bones | Tumblr

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helgapataki:

I find it hard to look at you, because everytime I do, I want to jump your bones.

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mariannejleano:

Cold to the bones, chills on my skin and throat constantly sore -_-

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-thecasanovette:

Forgot something!

My fam is starting to ask me what I want for Christmas? I haven’t really thought about it, but I guess so far..

Lovely Bones: Author, Alice Sebold
13 Reasons Why: Author, Jay Asher
Dear John: Author, Nicholas Sparks
UP THE MOVIE 2 DISC WITH THE GRAPE SODA CAP <33333
Rings, rings, rings
Crewneck Sweatshirts (Simple Hanes? etc.. Size Small)
Racecar Blue nail polish
If all else fails? A meaningful hug(:

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explosivejean:

“I WOULDNT SELL IT IF YOU DDNT SMOKE IT.”

—	bizzy bone - that part is sooo funny to me.

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flawedtiming:

My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2009-12-6)

Imported from Last.fm Tumblr by JoeLaz

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explosivejean:

“I need a 10 bitch! I aint taking 9.99 I want my full ten. I ain’t letting nothing slide. I’m getting richer everyday cuz im selling crack. I wouldnt sell it if you didnt smoke. You think its funny the way a Bone will make his money? Everyday is almost the same thang.”

—	Bizzy Bone

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stfusandra:

I started this a while ago and never finished. Fail.

10 things you want for Christmas:

A puppy
Cheap necklaces
Jeans
Forever 21 clothes
To see Chris more than once a week
Good books to read
A new desk for my room
Old Nickelodeon shows on dvd
Snuggie
To keep being as happy as I am right now.

9 musicians/bands you love:

No Doubt
Elvis Presley
Incubus
The Clash
Lady Gaga
Arctic Monkeys
The Ramones
Garbage

8 things you do everyday:

Breathe
Text Chris
Shower
Go on Facebook
Listen to good tunes
Eat
Drink
Be Merry

7 things you enjoy:

Puppies
Sleeping in
Being with Chris
Daydreaming in class
Cuddling up with a good book at 12 am
Hanging pointlessly at Michelle’s house
Gingerbread lattes

6 things that will always win your heart:

Puppies
Random hugs and kisses in toy stores
Hand-holding
Tickling, even though I pretend I hate it
Good morning texts
More puppies

5 favorites (currently)

Movie: Knocked Up
Song: Fluorescent Adolescent
Book: The Lovely Bones
Band: Don’t have just one. See above.
Season: Fall.

4 smells you enjoy:

Vanilla Cupcake Yankee Candle
Him :)
Cucumber melon
Christmas tree

3 places you want to go:

Ireland
France
California

2 holidays you love:

Christmas
Halloween

1 person you’d marry on the spot:

Seth Rogen.

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darlingfred:

paratrooper song

Is everybody happy said the sergeant looking up
Our hero feebly answered “Yes” and then they hooked him up,
He jumped into the slipstream, and he twisted twenty times,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus
Glory glory what a hell of a way to die,
When your hanging from your braces and you don’t know how to fly,
Glory glory what a hell of a way to die,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

He counted loud , he counted long and waited for the shock,
He felt the wind, he felt the air, he felt that awful drop,
He pulled his lines, the silk came down and wrapped around his legs
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus

The days he lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind,
He thought about the medics and wondered what they would find,
He thought about the girl back home, the one he left behind.
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus

The lines all wrapped around his neck, the D rings broke his dome,
His lift webs wrapped themselves in knots around each skinny bone,
His canopy became his shroud as he hurtled to the ground,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus

The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild,
The medics, they clapped their hands and rolled their sleeves and smiled,
For it had been a week or more, since last a chute had failed,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus

He hit the ground, the sound was “splat”, the blood went spurting high,
His pals were heard to say “Oh what a lovely way to die”,
They rolled him up still in his ‘chute, and poured him from his boots,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

Chorus

There was blood upon his lift webs, there was blood upon his chute,
Blood that came a trickling from his paratrooper boots,
And there he lay like jelly in the welter of his gore,
And he ain’t going to jump no more.

#WWII #Band of Brothers #I didn't realize that it was so long

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dustinobryan:

All we ever wanted, was a cool dry place to rest our bones.

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emangobutter:

Survey.

Do you still talk to your FIRST love? God? yes. Parents and relatives? yes. Aside from that? nope.

