“I forgot how much I love this world man. I feel like I didn’t appreciate this book well enough the first time and now it’s just crushing my heart with hope and joy”
“Isn’t that the beauty of books though? Just rams your soul with hope and emotions that you (I) usuallyrun from”
That’s a conversation that is fairly normal among me and my reader friends. We live in a whirlpool of books, throwing our favorites at each other to eventually create a petri dish of the same universes, characters, relationships, and words. We crave a new world, new pain, new hope, new love. Hunger for masterfully woven words fills our bones. It’s an unquenchable thirst that will occasionally feel satisfied. A best friend will throw me a story that ripped them apart and I’ll devour it until I’m stuffed and hungover from the intoxicating tale. Continue reading →
If you’ve read and enjoyed ANY of my blogs, then I think you’ll love this book. Especially if you’re favorite posts are the more personal/vulnerable/emotional ones.
A quick history of Talitha Cumi…
In early 2019, I did a 3 month school with YWAM Orlando where we studied the Bible in-depth. During that time, I wrote a series of essays (like blog posts) that I felt the Lord was telling me NOT to post.
Because of this, I ended up writing about some really personal and vulnerable things that I would never have shared on my blog. Continue reading →
Through many years of school, researching, editing, and writing, I’ve learned a lot about the world of writing. Here are 15 of the most common mistakes I see writers make. (Also 15 examples of a book or author I think exemplifies the correct way to do these.)
1. Telling, Not Showing.
People read because they want to fall into a new world, be distracted by their own, experience something they haven’t, or learn something new. If they wanted a straight forward list of facts, they would go to Wikipedia. Whether you’re writing nonfiction or fiction, you need to pull the readers into the story. They should be completely enveloped by your world. Continue reading →
I couldn’t decide on the rating for this book but I think it earned these 4 stars. There is no doubt that Gillian Flynn is a fantastic writer and very creative. I did have a few issues with the book, but on the whole it really was a great read.
Camille Preaker is a journalist based in Chicago and from a small town in Missouri. She’s battling demons that have plagued her for her entire life and they just get stronger when she’s sent back to her hometown to cover the two mysterious murders of two young girls in Wind Gap. Both girls were strangled and had their teeth pulled out and Camille finds herself relating to the victims. She must solve the puzzle for her story while also surviving the nightmare of her childhood home with her overly neurotic mother and beautiful, but somewhat evil, young sister. Continue reading →
The air is stale, Sam wrote in her notebook. She looked up, took another step, and shook her head. She touched the tip of her pen to the page again and crossed out the sentence.
Fear is more alive in the air than the actual people breathing it. I can’t tell if it is a fear of where they live, of the prison itself, or of what exists outside of the building. Maybe it’s fear of how they will continue life after they leave the stone walls of their own guilt or maybe it’s the fear that they’ll never escape it.
This is one of those Young Adult books that I think all kids – especially girls – should read. It features a classic heroine who acts as the savior in the majority of the novel while also being in touch with her femininity. For instance, her love of the loom and sewing is extremely important and even saves lives throughout the novel. Anyone who likes young adult novels, fairytales, or strong heroines should read East.
East is a retelling of the fairytale “East of the sun and west of the moon” and also has some Beauty and the Beast similarities. I personally believe the retelling is done really well and Edith Pattou created a beautiful, thoughtful, and entertaining story. Continue reading →
I’m not a very emotional person, but Sarah Manguso picked up my emotions like a plastic sack of eggs and threw them against a brick wall. Reading this wonderful memoir, “Two Kinds of Decay,” (5 stars, btw) was a decision that would result in me crying (not literally, but I would have if I had an ounce of emotions) because it reminded me why I love reading so damn much.
While keeping her distance from an obviously horrendous and traumatic experience, Manguso tells an honest, quick paced, truthful, and emotional story of her life and the disease that interrupted it. At a young age, Manguso was hospitalized with chronic idiopathic demyelinating polyradiculoneuropathy (CIDP), a persistent form of Guillain-Barré syndrome: an autoimmune disease that attacks the nervous system, causing spreading numbness and paralysis. If the disease wasn’t treated regularly with her blood being cycled, removing the bad blood (or plasma) with new, fresh, and clean blood, than it would have spread to her lungs and suffocated her. Instead, she was left with this half hearted, poor excuse for a ‘treatment,’ which really just left her in the hospital, often paralyzed, and unable to live a normal life.
For some reason, it’s often seen as selfish or arrogant to be proud of yourself. If you say “I’m proud of this accomplishment” you run the risk of other’s thinking you’re conceited.
There is merit in modesty humility, though. It’s probably not a good idea to wear a shirt that says “I’m the best” everyday or force your friends to throw you a party every time you make an A or B on a test, but if an accomplishment is a large, unusual, and meaningful one, then it’s 100% okay to be proud of yourself. If you just made an A on your MCAT, then you should have a party. Yeah, modesty is a virtue but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to voice your own excitement at your achievements. Continue reading →
Most vividly, I remember the rain. My hair had been stuck to my forehead and I was shivering from the cold. Running through the trees had winded me and I was struggling to see through the fog and rain. The house was large, hiding in plain sight.
I was scared, lost, and alone. I was also only six years old.
Now, twenty years later, the memories have become distant at best and fictional at worst. Once, I made the mistake of confiding in my girlfriend at the time, telling her all I remember about that night twenty years ago. I told her how the memory of the night feels physical to me, but the evidence of it was never found. Continue reading →