Best Books of 2018

Note: Not all the books I read have been published this year. When I say "best books" I purely mean what I bought, old or new books, and completely enjoyed reading this year.

2018 has been a weird year for me. I worked for most of it but through that I found myself not enjoying life. A new manager took over in my workplace and messed up my working life to the point of me leaving. Now, looking for a new job, I feel like this year hasn't quite existed. I look back, appalled at myself when I count the months it's been since I last saw a particular friend, or went to this place or that place. This year has flown by in a blink, filled by working days, sad days, happy moments and overall, a very externally unexciting 2018.

But my solace will always be books, and I read some incredible ones this past year.

I started my year off reading IF BIRDS FLY BACK, by Carlie Sorosiak, and my soul absolutely sang with it. I've never felt so seen by a book before I read this. I have such love for Carlie's writing style, the amazing characters I read about, and their hardships. Linny, the female protagonist, was a character I related to so much with her desire for films, scripts, and finding herself as well as her sister.

ALEX, APPROXIMATELY, by Jenn Bennett. If you know me, you know I will not shut up about Jenn Bennett's writing. I've read three of her YA contemporaries now, and ALEX, APPROXIMATELY, was just another addition to the love I have for her books. It's such a fun, exciting read, with fresh plot-lines and characters. If you're a fan of a contemporary centered around the protagonist moving towns and finding a new life, love, and goals, this is for you! (Bonus: film-fanatic characters!)

SONG OF THE CURRENT, by Sarah Tolcser. As far as debut novels go, this was incredible. A novel set on a river? With a whole community of river-people? And sailors? With a headstrong female protagonist at it's helm? And a stowaway character who becomes her love interest? I was SOLD. Sarah Tolcser's descriptions of the rivers, boats, and how Caro's world revolves around the river-folk is wonderfully done. I was so hooked!

LETTERS TO THE LOST, by Brigid Kemmerer. I read this in June; at this point, I'd read extremely disappointing contemporary reads. I hadn't a read a good one since Alex, Approximately, in January. This is a book where the main connection is virtual communication. It's the classic trope of "we talk through screens but oh no, you're the school's bad boy in real life and you'd never look twice at me--but oh, you have" and I'm a massive sucker for that. I was completely invested in this novel and even though a lot of people have reasons to dislike this trope, it's done so well. There are amazing heartwarming moments in this, as well as shocking plot twists!

THE STAR-TOUCHED QUEEN, by Roshani Chokski. This is the Hades/Persephone/legendary story I've been waiting for! It has riddles, magic, portals, plot-twists, myths and culture - what more could you want in a fantasy book? This story pulled me in from it's first word, and I found myself hating myself for not reading it sooner.

TO KILL A KINGDOM, by Alexandra Christo. Again, another watery debut that I absolutely dived right into. This is The Little Mermaid with a better twist. The main protagonist, Lira, is a siren, tasked with taking a prince's heart--but she ends up falling for that heart instead. And the prince is also a pirate with a brilliant crew and determination to better himself. Deadly, dangerous, and magical, this is definitely a debut from an author I look forward to reading more from.

THE HATE U GIVE, by Angie Thomas. I was slow getting to this. I knew how emotionally-fuelled it was, how big a deal it was, and I had to be mentally prepared to read that. But once I read it, I devoured it, and then never shut up about it. Every day, I updated my mum on the story even as she got lost in my terrible verbal explanations (because we all know I can't speak), and happily sat for hours on my days off work just taking everything in. This is a hard, honest, raw book to read--one I think everyone of any age, genre-preference, or mentality should read.

ONLY LOVE CAN BREAK YOUR HEART, by Katherine Webber. Katherine is another contemporary author whose book I would buy in a heartbeat. I would read her shopping list. Reading Wing Jones last year felt like a breath of fresh air. All Katherine's books have this sense of self to it, like the book whispers find yourself, know who you are. Indeed, every time I finish her books, whether it's a reread or new story, I assess myself and find something a little brighter each time. I try to look for the positive things in me rather than dwell on the negatives. But even when I find the negatives, somehow they seem a little less potent. My heart sings for Katherine Webber's words.

UNDER ROSE-TAINTED SKIES, by Louise Gornall. HI, ALL, THIS WAS PROBABLY THE MOST IMPORTANT BOOK I READ THIS YEAR. When I say important, I mean in a very personal way. This was a book my mental health needed to know existed, a book I read more as a guide than a story, and felt more confident for it. A Young Adult contemporary about a protagonist suffering with agoraphobia to the point of never leaving her house is something I related to. This year, I could count on only one lot of two hands how many times I left my house for social plans. Every other time was for work, and even then, I wanted to curl up and never leave my room. This book felt like a hand to hold, a murmur in my ear that I was okay, that recovery is out there; support is out there.

STATE OF SORROW, by Melinda Salisbury. Politics! Lost siblings! Courts! Warring countries! This is a beautiful read, full of colour, education, intrigue, and the politics behind a country. So different to her Sin-Eater's Daughter trilogy, Melinda Salisbury brought a new angle to Young Adult with this amazing book.

STARRY EYES, by Jenn Bennett. My year was blessed to read TWO novels by her this year. This story completely took my breath away. It made me think a little deeper, want to explore a little further (when I can), and know that not all is at it seems. Set on a camping trip that goes wrong, the two love interests (formerly best friends) are forced to reconsider their past and wonder why they never worked out.

KINGDOM OF ASH, by Sarah J. Maas. My brain is still broken from reading this back in October. This book was Big for me. It was what I labelled as a Life Checkpoint (an entirely different mental health story) and I was blown away by the conclusion SJM gave. It did not disappoint, and when I finished that last page, the end to a series I've been with for five years, I sobbed for a good hour and more. I will forever be thankful for what Sarah J. Maas has given me through her books.

LEGENDARY, by Stephanie Garber. I cannot hype this book up enough! It's a fresh take on YA fantasy. Playing cards, a maze, a game, old gods, MAGIC. I adored Tella and Scarlett and how different they are. Scarlett, the level-headed thinker; Tella, the head-strong player. In the end, both sisters end up playing games of their own, tailored to them. Legendary is the second installment in a trilogy that ends next year, and I'M NOT READY.

_____

To name a few! And most importantly, I hit my Goodreads Reading Challenge for the first time! I'm looking forward to reading so many more uplifting, inspiring books in 2019!

What is Christmas Worth? (A Christmas Short).

Alex woke to a blur of colour, flashing lights, and something scratchy on his face. For a second, he stared outward, letting his eyes adjust. He remained lying down, letting the cold seep into his skin where his pyjama top had ridden up in sleep.

And then it came.

Squealing and shouting, light bickering downstairs already, the sound of greetings. He closed his eyes, taking it all in, and smiled to himself. Then his eyes flew open, registering the difference in his room.

The lights, the scratchiness—turning out to be tinsel, he found, as he sat upright—hadn’t been there yesterday evening when he’d left the house. His bedroom flew open and a young girl with red bows already in her long black hair, dressed in a pale blue nightgown, darted in.

“Alex!” she cried, rushing around his room before he reached out to stop her, grinning. “Do you like it?”

By it, he knew she meant the decoration. He’d been out late visiting friends the night before and his habit of stumbling to his bed in the dark had long set. He hadn’t noticed it then. But now… The little decorated fibre-optic tree—the baubles and tinsel pink—with an angel at the top; the fairy lights running the perimeter of his ceiling; the extra garlands of tinsel draped over every surface she had found.

Sliding out of bed, Alex leaned down and scooped his sister, Rose, in his arms. At only the age of five, she still possessed the magic of Christmas. She still had years yet until all of it died out. For now, that fire of belief blazed brightly. For now, she maintained her part of the Tesley Christmas routine.

