Allegiant by Veronica Roth: Thoughts

Okay, so I finally read it. I've been straying away from reading book series since it was hard to keep up and I was discovering stand-alones

Some background: I discovered Divergent in the summer of 2012 by just picking it up at Target. I had no idea what to expect, but I really enjoyed it. The fear landscape concept was right up my alley; I generally liked the ideas better than The Hunger Games; and you got to know the supporting characters in the competition more than the latter because they didn't all have to die. The only issue I had was the romance--not so much that it happened, it's better than others, after all--but the heavy description of making out. (This is, of course, a personal taste, and it doesn't happen as much in the sequels or the movie.) I picked up Insurgent soon after that and maybe began reading it in September/October of that year, but due to increased schoolwork and books I was reading for school, I progressed very slowly and naturally got frustrated because it seemed to never end. I vaguely remember good parts, though. But in general, by response upon finishing was "good, I can get on reading more books now" rather than "oh no, when does the next one come out?" With that mindset, I didn't expect too much from Allegiant, so I was more likely to enjoy it.

Also, so I don't get an angry comment, THERE ARE SPOILERS

Now, for my quick thoughts:

I honestly forgot all about how Insurgent ended when I began to read Allegiant. I remembered the factionless and Evelyn, but all I remembered of the video was the urge to leave the city because it was time. I didn't realize there were hints about the city being an experiment, so I found the infodumps at the beginning to be interesting because I didn't expect it. The gene ideas were almost as interesting as the fear simulations.

Divergent was a book packed with twists and thrills, and then Insurgent, from my point of view at least, seemed to be long and more meandering, but still plenty of exploration and twists. This book is about the same size, but it is a lot less packed. Not a lot actually seems to happen, and it mostly takes place in one setting. In fact, most of it is probably exposition.

So, of course I have to talk about the alternating point of views. I feel like the major problem was the publisher's, not Roth's--the names are only given at the beginning of each chapter and sometimes they can be missed; it would have been much better if the name was on the page somewhere, like some books have author/title headings. It is a bit difficult to just tell who is telling the story just by reading a little bit, but as someone who plans to write from multiple points of view, that isn't always a criticism; the writing style should not vary unless one of the characters is drastically different. Still, Tris and Tobias do seem remarkably similar. The good thing about the dual  POV was that it allowed readers to sympathize with both characters in their conflicts and Tobias could go off on his own, which was how this plot was structured. Also, that ending.

The series is also written in present tense, which takes a bit to get used to and I personally think it can sound less sophisticated. There were also some comments by the narrators inserted into pages that were mostly dialogue that seemed to just be there to break up the dialogue and were also not as insightful as they should have been. I unfortunately don't have an example because I didn't keep track of that while reading, but there were quite a few times I wondered, "Why is that sentence there?"

Allegiant carries on with the relationship angst introduced in Insurgent. I'm not a big fan of relationship angst, but at least it got resolved in this one. I'm all for couples having problems, but I feel like their issues have always been dragged out and petulant rather than something to really worry about. Real life is often like that though, so I don't know whether to complain. Tris's jealousy is definitely a realistic response in the ugly tradition of things we don't like to admit, but it could be written as more relatable and less reactionary and annoying. Because of that I was more inclined to go along with Tobias in the rebellion plan, which of course backfired, leading Tris to get angry again about how she was right. Where's the unconditional love and understanding?

So, the ending. I tend to feel satisfied with endings for the actual ending part. I'm kind of obsessed with the general idea. Also, I overheard from a friend what happened at the end here, so it wasn't too much of a shock (sorry). With that said, I think it was a logical conclusion. Of course Tris would sacrifice herself, and I don't think I have to reiterate why to those of you who have read the book (though I feel like Caleb could have explained it better to Four). She's been brave and selfless from the beginning. And it's all a relief coming off of her jealousy.

I may have actually enjoyed Tobias grappling with the memory erasure serum more, though. Because Christina is right: remembering who you are and how you came to be that way is something you should never risk throwing away, however painful remembering is.

I don't have a problem with Tris dying. Tris died because she's a better character than Four, because she did something he wouldn't have thought to do. We'll never know that, of course, but I got the impression from Four that he always wanted to preserve both of their lives. And Tris found a better way out, and she might have survived too if it weren't for David's gunshots. Not only would Tris have suffered if Caleb walked in there--in a way Four may not have understood--but I doubt he would have been able to still activate the box while under attack and wounds like she had. It's not just a simple bait and switch. She's the key. And she wanted to be. And because of that, Tobias will be an even better person.

