Archive for the 'books' Category

on writing*

Thursday, August 14th, 2008

*with apologies to Stephen King. this is about your book anyway. 

I’ve never picked up a book by Stephen King – mainly because I was afraid to be afraid, to be haunted. But last night, I did pick up one of his books, and it couldn’t have come at a better time – it was his writing memoir, On Writing.

And so, Mr King says to me:

“You approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness or even despair – the sense that you can never completely put on the page what’s in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: You must not come lightly to the blank page.

“I’m not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly; I’m not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside your sense of humor (please God you have one). This isn’t a popularity contest, it’s not the moral Olympics, and it’s not church. But it’s writing, damn it, not washing the car, or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can’t or won’t, it’s time for you to close the book and do something else.”  (pages 92-93)

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the kite runner

Wednesday, May 28th, 2008

 the kite runner

“… I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

Khaled Hosseini, “The Kite Runner”, page 388

finished last night Hosseini’s awesomely heartbreaking book. finally, after what seemed to be a decade of trying to get past page 25. i had no choice but to stay in bed with my tattered lungs for most of monday and now, ta-da! i am now wondering why i hadn’t finished it much earlier.

so, what do i think of it? let’s see. it broke my heart, of course. maybe one of these days we could already watch the movie version and compare. reading hosseini’s description of afghanistan was the most heartbreaking of all, i am left wishing that most of that was fictional, that things are after all well over there. and oh, the children. the children. =(

i guess this year’s turning out to be better, book-wise. at least, my book queue is moving — the speed of glaciers, yes, but with global warming and all, i don’t know if that metaphor is still proper.

water

Friday, May 16th, 2008

pag gipit, ikutan. 

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it , all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”

-Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad.

or, as tori amos would say: a sorta fairytale

Wednesday, February 13th, 2008

dear love, 

here it is.

happily ever after

your very own happily ever after. (in pdf!)

xoxo,

me.

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start february right with winterson

Friday, February 1st, 2008

parang nananadya lang hahaha - someone just posted the LONGEST quote-post quoting practically everything heartripping in jeanette winterson’s written on the body.

naaalala ko to e (kung pwede ko lang sulatan yung libro, sinulatan ko malamang):

I don’t lack self-confidence but I’m not beautiful, that is a word reserved for very few people, people such as Louise herself.  I told her this.

‘You can’t see what I can see.’ She stroked my face.

‘You are a pool of clear water where the light plays.’

oha. *insert moment of kilig here*

OST for this moment: jose gonzalez - heartbeats

(cryptic l word s5e04 spoiler after)

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excerpts from wallets

Friday, January 11th, 2008

i. from jeanette winterson, oranges are not the only fruit: (and one other thing)

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and even more winterson quotage

Sunday, January 7th, 2007

Articulacy of fingers, the language of the deaf and dumb, signing on the body body longing. Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your Morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut. -excerpt from “written on the body” available here.

if it is possible at all for my heart to leap out of my chest upon finding a jeanette winterson site with extensive excerpts of her novels and (i think) full versions of her short stories — if that is possible at all — watch where you step, i just might fill this room with blood. ♥

yearender: 2006 in sights and sounds

Sunday, December 31st, 2006

2006 in movies
of course, we all know that the movies that changed my life this year were brokeback mountain (feb), gia (march) and imagine me & you (august). but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any other movies worth mentioning.

i also loved: rent (the OST is loooove), the devil wears prada (meryl streep is loooove) and
happy feet (penguins are looooooooooooooove!)

other movies i bothered with: mission impossible 3, pirates of the carribean 2 and superman.

2006 in screen-related addictions
my dvd life was mostly lorded over by episodes of: the l word (april) and grey’s anatomy (october)

on tv, i remember watching: rockstar:supernova and philippine idol. captain barbell! :)

(and even more randomicity. is that even a word?)

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‘remember this body?’

Tuesday, December 12th, 2006

“I kept on looking at her and wondering how we ever had a relationship; yet when she first left me, I thought I had blood poisoning. I couldn’t forget her. Now she seemed to have forgotten everything. It made me want to shake her, to pull off all my clothes in the middle of the street and yell, ‘Remember this body?’

Time is a deadener; people forget, get bored, grow old, go away. She said that not much had happened between us anyway, historically speaking. But history is a string full of knots. The best you could do is admire it, and maybe knot it up a bit more…

She said those sorts of feelings were dead, the feelings she once had for me. There is a certain seductiveness about dead things. You can ill treat, alter and recolour what’s dead. It won’t complain.”

-jeanette winterson, “oranges are not the only fruit”