Storyz: When Light Shines in the World---

Run, run, run.

Pant, pant, pant.

Sweat glistened on Lina’s forehead, but she was far too tired to even consider wiping her face. The track stretched out before her, and she stumbled along wearily, forcing her aching legs forward.

Jog, jog, jog.

Almost there---

She rounded the edge and collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, her heart feeling as if it was ready to explode.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” a teasing voice broke through the exhausted fog over Lina’s mind.

She scowled at her cousin, too winded to reply. The cheeky redhead laughed at the black look, looking as if she’d just stepped out of her own private jet instead of just having run the same course as her older relative. “What’s the matter, too much for you?”

“Give it a rest, Beck.” Lina was in no mood to be teased. “How do you stand it? All we do for two hours is run, run, and run! I’m about to die, and it’s only been—” she checked her watch and felt her heart sink, “half an hour.”

“Practice.” Becky stretched one leg out, and Lina watched enviously as she touched her toes easily with both hands. “Ooo, that feels good.” Becky made a satisfied sound before stretching out the other leg. “I was here all last year, remember?”

“And the year before, and the year before that.” A tall blond holding a bottle of water shot Lina a dry look before throwing her head back and gulping the drink. “Becky’s been at this forever. Don’t even try comparing yourself to her.” She wiped her mouth and capped the bottle—then held it out to Lina. “Here, you look like you need this.”

“Thanks.” Lina took the water gratefully and tilted her head back it. As she prepared to waterfall the drink, however, the cramp in her side suddenly intensified, and her arm jerked, spilling the water onto her shirt.

The blond jumped back to keep from getting wet, and Becky laughed. “Now that’s a drink.”

Lina smiled sheepishly, handing the water back to the blond. “Sorry.”

“Keep it. There’s only a little left anyway.” As soon as the words left the girl’s mouth, Becky grabbed the bottle.

“Thanks!” she chirruped, and then poured the remaining liquid onto her head. Shaking herself like a dog, she grinned at Lina’s openmouthed stare.

“Hey, like I said. That’s a real drink.”

“Actually, that’s pathetic.” Tiana Blakes, the track team’s Golden Girl and leader, didn’t sound happy. The tanned girl had muscled legs, incredible stamina, and no patience for anyone who couldn’t keep up with her. “You shouldn’t waste water,” Tiana said pointedly, glaring at Lina.

“Sorry,” Lina repeated, “I cramped and the bottle just—”

“If you’re so beat after just a few laps, McGregor,” Tiana interrupted, “You’re never going to make it for the rest of the season.”

“Aw, give her a break. It’s only her first year.” Becky offered a smile, trying to ease the tension. “Come on, Tiana, it’s been a tough practice.”

“This is a tough team,” Tiana shot back, “And if she’s not up to it, then maybe she shouldn’t be here.”

“Hey, I’m trying, ok?” Lina forced herself to keep her tone even. “Calm down, girl,” she thought grimly, “She’s just a jerk. Don’t let her get to you.”

“Trying isn’t enough,” Tiana was still ranting, her voice getting louder as she continued. “This is serious track, not a game. Even if you don’t know that, Thomas here should.”

Jerking at the sudden attack, Becky stared, openmouthed. “Me?” she asked indignantly.

Tiana was unrepentant. “You’re a senior member of the team, and you’ve been here long enough to know that goofing off isn’t tolerated. She might not know any better, but I expect more from you. In fact, give me two laps around the track. Right now.”

Uh oh. Lina recognized Becky’s flushed face, the angry spark in her eye and the set of her chin. Becky May Thomas was known for two things—her quick feet and her even quicker temper. Few came away unscarred after a verbal assault from the pretty girl, and Lina herself had never exited from an argument dry-eyed. Becky opened her mouth, and Lina braced herself for the storm of words that was sure to come—

There was silence. Becky’s face returned to its normal color, and she let out a huge sigh. “Alright. Sorry, Tiana.”

