Books Read in January

I told you I was back!

So, my goal for the year--for every year, really--is to read 100 books. This used to be easily achievable, but with my mental illnesses come a shocking loss of motivation to do the things I wanted (but that's a whole other post). Yet I still persevere. I figure if I blog about the books I've read each month, I'll be more inclined to read faster, better, and with more gusto than usual.

"A book is made of paper, but a story is a tree."
pg 448

This month I read

1. The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern
2. Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy, #2) by Ilona Andrews
3. The Last Wish (The Witcher, #0.5) by Andrzej Sapkowski
4. Loki: Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

I'll be posting reviews/dissections of The Last Wish and Loki because those are the two books that left me with a lot of thoughts.

The Starless Sea, though... That captured my heart. It was a book for book lovers. This is an unofficial review, more of an excited squeak and demand that you go out and read it.

Well, that's it for today, but stay tuned for reviews and news about upcoming projects. Here, have a puppy Layla to see you off.

My Relationship with Books

To be a writer, first you must be a reader. (I think someone important said that.)

My first interaction with books was when my mother would build me little forts out of books, and I'd choose one to pore through. I don't have any memory of this, but mum insists it was really cute.

My first memory of books was reading in the dead of night. When I was a child, I was scared of the dark (still am, come to think of it), so the light in the hallway outside my door was lit until one of my parents woke up or so. Each night, I'd wait for my parents to fall asleep, and creep out into the hallway and sit right down on the floor with one of the numerous books I'd borrowed from the library.
That was how I'd read most of the Harry Potter books, and the Lord of the Rings, as well as playing Pokémon Silver. When I heard the creak of my parent's bed, or the sigh of them being roused from sleep, I would hustle back to bed and pretend I'd been asleep. If I was lucky, it would be a false alarm, and I could go back to reading until it was time for school.
To this day, I have reading-induced insomnia.

When I was in highschool, reading was never really cool, so I stopped it for the sake of joining in with my friends. What they didn't know was that I was devouring books like Les Miserables and attempting at War and Peace. I was the first one in my group--and probably the school--to read Twilight, and thought it meh before moving on to real vampire books like Anne Rice's series.
I'd also spend my nights reading fanfiction, or original fiction online, on fictionpress and its sister site. I must have read hundreds of words worth of books in those years.

It was only when I had graduated from highschool, when I'd removed myself from several toxic relationships, that I'd enveloped myself in the world of books.
I firmly believe that it was my lack of books during my teenage years that made me so heavily suicidal. Now years later, I have my books and I feel so much better.

Books are magic. Everyone says that, and that's because it's true. Twilight was so popular because girls could leave their boring/over-complicated/abusive/etc'd lives for a little while. And it's because I can leave myself for so many hours at a time that I've been able to cope with depression.

And with the devouring of books came the inevitable writing of books. I'd run out of books I'd wanted to read. I'd read everything on fictionpress; so I wrote something I'd want to read.
That part still remains. Right now I'm in the mood for selkie/mermaid hybrids and the end of the world and human sacrifices, and that's exactly what I'm writing.
Write the book you want to read (I'm sure someone definitely said that.)

Mental health and writing.

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM AND SUICIDE

In which I blog about my other blog

So, to some, it might not come as a surprise that I review books on the side under a pseudonym, Nikki Mars.
I just started updating that blog, after having it be on hiatus for 3 years. I've dusted off the cobwebs and gave it a new layer of paint to freshen it up. My first review is of Divergent, and some of the issues in plot I had with it. Check it out.

In the meantime, I plan on making more writing based posts to fill this blog up. Right now I'm working on a post about likeable characters: do we have to like a character or not in order to have a good book?

If you have any other requests for writing based posts, or even just life stuff about me and my furry animals, please leave a comment or email me. I love hearing from you all.

I really need to post more often...

Dang, I haven't been here in ages. And I hate knowing that I've neglected this blog.
So, what have I been up to since January? Not much, really.

