Beauty out of Brokenness

Hello blogosphere! It's been awhile.

I am oh-so-slowly coming back to the YA world in terms of writing and reading, and it feels oh-so-good to be back. But before my blog becomes a YA one again, I want to share a bit about where I've been and what I've been doing

I've spent the past month hanging out at drop-ins, after-school programs, and on the streets of Halifax as a participant in an Urban Partnership. If you're interested in our work, you can read a blog post about it here, or feel free to ask me about it.

The Urban Partnership team venturing through Halifax.

On our last day in Halifax, everyone on the Urban Partnership team presented a creative project that represented our month. We called the night Beauty out of Brokenness because we wanted the pieces to reflect where we see hope in Halifax.

I wrote a polyphonic piece, which means that I wrote a piece and then wove passages from other works into it. The program is a Christian one, so I included scripture in my piece, as well as passages from Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America by Mike Yankoski, a book about a university student who chose to live on the streets for five months to understand Jesus's heart for the homeless.

As I transition from my time in the Urban Partnership back into my normal life, I thought I'd share that transition by putting my Beauty out of Brokenness piece on the blog. Yankoski's words are in italics, scripture's words are in bold, and the rest of the words are mine.

Beauty out of Brokenness

The men I was meeting were at the bottom--the worst part of their lives--and weren't afraid to admit it.

It's a bit surprising when it happens.

But their ruin opened the way for honesty.

The conversation shifts from the polite, the easy, the questions of where are you from, what do you do, and isn't the food great, into something harder.

You are searching for honesty.

But still something better.

Pretending didn't help anymore, and anyway, they didn't have the strength to keep it up.

It comes as confessions of mistakes, ignorance, pretending. It comes as an admittance of exhaustion, love, hunger, joy, actually feeling something and actually telling people that you feel it.

Look at those who are honest. 

It's a challenge. It tells you that something--somehow, somewhere--something is wrong and that thing isn't being fixed, so what are you going to do? What are you, as one person, who can barely even process this, going to do to fix it?

The wise listen to others.

And that's easier, to listen. You hear the words, you retain them, but your reaction is of a different kind. It's not for you; it's encouraging them to continue.

They just told it as it was, when it was.

Because you're learning so much.

Speaking the truth from sincere hearts.

Their feelings become yours and you want that, you want to keep them, you want to feel this way again. You want to know this again because you realize, so clearly, that what's been presented to you is not a confession or challenge, not really. 

But this is what you must do: tell the truth to everyone.

I found that part of their ruin to be refreshing.

It's truth. And it's all that needs to be known.

Hiatus

It seems a little silly for me to post an official hiatus when I've blogged, what, twice in the last two months? But, I'm participating in a community outreach program from May 1st-31st, so I'll be gone from the blogosphere during that period. I also won't be on Twitter, Facebook, tumblr, etc.

So, I will see all of you in June!

Road Trip Wednesday: One More Time, We're Gonna Celebrate

Road Trip Wednesday is hosted by YA Highway

This Week's Topic: It's almost prom season, and since we love to read and write about teenagers, we want to hear your prom stories!

My prom memories are not about boys, but about friends.

I remember searching for a dress. At the time, I'd lived with only my dad and my brother for seven years; I didn't have a mom or sister to take me shopping. I ended up going with a couple of my friends and their moms on a Friday night, watching both of my friends find beautiful dresses, and finding nothing that fit me (dresses aren't designed for girls who are short from the waist up, everything sat far too high on me), let alone that I loved. Still, my friend and her mom took me out shopping all day on Saturday until I found the perfect dress. It was a long, frustrating process that they didn't have to go through with me, but they did and I appreciated more than I could ever express to them. And when we finally found the dress? I was so glad to share that moment with them. 

I missed my mom like nothing else the day of prom. The worst moment was when I was getting my hair done by a cranky hairdresser, watching all the other girls with their moms, and having her ask me if my mom was coming. I nearly cried. 

