Thursday, February 23, 2012

Journal #3 | Readers & Writers

What is the best book that you have read? Why do you consider this THE best book?
What are you currently reading? Do you like it? Why or why not? (This should not be a book that is being read for an assignment or class, but one that you have chosen to read.)
Are you an aspiring writer? Do you blog, journal, or write stories outside of class? What are they about? What inspires you to write? You may share a sample as part of your post.

I'm not really sure what the best book I have read is. There are so many. My current favorite would be Catching Fire from The Hunger Games. I think that it has an intriguing plot, it's got good detail and the characters are (somewhat) easy to relate to.
Currently, I am reading the book "The Bishop Goes to The University." I'm having a little difficulty getting into it, because it's a different genre than what I normally read. It's a mystery novel, and while I am a huge fan of Crime tv shows and things, reading them isn't the same thing to me. (Which is sort of weird...)
I love to write. It's one of my favorite things to do. I have a blog, but I don't write on it much anymore, and I write stories outside of class. Mostly I write fanfiction, because while it has more restrictions on the characters and things, it's the best way for me to get feedback on my writing because other people read it.
This is a short sample of something I wrote about rwo, maybe three months ago.
She couldn't help but smile as she walked down the side-walk of New York. The crisp autumn air was always a favorite of hers. She loved how it wasn't too cold, but it wasn't scorching hot. She loved the reds and oranges she saw on the trees lining certain areas of the city. It was by far one of her favorite times of the year.

She didn't walk to work often, only when there wasn't a case, the weather was nice, and she for some strange reason woke up in time to shower, make breakfast, and get herself ready for the day. Today was one of those days. She even, by some miracle, managed to get her dishes done.

She put her hands in the pockets of the black leather jacket she was wearing and let out a huff of air as she waited for the light to change so that she could cross the street. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that this is where she needed to be, what she needed to be doing. So why did she feel like she was doing wrong?

She looked up as she heard the shuffle of little feet stop beside her. She let out a light "hi" as the little blonde girl looked up at her with big blue eyes and a smile. She was wearing a pink knit sweater with dark blue jeans. Her hair was up in pigtails and she clung to her mothers hand. It reminded Kate of herself when she was little and would take walks with her mom. Except, she hardly ever wore pink. She wore blues and reds.

She crossed the street quickly, looking down at her feet as she did so. Stepping onto the curb, she pulled her phone out of the back pocket of the dark wash jeans she was wearing, unlocking it and reading the new text message she got. She rolled her eyes as she read it, it had become a habit of hers, even when no one can see that she's doing it. She locked her phone so as to not pocket-dial anyone, and put her hand back in the pockets of her jacket.

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