~

Started my last year of uni, with some classes that don't feel relevant to writing at all. But I did have to get myself an internship for one of my classes, and that worked out great. I got an internship at Little Raven Publishing, a small Australian-based erotic publisher, which was super fun. Something nice to add to my writer's resume. In the long run, I hope to get a job in the publishing industry.

~

Got diagnosed with bipolar disorder and OCD, and finally got treatment for it, which is, like, the best thing ever. My mood swings haven't been quite as intense, and it makes it easier for me to find the motivation to do more that just lie in bed with a book on my face and a dog on my legs, day after day.

Unfortunately, one of the side effects I've been getting is intense vertigo every time I stand up, but it's so worth it.

~

I guess you could say I'm the bees knees

Got another tattoo, and they're my favourite ones yet. Lately I've been really passionate about gardening and flowers, and the importance of bees. Also, it shows my love for puns. 

~

Officially came out as pansexual to my peers, which may have been the scariest, yet most exhilarating thing I've ever done.  I don't think I've ever felt prouder of myself, and relieved at all the positivity gained from it. 

~

Started plans for a new novel, and all I'm going to say about it for now is that it's a modern retelling of The Snow Queen, with mermaids, a guest appearance of Cthulhu, a damsel saving her knight in distress, and no love triangles whatsoever. More details to come as I go through it. 

~

And, saving the best for last, my family has grown by two! 

Meet Selina and Luna!

They already get along so well with Layla, in fact, Luna just adores Layla, and loves grooming and bopping her on the nose, as pictured.

So, that's been my life for the last few months. I hope I can post more frequently than before. Maybe at least once a month like I used to, at least a book haul or what I've read for the month, that sort of thing.

See ya next time!

A quick post to let you know that I'm not dead, and what I've been obsessing with lately

Apologies for not posting in several months. Especially after that last post wherein I talked in verbatim about my depression. I hope no one thought I'd pulled an Allie Brosh (her several months-long hiatus on Hyperbole and a Half, with no warning, after her own post on depression was an extremely worrying time for me.)
But I've been getting better. I think. My feelings have been going up and down, as to be expected with mental illnesses. But I've been dealing with it. I've made a new friend in my course, who quickly turned into my best friend. And this best friend introduced me to superheroes.

Now, I've read some comics before. I'd read the first 100-something issues of Fables, before getting sick of the convoluted, meandering plot. Ditto with The Walking Dead. But I'd found it difficult to get into superhero comics, mainly because, well, I found the Batman universe uninteresting and too male-angsty for me (Oh, Chris Nolan, please tone down the angst), just to name one example, and the comic community is severely anti-woman, as I've encountered.
But after reading some comics that he forced onto me (I completely recommend Loeb's Hush, Tomasi's Batman and Robin run (up until Damian dies), Simone's Brids of Prey run, and Dini's Gotham City Sirens run), I've become so in love with the feels that the superheroes give me.

So, I've decided, since I can't think about anything else, that I'll post a few things on various topics regarding comics.
Next post, which should be up within a few days, will be all about the disdain some people have for comics, and how they sometimes don't see comics and graphic novels as real literature, and how they're not real books.
I'll also be discussing feminism in comics (with a lot of vitriol at the New 52 Wonder Woman, and just Wonder Woman's current situation).
After that, I'll talk about writing in comics, which, as a novelist, I've discovered is incredibly ruthlessly difficult to grasp, but super incredibly fun.

I hope that this will help me keep consistent in posting often, and that I can rant happily about my new passions, and maybe even educate people.

Art and Insanity

It's become this thing to associate artists with mental illnesses. Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, David Foster Wallace, Ernest Hemmingway (just to name a few) are all writers who committed suicide. Heck, there's even a wikipedia page on the link between creativity and mental illness.

Mental illness is something I think about often, since I suffer from quite a few different problems: anxiety, depression, and OCD. Who knows what other illnesses I might be harbouring in that brain of mine.

