Dear Brandon High School Music Department,

I would like to tell you a story. It begins, as many stories do, with a girl looking to find herself in a new, exciting place. It was her first day of high school and she was understandably terrified. Moving to a larger environment where the unfamiliar faces outnumbered the ones she knew - some of them even old enough to be considered adults by law - was the first real bought of culture shock she had ever experienced. The only thing keeping the caterpillars in her stomach from forming into rambunctious butterflies was the fact that she had a secret.

As the girl walked down the pavement that connected the student drop-off point with the school's main entrance, she made polite conversation with the neighbor boy she had spent the last ten minutes sharing a back seat with in her mother's Chevrolet. He was nervous about not being able to find his first class, confessing that he wasn't sure if he would be able to tell if it was upstairs or down. The girl nodded along, clutching her freshly printed schedule in her clammy fist.

He turned to her, asking if she shared his fears, hoping that he was not alone. She gave him a small smile and agreed, telling the first lie of her high school career. Something she hoped would not happen often, if at all.

The girl was a bite naïve.

Together, the two 14-year-olds looked ahead to a set of four doors that separated them from the newest chapter of their lives. The girl couldn't very well tell him her secret, she rationalized in her head. It would take away the subtle wave of relief that colored his rosy cheeks. The same awe, in fact, that continued to wash over him as he as he craned his head and squinted at the painted sigil of a Blackhawk in mid-flight; a symbol that let them know that let them know that, at least for now, they were in the right place. Who was she to take that small sign of victory away on a day like today?

They entered together, looking for the locker numbers scribbled onto their timesheets, and found them nestled in a long hallway adjacent to the gym. Twisting the unfamiliar padlock, it took the girl a few times to get it right. She looked over at the boy, his locker a few yards away, and saw a similar struggle. Turning back, her eyes flickered above her locker for just a moment. The simple glance was enough to make her stomach clench as she met a pair of unfamiliar eyes. A photograph of a young woman smiled against a dull grey backdrop. The image was attached to a plaque and the girl had to squint to read it, the edges of her chubby cheeks meeting the cool metal of her wire-rimed glasses.

All-State Tennis, 1998.

The girl raised her eyebrows. How talented this person must have been to have received such high recognition, nailed to the walls for nearly a decade. The plaque was not alone, surrounded by dozens of others. What an inspiration they must be to all the athletes who walked this hallway every day. And indeed, the girl felt a little inspired herself, though she was far from an athlete. But the boy was and she looked over to him as she shut her locker, only to see him staring at one of the many adjacent trophy cases. He had been drawn to the basketball display, filled to the brim with golden statuettes and framed clusters of various teams old and new.

The boy made his way back over to say goodbye before they parted ways. The girl turned, the hallway seeming smaller now that she had already walked its length, and let out a breath that had been bundled up inside her chest. Her backpack lighter now that she had dropped off some of her books, she walked the familiar path and ended up outside an equally familiar set of metal double doors. Her secret, her safe haven, was finally in front of her.

You see, the girl was one step ahead of her classmates, who were no doubt skittering about in search of their homerooms. Instead of joining their skirmish, she took pride in the fact that she already knew where she was meant to be. In a way, she had known for most of her life.

Hidden away in a nook far from the everyday hustle and bustle of jocks and nerds was a room the girl had visited many times before. Visited, but never belonged. It was always a special occasion that led her to this room - a celebration or something even more spectacular. And as she opened the rightmost door, knowing that the other wouldn't budge because of a faulty hinge, she was met with a musk of old black dresses. An invisible cloud of hairspray. The echo of heels clicking further and further down the luminescent white hall, decorated only with old homemade collages of performances past and the talent that had made them possible.

The girl let out another breath, pocketed her schedule, and made way to the choir room at the end of the music hallway.

The door squeaked and slammed at exactly the right moment. Months before, she had walked this path as she performed her last show as a middle school singer, dressed in a gaudy blue polo and long back slacks. The space had been filled with familiar faces then, mostly girls putting on their first attempts at stage makeup, making sure the stage lights didn't wash out their perfectly pinched cheeks on their parents' recordings.