But then I went to that same friend's house to get ready together, her mom did my make-up, and I knew that even if I didn't have my mom, I had incredible women in my life. Then I went out to dinner with my friends, took pictures with them, and drove to our prom (held in our high-school gym, what a classy school we were) in a mini-van.

And it was awesome. 

I don't remember much about the dance itself, just that I had a lot of fun with the people who'd been there for me for the past three years. I do remember the last song, our grad song, "One More Time" by Daft Punk (again, classy school), and being so grateful that I had one last chance to celebrate with my friends.

I didn't have the magical prom you see in YA. It rained. The prom wasn't held in a fancy hall, and we certainly didn't go to it in a limo. I didn't have a moment with a boy; I didn't even have a date. I kicked off my heels within ten minutes of the prom beginning, around the time my hair fell flat. It didn't change my life.

But it did give me a chance to celebrate the life, the friends, and the role models I had throughout high school, one more time.

Road Trip Wednesday: Visual Inspiration

Road Trip Wednesday is hosted by YA Highway.

This Week's Topic: What images inspire/represent your WIP or favourite book?

I have been a terrible, terrible blogger lately, but what better way to ease myself into the blogosphere than to share a bit about my WIP, Finding Voice, through posting some pretty pictures?

I've done a couple of posts like this before for other WIPs, but this was, by far, the most difficult it's ever been to find pictures. So, I cheated. Theatre is a big part of Finding Voice, so I took a trip to Hipster Theatre Pictures and used some of their pictures with lines from musicals that inspired Finding Voice. The rest of the pictures are from weheartit.

Finding Voice is Arianna and Derek's story. Any guesses as to what that story is based on these pictures?

Book Review: The Fault in Our Stars - John Green

This review contains (very minor) spoilers. John Green really, really doesn't want you to read spoilers. It's, of course, your choice whether or not to read on, but keep that in mind.

My initial goodreads review of The Fault in Our Stars was written almost immediately after I finished the book, before I'd cleaned up the pile of tissues and chocolate that surrounded me. That review read:

Halfway through this, I wasn't impressed, and wondered what I was missing that everyone else was getting. A few pages later, I was crying. Make of that what you will.

I review with my heart. The way a book makes me feel will always be more important to me than how well it is written. The Fault in Our Stars kept me on my couch for hours because I was so invested in Hazel's story that I had to know what happened next, I had to know what to feel next because there were too many emotions to make sense of on my own. Green did a great job of guiding his readers through those emotions.

However, that only happened once Gus and Hazel got to Amsterdam; that was the first moment that made me care about the characters.

Prior to Amsterdam (and after it as well, though to a lesser extent), my biggest problem with The Fault in Or Stars was Augustus, who was as manic-pixie-dream-boy as they come.

But, Hazel's aware of that. She knows that Augustus is putting on a show, that he doesn't always know what he's talking about despite his pretentiousness, and she says it's harder to fall for him when he's like that as opposed to when he's honest. That's realistic, and had Hazel followed through on that, this would review would be much less critical.

The problem is that Hazel's aware that Augustus is fake, and yet she falls in love with him anyway. It was frustrating to read--I really like Hazel and thought she deserved better, frankly--and it was impossible for me to believe in their relationship. Of course, Augustus does have one significant, honest, beautiful moment towards the end of the book, and it's one of my favourite scenes. However, it was too-little-too-late for me; Hazel was already in love with him at that point, and I wanted to see more honesty from Augustus.

My other issue with the first half of The Fault in Our Stars  was that it was simply too slow--at times, it felt like a chore to read on. The encounter with Peter Van Houten was the first moment I was interested in the plot, as well as the first time I became invested in the characters.

Of course, the book had other nice moments. Issac's great, and I almost wish the book had been written from his perspective like Green considered. The scenes with Hazel and her parents are wonderful. The plot-twist actually shocked me (though I appear to be alone on that), which is always nice. Green's prose is funny, poignant, and solid, as it always is.

The Fault in Our Stars is a frustrating read, but a good one. It made me laugh and cry, and at the end of the day, that's what I want from a book.