As much as I hate to say it, as a result of this connection between art and insanity, it makes me think of death in a very personal manner. Not in a "I think about killing myself" way (although, when the depression gets really bad, I suppose I can't help but think like that), but it makes me think of how torturous the life of an artist must be, that the mind breaks in such a way.

~

It's taken me two months to write this post. Sometimes, I delete every single word, because I worry it's too personal, and nobody wants to hear me whining about how sucky my life is. It's so difficult to put my thoughts down, to create something I feel happy with. I haven't written anything in ages. I find myself empty and lost when I try to conjure up some words. I feel like a failure when I can't produce perfection.

~

I've been skipping school a lot lately. I know I said I'd cut back on skipping classes, but these past few weeks, when I wake up, I just can't get out of bed. I dread facing the day ahead of me. The mere thought of being surrounded by hundreds of people in the city haunts me. So I just hide in my bed and wait for the feeling to pass.

It never does.

~

My doctor upped my antidepressant dose. It used to be 75mg, but my anxiety had begun to manifest in the form of stomach pains every time I ate, so now my meds are at 150mg. The side effects are annoying. I feel buzzed sometimes, as if my brain isn't really my brain. I space out sometimes. If I take my meds without any food, then I get so nauseous that I feel like I could throw up, but instead of throwing up, I sneeze.

I've been trying so hard to find a therapist, but it's near impossible to find affordable mental health care. And I need someone suited for my needs. My last therapist was great, but she flat out told me that she doesn't know how to deal with anxiety that manifests as OCD. How am I supposed to get better if the government basically doesn't want me to?

~

My passion for anything has diminished. I don't find absolute joy in writing anymore. I can't even lose myself in a book, and forget about the world around me, and my problems. I don't hang out with my friends because a part of me, the depressed part of me, tells me that I probably won't have any fun, that I'll be too busy worrying about everything to have fun.

~

I'm slowly punishing my body for having anxiety. I have a form of OCD called dermatillomania, which is essentially a compulsion to pick at the skin. As a result, my arms, shoulders, face and scalp are covered in sores and scabs. I have near-premanent semi-circles under my nails, of blood that's dried from red to brown to black.
I can't wear clothes that show my upper arms or back, because I'm terrified of people seeing the scars and the sores. I'm terrified of what they'll think of me. And it just makes me pick more and more.
On cold days, the scars on my wrists are so purple against my ghost-pale skin. It makes them so much more visible. I used to be so terrified that people would see them. One of my friends freaked out when she saw them. It made me feel like I'd done something bad. But it's so hard to hide them. I can't wear jumpers and long sleeved-shirts forever. I wish someone would just tell me that having these scars isn't such a big deal, and that I'm not weak for wanting to cut.

~

The nails on my left hand are warped from the way I chew and pick at them. I don't often pick with my right hand, nor do I chew on that hand, so the nails are long and strong. Healthy.

~

For uni, I had to write about a body part, and I wrote about my skin. I wrote about the hate I have for my dermatillomania, for the anxiety that makes me pick. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to write. This is just as hard.

~

It's so hard to talk to people about this, simply because for the most part, they don't understand it. I've had so many people tell me to get over it, that I'm just overreacting, that I just need to cheer up, as if it were as simple as that. It just results in me feeling even more broken, because if it's that easy for other people, then why am I struggling so hard? Why can't I just snap my fingers and magically be happy again?

I guess this is why this post exists: so I can get things off my chest before I explode and do something irrational and stupid and possibly dangerous. This is very much a cry for attention and a cry for help. I do in fact want people to reach out to me. I mean, who doesn't?

It's nice to feel wanted and loved every once in a while.

~

I feel like I am a worthless human being right now. Because writing is the only thing I feel like I'm good at, the only thing I live for. But if I can't write, if I'm too mentally broken to write, where does that leave me?

The Next Chapter of My Life : Now Featuring Responsibilities!