The girl braced herself, knowing she would be met with a much different sight. Still, she clung to her secret for it was the only thing keeping her from tripping over the hem of her jeans.

The door was secured at the end of the hallway, the space next to it already filled with posters for music camps and scholarships the girl could never dream of pursuing. Fiddling with the strap of her backpack one last time, she opened the door. It was still early, the first bell was still ten minutes shy of chiming, but already people were gathered. Backpacks were slung on the backs of chairs. Laughter bounced off the acoustic panels that lined the walls. Girls were lined up at the full-length mirror at the far end of the room, checking their makeup and hair. Perhaps some things hadn't changed.

As predicted, the girl was met with a masquerade of unfamiliar faces. People who were taller, older, prettier, and far more talented than she would ever be. Still hovering in the doorway, she darted her eyes around, searching for something familiar. Someone. Her gaze fell upon a bushel of brown hair, paired with a knit pencil skirt and wool zip-up sweater that somehow managed to compliment each other. The figure turned and gave her a kind smile, gesturing to a nearby chair in the front row. Pressing her lips in a fine line, the girl bowed her head and followed her director's orders.

Her secret now discovered, fully manifested around her, the girl felt her protective wall begin to waver - transforming from brick to straw. She tried to stay calm, reminding herself that her friends would be here soon.

Her eyes wandered as she twiddled her thumbs, trying to find something - anything - to focus on. For the second time that morning, she was met with a picturesque stare. Another smiling young woman atop a shining plaque. Her name was also written, except instead of tennis, her achievement read:

2003 State Honors Choir

The girl had seen these plaques before when she visited, of course, but never paid them much mind. They were always of people much older than she - people from another world. Now, she would see these faces every day and sit in their seats. Faces she didn't know, faces from the past, smiling down at her. Judging her. Questioning what she was doing there. She could fool herself, but could she really fool them?

The bell rang, followed swiftly by the director managing to bring order to the room by tickling a few chords on the piano. A cacophony of voices unrehearsed from months of vacation filled the room and the woman let out an almost invisible wince.

A few more chords in, and the girl's fists began to unclench. Her lungs began to stretch. Singing had always relaxed her, ever since she was little. True, it was also when she was at her most vulnerable, open to the judgement of others. But here, in this room, there was no judgement. At least, not this early in the year. The girl knew she could sing to her hearts content, unleash her very essence, and have it come back to her in once piece, untarnished by bullies or teachers with silver tongues.

The plaques continued to smile, though she could have sworn a few pairs of still eyes twinkled as the group harmonized together for the first time. Though her feelings of doubt would never really go away, the girl still wanted this feeling to last forever. She wanted to be among the eyes on the wall and watch as others felt what she was feeling.

The girl was not an athlete, nor did she have any interest in being one. But still she admired the faces on the wall, feeling like she was in the presence of a greatness she could never attain. But here, now, surrounded by other smiling faces real and framed, she felt as if greatness was in her grasp. No matter how ridiculous it seemed, she knew that she belonged here. She knew that she was safe.

The girl kept that feeling close to her until it eventually stuck on her chest. Through hardships, triumphs, and everything in-between, it never wavered. Not even when she watched as her own photo was placed on a special space above the door. She still felt safe. She still felt like she belonged. But greatness... that was up for debate. She did, however, manage to leave high school with a lightness in her step, a fact that many who have survived its trials cannot boast.

She left, but was never truly gone. The girl remained among the eyes on the wall and hoped that she would do her part to make other feels safe and maybe even inspired to achieve greatness of their own. Whether that greatness be preserved in a photograph or in the company of lifelong friends, it didn't matter, as long as those who felt its touch were where they belonged. The same could also be said of those eyes across the building; the ones who looked upon the trophies of their athletic teammates forevermore and left similar impressions to the twinkling eyes of aspiring Beckhams' and Williams'. Both sets served as testaments to the coaches who greeted them with a smile on their first day. They passed on that welcome long after their mentors were gone, and beyond when they inevitably followed.

Eight years, two graduations, and one retired choir director later, only one set of plaques remain impressed on the walls. The girl hears about it from a friend, whose mother had managed to save her picture before it was thrown into the trash.

Perhaps she should have been an athlete after all.

