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December 31, 2009

Countdowns of 2009: The Best Blog/Diary/Journal Entries of the Decade

Filed under: Creative Writing, Friday Free-For-All, HAP: Interviewed, Memes! Surveys! Lists!, Nostalgia & Memories — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — admin @ 4:18 pm

Let’s party like it’s ten years ago today!

My Favorite Blog/Diary/Journal Entries of the Decade

* Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

99% of these probably don’t make sense to anyone, even the other people who were there.  A few of them barely still make sense to me.  I think that’s the sign of a decade well-lived, don’t you?

June 12, 2000

(2009 Note: This is a clear example of why not to write comics with your friends, about your friends, that only your friends could understand.)

The Fighting Fitzpeople

July 4, 2001

The most EMBARRASSING thing that ever happened to me…..

THE MOST embarrassing thing that EVER happened to me was, well, see, one day, the clasp on my bra broke and so my mom brought me another one, and I put the broken bra into a bag in my binder.  2 Weeks later, Eugene stole the bag out of my binder and left it in the Spanish room.  Chris M. found it, waved it around, and Sra. L. HUNG IT IN THE DOORWAY w/ a sign that said “¿De quien es esta bra?”  So I made a sign the next day that said “Don’t go through others’ binders (Eugene!)” so Ann made a sign that said “Don’t leave your bra in the Spanish Room (HAYLEY!!!)”

December 26, 2002

Amy and my BRILLIANT theory to the world of Harry Potter… it was actually MY theory, but I’m letting her share the credit.

Our idea as to why Voldemort wanted to kill Harry and James Potter is as follows:

According to a theory on Mugglenet.com (and our own slightly slow common sense), Harry and James were both heirs to Gryffindor – they lived in Godric’s hollow, and Harry succeeded in pulling Gryffindor’s sword out of the Sorting Hat during his battle with the Basilisk, the monster of Slytherin. Voldemort, knowing this and being the heir to Slytherin, targeted them because he wanted to finish Salazar’s work and end the quibble that had arisen between the two Hogwarts founders.

To further confuse you, Neville is a parallel to Peter Pettigrew, as they both were tag-alongs to three more popular and powerful wizards in their year.

Ginny is a parallel to Lily, because they both have red hair and are at nature good people and physically beautiful.

Since Neville is a parallel to Pettigrew, and has shown interest in Ginny, who is in turn parallel to Lily, we think that Pettigrew was attracted to Lily.

Voldemort, knowing that Pettigrew had lusted for Lily, and had had his heart broken when James married her, got Pettigrew to unleash his hidden wrath towards James by betraying James and Harry’s whereabouts to Voldemort.

We know that Voldemort did not have any interest in murdering Lily until she got in the way of him killing Harry. He even told her, “Stand aside, silly girl!” Therefore, we know that he, being the heir of Slytherin, was only after the heirs of Gryffindor – James and Harry – and not Lily, who was just Lily.

So that is our theory as to why Voldemort wanted to murder Harry and James Potter.

teehee, gigglegiggle. bahahahahahahaa.

WE ARE BLOODY BRILLIANT!!!!!!

KTODSPAF,

<3Hayley

August 5, 2003

This was the best night of my life.

August 3, 2004

6 Girls
+ 7 Boys
+ 10,000 Marshmallows
+ 10 Sidewalk Chalks
+ 2 Cars
+ 1 Policeman
+ 1 Creepy Whisper
+ Midnight
__________________
One Crazy, Crazy Night

November 1, 2005

My new goal is to try and blog more like Meg Cabot, who somehow always has enough to say that it takes her a lot of words.

Sometimes, I am very daunted by words. I’m always afraid that somehow, I will run out of them, and then I won’t have anything to do with my life. I go to the library or a bookstore, and I see all of the books there, and I think…

Holy crap.  Look how many words have been used up.

It just doesn’t seem like there are that many more combinations of them that are possible.

And whenever I read something absolutely wonderful, like the ( tropopause monologue ) of Angels in America, I think, “That combination of words is so breathtaking… and no one can ever use it again and claim it their own. There are so few breathtaking combinations of words that can be mine.”

I get paranoid about everything I write after that, because a) WHAT IF I INADVERTANTLY COPIED SOMEONE ELSE’S ENTIRE BOOK? and b) WHAT IF SOMEONE ELSE PUBLISHES MY COMBINATIONS OF WORDS BEFORE I GET THE CHANCE TO, AND THEN NO ONE WILL BELIEVE THEY’RE MINE?

Then I hate words for a few minutes, and try to get by without them. But thinking without words is difficult sometimes, and if someone comes in, communicating without words can be awkward.

It is a dilemma.

August 25, 2006

Dear Veronica Mars,

I have been watching your show far too much on YouTube. Can you teach me how to solve mysteries? I lose stuff a lot.

Sincerely,
Hayley

December 25, 2007

Best. Christmas. Ever.

The moral of the story is, if you’re two years old and you get a Barbie fork stuck so far up your nose that X-rays can’t find it (and they try to drug-test your mother because it’s 1989 and you accidentally told them it was a spoon up your nose and they assume you got the idea from watching your mother snort blow, when really it was a fork all along and your mother did no such thing!) and you eventually sneeze it out all over your poor harassed mother at dinner and it almost breaks your neck because your dad is holding your head in place; and then you refuse to talk about it for almost a week before very seriously telling your father, “I did it because there was a booger I couldn’t reach”… then you’ll laugh about it until you’re bawling eighteen years later.

Not that I ever got a fork stuck up my nose when I was two.

