This year I'm participating the YA Scavenger Hunt! YAY! Trust me, these prizes are way more exciting than any dyed rainbow eggs. What are you hunting for? Secret numbers. The prizes? These books below! Never joined the hunt before? It’s easy. The…
Every January I begin my countdown to the last 1/4th of the year. Despite crunching leaves and crackling ice and hot chocolate, easily my favorite part of the last part of the year is the reading weather. The atmosphere makes…
Dear Book Boyfriends,
The other week I wrote a letter to Nancy Drew, the female character that influenced my life the most. I thought it fitting to also write a letter to the male character who influenced my life.
Except.
I couldn’t name any of you.
All my male book influencers just turned out to be book boyfriends. A shallow relationship that made my heart pump a little faster but left my soul untouched.
This included all of you–from Flynn Rider to Lewis from Meet the Robinsons to John in I Am Number Four to Jonas in The Giver to Kvothe. Don’t get me started on Ender’s Game. The kid is, like, 6? 8? I’m not convinced you’re that young, Ender.
Dear Nancy Drew,
I am a huge Emma Watson fan. I love just about everything she does, especially on the gender equality front. Seeing a sneak peek of her role as Belle in Disney’s new Beauty and the Beast got me thinking about what female character influenced me the most growing up.
To my surprise, it wasn’t Belle. It wasn’t even Hermoine.
It was you.
Thank you for teaching me I didn’t have to love the boring books my mom wanted me to read, like Jane Eyre or A Tale of Two Cities, in order to love reading. I mean, somebody else loved artifacts and archeology as much as I did!
I’m not a sentimental person. One of my earliest, if not the earliest, memory I have is of losing a precious stuffed animal lamb. I’ve lost many more things I loved throughout the years–the pair of sunglasses I saved up for, my 16th bday present–a camera, even years and years of treasured photos when my wallet was stolen.
The lesson younger me learned was: to love objects is to lose them.
Didn’t help any that my mom is a pragmatist and we had very few knick-knacks growing up. I inherited that gene. I let my poor husband pack one small box of knick-knacks during our move from our apartment to a house.
Over the weekend, I read a post by my friend Elsie Elmore about items that hold special meaning to us. So while her cherished item was a Valet Chair from her father, I had to think really hard about what item I cherish.
And I couldn’t think of any.
I could, however, think of words.
Words are the one thing I’ve kept throughout my life. Wherever I go, whenever somebody leaves me a note that makes me happy, I put it into a file. I’ve been collecting since I was a kid. This is the file:
I finally bought hardcover copies of both The Percy Jackson series and The Heroes of Olympus. Trust me, they were a workout to lift. As I was reading the series, I realized–holy crap! I think my husband is a demigod! Specifically, a son of Hephaestus.
If you’re not familiar with the series, a demigod is born from either a Greek and Roman god and a mortal. They display certain characteristics that makes them recognizable and are often fighting monsters or big baddies from old, like Kronos.
I’ve been documenting evidence over the last month to prove it. Here are my results:
1. He has both certified dyselxia and ADHD. (This means his brain is hard wired for ancient languages and for fighting.)
2. He can actually read Greek.
3. Monsters attack our house. No way are these messes caused by actual human beings.