If Google says it's a word, why do the red squiggles keep showing up in Chrome?

Figure 1. Me when I heard the "new" news.

Figure 2: Harry Potter, a summary,

"I thought, 'What if we switched it around a bit and see how a boy does,' and, you know, it’s about the same." 

Figure 3. A girl who actually does stuff? Blasphemy!

Recently, Divergent and The Fault in Our Stars actress Shailene Woodley has been under fire for her comments about feminism to Time. When asked if she considered herself a feminist, she answered:

No because I love men, and I think the idea of 'raise women to power, take the men away from the power' is never going to work out because you need balance

After the interview surfaced, feminist-friendly websites like Tumblr blew up with comments shaming Woodley. Following their stead were sites such as the Huffington Post and Jezebel, writing the actress off as ignorant and a shining example of what is wrong with the image of feminism. According to them, what she described is feminism and the fact that she doesn't consider herself a feminist is an insult to the term and society. Woodley instead labels herself as a believer of "sisterhood."

Not many have jumped to Woodley's defense but I would sure like to try. It is my belief that Woodley was a victim of the press and her statement, however true or not, is an overblown opinion that only received this outcry in result of a targeted article.

Feminism is a delicate subject, mostly because of the negative images that many still associate with it. In its early stages, feminism was denounced by right-wing parties during the late-19th and early-20th century. Many left-wingers supported these women but they were still seen as revolutionary in their own right. After receiving the right to vote, the feminist movement continued to move forward with calls for other rights such as equal pay. There were a few extreme cases of violence to achieve this goal and they did more to set the movement back than move it forward. In the 60's, the infamous "burning bras" image started with a group of protesters in Europe. These few extreme occurrences were enough to denounce the movement for many. Today, the images still stick and feminists are widely regarded as bra-burning, violent, and greedy. Their agenda is spun to be an open attack against men rather than what it really is - a call for equality. There will always be extreme branches of any organization, but as a whole feminists want equality - not a power-shift. Because of the tendency of the media to only report on shock-value news, the message has somehow been lost. While it is up to a person to label themselves whatever they please, a lack of information on labels such as feminism can prevent an "accurate" stance.

Hollywood can roughly be labeled as a liberal industry. Many celebrities are activists in the gay rights movement, charity for third world countries, and feminism (among others). When a celeb comes out as against any of the "normal" views of the industry, there's bound to be uproar. After a few choice comments, Kirsten Dunst was labeled as an anti-feminist and went under similar scrutiny as Woodley earlier this year.

The problem is not with Miss Woodley, the problem is with society and the media. If you read the entire article, it is framed to make her sound like an ignorant young starlet. An example can be seen with her mention of The Other Women, a movie she mistakenly labeled as being directed by Judd Apatow. They seem to have quoted her verbatim, with her direct statement being "There's that new Judd Apatow movie [sic] movie coming out, The Other Women, and that looks really good because I think it shows women coming together and supporting each other..." Later, they made the point of clarifying:

Not everyone agrees The Other Women (which was not directed by Judd Apatow) is so empowering

They used the [sic] marking (meaning, roughly, "this is what they actually said") in a negative way, making it blatantly obvious that she made a mistake and using it against her argument against feminism. The entire article is a subtle attack against Woodley and she is merely a victim. I cannot say whether or not this frame affected how others read it, but it sure stuck out to me.

The point of the matter is that Woodley has the right to say whatever she likes, whenever she likes - just like any other person. The only difference is that her opinion is broadcast for everyone to see. Especially now, in what can only be described as the taking-off of her career, whatever she says will be scrutinized. No doubt she had at least a dozen people telling her what to say and when to say it. That's a lot of pressure for anyone to feel. While her statement can be read as ignorant, if one looks into the source of her statements, they can see the larger problem. Miss Woodley's words were framed in a negative article, one that used her as a puppet to expose the taboo of feminism and how anyone labeling themselves as anti-feminist is wrong and misinformed. It's not fair to Miss Woodley nor to the public to put the blame on one person and use them as the face of ignorance. The face of ignorance is in the mirror, more times than not, and the only one that can prevent it is you.