“Are Mum and Dad arguing again?” he asked her, sighing dramatically, emphasising his words. “Again?”

Eyes downcast, Rose nodded. She didn’t know it wasn’t a real argument; it had no fire or anger behind it. His parents had come from very different Christmas traditions and despite spending many together now, they still hadn’t found harmony. Rose didn’t know it was only over whether the dinner should be prepped now, or if presents for three children was the first priority.

Alex set Rose down, patting her shoulder. “Go cheer them up, okay? I think everyone could do with a bit of your joy.”

She grinned up at him, one of her teeth missing. She hadn’t put it under her pillow yet; she hadn’t wanted to overshadow Santa by inviting the Tooth Fairy. Her tooth was in a jar, safely waiting for the festive season to be over, before she slipped it beneath her pillow. Watching her bound down the stairs, Alex smiled at the heaps of joy and happiness still living in his little sister. Once her squeals entered the kitchen and he heard the bicker break off, Alex turned towards his other sister.

Triss stood in her own doorway, a bemused smile on her face. “I helped her decorate my room, Al. I helped her. Have you seen it? My room looks like Santa’s goddamn grotto.”

“That’s love, Triss. She loves you the most,” Alex couldn’t help but answer with a smile.

“Oh, really? She spent the entire time talking about all her new ideas for your room.”

Plucking a line of pink tinsel from the inside of his shirt, Alex grimaced. “Maybe I get some extra big brother love.”

Triss laughed quietly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to the calls of Rose. She screamed about Santa, and look, Triss! He came for you even though you’re old!

Alex nudged Triss, laughing. “Old,” he said.

“Shut up,” she countered, shoving him into the kitchen whilst she sauntered into the living room. Indeed, when he poked his head to see, a pile of presents for Rose, the little girl sat right in the middle of the mound with a grin on her face.

And because he was nineteen and could ask these sorts of things, he looked to his mum—already in her work uniform—and said, “Seriously?”

A blush spread over her cheeks as she shifted under his question. “Santa needed to come through this year.”

Then a curse cut through the kitchen and Alex looked at his dad, already in a three-piece suit, as he always attempted to maintain on Christmas Day. The suit never lasted more than an hour.

This was the Tesley Christmas, as Alex had known it for the past few years: his dad, always spilling coffee on his tie, complaining about changing, but always coming down in the pyjamas Rose left for him on the bed. The crafty little girl had caught on, waited for the bickering to start, and then snuck into their parents’ room to provide a change of clothes. His mum, working early, coming home mid-afternoon, and falling into the pace of the day like she hadn’t missed all the present-opening. Triss, always on her phone to wish her many friends and followers a Merry Christmas. Alex himself, who fretted over Christmas and what he’d bought for his sisters, comparing the gifts he’d bought to everyone else’s. And then Rose, the most unburdened of them all. All she ever complained about was ripping wrapping paper even when their dad encouraged her to tear it all off. That was part of the excitement.

Still, Alex knew things had been different this year. His mum hadn’t had her usual full-time hours; his dad had picked up overtime far beyond humane levels, so the presents not only for Rose but set out for Alex and Triss was a wonder.

A stab of guilt hit him, unbidden and recurring each year.

“Alex,” his mum said, a warning in her voice. “Don’t.”

Don’t worry over money? Now that he was old enough to be more aware? Don’t feel guilty? Don’t feel bad for not being able to give better gifts because he earned a low wage? Don’t, don’t, don’t.

A hand on his shoulder cut his thoughts off. The smell of coffee and cologne swirled together as Alex looked up at his dad. They resembled each other the most, and he found comfort in that, somehow.

“Let’s go see what monstrosities Rose got me to wear this year, shall we?” His dad said, ever the lifeline. His dad, always there to diffuse his mum’s worry-brain, the only thing Alex had inherited from her. Before his dad pulled him from the kitchen, he turned to his mum.

“What time are you leaving?”

Her own brand of guilt flashed across her face. “I’ve set aside particular gifts each for you all to open that I want to see,” she said. “Then I’ll leave.”

Alex looked over her uniform, hating that she couldn’t decline a Christmas Day shift. Yet after the money vacuum Christmas was, she would need all the pay she could get. Alex hated this part of Christmas: the part that came with each year of growing up. Each year giving him more awareness of the behind-the-scenes of Christmas Day.

Still, one look at his sister’s joyful face, that dark cloud broke. He couldn’t help but be brought into her happy orbit.

His dad pulled him along. “So do we think it’s pale blue fluffy pyjamas again, with little clouds on, or do you think she’s gone for a more considerate approach of plaid patterns?”

   

“It’s Rose,” Alex scoffed, “Of course they’re pale blue and fluffy.”

*

In the end, Rose’s three presents set out was a massive unicorn stuffed toy, a Minnie Mouse mirror-and-table set, and a new hairstyling doll.

Triss opened a new planner with so many sections she spent ten minutes going through it all, money for driving lessons, and a new scarf.

And Alex’s was—

He tore off the wrapping paper, stared down at the gift in his lap before looking at his mum. He knew time was tight and she had to go as soon as possible but he couldn’t tell himself to stop. His fingers were numb, holding the piece of paper. Tears shined in his mum’s eyes as his dad looked on with pride.

Alex’s chest tightened as he considered the gift. And then couldn’t help the tears falling down his face.

“What…” he whispered, unable to speak clearly.

“What is it?” Rose called impatiently. She had more presents to open; what was the delay? Clambering over Triss’s lap to reach his side, Rose peered down and audibly tried to read the boldest word.

But Alex knew everything it said—and everything it meant.

“You’ve been talking about it for so long,” his mum said, her voice soft with emotion. “And you’ve been working so hard at your job. We thought we’d help you along.”

In his hands, he held a plane ticket to China. He’d wanted to complete a year at a top culinary school over there next year but even with the funds from his job, he hadn’t been able to afford the travel. And now…

Alex couldn’t breathe evenly enough as he stumbled over to his parents and collapsed into his mum’s arms. After a second, he felt his dad come around to hug him tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his mum’s shoulder. “Thank you both.”

And although that wave of guilt tried to overtake him, he shoved it back. This wasn’t a gift to feel guilty over—this was a gift to be endlessly grateful for. Alex thought of all the nights Rose had spent crying in his room, asking for her dad to read her a bedtime story but he’d been working. He thought of the days he’d seen his mum bit her nails right down when she was declined shift after shift request. And then they’d stuck her with Christmas Day, of all days.

Alex sobbed harder, holding his parents tighter. He wouldn’t have to forfeit anymore. He could progress, better himself, he could—

“What else did you get?” Rose asked, looking around. She still had more presents, as did Triss, but that small piece of paper that meant more than it’s size was all that was in Alex’s corner. And he couldn’t care less.

“I have more than enough,” Alex said softly.

“But Santa didn’t get you more things!” Rose cried, looking up sadly. So Alex sat next to her, showing her the plane ticket.

“See this? This is worth everything to me. This is all I wanted to open, Rose. Santa knew I didn’t need lots of presents this year, only this one.” He caught his dad’s fond expression as he watched them both. Rose, with her wide, imploring eyes; Alex, unable to properly convey what this meant to him.

“Why does Santa want to send you away?” Rose asked, pouting.

Alex pulled her to his side, hugging her tightly. “Because he knows you love me enough to be right here in your heart and mind.”

Whether his little sister understood, he didn’t care. He wanted to teach her that it wasn’t always the amount of presents visually but rather the thought and quality behind them. One plane ticket could be worth more than ten of Rose’s gifts.