So, as you'd probably guessed from the last post, I celebrated my 21st birthday last week. This means that in America, I can drink. Not that exciting, considering I've been drinking legally here in Australia for the past 3 years, but whatever.

Being 21 also means responsibilities, and finally having to act like an adult.

Whenever I'd celebrated my birthdays in the past, the first thing anyone ever asked me was "How does it feel to be ___?"

What sort of a question is that?

Is one day supposed to change you so completely, that you're no longer the same person with the same thoughts and wishes? Is feeling nine years old different from feeling eight? To me, it all seemed to be a huge blur.

But now, I feel that the question finally makes sense.

How does it feel to be twenty-one?

Terrifying, is the short answer to that question.

It seemed that all at once, all these responsibilities and adult things suddenly sprung up, and I have to struggle to understand them, to conquer them, and to be, well, an adult.

I still live with my dad. I've never had a proper job. I have no qualifications apart from my high-school degree. I don't have a source of income. And I desperately want to move out.

There's a lot of problems with this last point. Moving out equals having money in order to actually pay for things, like food, rent, bills, and other things. It just feels like all at once, I'm being bombarded with all these responsibilities--oh gosh, when I get a job, I'll have to do TAXES. How??--and it feels suffocating. They don't teach you this stuff at school. They just expect you to have your birthday, and suddenly know what a mortgage is, how best to save money, how to pay taxes, how to get a job, how to create a routine of fending for yourself in the real world. And it's terrifying, you know?
It's even more terrifying if you're like me and have ridiculous anxiety, and worry about the smallest thing.

I have to take things in baby steps. I'm going to consider adding this to my new years resolution list, because this is important.
Firstly: get a job. Any job. Something to help me get some money, and experience, so I can start saving up to move out.
Secondly: think about moving out. My friends and I have come up with a plan (though, it may or may not even end up coming to fruition, but even if we don't stick to it, I'll be sticking to it and trying to make something of it), that in 2014 we find a place, and live together.
Thirdly: survive, I guess. I don't really know what comes next. Life? Some mysterious next step in adulthood that no one's bothered to inform me about? I don't know.

All this needs to be done while at the same time managing my other goals, studying, and generally trying to survive living.

Seems easy enough, right?

So yeah, wish me luck.

2013 Resolutions

Happy New Year!

I want to focus on this new year with a positive eye and with positive goals in mind. It's important that I look after myself and my mental health.
Anyways, without further ado, here are my resolutions:

• Read at least 100 books

My goal last year was to read 200 books, and I barely made it. The only reason I actually broke my goal was because I'd read a whole bunch of short story/novella ebooks to bump up my book count. It was stressful to try to reach my goal, and I really don't want to go through that again. 100 seems like a nice, safe number. Very doable, and high enough that it'll make me feel good about myself. 

• Write at least one complete novel

As a writer, I need to constantly be writing. Duh.

Notice that the word complete is in there. Last year, I'd written one complete novel, and two novels that were a bit more than half done, but I'd kind of lost myself and abandoned it. I don't want to keep doing that.

• Get passing grades at uni

Uni is very hard for me. Because of my mental health problems, I sometimes don't have the will to get out of bed, let alone travel all the way into the city to be surrounded by hundreds or thousands of people. I struggled last year, because I skipped so many classes and lectures because of my depression/anxiety (also, I was pretty sick at one point). So, my goal this year isn't to not skip classes, because that won't help my mental health, but instead to try to do better at my coursework. If I skip a class, then I have to get ahead: do all the readings and assignments well ahead of time to make up for the lost classes.

• Keep a reading journal

I got this idea from bettielee from Far Seeing Fairy Tales, to keep a journal of all the books I've read this year, and to write short tidbits of how I felt, notable quotes, and other such stuff. It's sort of like reviewing, I guess, except that this will be a project for myself. When I reviewed books, it got to the point where I wasn't doing it for myself any more, but for my readers and for publishers, and for my GR followers. And that wasn't fun. It felt like a chore, a job. But maybe, if I do this reading journal thing, it'll open me up a bit, and get me back on track to writing a review every now and then. We'll see. 

