The Hurting and the Hurtful - Japan's Pain

When the video clips played last Friday on CNN my heart broke. I found it was very easy to cry, very easy to feel helpless and desolate as the people of the beautiful Japan were swept away like sakura petals in the wind...

'Why Lord?' I asked God in my prayers. 'What have they done?'
Praying for them to have the strength to rise above this pain is the only thing that I could do. I don't have the financial capability being a young girl who can't even afford college, to send donations even though my heart aches to fly to Sendai and pull those people from the waves that have long receded and hold them close and drive the chill of loss and pain from their hearts!

I was somewhat pleased with the way the rest of the world reacted. Everyone tweeted, #Pray For Japan became a trend within an hour of the disaster. Other countries sent aid in any form possible, people blogged, people held vigils, yes, people prayed... and I felt proud of humanity, we were there for our brothers, sisters, people of the same blood though we were miles apart.
And then a link on Gizmodo shattered that fluffy pink cloud of satisfaction... A comment had this link attached to it - http://i.imgur.com/wbiJh.jpg - and when I read it I was much more than merely horrified, I was utterly and completely bowled over!!
There still are people so low, so cruel, so evil that they make Lord Voldermort look like the Candyman! How is this possible? How is it that the world could be so dark?
When you see such atrocities living in the back of the people's minds you think, 'Hey, no wonder the world is destined for destruction.' Freaks like these need to be wiped out or their ideals will spread like an ugly cancer and consume us all!
I pray for the people of Japan, and even more so we need to pray for the people of America - at least the ones on that website - pray that the world not be held accountable for those that stoop so low as to mock an entire nation of innocent victims over a grudge against their ancestors. It's the same here in Sri Lanka, though the war is over, the Tamil people are still treated like lesser beings, after the death of the Tamil Rebel Leader, people celebrated their bloodlust in the streets and they will again, this year...
There are 50 people staying behind in Fukushima Daiichi braving death, putting their lives on the line for the rest of us, trying to stop the radiation. Heroes in Real Life, I bow before you guys in awe!!
The Japanese are a strong, innovative people after all they're the guys that gave us Yamaha and Sony, where would our music industry be if they weren't there to pioneer it?
We are praying for you Japan! May God bless you and be there by your side as you stand up from the rubble and once again become the proud people who create my favorite manga and manufactured my beloved guitar :)

Reviewed For The Very First Time

I recently joined the www.youwriteon.com competition that involves a major book and a whole lot of blah. The basic idea is to upload a couple of chapters from your novel, or soon-to-be novel and let people review it as much as you review the ones that are sent to you. Thus a ranking and well, you can figure out the rest right?

So yesterday I get my very first review ever!

It was from a writer who claimed to have been travelling Africa for the past 20 years or something along the lines. My imagination gave me the image of a middle aged dude with a great big moustache, tanned complexion dressed in an outfit of ochre similar to Tintin when he was in the Congo. – You know, hat and all?

Clearly this writer, be it a man or a woman, knew what he/she was talking about. I noticed that he – let’s make it ‘he’ so he fits with my Tintin in Congo image? – had uploaded five or six texts into youwriteon and had probably had them published already. That’s far cry from little ol’ me who had barely finished one measly book! He told me that my writing was too damn poetic for my own good, too lyrical that it takes your mind right out of the story! He also said that I had inundated the review chapters with so many similes that he drowned...literally.

And as if that wasn’t constructively critical enough, he went on to quote the most quoted cliché of all literary clichés, ‘Show, don’t tell!’

Okay. So I was humbled... and totally freaked out!

Finally, he quoted my text, “‘What? What rubbish is this...’ I am inclined to use that last line myself!”

AAOUUCCHHH!!

Okay, so I am more than humbled. I am flat on the floor like a human pancake! Squished, destroyed, back to feeling like that naughty little girl back in the Primary that teachers used to say was ‘Too Big For Her Boots!’

Tough love.

So my very first review was a little bit below the line of ‘cruelty.’ But cut the guy some slack right? He doesn’t know I am 21 going on 22, unable to attend college, stuck at home trying to teach myself how to become the next big writer of the century!

That makes me feel better, and so does posting this on a blog that nobody but me and my dear best friend – once I send you the link which I will today – reads!

But then again, I am a step closer to my dream than I was post-humiliating review, right? So rejoice! And let’s get this story on the road!

Cinda Williams Chima - Writer: The Gray Wolf Throne Official Cover!!

Cinda Williams Chima - Writer: The Gray Wolf Throne Official Cover!!: "@font-face { font-family: 'Cambria'; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: ..."

Yay!! Cinda Williams Chima's latest of the amazing Seven Realms novels is coming out in this year!!! Can't wait to read it!!