Getting to her feet, she broke into a steady jog, ponytail bobbing as she started on the assigned punishments.

“Whoa.” The blond’s low whistle jerked Lina out of her shock. “I’ve never seen Becky take anything like that lying down before.”

Lina nodded, eyes still fixed on her cousin. “Me neither. I wonder what’s up?” She glanced at Tiana, noting the shocked look on the other girl’s face. Apparently, the captain of the track team hadn’t expected obedience any more than the rest of them had.

“Weird.” Lina watched as Becky rounded the bend and started on the second lap—and then noticed a flash of silver beneath the girl’s bouncing ponytail. As Becky drew nearer, the object became clearer, until Lina could identify the shape clearly.

A necklace, with a small golden cross dangling at its center.

*************

Here’s a quick quiz. I’ll list a couple names, and you figure out who, or what they represent.

Ready?

Ok.

1. Barack Obama

2. Kobe Bryant

3. Gloria Steinem

4. Arnold Schwarzenegger

5. ______ (Insert the name of one of your teachers.)

6. ______ (Insert your name).

Some of these were easy, some were hard.

For example, it was probably pretty easy to figure out that Obama represented the U.S, or that Kobe Bryant represented the Lakers, or that Arnold Schwarzenegger represented California. You probably understood that whichever teacher you thought of represented your school.

If you recognized Gloria Steinmen’s name—way to go! (By the way, she represents feminism, and is one of the most famous feminists today.) That one was pretty tough. However, the toughest question was probably the last one.

What do you represent? Well, for starters, you represent your family. By carrying their last name, you show yourself to be part of the ___ family. You also represent your city, your state, and ultimately your country. And you represent God.

Matthew 5:16 says, “In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

As Christians, we’re called to be the “light of the world.” Light is bright, glowing, and different. Light is noticeable and noticed. Light contrasts against its surroundings.

Most of the time, I feel more like a fog than a light. Smoky, unclear, and camouflaged, I’m more ready to blend in than to stand out. Blending in is easy. It’s comfortable. But it’s not right.

God calls us to be examples to our friends, our peers, and our neighbors. It’s hard, sure, but nothing worthwhile is easy. It takes courage to be different, to stand up for what’s right, to set yourself apart. It takes countless prayers and a lot of help to even attempt breaking away from the norm.

But think about this: We might be the only Bible a non-Christian ever reads. (No, I didn’t come up with this myself, it’s a quote from one of my former teachers.) In our world today, religion is cut down, and God is scoffed at. Entertainment, academics, and achievement are glorified, but matters of the soul? Not so much.

God is there, ready to heal the broken, mend the hurt, and save the lost, but people take one look at us, his Christians, and are instantly turned off. There’s no real difference between us, they think, If there is a God, I don’t think he’ll begrudge me the couple hours I spend sleeping on Sunday morning instead of at church.

Ouch. It hurts—badly—especially since it’s true.

Transitioning from a fog to a light isn’t easy, and downright impossible if you try to do it alone. We’re human, and therefore weak. We’re human, and therefore afraid. We’re human, and therefore we fail.

On the other hand—God, being God, makes up for all that. He promises to fill us with strength, to help us in our weakness, and to guide us in the right paths. Alone, we can’t change, but with his help, we can shine.

Remember, we might be the only Bible some non-Christians ever read. St. Francis once said, “"Preach the gospel always. If necessary, use words." Living our lives as God’s lights might be the best testimony we could ever share—the best proof that Jesus Christ is real and living in our hearts. We might never see the results of our efforts, but the result is definitely there.

Be different—you never know who’s paying attention, or who’s life might change because of it.

Please, let your light shine.

*************

“I never thought I’d see the day when you walked away from a fight, or took an order like that.” Lina brushed out her sweat-soaked hair, watching her cousin’s reaction to her words.

Becky looked up, clear blue eyes meeting Lina’s squarely. “She was right. I was goofing off.”