What was your FIRST alcoholic drink? I’m actually going to try going through my whole life without a single one.

What was your FIRST job? Macy’s!

What was your FIRST car? Lol our beat up Red Dodge Sports Caravan

Who was the FIRST person to text you today? Twitter. lol

Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning? Secret. :)

Who was your FIRST grade teacher? Oh wow I forgot her name..

Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane? Philippines.

Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk? Ka Angelo. Only when I see him. He’s just SORTA busy. lol

Where was your FIRST sleep over? Non-relative? Giselle’s house for her birthday. Then we went to watch the FIRST Shrek movie. It was fun.

Who was the FIRST person you talked to today? Sister.

Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time? Ate Inah and Kuya Ford’s :)

What was the FIRST thing you did this morning? Check my phone.

What was the FIRST concert you ever went to? I don’t remember but it was in the Philippines.

FIRST broken bone? None yet thankfully.

FIRST piercing? My thumb with a stapler. lol

FIRST foreign country you’ve gone to? Korea i think? On the way to the Philippines. Haha

FIRST movie you remember seeing? Land Before Time.

When was your FIRST detention? Junior year of High School.

Who was your FIRST roommate? Yet to have one.

If you had one wish, what would it be? More direction… or a cool super power. :)

What is something you would learn if you had the chance? Surfing.

Did you marry the FIRST person to ask for your hand in marriage/ you asked to marry? We’ll find out. Haha

What was the first sport you were involved in? Soccer.

What were the first lessons you ever took? Accordion

What is the first thing you do when you get home? Go to my room.

Who do you think will be the next person to post this? Nooooo idea.

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ohbabyyy:

and with that note, heres more,

i dont hold hands in public places, thats where the whole me caring about what other people think comes into play. its a major flaw and even i frown upon it. im more straight up than a damn gangster, its not in a lame way, its in the way that i’ll tell you nearly every thought thats on my mind and i’ll over think of ways to try and make it better until i make myself sick. i listen, not just hear. if i look at something, anything, for a while, i create designs. i’ll never find the idea of waiting for another girl reasonable ever again. i’ve realized i shouldnt have to wait for someone when they should have already been there. if i go out and by my favourite candy chances are i wont share with you, unless i really really like you or youre my girlfriend, guys wouldnt stand a chance at dipping in my bag.. hehe. i want you to tell me everything that someone has done wrong to you, so that i can make up for it in the biggest way. i want to be the best: at life and in this. dont ask me what this is, i have no idea. just go with it. dont stand in my way. as a matter of fact, dont sit in it either. its my way. damn it, ive started rambling again. okay, so i cant stay on topic for shit. thats why im cute, eh? i cannot stand doing hours or homework or essays or reading, but i can sit for hours drawing what you cant even think of, because im that good. im not cocky. im not conceited. okay okay, maybe on a good day im conceited. i dont think im pretty most of the time, i strongly dislike my body until i get that one glance where i can see my hip bones. i freaked out one day when i was on my laptop. yes, ill admit i was doing something inappropriate, but anyways, i freaked out and put a piece of paper over my webcam, just incase somehow it would turn on and people would see. im slightly paranoid, but im pretty positive about it. by that, i mean, its not in a bad way. i think im kind of silly, like goofy. i also think that this whole rambling thing has gone on for way too long. i write a novel about my life, i just wonder if people will keep on reading or think its boring. so, you tell me. the end.

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musicalirony:

formspring.me

Jensen Ackles and Chris Fine both walk into your room. Who do you bone? Can only pick one.

Jensen Ackles.
Sorry Chris, but look at that sexy face.
http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ktwdvteJjN1qzw6s3.gif

Ask me anything

#formspring.me

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hellorocello:

HEY LINDSAY LOHAN, NICE CHEECK-BONES, HOW MUCH WERE THEY?

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padfootly:

Dear Tumblr,

Everything’s going to be just fine. Don’t be afraid of your past or afraid of your future. Embrace the opportunities presented to you. Love every day for what it is. Get deep into your melancholy and feel it in your bones because that’s kind of refreshing, sometimes, and then toss it out of you, because it’s not worth it. Move forward. Smile. Laugh. Life is pretty fucking great.