…

My Barbies still aren’t allowed to eat dinner.

December 23, 2008

I saw the Rockefeller Center tree, and watched the skaters circle round and round the golden-lit rink.

I was ignored in Gucci (again) but didn’t have to suffer through being called fat by Swedish Prada models in Bergdorf’s (although yesterday, Lily Cole called me ‘quite cool’ and asked where was ‘the queue to the wash-up’).

FAO Schwartz’ giant stuffed animals were everything I ever hoped they would be.  There was a duo of siblings in matching Fair Isles Christmas sweaters jumping around on the giant piano, and they were precious.

AT FAO SCHWARTZ YOU CAN HAVE MADE YOUR OWN CUSTOM MUPPET.  If I am ever rich, I will have my own fleet of Muppets.  That is, now that I know it is possible, the epitome of all my life’s dreams.  Fleet of custom Muppets.

I had dessert at the Plaza.  It was so beautiful it was almost scary, and there is no portrait of Eloise on the wall anymore, just a case of 2004-rerelease Eloise memorabilia for sale in the side lobby.  The waitstaff all wear tuxedos with tails and have cufflinks.  Dessert was served with literal silver spoons, despite the fact that I clearly was not born with one in my mouth.  The chocolate pot de creme with chantilly cream and chocolate streusel was divine, and it was free, because a middle-aged Armenian man who was too mild-mannered to Richard-Gere-in-Pretty-Woman himself out more than to order us French fries surreptitiously, which he sent back when we didn’t want them, paid for it.

I used the strategy I learned for such occasions on Long Island: ”Thank you,” and leave immediately.

The lights on the ironwork were almost enough to make me wish I were rich enough or self-deprecating enough to stay at the Plaza for Christmas, though.

And if I did, I would completely pour a pitcher of water down the mail chute.

March 23, 2009
http://hayleyanneperkins.com/blog/?p=3

I’ve been trying to think of an appropriate way to christen my new blog as Hayley Anne Perkins, but my ideas always seem to fall short, at least in my own mind.  I’m very conscious of the implications of blogging to an audience that comprises more than just your best friends and your mom… I’m vaguely terrified of saying, or rather typing, just the wrong thing in just the wrong way and coming across as a terrible person.  Or at least as a person with an overinflated sense of self-importance, which is just as bad in a blogger.

So to break the ice: my ode to NYC Teen Author Festival 2009.

To preface this extremely bizarre gobbledygook — NYCTAF09 (I’m lazy and enjoy acronyms) was awesome.   I had an amazing time meeting all of the authors and several readers, and everyone was really nice and extraordinarily “chill” for it being an autograph signing… given my boy band expertise, I’m used to autograph signings involving at least three fainters and a tablejumper.  I was glad to see that everyone was patient and open to conversing with everyone else in line as they waited, and it was a treat to see the way that the writers complemented (and complimented!) each other.

While most people at the event today brought or bought stacks of books by their favorite writers, I brought the ultimate book: the Dictionary.

I asked every author to sign over their favorite word, and I promised to take the collection of Best Words and write a little mishmash of a piece.  Elise Broach said that I should try to get them all in order, and I seriously considered it until I started trying to decipher the autographs, and I realized that I was forgetting the order already.  Sigh.

The form was promised to Judy Blundell for her choice — “poem” — and the tone to Heather Duffy-Stone… “lusty”.  Unfortunately for all parties involved, poetry is the second-furthest thing from being my forte (with Math beating it easily).  Anyone I’ve ever dated can attest.  Therefore, given that this is not only a poem, but a poem using nonsense words, I hope no one takes it TOO seriously as a test of my writing ability!  Unless you love it, in which case, this is totally how I write…

You couldn’t see it, but my eyes got very shifty at that last sentence.

And I have to say, David Levithan saying that he was excited to read the finished endeavor pretty much killed me.  So here goes.

Ned Vizzini Stole My Pen
A Lusty Poem

Twin popes –
one pulchritudinous, the other feculant
in appearance –
both indefatigable in their vast perversity,
though incredulous of the idealism of the other:
one a bonvivant in deep meditation on generosity and grace,
the other in love with his epiphany on ecstasy,
sneaked into the basement of the church
ignoring the musical comedy rehearsal
upstairs.

One facetiously donned a crash
the other merely a lush apron
as they prepared to bake treats
for their family reunion
beneath the moon.

There could be no peace between these two brothers.
Discussion broke down in their unctuous disregard for each other
like a luffing sailboat’s disregard for the wind
when fighting its way through a sluice
(in simile, not metaphor);
Something was always wrong.

As delicious purple rhubarb dumplings
vied for space amongst the donuts
an ephemeral smoke began to rise:
almost magical in its majesty
And the brothers watched,
thunderstruck.

As they watched in wonder,
the metal of the pots against the stove –
fulminate metals –
began to coruscate,
shooting sparks into the air.

The pastries were ruined.
The brothers found between them a new sublimity:
they no longer had to bring dessert to the reunion
thanks to a force majeure.