 In the wonderful world of books there are so many genres that it's hard to pick just one as the reigning champion of awesome. Everyone has their favorite world they like to dip into whether it be a tantalizing mystery, heart-pounding romance, exciting adventure, or a thought-provoking classic. Throughout the pool of amazing talent lies genres that are both revered and rejected. While the most popular for movie and television adaptations nowadays, fantasy seemingly drew the short stick in regards to respect in the literature field. A fact I find both shocking and demeaning.

Last semester, I had a bad experience with a professor who not-so-subtly put down the fantasy/sci-fi genre along with many others that did not fit into the "literary" category. They argued that these "genre writers" focused only on plot and left two-dimensional characters in their wake, making the book only satisfying as a one-time read. They demeaned the "page-turner" quality of fantasy, sci-fi, and mystery books as as a factor that should not be the desire of any writer - according to them, a writer should write complexly with stories that have multiple layers and focus on character more so than plot. She listed Lord of the Rings as the only exception.

"But I don't think any of you will be writing the next Lord of the Rings," she said. "So why try?"

There may never be a "next Lord of the Rings," nor should there be. It is a writer's job to create something new out of a bunch of used materials. Ever hear the phrase "There's no such thing as an original idea"? Well, that's true. It's what you do with that idea that makes it original - how you tell the story in a way only you can tell it.

Thankfully, I already knew that. My former professor didn't seem to.

I like to consider myself a well-read person. I have read books of every genre - the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have my own preferences, obviously, but I also respect other genres for what they bring to their fans. Yes, even erotica. I also have a writer's perspective on the whole ordeal. Granted, I am aware I still have a lot to learn. Writing is a constant learning experience with a neverending need to improve. But what has always remained constant is my taste in books.

To me, fantasy should garner much more respect than it receives. It is an audience favorite in many respects, which is great. But to the writing world, it seems to be more of a nuisance than a comrade. A good number of teachers I've had in my career as a writing student always seem to advocate against fantasy as a genre and advice that writers go for a deeper and more meaningful storyline.

I have read high fantasy, urban fantasy, teen fantasy, and pretty much every in-between niche that the genre has. As a majority, they have some of the most complex and sympathetic characters around. To name a few: Harry Dresden, Kvothe, Severus Snape, Kylar Stern, Katniss Everdeen... the list goes on. I have related to and been enamored with these characters a lot more than Jay Gatsby, Elizabeth Bennett, and Oliver Twist. Not to demean any of those authors or books, I like them all well enough, I just think the aforementioned pioneers of fantasy novels have much more depth and deserve as much respect as their literary brethren.

 As for fantasy writers relying heavily on plot - that's true. Of course it's true. Fantasy has the burden (and the privilege) of transporting the audience into a new and confusing world. What's the best way to cement this world? Have the characters go on a new and confusing journey so that the rules of the world will be revealed  slowly, not scaring away or confusing the reader. As the characters are occupied with other things like life and death, things like their long forgotten cities and/or their complex, infuriating families are not just thrown in with chapters upon chapters of needless mind-dwelling. The characters instead are revealed through their actions and interactions, which I believe is a much stronger testament to who they are than sitting alone in a darkened room, brooding and contemplating their life. A character can very much do that in fantasy or any other genre, but if it makes up the bulk of their character development, the character loses interest.

As of late, I have been a part of many conversations that label setting as it's own character. It didn't take me long to recognise that I am a firm believer in this, as should be any fan of fiction. And which genre has the most detailed and intricate setting? Fantasy. I mean, come on, Hogwarts and Middle Earth have just as much character development as their title characters. Look at all of the crap they're put through. All the history wraight in their infrastructure. All the blood spilt on their soil.