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swestwick:

And so it’s getting on for 5am over here and I’m still awake…again. Always a lovely feeling. Especially when you’d really rather not be. Tried sleeping but currently unable to switch the brain off, and I guess even if I could, it’s too damn cold and I can’t get comfortable. Fucking restless as hell. And my God, my back kills. It’s a lovely feeling to pop every bone in your spine in and out every time you roll over. Not. Things have been pretty odd recently. On Saturday…or was it last Friday…one of the two anyway, I went out and ended up with the Paramedic, always pleasant. But more worryingly perhaps, apparently it’s thought that some kid spiked my drink with muscle relaxant pills because of…I don’t actually know, but, mixed with Vodka, Whisky and whatever else was thrown my way, left me feeling pretty shitty. I definitely dealt with the whole introductions and meeting new people crap in that instance. A few cigs, a panic attack and puking on the carpet always does go down well. Fuck. I guess I can count myself lucky in that it didn’t trigger my bitch of a brain off, might have been a little more serious otherwise. Which reminds me, need to go get that checked. Blackouts are coming back again. Anyways, apparently I’m “lovely” so I must have done something right. Really don’t know what I’d have done without my bestie there though, literally sat with me all night and had no sleep just to make sure nothing went wrong. Really shows you who your friends are. Makes you appreciate how lucky you are. I think most people usually take a step back from the blood, cracked head, and puke, and when you’re vibrating like a fucking dildo as well… Anyways, I can’t think what to say, my brain kills. Back to trying to sleep. Ciao.

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jpnjennifer:

i took this from angelavo :)

I am 5’4 or shorter.

I have many scars.
I tan easily.
I wish my hair was a different color. I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.

I have a tattoo.
I am self-conscious about my appearance.

I have/I’ve had braces.
I wear glasses.

I’d get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free, scar-free.
I’ve been told I’m attractive by a complete stranger.
I have more than 2 piercings.

I have piercings in places besides my ears.

I have freckles.
Family/Home Life:
I’ve sworn at my parents.

I’ve been kicked out of the house.

I have a sibling less than one year old.
I want to have kids someday.

I have children.

I’ve lost a child.
Embarrassment:
I’ve slipped out a “lol” in a spoken conversation.
Disney movies still make me cry.
I’ve snorted while laughing.
I’ve laughed so hard I’ve cried.

I’ve glued my hand to something.

I’ve laughed till some kind of beverage came out of my nose.

I’ve had my pants rip in public.
Health:

I was born with a disease/impairment.
I’ve had stitches.

I’ve broken a bone.

I’ve had my tonsils removed.

I’ve sat in a doctor’s office with a friend.

I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed.

I’ve had surgery.
I’ve had chicken pox.
Traveling:
I’ve driven over 200 miles in one day.
I’ve been to Canada.

I’ve been to Niagara Falls.

I’ve been to Japan.

I’ve celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

I’ve been to Spain.

I’ve been to Africa.

I’ve been to France.
Experiences:
I’ve been lost in my city.

I’ve seen a shooting star.

I’ve wished on a shooting star.

I’ve seen a meteor shower.
I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas.
I’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator.
I’ve been to a casino.

I’ve been skydiving.

I’ve gone skinny dipping.
I’ve played spin the bottle.

I’ve crashed a car.

I’ve been skiing.
I’ve been in a play.
I’ve met someone in person from the internet.

I’ve caught a snowflake on my tongue.

I’ve seen the Northern Lights.

I’ve sat on a roof top at night.

I’ve played chicken.
I’ve played a prank on someone.

I’ve ridden in a taxi.

I’ve seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I’ve eaten Sushi.

I’ve been snowboarding.
Relationships:
I’m single.

I’m in a relationship.
I’m available.

I’m engaged.

I’m married.

I’ve gone on a blind date.

I’ve been the dumpee more than the dumper.
I miss someone right now. ;)
I have a fear of abandonment.

I’ve been divorced.
I’ve had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back.

I’ve told someone I loved them when I didn’t.

I’ve told someone I didn’t love them when I did.
I’ve kept something from a past relationship.
Sexuality:

I’ve had a crush on someone of the same gender.

I’ve kissed a member of the same gender.

I’ve had sex with more than one person at the same time.
I am a cuddler.

I’ve been kissed in the rain.

I’ve had sex outdoors.
I’ve hugged a stranger.

I have kissed a stranger.

I have had sex with a stranger.
Honesty/Crime:
I’ve done something I promised someone else I wouldn’t.
I’ve done something I promised myself I wouldn’t.
I have lied to my parents about where I am.
I am keeping a secret from the world.
I’ve cheated while playing a game.
I’ve cheated on a test.