She got to her feet, wincing, “Besides, those two laps were good for me. I haven’t been so sore in weeks.”

“We were just playing. It’s not like we ditched practice or cut laps,” Lina argued, refusing to stray off topic, “She was being a jerk. Why’d you let her get away with it?”

When Becky didn’t answer, Lina continued, “You’ve never backed down from anything before. Remember when you punched Julia for calling you a—”

Becky winced again, this time from the memory. “Don’t remind me. I still have nightmares.”

“So what changed?” Lina studied her cousin, before focusing on the cross necklace at the base of her throat. Becky followed her gaze and gave a weak smile. “It’s cliché, I know.”

Lina stared in disbelief. “Wait a second. You’re telling me that—”

“Yup. It happened at that camp Mom sent me to after that Julia incident. Remember, she said it would be a character building experience? Well, it turns out that it was a church camp.”

Lina chuckled. “You must have loved that.”

Becky made a face. “They didn’t allow cell phones, or I would have called a taxi and ditched the place. But it was a no-electronics place, and I was stuck. Anyway, it wasn’t so bad. We hiked, swam, and at night this really cool youth leader talked to us. And one night, after toasting marshmallows, she shared her testimony.”

Suddenly, her face turned and she caught Lina’s gaze.

“She was just like me. You know, tough, a fighter. She got suspended from school twice before she found God. That night, Lina, something changed. I gave my life to Jesus.”

Fingering the cross at her throat, she smiled. “Two other girls accepted Christ too. The day we left, Kay—that’s the youth leader’s name—she gave us each a necklace, to remind us that we were different now.”

Lina watched, a strange feeling in her stomach. Becky—irresponsible, hot-tempered, kid-cousin Becky—she looked so serious.

And then, suddenly, Becky grinned and the moment was broken. “So, I was going to save this question for later, but since we’re on the topic— do you want to come to church with me this Sunday?”

Lina hesitated. Church? Her? It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse—and then she remembered the look in Becky’s eyes when she’d shared the camping experience. She remembered the two extra laps and the shock she’d felt at the transformation.

She really has changed. Maybe—maybe I should go check this out.

“I’ll think about it,” Lina’s answer was noncommittal, but, as Becky walked away, the older girl’s heart was questioning. And angels above were singing, anticipating the birth of a new child of God.

R&R: Classics-- John Steinbeck!

I got interested in John Steinbeck because of a trip back from San Francisco, when we passed through Salinas and stopped by “The National Steinbeck Center.” It was an interesting museum/discovery center sort of place, with several exhibits dedicated to each of Steinbeck’s books. Before the visit, he was just a name, (albeit a famous one), but the passion with which the exhibits praised his novels made me look twice.

As I meandered along the corridors, John Steinbeck gradually transformed from a 2d name to a 3-D human being. It was like living through a super-fast preview of his life as I browsed through letters he wrote, books he read (and published), and other info that made him “alive.”

So, during my next visit to the library, I squared my shoulders and picked out “The Grapes of Wrath”— the most famed of Steinbeck’s work and the novel that won him the Pulitzer Prize. To be perfectly honest, I was a bit pessimistic. The cover was worn and faded, and the summary wasn’t exactly appealing.

Unenthusiastically, I opened the book.

My eyes found the first sentence.

I began to read.

To be perfectly honest, it was anticlimactic. No flash of literary awe hit me, no amazing sentence knocked me off my feet.

I read the first paragraph once.

Twice.

It took me three times to understand what Steinbeck was trying to say.

Needless to say, it wasn’t exactly a brilliant start, and I was tempted to put the book down and try again—a couple decades later. But, I’d resolved to read the book, and I wasn’t about to go back on a self-made promise. So, I continued—and somewhere between page two and five-hundred twenty, I fell in love.

*********

Summary

“The Grapes of Wrath” is a novel detailing the story of the Joad family, who set out (during the Great Depression) for California in hopes for a better life. A drop in a river of immigrants, they soon encounter hunger, disease, and discouragement—as well as beauty, friendship, and hope.