LOVE – Nora Baskin
PURPLE - Jessica Blank
POEM - Judy Blundell
MEDITATION – Coe Booth
ECSTASY - Elise Broach
PEACE - Susane Colasanti
EPIPHANY (BUT NOT IN A RELIGIOUS SENSE)* – Sarah Darer-Littman
GRACE (NOT CHRISTIAN GRACE)* – Matt de la Pena
LUST – Heather Duffy-Stone
GENEROSITY – Gayle Forman
LUSH – Aimee Friedman
UNCTUOUS – Madeleine George
POPE – Maureen Johnson
TWIN – Kristen Kemp
PULCHRITUDINOUS – Justine Larbalestier
WONDER – David Levithan
DUMPLING – E. Lockhart
CORUSCATE – Barry Lyga
FAMILY – Carolyn Mackler
RHUBARB – Sarah MacLean
SUBLIME – Megan McCafferty
DELICIOUS - Lauren McLaughlin
LUSH - Neesha Meminger
SOMETHING (BECAUSE “SOMETHING IS GOOD”) – Billy Merrell
CRASH – Blake Nelson
BONVIVANT – Micol Ostow
INCREDULOUS - David Ozanich
EPHEMERAL (BUT ONLY FOR TODAY) – Matthue Roth
FORCE MAJEURE - Marie Rutkoski
SNEAK – Lisa Ann Sandell
FACETIOUS (BUT FOR REAL) – Courtney Sheinmel
DONUT (NOT DOUGHNUT) – Brian Sloan
IDEALISM - Jennifer Smith
PERVERSITY – Rachel Vail
INCREDULOUS – David Van Etten
LUFF – Ned Vizzini
SLUICE – Adrienne Maria Vrettos
INDEFATIGABLE - Cecily von Ziegesar
MOON - Melissa Walker
THUNDERSTRUCK - Lynn Weingarten
FECULANT - Scott Westerfeld
VAST - Suzanne Weyn
MUSICAL COMEDY - Maryrose Wood
METAPHOR – Lizabeth Zindel

“FULMINATE” and “MAGICAL,” I am so sorry, but I can’t read your autographs or remember who wrote them… if it was you, please reclaim your Favorite Word in a comment!

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October 1, 2009

Banned Books Week: Throwing Pots

Filed under: Biliophilia!, Creative Writing, Nostalgia & Memories — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — admin @ 1:20 pm

When I was in grades K-12, my mother was always heavily involved in our local school district.  When I was in elementary school, she was the president of our PTA (Parent-Teacher Association), and as I got older, she moved upwards in the ranks until she was the president of the local School Board.

This morning, I called her and thanked her for never banning a book.

All week, I have been reading about the struggles had recently by Laurie Halse Anderson and Lauren Myracle, and thinking about J.K. Rowling and Phillip Pullman and Mark Twain and Judy Blume… and I salute them for telling their stories the way they are meant to be told, the way they needed to be told.

When I was in fourth grade, I came home with a copy of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and my mother caught me reading it in my lap at the table while I had my after-school snack, and she asked what I was reading so intently.

“It’s a book by Judy Blume,” I said.  “I really like it, she’s a really good writer.”

Then, my mother and I had a talk about Judy Blume, and how she writes books for all different ages, so while it was OK for me to read the Fudge & Peter Hatcher books in fourth grade, she didn’t want me to read other Judy Blume books yet.  But, she said, when I was in fifth grade, I could read Are You There God?  It’s Me, Margaret and Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself.

She did not want me to read Deenie or Tiger Eyes or Forever until at least when I was in high school.

And of course, I thought this was unfair, because Judy Blume is a fantastic writer, but I listened, because she explained to me why she didn’t want me reading those books yet, and about how different subjects are appropriate for children at different ages and stages of life.

I thanked her for that this morning, too.  It is immense that she had that discussion with me instead of just forbidding me to read any more Blume books, even though she knew that I might have my curiosity piqued and promptly go attempt to check out Forever from the public library.

In all honesty, had she forbidden it, I would have done exactly that.

But the dialogue educated me so much more, and when I did finally read Forever, I was well-equipped to understand why I’d needed to mature and wait.  When I read Forever, I was seventeen, and in no way was the book “bad” for me, or “harmful.”

And yet Forever is still the 13th Most Frequently Challenged book in America.

I think that the reason that books are banned is that many parents are so afraid of having those discussions with their children, because they fear that the repercussions of introducing that there may be inappropriate ideas in the world is the same as introducing those inappropriate concepts themselves.

I feel like books and concepts and discussions all have to go hand-in-hand to have any meaning whatsoever… reading Forever would not have had the same impact on me had I not talked with my mother about it some eight years before.  At the same time, I think I would have read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing differently and never had the guts to approach Are You There God?  It’s Me, Margaret without knowing that something else was coming… I was growing and building to something and that there were things out there that really did change when you were a grown-up.

In seventh grade, when our school celebrated ALA Banned Books Week and my class read The Giver, my teacher, Ms. Fitzgibbons, (who was brilliant; one of the best teachers that I ever had) likened growing up to the process of throwing a pot: every person is born freeform, like a lump of clay, and every experience you ever have — every word you read, every discussion you have — is like another hand on the potter’s wheel.  You cannot unlive an experience or unread a word or untalk a talk any more than the clay could become untouched and raw again.  The words we read are like only right hands, and the words we speak and hear only left hands.  Without both, the pot comes out lopsided and can’t be fully functional.

The metaphor is a little convoluted, but the endpoint is clear.

If you only read challenged books on the sly, hidden with your penlight in your closet, then you are missing an essentially important part of the process: Why did the author write those words?  Why did your parents or school or town not want you to read them?

Your pot will be floopy and lopsided and fall over all the time and will never be good at carrying water.

I know.  I was not supposed to be reading the last three books of the Janie Johnson series by Caroline Cooney, but I was so intrigued by the first and I thought Reeve was so dreamy (Reeve!  His name was Reeve!  Clearly, he was a hunk!) that I ignored my mother saying, “No, there are some things that I don’t want you to read.”