I’ve run a red light.

I’ve been suspended from school.

I’ve witnessed a crime.

I’ve been in a fist fight.

I’ve been arrested.

I’ve shoplifted.
Drugs/Alcohol:
I’ve consumed alcohol.

I’ve smoked a cigarette.

I(‘ve) smoke(d) pot.

I regularly drink.

I’ve taken painkillers when I didn’t need them.
I’ve done hard drugs.

I’ve been addicted to an illegal drug.

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berezina:

“Cascando”

1.

why not merely the despaired of
occasion of
wordshed

is it not better abort than be barren

the hours after you are gone are so leaden
they will always start dragging too soon
the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want
bringing up the bones the old loves
sockets filled once with eyes like yours
all always is it better too soon than never
the black want splashing their faces
saying again nine days never floated the loved
nor nine months
nor nine lives

2.

saying again
if you do not teach me I shall not learn
saying again there is a last
even of last times
last times of begging
last times of loving
of knowing not knowing pretending
a last even of last times of saying
if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not love

the churn of stale words in the heart again
love love love thud of the old plunger
pestling the unalterable
whey of words

terrified again
of not loving
of loving and not you
of being loved and not by you
of knowing not knowing pretending
pretending

I and all the others that will love you
if they love you

3.

unless they love you

~Samuel Beckett [buy]

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equator:

Watch

FUCK THAT.

on a related note, my grandma got me the book for christmas and my mom got me the calendar. i have some bones to pick with the publisher of the calendar. it’s called PHOTOSHOP, and it can make photos BRIGHTER. so you can, you know, SEE THEM. she also is bound and determined to buy me every wtwta shirt ever produced.

#maybe this is why i'm singlr #or maybe there's no one hipster enough to date me

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dannnilynnn:

“I do not care what car you drive, where you live. If you know someone who knows someone, who knows someone. If your clothes are this years cutting edge. If your trust fund is unlimited. If you are a-list, b-list, or I’ve never heard of you list. I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing that you truly own, the only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones and skin. I will not fall in love with places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind.”

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ethan-canter:

Blood upon the risers

He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight; He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar, “You ain’t gonna jump no more!” (CHORUS) Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, He ain’t gonna jump no more! “Is everybody happy?” cried the Sergeant looking up, Our Hero feebly answered “Yes,” and then they stood him up; He jumped into the icy blast, his static line unhooked, And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock, He felt the wind, he felt the cold, he felt the awful drop, The silk from his reserve spilled out and wrapped around his legs, And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) The risers swung around his neck, connectors cracked his dome, Suspension lines were tied in knots around his skinny bones; The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground. And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) The days he’d lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind, He thought about the girl back home, the one he’d left behind; He thought about the medic corps and wondered what they’d find, And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild, The medics jumped and screamed with glee, rolled up their sleeves and smiled, For it had been a week or more since last a ‘chute had failed, And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) He hit the ground, the sound was “Splat,” his blood went spurting high, His comrades they were hurt to say: “A helluva way to die!” He lay there rolling round in the welter of his gore, And he ain’t gonna jump no more. (CHORUS) (slowly, solemnly) There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the chute, Intestines were a’dangling from his Paratrooper suit, He was a mess; they picked him up, and poured him from his boots, And he ain’t gonna jump no more Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die, He ain’t gonna jump no more!

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briantheninja:

The Crazy Eighth.

Now that I’ve cleared up the past a bit, it’s time to continue. I’m a good way into the forest, and I’m probably around the geographical region of The United States. Specifically, the state known as Oregon. One step closer to the North Pole.

I can sense something. Could it be a foe? An animal? No. It was Rain (Hydrogen Dioxide Precipitation). It would come near the forest in an hour or so. Not wanting to get my feet wet (My ninja tabi -Sandals- are new, you see), I quickly thought out a plan. I decided to build something that the mortals call a log cabin. This log cabin is made up of things called logs, rearranged to look like a cabin. Anyway, I quickly laid down a blueprint. The cabin would consist of a total of 103 logs (My apologies if you are obsessive compulsive, but nothing is ever perfect). I swiftly cut down 105, just in case. I followed the blueprint right down to the smallest crook and nanny, and finished in about two minutes. I also threw in a few stones for what mortals call stairs and roofs. It was wonderful.

Lovely isn’t it? I had some down time, so I decided to go hunt for anything that moved and looked like it tasted good. Walking through the forest I saw something very peculiar. Off in the distance there were broken trees and torn off bark. Surprised and curious I entered deeper into the forest.