The Grapes of Wrath

Written May 25, 2010

Read (roughly around) May 6, 2010

I fell in love with the characters.

In, “The Grapes of Wrath,” each member of the Joad family, (and some of the people who meet them), are drastically changed by the Great Depression. Rose of Sharon, whose husband abandons her midway through the trip, goes from giddy expectation to sullen resignation, to a raw joy at the powerful conclusion of the book. Tom Joad, after serving his time in prison, promises his mother not to “turn mean,” (seek revenge on the law), but is unable to just sit by and do nothing when injustice is done. He eventually joins the fight against the oppressors, resolving to go to the city to rally support for a strike.

Ma, fierce in her quest to unite and protect her family, takes over the family from Pa, who, because of his loss of pride and self-respect, is unable to lead them.

There’s the self-despising Uncle John, whose inward guilt only he can comprehend, and the younger brother Al, who idolizes Tom and yet must learn to be his own person. There’s the not yet grown Ruthie and the “not quite normal” Noah, the fiery Grandparents—and so many more.

Ma’s quiet, (and sometimes not-so-quiet) heroism made me want to cheer. (Now that’s girl power.)

Sullen, disillusioned Rose of Sharon made me want to cry. (I sympathized with her plight and her emotional ups and downs.)

Tom Joad, who learns the true meaning of standing up for what’s right, made me want to dance. (About time you got it, Tom.)

There are many, many more characters, and each are varied and flavored, multidimensional and easy to relate to.

Even when they are doing wrong things, even cowardly things—I admire them, because they are so pathetically sad and yet so admirably brave. Despite not having the beauty, class, and skills of the characters of today’s popular reads, the characters of “The Grapes of Wrath” will stay with me far longer. I have absolutely no idea how Steinbeck is able to make such unpolished people so intimate to a fourteen year old’s heart, but he did it.

Wow.

I fell in love with Steinbeck’s ability to force truth into a raw, emotionally filled picture.

Between each chapter chronicling the journey of the Joad family are chapters illustrating the thoughts, emotions, and happenings during this time. Powerful, descriptive, and vivid, they show the thoughts of a car salesman, a desert road, and a country sinking into something much more dangerous than an economical crisis.

John Steinbeck never really states anything straight out, and yet his messages are clear. At these “flavor chapters,” I got a clear, distinctive picture of both the situation of the peoples during this time, and the emotions of the people of this time.

He shows injustice, callousness, and cruelty, but he shows it in scenes instead of clear phrases, drawing picture after picture. He shows how, despite their situation, the poor bond together and are beautiful in their unity. He shows, through the minds and dealings of car salesmen, how the desperation of peoples lead to the discarding morality and making excuses.

I fell in love with the insightful messages of the book.

Steinbeck shows how the country sinks lower and lower— showing how the Great Depression occurred from a unique perspective. He shows how the land was taken from those who loved it and given to those who saw “only numbers.” He shows how easily fear and hatred takes root when comfortable people are confronted with “people with the gleam of desperate hunger in their eyes.”

John Steinbeck understood that the Great Depression was not the result of mere physical changes, but of inward corruption. Greed and apathy dug the first shallow strokes. Anger and injustice deepened the rapidly growing hole. Fear and suspicion made the grave solid.

Months later, I’m still head-over-heels.

John Steinbeck’s Pulitzer-winning novel is no mere story—it’s a painting of emotion, pain, and raw humanity, misted over with words and glowing with the pure beauty of truth.

*********

Summary

“…young Jody Tiflin is given a red pony by his rancher father. Under ranch hand Billy Buck's guidance, Jody learns to care for and train his pony, which he names Gabilan. Caught in an unexpected rain, Gabilan catches a cold and, despite Billy Buck's ministrations, dies. Jody watches the buzzards alight on the body of his beloved pony, and, distraught at his inability to control events, he kills one of them. The other stories in The Red Pony are "The Great Mountains," "The Promise," and "The Leader of the People," in which Jody develops empathy and also learns from his grandfather about "westering," the migration of people to new places and the urge for new experiences..."