And I hid the fact that I read them anyway, and kept them under my mattress.

And I still feel squirmy inside now, in a bad, stomach-full-of-snakes way, when I hear the names “Reeve” or “Janie” because I knew, while reading their sex scene, that I was doing something wrong even though they weren’t.  I wasn’t supposed to be reading that book, and instead of understanding and growing and appreciating the story, I felt…

Floopy.  And lopsided.

Do I think that the Janie Johnson series should be banned because I felt badly after reading it?

Absolutely not.  Emphatically, fist-shakingly assuredly not.

But do I wish I had talked about it with someone older and trusted when it confused me… just like Harry Potter does whenever he is thrown a situation he doesn’t feel he can handle on his own in another frequently-banned series?

Absolutely yes.

Would it have been profoundly awkward to tell my mom that I’d read Whatever Happened to Janie, The Voice on the Radio, and What Janie Found?

Emphatically, first-shakingly, assuredly YES.

But would it have been better to have talked about why the pressure Reeve puts on Janie to have sex made me feel so uncomfortable?

Also yes.

While I feel kind of squicky writing about Reeve and Janie and how awkward I felt and how very much too young I was to have read Caroline B. Cooney’s books when I did (at age eleven), I am still glad that they were available for me to find and read and learn that lesson.

Even though maybe that part of my pottery is kind of dented.

Because if books are banned…

If they aren’t allowed at all…

Then the clay just sits.

And waits.

And dries out to nothing at all, except a pale and crackled slab that cannot even absorb water, much less carry it towards those who need it.

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July 31, 2009

Friday Free-For-All: “25 Things”

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — admin @ 6:44 pm

Hey, remember a few months ago when the “Twenty-Five Random Facts About Me” meme was considered a huge cultural phenomenon?

  1. My favorite words are “constellation” and “quintessential,” and I wish I could find more uses to say or write “syzygy” in my day-to-day life.
  2. All four books in the Green quartet have passages written.  None of them, thus far, include “syzygy.”
  3. I can’t focus without having either music or television on in the background of whatever I’m doing. Having a built-in distraction keeps me from searching for one.
  4. More often than not, I’d rather be eating Chinese food.
  5. The albums I’m listening to right now are Heroes & Thieves by Vanessa Carlton, Folie A Deux by Fall Out Boy, all of Robert Pattinson’s sundry unreleased tracks, and the 2009 tracks by Open Till Midnight.  I also listen Owl City’s “Fireflies” a LOT.
  6. In regards to many Pieces of Flair, would take Jim Halpert over Edward Cullen any day. I’d actually take pretty much anyone over Edward Cullen. But almost no one over Jim Halpert.
  7. I idolize Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen to this day.  I originally joined their Fun Club in 1990.  I am not currently an active member, except maybe in spirit.  …Winning minds, winning hearts, Winning London.
  8. I prefer salty over sweet and hot beverages to cold beverages. Potato chips and hot cocoa is the best snack.  I really eat way too many potato chips.
  9. I’d rather see a local band in concert than a big, signed, super-professional band. I prefer the atmosphere of hope to one of smug success.  I’m also really into has-beens, in a sad kind of way.
  10. There’s nothing more beautiful in the world than the Manhattan skyline at night — my favorite is the Chrystler Building.
  11. My favorite movie is secretly Superbad. I tend to tell people it’s Clue.
  12. If I could have any three guests to dinner, I would invite J.K. Rowling, Jack Kerouac, and George Harrison.
  13. I still get American Girl catalogs in the mail.
  14. I HATE socks. I HATE socks. HATE.
  15. I will always prefer YA and 6-8 novels to novels written for adults.  “The salient fact of an adolescent girl’s existence is her need for a secret emotional life—one that she slips into during her sulks and silences, during her endless hours alone in her room, or even just when she’s gazing out the classroom window while all of Modern European History, or the niceties of the passé composé, sluice past her. This means that she is a creature designed for reading in a way no boy or man, or even grown woman, could ever be so exactly designed, because she is a creature whose most elemental psychological needs—to be undisturbed while she works out the big questions of her life, to be hidden from view while still in plain sight, to enter profoundly into the emotional lives of others—are met precisely by the act of reading.” — Atlantic Monthly|Dec08
  16. I have a presumptuous fascination with molecular gastronomy and experimental haute cuisine. The best meal of my life was at Alinea; I have philosophical problems with Moto; and I feel that I will never be important enough to get a reservation at El Bulli, but relish the idea that someday I may get to go to Adriano Zumbo at Balmain.
  17. I have terrible taste in movies, and I know it. But I genuinely believe that I have the best taste in music in the entire freaking world.
  18. Secretly, I kind of wish I could dress like a hipster.
  19. The only person I really talk to on the phone is my Gramma, three times a week (or more).
  20. I love the New York Times, and prefer it to the Chicago Tribune.  I hate the New York Post with a passion.
  21. I wish it were always raining, and I love thunderstorms more than anything.
  22. I’ve read fanfiction for twelve years.  ::Facepalm::
  23. I have a complete fascination with superheroes and often like to pretend that they’re real. Particularly Spider-Man and the X-Men.  The only person I would date right now were they to ask is Spider-Man.  Or, I guess, Peter Parker.
  24. The only colors I’ll really wear are black, white, red, and turquoise. If I could pull off kelly green, I’d wear that, too, but I can’t.
  25. If I could live in any year, it would be 1964.
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July 24, 2009

Friday Free-For-All: In Honor of Harry Potter, Part II

Filed under: Friday Free-For-All, Memes! Surveys! Lists! — Tags: , , , , , , , , — admin @ 7:24 pm

Meme/survey taken from one of my favorite people and favorite bloggers, Sarah Colangelo, of Technicolor World and A Dash of Ribaldry.  However, to her second-least-favorite character assessment, I say: HOW DARE YOU?

