Thalia @ Pictures in the Words

I'm Thalia! I run a book blog called Pictures in the Words and I hope to be an editor for YA fiction. I'm a GoodReads refugee!



Currently Reading

The Martian
Andy Weir
Progress: 31/369 pages
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
J.R.R. Tolkien, Humphrey Carpenter
Progress: 193/432 pages
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
J.K. Rowling
Progress: 43/766 pages
The Children of Húrin
J.R.R. Tolkien, J.R.R. Tolkien
Progress: 313/313 pages
Dead Poets Society - N.H. Kleinbaum Once upon a time, there was a girl whose English teacher decided to show a film in class. At sixteen years old, she didn’t really feel the impact of the film–even though she laughed and even though she cried (but only a little, because nobody wants to cry in front of their classmates). But still–she liked the film. It was different. She enjoyed it. It was powerful.At seventeen, things happened. Events occurred that reflected events in the film. And in her grief and mourning, she recalled a film she had almost forgotten and realized that she needed to see it again. She needed to understand. She needed to know if she had changed. And when she rented it (even though her parents told her not to; even though they said it would hurt too much) and she watched it again, she realized she had changed. The film had become something dear–something she cherished more than she ever imagined. Because somehow, it became a testament to what she’d been through–just a little bit. She realized she, of course, wasn’t the first person to go through this. And as much as it hurt, and as much as she cried on her mother’s shoulder the whole way through, she felt better to know that somewhere out there, she wasn’t alone.At eighteen, she found a novelization of the film. It was short; she couldn’t help but expect the world of it. She didn’t mean to pin all these hopes on a hundred and sixty-six pages, but it couldn’t be helped. She read it in one sitting, because she wanted to devour every page. And…she kept hoping it would get better. But…it didn’t. It never did. It got worse. And so, at one in the morning when she had early church the next day, she sat down and tried to get the feelings out. The tears that she couldn’t even force herself to shed when she was reading; the aching, hollow emptiness that seemed to fill everything because it was so heartbreakingly terrible that there might not be words to describe it. But she was going to try.Okay, so maybe this is a really long introduction for what could be seen as an incredibly simple emotion–disappointment shouldn’t be all that hard to describe. I was disappointed by Clockwork Princess, and we all saw how difficult it was to put even that into words. But this? This is infinitely harder. Because I loved this film dearly–more dearly than maybe anything else I’ve ever seen, because I’ve lived through it. I’ve never known how a character felt better than these ones. And I wanted this book to be perfect, like the film was. But somehow, it fell short. I guess novelizations always do. But I didn’t expect Kleinbaum to completely destroy something I loved.And yet, here we are.Read more?