The last two days have been a whirlwind, of many kinds, some good, some not so good. (Alos, please forgive any spelling errors- the iPad doesn't let me scroll, so I can't check for them.)
First of all, of course, there is the incredible amount of things we've been squeezing into each day. We leave early-ish each morning and never return until dinnertime (partly because we need to make it and partly because, well, I've talked about London's "nightlife.") Sunday we hit up the Tower of London first thing in the morning. I debated whether I wanted to go or not, as I've already been there twice. I went, and it's not like I didn't enjoy it, but I definitely sped through the museum (Allie took advantage of this; she doesn't like museums.) In the afternoon, Allie and I met up with Adrienne for a Harry Potter walk. I love Harry Potter and have since I was in fourth grade, so I really wanted to see the places where they filmed the movies. Unfortunately, the walk wasn't what I had hoped. It was certainly interesting and our tour guide was good, but it was less a HP walk and more a general Londom facts and movie location tour. This would have been fine... If we had signed up for that. Also, we chose the tour we did specifically to see Diagon Alley and he never took us there. Towards the middle of the tour, it started to pour and did so through the rest of the walk as well as on the way home. We were soaked by the time we reached the flat and didn't want to go anywhere. We did, however, rouse ourselves to get some delicious Strada.
Yesterday, we got up pretty early and went to Westminster Abbey. I was really excited to do this, and desperate to, as well, because I didn't want to have been to England twice and not gone into the abbey. I'm so glad we did, because it was really beautiful. There are no pictures allowed inside, but look it up online; it's amazing.
After that, off we went to the Jewel House, which has nothing to do with jewels anymore and was rather boring. Following that were the Churchill War Rooms, which were just as interesting as the last time I went with Megan.
Today was more sightseeing- we went to St. Paul's Cathedral, which was, of course, awesome. It was another place I'd already been but was excited to visit again. We had the misfortune of going at the same time as a huge group of German high school kids. They were very disruptive and disrespectful to those around them, and as we climbed the steep, slippery stone steps to get to the top of the cathedral, they were in front of us. Most of them just refused to move ahead if they didn't feel like it, but one girl had a panic attack (in addition to it being very high, the spaces are also very tight. My shoulders could almost touch both walls.) The winner, though, was the guy immediately in front of us. I didn't realize why he was moving so slowly until my dad called up to him, "Could you wait to use your phone until later?" It turns out that he was Skyping. While walking up perilous steps. With several dozen people behind him. As it turns out, careless stupidity is not reserved for Americans or any one nation. It is a worldwide problem.
When we finished at the cathedral, we had lunch, walked over the Millennium Bridge, and went to the National Theatre for a tour, since that interested my dad. We were too early for a tour, so we passed time at the Imperial War Museum. I was really excited to go back here- I went two years ago, loved it, and fully planned to go back this trip, but never did. Both world wars, in particular, are very important to the British, and so they have a ton of war museums. For some reason, I've always been interested in aspects of WWII, particularly the British home front, and I revisited the same exhibit I saw a few years ago. After seeing it, I now recognize why I wrote a novel about that period and place in history the next year; I recognized a lot of things from the exhibit that I had included, and I noted a few more that might come in handy while editing.
Back we went to the theatre for the tour, which wasn't as good as the one the other week, but still different and interesting.
In other developments, I tried in vain to get an audition for that film, even though I knew it was too late. They start filming tomorrow.
I also noticed that I'm becoming a bit irritable, and I think I just don't want to leave. Now I'm looking at everything and thinking it might be the last time I see it, at least for a few years.
Mom has finally let me start reading the book she brought over for me, Libba Bray's latest book, Beauty Queens. It's amazing so far.
Now I must go begin to pack *grumble*
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
A Bad Essay and A Glimpse into Exams
I mentioned in my last entry that I had to go pick up one of my essays, but I didn't mention what went on when I did so.
First of all, getting to my teacher's office was an adventure in itself. There's been a ton of construction on campus as new buildings are erected and others are simply touched up. I'm not sure which one Arts Two (as it's called, though that makes little sense since it holds mostly history tutors and their classes) is, since whatever they were doing on it began long before I arrived. Anyway, it's finished now and my teacher has just moved into it. The trick was figuring out where the entrance was because, though it is situated next to the main road, you can't get in from there- there's a back way that I had to seek out. By keeping my eye on the building, I managed to find it (so easily, in fact, that I doubted myself.) Of course, finding the office wasn't simple- I only found the right hallway because my teacher had told us in an e-mail which is was, and though he had given us a room number, there weren't any number plates on the doors. The only reason I found his office is because his door was open.
