Goosebumps

I could write an unlimited number of open letters to the boy in my Mythology class.  It seems like every little thing that he does annoys me (and not only me; when he raises his hand, there are mutterings from around the classroom).  You don’t have to say, “I have a little bit of a question about…” when you raise your hand.  It is assumed that you have a question if the teacher says, “Any questions?” and you raise your hand.

Anyways, I’m about 20 pages from finishing “We Need to Talk About Kevin” and with every page I turn, I get goosebumps.  Each sentence has the ability to completely shock me, but I’m still enjoying it.  I’ve finally gotten to the point in the story where the school massacre happens.  Before, it was only alluded to; Thursday.  Everything leading up to this gives a good foundation to the wrong-ness that Eva (the mother) feels when she thinks about Kevin.  Even when he was a baby, she knew that there was something wrong with him; not only because she couldn’t bond to him, but because he seemed to play her emotions.  By the time he is 14, she can give examples about everything that is not normal.

I can’t promise a review, because I’m not very good at them, but I will say that it took time (and willingness) to read a book like this.  It’s no wonder it made the list (although I’ve said many different times by now).

I would recommend this book to everyone reading this, sure or unsure about children.  It has a haunting beauty about it; written perfectly to extract every bit of the reader’s emotions.  It may not be your cup of tea, but it definitely deserves your attention.  You’ll thank me when you finish it, because I’ve read a bunch of books, and none compare to this one.

A perfect amount of time to read the rest of the series.

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Unsure

January 11th, 2011 was a big day for my friends back home; Brandon and his girlfriend Shelby had their first baby.  He was a month early, but is healthy.  His name is Brayden Lee and I can’t wait to meet him.

Along with seeing this brand new baby and the love that Shelby has for him, I can’t help but feel envious.  I’m proud of her for having him (because she’s still finishing high school), and for surviving the difficult birth process, but every time I see a picture of him, or read a text from her about the baby, I get jealous.  But I can’t even describe the feeling as jealous; it’s more than jealousy.  It’s like this feeling that she’s so much better/happier.  She has every right to be happy because she just had this miracle happen, but I still can’t get over how young and immature I feel for not having a baby.

Now, enter “We Need to Talk About Kevin” into this picture.  I’m only 116 pages in (out of 400), but already this book is living up to its place on the list of “The 10 Most Disturbing Books of All Time“.  I can separate fact from fiction, and this books isn’t even based on a true story, but it’s pulling me in.  At points, I want to cry.  Other times, I want to punch the wall because it makes me angry.  And then other times, I feel numb, cold; like I’ll never be able to feel emotions again.

Already I can say that I would not recommend this book to anyone unsure about having children.  I, someone who has wanted kids from the moment I knew they existed, am suddenly unsure that babies are right for me.  I keep picturing them like the character in the book does;

Ever notice how many films portray pregnancy as an infestation, as colonization by stealth?  Rosemary’s Baby was just the beginning.  In Alien, a foul extraterrestrial claws its way out of John Hurt’s belly.  In Mimic, a woman gives birth to a two-foot maggot.  Later, the X-Files turn bug-eyes aliens bursting gorily from human midsections into a running theme.  In horror and sci-fi, the host is consumed or rent, reduced to a husk or residue so that some nightmare creature may survive its shell.

And I’m completely freaked out.  I’ve seen movies about monsters that are born from regular pregnant women with no symptoms.  How do I know that I won’t be a host for a monster as well?  Not so much monster as in a maggot with claws, but a monster as in a baby that will grow into a serial killer, or a cannibal or something equally terrifying.  How could I cope with the knowledge that something I nourished, protected and then expelled from my body would grow up only to take the lives of others?

I’m sorry if talk like this freaks you out, but this is the only thing sticking to the inside of my head right now; images of a terrible fetus who is killing me slowly, but not so fast that I, the one who will nurse it, give it immunities and such, will be dead before it’s big enough to do awful things to other people.

This book definitely belongs on that list.

Open Letter

Dear Guy in Mythology Class-

Hello, remember me?  We had to exchange e-mail addresses in the first class, just in case one of us was gone and needed notes.  From the first word you said, I knew that we would not get along.  I can’t say I’m sorry for that, because honestly, you’re not someone I would want to hang out with anyways.

Okay, we get it.  You went to China and Japan to study the languages.  You explained this from the minute the professor asked if anyone did something fun over D-term.  I understand that weather can change from “short/t-shirt weather” to “coat weather”; I’m from Wyoming, I saw it all the time there, and I would have guessed that it happens elsewhere, as well.

I’m not a patient person by nature, and it makes me anxious to be in the same room as you.  Yes or no questions do not need to be explained to death; a simple “yes” or “no” will be sufficient.  I really hope that this term is the only time I’m around you in a class (or in general).

Thank you for making my myth class a chore to go to.

-Cassandra

I got a new book today from the library because I finished “The Valley of Horses”.  While stumbling a few days ago, I came upon a website that was titled, “The 10 Most Disturbing Books of All Time“.  I may or may not be considered strange for admitting this, but the more gory a storyline is, the more it holds me.  All of these books entered my radar, and there were a few that I HAD to read.  “We Need to Talk About Kevin” was one of them.  It’s about a mother who is writing letters to her estranged husband explaining how their son went astray.  “Astray” as in going to school one day and massacring nine people at his school.  Already, the story is pulling at my heartstrings (not so disturbing yet); so hard to read, but even harder to put down.  As of now, I can’t formally recommend it to you, on the basis I haven’t finished it, but I’ve already told Kyle that he has to read it.  It really reminds me of “Nineteen Minutes” by Jodi Picoult (which I would love to read again).

I love Jodi Picoult; she’s probably my favorite author after Jean M. Auel, and I’m super excited to see her coming out with another book in May.  It’s called “Sing You Home” and is super hard to explain.  Like all of her other books, the plot is complicated, and because I’ve read every book of hers, I can say that the ending is probably satisfying, as well.  Just another book to add to my TBR (to be read) list.