I already have a gorgeous notebook all ready and waiting for my first entry. I'm sort of excited. :)

• Be more social

Because of my mental health problems, it's very hard to make friends, or to keep them. I have severe social anxiety that makes me keep to myself, and ignore people, because that's how I feel safest. But, in order to make and keep friends, I have to open up a bit. Just a bit. This will be a continual work in progress, and who knows, it might be one that I have to keep working at for years. 

Speaking of which...

• Work on bettering my mental health

From the amount of times I've mentioned it in this post, by now you've guessed that my mental health is a bad thing. It consumes me, in the simplest sense. 

Last year, I already took the first steps towards bettering myself by getting myself to a psychologist and getting on antidepressants to help me somewhat. The goal for this year is to find a psychiatrist that works well with me and my specific problems, and to find ways to control my compulsive habits. Like the previous goal, this is something that I need to work on in baby steps, and it may take several years to work towards.

• Finish editing FG

FG is my precious main project. It's the novel I want to get published more than anything. Problem is, I need to finish editing it. 

I'm very slow and lazy when it comes to editing. But this year, I'm going to discipline myself. I need to get better at editing on a deadline, otherwise, no agent nor publisher would want to work with me. 

Also, I'm fairly sure that my CPs are getting really annoyed at me for making them wait so long, haha. You'll get it soon, guys, I promise!

So yeah, these are my new years resolutions. In a years time, we'll see if I've kept them.

On Having Writer Friends

It was only in the last few years that I met people who were just like me: people who were just as obsessed with words as I am. I met three of my best friends over the internet. Angela and Krystle via LiveJournal (thanks to our love for Throne of Glass, or Queen of Glass, as it was called when it was still on FictionPress), and Nafiza through book blogging. One thing we all share in common is our love for reading, and our love for writing. In fact, Krystle and Nafiza are both doing NaNo this year.

Before I started uni, my writer friends were only the people I met on the internet. I had never ever ever come across a person in real life who'd shared the same passion for words. And, to be honest, it felt kind of lonely. It felt like I was the only person in the whole of Australia who liked writing.

Now that I've finished my first year of uni, where I study Creative Writing, I've met so many wonderful, like-minded people. I already have two best friends, and many other people that I would openly call my friends. I know, it's starting to sound really sappy right about now, but just bear with me.

So, a few of us RMIT kids are doing NaNo this year. Last Monday, we gathered at a bar and talked about our ideas, and man, it was awesome. It really got me thinking about my story, and it was really inspiring to sit with a whole bunch of people who share the same love for writing.
On Thursday, which will be the 1st of November, the first day of NaNo, we'll be having a write-in, and I'm super excited. I'm expecting myself to write a lot, since I'm really competitive, and I can't stand the thought of someone writing more than me. And the best part is, that if I'm struggling, they'll be able to cheer me on, and help me out. Ditto with my internet writer friends.

The moral of this post, I guess, is to surround yourself with people who write. Wether it be on the internet, or in real life. People who share your passions are far more likely to understand why you're crying in the middle of the night because you just killed off your favourite character. Non-writer people, on the other hand, will just think you're just a bit crazy.

Totally Unprepared for NaNo

So, literally 2 minutes ago, I finished my last essay for uni. It was a comparative essay concerning the Australian landscapes of two of the set novels, if anyone cares.

This means that I finally have time to relax and read books and play Pokemon Black and Black 2, and, of course, plan for NaNo.

Honestly, I have no idea what I'm going to write for NaNo. Usually by now, I'd have a rough idea of what I want to write, but this year, I have absolutely nothing. But that's okay, I guess. I do have 10 days until it starts. That's plenty of time, right?

Anywho, I'll be updating the blog more frequently now that I'm on holidays, and during November, I'll be updating at least once a week with stats (if you followed my old blog, you'd know how much I love word metrics).