(http://www.amazon.com/Red-Pony-Twentieth-Century-Classics/dp/0140187391/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1277774473&sr=8-1)

The Red Pony

Written May 25, 2010

Read May 23-24, 2010

My second Steinbeck book, “The Red Pony” didn’t touch me like “The Grapes of Wrath,” but was still a worthwhile read. Short, with only 100 pages, the book’s summary (located on the back cover), states that it is about Jody’s encounter with his first pony, Gabilan.

After reading, however, I don’t believe that this is true. Only the first couple chapters detail his brief months with the pony, who becomes weak because of sickness and eventually perishes when, due to its stubborn, high-strung nature, it escapes the safety of its pen and is set upon by buzzards. The book is really about Jody, and how he changes due to his experiences. (His experiences include his months with Gabilan, in which he has his first brush with responsibility, love for another, and tragedy.)

Jody experiences grief and fury, anxiety and pain. For the first time, he learns the joys and pain and truly caring for something. In other words, he grows up.

In later chapters, other events also shape him. He becomes aware of a longing within him to explore the area “over the mountains.” This longing is amplified when an old man, Gitano, comes unexpectedly to their ranch, with the simple reason that “he was born there,” and who has gone over the mountains before. Steinbeck effectively shows the power of restlessness and the longing for adventure, first through Jody’s daydreams of travel, Gitano’s eventual return to the place “over the mountains,” and Jody’s Grandfather’s unwillingness to let go of the past life of adventure.

Again, Steinbeck’s characters are unforgettable. Hard, rough, and yet all beautiful in a wild, untamed way, (sort of like Gabilan, actually), they are individualistic and memorable.

There’s Billy Buck, the hired hand; Cal, the stern father; Jody, the boy who matures into a person who is not yet a man but not quite a boy either; and Grandfather, the story-telling hero of old who has never been able to get rid of his desire for more adventure. All these characters are not defined (trapped, limited) by their roles, and they are all emotional, despite the fact that Steinbeck spends only a few words on their descriptions.

One emotionally charged scene still haunts me.

After Gabilan’s death, Jody has the chance to own another pony. He eagerly waits as Nellie, the mare who will give birth to his promised foal, gets impregnated and develops. Finally, after months of waiting, the mare goes into labor. Everything seems fine—until it’s not.

At the end of the bloody, tense night, Billy Buck sacrifices the mare Nellie in order to get Jody his promised foal. The scene is sad, disturbing, and yet somewhat sweet, and remains in my mind even now.

It doesn’t matter what the title is—I don’t believe that this book is about ponies, but about Jody, and his first steps from boy to man.

*********

So there you have it, my “R&R” after reading two masterpieces by one of America’s most celebrated authors. Again, don’t take my word for it—read the books yourself! They’re not easy, but trust me—they’re worth it.

R&R: Classics-- Presenting Jane Austen!

Curtain Opens

The first “serious” book I read as a child was an abridged version of Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.”

~Scene 1: Interest~

The intriguing plot, spirited Elizabeth, and her love-hate relationship with Mr. Darcy appealed to me. My first impression of Austen was a favorable one, and I, with stars in my eyes, eagerly looked forward to more.

And so, years passed, until one day, I borrowed another of Austen’s masterpieces, and flipped it open--

~Scene 2: Shock~

All my literary pride died that day—a painful, violent death. I was floored. The child’s version I’d so easily devoured didn’t prepare me for Austen’s use of language, the complexity of the dialogue in her work, and her vast array of characters. Needless to say, my second encounter with Austen was far less pleasant than the first.

~Scene 3: Frustration~

Because the genre was romance, I naively assumed that the books would be as easy to read as the teen chick flicks off the library shelf. I read quickly (scanning was more like it), and was proud of the “skill.” However, my usual reading technique didn’t work with Austen—instead, it led to my not understanding what was going on in her work—at all.