There I saw a horrifying site, something I haven’t seen in years — a Lycanthrope (Or modernly known as The Werewolf). I remembered my last encounter with a Lycan, it was several years ago and this one proved to be bigger than the last one (This one was about 7’3”). However, this time I have no silver objects to use against it. Suddenly, it began to rain. The Lycan turned around and glanced at me with his yellow eyes and golden teeth. From years of training, I grew an immunity to a werewolf’s paralyzing death stare. It was surprised that its glare did not freeze me; it went for the offensive. Before I could react, the Lycan tackled me and sent me flying into a tree. I was caught off guard, dogs don’t eat ninjas. I eat dogs. The Ninja was mad.

“The Name’s Helsing. Van Helsing.” said the beast as the rain poured vigorously.

I choose not to reply. “Well, that’s kind of rude,” the Lycan commented. It charged once more, but it could not fool me. I substituted my body with a log piece. And grabbed the dog from behind and threw him. The canine seemed immobile from its fallen position. My hunger got the best of me. I was about to finish him, but I found myself flying into the air. He caught me again with his back legs. Before I had time to react, he tossed me against a tree, again. I lay there, still dizzy from the sudden series of attacks. I had just recovered my consciousness when I found him charging towards me again. I picked up a small rock and tossed it at Helsing. To my surprise, it actually hit him, but to no avail. He continued his charge. I leaped up to the first branch on the tree, hoping that he couldn’t climb trees. Was I ever wrong… No, I wasn’t. But he crashed the tree, severing it’s trunk. The entire tree split in two, sending me down along with it. I thought fast - But I didn’t know what to do. Those sharp claws and teeth could very well do away with me. Then I came back to reality.

I AM NINJA.

He rushed me again, and I swiftly shoved my fist into his hairy stomach. He flinched for a quick second, but that quick second was followed by a major onslaught. A kick to the face, a headbutt to the back, a stomp on the claws on his right hand, shattering them. He just lay there, seemingly unconscious. I didn’t want to check… But I did anyway. I didn’t kick the body, that is the way of the cowards. I knelt down, picked up his face, and asked him one quick question.

“Why did you attack me?”

The only reply that resulted was “Watt…”, or “What…”. He wasn’t dead, I knew that. I decided to start back to my cabin, not hungry anymore. I didn’t want to eat the werewolf, because they don’t taste all that great. While walking back, I heard some rustling, and turned back. The Red Ninja arrived again, knelt over to Helsing. He carried him up, and fled.

As suspicious as that was, I had some bones to mend. The Clock ticks for Twenty-Five, 17 days.

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regantee:

*Reblog and bold those you agree with!

I miss somebody right now.
I dont watch TV these days.
I wear glasses or contact lenses.
I love to play video games.
I have been in a threesome.
I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.
I believe honesty is usually the best policy.
I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.
I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.
I’m TOTALLY smart.
I’ve broken bones.
I’m paranoid sometimes.
I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.
I need money right now.
I LOVE sushi.
I talk really,really fast.
I have long hair.
I have lost money in Las Vegas.
I have at least one sibling.
I have worn fake hair/fingernails/eyelashes in the past.
I couldn’t survive without Caller ID.
I am usually pessimistic.
I have mood swings.
I have a hidden talent.
I’m always hyper no matter how much sugar i have.
I am currently single.
I enjoy talking on the phone.
I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.
I love to shop.
Enjoy window shopping.
I would rather shop than eat.
I don’t hate anyone. (just dislike)
I’m a pretty good dancer.
I’m completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.
I have a cell phone.
I believe in God.
I watch MTV on a daily basis.
I’ve rejected someone before.
I have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life.
I want to have children in the future.
I have changed a diaper before.
I’ve called the cops on a friend before.
I’m not allergic to anything.
I have a lot to learn.
I have been with someone at least 10 years older or younger.
I am shy around the opposite sex.
I have tried alcohol before.
I have made a move on a friend’s significant other or crush in the past.
I own the South Park movie.
I would die for my best friends.
I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.
I have used my sexuality to advance my career.
I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.
Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.
I watch Spongebob Squarepants and i like it.
I am happy at this moment.
I’m obsessed with guys.
I study for tests most of the time.
I tie my shoelaces differently from anyone I’ve ever met.
I am comfortable with who I am right now.
I have more than just my ears pierced.
I walk barefoot wherever i can.
I have jumped off a bridge.
I spend ridiculous money on makeup.
Plan on achieving a major goal/dream.
I’m proficient in a musical instrument.
I worked at McDonald’s restaurant.
I hate office jobs.
I love sci-fi movies.
I think water rules.
I went college out of state.
I like sausages.
I love kisses.
I usually like covers better than originals. (only sometimes)
I can pick up things with my toes.
I can’t whistle.
I can move my tongue in waves, much like a snakes slither.
I have ridden a horse.
I still have every journal I’ve ever written in.
I can’t stick to a diet.
I talk in my sleep.
I try to forget things by drowning them out with loads of distractions.
Climbing trees is a brilliant past-time.
I have jazz in my blood.
I wear a toe ring.
I will get/ have a tattoo.
I can’t stand at LEAST one person that i work with.
I am a caffeine junkie.
I cosplay or know what cosplaying is.
I have been to over 15 conventions.
I will collect anything, and the more nonsensical the better.
I’m an artist.
I only clean my room when necessary.
I like a person of the same sex.
I love being happy
I am an adrenaline junkie

