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Esther has read 11 books toward her goal of 50 books.

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Esther Spurrill Jones. Powered by Blogger.
08 February 2013
There's a picture circulating around the Internet; I've seen it on Pinterest a couple of times, and I think I saw it on Facebook once. It depicts the scene from the beginning of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring where Isildur took the Ring into Mount Doom and then refused to burn it though Elrond begged him to do so. However, someone has photoshopped a copy of Twilight (the book) into the image in place of the One Ring.

This is supposed to be funny. We are supposed to laugh and shake our heads, and agree that the world would be a better place if Isildur burned this book. We are supposed to think that Twilight is such a piece of dreck that no one should ever be allowed to read it.

Now, I am not a Twihard. I will admit that I read the books, but I wasn't that impressed with the film versions, and I don't think the books are great literature either. I agree with the prevailing opinion that Bella is a rather poor role model for young girls. I did love Alice, though. And Team Jacob, ftw!

Still, this picture makes me very angry.

I simply have a problem with burning books–any books. I read Fahrenheit 451 a few years ago, and–in my mind–it is a horror story. The thought of burning books makes my skin crawl. It makes me sick to my stomach. It gives me the shivers.

Even this one
Besides, aren't there worse books? For the record, I would be just as upset if someone were to burn a terrible book, a book I hate. Why should anyone's opinion decide which books are worth saving, and which ones should be burned? How do we decide who decides? The book I hate might be loved by someone else. The book I love might be hated by someone else. Best not burn any books at all.

There are certain books I will never read. But I will still defend their right to exist. And I definitely won't condone burning them. In fact, I would fight to save them from burning.

I thought about finding the picture that started all this, and linking it here, but I decided against it. I don't even want to look at it, and I hope you don't want to see it either. Or am I crazy? Am I the only one who feels this strongly? Do you think there's ever a case where burning books is justified?
07 February 2013
This is a blitz poem. It is meant to be read aloud, quickly, hardly stopping for breath.

Let's go
Let's travel
Travel through space
Travel through time
Time Lord
Time War
Warring nations
Warring worlds
Worlds destroyed
Worlds saved
Saved from burning
Saved by the doctor
Doctor what?
Doctor who?
Who is he?
Who cares?
Cares for friends
Cares for enemies
Enemies who destroy
Enemies who try
Try to kill him
Try his patience
Patience like Job
Patience not endless, though
Though he is ancient
Though he is endless
Endless through changing time
Endless through changing face
Face of Bo
Face of woe
Woe to those who attack the Earth
Woe to those who threaten death
Death must come to all who live
Death is coming: Run!
Run from daleks
Run from drumbeats
Drumbeats sounding in the brain
Drumbeats knocking on the door
Door is locked—he knocks four times
Door that he must choose
Choose to let another die
Choose to give his life
Life is precious
Life is brief
Brief like a blink of an eye
Brief—don't blink!
Blink and you're gone
Blink and you're dead
01 February 2013
Here's a silly little thing I wrote yesterday. I was playing with first person POV and present tense–which I never use. For some reason, I also used alternating POVs–I really don't know why, unless it was just to be confusing. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Best Friends

“You’re my Betty, baby. Strong and steady, baby. You get me ready to face about anything.” - Chris Cummings (“Betty”)

She calls me first. I’m her best friend, so of course she calls me first. She never stops to think how much it will hurt me, because she never stops to think. I pretend to be happy for her. I agree to be her maid of honour. What else can I do? I’m her best friend.


He tells me first. I’m his best friend, so of course he tells me first. I say he’s crazy to throw his life away on her, that she isn’t worth it, but he doesn’t listen to me. He never listens to me. I agree to be his best man. What else can I do? I’m his best friend.


When I hang up the phone, after listening to Ron go on and on about wedding plans, I sit on the edge of my bed and stare into space. It is as if I’m in a dream–a really bad dream. It can’t be real. I had always known, somewhere in the back of my mind, that this might happen one day, but I never allowed myself to believe it. How could he do this to me?


When Arch leaves, after going on and on about wedding plans, I sit on the edge of my bed and stare into space. All I can think about is Betty. I had always known that he might hurt her like this someday, but I can hardly believe that he hadn’t even mentioned her tonight. It is as if she doesn’t exist, or doesn’t matter to him at all. How could he do this to her?