Hey, there were wizards…

All time favorite character?
Ginny Weasley

List the books in order from your favorite to your least favorite.
1. GoF
2. CoS
3. OotP
4. HBP
5. SS
6. DH
7. PoA

List the movies in order from your favorite to your least favorite.

1. CoS
2. PoA
3. OotP
4. SS
5. GoF
6. I haven’t seen HBP yet, but am tomorrow!  I know, I’m inexcusably late.

Favorite chapter from your favorite book?

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at Number Four, Privet Drive… /or/ several sunlit days…

Top 5 favorite characters?
1. Ginny Weasley
2. Moaning Myrtle
3. Molly Weasley
4. Justin Finch-Fletchley
5. Arnold.  You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.  Or maybe McGonagall, because she was awesome, too.  Or Fred.

Five least favorite characters?
1. Zacharias Smith
2. Fleur Delacoeur
3. Severus Snape.  Don’t you make that face at me.  I really said it.
4. Vernon Dursley
5. Bellatrix Lestrange.  I don’t find her to be as intimidating as the other Death Eaters.

Favorite member of the Golden Trio?
Ron

Favorite family?
The Weasleys

Favorite antagonist?
Dolores Umbridge inspires more hatred in me than Lord Voldemort does, but Fenrir Greyback might be the most chilling children’s lit character of all time.  Not that I consider Harry Potter children’s lit in the slightest, personally.

Favorite Death Eater?
Fenrir Greyback… BECAUSE he’s so terrifying.

Three favorite spells?
Prior Incantato
Avis
Expecto Patronum

Three favorite potions?
1. Amortentia
2. Felix Felicis
3. Pumpkin Juice

Favorite Non-Hogwarts magical building?
Either The Burrow or the idea of the Shrieking Shack.

Favorite Diagon Alley shop?
Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor or the owlery

Favorite Hogsmeade Shop?
Honeydukes!

Favorite Unforgivable Curse?
Imperius

Favorite mode of wizard transportation?
The Floo Network, because the description of Floo Powder is gorgeous.

Favorite Weasley?
Ginny.   Followed by Molly.  Followed by Fred.

Favorite Order Member?
Original: Gideon & Fabian Prewett; 1990s: Minerva McGonagall.

Favorite DA Member?
Aside from the obvious (Ginny), easily Angelina Johnson.

Favorite pet?
Arnold!

Favorite Hogwarts room?
The Prefects’ Bathroom

Favorite Hogwarts Professor?
Minerva McGonagall; outside of her, Professor Sprout.

Favorite non-human Hogwarts resident?
Firenze

Favorite Tri-Wizard Champion?
Harry, actually.  But I think it’s asking aside from him, in which case, I’ll say “Cedric by default.”

Favorite House Elf?
Dobby

Favorite Wizard sweet?
Chocolate Cauldrons

Favorite canon couple?
H/G FOR LIFE!

Favorite non-canon couple?
Neville/Katie

Biggest surprise of the series?
HOW COULD HARRY BE A HORCRUX?  THAT MAKES VOLDEMORT’S INABILITY TO POSSESS HIM MAKE NO SENSE!

Biggest letdown of the series?

I will sound like a loser and completely uneducated when I say this, but: “Albus Severus”?  Really?

Actually, the biggest letdown was that Ms. Rowling made Dumbledore, her allegory for constant goodness, fallible, without making Voldemort — constant evil — at all redeemed.

One character you wish lived?
Fred Weasley, or one of Teddy’s parents.

Moment that will always make you cry?
“Here lies a free elf.”

Your Patronus would be___?
An owl!  Or a peacock.  Or a turtle!

Three things Amortentia would smell like to you?
Dusty book pages, baking bread, and brown sugar.

You would use Felix Felicis to___?
Green.

Job you would most like to try?
Hmmm… Madame Rosmerta has a fascinating job, I think, because she interacts with such a diverse clientele of magical beings.

Ron/Hermione or Harry/Hermione?
Ron/Hermione.  The Good Ship.

James/Lily or Snape/Lily?
James/Lily.  There’s certain canon that I just can’t mess with, even in my head.

Do you know which page Dumbledore was killed on?
No.

Do you think Harry Potter is better than Twilight?
That’s like asking if soda is better than steak.  They’re completely, completely different genres, styles, levels of social responsibility and social commentary, and are aimed at evoking nearly opposite audience response.  After saying that, yes: I find Harry Potter more engaging, inspiring, and multilayered than Twilight, but I think the Twilight fandom enjoys itself more than the Harry Potter fandom has in the last few years (since the books/speculation ended).

Are you going to go see the Half Blood Prince in theatres?
Tomorrow!  FINALLY!

Do you own the books/movies?
The books, yes; the movies, only SS, CoS, and PoA.  I may buy GoF Used On Amazon, for a certain actor who played a doomed Triwizard Champion.

Have you ever played any of the video games?
I’ve played two video games, on one occasion each, in my entire life.  And neither was a Harry Potter game.

Don’t they kind of suck?
I believe you…

Do you think it would be cool to have a pet owl?
Yes!  But only if it were a Scops owl like Pigwideon, because owl pellets are gross.

How about a rat?
No… their tails scare me a little.