That's not cruel at all.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane: Commentary and Review

I am not accustomed to doing book reviews, and unless I have something really serious to say about an issue, I think it's more fun to read a discussion of themes and greater connections rather than a review, so I am going to attempt to do that. There will be minor spoilers. You may not have the same definition of "minor" that I do, so proceed with caution. (If you want to know what I think quality-wise, it's this: read it. I loved it.)

[I should also note that this has been saved as a draft for a while, and since then I've read more Sandman and American Gods.]

Before this, the only Neil Gaiman book I had read was The Graveyard Book several years ago, though I also had read the first few issues of Sandman at this point and see his Doctor Who episodes. I was interested in beginning to delve more into his work with this book because it appeared to be a nice childhood tale of nostalgia...and boy, how was I wrong. It morphed into something all the more terrifying and thrilling.

The plot began to sound mystic, and suddenly it was full-blown, gloriously unexplained fantasy. Perhaps only Gaiman can get away with it, but I envy how he leaves so much vague and unexplained, really allowing it to be magical and imaginative. It's a balance I've struggled with my own writing, as I feel like I should explain how everything works with the Internet's tendency to scrutinize everything, but this ends up being fruitless for fantasy.

Anyway, perhaps the most memorable and disturbing part in the book for me was when the protagonist notices there is a hole in his foot, decides it's not worth his parents' attention, and grabs tweezers and pulls out a worm and washes it down the bathtub drain. I'm not sure what bothered me more: the fact that there was a worm in his foot, or that he was completely unphased by it. I know my brother would have been screaming when he was seven.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane is full of childhood but timeless horror, and in addition to the genre I find the target age range interesting. Despite being through the eyes of a seven-year-old, Gaiman stated he decided to not market it toward younger readers because there is not enough hope, and I suppose I would have to agree, though there is hardly anything adult, never mind on the scale of American Gods. Ultimately, though, this decision resulted in the novel being more sophisticated in writing style (Coraline seemed to me to be very obviously written for kids) and deal with some dark themes, and there are many of those. The first chapter sees his cat being run over; the second, a man committing suicide; and the third, nearly choking to death. Rather than a child's story, it's a child in the adult world.

Something else that intrigued me was that the narrator is never given a name. But it's not just him, it's all the human characters: there's just "my sister," "the opal miner," etc. It's the otherworldly characters that have names, and appropriately unique and mythological ones at that. This seems to be a theme in Gaiman's work (just look at Shadow!): names are nebulous things, especially for ordinary people, but can be used to great effect in displaying the scope and size of fantastical characters.

The ending is a twist and a little bit ambiguous. It may be tragic, but it's the kind I prefer: [SPOILERS] memory issues. Not a definitive wipe, but something quieter, and it's exactly the kind of thing I love.

Blending childhood adventure with horror, mystery, and darkness, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is a treat, clocking in at just under 200 pages...but one that I devoured slowly, wishing to stay immersed in its grand scope for longer.

On the Universal and Adult Appeal of The Fault in Our Stars

I've got a laundry list of media I like, but the ones that stand out are the ones that mean something personal to me. In my last post I discussed why The Great Gatsby resonated with me, and now I'm heading to the present to the newest craze: John Green's teen hit The Fault in Our Stars. (By the way, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.)

I'm not that big of a romance, teen fiction, or even John Green. (By that I mean I definitely appreciate what he does for the educational and writing community, and while this is the only book of his I've really loved, I just find it off-putting that someone who is always talking about others' writing and how you should think of people as people has gained a cult following believing he can do no wrong and not venturing to read many other books.) But I loved this book, and it's no surprise to me why this has reached readers beyond its target audience (aka me, a teenage girl), and specifically adults. I'm not going to get into technicality, like that this book is just really good and the teen talk is genuinely funny rather than a bit uncomfortable (part of the reason why I'm not into his other books is that I find "teen talk" a bit off-putting, especially where boys are the ones talking, and probably about girls). No, I want to talk about the universal themes present in the novel that I myself could relate too, but that most certainly are not teen-specific.

The fundamental key to this is that Hazel and Gus are, functionally, adults. On Green's website
 there is the following FAQ:

Q. Are Hazel and Augustus in love like adults can be? How do you view their relationship?
A. I find it really offensive when people say that the emotional experiences of teenagers are less real or less important than those of adults.
I am an adult, and I used to be a teenager, and so I can tell you with some authority that my feelings then were as real as my feelings are now.