I always imagined I would someday walk down the aisle to meet Archie at the altar. I had the whole thing planned out in my head: the flowers I would carry, the dress I would wear, the look in his eyes as he watched me approach. Soon I will walk down the aisle toward him, but the love in his eyes won’t be for me.


I always rather thought that Arch would eventually realize that Betty was the better choice. Veronica is exciting, but you never know where you stand with her. She epitomizes everything I can’t stand in women. Veronica is the kind of girl you take to expensive restaurants, buy expensive jewelry for, and hope she doesn’t drop you for someone more exciting. Betty is the kind of girl you marry.


Ever since I was little, I’ve dreamed of love, marriage, and children. I guess I’m a little old-fashioned, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want a career. I could be a successful businesswoman while also being a wife and mother. When I met Archie, I just knew I had found the man I would spend the rest of my life with. There’s never been anyone else for me. Well, there is... No. He wouldn’t be interested.


Ever since I’ve known Arch, he’s been chasing after some girl or another. I guess I’m a little odd, but I don’t see the appeal. Girls only cause trouble and drama. I’ve known only one who is different–I actually consider her a friend–and she’s always been in love with my best friend. Although, now that he’s done this... No. She wouldn’t be interested.


Anyone else would turn to a best friend in a situation like this. I want to pour out my heart and maybe cry a little. But my best friend is the problem, so my diary will have to do. It’s always been there for me before. Tonight’s entry will be a little more tear-stained than usual, but dear diary won’t complain.


Anyone else would be looking forward to his best friend’s wedding, seeing it as a chance to meet girls. I’d rather stay home. Although the Lodges will most definitely have amazing food at the reception, I’ll have to endure the ceremony first. They’ll make me wear a tuxedo, of course, and Veronica won’t let me wear my hat with it, but for Arch’s sake, I won’t complain.


Dresses, dresses, and more dresses. I love clothes, but this is ridiculous. Ethel, Midge, and Nancy look as spent as I feel. We lost count of how many dresses we’ve tried on somewhere around lunchtime. Ron seems to be running on adrenaline or something: she barely slowed down to eat. I have never seen her so enthusiastic about shopping, and that’s saying a lot. I won’t go so far as to call her a bridezilla, but it’s clear that nothing is going to stop her from having the perfect wedding.


Stag, bull, bachelor. By any name, it’s a party, and the best man is expected to plan and organize it. Traditionally, the groom and his male friends get together to drink alcohol, and there are usually strippers involved. Often, a stripper jumps out of a giant cake. I don’t know what Arch expects, but I’m not hiring any strippers. If anyone is disappointed, tough. I think we’ll just go to Pop’s and have burgers and shakes.


Today is the day. It seemed it would never come, and yet, here we are. As I follow Ethel, Midge, and Nancy on the longest walk of my life, I keep my eyes on the back of Nancy’s head. I refuse to look at him; I refuse even to think about him. I am here for Ron.


Today is the day. It seemed it would never come, and yet, here we are. As I stand with Arch, Moose, Chuck, and Dilton at the altar, I struggle to refrain from pulling at my collar. It’s choking me, but I will endure. I am here for Arch.


The ceremony is a blur. I focus on my bouquet, tuning out everything around me. It’s the only way I can get through it.


The ceremony is a blur. I hear nothing of the vows. I cannot take my eyes off of Betty. When did she become so beautiful?


The first dance at the reception. Archie and Ron take the floor, her long white dress swirling around her. I can no longer hold back the tears. I’m grateful for the dim lighting that helps to hide my face.
“May I have this dance?”
I look up into a pair of familiar brown eyes and I smile, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you, Juggie.” I take his hand.


The first dance at the reception. Archie and Veronica are the center of attention, but still my gaze is drawn to Betty. I think she’s crying. I find myself walking towards her.
“May I have this dance?”
She raises her head, and her blue eyes are full of tears. Yet, she smiles, and it’s as if the room is a little brighter. “Thank you, Juggie.” She places her hand in mine.


I’ve never seen Juggie in a tux before. I’ve heard that any man looks good in a suit, but I didn’t expect him to look so good. He’s really very handsome. How have I never noticed before?


I’ve never really seen Betty before. I’ve heard that no one should outshine the bride at a wedding, but she can’t help it. She’s the most beautiful girl in the room. How have I never noticed before?