I have decided to stop being a lazy bum and start reading stories published the old-fashioned way, thus ensuring that whatever I read is of decent quality. Of course, not all published books are good, some are downright terrible.

I think my new favourite story from A sense of Belonging anthology is 'Flowers for Algernon'. Certainly, writing from the perspective of an intellectually inferior man is difficult, because it creates very little room for self-expression and description. Being a descriptive writer, I have never considered writing from this perspective before. I prefer to allude to things and hint at them, instead of writing straight on and giving the facts.

To be honest, I never quite liked 'dumb' people -- I am a cynical bitch, and don't take too kindly towards glorified, simplistic delineations of the fucked up world around us. It is extremely frustrating to talk to them, much less read their stuff.

But the author managed to pull it off. I find that the interaction between Charlie and the other characters, as well as his diary, is very introspective and allows for a lot of emotional detail and characterisation to allow the reader to sympathise with Charlie. Structurally speaking, the sentences themselves are very simple, even if the content is difficult, abstruse, almost. I had to slow down and re-read some sentences a few times to get it (which is why I take virtually all of forever to finish reading my thin, paperback classics. All the thee's and thy's and archaic vocabulary and imagery makes my head spin).

Diary entries are not new or 'fresh' ideas to tell the story, but I felt that the author really made the most use out of that particular medium and twisted it to form something fresh and original. I know, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole 'make something old and boring new and exciting' concept. The fact that I take eons to think and then arduously type out, letter by letter that infamous merlion poem just shows that my creativity meter is reaching the pits of hell right now. It can't go any lower, I think. Even if Dante's nine levels of Hell exists (but I think it's more of a circular hell).

Why am I discussing hells and venues of eternal damnation all of a sudden?
I have no idea.

I need to get writing, pronto. It's not healthy to keep poetry floating around in your head late at night when you are trying to sleep. I get all these random sentences suddenly popping up in my head, and they are good pieces of poetry, but if I forget to write them down they just dissipate into morning dust.

A pity.

Anyway, it's really amazing how much we have progressed since our first words as an infant, right? Right now we can compose letters and use punctuation and grammar naturally when it took us many painful hours sitting on the hard plastic chairs until our bums were sore in primary school. I think I have forgotten most of the grammatical terms -- what the heck is a 'predicate'?

Maybe I should get one of those primary school assessment books for grammar and start doing them. The ones with cartoon characters and speech bubbles, and awkward, bulbous noses. I think the publisher is Casco or something like that. It couldn't be Cisco -- that's a security company with ugly navy blue uniforms, I think.

It's be such a long time since I have ranted, because nowadays I don't get pissed off that much. Except yesterday, when I finally capitulated to Inner Bimbo Self (Oh shut up you, stop giggling you insane, inane animal!) and purchased a copy of Seventeen. What can I say? Mindless frivolity is veeeeerry relaxing.

It wasn't until I've gotten home and got a good look at the cover page did I recognise the mousy features and the open-mouthed smile of our favourite Twilight star. Then I noticed, across the top, emblazoned in neon blue, something about New Moon posters and bookmarks.

Shit. Just my luck.

The magazine was chock-full of advertorials that bored my ass off and a lovely, 4-page interview with Kristen Stewart and Prat. Oh, did I mistype that? It was completely intentional, I assure you. I suppose the head office of Seventeen is indeed going to have a very merry Christmas with their stockings full of cash, considering how many companies are paying them to insert page after page after page of laborious adverts.

Wonderful. A magazine with all the stars and products I hate. Kristen Stewart, Prats and Felicia Chin all in one day. No wonder I ate very little last night -- just one serving of turkey. Against my wishes, curiosity trapped the bloody feline that is my curious mind and I found myself reading the interview. At least it provided fodder for some internal, shrewish laughter.

When asked what attracted he to the script and Bella, Kristen answered that Bella was 'honest' and 'self-assured'. Psh. I think Prats also mentioned something along the lines of Edward being the guy 'everybody loves' and having an attractive personality.

