Monday, January 30, 2012

book review: Starlighter by Bryan Davis

I've been looking for new authors & new genres to read because I've read most of what is on my bookshelf & I'm always looking for new things. 
I came across this book while browsing through a Christian bookstore in Spokane, Washington a few weeks ago:


I hadn't read any of Bryan Davis' books before, but while doing a little research, I've noticed he has a sturdy following. Dragons of Starlight is not his first series, but it is newest. 

Starlighter is the first in the Dragons of Starlight series. It is very fast paced & well written. I started reading it the minute I got in the car after buying it & finished it the next morning--barely putting it down at all.

Jason Masters is a young warrior who doubts the existence of dragons. Tales swirl around of people being kidnapped by these dragons & taken to another world to be slaves, but most people chalk up the missing persons to the giant mountain bears that are known to take people prisoners before devouring them. 

When Jason's older brothers both leave to attempt to discover the dragons world, Jason is left in the position of bodyguard to the governor. He isn't in the position long before mysterious signs lead him to believe that the dragons really do exist. In the true manner of quests, Jason (the hero) gathers around him a group of people willing to brave the danger & help him on his way. 

Meanwhile, in the dragon world, Koren--a young slave--discovers that she has a gift. The dragons haven't seemed to notice her gift, or have they? Mystery surrounds her master. Is he a friend of the slaves or is he a true dragon through & through? Koren has to decipher the meaning behind all of his words. 

Once her gift is discovered by the dragons, she is moved to another house to serve another master. It is here that she learns of the existence of Jason & she escapes to try to help him & her friend that is in trouble with the dragons.

Again in the true manner of quests, people band together to help the hero & other main characters achieve their goals. In this case the goal is freedom for the slaves of the dragons. 

The books moves quickly, but it is not hard to follow. The stories of Jason & Koren are woven together very skillfully. When the stories finally intercept each other & join together the book is almost at its end. For those of us that hate cliff-hangers, the end of the book will be slightly frustrating. It is the first in the series & while the book finishes the first chapter of the story so to speak, I can't wait to find the next books & continue the story.

If you're even slightly interested in this book, I highly recommend it. I would also suggest that you check out Bryan Davis' website & his other books as well.

Chelsea

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Family.

It comes in two’s, three’s,
Four’s, five’s
Any number will do really.

In times of peace
Arguments arise within.
In times of battle
It presents a united front.

It gathers around
Dinner tables, living rooms,
Kitchens.

In times of sorrow
Comfort is given.
In times of joy
Laughter is shared.

It is family.
Family is five.
I love my five. 

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

"Fiery"

Yet another poem assignment for my Creative Writing class. I wrote this one last night while at the hospital with a friend.

"I did the dragon's will until you came;
Fiery,
Demonic, 
Yet tender.

"You came and loved me like he never could;
Fiery,
Completely,
Perfectly.

"His jealousy spread through every bronze scale;
Fiery,
Vengeful,
Ruining.

"You stood, protecting my fragility;
Fiery, 
Yet foolish.
I mourn you.

"I do the dragon's will until the end;
Fiery, 
Demonic, 
Yet tender."

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

"Glass Dreams" by me :)

Life brings scars, tears, heartbreak, and pain.
Too many breaks create a time of darkness.
I seclude myself in a box of glass;
Content to view the world through a window:
Watching humanity try their hand at love,
Enjoying their ignorant freedom

The day I saw you, I wanted freedom.
I wanted to risk more scars and pain.
I realized I needed your love
To bring light into my homemade darkness;
To shine through my dusty window;
To shatter my home of glass.

I pressed my face against the glass
Yearning for a mobile freedom,
So I could remove my viewing window.
I cared less about the probable pain;
I needed you to free me from this darkness,
To unshackle me with your love.

I tried to remember what it felt like to love,
As I watched you through the glass.
I struggled against the overwhelming darkness.
I believed in the possibility of freedom,
Determined to forget my love-incurred pain.
My breath created fog on the window.

I clung to my dream I saw out the window,
Dusting the cobwebs from my love.
I imagined a life with you without pain
Outside of my world of glass
Filled with the joys of a happy freedom.
I could not imagine any more darkness.

Never again would I live in darkness,
I knew you would see me through my window
Eagerly awaiting my freedom,
Ready to give you my love.
Never again would I live enclosed in glass;
No more would I cry tears of pain.