He looked around his family, wanting a better New Year for them all. Triss, about to embark on her Master’s degree; Rose, conquering her class and proving she, too, had her dad and elder sister’s academia even at a young age; his mum, finding a new job with better hours; his dad finally realising that love was worth more than money earned.

And Alex… He could go to China, get the education he wanted, and know that when he returned, his family would be waiting.

           

           

A Christmas For Me

As an agoraphobic, Christmas can be daunting. Christmas markets, busy shops, needing to actually leave my house, shopping for presents, cards, and food. There is family to see (which I am actually okay with), there are friends to visit who want to make early festive dinners, as well as general festive activities.

So how do I cope? I stick on a smile, tell myself I'll disappoint others if I don't participate, and go to these things and hope I'll start enjoying myself. Honestly, I end up fairly enjoying myself. My social batteries become drained and charged over and over, which is a tiring process, but that's what happens when you force yourself to go out!

2018's Christmas has been a highly anticipated event in my brain. Since October, I convinced myself I would be better this year. I'd go to the Christmas markets, do clothes/present shopping properly, not fear those busy shops, I'd have lunch at the Cosy Club with my sister. But that's the thing about hindsight: you can plan all these great things because you don't have to face them yet. When that time comes, the anxiety creeps in, whispers in your mind that you can't do it because Whatifwhatifwhatif.

Last year, I celebrated Christmas with a job. I worked on Christmas Eve (complete with a festive jumper), and had Christmas Day off. This year, I don't have that since I quit and got myself away from a toxic work environment. Last year saw my family waiting on contact from someone after a massive bust-up (it never came). Christmas has always been a quiet, close affair in my house but somehow, with each year, it seems a little quieter. Still, my sister, the practical Christmas fairy, brightens the place up. My mum and I smile a little brighter for her sake until those smiles become more genuine. My grandad enjoys his food, his drink, and the company.

Between us all this year, we've kicked out friends, boyfriends, partners, family members, and gained some other special people, whether they're a person to show up, or a message on a phone. Christmas is the time where it truly shows who matters to us. It's who you remember cards for, remember to wrap gifts for, remember to pass on well-wishes for a good new year. Recently, I kind of lost a dear friend to me and I know I'll be thinking of her at Christmas and hope that one day, we can find our way back to a healthy friendship. I'll be thinking of a lot of people I've lost over the years, through different means, but mostly, I'll be focused on those who stay. Those who show their love without boundaries. Those who care and take the time for me.

I write this as I've just realised a present for a special person won't arrive; I've hastily bought last-minute gifts for my sister and Mum because I've had a complex this year that nothing I buy feels good enough to give. It's not enough. Tonight, I'll be assisting my family in the Big Food Shop, as well as buying finishing presents to complete various gifts.

And in three days, I'll wake up with my mum and sister on Christmas morning, spend a moment to wish everyone I've lost well in my mind, and then I need to focus on the present. Those there, those who want to be there. I may not have participated in any Christmas activities this year but at the end of the day, I have people who understand I don't always feel up to it. I can't always contemplate travelling into town, or walking around it. As I look into the looming 2019, all I wish for is to find my own courage and bravery once more. The courage to live a life I want, the bravery to find myself once more.

I'll be posting 1-2 more blogs before the year is up but for now, Merry Christmas to you all! I hope you all get what you wish out of the festive season this year.

TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN - Review

Author: John Green

Star Rating: 4*

Goodreads Link

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve read a John Green novel. I’m sure my last read of his was Paper Towns, back in 2015. I have a habit of falling a little behind when it comes to his newest novels. TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN was a hyped book I had been eager to read for months, waiting for the UK paperback to come out.

And I was not disappointed, as John Green has never disappointed with his books. TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN has the accurate anxiety representation I needed, and wanted, to read. It has the spiral-thoughts process, the overthinking, the worry, the rift it can cause in friendships. And he has a way of threading this through a story without making the anxious protagonist go pity-party or become annoying through her thoughts.

Aza is the paranoid overthinker I needed to read about at this current time in my life. She spends half the book wondering if a kiss could give her C-diff, or if a tiny cut will become infected and kill her. I’ve never related so hard with a character in a while. When she and her best friend embark on a mission to find Aza’s (kind of) boyfriend’s runaway billionaire father, Aza soon finds she’s not just in it for the monetary reward. As Aza and Davis grow closer, Aza’s anxiety pulls her deeper into dangerous depths as she starts to consider all that comes with relationships.

Reading this book felt like a safety blanket, of sorts. As an anxious thinker, and as someone who panics over a scratch, as someone who shares very similar thought-patterns to Aza, reading this book was pure comfort. It made me feel a little less crazy and alone.

There’s a part in the book that every anxious friend worries about: their worth and impact on others’ lives. Aza and her best friend have a massive argument centred around Aza’s anxiety and personality. Daisy makes Aza the villain when in actuality, she’s the victim of her own mental health. It was hard to read in all its painful truth, and things Daisy says can really be taken to heart and applied to more than just characters on a page. Aza finds it in her to forgive both her friend and herself—a thing I wouldn’t be entirely sure I could do so quickly. It’s not everyday you can go back to normal with a friend who calls you exhausting to be around.

TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN shows the darkest moments of compulsive thoughts and anxiety, but it also shows that in rare moments, all of that can be overcome and light can crack through the storm of spiral thoughts. Davis, a deep thinker, is the perfect balance to Aza’s own thoughts, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading all the thought processes that go on in this novel. It’s definitely on my reread pile.

Shane's Book of the Month - November

November was a strange month for me. I quit my job I'd been at for eleven months. I had an abundance of hospital appointments. I kept thinking Christmas was a week away rather than a whole month. I didn't quite know what day of the week it was.

I only read two books in November, and I adored them both. I took my time with each, absorbing the story in short sittings, unable to rush through any of the stories told.

1. Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas

2. Turtles All the Way Down by John Green

And my Book of the Month is KINGDOM OF ASH.

The Throne of Glass series holds a very special place in my heart. I've been with it for five years--five very long turbulent years--and that's why I had to choose it. I've never been able to pitch fantasy and contemporary YA books against each other but I'm doing a review on TURTLES very soon!

So. The final, epic book to conclude an eight-book series. KINGDOM OF ASH broke me apart and put me together with each paragraph. Each day and emotion and character told in the story filled my heart with both joy and dread. Every page felt like a ticking time bomb, wondering who would make it to the end. I had my own thoughts of who wouldn't survive, and none of that happened.

What did happen was how much I got taken off-guard with the book Sarah gave us for this brilliant final battle.

Spanning over several countries, groups, and missions, KINGDOM OF ASH shows five different armies, all fighting in their own way. My favourite, by far, was reading about Manon and her Thirteen. Yes, I wanted to know if Aelin survived the ending she got in EMPIRE OF STORMS and that broke me in ways I can never describe about a fictional character, but I adore Manon Blackbeak. Her story is so important, so moving. I can talk for days and days about Aelin's character growth but to talk about Manon is such an under-appreciated thing in this fandom. Manon is my favourite female in the series and she played a very integral part in the conclusion. So when her own tragedies befell her in the book, I wept and wept. Manon fought for everything with all she possessed and both lost and won it all.

The past eight books (including the two spin-off novella stories of ASSASSIN'S BLADE and TOWER OF DAWN) have taught me so much. Each character represented a trait I wished I could adopt for myself. The books have taught me strength, openness, fierce loyalty, determination, and how to keep hold of a thought--a concept--when you can't put it into action. Aelin suffered in darkness, knowing what she fought for even if it wasn't in reach, and that taught me a great deal. The Cadre, the Thirteen, the Original Three, the Bane, and the Rebels all brought so much joy and pain. A clash of light and darkness, KINGDOM OF ASH was truly the final book I wanted, and more.