~Scene 4: Defeat~

Instead of slowing down and reading more patiently, I stuck to my “speed reading” technique, finishing the book with no inkling of the plot or characters. Finally, frustrated and defeated, I gave up.

A year or so later, Austen was the last thing on my mind. Vacationing at a beautiful desert campground, I was walking back to our tents with some friends, when the subject of conversation turned to literature. A friend then informed me that one of his favorite authors was, (you guessed it), Jane Austen. This pricked my pride, (which had miraculously resurrected after its brutal demise), and I resolved to give it another try.

~Scene 5: Determination~

At the library, I looked at the vast array of choices. “Pride and Prejudice,” I considered already read, and I didn’t feel like tackling “Sense and Sensibility,” since I’d already watched part of the movie and knew most of the plot. Then, my eyes fell on a copy of “Emma.” I’d attempted reading it before, and of all of Austen’s novels, this was the one I liked the most (based on reputation and my limited knowledge of her work). Also, besides the book copy was an album of audio CDs. I borrowed both.

Here is the result.

(Before reading my reflection on “Emma,” it’s a good idea to get a general idea of what the book is about. Here’s a brief summary:

Basically, “Emma” the story of a wealthy, beautiful, young lady named Emma, whose interest in matchmaking ends up tangling up the lives of the people around her. Gifted with insight (or, at least she believes it is insight), into other people’s romantic inclinations, she plots and plans, turning relationships upside down. It takes a shocking revelation of her own feelings and of the feelings of the ones dearest to her to make her realize that maybe she doesn’t have all the answers after all, and that true love might be where she least expects it.)

Emma

Written May 25, 2010

Read (roughly around) April 16, 2010

Borrowing both the audio and the written version turned out to be a good idea. With the audio version, I could grasp the meanings of the long, complex sentences much more easily. The voice speaking out the words gave me “a feel” of how to read Austen. After getting “the feel” of Austen’s style, I found reading her easier. (Especially since my mind kept conjuring up Victoria Morgan’s voice while reading.)

Austen’s sentences, especially the dialogue, are so uniquely written that one word can change the entire meaning of the entire sentence (and often do). Not a single word is unnecessary, and unless I read carefully, it is easy to miss an important piece of information and get confused. Humbling myself, I slowed down, reading sentences over and over until I was sure I understood the meanings.

After a few confusing moments, I realized that it was easier to memorize the characters’ characters than their names. Their personalities do not change—Harriet remains shy and indecisive, Mr. Woodhouse remains affectionately worrisome (almost annoying. Even Emma’s character does not change much, though she goes through periods of self discovery that are both funny and just a bit sad.

She honestly believes in her actions, which is why I like her, and Austen makes it so that, despite her continual erring ways, I continue to like her and wish for her happiness. I think that Austen’s stories are built around her characters, and your enjoyment of the book depends on how much you like the characters.

For example, if you don’t like Emma, then you won’t like the book. Period. Therefore, Emma’s emotions and feelings are portrayed throughout the book and it is told completely through her eyes.

~Scene 6: Renewed Interest~

After my (much more successful) read of “Emma,” I resolved to read more of Austen. Despite the fact that I now could “understand” most of what was going on, I still felt that her work was a challenge, and I wanted to “practice” reading her works. So, I picked up “Persuasion,” and wrote another reflection piece.

(Summary: Anne Elliot is a plain, gentle, and (completely) ladylike young woman whose story is told in the book, “Persuasion.” The plot centers around the fact that, several years before, she rejected the marriage proposal of the man she loved based on the advice of a friend. Years later, she is content but not happy—until Mr. Wentworth, (the man she turned down), reappears in her life.)