Have you ever listened to the soundtrack?
It’s one of the few orchestral film scores I own.

Which house would you want to be in?
I think I would want to be in Gryffindor by default, since we know their House best, but I would probably be sorted into Slytherin because I’m ambitious.

Do you like Draco?
I don’t dislike him, but I never thought he’d become redeemed and transition into a likeable character.  Fanon Draco annoys me to no end, which may be at fault.

Would you ever enter the Triwizard tournament?
Most likely not, because I’m bad at being outdoors.

Would you keep your money in Gringotts?
I mean… It’s kind of like… THE option.

What class would be your favorite?
History of Magic, Transfiguration, and Charms.

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July 17, 2009

Friday Free-For-All: In Honor of Harry Potter

Filed under: Biliophilia!, Friday Free-For-All, Nostalgia & Memories — Tags: , , , , , , , — admin @ 4:45 pm

Dated December 23, 2002, from my diary:

Amy and my BRILLIANT theory to the world of Harry Potter… it was actually MY theory, but I’m letting her share the credit.

Our idea as to why Voldemort wanted to kill Harry and James Potter is as follows:

According to a theory on Mugglenet.com (and our own slightly slow common sense), Harry and James were both heirs to Gryffindor – they lived in Godric’s hollow, and Harry succeeded in pulling Gryffindor’s sword out of the Sorting Hat during his battle with the Basilisk, the monster of Slytherin. Voldemort, knowing this and being the heir to Slytherin, targeted them because he wanted to finish Salazar’s work and end the quibble that had arisen between the two Hogwarts founders.

To further confuse you, Neville is a parallel to Peter Pettigrew, as they both were tag-alongs to three more popular and powerful wizards in their year.

Ginny is a parallel to Lily, because they both have red hair and are at nature good people and physically beautiful.

Since Neville is a parallel to Pettigrew, and has shown interest in Ginny, who is in turn parallel to Lily, we think that Pettigrew was attracted to Lily.

Voldemort, knowing that Pettigrew had lusted for Lily, and had had his heart broken when James married her, got Pettigrew to unleash his hidden wrath towards James by betraying James and Harry’s whereabouts to Voldemort.

We know that Voldemort did not have any interest in murdering Lily until she got in the way of him killing Harry. He even told her, “Stand aside, silly girl!” Therefore, we know that he, being the heir of Slytherin, was only after the heirs of Gryffindor – James and Harry – and not Lily, who was just Lily.

So that is our theory as to why Voldemort wanted to murder Harry and James Potter.

teehee, gigglegiggle. bahahahahahahaa.

WE ARE BLOODY BRILLIANT!!!!!!

The best part of Harry Potter, for me, was always the research into myth and legend and supernaturalism that came after reading each new book, trying to fit every cleverly named character and spell into its place in the world that J.K. Rowling so lovingly created.  I don’t necessarily agree with all of the ways her lore tied itself up in the last book, but that’s part of its lasting appeal for me — last week, one of my best friends and I had a debate for about two hours about whether or not Harry really should have played the role he did in the final battle against Voldemort (*treading lightly for fear of spoiling*).

That series is just so smart.

What do you like best about your favorite book series?

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June 4, 2009

Yearning for Autumn

Filed under: Creative Writing, Nostalgia & Memories — Tags: , , , , , — admin @ 8:15 pm

I finally moved home, got mostly unpacked and settled in.  My refrigerator is still empty, but I’ve seen more friends in three days than I’d seen in my last three months in New York.

I can’t find Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone or Deathly Hallows, but all of my James Bond are on their shelf.

My long-awaited TV service only gets six channels, two of which are The Weather Channel and the Home Shopping Network.

But the sky is heavy and woolen like I remember, and the trains come by and remind me that there’s a world outside the window, and the cobblestone street looks the same as it has for a hundred years.  The sky keeps fooling me into thinking that it’s the eve of autumn, but it’s only June 3.

Trickery and lies, weather!  Trickery and lies!

I just keep waiting for the fall to come, but I also tend to be nostalgic this time of year for summers past.  I’ve never liked summer, really.  As a season, it’s ungodly hot and I don’t think the greenery and blue sky is pretty.  But there have been summers that I’ve loved, and I love the idea of summer.

Summer tends to make me idealize the suburbs in a weird way, like cookouts and catching fireflies and county carnivals and puppies and pool parties hidden behind white fences.  Bonfires under the stars.

I know that I don’t actually want any of that, but summer makes me miss it, sometimes.

I apologize for the shortness of my blogs lately… moving has made me flighty and restless and tired.

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April 6, 2009

Princess Rosalind and the Bag of Marbles, or My Seventh Grade Year

Filed under: Biliophilia!, Creative Writing, Nostalgia & Memories — Tags: , , , , , , — admin @ 7:23 pm

It hit me for the first time last night while I was talking to Liz that I am nine days away from finishing the manuscript for a five-hundred page novel.

A FREAKING NOVEL. I WROTE A NOVEL. I mean, this should be obvious, considering the fact that… well… I’m a writer… and the reason that this blog exists is because… I… wrote a novel…

[Hayley Anne Perkins has trailed off and wandered away awkwardly to make tea and wait for the crickets to stop chirping.]

But it didn’t really hit me that I have written a novel.

There’s still a LOT of work to do — revisions, and then another set of revisions, and then a target-demographic test reading (any volunteers?), and then probably more revisions… but still: I’ve written at least the skeleton and some obscure organs, like the spleen, of a novel for which I feel a lot of pride.