It's hard to let go of something that's been there through so much and yet I have. The Throne of Glass series feels like a friend I can let go of, a friend I can look back on fondly after having learnt a great deal from. I read THRONE OF GLASS back in August 2013, when I was still in high school. Two months prior, everything had come out in the open about a bad place I was in back then. I needed putting back together after what felt like my entire life had unravelled. What I struggled with back then was a release for me, a bad coping mechanism when the world was too painful and loud. It only silenced when I fell into THRONE OF GLASS. Since, I've made and lost best friends, I've harbored unrequited love, I've studied in college and finished with a decent grade, tried my hand at university, got different jobs, been home-bound due to anxiety and mental health. I've seen beautiful countries, seen a million sunsets, and felt so much it's overwhelming.

Not only did finishing this series put to rest those characters but it forced me to reflect on myself. I don't feel as though I've grown as a person or become a better me at all, but to look back and smile at all these years, brought me to tears. It made me breakdown in a very strange way.

I will always be grateful and loving towards this gift Sarah J. Maas has given me.

A New Blog Set-Up

It's come to my attention that I like blogging but I don't do it very much. A lot of attributes to that is sitting at my laptop, pondering what I'm writing, and thinking, "Do you people really care?"

Here's the answer:

They might not but I can still write out into the world anyway.

I could be the best writer, or the worst writer, and people still may not care. Why? They might genuinely not care what I'm reading/thinking/writing, or they just don't have the time. Which is all fine! I just felt like that kept hindering my motivation to blog as much as I'd like.

Looking back on past book reviews, I saw a lack of structure. A lack of discipline to how I wrote them. For one, they were going on about three-four pages long. Nobody wants to read a review that long, I imagine, unless they are genuinely interested.

For now, I want to write a book review at least once a month, starting this month. On top of that, I'll be doing Shane's Book of the Month. I might review other things but for now, I'm sticking to what I know in books. I'll also be editing some of past reviews so look out for them! The BotM will be posted on the last day of the month (save for November's, which is going up today), and any reviews will be a Sunday!

If you have anything in particular you'd like to see me write about, holler at me over at @ShaneDReid or email me at shanedorian98@gmail.com!

Who We Are

That title is not only for this blog post, but it's also the current working title of my (what was) SAVING PAIGES rewrite. Switch the arrangement around and you get Who Are We?

My new rewrite is about delving into yourself, looking for those dark corners and how they affect your life. It's about everything a person is in their entirety; the good, the bad, the recovering, the sensitivity. In it, a strong friendship crumbles because neither person can confide in the other about who they really are. Or, rather, one is very honest in all her flaws and the other can't speak a thought unless it is clear to them. When it fails to become clear, they harbor the bad feelings, causing a rift in the friendship. As I've mentioned, this story of the friends comes from a personal place, but this story is also prompting me to look inside myself as a person.

Here is the answer that I've found: I do not know who I am, what I like, how I write. I'm composed of everything around me and not just in the casual inspiration sort of way. Sometimes, when I'm shopping, I've tried to adopt other people's personalities into my own that I don't even know what I like. I'll cut my hair because some famous Instagram girl has, and then I'll spend months growing it out because another account has done so. Everything is so jumbled up in this brain.

I have a favourite kpop group called BTS and they launched a UNICEF campaign about Loving Yourself, released an album about self love and I, a person who has never been content with any aspect of myself, felt like I could benefit from that sort of concept. But then it occured to me in the deepest of guilt waves over this last week: I cannot love myself because I don't know who I am. Even in the smallest writing senses of adopting the writing style of whatever book I last read, I alter my style. Somehow, it never feels like growth. It feels like I'm lost in wanting to be everyone around me because I don't enjoy any remnants of myself that's left.

I had a Thing with my friend this last week, involving how a lot of myself has come from her. A little beyond inspiration. It's became a heavy, unhealthy dependence that I could never open up about. It only came to light when what I was doing got to her so much that she had to make me aware that she knew. This last week I've been trying to work out how to deal with the guilt of copying another person's look, often trying to mirror it, and how that affects them. I haven't worked that out yet, but each time I glance at my reflection now, I keep wondering how the hell I am because I don't know. I've lost myself so wholly that I don't even know my favourite colour is anymore. I wear pink because others that I admire wear pink when I don't even like the colour all that much. I wear hooped earrings now because it fits an aesthetic I want but don't own when, for years, I laughed at people for having hoops hanging out their earlobes.

About a year ago, I threw out a lot of old clothes, reminders of how I failed to know how to compose my appearance. During that time, I got a lot of comments about things I couldn't necessarily change, or wasn't ready to. I took those comments on-board to an unhealthy degree and began to think, "If I look like the people making these comments, how can I go wrong?" I took large snippets of my friends' looks--even people I don't know on Instagram, I will obsessively search to find the same aesthetic that they own and I just look silly copying--buried everything I was, and tried to rebirth myself, as such.

In a sense, it worked. I got more compliments from people who didn't know what I was doing, the fraud I felt like. I tried to make every look I did my own, tried to pass it off as my original when it wasn't. It was always a copy, and again, not in a harmless inspired way. I was going to unhealthy extremes to copy off someone's outfit, their makeup design, generally making every time I looked at something toxic.

Writing WHO WE ARE is forcing me to do a lot of self-reflection, to forgive my broken brain for not ever being happy with everything Bryony (and Shane) Reid is. It's forcing me to accept recovery, to style my hair in a particular way because I like it, and not veer towards another style because it's what someone else sports. When I write contemporary stories, it's always to work through a personal issue. When I began this story, I thought it was to get over the heartbreak a friendship brought. Now, I've realised it might be to get over myself. To get over this constant lack of "not good enough" feeling I have. Why am I, in myself, not good enough for me? I don't know why my mind thinks I'm not good enough until I look like someone else, until I adopt their mannerisms and ways and speech. That's my own issue and I need to stop putting it on others and causing them to form problems through it, because I have.

WHO WE ARE is a book that highlights the differences between friends and how those differences can exist in harmony until they become toxic. I am trying to rediscover my differences and embrace them once more rather than try to fit myself into moulds already taken shape. Moulds that aren't mine to fill. In this story, there are several important characters: there's Nina, who is suffering. There's Beth, who has suffered, still suffers when the bad hits, but helps Nina find the brighter side. There's Simon, who has recovered and endures the occasional knock-backs but he tries to simplify everything when Nina's anxious brain spirals it out of proportion. She has irrational thinking: she's upset her friend once and Oh, God, her friend is going to leave her forever. She makes one mistake in an assignment: wow! She is going to fail college! That sort of thing. WHO WE ARE is the emotional journey of Nina rationalising her thoughts and growing emotionally as a person and accepting herself for being different to her best friend.

I'm not entirely sure when it will be published as I'm still self-publishing this story, but I can't wait to share it with you all, and hopefully come out as a better person on the other end. <3

What's Happening With Shane's* Book?

* Shane is the social media writing name I prefer, although I will be publishing under the name Bryony Reid due to further recognition.

It's been an AGE since I've posted on here. I thought I'd reinvent my blogger presence by updating on my writing life over the past few months.

Some time in August, I knew I needed a win. My day job was weighing me down (as it continues to do but heyho, it's 2018, we're expected to earn a wage, even if it mentally kills us off amiright!), my social life is a lil' bit in tatters, and I was generally feeling lost again. I had a story saved, one that came from a very deep, broken place in my heart about platonic friends that suffer a break-up, so to speak. After much deliberation, I decided I wanted to self-publish again. I got in touch with self-published authors, got lots of advice, and decided this was where I wanted to take myself. I wanted to be in control.