Persuasion

Written May 31, 2010

Read May 31, 2010

Since I seem to rebel against reading the famed “Pride and Prejudice” again, or “Sense and Sensibility,” I plucked “Persuasion” off the shelf. It’s a classic romance of a gentle soul named Anne who, after being “persuaded,” (hence the name), by good-hearted, (yet opinionated, think Ms. Lynde from Anne of Green Gables), Ms. Russell that marrying unconnected sailor Mr. Wentworth would be a bad idea, meets him again eight and a half years later.

It’s a sweet story, and predictable. Anne and Mr. Wentworth, (who is now a captain), tiptoe around each other, the man cold, the woman shy. He seems to court another, she watches from a distance. She leaves and is courted, he reappears and seems jealous. Her suitor is found out to be a worldly, artificial piece of trash, and she reveals that she never loved him anyway. He, (Mr. Wentworth), proposes, and they get married.

I read somewhere once that Austen made fun of the arrogant, the vain, and the greedy by accenting their faults and placing them in her novels. Mr. Walter Elliot and Elizabeth, (poor Anne’s older sister and father), are both shown to be vain, snobbish, and eventually ridiculous. Her (whiny, self-appointed martyr of the family) younger sister Mary is just as bad, complaining and clinging to the more sensible people around her. If making fun of these people was her aim—she achieved it.

Personally, I don't Austen's plot was enough to make her work a classic. Her writing does not represent or hint at profound things, nor is it an exploration of the human mind. Austen’s strength seems to be that her romances are written with such refinement, such style that it lacks the cheapness of lesser romance novels.

(Note for reading Austen: Figuring who is who can be difficult. Austen introduces many characters of the same name and rarely explains the similarity right away. An example is ‘Sir Walter Elliot,’ and ‘Mr. Elliot,’ the cousin of Anne and her potential suitor. The name ‘Charles’ is held by many of the characters, including Henrietta’s fiancé, Mary’s husband, and others.)

~Scene 7: Satisfaction~

It took seven “scenes” for me, now fourteen, to learn to appreciate Austen. Her work is difficult to read, (for me at least), and yet I felt very satisfied after I read it. My opinion is that, if anyone reading this wants to read Austen, they shouldn’t let my words influence them too much. This was simply my opinion.

Like all readers, I’m influenced by my upbringing, my parents, my exposure to literature, and many other things. I hope that people reading this realize this, and also that it is possible for a fourteen year old to read and enjoy master writers like Austen.

Curtain Closes

R&R: Classics

It’s a quiet area of the library (not that the library is ever loud), a place where only the brave venture, where only determined parents and sadistic teachers walk freely. It’s a row of books with the dreaded brand on them, a line of volumes covering topics so vast that most wonder why they are grouped together.

Classics. The genre has been both dreaded and feared for generations. We see the word and think, “run for the hills! Flee from the onslaught of boredom, pain, and endless pages of old English and hidden meanings!”

I love to read—always have, always will. I’ve read everything from C.S. Lewis to Francine Rivers to James Patterson. I’ve read romance, thrillers, mysteries, short stories, and even a few plays. But the genre “classics” never made my list.
This all changed on my fourteenth birthday.

“I’m going to do something this year. I’m going to accomplish things actually worth something. That means, good-bye to the easy life—I’m taking the hard road this year.”
The words buzzed through the young girl’s mind, filling her with determination. Already she could see herself achieving great things, hard things, amazing things—scenes of possible projects danced before her eyes, dazzling her with their brilliance.
She flew higher and higher, and her dreams grew more and more grand—and then the bubble popped and she landed with a thump on her rear end.
“All right, time to be practical. After all, the journey of a thousand miles started with a single step. What goal can I set right now that I’ll actually fulfill?”


Well, I set many goals that day, including, (you guessed it,) the goal to journey to that isolated corner of the library and actually read some classics. I looked on the shelf, checked out two books, and embarked on an amazing journey.


Coming Up Soon!
Want a new perspective on Jane Austen, John Steinbeck, and other famous names? Check back soon for my reflection of “classic” works of literature.