When I was in seventh grade, I wrote my first “novel.” I am exceedingly, exceedingly glad that the one publishing house that I sent it to rejected it (though kindly, because I was only twelve). It was called A Bag of Marbles and it makes absolutely no logical sense. It was A Grand Manifesto on the importance of racial tolerance (I was a white, suburban seventh grader in a white, suburban middle school) that used a lot of very stereotypical names and descriptions for its characterizations. There was a Grand Forbidden Love Story aspect that my parents had me cut, because it did sort of come out of nowhere.

It actually probably wasn’t that much worse than some recent bestsellers, but at any rate, I’m very glad that it doesn’t come up on Google if you search my name or anything.

The name came from this passage, which I still sort of vainly like, though I will never use –

She opened the bag and the marbles spilled out onto the floor. I could tell at first glance that these were really special marbles, and I could see why they’d cost $150. I reached down and picked up a clear, red marble with a golden dragon imbedded in the center.

“These are part of a special collection called ‘Around the World’,” she said, picking up a saffron-yellow marble with an ivory monkey, “That’s the China marble. I really like that one. Here,” she said, dropping the yellow marble in my hand, “This one is India.”

We lay on our stomachs, looking at the marbles. Their beauty astounded me. There was emerald green with a shamrock for Ireland and periwinkle blue with a marble Eiffel Tower for France. Japan was perfectly clear, like a crystal bubble, with a tiny, tiny, pink origami crane in its inner depths. Botswana was a rich, grassy green, with a small silver elephant inside that looked almost as though it had been born, not made. Every country had it’s [sic] own beautiful, unique marble. We sat in silence, just fingering the cool, shining, clear stones. I especially liked the Hungarian marble, which was paprika red with a pysanky egg (one of those intricately decorated, gorgeous Easter eggs) inside.

“I love how they’re all so different,” she said, “But they all go together perfectly. They mix, but you wouldn’t think so at first glance.”

Deep, man. Deep.

[Hayley Anne Perkins wanders away again, wondering if she's ruined her own chances in the writing world by posting the above passage of seventh-grade moralizing.]

As I was waiting for the response from the publisher on A Bag Of Marbles, I fell head over heels for a certain British book series that had recently been published in America, and started to plot out a seven-book YA fantasy series involving a lot of magic and mystical herbology and fantastic beasts and where to find them. But it starred a princess, so clearly, it was so like, totally not Harry Potter.

Princess Rosalind was very small and dark-haired and pale with bright blue eyes, thank you very much, so again: she was obviously not just the female, royal version of Harry Potter. She wanted to learn magic, but was not actually a witch, so her powers would be limited to potions (hence all of the bizarre herbology. Which actually just turned into a list of made-up edible herbs. Which just devolved into a menu [see "Om Nom Nom," 3 April 2009]).

Most of the magical herbs had names that I only later came to realize were just obscure real words that I had read somewhere or another, like “yardang” and “macrodont” and “geas.” The aforementioned Fantastic Beasts were very similar to Michael Scott’s idea of prehistoric religious beliefs on The Office:

Maybe there’s some sort of animal… that we could make a sacrifice to. Like a giant buffalo. Or some sort of monster… like… something… with the body of a walrus… with the head of a sea lion. Or something with the body of an egret… with the head of a meerkat. Or just… the head of a monkey, with the antlers of a reindeer, with, ah… the body of a porcupine.

I also spent so much time laying out chapter titles with Very Clever Puns or Clues To The Solution Of The Mystery in them that I forgot to actually figure out anything concrete about the plot, or the characters, or the mythos of this world that was really a lot like the Bristol Renaissance Faire, only with wizards.

There was also a character who had been in existence since the Big Bang, and took one hundred human years to age one year. She had lived forever, and could remember endless lifetimes and stories and languages.

I never named her, and I had actually forgotten that she existed until I began writing this blog tonight. But it’s interesting to see that the deformed sister of a germ of one good idea began in seventh grade.

Have you achieved anything lately that you’ve been working towards since childhood?

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March 27, 2009

MEME: Book Maven

Filed under: Biliophilia!, Friday Free-For-All, Memes! Surveys! Lists! — Tags: , , , , , , , , — admin @ 8:12 pm

Unashamedly stolen from e.lockhart.

1) What author do you own the most books by?
Either Meg Cabot or Marissa Moss.  It’s a toss-up between them.  As a kid, I owned by far the most books by Ann M. Martin.  I had the entire Baby-Sitters’ Club series up to #120, I believe, as well as all of the Baby-Sitter’s Little Sister books well into the #80’s.

2) What book do you own the most copies of?
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.  At Christmas this past year, though, I bequeathed my careworn original paperback to my Aunt Amy — every year, we have family Secret Santa (which we insist on calling a Grab-Bag?) based around obscure themes.  2008 was “consistencies,” and I got “sticky.”  I gave her some lip gloss she’ll never wear, a stack of Post-It! Notes, and my first-ever copy of Harry Potter, because it was the book that has most “stuck” with me through the years.  No word yet on whether or not she’ll be reading it, but she did tear up at the inscription.

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?
Yes.  But the internet is a little different when it comes to grammar.

4) What fictional character are you secretly in love with?
Well, as I said above: NOT Edward Cullen.  Not even a little bit.  Not any other Cullens, either.  Nor any Quileute shapeshifters-masquerading-as-werewolves.  I am however in love with Jack Dawson from Titanic and Jim Halpert fromThe Office (US).  In terms of books, a corner of my heart will always belong to Fred Weasley.  And Eli from Carolyn Macker’s LOVE & Other Four-Letter Words makes my heart pound.

