The original title for Robyn Schneider's The Beginning of Everything was Severed Heads, Broken Hearts. That's the title I originally saw on Goodreads and the title that initially drew me to this book. Let me tell you, if it had had the abysmal title of The Beginning of Everything from the outset, I wouldn't have even wanted to pick this up. Talk about a bland title. Even my boyfriend, who doesn't read much outside of Stephen King novels, curled his lip at that title when he saw me reading the book.
At first I thought the severed heads thing from the title was just a figure of speech; maybe a metaphor for disconnected, disaffected youth or something. But nope. In the first chapter, the MC recounts the time he and his childhood best friend rode a Disneyland roller coaster and the kid sitting in front of them stood up at an inopportune time and wound up beheaded -- with the MC's best friend holding the head in shock for the duration of the ride.
After reading that first chapter, I was like, "Sign me up, boringly titled book. You've redeemed yourself already."
Unfortunately, it went downhill from there.
The Beginning of Everything is peopled entirely with clichés. The sad, misunderstood male MC. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl he meets and falls head over heels in love with -- BUT SHE HAS A DARK, SECRET PAST. The stereotypically quirky group of "nerds" who belong to the debate club and watch Doctor Who. The Slutty McSlutterson of a cheerleading ex-girlfriend who is villainized for her sexuality. The parents who barely make an appearance. None of these characters ever make it past that initial archetype.
I really can't believe this book. I really can't.
A couple things I can't really articulate enough to write proper paragraphs on:
--The MC, Ezra Faulkner (a very silly name), has a knee injury that shattered his athletic future... but it's never really mentioned as causing him any pain. He walks with a cane most of the time. He cannot play tennis anymore. And yet the most mention we get of how the injury -- which didn't happen very long ago -- affects his day-to-day life is maybe one or two mentions of a dull ache? Maybe one instance where he fancies walking his dog, but can't? I call bullshit. This is the kind of injury that changes your life far beyond not hanging out with your teammate friends anymore.
--The secret, hidden past of the Manic Pixie was WAY TOO EASY to guess. And I am notoriously oblivious and awful at guessing twists. The instant there was a hint of foreshadowing, I was like "Oh, obviously her mom is dead" (not a spoiler, I made that example up). And I was right. Ugh!
--I hate, hate, hate it when bad things happen to animals for no reason. This book gets a thumbs down on that count alone. Also, Ezra's dog. A Standard Poodle, so fairly big. Supposed to be sixteen years old -- which is old for a small dog! -- and still able to run and play fetch? Bullshit. No way.
Aside from the occasional spot of inspired, beautiful prose, this book was dumb.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Review: ARCLIGHT by Josin L. McQuein
I read this book in support of the author. She's a prominent poster on Absolute Write, and her posts often make me think and applaud. It often happens where my main interest in a book is the support of its author, not the story itself.
So that's how I came into this book. Try as I might, I'm not really a sci-fi fan. Except in my love of Star Trek. I've never really been able to develop a sci-fi passion outside of Star Trek. Probably has something to do with my parents taking one-year-old me to a Trekkie convention and meeting Jonathan Frakes (the one childhood memory I wish I could remember).
Josin L. McQuein has another book coming out this year, October's Premeditated, a contemporary revenge thriller that is more up my alley than Arclight was. So earlier this year I bought Arclight hoping it would give me a taste of the awesome to come in that book.
And yeah, Premeditated will be awesome, if Arclight has anything to show for it. Arclight itself? Well... it was awesome, too. In a sense.
This is a very unique book. It isn't your typical YA sci-fi. Hell, it isn't your typical YA. This book has more to say than any other YA sci-fi I've ever read. It isn't just a surface-deep action adventure, although there's plenty of action. This is a book that appears to be one thing, appears to show the world in one light, but the further you read, the more layers are peeled back. This is a book that speaks volumes on war and indoctrination and race relations, and how different groups can be hated -- and murdered -- just for misconceptions and lies spread by their enemies. This book is brave and scary and deep.
But this book is also unclear.
I felt that McQuein's writing could have benefitted from more tell and less show, the opposite of my prescription for most writers. Often, especially in the first half of the book, the reader is left to flounder. It's hard to ground yourself in what's happening because the prose can be so very murky. Rather than tell you that a certain character is another character's brother, four or five hints at a close relationship are dropped within a chapter and it's up to you to gather the facts and figure it out. Sometimes a hundred words are used to show you something that could have been easier summed up by a quick sentence or aside.