Even if none of these points reach you, there should be one thing you are absolutely aware and respectful of: The craft of fantasy. All writers go through an outlining stage where they craft the basic plot, characters, conflicts, etc. For a writer working within the rules of the world as we know it today, they can focus more intently on niches and individualities for their stories to possess. Fantasy writers can do this, too - on top of the worldbuilding stage. Worldbuilding is exactly what it sounds like. Hogwarts, Middle Earth, and Westeros all took hours upon hours of rule making, land building, history crafting, and more to come to life. Since they are worlds completely separate from our own, they require their own set of rules. Some rules can overlap, but for the most part the worlds have to be original and concrete. This takes up much, if not most, of the outlining stage of writing. In some ways, worldbuilding never ends. This process is long and draining but the result is nearly always worth it. The authors create a new world readers dream of escaping to and that talent it is taken very much for granted. Not to demean any other genre of literature, for there are countless amazing stories and plots of all genres, but there is no question the amount of work that goes into writing fantasy. This is the main reason why the lack of respect for this genre boggles me.

The fans of fantasy are also not usually looked upon with high regards. From television to books to RPGs, fantasy fans are deemed social outcasts to the point that many feel the need to hide their passions so as not to be ridiculed. I find this ridiculous. As a former D&D (Dungeons and Dragons) player and LARPer (Live Action Role Play), I also continue to feel these pressures. But with the growing popularity of shows like Game of Thrones and games like Skyrim, I feel there is a change coming. At least, I hope so. It is now very common to run into someone reading A Song of Ice and Fire or geeking out with their friends at the newest episode of GOT. Fads in television and books have had both positive and negative connotations throughout the years. When I was growing up, everyone wanted to be a wizard - a la Harry Potter. Now everyone is a closet Harry Potter nerd, it seems, and those who have not seen it or don't like it are the outcasts. A few years later, the Vampire craze hit. That one wasn't as pretty. But now it seems like high fantasy, or really fantasy in general, is becoming the norm. I hope this respect and love for the genre seeps through to more than just the general public and is also felt by critics of literature and the writing community because, as it has been for years, fantasy is not going away anytime soon.

Fantasy has drawn the short end of the stick in many regards but it still remains my favorite genre. True, there are many bad fantasy stories. But there are also many bad literary stories. Just because someone went the extra mile and used their creative energy to create a new world on top of a story with colorful characters and plot to tell does not demean their talent. It extends it.

Everyone loves movies. Some people even love to hate them. But like it or not, they're a huge part of our lives. They are as diverse and emotional and controversial as life itself. And because of this diversity, different movies appeal to different people. Hell, that's pretty much the function of genre itself. Genre distinguishes the main themes of movies and books other art forms as a sort-of psychic paper. It allows people to see what they want to. (That one was for you, my fellow Whovians.)

Some people like Horror. Some people like Drama. Some people like a strange David O'Russell hybrid that can't even begin to be defined. Different people have different tastes in things. It's common sense. It's what makes people unique and interesting. I wrote about this in a post back in February dealing with how people get different things from books. The same goes for movies. And music. And pretty much everything ever. People are different. Get over it.

That being said, I'm going to tell a little tale for a second. It's about me and my brother. We're alike in many ways - we both love music, theatre, performing, and reading. We're also different in many ways. I won't list all those for your sake. The important thing we disagree on is movies (well, important for this post, at least). He's going to school for film, I'm going for writing. It's safe to say we get different things out of different movies. Don't get me wrong - we agree on a lot of things as well. But recently, that hasn't been the case.

Over our winter break away from college, we went to see American Hustle. He loved it. I didn't. I thought it was too long, too dry, and was trying too hard to be something it wasn't: An Oscar-winner. My brother, on the other hand, didn't agree. He thinks David O'Russell can do no wrong. That's all fine and good. I loved Silver Linings Playbook. Whatever. But when I broke the news to him that I didn't like Hustle, he became super defensive and started throwing questions at me like a baseball-shooting machine.

"What?! Why didn't you like it?! It was perfect! Oh my god. How could you - no. No it was amazing. Don't even."

I listed off my reasons, not trying to change his opinion or anything, just stating what I thought. He stuck out his hand in a very preteen manner, giving me a look, and just couldn't deal. How dare I? Rotten Tomatoes gave it a great rating. That means it's amazing.

Okay, let me press the pause button here.

Rotten Tomatoes is a fairly famous critical site that rates movies on a percent-scale by combining reviews collected by several "reputable" critics (I only put quotes around reputable because Rotten Tomatoes lists them as "top critics." I have no idea how this is determined). Now, I've never been one for critical sites. At all. Ever. I like to watch a movie and form my own opinions without bias before reading what other biased people have to say. My brother practically worships the site. Before he watches any movie, he has to check the rating on Rotten Tomato. It's apparently like the law or something.