If you want to be my buddy on the NaNo website, my username is ChibiJeshka. I love meeting new people, especially if they love writing as much as I do. :)

Books Read in September

Gosh, this has been the crappiest month ever. I've been constantly sick, with on-again, off-again flus, and then I found out that it was because I have sinusitis.
Sinusitis totally doesn't sound like a real sickness. Every time I catch myself saying it, I keep thinking, you just made that word up, didn't you? But I promise I didn't make it up. My doctor must have made it up, or something.
But yeah, that's what my life has been for the past month. I've missed a month's worth of classes, but that's okay, because most of my classes don't actually seem to need me to be present, so I'm a bit lucky. I've also gotten a bit behind on my reading and editing, because sinusitis apparently means that I need to have constant migraines because of the pressure of constantly blocked sinuses. Fuck you, sinuses!
I've been on antibiotics for the last 9 days, and they end tomorrow, but I don't feel much better. Bleh. I hate being sick.

Anywhos, enough of my whining, here are the books I managed to read this month:
As always, * indicates a favourite, and ~ indicates a graphic novel or manga or picture book.

1. Fifty Shades Darker (Fifty Shades of Grey, #2) - E.L. James
2. The Little Storm Dancer (The Lotus War, #1.5) - Jay Kristoff ~
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte *
4.  Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation  Elissa Stein & Susan Kim
5. Every Other Day - Jennifer Lynne Barnes
6. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell *
7. The Assassin and the Empire (Throne of Glass, #0.4) - Sarah J. Maas
8. City of Lost Souls (The Mortal Instruments, #5) - Cassandra Clare
9. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame Smith
10. The Gunslinger (The Dark Tower, #1) - Stephen King
11. Jurassic Park (Jurassic Park, #1) - Michael Crichton
12. Throne of the Crescent Moon (The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, #1) - Saladin Ahmed
13. Glass Houses (The Morganville Vampires, #1) - Rachel Caine

Image taken on my Instagram

14. On the Edge (The Edge, #1) - Ilona Andrews
15. Adorkable - Sarra Manning
16. The Avengers vol 1. - Brian Michael Bendis & John Romita Jr. ~

So yeah, not much of an exciting list this month. I finish uni halfway through October, so maybe then I'll have more time to read. If my sinusitis goes away, that is.
Of the books I read this month, only two really stood out: Jane Eyre and Cloud Atlas. 

Jane Eyre was read for my literature class for uni, and I loved every moment of it. The writing is just phenomenal, even though sometimes Bronte does tend to ramble on about the most inane detail. I can't wait to write my essay on it concerning gender and societal roles. I'm so excited. *is such a nerd*

Cloud Atlas also had phenomenal writing, but what made this book stand out was the sorta gimmicky way it combined six separate strands to make one overarching story. And each of the six stories, despite focusing on completely different topics, characters, and even genres, was fantastic in its own way. Several weeks later, and I'm still thinking about it. This book definitely needs a reread at some point in the future. Maybe before I watch the film.

Hopefully next month will bring a more fruitful list. I've been going insane from not reading enough. I'm not used to reading at the speed of a normal person. I don't like it. :c

Currently Reading.
Image taken on my Instagram

Yeah, so the last time I posted was in May. I'm not good at this blogging thing, am I?

This time I have a good excuse.

Sort of...

See, I finished my first semester of uni, and I thought, "man, I could get so much work done during the holidays. I can blog, and write and edit and read all of the books."

Yeah.. that didn't work out so well. Turns out, too much free time = doing nothing at all for almost 2 months.
So, I can't wait until uni starts up again, so that I can start scheduling my life about. Last semester, I spent most of my breaks in a coffee shop, or in the State Library, working on my WIP. I read at least 2 hours a day on the train (it's an hour in one direction... bleh), and life was good. It was easy to do things and to not put them off for later.

I start uni again in 2 weeks, so let's see if it actually works out. I'll be collecting bets, if anyone thinks I'll fail.