The Fade, the creepy-as-hell race of monsters who terrorize the humans who live in the Arclight, are amazing creatures. When we don't know much about them, they're surrounded by this awesome aura of creeptasticness. And when we do learn more about them, when the layers of the story unfold, they're revealed to be an amazingly unique race of people that I'm really impressed with McQuein for imagining. The problem lies between those two states, though. The Fade in the beginning take an awful long time to develop from scary, mysterious monsters into concrete beings that we can see and understand. Point A and Point B are great, but stringing the two together, we get confused and muddled in how we're supposed to be imagining these things.
The main character, Marina, was actually a superbly written protagonist -- blank and dull in the beginning, but there's a reason for this that makes the whole book worth it. I didn't guess the twist in this character at all (but then, I'm notoriously bad for guessing twists, so your mileage may vary here). Other characters were not so well realized, though. Tobin was a complete throw-away of a love interest. Too perfect, too loving, not really well-described enough for me to tell you anything about what he looks like or what his personality is like. And -- this was a real WTF moment for me -- in the beginning he beats a boy almost to death for insulting Marina, and... this is okay with everybody. The boy spends the rest of the book in the hospital with nary another mention, and no one EVER turns on Tobin for this or punishes him in any way. WTF?
So this book does amazingly well on a concept and philosophy level, and the science here is pretty sound, too. Scores on the clarity and characterization, though, are disappointingly low.
Will I read the sequel? Mmm... maybe.
Will I read other books by Josin? Hell yeah.
So that's how I came into this book. Try as I might, I'm not really a sci-fi fan. Except in my love of Star Trek. I've never really been able to develop a sci-fi passion outside of Star Trek. Probably has something to do with my parents taking one-year-old me to a Trekkie convention and meeting Jonathan Frakes (the one childhood memory I wish I could remember).
Josin L. McQuein has another book coming out this year, October's Premeditated, a contemporary revenge thriller that is more up my alley than Arclight was. So earlier this year I bought Arclight hoping it would give me a taste of the awesome to come in that book.
And yeah, Premeditated will be awesome, if Arclight has anything to show for it. Arclight itself? Well... it was awesome, too. In a sense.
This is a very unique book. It isn't your typical YA sci-fi. Hell, it isn't your typical YA. This book has more to say than any other YA sci-fi I've ever read. It isn't just a surface-deep action adventure, although there's plenty of action. This is a book that appears to be one thing, appears to show the world in one light, but the further you read, the more layers are peeled back. This is a book that speaks volumes on war and indoctrination and race relations, and how different groups can be hated -- and murdered -- just for misconceptions and lies spread by their enemies. This book is brave and scary and deep.
But this book is also unclear.
I felt that McQuein's writing could have benefitted from more tell and less show, the opposite of my prescription for most writers. Often, especially in the first half of the book, the reader is left to flounder. It's hard to ground yourself in what's happening because the prose can be so very murky. Rather than tell you that a certain character is another character's brother, four or five hints at a close relationship are dropped within a chapter and it's up to you to gather the facts and figure it out. Sometimes a hundred words are used to show you something that could have been easier summed up by a quick sentence or aside.
The Fade, the creepy-as-hell race of monsters who terrorize the humans who live in the Arclight, are amazing creatures. When we don't know much about them, they're surrounded by this awesome aura of creeptasticness. And when we do learn more about them, when the layers of the story unfold, they're revealed to be an amazingly unique race of people that I'm really impressed with McQuein for imagining. The problem lies between those two states, though. The Fade in the beginning take an awful long time to develop from scary, mysterious monsters into concrete beings that we can see and understand. Point A and Point B are great, but stringing the two together, we get confused and muddled in how we're supposed to be imagining these things.
The main character, Marina, was actually a superbly written protagonist -- blank and dull in the beginning, but there's a reason for this that makes the whole book worth it. I didn't guess the twist in this character at all (but then, I'm notoriously bad for guessing twists, so your mileage may vary here). Other characters were not so well realized, though. Tobin was a complete throw-away of a love interest. Too perfect, too loving, not really well-described enough for me to tell you anything about what he looks like or what his personality is like. And -- this was a real WTF moment for me -- in the beginning he beats a boy almost to death for insulting Marina, and... this is okay with everybody. The boy spends the rest of the book in the hospital with nary another mention, and no one EVER turns on Tobin for this or punishes him in any way. WTF?