That book was called SAVING PAIGES and I pretty much announced it to the world. I was proud; I had news, I had a beautiful book that had already been called "profound". I hired an editor and shared my story, willing to take any and every piece of advice she gave me. I'd be self-publishing alone; I needed all the professional eyes I could get. I set a publication date (20/12/2018). I found a sort of social media theme. I put myself on Goodreads.

And then.

At first, I would have called it "Disaster Strikes", but after much rational thought, I'm calling it the "Thankful Realisation". My editorial letter came through on SAVING PAIGES. I had a good story but I didn't have the logistics. I didn't have a secure plot to follow. Everything in there was too much Me and not enough Fiction. Remember when I said the story came from a deep, broken place? I put unfiltered thoughts and content in, and my editor gave me a few reality hits. (Ones that made me realise things about my own self). She made me realise there was not near enough to my main character, not near enough to the actual story. She suggested a big replot, and at first, I genuinely wallowed. This was a story I had already spent so much time drafting and editing--now I'd have to go through it all again? The point of me self-publishing was to take control, was to give myself something to hold and cheer myself on for, and I felt like it left me.

On a side note, I'm trying to rationalise all my thoughts as of late. I'm trying to be less sensitive, to laugh things off, to be a lighter, happier, better me. So I took time out to go through this editorial letter, to look at it from the correct angle: my editor is not trying to ruin my dreams but help me achieve the best story I could create. I deliberated, wrote down everything that didn't work well within my story, let myself know why, and resolved to recreate.

I won't have a book for December now, I don't think. It will be some sort of miracle if I do! That's the hardest to come to terms with. I can rewrite a book, I can edit again and again, over and over, until it can be a book suitable for publication. I just don't want to be sitting idle for months on end, and even though I write every day, I've had the world make me feel like I'm sitting idle just because I'm not out in the "real world" working full time. I'm not. I have to remember that. I'm working every day towards my ultimate dream. I'm not letting that dream be swayed, or burn out. I'm chasing it, working towards it, and I'm working hard. The hardest lesson I've learnt over 2018 is that just because you're not up and physically productive, does not nullify anything you do whilst sat down, working. Progress is progress, and it happens to different people in different ways. As someone handling a dream job where I work at it in my bedroom, in comfort, its hard to accept that as progress when I have a day job that requires me to be professional and literally stood at a desk for eight hours, on my feet, physically there. That's my own problem, I'll deal with that, not let anyone else tell me that writing isn't a real job, or a real thing, or enough.

So what's happening with my book? It's getting a brand new rewrite. Its slowly becoming a better story to tell. Every word will still come from a personal place but it won't be sensitive anymore; it will be a story worthy of any interested reader. For now, I'm taking down all my promotions because they exist for something non-existing right now, and I'm taking down my Goodreads information. I was hasty and excited with everything else.

All I can do is write and wait, and edit and wait, and hope that I have support backing me, even if my promotion time will be much shorter.

Camp NaNoWriMo July 2018

I'm writing this on Day 11 of Camp, so I'm a little late!

My experience so far is going really, really well. Better than any of my previous attempt at NaNo. I was a little contemplative over entering this month due to my April NaNo. I completely failed, bailed, and then cried wimpishly at myself.

I can recognise why I failed: I didn't dedicate enough thought to my story. I outlined it but everything was like a spider web and rather than being the spider, I was the fly--caught, trapped, unsure which  way was forward. I didn't know what to do in my tangles of words. I think I barely got to 11K in three weeks. It just didn't work for me - and as someone who prides themselves on word counts, I struggled with that.

At the time, I was trying out several different manuscripts - none of them were quite clicking to work with me. Nothing was coming out right on the page. So I took a long, long break from writing. I worked on my TBR pile instead and tried to find the story out there waiting for me to reclaim my writing. I read avidly, knowing I wouldn't find my answer in books but knowing it would distract my brain from overthinking the problem.

Eventually, it hit me. I wanted a story with the more relaxed ruling of Lords; I wanted another female-centred cast, and I wanted adventure. My world-building absolutely sucks so this new story had to test that. Had to build on my lacking skills rather than run from them. During my long break from my laptop, I picked up a fresh notebook and began visualising my new story. Character names came swiftly; they all fit the images I had in my head. The world they all lived in fleshed in my mind; the layout and system of the world came to me. I took my notebook to work with me, as well as on holiday, and planned like I'd never quite planned before. With over 50 pages just in notes alone, I came back from my holiday in time for Camp, feeling determined and insistent that I could succeed.

So, for my Camp NaNoWriMo I'm working on a story about four girls, all from very different backgrounds and cities, all sent on one mission to retrieve a precious Jewel that controls the world they live in. It belonged to the High Queen, ruling over the whole world, and controlling  the Lord who claim each city, and was stolen. There are high stakes, good ships, and hopefully varied locations!

At Day 11 I'm already several thousand words ahead of schedule, at just over 25,000 words. Share your NaNo stories with me over on Twitter @ShaneDReid!

Two Months Post-Shave - Why I Did It.

Two months ago, I did something so entirely me--yet it seemed as far from me as possible. In a way that can only work when your entire personality is split and you don't know who you are exactly most days.

Two months ago today, I decided that having hair--no matter how short it was already--simply wasn't enough for me anymore. I decided to shave it off--not to my bare scalp. I did a #3 on it. It was a decision I'd thought of for months. It was a decision I researched, I debated over with friends/family, and a decision I still don't have a solid reason for. Living in a home with a mum who loves reasoning, that was a difficult conversation. And when the person (me) who needs to explain, and can't? Everything was so much harder.

Now, I'll laugh and say, "Why did I do that?" But at the end of the day, I'll tell people one thing and admit another thing to myself.

"I needed to focus on my disliking for my own face. Apparently this is a method to help with that. There's no hair to hide behind," was one explanation. "I just don't like my hair," was the main one I spouted to my mother. "Aesthetic!" Was what I laughed over with my cousin.

"Honestly, I don't know," I said to myself. Here's the story:

I've always been hit-and-miss with my hair. Ever since I was 14 (I think, my memory is repressive and likes to become a net in which things slip through easily), and had my first proper short haircut, I was hooked. I preferred the way short hair looked on me; I preferred the lack of maintenance. (Which is a lie--haircuts need to be more frequent, so goodbye savings!) I liked the upkeep and feel of a new, fresh haircut every so often. Except it was every so often. Finally, for my Year 11 prom, I got the closed-cropped haircut I'd always wanted. I was excluded from most group photos, I heard my friends talking s*** about my new haircut, and felt the stares. But who cares? I felt comfortable with my hair. I've always been extremely firm in the belief that it's my hair, my consequences, and nobody else's business. I fell out often with my mum when it was Time For a Haircut because she loves long hair--loved long hair on me.


In late 2016, I had cherry-red hair and sported an undercut: a result of showing the hairdresser a picture of Min Yoongi and saying, "I want that." Of course, this is strange, I know. So I loved it; my mum hated it. Same old story. But fast-forward a few months, to April 2017. I suddenly got the idea that I should grow my hair. Not long, never past my shoulders, but maybe just see what change would occur in myself. 2017 was a year of utter lost for me. My decisions and choices were very skewed, but I persisted in growing out my hair. Every week or so, I texted my friend saying, "I just want to cut it all off again." And she recognised my fierceness and saw past the structure in my thoughts and suggested self-destructive tendencies. Safer tendencies; wanting to take out some repressed anger at the world on my hair.