The Unlikely Friends

This is the story of me and my best friend. How we started out and where we are now. I imagined, if I am serious about this writing profession, I'm gonna have to develop it, aren't I? So what better way to start...

‘Unlikely,’ rather than any other adjective because we were extremely, different breeds of the homo sapien child.

When I first saw him, I was struck by how he was Dilton Doiley’s doppelganger - small, bespectacled with a 50’s-school-boy hairstyle.

After that, I simply ignored him.

I was after all, the equivalent of a Middle School jock, and the elite, had no time for the nerds, newbies and/or other such student subcultures.

At eleven years, the age when most girls start noticing boys, I was still, sadly non-pubescent, so I stayed with my clique of athletic preteens and wowed both teachers and peers alike as the literary genius of Sixth Grade.

It wasn’t until the first term exams that I was forced to acknowledge Shiyamalaraj Kandasamy again.

I had no choice; it’s hard to ignore someone when they’ve just knocked you out of the top spot in the class rankings, a spot you had held without effort since kindergarten!

I began to scrutinize this small, quiet person with a renewed interest and found to my horror that, despite being the size of an average leprechaun, his body mass seemed to be purely, critically analyzing brains - the worst kind there is!

That’s when the rivalry began.

From my new position at Number Two, I became jealous of the fact that some noob, had just waltzed all over me into the top slot that I had held since forever, leaving heavy, leather footprints all over my face!

For the first time in my life, I put my back into it and worked really hard, determined to be restored to my former glory.

By the time we reached Secondary School, I had to accept that I was way in over my head! He was too smart! He was too quick! And it probably helped that he had neither my short attention span nor my tendency to play truant.

As we prepared to choose subject streams at IGCSE, I was infuriated to find he liked the same subjects as me! I knew I didn’t have the capacity to beat him, so I dropped History and English Literature, and told myself it was not because of him!

All through the IGCSE years, I pretended he wasn’t worth my time but now when I think about it, I realize he was always there at the back of my mind, egging me forward, bringing out the fighter in me.

To crown it all, the teachers started comparing the two of us. I was appalled! Why? He and I were nothing alike!

Turns out the teachers didn’t think so either. Au contraire, they believed that he was everything that I was just too darn lazy to be!

That was the last straw.

I began to taunt him. I announced loudly that I will never be anything like him!

I wasn’t an über-geek!

I was cool!

(I hope fervently that he doesn’t remember the bully I used to be, my own mother wouldn’t forgive such cruelty!)

The pattern continued, time passed and we grew up…

In Twelfth Grade, once again, he picked the same four subjects. Not one exception!

I followed him to class that morning, grumbling and cursing him under my breath.

We ended up sitting together and he let me copy off him. I was amazed to find that he had a remarkably sophisticated sense of humour.

It made me see him in a new light.

Though we weren’t real friends, I no longer thought of him as the enemy.

Then he fell in love with my best girlfriend!

I was thrilled!

I put a lot of time and effort into playing matchmaker. It came as a surprise that I really wanted to make him happy!

We started spending more time together as I planned his launch into romance and he started changing. He became rebellious, cocky, a smart mouth!

Once, a teacher called me into her office to reprimand me on being ‘a bad influence on model student Shiyamalaraj Kandasamy!’

It made my day!

When he finally won ‘fair maiden,’ he transformed overnight with confidence. No longer the underdog, he sometimes went as far as to insult me and my plank-like physique!

Was it payback for the times I brought him down?

I don’t know and I don’t really care. It doesn’t really matter now.

In our last year, he bested me again, becoming our Head Prefect.

And me? I felt no anger, no jealousy, only pride.

That year we grew closer and found it was true, that he and I were alike.

We had so much in common; from books, to photography to the mysteries of time travel.

If someone had told twelve-year-old me that the person I’ll run crying to in times of heartbreak would be Shiyam, twelve-year-old me would have scoffed and made a rude, hand gesture!

But that’s what I did.

Heartbroken, the first person I called was him. I cried, and he consoled and stood by my side defiantly all the way.

I remember he once sent an email to the boy who broke my heart, asking him to leave me alone!

I was humbled… and forever grateful!

After graduation, Shiyam and I hardly met, but texted every single day.

I started depending on him and I like to think he depends on me too.

The day he left the country for college was the saddest day of my life! I wandered around aimlessly. I actually cried.

And today, the girl who did not believe in fairytale friendships has found the perfect best friend in the boy who had once been the biggest threat to her perfect, little life.

It might be corny to say it was destiny that linked our pasts, despite our differences.

And I look forward to the inevitable future together with high hopes.

Perhaps we’ll be one of those legendary collaborations like Lennon and McCartney, or the Google guys; two best friends with the power to change the world!

I’d like that!

… … …