So this book does amazingly well on a concept and philosophy level, and the science here is pretty sound, too. Scores on the clarity and characterization, though, are disappointingly low.
Will I read the sequel? Mmm... maybe.
Will I read other books by Josin? Hell yeah.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
I'm baaaack!
Yes, you read that title right: I'm coming back to blogging.
Sort of.
Y'see, blogging tires me out. When I look at other peoples' fabulous blogs, with all those widgets and pictures and pretty things, it makes me tired and sad and like I'll never amount to anything. And trying to keep up with everyone else's super awesome memes and series... forget it. I become a quivering mass of apathy.
But I genuinely do like sharing my opinions occasionally. And I've been a lot better at actually reading books and stuff lately, and wanting to get back into reviewing.
So on this blog I will post reviews. I will post the odd writing-related thing. I will probably blog a bit during NaNoWriMo, which isn't so far away (!!!).
I will not be doing anything that makes me tired or frustrated or confused. I will not be posting pictures (that includes cover pictures of the book I'm reviewing... I hate doing that for some reason), unless I really feel I HAVE to share this picture or I'm just going to die.
So, under this new blog title (Book Rich, House Poor -- because I have a fabulous book collection but almost nothing else to my name, heehee), that's what's gonna happen. Are we excited? I'm excited :)
Sort of.
Y'see, blogging tires me out. When I look at other peoples' fabulous blogs, with all those widgets and pictures and pretty things, it makes me tired and sad and like I'll never amount to anything. And trying to keep up with everyone else's super awesome memes and series... forget it. I become a quivering mass of apathy.
But I genuinely do like sharing my opinions occasionally. And I've been a lot better at actually reading books and stuff lately, and wanting to get back into reviewing.
So on this blog I will post reviews. I will post the odd writing-related thing. I will probably blog a bit during NaNoWriMo, which isn't so far away (!!!).
I will not be doing anything that makes me tired or frustrated or confused. I will not be posting pictures (that includes cover pictures of the book I'm reviewing... I hate doing that for some reason), unless I really feel I HAVE to share this picture or I'm just going to die.
So, under this new blog title (Book Rich, House Poor -- because I have a fabulous book collection but almost nothing else to my name, heehee), that's what's gonna happen. Are we excited? I'm excited :)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
9/11
I'm probably the last person alive qualified to write a blog post about 9/11. I'm Canadian. I was ten years old on September 11th, 2001, on the opposite coast from New York. The attacks had little to no effect on my everyday life, besides the effect they had on the media.
It took a long time for me to fully understand and appreciate what happened that day. The only thing I can contribute to a discussion about 9/11 is a book recommendation.
If you're like me and spent a lot of years feeling disconnected and unaffected by something a lot of people seem to really care about, read Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan. Besides being a good coming-of-age story with a fledgling romance that makes my stomach flutter, it's a truly transcendent, emotionally telepathic novel. Because of this book, I understand why 9/11 is a big deal. Read it.
It took a long time for me to fully understand and appreciate what happened that day. The only thing I can contribute to a discussion about 9/11 is a book recommendation.
If you're like me and spent a lot of years feeling disconnected and unaffected by something a lot of people seem to really care about, read Love is the Higher Law by David Levithan. Besides being a good coming-of-age story with a fledgling romance that makes my stomach flutter, it's a truly transcendent, emotionally telepathic novel. Because of this book, I understand why 9/11 is a big deal. Read it.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Review: The Unnaturalists
I wish The Unnaturalists was as cool, clear, and well-defined as its cover is.
I was so ready to love this book the minute I read the summary. Girl scientist in a steampunk, alternate Victorian London? Soooooo sweet. I was beyond excited when I got an ARC in the mail (thanks for the heart attack, Simon & Schuster Canada!), because usually they just send me ARCs of sequels to books I haven't read and then I have to give them away.
I was still set to love it when I read the first, breathtaking sentence: "The Sphinx stares at me from her plinth." Right on the first page, Vespa Nix is in the Museum of Unnatural History, being cornered by a freaking Sphinx. You soon find out that the Sphinx is frozen in a time-warp forcefield thing and of no real danger, which is an epic mind trip. God, the first page is so cool.