It gave Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows a 78%. That's pretty much my main argument there. But, like I said, I'm completely biased. But so is everyone else.

Take, for instance, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. As a fan of the books and being within its age demographic, I feel like my opinion is rather valid on the quality of the film. I'm also quite critical of any book-to-movie adaptation so, if possible, I might be at least somewhat qualified to write a review about the film (which I did, btdubs). I liked the movie. I thought it did rather well for a first go at the very complex and detailed world that Cassandra Clare wrote. It was a bit rocky, not sure of itself. But overall, I think it was good and deserved a second go with a sequel.

This is the score that Rotten Tomato gave it:

(1) The only thing similar to Twilight is the romance. And even then, it's completely different. No emotional abuse here. Well, not really. Most YA fantasy series have romance. It's part of the formula to appeal to the female demographic. Chicks dig romance, man. It's a thing.

(2) This review isn't even about the movie. Keep your opinions of the book to yourself or post them on a book review site. Books and movies are not the same thing. Unfortunatly. (If you want a four-hour Harry Potter movie clap your hands!)

(3) For those of you who don't know, Cassandra Clare is a former fan fiction writer. Harry Potter, more specifically. She then wrote her own fantasy series. Which bares no resemblance to Harry Potter except that it's fantasy. I mean, there are witches and warlocks but the magic is completely different than J.K. Rowling's version. By far. I have no idea why this "Flick Filosopher" called the film out as being a "bad name" to fan fiction when it isn't fan fiction at all. I should know. At least I hope so.

Now, as a counterpoint to these negative reviews, let's take a look at the thing I would recommend paying attention to if you were to check Rotten Tomatoes for a film rec. The audience score.

"What I will say is that I wrote the Hermione/Ron relationship as a form of wish fulfillment. That’s how it was conceived, really. For reasons that have very little to do with literature and far more to do with me clinging to the plot as I first imagined it, Hermione with Ron."

. . . 

"In some ways Hermione and Harry are a better fit,"

Alright guys. It's time to get serious.

I was watching E! News the other day (Don't judge... it's my guilty pleasure) and they were - shocker - talking about celebrities. In particular, Justin Bieber. There was some scandal involving him, I don't remember the details, but the point is that one of the anchors felt the need to say that he is a Bieber supporter - and I don't think he meant his music.

It is no secret that half of the talk about Bieber involves some type of hate, whether it be about his music or his scandalous reputation. I, for one, don't understand any of it.

If you would have asked me a year ago - no, maybe even a month ago - for me to make a list of the five celebrities I hated, I would have done it with no hesitations and probably with accompanying stick figure doodles. But it was E! News and a few online gossip articles that got me thinking about what hate really means. Hate is a strong word. We really take it for granted. We point it at food that tastes funky to us, we use it to describe our feelings towards homework, but most often we associate it with other human beings.

I do believe that there are instances where "hate" can be used to describe your feelings towards someone. But the only instances that involve that are when you have a personal relationship with that person or know them through association with others. They may have done you or someone you care about wrong and that, I believe, is a good reason to use "hate," albeit sparingly. Don't use it if a guy broke up with your best friend - call him a jerkwad or the slew of other creative nicknames that come to mind.

Hate in relation to celebrities is an entirely different case. There is a strong chance that the celebrity you claim to hate is one who you have never spoken to or even seen in person. It is understandable to forget that they are people sometimes. They appear on our televisions and on the glossy covers of tabloids, far away from our mediocre lives. They are entities, they are larger than life, they are rich as hell and we constantly wonder how that is. But they are also people. People with feelings. When you write a blog about how much you can't stand Miley and her obsession with twerking and how much you hate her for getting all this attention, you don't realize that there is a person on the receiving end of that rant. Think of it this way: Would you tell the head cheerleader at your high school that you hate her guts and wish she would die because she was a slut and had everything you secretly wanted? In most cases no, you wouldn't. If you are the person who would do that, congratulations. You're about as mature as a fourteen-year-old.