Tagalong

Colin D. Smith tagged me in a blog-chain where I have to answer eleven questions, create eleven questions, and then tag eleven people to answer them. Here it goes!

1. Which fictional character would you love to invite over for dinner?

Peeta Mellark, because of reasons. We'd break bread together.

2. Think of one person you aren’t able to see for whatever reason (distance, availability, etc.) you would love to meet up with. Who is this person? This can be a famous person, a relative, a literary agent–anyone, as long as they are alive. Oh my gosh, I've met so many wonderful people on the internet that I would love to meet with, but I can't choose between them. Any of them would be my first choice, but if I have to pick one person, I'll go with Aaron Tveit so we could sing and dance together have an intelligent conversation about his Broadway career.

3. What "classic" novel do you think least deserves that title?

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. The beginning was ok, but the book became a pretentious mess that I'd argue lacks any real substance. 

4. If you could be any historical figure, who would that be and why?

The first person that came to mind was Letitia Youmans, the founder of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union in Canada. I realize it's an odd choice, but I find her and the organization fascinating, and even though I don't necessarily agree with prohibition, it would be so cool to be inside the head of a woman who was an advocate for both Christianity and women's rights.

4. Where in the world would you most like to visit, and why?

 I've always been infatuated with New York because of Broadway, the bright lights, big city appeal, and what's left of Bohemia. It's weird to say that's the place I'd most like to visit because it's so, you know, close, but it's a city I'm so drawn to.

5. If you were a crayon, what colour would be, and why?

Blue--contemplative, peaceful, quiet.

6. Let's pretend you have J.K. Rowling's bank account. What's for dinner tonight? I would fly back to Kazakhstan to have shashlik again. While I'm there, I'd have to treat myself to plof and beshbermak, too. 

7. Coke of Pepsi?

If I want regular pop, Pepsi, but if I want diet, Coke. 

8.Tea or Coffee?

Tea, absolutely. It's so much more fun than coffee! In a day, I can drink Earl Grey, Chai, and Pineapple tea. (Uh, not that I drink that much tea. Of course not.)

9. Think of your favourite band or song from the 1960s or 1970s. What/who is it?

"Hey Jude" by the Beatles for so many reasons.

10. When you get "the call" from an agent, who will be the first person you tell?

Probably my roommates, because they'd hear the squeal and want an explanation. The first person I'd call would be my dad. 

Here are my eleven questions!

1. What author's writing style do you most admire?

2. Favourite guilty pleasure food?

3. Favourite guilty pleasure TV show?

4. Who's your biggest fictional crush?

5. What's one thing no one in the blogosphere knows about you?

6. Favourite thing about your bookstore/library?

7. Describe your first novel in one word.

8. What song always makes you go, "This is my jam!"? 

9. If you had to give your favourite book a different title, what would it be?

10. Favourite board game?

11. Do you believe in life after love?

Instead of tagging eleven people, I'm going to leave my questions open for anyone to answer :) If you decide to answer them, leave a link in the comments, and I'll check it out. I'd love to hear what you have to say! 

Valentine to Writing

I'm participating in the Valentine's Day Blog Lovefest over at YA Highway. Check out all the other wonderful Valentine's posts by YA authors participating in the blogfest! :)

Valentine to Writing  

Writing,

So, hi. It's been awhile.

Look, I'm sorry. I know all the playlists, inspirational pictures, and hours spent reading The Fault in Our Stars won't make you come back. What you need is for me to open the Word document and spend some quality time with you. 

But you know, 2012 has kicked my butt. I've let it. Sometimes I forget that you're what makes me feel better through all of that.

Thanks for everything you've done. Thanks for bringing the right songs and people and settings and stories to me. It's helping, really--it'll just take a bit of time. 

And hey, it was fun when we hung out on Friday, even if it was only for 500 words. I haven't been that honest with anyone in awhile.

It may feel that way, but this isn't the end. We'll get back together and it'll be beautiful; we'll break-up and it'll be terrible--over and over again. Thanks for being with me when I need you to be, and for waiting for me when I need you to wait.

We'll come back from this.

Love,
Brianne