But after that -- very soon after, on like the second page -- the book becomes muddled. Vespa is pushed (by a mysterious, anonymous hand) into the forcefield and she's trapped in a forcefield-like room thing where the Sphinx is ALIVE and ABLE TO HARM HER, and you're all like OH SHIT MAN WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN HOW'S SHE GOING TO ESCAPE?!?!
But... the Sphinx just kinda looks at her. And stuff. It seems like the author is going for a super-tense, omg-is-she-about-to-spring-and-attack? kind of moment, but it drags on for, like, a couple pages of description of the moment so it ceases to be tense anymore because you're pretty sure the Sphinx is still frozen, in the author's own description freeze-frame, so she can't possibly hurt Vespa anyway.
And oh, Vespa. Vespa Nix. What an awesome name. And she's a POC (maybe mixed race?) girl in the book AND on the cover, whoot! But unfortunately, not even that -- and not even her killer dress -- can save her for me. She sounds like a Valley Girl, and in a Victorian (or pseudo-Victorian) setting, it's just so, so distracting. Also, for all that they try to make her this passionate scientist, she spends all of two minutes studying science in this book. She talks on and on about how much she wants to be the first female scientist in her world, but she never even talks or thinks about her so-called passion. She's too busy fawning over her brand-new, shiny Love Interest, Pedant Lumin/Hal/Bayne/The Architect.
I hate the love interest, by the way. He honestly had four names, and he's called each of them quite a lot of times. Who is this guy?!?! He's a scientist at the museum. No, he's a secret agent for the Architects. No, he's a lord's son. He had a major identity issue; I couldn't identify him, much less swoon over him, because I never got a clear picture of him.
I should probably mention the POV of this book. Half of it is in Vespa's first-person POV. The other half is third person POV following a young (how young, though, I wasn't really sure... maybe 12 or 13?) Tinker (think gypsy) named Syrus Reed. The two stories are barely related. The POV characters see each other a handful of times and they're loosely connected in a plot kind of way, but the discrepancy between the POVs is just too big. It felt like two novels stuck roughly together. I would have greatly preferred this book to be entirely in Syrus's third person POV. But that book, if it existed, would fit much better into the middle grade world.
I dunno. This book was just muddled.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
My Bad Writing: Betrayal by Family, Part 3
When we has left Ea and Emmith, they were... hugging! Pass my smelling salts!
What happen next is more idiot romance:
Evening found the two of them in the small town of Kingston. Ea had enough gold coins to get a room at a little inn on the outskirts of town. They had a pleasant meal of bread, potato, and some cheese. There was only one small bed in the room, and Emmith said that since Ea had paid for the room, she should have the bed. But Ea said that since Emmith had rescued her, he should have the bed.
Oh, just freaking sleep together already.
They could not settle the matter, so they shared the bed. It was moderately comfortable, and they were tightly squeezed to the sides, as it felt odd to be so close to each other. Ea fell asleep first that night, and Emmith, before he fell asleep, kissed Ea every so lightly on the forehead.
Meh, I got my wish.
But I hate this. Hate with a passion. It's that stupid old trope of chaste bedsleeping between characters who are obviously attracted to each other. Ridiculously lame.
Speaking of ridiculously lame... after buying Ea "commoner dresses" in the town...
"Emmith, last night you kissed me, didn't you?"
Emmith was suddenly quite embarrassed.
"What? Oh, uh, yes I did," he stuttered. "Why do you ask?"
Ea smiled. "You could have just told me you liked me, you know. Not that I didn't like it." She looked at him.
Emmith was taken aback. "You -- you enjoyed it?"
Ea cocked her head and grinned. Emmith reached out for her hand and they walked back to the inn hand-in-hand.
Hahahahaha. He takes her hand and they walk hand-in-hand. L-O-fricking-L.
Then some soldiers arrive at the inn, looking for Queen Ea Mara. Ohhhhhh shit! Ea and Emmith escape to the roof while the soldiers search the inn, but not before they overhear the innkeeper telling the soldiers the names of the people staying at the inn and Ea hears him say "Emmith Greene and his wife, Eve."
So when the soldiers are gone, they continue journeying. Emmith is the strong, silent type.
They had been traveling for about an hour along a dusty road. Ea was practically crying. Emmith hadn't said a word since before the soldiers arrived at the inn, which was totally out of character for him.
"Emmith, what's wrong? You have been ignoring me! Please, just talk to me!" she cried.