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albertpark:

Random Fact #02

I’ve broken one bone in my life, my collar bone. At the Grand Canyon.

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supayosh:

this morning explained all the lethargyand ridiculous body aches i’ve been having. i absolutely absolutely hate cramps where nothing u do will seem right. the weather’s too hot and i wish i can rip out my pelvic bones. its a strange ache inside where no one can reach. no one but You jesus.

make me whole and fine again, so that i can be a good helper to cheryl later today Lord. if not for jz’s call, i’d still be in bed right now. its a gd thing he called. i would have sounded happier if i wasnt so tired n confused fresh from dreamland. i’m gonna sip some tea and make my way to work. if only i can will myself to move.

Jesus. You are my more than fine.

I hope this week will be over soon so i can see my baby soon. both of them.

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haleyjane:

In defense of Stephen King, or What is good writing, anyway?

By Michelle Kerns

The internet has been swarming with rabid Twilight fans eager to sink their teeth into Stephen King after the details of the interview he gave to USA Weekend — you know, the one in which he said that Twilight author Stephenie Meyer “can’t write worth a darn” and is “just not that good”? — emerged earlier this week.

The overwhelming majority of Ms. Meyer’s defenders have tried to refute Mr. King by relating how obsessively fascinating they found the Twilight books, how people who have never read a book willingly in their lives devoured the Twilight series in a day, etc.. Most Twilight defenders equate Mr. King’s condemnation of Ms. Meyer’s writing with a criticism of her ability to spin a tale that holds the reader’s attention.

However, nearly no one has directly addressed Mr. King’s actual assertion: that Ms. Meyer is a lousy writer; he didn’t call her a lousy storyteller — he called her a lousy writer.

Which begs the question, is the ability to tell a good story the same as good writing? And, if not, what is good writing?

If you look at fiction writing, you’ll see that most works fall roughly into one of two categories:

1. Stories that have an interesting plot with little to no character development or deeper meaning

2. Stories in which the plot itself is subordinate to the emotional and mental trials of one or more characters in reaction to certain events

While there is an infinite number of variations on these two themes, the most basic of all is the story that is a bare bones account of fictional events with no call upon the reader to draw any moral or philosophical meaning from the tale. In other words, just an interesting story.

Twilight falls into this category. The characters don’t change or grow in any meaningful way; the plot does not involve any sort of great sacrifice or universal human struggle; there is no call upon the reader to contemplate any issue or cause greater than themselves. The allure of Twilight is based solely on the reader’s reaction to the romance between Bella and Edward and their own emotional reaction to the characters themselves.

Now, don’t get me wrong here: I am not saying that Twilight is not a compelling story. What I am saying is that Ms. Meyer did not in any way try to elevate the story above that of teenage angst.

But what about Mr. King’s own writing? you sneer. How can he get off dissing Twilight when his own work is about resurrected children getting murderous and possessed cars and killer dogs? In fact, Mr. King’s work does rise far above the level of mere freaky storytelling. In each of his novels, Mr. King presents us with ordinary people who are confronted with extraordinary horror and evil and explores the very human struggles that the collision of the two causes.