5) What book have you read the most times in your life (excluding picture books read to children; i.e., Goodnight Moon does not count)?
Probably Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which I’ve read 196 times.  The bulk of that occurred in seventh grade, when there were only three Harry Potter books.

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?
Hmm… Bunnicula by James & Deborah Howe.  That’s a tough question, because I’ve very rarely ever had just one “favorite book” at any given time.

7) What is the worst book you’ve read in the past year?
Liz went on vacation for a week and left me to my own devices, which is never a good choice, because I ended up reading a certain book about mutant hybrid babies being born via fangsarian section, and when she came back, she had to use her mad psychology skillz to calm me down.  I’m very afraid of babies, in general.  This book did not help.

8 )  What is the best book you’ve read in the past year?
I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie by Pamela Des Barres.
9) If you could force everyone you tagged to read one book, what would it be?
It would be lame to say my own, especially since it’s not out, and well, I mean, how lame and pathetic and egotistical and selfish.  So in that case, I’ll say The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  There is really no book like it in terms of lush imagery or bleak hopefulness.10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for Literature?
I don’t really know what their qualifications are, but I would say Tony Kushner, for Angels in America, if scripts count.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?
Maybe it would be considered kiddie, but I’ve always, always wanted to see a movie of the Monster of the Month Club series by Dian Curtis Regan.  Although movies of books that I like tend to make me cry in despair (re: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire).

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?

They are filming it currently in Vancouver.  Outside of that, I think that any movie based on a Kerouac novel would be really dull, if very cinematic, because so much of them is internal monologue and realization.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.
I have these all the time!  They usually involve JK Rowling suddenly wanting to be my best friend and/or mentor.  Sometimes she also introduces me to Robert Pattinson as per Cedric Diggory.

14) What is the most lowbrow book you’ve read as an adult?
Hmm.  The Wheels of Darkness by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child (hey, Knox grads!  See anything amusing about their names?  I cracked up when I bought it).  It’s an Airport Book.  I always buy big, bestselling, moderately trashy paperbacks when I’m in airports.  That’s where I bought Twilight, too.  And Deception Point.

15) What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
I’ve read about 3/4 of Gravity’s Rainbow and half of Ulysses, but the most difficult writer I’ve read in entirety is Marcel Proust.

16) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you’ve seen?
Sadly, I have never learned to like Shakespeare.  I am a bit of a pleb in that way.

17) Do you prefer the French or the Russians?
At this point, I would say the French, but I do like Chekhov.  Honestly, in terms of classics, I prefer American works from the 20th Century — the expats, the Beats, the postmodernists.  The older classics have fallen prey to bad teachers, cliched pop culture allusion, and those girls who claim to be in luuuuuuurve with Mr. Darcy but actually just like Colin Firth, but who still look down on you if you are not also in luuurve with Mr. Darcy.  I severely dislike those girls.

18) Roth or Updike?
Stealing Emily’s answer for this one, though — “Men concerned with manly manly things.”

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?
Sedaris.  I have very fond middle school memories of listening to NPR late at night in December, hidden with my radio cradled in my lap under my blankets, headphones covering my ears, trying so hard not to laugh out loud at SantaLand Diaries.

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?
Milton.

21) Austen or Eliot?
Like I said above, I actually dislike this era of literature.  I’m going to defect and say Mary Shelley is one of the only Romantic female novelists that I like.

22) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?
I’ve never read 1984 or Animal Farm.

23) What is your favorite novel?

I’m not sure that I have a singular answer.  I can answer in collectives: Harry Potter or “YA fiction.”  I can answer for this week: The Westing Game, which I reread on Tuesday on my commute and still love.  I can answer by pretension, which would make it Dharma Bums.  I could also spout off The Boyfriend List and LOVE & Other Four-Letter Words and All-American Girl and The Kid Who Ran for President.  I have no favorite novel.
24) Play?
Either Angels in America or The Skriker.
25) Poem?
“The Window” by Diane DiPrima.

26) Essay?
“The Roaming Beatniks” by Jack Kerouac

27) Short Story?
“The Diamond as Big as the Ritz,” F. Scott Fitzgerald
28) Work of nonfiction?
I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie by Pamela Des Barres seeped through my bones, but Ryan White: My Own Story was the first written work to make me cry.29) Who is your favorite writer?
I can’t pick.  All those mentioned above thrill me.  Plus Jane & Michael Stern, for nonfiction, and I’m sure as soon as I post this I’ll remember about 20 others I should have listed.
30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?
This survey seems to be set up to entrap me.  We won’t go there.
31) What is your desert island book?
The Beatles Anthology.  It is both lengthy and extremely interesting, and there are pictures, which, on a desert island, would probably be very welcome.  Otherwise I might start thinking I was a parrot eventually.
32) And… what are you reading right now?
I reread The Westing Game, Monsters and My One True Love, Fly on the Wall: How One Girl Saw EVERYTHING, and Princess In Love this week.  I plan to pick up a copy of The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl this weekend, hopefully.  I’m in the middle of The Encyclopedia of Pop Culture.  And I read a lot of sundry fanfiction for various sundry things.—————–

My favorite poem:

The Window
Diane DiPrima

you are my bread
and the hairline noise
of my bones
you are almost
the sea

you are not stone
or molten sound
I think
you have no hands

this kind of bird flies backwards
and this love
breaks on a windowpane
where no light talks

this is not the time
for crossing tongues
(the sand here
never shifts)

I think
tomorrow
turned you with his toe
and you will
shine
and shine
unspent and underground

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