And people loved me growing out my hair. My family who'd always endured my short hair started patting my head, complimenting the growth, saying how good I looked. They began to compliment me so much more. Of course it helped that I was discovering proper makeup during this growing-out stage--so my appearance overall glowed up, I suppose.

But then I recognised the problem that sat uncomfortably: I was no longer growing my hair for me, to see how I'd feel. It started to become for others, for their compliments, for the notice that something was changing about me again. My hair began to exist for their pleasing. When I looked in the mirror, my hair was just the same-old; I no longer found it satisfying. Whenever I styled it how I wanted and liked, my mum sort of laughed or told me to do a different thing to be more presentable.

I grew my hair from June 2017 - April 2018. And then one day, I'd had enough. I wanted a style for me again. I wanted to reclaim control of my hair. So I got it all cut off into an extremely short, #4 shaved sides, crew cut. Most in work complimented it, told me I suited the short hair so much better, and I felt more confident in who I was again.

But then I got something into my system that wouldn't shake loose until I satisfied it. I began romanticizing shaved hair intensely. I saw a lot of females on Pinterest and Instagram shaving their hair off and talking of empowerment. As someone who'd never felt much in control of their hair, this was like music to my ears. I yearned for that feeling of power over myself, to completely take it away from my family, and anyone else who thought they had a say as to how I should look. I was so inspired and insistent, driven a little mad by this idea; I messaged many people for their opinion even though I already knew I was going to do it.

So I was inspired, yet I looked for a hair colour I don't have. I only ever saw and admired girls with dark hair who'd shaved it all off. A ginger buzzcut, in my experience, is a very different story and look. In my experience, a bad one. As soon as I began to shave mine, I knew it wasn't the right decision. Instead of that control I'd wanted, I felt sick and anxious as I ran the trimmer over and over my head, taking off chunks of hair. So much hair I didn't even think I still had after my crew cut restyle. Instead of loving my new buzz, I felt anxious every time I looked in the mirror. I was left with the complete opposite of what I'd desired.

I'd had people support me, telling me what I wanted to hear, not what I needed to hear. All that came from my family and I wrongly resented it. Yes, it's just hair--but hair adds significantly to an overall appearance and when I sported something I did not suit and couldn't carry confidently? Nooooo.

Sometimes doing this is the right thing for people. Other times, it isn't--for people like me. Right now, I'm growing my hair back to a length I'll hopefully be happy with--at least for a while. The style I'm planning to get is another entirely new one.

So the end point is: I shaved my hair off chasing something that wouldn't have ever existed for me with a shaved head. I don't have a proper reason as to what came over me when I held the trimmer up to my hair, but maybe sometimes weird actions don't need one. I did it, I regret it, I look back on my pictures from that short time thinking how ugly I am, but it's hair: it's growing back. It's reconciling.

ALL THE CROOKED SAINTS (Non-Spoiler Review)

Title: All the Crooked Saints

Author: Maggie Stiefvater

Star Rating: 3* out of 5* (but bear with me; it's not a BAD story)

Would I recommend it?: Hesitantly.

Although this is a review that praises this story as well as points out it's strangeness, I can only give this book three stars purely because it had quite a slow start but this book was, by all means, not a bad book at all. It's the 12th Maggie Stiefvater book I've read, after loving all of her previous books.

All the Crooked Saints is The Most bizarre book I've ever read, with the most bizarre backstories and the most bizarre character interests, but with a very real and honest point to each story told. So entirely different from any of book she's written, Maggie Stiefvater seems to have taken a risk by writing this because it's so distanced from her usual stories (which is a good thing; I don't know why I say it like it isn't). Yes, it has hints of magic and the unusual; yes it has her love stories written like not love stories but love stories all the same; yes it has her cool way of describing family dynamics, but it was so utterly chaotic and somewhat lovable for it's bizarreness that I'm still unsure of my true feelings for it.

From the start to the first 100 pages, I struggled to read more than ten pages a day, wondering if I could actually finish this weird book. It didn't seem to promise much at the beginning, except a large cast of characters, that, at the time, seemed too much; I felt lost in the meaning. But then past page 100, the book suddenly gripped me (think Take on Me by A-Ha sort of gripping, with the hand through the page) and I couldn't put it down for another 150 pages, thus making me suffer with a crick in my shoulder that I'm complaining over now. Things got interesting. Whilst I still read 50% of the book thinking "what the hell?" and frowning, I became interested. That cast that seemed too full at the beginning became necessary and important. All those backstories? They actually have amazing meanings to them. And the base of the story, at it's core? Incredibly thought out. It was like finding gold buried beneath layers of sand, if only you dig long and hard enough. I felt like reading this book was a test: get through the weirdness to find what everything actually means. All the Crooked Saints is about learning lessons, about learning who you are, and I felt like it taught me a lesson.

Very clearly in the story there are two halves: there are the Saints, and there are the pilgrims. Whilst at first things seemed dull, the division became something intriguing. Despite living on the same ranch the two halves never spoke. Until they did. And danger brewed. For a Soria (the family in the book, very wonderfully reminiscent of the dynamic with the Sargents in TRC), to speak to a pilgrim means facing their own (even more terrible than ordinary) darkness, because that's what the pilgrims are trying to work through. Whatever they become after seeking a miracle, it seems to be what they fear. And what they fear is the thing they need to overcome to move on with their life; otherwise they're trapped, unmoving, not knowing where to go. That was a Big Deal to read--so very true, wrapped in the strange, surrounding context of the story. You have to face your fear so you can begin to live properly again.

Maggie Stiefvater has a way of making a smaller setting seem much grander, much more vast, and Bicho Raro, the place where the Soria's live, is no exception. It has all the vastness and endless possibilities found in Fox Way, in Monmouth, and so, in a distant way, All the Crooked Saints is like a unique mirror of TRC - with more characters, a thinner plot and book, but just as much otherworldliness and intrigue.

All the Crooked Saints was hard to get into, but once I did get into it, it was endless, infinite, beautiful, imaginative and asked me to read in between the lines--which I kind of feel like I have done. Then there are the three main Soria counsins of the "current generation" as such: Beatriz was interesting and lovable; Daniel was flawed and thoughtful, and Joaquin was just downright a classic Stiefvater creation. Each name and backstory and fleshed-out character had that special, unique Stiefvater brand, which was what won me over eventually. Consisting of many owls, miracles, trading darkness for light, butterfly dresses and a girl who can't stop crying and is constantly rained on, this book is one I'd hesitantly recommend.

If you want a book to challenge your focus and understanding as a reader, go ahead! Although some of the writing felt simple yet quirky, it was not a simple storyline, but one that asked to be looked into further beyond what was written. It's weirdness is what will make me remember this book in a good way; it's what will make this book stand out.

THE START OF ME AND YOU (Review)

Title: The Start of Me and You

Author: Emery Lord

Star Rating: 4* out of 5*

Would I Recommend It? ABSOLUTELY.

In all honesty, I was apprehensive about this book. The first book I read by Emery Lord was WHEN WE COLLIDED, and that still remains one of my all-time favourite contemporary books, even from back in 2016. I adored it. Late last year, I read THE NAMES THEY GAVE US and was a little disappointed, even though I really enjoyed most parts of the book. For me, it didn't live up to WHEN WE COLLIDED. But THE START OF ME AND YOU, a YA contemporary like her others, lifted my expectations right back up, and I adored every single page.