If you genuinely don't like someone, that's fine. If you don't like an artist's music, that's fine. If you don't agree with some of the things they're doing, that's fine. Everyone is entitled to their opinions. Everyone is entitled to share those opinions. But think before you talk or post about it. Think about if you really hate the person you're talking about or just get a bad vibe from them. Hate is a strong, hurtful word. This can apply when you're talking about someone in your life or someone as far away as Beverly Hills. I can do a whole other post about cyber bullying so I won't talk too much about that - I think you get the gist of that issue.
Moral of the story: Think before you speak. Do unto others as you would do unto yourself. Or your best friend. Or parent. Put a face to person that you're talking about and imagine them reading what you wrote or listening to what you said. Put yourself in their shoes. Does it feel good? Do you enjoy hearing people say they hate you without even knowing you?

As many of you are probably aware, the U.S. Government is officially shut down and has been for just over two weeks. This post is a bit overdue but it's better late than never, right?

I will not spend this post rambling on about why the shutdown is happening because, frankly, I'm still a bit confused and don't feel knowledgeable enough to tell you how it is. So, instead, I'm going to link to a YouTube video down below to fill you in before I continue on. Some of you might be familiar with the Vlogbrothers, I hope...

It seems like I'm giving this blog a theme with all the rants I'm posting about books and movies. I guess they're just all that I feel like talking about. Maybe I'll talk about makeup or boys in the next one.

Moving on...

Today's post is inspired by all the media surrounding the "50 Shades of Grey" movie. Let me just start out by saying that no, I haven't read the books. Nor do I intend to. I do have friends who have read them, however, and they have told me that they're not as bad as they're being portrayed. I considered reading the three-book series just to write an educated post about them but decided against it. Mostly because I'm lazy but also because I also have a pile of other books I have to read, as I've stated before. But I feel that I don't need to have read them in order to say what I intend to say so I'll just get straight to it.

"50 Shades of Grey" is erotica. It's a known fact. It can also be categorized as romance but who are we kidding. Anything with explicitly written sex scenes can be counted as erotica. I've read plenty of books with sex in them and can easily tell the difference between romance and erotica. Simply put: If the book has three or more synonyms for "penis" and "vagina," it's erotica. Also, plot. Plot is very important. If it's intricate enough, sex scenes are put in the backseat and aren't entirely relevant when it comes to the main story line. Hell, you could even skip them. But if they overshadow the plot (hence, the BDSM in "50 Shades") then it's clear that the plot isn't strong enough and cannot be carried without them. Erotica.

Good. Now that we've gotten that settled. Why in the name of all that is holy is this book being made into a movie? I mean, I could see full-on porn being based off of it. But a full-length motion picture? Seriously? This is just doomed to be a disaster. They're going to have to water it down a lot to get an R-rating. And even if they accomplish that, will it even be that good? I've heard snippets of the main plot from friends who have read it and don't think it seems all that interesting. It's main appeal is the sex and its, ahem, interestingly written scenes. Maybe that's why the cast hasn't been announced yet. Maybe the executives who were dumb enough to fund this project have seen some sense.

Having read a few excerpts of the text (Hamster. Enough said.) I could tell that this wasn't the greatest book to begin with. The main reason for its publicity was that it was first written as a "Twilight" fan fiction. Which I have the utmost respect for. Being a former fan fiction writer, I am proud and envious of the success of writers who got their start in fan fiction. It gives me hope. But still, when your story is as poorly written as "50 Shades," I almost take it back. E.L. James's success gives writers false hopes of publishing. She didn't get all of this attention because her book was good. She got it because she was riding the "Twilight" bandwagon in the steamiest and most controversial of ways. Is she setting a good example for future writers? No. She's "inspiring" them to write something controversial to get media attention and let themselves be remembered as that one lady who wrote that sex book. She's a fad and will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. She could have had the potential to be a truly fantastic novelist whose stories (yes, even erotica) would have been remembered because they were good, not because they were bad and falsely revered. Now she's the pinnacle of bad writing done right, which shouldn't prove as any encouragement to those wanting to break into the industry.

And they want to make a movie out of it. That's about as screwed up as the media can get.

/endrant