Look, a blog post!

I'm doing okay. Better. Not great yet, but I'm taking my medicine, exercising, writing, reading scriptures and awesome books, and eating brownies while I listen to music. I'm getting stronger, and I hope to get back to where I was before this bout of depression began.

This won't be a long post, because Pyromancy is behind schedule, and I've got some writing to do. But I recently read The Bitter Kingdom, which is the conclusion to The Girl Of Fire and Ice trilogy and I've got to talk about it. I love that series. The world building is brilliant, the plot constantly surprised me, and Elisa is one of the strongest characters I've ever read. She's a phenomenal leader, and so smart, and likable. It's a great, great book and a satisfying end to one of my favorite books ever, The Girl of Fire and Thorns.

Then I read a few sentences that changed this great book, into a favorite book. Maybe even a holy book, at least for me. A special book, that did what books are for, and taught me a lesson that made my life better.

Slight spoilers ahead.

"You look beautiful," Alodia says.
I startle at the compliment. Then I smile. "I'm beautiful to the one person who matters."
She nods. "Hector's mouth will drop open when he sees you."
"I hope so. But I meant me. I'm beautiful to me."

Those were the words I've needed to hear for a long time. Those were the words I've been looking for, and thank you Rae Carson for finding them and speaking them so simply so they could teach me.

Sometimes I read books, and I think, I can do better than that. Sometimes I read books, and I despair because I know no matter how hard I work I will never be able to craft a story that gorgeous or turn a sentence so beautiful. And then I read books, like The Bitter Kingdom, and I don't think about me at all. All I can think is to hold that mound of words and think...this is what I want to do. This is why I do this. This is why I keep trying and growing and reading and gosh, you darn book, thank you for existing.

When I read books like this one, I forget I'm a writer, and I'm just a reader, in love with a book.

Swim on, humans.
~Sheena

Love what you love

Hi, my name is Sabrina, and I have a problem. You see, I have a bad habit of clicking on links that I'm well aware that will make me angry. Like the following!
Against YA: Read whatever you want. But you should feel embarrassed when what you’re reading was written for children.

So never mind the title's inherent contradictory nature (read whatever, unless it's something I as the writer deem to be inappropriate!). I mean, I've read dozens of articles about how children's literature is supposedly inferior. And I know how wrong it is, even without reading all the multiple well thought-out rebukes to the specific linked article above.

No, aside from that, I want to talk about something else. I want to talk about shame in regards to what we love.

It's not the first time I've talked about shame or guilt in regards to loving genre fiction. In any case, I should be long accustomed to strangers telling me that what I like isn't good enough, that what makes me happy is somehow inferior or inadequate. But it's difficult to ditch habits, and to stop worrying about what other people think.

But I'm working on it. Because really, shame is a terrible reason not to enjoy something that you love. Think about it: once you decide to classify something you love as inadequate or shameful, it doesn't decrease your love for that thing. Instead, you're often left with two states of mind: guilty enjoyment, or full-on guilt. And as I've said before, what use is it to let others determine what makes you happy? Happiness is such a rare, precious thing. So don't be afraid to do whatever it is that makes you happy, even if every other person you know tells you that the thing is somehow inferior. Because you're not doing it for them. You're doing it to make you happy.

Not anyone else.

And never let anyone make you feel bad about it.