Monday, March 24, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
Review: Divergent Trilogy
THIS WHOLE SERIES SUCKS!
Okay, okay, maybe I'm being rude, mean, and inconsiderate of the time Veronica Roth put into her debut series. Regardless of the work she put in, which I wholeheartedly believe was mostly thrown away foolishly in her third book, these three books would have seriously benefited from a better editor, a second read through, and, to put it bluntly, a different author.
Why?
They successively got worse, and with each book my hatred of the main protagonist grew. And that's not a goal authors strive for, people.
I actually found myself cheering for Tris' (the main character) boyfriend, Tobias, more than I did her. She's impulsive, self-punishing, eagerly, unnecessarily sacrificial, and just a sobby hormonal angry mess. While she does have her good moments where she's relatable and likeable, specifically in Divergent, those moments grow fewer and more far between with each installation.
When I heard that movies were going to be made about this series, I cringed. Divergent will be a great movie. It's got action, humor, and romance, as well as a dystopian, based-off-a-book setting that's hot in the box office right now. However, Insurgent will not translate well into theaters, and Allegiant will, without a doubt cause many of the people who loved the first movie to throw popcorn at the screen and grumble at all of Tris' poor decisions.
That all said, I don't want to discourage any one from reading Divergent. It is a great book with many twists, turns, and surprises. Despite it's thickness its a relatively quick read that starts off slow; once it picks up, it goes a mile a minute. The end will have you on the edge of your seat, so to speak, and therefore I wouldn't even say no to reading Insurgent. Just be prepared for disappointment after disappointment. The ending of Insurgent seems to promise greatness, give reason as to why you sat through a mediocre book, but trust me.
Allegiant is not worth it. Period. Veronica Roth seriously spat on the world she carefully fabricated for her readers in Divergent and Allegiant and it's beyond disappointing. Even her writing is sub-par throughout the series, but while it is passable in the first two books because of decent plot and characterization, it is unacceptable by the third.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Finish This Story (Part 1)
The pressure of the ocean's depth stopped the propellers of our submarine and we floated, coerced by the gently forceful breaths of the deep blue. The further down we got, the more constant the warnings became, and a fear settled inside of me.
What if we never get out?
All eyes shifted to Emory, our captain, as he contemplated our next move. Waiting for the movements of the water to push us upward, which was his original plan, wasn't proving its promise. We glanced at each other with shifty eyes as we sank deeper, deeper, and light became lesser, lesser. Soon, the submarine's emergency lights flickered on, along with the limited oxygen supplier.
"Emory," Uriah said, fear strangling his voice. "I think we need to expedite this decision making process."
Emory's fingers unraveled from the steering wheel, one by one, until finally, with a breath he seemed to be holding for ages, he tilted toward us. "We've run out of gas," he said gravely. "I was hoping upon hope that, perhaps, we'd manage to float back up, but, alas..."
His eyes took on a faded, overcast gray film, and the air, already dripping away by the second, dropped. My three other crew mates exploded in a frenzy that brought the air back, heat a paradox against the frigid depths of the ocean we were being swallowed into. I, however, remained calm.
I stood up and parted the arguments being spat back and forth between Emory, Uriah, Emilie and Xander slurring curses at our leader, who kept us in the dark. I made my way to the small storage closet, mind set on finding what may potentially save us all.
My hand hooked onto the latch, and with a hiss, the door slid open.
The diving suits.
"I wonder," I murmured to myself, sifting through the racks of full body suits in search for the oxygen tanks and masks. Tucked in the back corner, there were more than enough to for each of us to have one, but my concern was mainly on how much oxygen we would have to use.
A safe swim to the top from this depth is already unlikely, but maybe, maybe, if we had enough time spared to us and the deep's most menacing creatures steered clear, we could do it.
We could get out.
"Captain," I called, pulling out one of the suits, "There's hope."
"Emory," Uriah said, fear strangling his voice. "I think we need to expedite this decision making process."
Emory's fingers unraveled from the steering wheel, one by one, until finally, with a breath he seemed to be holding for ages, he tilted toward us. "We've run out of gas," he said gravely. "I was hoping upon hope that, perhaps, we'd manage to float back up, but, alas..."
