger against a coin?

Well, me too. I guess we have something in common.

Also, if the above description details your situation perfectly,  welcome to your 20’s; the most ironic age of your life. A time where it should be extremely fun to go out to bars or other age restricted entertainment (because you finally can) with your friends, but also a time when you find you can’t because well, bars cost money. And what with college loans, rent and other expenditures, you’re a bit in the red.

So, if you’re anything like me, and you are a bit bored of watching movies on your couch on a Friday night, here’s a quick reminder that you can fly to far away lands, fight robot overlords and feast on faerie food that is the size of thimbles.

Books are free, people. There is this archaic structure that the state employs to keep you well-stocked with adventure. It’s called the library.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love a good trip to the bookstore to buy a book that I will keep on my shelf or Kindle, forever. And really, the way that I forget to return my borrowed books to that establishment is kind of like I’m buying them already. (I once had to pay my local library $4.50 at a rate of 10 cents a day. You do the math.)

But think about it. We can barely rent anything without paying for it in the entertainment industry these days, especially now that all of the video stores have essentially folded. So, what other medium can you indulge in that will offer their wares for free, and won’t even make you pay for it if you fold the pages back or spill black coffee on it?

And finally, a book keeps giving. It captures someone’s vision originally. But then, when it gets into a reader’s hands, it becomes something completely different. It becomes a religious experience or fuel for the fire. Or, more recently, the subject of a blog post. And, all of this is free to you and me. If you have a library card. Which is free, as well, in most cases.

So what if you’re broke. Most of America is according to the economy. But what we are wealthy in is words and imagination. And so we are rich.

Also, this blog is and always will be free. So, if you do need some free fun on a Friday, I’ll be right there with you, even when I’m not.

By All Means, Do Drugs

Bailey GunnLeave a comment

Quoth the Raven, “Get a Life”
Edgar Allan Poe, a role model in probably no way but his writing, once offered: “I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.” And it seems that Poe encountered hours and hours of sanity, if his death is to serve as any evidence. So, what can we learn from both his tortured life and his equally tragic death? The same things that we can learn from any great existence. What Poe teaches us, and what anyone pursuing their dream might be able to tell you, is that if you accept “reality” in any form than you will never be happy. If you hear someone say any of the following:

  • be realistic, get straight
  • grow up, be an adult
  • stop dreaming

Then start running. Preferably now. And if that person is your mom, dad, sibling, boyfriend, girlfriend, closest friend, then I am even more sorry. But you’ll have to kill them.

Just kidding. But if you aren’t sure what I’m talking about, or if you’ve never graduated with an English degree, then here is a version of the “reality” I’m talking about and advising you to avoid:

You tell yourself that you have to take the job because it will pay the bills. You don’t go out for drinks on a Friday night because you didn’t plan for it. You decide that you want to go back to school because your current profession is a dead-end and a pipe-dream. You don’t believe in magic, angels, miracles, mermaids, unicorns, fairies, or even love. You tell yourself to “be realistic” or “sensible.” You refrain from laughing too loudly, and have perfected the quiet chortle behind your napkin. You scream into a pillow when you are angry. You don’t entertain the notion of “what ifs,” you simply accept the world as it is.

And I pity you.

Hobbits and Big Macs
Here’s how I disregard reality. When I was a young lass, my father read to my sister and I every night. After a time, fairy tales graduated into The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. A love for mysteries stuck with my sister because since she still seeks out crime and cop shows on the regular. But for me, it was simply an obsession with reading that outlasted my childhood. I would read to myself out loud or silently. I would read books, signs, shampoo bottles (I love long ingredients) post-it notes, newspapers, and occasionally, tea-leaves. You can argue that I was pre-wired to love words, as nature might, or that the nurturing hand of my father reading transformed me into the bookworm that I am today. Either way, reading satisfies something in me that can’t be satiated in any other way. An itch that can only be scratched by the repertoire of Neil Gaiman, lately.

But it doesn’t matter what I read. What is important now is that I have learned to escape reality, and that I do. I read books, particularly fantasy and science fiction, because I am not at all concerned with “reality.” I am actually most happy when I am contemplating the civilization on a fallen leaf or what seas do mermaids enjoy the most or even what Hobbits would order at McDonald’s.

So, when the time comes to be “serious” or “adult” or “realistic,” well. I’m not.

A Hit of Reality
Because, without reality, people are filled with dreams and what-ifs. When individuals aren’t constrained or inhibited by their own beliefs or limitations, they are an altogether different breed. Occasionally, we see small glimpses of this type of human being. They ride trains to their mundane jobs and daydream about if their car began to fly into the air. They wish fully for a black hole to swallow them up when they are embarrassed. They imagine having the ability to shoot laser beams from their eyes to fry their boss or their ex. The point is, their imaginations run wild at these times, and their emotions flare, and they are alive.

As a result, my message is to avoid reality at all costs, whatever that means for you. If it’s drugs, alcohol and dark vices that allow you to escape for awhile, then by all means. But know that there are other ways to let yourself rise above the fray without doing as much damage to yourself and to those around you. There is reading, writing, math, art, running, walking, believing, swimming, hiking, loving, breathing or any other matter of activity. But no, I will not condemn your feints to preserve your sanity in the end, whatever you choose. I will never tell you to grow up or be more logical. And the truth is, what we need is not less addicts or problems in the world.

It is less people telling us no, less people saying that we can’t achieve all that we can be, and less people demanding that we need to be “realistic.”

In the end, if you must engage with reality, take a dose and let the effects wear off forever.