Psh. I wonder what their addresses are? Those poor, deprived dears need a real book!

1) Twilight characters are two-dimensional, and their personality, or lack thereof, is perfectly evident through humdrum dialogue and long, draggy introductions.
2) The plot? What plot? Oh, you mean the whole I-see-the-emo-guy-OMIGOSH-he's-so-hot-I-want-to-jump-him and MMMM-she-smells-delish-I-am-in-love-with-her thing, and the little, hurriedly-inserted pathetic semblance of a plot with our idiotic protagonist skipping to James (who just died, and the climax was just nada cos she fainted?)
3)This goes against every single thing I was taught in CAP about prose (though it might be a little bit of a stretch to call Twilight prose
4)New Moon wasn't any better, because Bella spent 300+ pages moaning and angsting and god that was a waste of my cash though very good for my ego
5) The characters regressed, and their personality became invisibility cloaks.
6) Bella is not self-assured. She is flighty, insecure (needing Edward to do this and do that, needing Edward's validation of what she wants to do in her life), arrogant (the whole bit on calling her father Charlie and the snotty attitude she takes towards her human friends, abandoning them only to come crawling back when Eddikins left her, and looking down at the education system), aimless, clingy, whiny, deceitful, immature...the list can go on and on.
7) The characters aren't portrayed as having a flaw. They are, in Stephenie's world, perfect characters. They don't grow up at the end of the story, or learn anything, or progress physically or mentally through the whole experience. Through interactions with other characters and the plot, a character is supposed to learn something, come out wiser, different, changed. Something is supposed to propel these characters and enable them to change. Throughout the novel, the characters don't develop at all. It's like reading a fangirl's wet dream, where the characters are there to express the hormonal teenager's sexual fantasies.
8) I don't love Edward. Enough said.
9) Okay, maybe the series is supposed to have some moral value (like not having sex before marriage, etc.) But it's expressed in the wrong way or not adequately enough. While I admire and understand Stephenie's belief in her stories and her determination to find a publisher and get published despite numerous rejections, I still feel that the series leaves something to be desired.
10) Last note: I think once I had a nightmare about going into the future and examining the literature of the past. To my horror I saw Twilight sitting in one of the piles of the post-modernism era lit. I think I screamed the place down and tried to burn the book, I don't remember but I do remember waking up crying. My pillow was wet, and I hope it was from the tears and not drool.

Oh yes I have checked my tagboard (lying dormant for centuries, gathering faerie dust) and saw one very angry anon who had the misfortune of being named 'wtf?'. I had the feeling that maybe momm and daddy dearest didn't really expect his/her birth into the world and tried to get rid of it, but it's not nice to attack someone personally *clears throat pointedly* so I shall stop making conjectures on the birth circumstances and upbringing of said person.

Dear wtf?,

No, contrary to what you believe, I am most certainly not six. However, if I happen to be six, I surmise that I must have superior intelligence compared to the average six-year-old's intelligence worldwide, which may or may not include yours. I think this is perfectly evident through the syntax and diction of my entries, because a six-year-old may just be grasping the concept of grammar and proper punctuation. Besides, I highly doubt a six-year old could make angry elucidation on channel 8 dramas and how they portray women in society.

I do take perverse and childish pleasure in coding the right click and watching people try to click through them one by one. Yes it is jejune, but utterly delightful, especially when people with nothing better to do tag angrily on my tagboard. Thank you for your comment though, it made me all the more determined NOT to remove the right click code.

Besides, what were you trying to do with the right click, may I ask?

If it hinders your viewing pleasure, I deeply apologise, but I believe you know the keyboard shortcuts? No? Well, too bad.

Thank you for your comment and have a very pleasant day. I hope it snows over there whereever you are. Enjoy it, because global warming will soon take it away, as surely as that ambrosial scowl will corrugate itself permenantly on your face if you keep up the grouchiness.

With utmost sincerity and affability,

the authoress.