His eyes took on a faded, overcast gray film, and the air, already dripping away by the second, dropped. My three other crew mates exploded in a frenzy that brought the air back, heat a paradox against the frigid depths of the ocean we were being swallowed into. I, however, remained calm.
I stood up and parted the arguments being spat back and forth between Emory, Uriah, Emilie and Xander slurring curses at our leader, who kept us in the dark. I made my way to the small storage closet, mind set on finding what may potentially save us all.
My hand hooked onto the latch, and with a hiss, the door slid open.
The diving suits.
"I wonder," I murmured to myself, sifting through the racks of full body suits in search for the oxygen tanks and masks. Tucked in the back corner, there were more than enough to for each of us to have one, but my concern was mainly on how much oxygen we would have to use.
A safe swim to the top from this depth is already unlikely, but maybe, maybe, if we had enough time spared to us and the deep's most menacing creatures steered clear, we could do it.
We could get out.
"Captain," I called, pulling out one of the suits, "There's hope."
Alphabet Story
"Anna!"
Before I got to the top of this tree, I thought it was a good idea to climb it to its peak. Carelessly, I didn't think to bring anyone with me who could catch me if I fell, or got scared, or stuck, or anything similar to the predicament I'm in now. Diana is my only hope for a savior.
Each dumb idea I have seems to compile itself onto the other in a giant pile of suckfest.
Fear envelopes me when another breeze rips through the tree, shaking the leaves, and making the branch I'm holding onto for dear life quiver.
"Good God," helplessly, I whisper.
I look back down to the ground which seems to zoom further away from me with every second. Jesus Christ!
Keep your head up, Anna, don't look down. Looking down is a bad, bad, bad idea.
Maybe I should just make a living here, stuck on this branch. Newts do it. Of course, I could become a mutant newt human and magically become able to slither down the trunk of this tree. People may laugh at my slithery skin and webbed fingers once I get down, but...
Quit being dumb, Anna, I tell myself. Really, that idea is just another I can add onto the top of my suckfest pile.
Suddenly, a new sense of determination surges into me. Taking a huge breath and bracing myself, I slowly unhinge each of my fingers and sit up straight, my legs straddling my branch of life and death.
Underneath me, I see Diana running back and forth from her house, gathering pillows, blankets, and other soft things that I can land on.
Very carefully, I maneuver myself so that I am aimed for the blankets.
Whimpers escape my mouth at just the thought of missing, and fear comes back.
Xylophones are played from across the street by the Miller kids, and to me, it sounds like the Jeopardy tone, taunting me as I take too much time. You never know how close you are to death when it's this close to happening.
Zomg, I fell.
Before I got to the top of this tree, I thought it was a good idea to climb it to its peak. Carelessly, I didn't think to bring anyone with me who could catch me if I fell, or got scared, or stuck, or anything similar to the predicament I'm in now. Diana is my only hope for a savior.
Each dumb idea I have seems to compile itself onto the other in a giant pile of suckfest.
Fear envelopes me when another breeze rips through the tree, shaking the leaves, and making the branch I'm holding onto for dear life quiver.
"Good God," helplessly, I whisper.
I look back down to the ground which seems to zoom further away from me with every second. Jesus Christ!
Keep your head up, Anna, don't look down. Looking down is a bad, bad, bad idea.
Maybe I should just make a living here, stuck on this branch. Newts do it. Of course, I could become a mutant newt human and magically become able to slither down the trunk of this tree. People may laugh at my slithery skin and webbed fingers once I get down, but...
Quit being dumb, Anna, I tell myself. Really, that idea is just another I can add onto the top of my suckfest pile.
Suddenly, a new sense of determination surges into me. Taking a huge breath and bracing myself, I slowly unhinge each of my fingers and sit up straight, my legs straddling my branch of life and death.
Underneath me, I see Diana running back and forth from her house, gathering pillows, blankets, and other soft things that I can land on.
Very carefully, I maneuver myself so that I am aimed for the blankets.
Whimpers escape my mouth at just the thought of missing, and fear comes back.
Xylophones are played from across the street by the Miller kids, and to me, it sounds like the Jeopardy tone, taunting me as I take too much time. You never know how close you are to death when it's this close to happening.
Zomg, I fell.
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