I got there right after another girl and was asked to wait. This was a little alarming- I had thought we were just picking up the papers. We were having conferences?! I shouldn't have been freaked out by this, but I was because though I worked for about a month on this paper (including research reading), and worked hard... deeo down inside, I knew I had probably done it wrong. Because of this, I was pretty nervous when it was my turn to go in.
I was correct- despite my best efforts, I didn't do as well as I would have liked on the essay. Basically, the conference was littered with the word "but"- "Your essay was well-written... but you didn't use enough sources... but you're a great writer... but this is only the beginning of a good essay... but I consider you one of my best students in the class... but I know you can do better than this." I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about what he was saying- he was very nice about it and complimentary of me as a student, saying that he admired the way I dicussed all of the topics in class from all sides of the issue, but I felt terrible that I had done so poorly on the essay, and I could tell that he saw that I felt that way. In passing he asked me what my main course of study was, and when I said drama, he said, "Ohhh, that's why," but that didn't make me feel better. Being a drama student is not a reason for not being able to write an essay, especially since the best essay I've ever written was for the drama program here! I was kind of waiting for him to suggest that I rewrite the essay, and I couldn't decide if that was more humiliating than accepting the grade that I got.
Now before anyone gets too worried- my grade isn't bad. I'm still not happy with it, but I got a high C (the equivalent of an 82% back home), which is a grade most of my English classmates would celebrate over. I just don't like getting Cs, and I think the bigger source of my unhappiness is because I loved this class, and it always sucks to do poorly in a class you love.
In any case, my teacher gave me a lot of notes so I can do better on the exam (which is not an essay. He said it was questions, but then said we have two hours to answer two questions. Seems like an essay to me, but we'll see.)
(Also, when I was getting my replacement i.d. yesterday, I walked past a room and literally pulled myself back for a second look. For anyone who's read the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, we do essay exams the same way:
Except that Queen Mary's exams look even more Harry Potter-esque because they're actually held in this set-up in a giant, red-curtained and dark wood-paneled room called the Great Hall. The only thing missing are the wizarding robes and the giant hour glass.)
(Also also- I had a nightmare last night that was very scary and I was exhausted when I woke up from it, but even as I was running from the scary people, when I ended up walking behind Will and Kate in a dark city that I knew was London but looked like Italy, I stopped to take a picture. That's how I roll even in dreams.)
First of all, getting to my teacher's office was an adventure in itself. There's been a ton of construction on campus as new buildings are erected and others are simply touched up. I'm not sure which one Arts Two (as it's called, though that makes little sense since it holds mostly history tutors and their classes) is, since whatever they were doing on it began long before I arrived. Anyway, it's finished now and my teacher has just moved into it. The trick was figuring out where the entrance was because, though it is situated next to the main road, you can't get in from there- there's a back way that I had to seek out. By keeping my eye on the building, I managed to find it (so easily, in fact, that I doubted myself.) Of course, finding the office wasn't simple- I only found the right hallway because my teacher had told us in an e-mail which is was, and though he had given us a room number, there weren't any number plates on the doors. The only reason I found his office is because his door was open.
I got there right after another girl and was asked to wait. This was a little alarming- I had thought we were just picking up the papers. We were having conferences?! I shouldn't have been freaked out by this, but I was because though I worked for about a month on this paper (including research reading), and worked hard... deeo down inside, I knew I had probably done it wrong. Because of this, I was pretty nervous when it was my turn to go in.
I was correct- despite my best efforts, I didn't do as well as I would have liked on the essay. Basically, the conference was littered with the word "but"- "Your essay was well-written... but you didn't use enough sources... but you're a great writer... but this is only the beginning of a good essay... but I consider you one of my best students in the class... but I know you can do better than this." I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about what he was saying- he was very nice about it and complimentary of me as a student, saying that he admired the way I dicussed all of the topics in class from all sides of the issue, but I felt terrible that I had done so poorly on the essay, and I could tell that he saw that I felt that way. In passing he asked me what my main course of study was, and when I said drama, he said, "Ohhh, that's why," but that didn't make me feel better. Being a drama student is not a reason for not being able to write an essay, especially since the best essay I've ever written was for the drama program here! I was kind of waiting for him to suggest that I rewrite the essay, and I couldn't decide if that was more humiliating than accepting the grade that I got.