***

Paige starts a new year of school right after the loss of her short-term boyfriend, Aaron. After a summer of grieving him, suffering with anxiety and depression, she is determined to start a fresh year surrounded by friends and taking chances. The book opens with her talking with Ryan Chase, who understands her pain, but advises her that everyone has to go on, their life still exists to be lived. As her long-standing, recently single, crush, Paige hangs on his words. So, she devises a plan--to date, to take up an extracurricular activity, to participate and to socialise. Her dating plan is a very touch-and-go and guilt thing for Paige, after losing Aaron. The grief she feels is deep, despite only dating him for two months. For her, I think the grief was more about how young he was and whether he died with a smile on his face after jumping off a bridge with friends, more than the love lost.

Her plan interconnects so many things. Through her dating plan, she finds herself sitting near Ryan Chase in one of her classes. There's always that one class in high school based contemporaries that sets the timeline of the book, a trope I love. For this book, it was English Lit. By chance, Ryan is moved, and switched with his "nerdy" cousin, Max. Max is not only the gateway to Paige's other checklist item--an extracurricular activity--but also the rock she needs for her grief. Through Ryan, she meets Max. Through Max, she joins the QuizBowl team, an activity that really brings Paige out of her grief-formed shell. Through socialising, Paige attends a party where she realises that Max may actually be a great friend for her, and not just a way to get to Ryan.

Something I adore in this book is the constant support system. Not only are her friends there for her, but Paige has a deep bond and loyalty to her friends to always be there for them. When one of her friends goes through a breakup, they all go comfort her together. Outside of her friends, Paige has a grandmother whose dementia takes strong grips on her, but she writes down everything important that Paige speaks about. As her friendship group and support grows in this book, so does Paige's faith in life again.

Aaron died in a lake accident. He was messing around with his friends, jumping into the water, and so this brings symptoms of PTSD for Paige. But she's always liked swimming, and the aftermath of Aaron's death tries to overrule that. Another item on her list is to swim again, to conquer her fear of the water.

Over the course of the book, it comes to Paige's attention that Max isn't just a friend. He's there for her the most; the understanding character to every problem she has. Despite being surrounded by her group of three friends, Max is something else for her. An element that I loved about this book is Paige's home life. Her parents begin dating again after divorcing years before. This becomes a complicated thing, and as a child whose parents divorced when I was younger, I can confirm Paige's resentment and hostility towards the idea. It would be awful but it added so much more to the story. It added strength to the family when they went through their own hardships. It added different confidantes for Paige.

The book takes place roughly over a year, and during that time, Paige learns, little by little, that life really is worth living even after parts of what you know leave for good. As someone who suffers with a lack of motivation and anxiety, this is a book I needed to read. I got to see an incredible, realistic protagonist fear a lot but still try. I got to see the incredible support system that she has. Hope has a way of staying alive in this book.

My lack of five stars is down to the fact that there was little diversity in the characters, and how Ryan Chase is a very cliche name for the popular boy, and was quite cliche in his ways, even though he had his relatable side. I'd like to have seen more about Paige's interest in script-writing, too. There was a lot of backstory to how she got into it, but not so much of the interest happening in the present duration of the book. Otherwise, I would recommend THE START OF ME AND YOU to any contemporary reader. Emery Lord has a way of total immersion with her characters on the page, and it's impossible not to get lost in her stories.

An Itch You Can't Scratch (A Creative, or lack of, Process.)

I know a lot of writers post about their own creative processes and how they cope with deadlines/life stresses, and lately I've been feeling my own life obstacles when it comes to writing, and needed to vent it out.

First, a mini timeline:

In 2017, I had no job despite my endless trying but I somehow had depthless bouts of creativity. Over the span of twelve months, I drafted and edited three full-length novels. I then drafted another two, leaving them be. I read a lot more; I had all the time in the world to let my mind run absolutely free, even though I very rarely left the depressive comfort of my bedroom. 2017 in every other way but creatively, was an awful year. But I got at least five varied manuscripts out of it.

In the summer of 2017, I got told, "I can't wait for you to get a job so writing goes back to just being a hobby." This was said by someone who knows how desperately I want to make a career out of writing novels, and so stuck painfully with me. And oh, how they are the damning words.

In December 2017, I finally got a job after twelve failed interviews. I worked only eight hours every weekend, and had the entire week to myself, to still craft and create. I wrote another manuscript over the course of December/January.

Going back to those damning words, I'm now working full, late shifts three/four days a week, and am finding my brain has such less room and energy for writing. I've been told that's what I need: a distraction from striving so hard, but it's not. It's more a hindrance. Since the beginning of February, when my hours were upped, I've toyed with five different novel ideas, wrote scraps of where they could go, who my characters would be, a loose premise, but once I sit down to write them, everything that I creatively had in 2017 evaporates. (See title, ha.) This is life, right? We have to work--work comes first; that's what is making my money right now. Not writing.

But here's the thing: throughout the god-awful 2017, writing was my crutch, my anchor. I depend on creatively venting. I depend on completing and editing manuscripts because I need to write to keep striving for that career I want. So as a writer who needs to write but can't? I am literally in mental turmoil. I participated in Pit Mad this year and received no requests, which was overwhelmingly disheartening at the time. I still have those polished manuscripts, which I'm querying with. I feel like I'm putting my all into striving and getting nothing back, which also drains me mentally.

I read a Twitter post this morning about how although writing is a great release, it's also quite bad for mental health. That's been proven personally to me time and time again. My mind is an array of open tabs, filled with half-formed premises that won't come alive on the page. I'm trying to edit other stories but currently I'm putting in so much mental effort with work and trying with that, and enduring so many failing expectations regarding pretty much everything, my brain just isn't connecting with my writing. I don't want to stop working; I feel lazy for cutting any hours I currently do to get that time back for what I love more than anything, and other than that, I don't know where to go. I didn't realise that getting a job meant trading in my biggest love in life. I don't know quite how to make it any other way; how to balance both. My job is mentally demanding, leaving little thought for anything else, even once I'm away from it.

A break is good for the brain, and I suppose that's what I'm getting, but I'm also increasingly frustrated by my lack of ability these days. Writing was always my escape, a place I could build and work on, and create somewhere better, and do something I'm passionate about. Now I've sort of lost that, and it's a struggle.

If anyone has any tips at all--anything that isn't walking, listening to music, self-care (because I've tried all of this), come find me on Twitter at @ShaneDReid and yell advice at me, please.

Sincerely,
A Lost Writer.

Strong Females in YA.

Young adult--both contemporary and fantasy--have admirable, strong females, and the inspiration and motivation they provide literally pour off the pages. I have a soft spot for these kind of characters, especially when they're written realistically and well. Four immediately come to mind but there are so many to represent such an important theme in young adult books and I had to limit myself to seven (so buckle up if you're prepared to read on!).

CELAENA SARDOTHIEN - So she's probably a really cliche character to pick for this theme. But the truth is that she is the purely the definition of strong for me in Throne of Glass. Not only does she overcome mundane things like waking up early and getting things done and fighting for respect in the Assassin's Keep but she also buries her own truth and past deep inside of her to become Celaena. She had to leave a torn-apart world behind at only eight years old and start training to become Arobynn's ruthless assassin and protegee. She went from being the girl she'd been (I'm trying not to spoil the story for anyone not read past Crown of Midnight) and knowing a family, to being turned to a life of violence and steel and secrecy. She survived a year in Endovier, and she may have been granted her freedom, but only to enter another game of survival. But before she even began competing, she had to fight her own body to get her strength and general health back. Even after the competition, she faces so many hardships, especially in the events post Heir of Fire, when she has to come to terms mentally with all that she's faced.

Sarah J. Maas truly explores Celaena's fractured mental health between CoM and HoF and gives us the true character beneath bravado. But even during that, she still got up and fed and watered herself. There was some part of her that had died from her time in the glass palace but she still survived. She fought and eventually, she found what it was to live again and not just get from one day to the next.