Consider Pet Sematary. In that story, Mr. King isn’t just trying to freak us out over the thought of killer zombies — he’s addressing one of man’s most primitive instincts: ambivalence and fear of death. Death is everywhere in Pet Sematary: the main character, the father, is a doctor; his own father died when he was three; his wife doesn’t like any reference to death because of her memories of the death of her sister when she was young; the cat dies; the neighbor’s wife dies; their own son dies. When the father, knowing exactly what is going to happen (and that it isn’t going to be anything good) buries his son in the cemetary, he is acting out what every human since the beginning of time has wanted to do, regardless of the cost — to cheat death in any way conceivable. It’s impossible to read that story and not ponder about what he does — and come to the realization that we would do the same thing too.

And what about that classic of Halloween and teenage slumber parties, The Shining? Ask 1,000 people and you’d be lucky to get one person who won’t say that The Shining is nothing more than a story about a haunted hotel and a crazy looking Jack Nicholson. Yet, The Shining (we’re talking the book here, not the movie), is actually more focused on the father’s struggle to get his abusive and alcoholic act together for his family’s sake. In fact, Mr. King has repeatedly criticized the much celebrated film adaptation of The Shining for taking the focus away from this struggle and placing it on the more terrifying elements of the story.

All great writing, whether it be Pride and Prejudice, Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter has a theme larger than itself. These works show the progression of characters who either succeed or fail in their struggle to become the kind of person that can accomplish what they have been called on to do or face. But great writing isn’t just about great ideas; the presentation of those ideas — the nuts and bolts of the writing itself — is just as important.

Inexperienced writers all suffer from one common failing — they inevitably rely too heavily on description to hammer their point into the reader’s head. They use lots of adjectives and adverbs and lengthy, emotive passages to tell the reader what their characters are thinking and feeling instead of using carefully crafted sentences, word choice, and punctuation to convey the same things more effectively and without obvious effort. That is why the very best and most emotional writing seems so effortless — because the writer hasn’t just thrown words on the page; he or she has labored over each word, each syllable, each comma and semi-colon to make sure the words convey the right feel without the reader even being aware of it.

If you want to see some damn good writing, take a look at Dorothy L. Sayers’ first Lord Peter Wimsey mystery, Whose Body? (especially the chapters near the end of the book), Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, Toni Morrison’s Beloved, James Joyce’s Ulysses, and any essay E.B. White ever wrote. You’ll notice that these authors don’t ever tell you what their characters think or feel, yet somehow, you just know. How? The sentences have been specifically crafted to do just that, that’s how.

I would even go so far as to include Mr. King’s writing along with these greats. Even as a kid, sneaking Christine and Pet Sematary off my Dad’s bookshelf so I could read them in secret in my bedroom, I could tell Mr.King had a way with language that plenty of other writers just didn’t have. What I picked up on didn’t have anything to do with the actual storylines and everything to do with his ability to make the words and dialogue leap off the page and grab you by the throat.

Stephenie Meyer, on the other hand, fails to utilize any sophisticated writing techniques in the Twilight books. They are all straightforward, first person narrations that rely heavily on Bella telling the reader exactly what she thinks and feels at all times.

Some fans might argue that Ms. Meyer couldn’t have used complicated writing techniques anyway since her goal was to tell the story simply and honestly from Bella’s perspective. However, a number of gifted writers have used deceptively simple first person narratives to convey incredibly complicated and unvoiced ideas to great effect. An excellent example is Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go. The narrator, Kath, seems transparently honest and straightforward; however, the more you read, the more you realize that the important parts of the story lie in what Kath carefully avoids saying. Humans are such impossibly complicated creatures — they don’t just try to deceive other people, they try to deceive themselves as well, and Never Let Me Go captures that complexity to perfection. Ms. Meyer does not attempt this at all. With her prose, what you see is what you get — which is what keeps the series from being anything greater than an interesting story.

If Stephen King is to be faulted in any way for his comments about Ms. Meyer, it really could only be in that he didn’t consider John Updike’s Number 1 rule of book reviewing:

Try to understand what the author wished to do, and do not blame him for not achieving what he did not attempt.

Twilight is not an example of good writing, but, really, it wasn’t a serious attempt at it either. Stephenie Meyer did achieve what she was attempting — to tell a compelling story spiced with a bit of danger and a bit of romance. Let’s celebrate what she and the Twilight series have achieved, without pretending that it is anything more.

I agree with this completely. And as a reader and liker of the Twilight series, I in no way think that it is or ever will be considered great literature. But it is an engrossing story and I don’t think that there are many people who have read them that do not agree with me.