Emmith turned to face her, his brown eyes full of hurt and confusion.
"Didn't you hear the soldiers talking to the innkeeper? They said Queen Ea Mara! Either something terrible happened to your father or he abdicated as king! You are now queen!" He was breathing heavily. "Now it's crucial that we get you to Peterberg Palace." He sat down on a log beside the road. "It was -- well -- I was hoping we could settle down together and forget your heritage."
He was close to tears. Ea sat down beside him and hugged him.
"Me too. I'm not so sure I want to be queen, now. I don't want so many people after me, hating me. I just want to be normal. And with you." She buried her face in his shoulder as he hugged her.
"I know, me too, Ea," he whispered. "Let's keep walking."
I just want to slap the two of them into next week.
The next night, they sleep in a barn. Ea goes into Emmith's backpack while he's out searching for food, because she's really good at personal boundaries, and finds his journal. Of course he keeps a journal. Of course. She reads the latest entry, which tells us absolutely nothing new. Emmith talks about the soldiers arriving at the inn, and finding out that Ea is queen. Then he sounds like a super conceited bastard as he waxes on and on about how Ea should be with him because he doesn't care about her money, unlike foreign princes or whoever else wants to marry her.
And then we get proof that Ea's head is a hollow gourd full of stale air and bits of lint.
Ea closed the journal in wonder. Did he really feel that way about her? But, then again, why did he write it if he didn't?
HE LOVES YOU. YOU'RE AN IDIOT. AND HE'S AN IDIOT.
AND I WAS AN IDIOT FOR THINKING YOU UP >.<
What happen next is more idiot romance:
Evening found the two of them in the small town of Kingston. Ea had enough gold coins to get a room at a little inn on the outskirts of town. They had a pleasant meal of bread, potato, and some cheese. There was only one small bed in the room, and Emmith said that since Ea had paid for the room, she should have the bed. But Ea said that since Emmith had rescued her, he should have the bed.
Oh, just freaking sleep together already.
They could not settle the matter, so they shared the bed. It was moderately comfortable, and they were tightly squeezed to the sides, as it felt odd to be so close to each other. Ea fell asleep first that night, and Emmith, before he fell asleep, kissed Ea every so lightly on the forehead.
Meh, I got my wish.
But I hate this. Hate with a passion. It's that stupid old trope of chaste bedsleeping between characters who are obviously attracted to each other. Ridiculously lame.
Speaking of ridiculously lame... after buying Ea "commoner dresses" in the town...
"Emmith, last night you kissed me, didn't you?"
Emmith was suddenly quite embarrassed.
"What? Oh, uh, yes I did," he stuttered. "Why do you ask?"
Ea smiled. "You could have just told me you liked me, you know. Not that I didn't like it." She looked at him.
Emmith was taken aback. "You -- you enjoyed it?"
Ea cocked her head and grinned. Emmith reached out for her hand and they walked back to the inn hand-in-hand.
Hahahahaha. He takes her hand and they walk hand-in-hand. L-O-fricking-L.
Then some soldiers arrive at the inn, looking for Queen Ea Mara. Ohhhhhh shit! Ea and Emmith escape to the roof while the soldiers search the inn, but not before they overhear the innkeeper telling the soldiers the names of the people staying at the inn and Ea hears him say "Emmith Greene and his wife, Eve."
So when the soldiers are gone, they continue journeying. Emmith is the strong, silent type.
They had been traveling for about an hour along a dusty road. Ea was practically crying. Emmith hadn't said a word since before the soldiers arrived at the inn, which was totally out of character for him.
"Emmith, what's wrong? You have been ignoring me! Please, just talk to me!" she cried.
Emmith turned to face her, his brown eyes full of hurt and confusion.
"Didn't you hear the soldiers talking to the innkeeper? They said Queen Ea Mara! Either something terrible happened to your father or he abdicated as king! You are now queen!" He was breathing heavily. "Now it's crucial that we get you to Peterberg Palace." He sat down on a log beside the road. "It was -- well -- I was hoping we could settle down together and forget your heritage."
He was close to tears. Ea sat down beside him and hugged him.
"Me too. I'm not so sure I want to be queen, now. I don't want so many people after me, hating me. I just want to be normal. And with you." She buried her face in his shoulder as he hugged her.
"I know, me too, Ea," he whispered. "Let's keep walking."