Now before anyone gets too worried- my grade isn't bad. I'm still not happy with it, but I got a high C (the equivalent of an 82% back home), which is a grade most of my English classmates would celebrate over. I just don't like getting Cs, and I think the bigger source of my unhappiness is because I loved this class, and it always sucks to do poorly in a class you love.
In any case, my teacher gave me a lot of notes so I can do better on the exam (which is not an essay. He said it was questions, but then said we have two hours to answer two questions. Seems like an essay to me, but we'll see.)
(Also, when I was getting my replacement i.d. yesterday, I walked past a room and literally pulled myself back for a second look. For anyone who's read the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, we do essay exams the same way:
Except that Queen Mary's exams look even more Harry Potter-esque because they're actually held in this set-up in a giant, red-curtained and dark wood-paneled room called the Great Hall. The only thing missing are the wizarding robes and the giant hour glass.)
(Also also- I had a nightmare last night that was very scary and I was exhausted when I woke up from it, but even as I was running from the scary people, when I ended up walking behind Will and Kate in a dark city that I knew was London but looked like Italy, I stopped to take a picture. That's how I roll even in dreams.)
In Which I Get Sappy About a Book and London, As is My Way
I got a package from Amazon today! While I buy lots and lots of books, I rarely buy them online, so getting a book or play in the mail is always very exciting to me. Actually, getting mail in general is exciting, but especially when it's a book.
The book in question was The Last Little Blue Envelope by Maureen Johnson (she just keeps showing up in this blog, doesn't she?) I made myself finish the few things I had to do today- turning in one essay, picking up another- before settling down with it. I read about a hundred pages of it, then stopped to go grocery shopping. After I came back and put my food away, I sat down and read the last hundred and eighty pages. It's a really good book, though not exactly what I was expecting (in both wonderful and I-disapprove-of-this-kissing-after-you've-known-him-for-two-days ways.) And as usual, Maureen Johnson managed to write a book that had me laughing out loud most of the time but crying at the end.
The interesting thing about this book and its predecessor, 13 Little Blue Envelopes (and why I'm writing about them on this blog) is that the meaning of them is very different to me now that I've been living in England. In 13LBE, the main character, Ginny, gets thirteen letters (in blue envelopes) from her aunt, who has recently died. They lead her first to London, and then around the globe as she follows their instructions and has incredible experiences. It's the first book of Johnson's that I ever read, and I loved it because of all of the traveling and that Ginny was very much like me. Also, I was dying to go to England; I hadn't yet been, though I would go about eight months after reading 13LBE.
My first trip to London didn't change the book much for me, because a week in London is not living there. But in anticipation of the sequel coming out, I reread 13LBE, and it was almost a completely different book to me, reading it in March after living in England for almost three months. When Ginny mentioned that all of the tube adverts seemed to be an inside joke, I knew what she meant. I recognized the names of things: Barclay's Bank (they're all over London), the Northern Line (I take it all the time), Angel tube station (it's right by where my hotel was, as well as a few theatres I've gone to.) The fact that bathrooms are carpeted. Calling your university a "uni." How much of a staple Ribena (which is a juice) is. How pubs are everywhere and how casually everyone drinks at any time of day.
I identified more with things I could only imagine, not having lived in London before: hearing your own broad American accent as compared to an English one. All the cultural diversity that I didn't encounter in my hometown or at my regular college. And thankfully, there were also things I haven't encountered- weird showers, scary hostels, and foxes- however friendly- prowling the garbage at night (though I think I did see one from a distance this week, late one night on campus.)
Ginny also travels to Italy, and now that I've been there, I know what it's like to know you look like a tourist. Something I never mentioned about my visit there was just how much Adrienne and I were openly stared at, no matter what we were doing. It was rather unnerving. She goes to Paris, too, where I learned, as Ginny does, that people really do carry baguettes, and the streets really are "asparagus thin."
It was just amazing, reading the books, how much I recognized by name: Pont Neuf in Paris. Brick Lane in London, famous for its Indian food. St. Pancras, where the Eurostar arrives and departs in London. Harrods, with its ridiculous merchandise (Helicoptors. Chanel. Puppies. Helicoptors and Chanel for the puppies... and I'm only kind of kidding.) Charing Cross station. Foyles, a bookstore chain. Ginny and her friends even go to Lille, though they don't stay there for long. Waterloo station, where I disembark often to go to to National Theatre. Victoria Station. Costa Coffee.