Which, aside from generating three cheers for me (I'm of the belief that it's possible if based on mutual feelings and both persons are mature and can communicate), adds to the point. Green's other books tend to focus on teenagers being awkward and learning lessons for the first time, and in that respect The Fault in Our Stars is almost in another genre entirely. It's more universal, and that probably is the reason I enjoyed it more than Looking for Alaska and Paper Towns. I like what those books said about viewing other people and never getting the full story of an event, but I had already learned all of that (so the reveal of Margo and Alaska's troubles has much less of an impact on me as I knew it was coming), and moreover I could not quite relate to the stories in a way that personally resonated with me.

But back to Hazel and Gus being adults. They have much more in common with adults than kids, and in a natural way, rather than teen experimentation. Aside from the often-noted use of heightened speech, both teens are independent (can take care of themselves, drive, and their parents do not pry into their personal affairs). Hazel takes college courses. They watch R-rated movies. In Amsterdam they share champagne and have sex. There's also a telling scene in which they sell Hazel's old broken childhood swing set: a sign of transitioning into adulthood.

The Fault in Our Stars is not a cautionary first-time tale of teenage relationships, nor is it about experimentation, or even about a perfect fairy-tale love. Sure, it's rather poetic and was intended to be an inversion of a romantic epic, but it may be one of the most realistic love stories I've ever read. I mean the meet-cute at the beginning and instant fascination with each others' looks I personally do not find realistic, based on my own experiences, but such is a necessity of a love story that has to get its feet off the ground and take place over a relatively short span--and if anything, that works toward my point No, I mean that Hazel and Gus essentially represent an abbreviated and accelerated relationship: from meeting to death.

They may not go through all the typical stages of a couple's life (marriage, kids, etc), but they still fundamentally represent the whole experience. And there is one particular line I want to talk about, in which Hazel describes the reaction of her parents when they know that Gus has died:

"My parents came in then, looking expectant, and I just nodded and they fell into each other, feeling, I'm sure, the harmonic terror that would in time come for them directly."

There you have it: adults relating to the tale of the two teenagers. Because they know they are going to die, sometime, and one of them will probably go first. It could strike at any moment, sooner than expected--but they always knew that. Every committed couple does, but they've agreed to take that risk. Just as Hazel and Gus did, with Hazel wanting to pull away to hurt as few people as possible when she died (the grenade analogy), and Gus choosing to stay with her because he is willing to take that risk. (And staying by choice is another hallmark of a healthy relationship.)

Reading about Gus's deterioration is so hard, particularly if you are in a relationship, because with those things you are just absolutely powerless. You can't do anything to stop it. If the illness is contagious you can't even hold your partner. You just have to accept it. And that is something everyone in a committed relationship will have to confront eventually, and it's a theme that I believe adults can especially relate to because they are more aware of that reality in their own lives. (Not to say that kids can't, because they are also certainly aware that they could have to deal with the death of their grandparents and/or parents sooner than they would want.)

I also want to make clear that I don't believe that the cancer in The Fault in Our Stars is irrelevant to its overall meaning. The way it deals with cancer is admirable, and Gus's line about how people are always immortalized for dying for things rather than from things is one of my favorite points in the book. Rather, I believe my points here have only enhanced the meaning of the book, which is that someone with a short, doomed life can still live it to the fullest. And because of that, it reminds us of the fundamentals and inevitability of life, and leaves the rest for us to think about.

Why The Great Gatsby is great, to me

The Great Gatsby may be the greatest American novel for its depiction of the American dream, and it's beloved by many for all sorts of other reasons, and famously by those who can overlook how most of the characters are "unlikeable". I read the novel like everyone else in high school (specifically, freshman year) and like all the novels I read that year, I connected with it. But I'm not sure it's in the same way most other people do. See, I like The Great Gatsby because Gatsby is a hopeless failure.

In my class, there was as discussion of whether Gatsby was a good person at all--in the sense that he wanted Daisy to go outside of her marriage--and I didn't have the heart to argue with them. Because I sort of related to Gatsby, and I knew sadly what Nick meant when he said, "You can't repeat the past."

Oh, I didn't have a crazy and immoral plan, really. I just wanted to have a platonic friend (and oh I was aware how ambiguous and fragile that sounded) to trust based on incorrect assumptions of how compatible we seemed (more to others than to ourselves, really), and I was also going through a very stressful part of my life. This isn't the place to talk about it, really. But the past--and childhood innocence--was very key to me, something I wanted to return to, and he was the ultimate symbol of that. I didn't know him as a person, really, just various symbols for stages of my life.