WING JONES - I adore contemporary protagonists purely because they're relatable on all platforms and never tainted by the overwhelming fantasy elements. There's no magic to taint their problems and sway from that. They're purely human and flawed and no magic fixes that or empowers them. They fix that. They find their own empowerment. And in Wing's case in Katherine Webber's beautiful and inspiring Wing Jones, her empowerment is herself and her capability of running. I already wrote a review of this heart-warming book but I want to reinstate the strength of this fifteen-year-old girl who finds her true desire on a track. She battles the racist wrath due to her mixed background as well as suffering beneath the weight of the anger from students after her brother commits drink-driving and kills someone. Wing is only young and she deals with so many thoughts and feelings and events in the pages of the book but she endures it and fights back, discovering a strength inside her that she never had before.

Katherine Webber has written this stunning story of how to find yourself and that it may come when you feel at your worst and it won't be easy but it will be an ending you make for yourself and it's something only you can find and use.

LIBBY STROUT - Again, another amazing contemporary protagonist. Libby shows us that size is not your identifier in life nor should it hinder you. She's a character who stands up for herself and learns to do that the hard way. She has known bullying, she's known pain and heartbreak and panic attacks and anxiety. And she fights it. Libby dances--she loves to dance and she won't let anyone put her down for that because of her size. She goes into school with a mindset that she can be anyone that she wants to be; that her past doesn't define her, and even when it does, she learns the lesson that she can use that to strengthen her present. Libby is flawed and she's afraid but she becomes fearless for herself in order to live a life that she wants. In Holding Up the Universe, she writes motivational quotes to herself on her shoes and she decides to live after an entire summer of doing anything but that. Libby finds her worth and importance and strength from other people around her trying to bring her down. She's a fighter for herself and her own motivation is herself.

Jennifer Niven provides a wholesome, badass girl of a large size to encourage people that they are more than their weight or what people say. That they are loved and worthy of a life too, no matter how many people try to say otherwise.

INEJ GHAFA - Inej is the third character that I've already written about in my blog about strength and how she's inspired me. Six of Crows provides a manner of inspiring females but there was something about Inej that I just couldn't shake for a very long time, even until now. Inej is a character who relies on her physical strength to be of worth to the gang. She gains herself the nickname of The Wraith because of how silently she can move. There are times when she struggles to keep up that physical level she needs and almost bullies herself into going on, even when she feels unable. In Six of Crows, during the heist, she has to climb up an incinerator and her shoes almost burn off but she has to climb and she envisions every scrap of inspiration she's ever been given from her past life of being an acrobat. She does it for the crew and not necessarily herself. She does it so she doesn't fail those around her and then puts herself first later on. Inej is someone who keeps going even when everything screams at her that she cannot; for that reason, she is a massive inspiration for me.

Leigh Bardugo presents a character who not only has these physical aspects to overcome, but also for her ethnicity and the love for her "brown skin" from customers. She had been captured and forced into a brothel before she joined the crew in the story. Through that, she faced horrors that also remained a torment in her mind but instead of letting it break her, Inej uses it as fuel to go on. She goes through so much yet at the end of the day, she can still smile with her friends and laugh with Nina and love Kaz and find room in her heart for the good things despite the weight of so much bad.

ELAIN ARCHERON - Before you read on, please know that I am not looking away from Feyre's strength as the best sister. She's also strong but Elain is for different reasons that affected me personally and that's why I chose her out of the sisters. Yes, Feyre is incredible and literally raised her family and gave herself up to Tamlin, thus starting the chain of the story, whilst being the youngest, but Elain had such a strong part in ACOWAR and it's something that I want to talk about most. (ACOMAF and ACOWAR spoilers ahead, you have been warned.)

At the start of ACOTAR, Elain Archeron is the ghost in the corner who follows Nesta's opinions (when they weren't all arguing) and tended to her garden. I noticed her as a separate character when Feyre returned to the new estate they'd been given and she was interacting with the house staff and rolling up her sleeves in the garden. That's when I fell in love with Elain. Then she was in A Court of Mist and Fury and had found love and happiness in a boy and my heart ached for her because I knew that happiness never lasts in books. And it didn't--Elain was thrown into the Cauldron and emerged a Fae. Not thinking of the mental affects it would have had on her, or the fact that she'd become what that boy she loved despised, I expected a thriving Fae who had some sort magic in her that connected her with her gardening love. But no... What awaited for me in A Court of Wings and Ruin was the shell of Elain, thin and frail and broken. That's what hurt; I knew Elain had so much potential as Fae, as she had as a human, but she was completely broken for all the things I hadn't considered. But Elain, despite her mental health, still got up and fought for the safety of those surrounding her. Elain still tried and it took much encouragement but she let that in and let it comfort her into living again. What I loved about Elain's character was that she was never ready in the story to let Lucien (or Azriel, for you Elriel shippers out there) into her heart because it had been shattered in a way that needed far more time than ACOWAR gave to heal and love again. And I'm glad for that. I'm glad that Elain's recovery began with herself and not the spark of love from a man or mate. In the end, she stabbed the man who had broken her whole life in the throat and began his demise. She conquered and she fought back against the evil that had forced her into something she had never wanted to be. Her strength blossomed in ACOWAR and she found herself surviving better until she could live.

SHAZAD AL-HAMAD - Strength isn't only extended to the main females taking the lead in stories. Second characters get the spotlight for that too. In the case of Rebel of the Sands, Shazad was a character that caught me and made me interested immediately. As an important member of the rebellion, I was guaranteed to love her. The fact that she was a female fighter was even better and targeted my weak spot where females are concerned. (Because who doesn't love a good female wielding a weapon and standing up for themselves and what they believe in?) But Shazad is strong and careful and clever. She knows battle strategy from her father who she lets inspire her and uses that to her advantage in the rebellion. Not only is she working against the Sultan and trying to put her own prince on the throne, but her father is also a fighter, one against the Sultan. Working as both Amani's general and friend, Shazad often has to find the right balance to do something but also keep her out of danger. Often, she agrees with Amani's bad decisions because she knows they'd do a lot more for the rebel movement.

Alwyn Hamilton brings an incredibly determined and fierce girl who fights for what she wants and for a better future. She's a character who goes through a lot: enduring the loss of her best friend, fighting when everyone tries to put them down, defying the law, fighting as a girl and always needing her voice to be heard because of how well she assesses battles and decisions.

 LILA BARD - Delilah is a fighter, a thief, a rule-breaker and, come A Gathering of Shadows, a magician. For similar reasons to other characters I've mentioned, my first thought of why Lila is strong is because she lives. Barely any sleep? Lila still goes and lives. Not eaten in hours? She still fights. And that's what she does; she fights her way through anything and everything because it matters to her that she lives. She has a lot taken from her so when she finds her use in magic and thieving to get her by, she utilizes it in the best way possible and enters The Essen Tasch against every good sense. She fights her way through opponents to prove herself and win. She risks her place on Alucard's ship by doing this and risks her identity being revealed back in the presence of Kell but it's important to Lila so she fights for it. Lila is strong because whilst she claims to be fearless, she can also admit at parts that she is afraid... but she doesn't just accept that. She fights against her fears so she can overcome them rather than just let them fester. Lila loses a lot in the series but she still finds reasons to go on and I find that incredibly strong.

Victoria Schwab's females are some of my favourites in young adult fantasy because of the pure strength driving them and their motivation. It can be questionable but it's great and personal to each character and they fight differently--either mentally or physically--and refuse to be broken so easily just because they're females.

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There are so many other females I could talk about but this post would turn into a book in that case. I have so many books on my shelves to read and I'm looking forward to finding more strong and powerful females in them!