And still in the books are things I haven't yet experienced, like Christmas crackers (not food- sort of packages with toys and a paper crown inside.) I've only seen pictures of Paris at Christmas. I've never been to Corfu or Amsterdam or Belgium or Rome. Goals for later in life, I suppose, because I only have a little over a month left here. A month. And maybe that's why cried at the end of the book: Ginny feels the same way about England and London as I do, and so the end pretty much echos my thoughts:
Home. It was a nice thought. She missed her parents, her friends... but the word didn't have quite the same meaning anymore. England was home, too. So much of her was here.
The Question floated back into her mind. It had been lingering in the background, waiting for the right moment to make its presence felt..."Describe a life experience that changed you."
Maybe now she had her answer, and it was one word: England. Sure, that didn't convey a lot of information... but she wasn't going to tell them the truth, that she wanted someone to block her path. She wanted this train to break down, for her flight to be canceled, for immigration to tell her that she wasn't allowed to go. She wanted London itself to rise up and refuse to let her pass out of its boundaries.
This is exactly how I feel, and I don't think that's going to change. I love London, and while I may be leaving soon, I will definitely be back.
The book in question was The Last Little Blue Envelope by Maureen Johnson (she just keeps showing up in this blog, doesn't she?) I made myself finish the few things I had to do today- turning in one essay, picking up another- before settling down with it. I read about a hundred pages of it, then stopped to go grocery shopping. After I came back and put my food away, I sat down and read the last hundred and eighty pages. It's a really good book, though not exactly what I was expecting (in both wonderful and I-disapprove-of-this-kissing-after-you've-known-him-for-two-days ways.) And as usual, Maureen Johnson managed to write a book that had me laughing out loud most of the time but crying at the end.
The interesting thing about this book and its predecessor, 13 Little Blue Envelopes (and why I'm writing about them on this blog) is that the meaning of them is very different to me now that I've been living in England. In 13LBE, the main character, Ginny, gets thirteen letters (in blue envelopes) from her aunt, who has recently died. They lead her first to London, and then around the globe as she follows their instructions and has incredible experiences. It's the first book of Johnson's that I ever read, and I loved it because of all of the traveling and that Ginny was very much like me. Also, I was dying to go to England; I hadn't yet been, though I would go about eight months after reading 13LBE.
My first trip to London didn't change the book much for me, because a week in London is not living there. But in anticipation of the sequel coming out, I reread 13LBE, and it was almost a completely different book to me, reading it in March after living in England for almost three months. When Ginny mentioned that all of the tube adverts seemed to be an inside joke, I knew what she meant. I recognized the names of things: Barclay's Bank (they're all over London), the Northern Line (I take it all the time), Angel tube station (it's right by where my hotel was, as well as a few theatres I've gone to.) The fact that bathrooms are carpeted. Calling your university a "uni." How much of a staple Ribena (which is a juice) is. How pubs are everywhere and how casually everyone drinks at any time of day.
I identified more with things I could only imagine, not having lived in London before: hearing your own broad American accent as compared to an English one. All the cultural diversity that I didn't encounter in my hometown or at my regular college. And thankfully, there were also things I haven't encountered- weird showers, scary hostels, and foxes- however friendly- prowling the garbage at night (though I think I did see one from a distance this week, late one night on campus.)
Ginny also travels to Italy, and now that I've been there, I know what it's like to know you look like a tourist. Something I never mentioned about my visit there was just how much Adrienne and I were openly stared at, no matter what we were doing. It was rather unnerving. She goes to Paris, too, where I learned, as Ginny does, that people really do carry baguettes, and the streets really are "asparagus thin."
It was just amazing, reading the books, how much I recognized by name: Pont Neuf in Paris. Brick Lane in London, famous for its Indian food. St. Pancras, where the Eurostar arrives and departs in London. Harrods, with its ridiculous merchandise (Helicoptors. Chanel. Puppies. Helicoptors and Chanel for the puppies... and I'm only kind of kidding.) Charing Cross station. Foyles, a bookstore chain. Ginny and her friends even go to Lille, though they don't stay there for long. Waterloo station, where I disembark often to go to to National Theatre. Victoria Station. Costa Coffee.