I wanted to return to that past, but at the time of reading it I did begin to feel that it just wasn't possible, that I was only clinging to it in vain hope. And The Great Gatsby knows this too. His vision collapses, and it's delightfully cynical to me. I'm not the one to believe that there is a big plan to the universe, and I do believe we have some agency, but there is a point at which things are way too far past fixing, when it's hopeless. It's not often a message you see either, with the improbably successful "get the girl" (or boy) trope in stories.

Maybe Gatsby is selfish, and Daisy and Tom are definitely, as Nick remarks, careless people. But there's a reason Nick says at the beginning that Gatsby is the only person he finds worth redemption. He had not known Daisy for years; he was only acquainted with the symbol of her in his mind, and he fails to realize it. He was disillusioned. He was wrong, of course, and we all are at some point in our lives. But unlike the rest of us, Gatsby never got the chance to learn from it.

But we can learn from it. We have the book to read.

For All Ages

Recently, I read Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane and Coraline. My preference was to the former, but that's not what I'm here to talk about. I want to talk about something that consistently knocks around in my mind: age genres.

At the beginning of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, there is the usual page of "also by this author," but this one is different. It's no secret that Gaiman has written everywhere from picture books to adult bestsellers (not to mention TV scripts, comic books, and other miscellany not included on the list), but the list is split into two sections only: "For Adults" and "For All Ages." For All Ages!!!

As someone whose own major work is very much on the borderline between children's/middle grade and young adult/teen, this lack of distinction is refreshing. Genre is often fluid, but it's hard to find marketing that realizes this.

After reading both books, it's very apparent that Coraline is written in a children's style while Ocean is more adult in prose, although not in content, and for the most part features a seven-year-old protagonist. Ocean is of course not on that list, and while I did find it shelved in the adult section (although there was an edition of The Graveyard Book on the same shelf), it truly defies age.

We need more of this. Stop worrying if you're too young or too old, or if your readers are too young to understand--just write and read.

Editing and Revision Tips

This is from my tumblr

Well I have been sidetracked and haven't done anything much original lately, so I feel like I should. I'm in the midst of revising my first novel and have run into some interesting things, though I want to withhold any plot details for the sake of my originality. Here are some tips I have acquired based on this experience:

1. Editing is more than just grammar, punctuation, and better prose. It can involve major rewriting. Don't let your family and friends tell you it was fine the way it was. It's up to you to make it the best and to feel proud of it.
2. Some things to consider are emotional and character arcs, worldbuilding, and any common criticism you can find. Do the reactions make sense? Should a scene be added so characters can explore and internal or emotional conflict? What questions might readers ask of the world and how things work in the setting, and do these things have to be explained? (This is something I'm struggling with, in that I have a unique relationship between my world and our own, and feel like I often explain so much it loses intrigue.) Are your characters fleshed out and not accidentally offensive? Do you mistakenly fall into promoting problematic ideas that you never intended? (I am not suggesting to make it tame to reach more readers, but rather making sure a disturbing subtext you do not agree with does not sneak in. Leave in your own messages.)
3. If it's part of a series, take a break and write and plan the sequels. This can help A LOT with foreshadowing and consistency. I've got half of my sequel written and while I am a bit stuck in finishing it for now, I've got the important things planned out for it and the third book. It has helped me tie the once stand-alone plot of my first into the rest of the trilogy, and it makes more sense as a result. The sequel also inspired me to flesh out my characters and setting more, because I found myself liking the sequel more!
4. Life experience. I keep a diary and journals and whatnot, but everyday experiences and musings about life are great things to add to writing. Make it personal and important.

Tumblr

I now have a tumblr at www.glimmerwriter.tumblr.com.

That will not replace this blog. It is mostly for smaller things and reblogging good writing resources or other stuff I'm interested in. Blogger is much, much more useful for long posts. It is, however, not very easy to interact with people (of course, no one really wants to interact with me yet anyway). I think if I am able to meet a few people though, it could help with marketing in the future.

It's hard to post on here because it uses a different Google account than the one I am usually on. However, I still have that old post I started about gender and marketing and double standards, but I got sidetracked several times in that post, and I might come up with something briefer and more narrow that related directly to me later. (That will probably also include my issues with deciding where I fall on the children's/young adult divide).