Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Bookish Guilty Pleasures and Other Scandalous Secrets

Since the Lenten season has finally caught up with me (REPENT ALL YE SINNERS) I decided I might as well walk that extra mile and ‘fess up all my naughty bookworm sins.
*minor hyperventilation episode*

Alright, here goes:
(Although most probably, by this time tomorrow I will be regretting this post so bad I might bury myself alive and never type another letter into the blogosphere.)

  1.  I USED TO BE A TWIHARD – up until the second book happened. That is not to say that I’d read Twilight and then waited a year to get New Moon and filled all my days in between fangirling excessively. It means that while I was reading Twilight, I shipped Bella and Edward so very physically, with my head intermittently spinning very ludicrous fantasies involving me kidnapping Edward for myself in his Aston Martin (WHAT A RIOT I CAN’T EVEN DRIVE A BIKE) and then when the second book happened (all the four books had already been published by then so there was no time spent hanging on a cliff) I hurt my head a lot because I was busy head-desk-ing. By the time I’d finished Breaking Dawn, I’d decided I was anti-Twilight and would spent the rest of my life spewing acid on the topic. As it so happens, that is not the confession – I was merely setting the scene. Remember when a partial draft of Midnight Sun leaked on the Internet and we all read it? Well, guess how many times this so-called anti-Twihard read it. No? OK, is SIX a decent number? Or how about how many times I wished the whole book would be published soon? Did you know that INFINITY could be a number?
  2. Following up on #1, I HATED STEPHANIE MEYER. Please note that I was in the ninth grade when I was going through a phase called BOYS ARE SHIT AND ALL THINGS NOT NICE (I dunno why – no guy had ever done anything to me – I used to be a pretty extreme t(w)een). Then I saw the cover of The Host (ON SALE!!!!!!) and read the blurb and bought it and read it and read it and read it and read it … and kept the fact that I might no longer NOT HATE Meyer a secret till I realized I was being a two-faced bitch.
  3. I used to pride myself in the knowledge that I DON’T READ CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE. As people ticked off books they had read, I would mentally scoff at them when I classified them as POOR READING CHOICES or NOT LITERARY ENOUGH. (How much do you already hate me?) Then I discovered The Mediator and Jinx and Airhead by Meg Cabot and attained enlightenment.
  4.  I JUDGE BOOKS, THEIR AUTHORS AND THEIR FANBASE. (I wasn’t trumpeting that point; I’m stripping myself bare. Go on, judge me. I basically asked for it.)
  5. Despite whatever I say and feel about how erotica is basically literary porn – I enjoy a good SPICY SCENE from time to time. (OH GOD.)
  6. Hey, genuine doubt: Do you, at any point of time, while in the process of shipping your ship in your head after a good book or a Tumblr post or – y’know – randomly, (un)consciously replace the hero(ine) with yourself? (please say yes, please say yes)
  7. … Maybe I should stop.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Not A Review: The Crossover - Kwame Alexander

There Are Books

that –
thump you,
choke you,
crack you up. 
Books that
you want to
to that kid
in your building,
Hey, you like basketball, don’t you?

One Day

he’ll come a-knocking,
And you’ll open,
his face like the last page –
Gratitude in his smile
something more in his eyes.
he’ll score that basket.

The Tempo

will leave you,
Don’t worry, love.
You can’t
but feel
the RhyThM
in the


What alchemy
Paint people,
Compose music,
Change lives?

2. (literary)
A mysterious
power or
that can
change things.
Y’know what’s
short and sweet?
This, GOD, THIS.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Like Velcro

There was a sound,

Final, resolute, irreparable,

Like a kiss broken in half.

But velcro doesn’t make that sound, does it?

How then did I hear it –

In the promises unmade,

In the hanging up of the phone,

In the silences between words?

Do strips of velcro feel pain,

When they’re peeled apart?

Why then do I hurt

When I see –

The empty REPLY box,

The ghost of her old smile,

The scrapbook that made us?

Her velcro patch has collected

Dust, dust, more dust.

(She always was careless though.)

Dust like –





(She claims they were souvenirs,

In her quest for happiness.)

I pluck the stubborn,

Remainders from her velcro patch.

(Or try to –

Velcro is as stubborn as the dust.)

Maybe the wind won’t,

Steal our laughter again.

Maybe we won’t,

Talk up a long bill.

And maybe we won’t,

Swap colourful bracelets.

But we won’t grow,

Out of our worn sandals yet.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

A Twitter Story: The Seven Realms - Cinda Williams Chima

It was just after the semester break when I walked into Miss J’s room to catch up on all the fandoms – old and new, when she suddenly jabbed a finger in my face.
Miss J: YOU.
Me: (shocked) Yeah?
Miss J: (pointing to a daunting stack of books) YOU’RE READING THIS.
Me: (snorts after picking up one and reading the blurb) Really? It’s that good?
Miss J: Oh. I’m sorry. It wasn’t a request.

Reader, my life has changed forever since.

Where do I start? The fact that the last time I’d read a series so plotsy, so addictive, and so good was maybe when I read the Percy Jackson Series. Which was four years back. Or the fact that I got a heroine to look up to – someone who managed to be realistic and inspiring and just so very badass. Or the fact that every day till I finished reading the series, I would hit the sack only when my eyes had stopped distinguishing words from one another (which was two am-ish). Or the fact that I was able to extend my Book Boyfriends list to include #10. (Just thinking about Han has my heart beating faster – THIS IS MADDENING UGH) Or the fact that the THE CHARACTERS are annoyingly real – HOW CAN FICTION DO THAT? Cat with her ferocity. Fire Dancer with his understanding. Micah with his love. Amon with all the tortured, repressed feelings (THAT POOR SOUL). Bird with her trust. “Crow” with his Han-ishness. Then -


GOD THOSE TWO. This series isn’t your average love story. The hero and the heroine have like JUST TWO EPISODES together in the first book and it isn’t till Book 3 that Han gets to know that Raisa isn’t just some random blueblood but the FRIGGIN’ QUEEN. Did I mention that at that point he’s a boy with the reputation of being a streetlord and a thief?
So, yeah, considering my Book Boyfriends list, this is the second outlaw I’ve fallen in love with. I am hopelessly incorrigible.

This isn’t a review. Reviews are for telling people (very coherently and objectively) why they should or shouldn’t read a book. This is a post in which I have overindulged in feeeeeeeeeeelings. Very ship-py feelings. Very WHAT-THE-EFFING-HELL-HAPPENS-NEXT feelings.

For a more comprehensible idea of my symptoms, you should check my tweets out. (For those of you who already follow me, I will not ask you to continue reading this post, as such reading material is okay the first time, torturous the second. You might have also noticed the small fact that I changed my surname – not that it matters a lot).


P.S.: Apparently there is going to be a spin-off series (YES!) but Han and Raisa are like 42 (NOOOOO)

P.P.S: There isn't going to be a rating for this one. This is purely a fangirl post, not a reviewer's because:

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