And still in the books are things I haven't yet experienced, like Christmas crackers (not food- sort of packages with toys and a paper crown inside.) I've only seen pictures of Paris at Christmas. I've never been to Corfu or Amsterdam or Belgium or Rome. Goals for later in life, I suppose, because I only have a little over a month left here. A month. And maybe that's why cried at the end of the book: Ginny feels the same way about England and London as I do, and so the end pretty much echos my thoughts:
Home. It was a nice thought. She missed her parents, her friends... but the word didn't have quite the same meaning anymore. England was home, too. So much of her was here.
The Question floated back into her mind. It had been lingering in the background, waiting for the right moment to make its presence felt..."Describe a life experience that changed you."
Maybe now she had her answer, and it was one word: England. Sure, that didn't convey a lot of information... but she wasn't going to tell them the truth, that she wanted someone to block her path. She wanted this train to break down, for her flight to be canceled, for immigration to tell her that she wasn't allowed to go. She wanted London itself to rise up and refuse to let her pass out of its boundaries.
This is exactly how I feel, and I don't think that's going to change. I love London, and while I may be leaving soon, I will definitely be back.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Bath, Lacock, and Stonehenge
(First of all, don't miss yesterday's post below this!)
Today was quite cool, except when I woke up to Katie asking, "Do you remember talking to me in the middle of the night last night?" It's so embarrassing to be sleep-talker, especially when you haven't even known the person for a day.
Anyway, after a delicious breakfast, we hopped into the van and were off by 8:30, heading for Bath. I haven't mentioned that the vehicle we took held the whole tour of sixteen people. That was a good number because it's much less people a) to walk around with and b) to wait for when you need to leave.
As you know, I've already been to Bath- I visited with Megan when she came to visit. The big part of this visit, just like mine and Megan's, was to see the Roman baths. While I know that they're impressive and historical... I'd already seen them and I was pretty sure they hadn't changed. However, I didn't want to waste my entry into them, so I spent about fifteen to twenty minutes listening to all of Bill Bryson's (who is an author I like- he's American but lives in England and is very famous here) commentary, and then got out of there. My goal being in Bath this time was to go to the Jane Austen Centre, which I did.
Today was quite cool, except when I woke up to Katie asking, "Do you remember talking to me in the middle of the night last night?" It's so embarrassing to be sleep-talker, especially when you haven't even known the person for a day.
Anyway, after a delicious breakfast, we hopped into the van and were off by 8:30, heading for Bath. I haven't mentioned that the vehicle we took held the whole tour of sixteen people. That was a good number because it's much less people a) to walk around with and b) to wait for when you need to leave.
As you know, I've already been to Bath- I visited with Megan when she came to visit. The big part of this visit, just like mine and Megan's, was to see the Roman baths. While I know that they're impressive and historical... I'd already seen them and I was pretty sure they hadn't changed. However, I didn't want to waste my entry into them, so I spent about fifteen to twenty minutes listening to all of Bill Bryson's (who is an author I like- he's American but lives in England and is very famous here) commentary, and then got out of there. My goal being in Bath this time was to go to the Jane Austen Centre, which I did.
Me in front of the Regent's Crescent
I'm going to be honest- I've never finished an Austen novel. Not for lack of interest, I just... haven't (well, there may have been some lack of interest in Emma. I can't even get through the movie version.) However, I do like the stories, and I was in luck- this year is the 200th anniversary of my favorite Austen story, Sense and Sensibility! I was a little disappointed with it, to be honest. I didn't mind that it was small, but I didn't really learn anything I didn't already know. It was cool to see the call sheets and parts of the script from the filming of Persuasion (2007) and a hand-written letter from Emma Thompson (she's so wonderful), but I just wasn't incredibly impressed with the centre at all.
A new portrait of Jane Austen based on what her friends and family wrote about her appearance.
Emma Thompson's letter!
Most disappointing was the gift shop. I figured I could pick up some cool Jane Austen stuff as well as some S&S peraphernalia... but there wasn't really any. They're really into Pride and Prejudice there, and while I like that, my love for S&S is much, much greater. I thought perhaps I could get a book about the making of one of the movies, but they only had one, and I already have it at home. I ended getting a cool book about Austen heroines and a magnet with all of the books on it.
I walked down to the house where Jane, her mother, and her sister lived for a few months after her father died (it's now a dentist. Way to fail, Bath.) I also managed to snap a picture of her more long-term residence at number 4 Sidney Place.
