go postle.

pardon my dust. i'm turning it into glitter.

Hi, I'm Chris. If you subscribe to the MBTI, I'm an INFJ. I put myself through school for a seemingly useless English/Creative Writing degree, but writing is my passion and that's what I want to do when I grow up. Still figuring out what comes next, and pretty much everything else, so I'm feeling kinda adventurous. And yes, that's exactly how my OkCupid profile starts out. Why mess with a good thing, eh?

The site's a work in progress. I'll be adding content over time, and hopefully eventually it'll evolve into something halfway interesting. I'm glad you're still reading, though. Usually by this point I have to show a little skin to keep 'em interested.

Filtering by Tag: j.k. rowling

A Secret Life.

       There's a strange feeling of elation and bitterness that comes with the revelation that a story idea that's been circling your head for a decade is about to be turned into a movie. Elation from, of course, seeing your thoughts and fantasies come to life, bitterness from the crushing realization that you had nothing to do with it and, inevitably, someone else had your idea first.

       I say "inevitably" because the concept that there are no original stories to tell is ever-present on the mind of a writer. The hope is to tell a story in as original a way as possible, adding your own experience and perspective to perhaps improve the old tale. Shakespeare's "Romeo & Juliet" is a favorite example, based on Ovid's "Pyramus & Thisbe". We modernize and adapt, hoping that something in it will pass for originality.

       The story that I was hoping to tell was about a librarian with a rather monotonous existence who entertains himself and satiates his need for something resembling a life through fantasy. It was inspired largely by experience (ha) and a favorite quote from Harry Potter: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." While my story takes it a bit further, little did I know that something extremely similar had been written back in 1939 by James Thurber, now being turned into the Ben Stiller film "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," which I desperately want to see.

       It's eternally frustrating because good ideas come so rarely to me, and it's kind of obvious that this was a very good idea. Mine might be different enough to avoid calling it dead on arrival, but obviously it's already being mourned, as my ideas often are. And it's not helping this developing feeling of being stuck.  So, for now, back to staring in The Mirror.

Outed: J.K. Rowling's "The Cuckoo's Calling" is FABULOUS!

The Cuckoo's Calling
By Robert Galbraith, J. K. Rowling

       It has been ages since I've been so absorbed in a book that I almost missed my bus stop. With this book I've been close about a half dozen times. Like my stop, she wasn't exactly spotted a mile away -- in fact it took three months for the secret to get out -- but "The Cuckoo's Calling", written under the pseudonym "Robert Galbraith", has all the hallmarks of classic Jo Rowling.

       Fans who found themselves slogging through "The Casual Vacancy" (even if too proud to admit it)* will be quite buoyed by this effortless read. In "Cuckoo" Rowling's wit and ninja story-telling skills are stronger than ever. The mystery is deep, the suspense is goose-pimplingly gratifying, and the characterizations would make Jane Austen proud, all the more realistic for their lack of magic wands. Once again, Rowling has masterfully constructed a book that feels exactly the way reading should feel, effortlessly keeping the reader under it's spell. 

        Potter fans will love very subtle references to the series that brought Rowling her own wealth and fame. I giggled aloud when I read the phrase "you know who killed her", even if I can't be entirely sure it was intentional. Given Rowling's superhuman control of the language and a predilection for winks and nudges, I choose to believe that she was having fun with it.

       Entertainment value aside, do not make the mistake of reading the book lightly. From commentary on racial tensions (bigotry seems to be emerging as one of the author's favorite recurring themes) to our culture's obsession with wealth and fame and returning once again to discuss death, if even in a lighter context than her previous works, Rowling once again brings to the table an enviable wisdom and morality without the slightest hint of preachiness.

        The climax of the novel, while not some earth-shattering twist, is gratifying and not overly predictable. Ultimately, readers will likely find more satisfaction in the relationships between the characters, particularly that of Strike and his would-be secretary, Robin. We are left, inevitably, wanting more. Fortunately that desire will be fulfilled soon: in the FAQs on the author's pseudo-site, Rowling reveals that the sequel is due out next year. Overall, highly recommended (and yes, if you purchase through that link to the left I get a cut).

*not to say that it lacked any brilliance

Call me crazy.

Not me. 

       Boy crazy, that is. I saw one of the most beautiful men I've ever laid eyes on today. Perfect muscular body, not too big, not too skinny, just the right amount of body hair in all the best places. He was riding by on his bike, shirtless, of course, and stopped about twenty feet away ostensibly to make a phone call, but I know he was just teasing me. I tried my best to stare as much as possible. I was very close to asking him for a picture, he was just that gorgeous. The bitch.

       I'm getting back to that point in my own fitness where I'm close to maxing out half the machines at the gym again. And it pisses me off when the 6-foot-2 Adonis next to me is struggling with about half the weight. I mean I've accepted the fact that my 170cm frame just won't do some of the things that theirs will. I say 170cm because it sounds so much better than 5'6.9". Yes, that .9 is extremely important because then I can officially round up to 5'7" and avoid the "pocket gay" status of the 5'6"ers. But there I am, a (barely) 20-something Average Joe who could probably kick the panties off the Greek gods.

       Beauty is such a funny thing in this big gay world of ours, though. How much time and energy and money and tears do we spend on trying to make ourselves look better? Does it even matter? Don't they always say that it's what's on the inside that counts? Funny that it's often the ugly people who say that while the beautiful are getting everything they could dream of.

       Perhaps that's why I prefer to dream and forget to live.

       It can sometimes be very difficult to believe in yourself if you're not typically counted among the wealthy or beautiful or highly intelligent. Perhaps that's why we watch those who are thusly gifted, hoping to experience some of their greatness for a moment, perhaps even wishing that some of their je ne sais quoi will rub off on us. If anyone finds out how this works, let me know.

       But when the world seems to crumble around us from greed, bigotry, incompetence, shady government surveillance, etc., at least enjoying something beautiful can make the ride to hell a little less ugly.

 

Copyright © 2019 Christopher Postlethwait