Agonizing—tears falling with pain; creeping back is the darkness.
My world will forever remain glass; I will always have my window
For you gave her your love; eternally crushing my hopes of freedom.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A Collection of Poems

"Dawn"
by Arthur Rimbaud
I embraced the summer dawn.
Nothing was stirring yet in front of the palaces. The water lay lifeless. Encamped shadows did not leave the woodland road. I stepped forth, arousing breaths alive and warm, and precious stones kept watch, and wings rose up without a sound.
My first enterprise was, in the path already filled with cool, pale glints, a flower that told me her name.
I laughed at the blond waterfall which tossed disheveled hair across the pines: on the silvery summit I espied the goddess.
Then, one by one, I lifted her veils. In the lanes waving my arms. On the plain, where I gave the cock notice of her coming. In the city, she fled among the steeples and domes, and, running like a beggar across the marble quays, I pursued her.
On the upper part of the road, near a grove of laurels, I surrounded her with her massed veils, and sensed somewhat her immeasurable body. Dawn and the child plunged to the bottom of the wood. 
When I awoke, it was noon.
(the original is in French, so here is a rough translation)
"Aube"
J'ai embrassé l'aube d'été.
Rien ne bougeait encore en face du palais. L'eau jeter sans vie. Campé ombres ne quittaient pas la route boisée. J'ai s'avança, suscitant respirations vivante et chaleureuse,et des pierres précieuses veillaient, et les ailes se levèrent sans bruit.
Ma première entreprise fut, dans le chemin déjà rempli de fraîcheur, des reflets pâles, une fleur qui me dit son nom.
J'ai ri à la cascade blonde échevelée, qui jeté à travers les pins: sur le sommet argentéj'avisai la déesse.
Puis, un par un, j'ai levé les voiles. Dans les ruelles en agitant les bras. Sur la plaine, où j'ai donné le préavis coq de sa venue. Dans la ville, elle a fui parmi les clochers et les dômes,et courant comme un mendiant à travers les quais de marbre, je l'ai poursuivi.
Sur la partie supérieure de la route, près d'un bosquet de lauriers, je l'ai entourée avecses voiles massés, et j'ai senti un peu son corps incommensurable. L'aube et l'enfantplongé au fond du bois.
Quand je me réveillai, il était midi.

"London"
by William Blake
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man, 
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.

How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.

But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born Infant's tear, 
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Sonnet 116
by William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
      If this be error and upon me proved,
      I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

"Weekdays"

This is a poem I wrote :)

Mondays, I stare at the sunrise,
Sparkling with a colorful grace.
Tuesdays, I gaze at the sunset,
Glowing with a radiant beauty.

Wednesdays, I hear the chuckling brook,
Tripping over hidden pebbles.
Thursdays, I listen to the wind,
Ruffling the feathers of the trees.

Fridays, I smell the baker’s work,
Cooking merrily on the stove.
Saturdays, I inhale the scents,
Wafting from the flower meadows.

Sundays, I sit in my old chair,
Thanking God for his lovely world.
Waiting for the next bright morning,
Bringing me back to the weekdays.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

