Me: Pleasedon'thitme!
Invy: *immediately takes to hit Pia* *hard* *several times*
Apps: Ouch.. that.. that really gotta... oh my...
Invy: *still hitting* Try somethin' better t' say!
Apps: Yes.. well.. um.. As you may have noticed, the 'I will update every two weeks' didn't really work out.
Me: I'm sorry, okay?!
Invy: NO! *hits*
Apps: Actually, it took her 40 days to update instead of 14. However, she finally decided to write for unknown reasons.
Me: *head between shoulders* Writer's block? *gets hit*
Apps: Scooby Doo is still not hers. While we all try to figure out how you can actually get physical pain by imaginational figures in your head, you just enjoy the story.
-Books-
-Velma-
A book, books generally, is - wow, how to describe it? It's science and yet it's nothing more but sentences, it's wisdom but nothing else than words, it's a whole world and still only letters.
Of course, it all depends on whether you have a good or bad written book, but let's just settle for the case that we have a good book right now, okay?
Don't you just have to love the feeling of going through a library or old book shop? Just the knowledge that you're surrounded by words, words that tell you about adventures, other worlds, people from far away or maybe people like the ones you walk by on the street every day. Or- god, the smell, it's just so wonderful. I am pretty sure that you can already tell a lot about a book by smelling at its cover. Maybe this doesn't work with freshly-printed ones, but that's just why I like libraries so very much - they're filled with used books, that have already shared their stories with only-god-knows how many people.
And if you open up one of these used books, you can smell the feelings. You smell, you feel the excitement, the anger, happi-, sadness all the people endured while readings the very book you are holding in your hand.
I've heard many people saying that their favorite and all the books they think are the best make them laugh and just happy, but that's, to give you my honest opinion, rubbish.
The best books make you laugh and cry.
A laugh is so much easier to bubble up inside of you than tears, it's easier to force and easier to show in publicity. Tears, tears that you cry out of pure sadness or anger are so hard to be brought up just by words and the art someone called a good author should be able to fulfill is to do both. Really good authors twist the words, they mess them up just to order them again, they even speak to them, curse over them, they live with the words and then, maybe it takes a long or maybe a small time, then, they have created something that brings up the feeling that you don't live with words in front of you anymore, no, then you live the words.
There is no direct description of such authors, they don't look or behave in a special way. It's not like they have to have black hair or be over-organized, nor overly messy, with strewn clothes and books all about their place. They are not short, nor are they small, they just are there. Maybe they live in some overly other world and are really lightheaded, and then again, they could be keeping a cool head in every situation of their life. I don't think there is any way to tell that a person is a good writer, it's not like every person with ink blots are writer or that they always carry a pen around.
The point is, that, while you can't tell of a person that he or she is a decent writer (or reader, for that matter), I think you can very well tell from your typical library book if it's a good writing and read.
Just search for the warm feeling of laughter and the salty smell of tears.
Me: Think I went into a bit of a frenzy over there... suggested by draco122. The story, that is. Not the frenzy.
Invy: *grumbles*
Me: I said I was sorry, okay?! We all make mistakes and I am me, I am the writer that is overly messy with strewn clothes and books all about my place, I am short, I am really lightheaded at times and I have the ink blots.
Apps: If you would only keep the clothes in your room...
Me: That wasn't... well, it was my fault, but it was funny. You know, I have this habit of, once I actually manage to take up the courage to sort through the clothes on the sofa in the middle of my room, well, I just throw the clothes for the laundry against the window and wall behind me, so they land on the floor and on Lulu's aquarium (it has a lid, you know). But today, I forgot that my mum had opened said window and accidentally threw two shirts and one pair of shorts out in our garden =D.
Invy: Yep, that was really... well...
Apps: Incredibly stupid?
Invy: 'xactly!
Me: Hey! *frowns*
littlebixuit
(Next story: Ascots - Fred (surprise))