I just want to slap the two of them into next week.
The next night, they sleep in a barn. Ea goes into Emmith's backpack while he's out searching for food, because she's really good at personal boundaries, and finds his journal. Of course he keeps a journal. Of course. She reads the latest entry, which tells us absolutely nothing new. Emmith talks about the soldiers arriving at the inn, and finding out that Ea is queen. Then he sounds like a super conceited bastard as he waxes on and on about how Ea should be with him because he doesn't care about her money, unlike foreign princes or whoever else wants to marry her.
And then we get proof that Ea's head is a hollow gourd full of stale air and bits of lint.
Ea closed the journal in wonder. Did he really feel that way about her? But, then again, why did he write it if he didn't?
HE LOVES YOU. YOU'RE AN IDIOT. AND HE'S AN IDIOT.
AND I WAS AN IDIOT FOR THINKING YOU UP >.<
Monday, August 6, 2012
My Bad Writing: Betrayal by Family, Part Two
Welcome to Part Two! If you missed it, here's Part One.
When we last left Ea and Emmith, the idiotic heroine and hero of my unfortunate tale, they were running away from Ea's evil Uncle Unriché, who had planned to kill Ea... at some point. He just had dinner with her, alone. Why didn't he kill her then?
Anyway.
The next chapter picks up with this gem of a line:
Next morning, Ea woke to the smell of fish.
...all I want to do is *facepalm*. Serious cringe. Ahhhh, don't look at me, I'm not the same writer as the one who wrote this line!
It only gets better.
"Where am I?" she said sleepily as she looked around her. She was in a small clearing in a forest, and on the other side of the clearing Emmith sat with his back to her, crouched over a campfire.
"Oh, Princess, you're awake. I made some breakfast, if you want it," he said, blushing.
"Thank you, Emmith. And you don't need to call me princess, just Ea is good." She sat up on her bed of leaves and rubbed her eyes. "So, Emmith, where exactly are we?"
Oh god. Braided ropes. Beds of leaves. The silliness continues.
And continues:
Emmith shrugged. "I dunno, exactly, but we're about nine, possibly ten kilometers from your uncle's palace, approximately."
Sigh. Then we get the obligatory "heroine looks intently at hero and realizes he is the smexiest guy evah" paragraph.
Ea looked at him intently. He was a very good-looking boy with nearly shoulder-length curly dark brown hair framing his adorably innocent face and big brown eyes. All Ea's ladies in waiting fancied him, and he was the talk of their sewing sessions. Emmith was a young blacksmith's apprentice and he made swords for the king and his knights.
HA. Will Turner, is that you?!
And then, basically, Ea sees that he brought a sword with him and she asks "What if my uncle sends soldiers after us?" and Emmith basically says "Meh, ain't no thang" and then they eat fish for breakfast. Bleh.
Then we flash back to the palace for the best villain moment I've ever written.
Lord Unriché stood in the great hall sniggering to himself and waiting for his niece to make her appearance.
"Captain," he shouted at a soldier.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Has the princess come down yet?"
"No, not yet, sir."
"Lazy oversleeper. Send her maid to wake her. I'm getting impatient."
"Yes, sir."
Lord Unriché chuckled. He was feeling quite happy that day. His brother and that wife of his captured by soldiers in Stevron, and their only child was to be arrested where she thought she was safe.
"My lord, she's gone!" a young soldier approached Unriché.
"What? What do you mean, she's gone?" he spat.
"Her window was open and the bed is empty! No sign of her!"
"Are you sure? She couldn't have just disappeared! Send men into the grounds to find her! Search everywhere within a mile of here!" he shouted. His good mood was temporarily ruined.
Can't... stop... laughing.
Unriché, it's your fault. You should've just arrested her at one of the million opportunities you had earlier. Quit chuckling and sniggering to yourself and get some kidnapping done.
Okay, then the POV snaps back to Ea and Emmith, who are crouched in some bushes listening to some soldiers who randomly appeared near them. This scene is boring. They overhear a page-long argument about whether to go east or west. It's unremarkable, except for the part where "a voice shouted at a stubborn voice."
And then this happens:
Emmith smiled worriedly at Ea, who was white with fear. Then Emmith did something he had wanted to do ever since he met Ea eight years before. He pulled her close to him in a tight embrace, and to his surprise she didn't resist. She just sank into his arms, and there she stayed for minutes that seemed to be hours.