"Hills Like White Elephants" by Ernest Hemingway

The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. The American and the girl with him sat at a table in the shade, outside the building. It was very hot and the express from Barcelona would come in forty minutes. It stopped at this junction for two minutes and went to Madrid.
‘What should we drink?’ the girl asked. She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.
‘It’s pretty hot,’ the man said.
‘Let’s drink beer.’
‘Dos cervezas,’ the man said into the curtain.
‘Big ones?’ a woman asked from the doorway.
‘Yes. Two big ones.’
The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pads. She put the felt pads and the beer glass on the table and looked at the man and the girl. The girl was looking off at the line of hills. They were white in the sun and the country was brown and dry.
‘They look like white elephants,’ she said.
‘I’ve never seen one,’ the man drank his beer.
‘No, you wouldn’t have.’
‘I might have,’ the man said. ‘Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove anything.’
The girl looked at the bead curtain. ‘They’ve painted something on it,’ she said. ‘What does it say?’
‘Anis del Toro. It’s a drink.’
‘Could we try it?’
The man called ‘Listen’ through the curtain. The woman came out from the bar.
‘Four reales.’ ‘We want two Anis del Toro.’
‘With water?’
‘Do you want it with water?’
‘I don’t know,’ the girl said. ‘Is it good with water?’
‘It’s all right.’
‘You want them with water?’ asked the woman.
‘Yes, with water.’
‘It tastes like liquorice,’ the girl said and put the glass down.
‘That’s the way with everything.’
‘Yes,’ said the girl. ‘Everything tastes of liquorice. Especially all the things you’ve waited so long for, like absinthe.’
‘Oh, cut it out.’
‘You started it,’ the girl said. ‘I was being amused. I was having a fine time.’
‘Well, let’s try and have a fine time.’
‘All right. I was trying. I said the mountains looked like white elephants. Wasn’t that bright?’
‘That was bright.’
‘I wanted to try this new drink. That’s all we do, isn’t it – look at things and try new drinks?’
‘I guess so.’
The girl looked across at the hills.
‘They’re lovely hills,’ she said. ‘They don’t really look like white elephants. I just meant the colouring of their skin through the trees.’
‘Should we have another drink?’
‘All right.’
The warm wind blew the bead curtain against the table.
‘The beer’s nice and cool,’ the man said.
‘It’s lovely,’ the girl said.
‘It’s really an awfully simple operation, Jig,’ the man said. ‘It’s not really an operation at all.’
The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.
‘I know you wouldn’t mind it, Jig. It’s really not anything. It’s just to let the air in.’
The girl did not say anything.
‘I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural.’
‘Then what will we do afterwards?’
‘We’ll be fine afterwards. Just like we were before.’
‘What makes you think so?’
‘That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.’
The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads.
‘And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.’
‘I know we will. Yon don’t have to be afraid. I’ve known lots of people that have done it.’
‘So have I,’ said the girl. ‘And afterwards they were all so happy.’
‘Well,’ the man said, ‘if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I wouldn’t have you do it if you didn’t want to. But I know it’s perfectly simple.’
‘And you really want to?’
‘I think it’s the best thing to do. But I don’t want you to do it if you don’t really want to.’
‘And if I do it you’ll be happy and things will be like they were and you’ll love me?’
‘I love you now. You know I love you.’
‘I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you’ll like it?’
‘I’ll love it. I love it now but I just can’t think about it. You know how I get when I worry.’
‘If I do it you won’t ever worry?’
‘I won’t worry about that because it’s perfectly simple.’
‘Then I’ll do it. Because I don’t care about me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t care about me.’
‘Well, I care about you.’
‘Oh, yes. But I don’t care about me. And I’ll do it and then everything will be fine.’
‘I don’t want you to do it if you feel that way.’
The girl stood up and walked to the end of the station. Across, on the other side, were fields of grain and trees along the banks of the Ebro. Far away, beyond the river, were mountains. The shadow of a cloud moved across the field of grain and she saw the river through the trees.
‘And we could have all this,’ she said. ‘And we could have everything and every day we make it more impossible.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said we could have everything.’
‘We can have everything.’
‘No, we can’t.’
‘We can have the whole world.’
‘No, we can’t.’
‘We can go everywhere.’
‘No, we can’t. It isn’t ours any more.’
‘It’s ours.’
‘No, it isn’t. And once they take it away, you never get it back.’
‘But they haven’t taken it away.’
‘We’ll wait and see.’
‘Come on back in the shade,’ he said. ‘You mustn’t feel that way.’
‘I don’t feel any way,’ the girl said. ‘I just know things.’
‘I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do -’
‘Nor that isn’t good for me,’ she said. ‘I know. Could we have another beer?’
‘All right. But you’ve got to realize – ‘
‘I realize,’ the girl said. ‘Can’t we maybe stop talking?’
They sat down at the table and the girl looked across at the hills on the dry side of the valley and the man looked at her and at the table.
‘You’ve got to realize,’ he said, ‘ that I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly willing to go through with it if it means anything to you.’
‘Doesn’t it mean anything to you? We could get along.’
‘Of course it does. But I don’t want anybody but you. I don’t want anyone else. And I know it’s perfectly simple.’
‘Yes, you know it’s perfectly simple.’
‘It’s all right for you to say that, but I do know it.’
‘Would you do something for me now?’
‘I’d do anything for you.’
‘Would you please please please please please please please stop talking?’
He did not say anything but looked at the bags against the wall of the station. There were labels on them from all the hotels where they had spent nights.
‘But I don’t want you to,’ he said, ‘I don’t care anything about it.’
‘I’ll scream,’ the girl siad.
The woman came out through the curtains with two glasses of beer and put them down on the damp felt pads. ‘The train comes in five minutes,’ she said.
‘What did she say?’ asked the girl.
‘That the train is coming in five minutes.’
The girl smiled brightly at the woman, to thank her.
‘I’d better take the bags over to the other side of the station,’ the man said. She smiled at him.
‘All right. Then come back and we’ll finish the beer.’
He picked up the two heavy bags and carried them around the station to the other tracks. He looked up the tracks but could not see the train. Coming back, he walked through the bar-room, where people waiting for the train were drinking. He drank an Anis at the bar and looked at the people. They were all waiting reasonably for the train. He went out through the bead curtain. She was sitting at the table and smiled at him.
‘Do you feel better?’ he asked.
‘I feel fine,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.’