January 4th, 2009
Do you read the beginning pages of a book where they briefly tell of who they dedicate the writing? I always do and often find it not only touching but curiosity-building. I picked up the Christian subculture book, The Shack by William P. Young and this is what I found in his dedication section:
This story was written for my children:
Chad–the Gentle Deep
Nicholas–the Tender Explorer
Andrew–the Kindhearted Affection
Amy–the Joyful Knower
Alexandra (Lexi)–the Shining Power
Matthew–the Becoming Wonder
Doesn’t it kind of remind you of the titles given to the four children in Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia?
King Peter, the Magnificent
Queen Susan, the Gentle
King Edmund, the Just
and Queen Lucy, the Valiant
And maybe, just a little, it reminds me of the tones and impact in the spiritual world as when Peter is declared, the Rock by Jesus himself.
It makes me wonder what my more significant name might be. A name that reflects my true persona and true self, separate from all that is earthly and in tandem with my flesh. And then I get thinking, what might my children names be, who are they becoming, what is emerging within each of them?
Oh, to not just wonder and be curious, but to actually start looking for these new names and then set our eyes a gazing.
October 8th, 2008
…but when I discovered a fellow nurse at the cancer clinic I work at started reading it last night, I decided to confess.
I have been reading a very “young adult” novel about vampires.
A few months ago, Ivan and I got to escape to Borders (don’t we pick exciting date options??) by ourselves without the little midget. It was a Sunday night (or some obscure night when you would think no one would be out) and the place was packed. Packed with teeny-boppers all dressed in very odd costumes. Some were wearing galoshes. Some were wearing wedding dresses. Some were quite dark and goth looking. And others had a vampire look to them. Strange. They had to all be around the average age of fifteen and not your stereotypical northwest Chicago suburban teenager. More like the socially awkward and maybe fringe type who hadn’t quite figured out how to wear makeup quite yet. There were stations set up all around the store–games, prizes, microphones blasting quiz questions about some characters I didn’t know.
I saw the cover of the book(s) being released but I still was quite confused. Let’s just put it this way: I was playing my “old lady” card. We ended up leaving because it was too “rowdy” and not conducive to our vegging out reading random books we happened to let our fingers land on.
Well, a few months later, I am in Borders again; lo and behold I pick up the first book in this very same series these teeny boppers were oogling over and wouldn’t you know…I got sucked in.
Not very complex writing and really probably not very good writing by any means. But the story was interesting and intriguing and I wanted to keep reading to find out what would happen. And it was definately brainless reading which was just what I needed last weekend, for my brain had turned to cobwebs and moosh.
So here is my true confession (Ali, don’t laugh): I am reading Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. And like I said, I am only confessing this to all of you because I found out that my coworker who is just a few years older than me is reading it too. So it must be okay, right?
All jokes aside, it really is a good story. A bit dark and creepy at times; but heck, it’s that time of year for scary and spooky stories.