To my eleven-year-old mind, this was blush-inducing, perfect romance. A hug. Really. I kind of feel like reaching back in time and slapping myself, because to no one else is hugging a distraught person who just heard a bunch of people say that her uncle was going to murder her romantic. It's just a decent thing to do. Also, Emmith is still an idiot. And a Will Turner ripoff. And a Josh Groban wannabe.
I forget if there's a part coming up where he sings, but knowing my eleven-year-old self, I'm sure there must be.
Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for Part Three!
When we last left Ea and Emmith, the idiotic heroine and hero of my unfortunate tale, they were running away from Ea's evil Uncle Unriché, who had planned to kill Ea... at some point. He just had dinner with her, alone. Why didn't he kill her then?
Anyway.
The next chapter picks up with this gem of a line:
Next morning, Ea woke to the smell of fish.
...all I want to do is *facepalm*. Serious cringe. Ahhhh, don't look at me, I'm not the same writer as the one who wrote this line!
It only gets better.
"Where am I?" she said sleepily as she looked around her. She was in a small clearing in a forest, and on the other side of the clearing Emmith sat with his back to her, crouched over a campfire.
"Oh, Princess, you're awake. I made some breakfast, if you want it," he said, blushing.
"Thank you, Emmith. And you don't need to call me princess, just Ea is good." She sat up on her bed of leaves and rubbed her eyes. "So, Emmith, where exactly are we?"
Oh god. Braided ropes. Beds of leaves. The silliness continues.
And continues:
Emmith shrugged. "I dunno, exactly, but we're about nine, possibly ten kilometers from your uncle's palace, approximately."
Sigh. Then we get the obligatory "heroine looks intently at hero and realizes he is the smexiest guy evah" paragraph.
Ea looked at him intently. He was a very good-looking boy with nearly shoulder-length curly dark brown hair framing his adorably innocent face and big brown eyes. All Ea's ladies in waiting fancied him, and he was the talk of their sewing sessions. Emmith was a young blacksmith's apprentice and he made swords for the king and his knights.
HA. Will Turner, is that you?!
And then, basically, Ea sees that he brought a sword with him and she asks "What if my uncle sends soldiers after us?" and Emmith basically says "Meh, ain't no thang" and then they eat fish for breakfast. Bleh.
Then we flash back to the palace for the best villain moment I've ever written.
Lord Unriché stood in the great hall sniggering to himself and waiting for his niece to make her appearance.
"Captain," he shouted at a soldier.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Has the princess come down yet?"
"No, not yet, sir."
"Lazy oversleeper. Send her maid to wake her. I'm getting impatient."
"Yes, sir."
Lord Unriché chuckled. He was feeling quite happy that day. His brother and that wife of his captured by soldiers in Stevron, and their only child was to be arrested where she thought she was safe.
"My lord, she's gone!" a young soldier approached Unriché.
"What? What do you mean, she's gone?" he spat.
"Her window was open and the bed is empty! No sign of her!"
"Are you sure? She couldn't have just disappeared! Send men into the grounds to find her! Search everywhere within a mile of here!" he shouted. His good mood was temporarily ruined.
Can't... stop... laughing.
Unriché, it's your fault. You should've just arrested her at one of the million opportunities you had earlier. Quit chuckling and sniggering to yourself and get some kidnapping done.
Okay, then the POV snaps back to Ea and Emmith, who are crouched in some bushes listening to some soldiers who randomly appeared near them. This scene is boring. They overhear a page-long argument about whether to go east or west. It's unremarkable, except for the part where "a voice shouted at a stubborn voice."
And then this happens:
Emmith smiled worriedly at Ea, who was white with fear. Then Emmith did something he had wanted to do ever since he met Ea eight years before. He pulled her close to him in a tight embrace, and to his surprise she didn't resist. She just sank into his arms, and there she stayed for minutes that seemed to be hours.
To my eleven-year-old mind, this was blush-inducing, perfect romance. A hug. Really. I kind of feel like reaching back in time and slapping myself, because to no one else is hugging a distraught person who just heard a bunch of people say that her uncle was going to murder her romantic. It's just a decent thing to do. Also, Emmith is still an idiot. And a Will Turner ripoff. And a Josh Groban wannabe.
I forget if there's a part coming up where he sings, but knowing my eleven-year-old self, I'm sure there must be.
Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for Part Three!
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