#4 Sidney Place
Temporary residence/contemporary dentist fail
Off to Lacock (the "La" is pronounced "Lay") we went, which was a small village that was very picturesque, even if that doesn't really show up in pictures well. There's not a terrible lot to say about Lacock, but it was pretty.
After that was our last stop, Stonehenge. I've already been here, too, but the conditions were so much different than last time. You'll remember that my last visit involved rain, freezing temperatures, and all-around greyness. Today was bright, hot, and sunny, so my pictures are pretty different!
Must go pack for France tomorrow! I'm not bringing my computer, as I've said, so I probably won't update until I get back.
(Oh, and I also started and finished another Maggie O'Farrell book on the trip. She's a great author. Read her.)
(Also, I may have said this already, but I am SO glad that I'm not going to be in London for the next few days. The wedding- and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about because even if you're less interested in it than I am, you can only be unaware of it if you live under a rock- isn't until Thursday but London is slowly being taken over by tourists. Tourists who are under the impression that they were invited to this event. Tourists who don't know how to use the tube. Or navigate the city. Or walk in general. As I am no longer a tourist, this is annoying to me. I do not wish to be around as their numbers swell. I plan on barricading myself in my room on the 28th.)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Girl on the Tube With Roses
These are the lovely roses I found waiting on my chair today when I got to the theatre. They were given to me by Tracy, the stage manager/light and sound op for the show. It was pretty fun riding home on the tube and seeing people glance at the roses, wondering where I got them. I was also given a really nice card from the other actress in the show. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I can't believe how welcoming they've all been to a girl who popped up the day before they opened.
The reason I got these things was because tonight was closing night of the show. Sad :( But we ended with a bang- it was a great crowd tonight! Afterwards, I went with everyone to the pub next door, where the director insisted that he "owed me a drink." However, since I don't drink alcohol and I've given up soda for Lent he ended up getting me orange juice. That's how we non-drinkin' girls do it! :p I didn't stay for long- everyone was spread out talking to family and friends who had come to see the show and I didn't know any of them. But I'm truly grateful for this experience.
Earlier today, I went to the Evolving Language exhibit at the British Library, which was mostly awesome. the drawback was that there were so many people. The drawback that stems from that one is that they were all super-slow readers, which meant that it took forever to get through the displsays and I got so frustrated that I ended up skipping around. I did see most of it though, and it was really interesting. Because of my linguistics class, I actually knew a lot of the history already, but it was a tad different because it was told in the British point of view. They were casting a lot of words high on the wall all around the room, and some of these words were the foreign equivalent of British words... but since I don't know all of them, it wasn't always a translation for me.
There were some pretty cool things on display there- there's a letter from Jane Austen to her sister, as well as part of her hand-written manuscript of Persuasion, which held an alternate ending! There was also an original (printed) copy of Pygmalion with George Bernard Shaw's personal dialect notes in it! I geeked out over that a little bit.
The library's store was also a dangerous place for me to go- besides having souvenirs from the exhibit (I got a mini-poster and a few postcards), they also had a permanent book shop. I saw a ton of books I wanted to get, but held myself off and only bought some more postcards (only one of which I plan to send. All of the others are already on my wall.)
Speaking of books, on the tube ride home tonight, I finished The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox. What a stunning, wonderful book. It's the best book I've read in awhile, one of those that you devour fast but wish you didn't because that means it has to end. I was so into it that I missed a lot of my history lecture yesterday because I was thinking about it and I seriously considered taking it out while waiting for the snail readers to finish up at the exhibit. It's just an amazing book and I am definitely buying it as soon as I can.
(Side note: I picked up the book because the cover looked interesting. Guess what it's about? A girl in the 40s who gets put into an asylum [and how it affects her family, immediately and generations later.] The author used the same source material I used for my essay, as well as other studies I've done in my history class. Either I was oblivious to how present this issue was or it's suddenly getting more popular, because now it's EVERYWHERE. And I'm glad- I've now been studying the subject, both independently and at school, for over a year now, and it's nice to see something I'm passionate about in other sources. It also made me smile because when the main character, Esme, finds out where her parents are sending her, she says the exact same thing that the main character in my play does when she gets the same news.)
Script Frenzy update: I'm a teensy bit ahead, though a lot of those pages were just edited today and not written. Tomorrow I start the real writing, as I've edited everything I had before. I'm really scared of this project and I don't know why. It's probably best that I'm going to a write-in tomorrow; no excuses!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
