The Kindiverse Where everything's made up and the posts don't matter.

“Pastry Crust,” the New Hit Single

Peeta Mellark sings “Paper Planes” by M.I.A.

I puff like pastry, I crunch like crust
If you catch me burnin’ bread, I’ll chuck it in the dust
If you come around here, I bake it all day
I’ll throw some down in a second if you wait

Haymitch, always drinkin’ on trains,
Don’t wanna sponsor me ’cause I’ll lose the Hunger Games
There’s only one winner, and no one thinks it’s me
Even my mom says its Katniss Everdeen

All I wanna do is…
And uh…
And bake you a cake

Cato stabbed my thigh
When I screamed to save your life
Paint myself like a rock
Lethal poison from the nightlock

None of the careers have sponsors like us
We got medicine for our burns and cuts
I bet if we kiss they’ll send us more stuff
So if we’re goin’ home, you better pucker up

All I wanna do is…
And uh…
And bake you a cake

District Twelve, last stop post victory
Yeah, we’ve got more dough than a bakery
So, uh, don’t worry, Katniss

Some, some, some I, some I butter
Some I, some I just toast

A Wolf by Any Other Name

Today’s update to Poorly Drawn Comics features Loki (*puts on non-prescription glasses and lights an American Spirit* I was into Norse mythology before the Avengers movie) and his son Narfi. Just in case I’m not the only Norse mythology nerd out there, the mythology surrounding Loki’s two, possibly three sons is super confusing. One theory has it that Loki’s son Narfi, a.k.a. Nari, gets killed by Loki’s other son Vali who is the guy that gets turned into a wolf. The other theory is that Narfi turns into a wolf and has a brother named Nari. I’m pretty sure there’s a third version where Narfi, Nari, and Vali all exist and get turned into wolves, and the whole thing is an episode of Too Cute!

Fairy Tales and Rodeos

I banged out a couple more books this week. Don’t be too impressed, they’re both super short… and awesome.

1980s: Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block

I don’t know about the rest of the world, but I never heard of Weetzie Bat until K.L. Going told me I should read it (by “told me” I meant “suggested to her readers in Writing and Selling the YA Novel“), and I’m so glad I took her advice.

Weetzie Bat is what happens when you introduce Aesop to the Brothers Grimm at a Sex Pistols concert in L.A., sprinkle them with pixie dust, and get them all high on absinthe. But this isn’t one of those books that makes you feel the need to shower afterwards – it’s actually really sweet and dreamy. It’s just over 100 pages, but you actually love the characters long before that. Best of all, it’s the first of a whole series, so as soon as you realize you’re going to miss Weetzie and Dirk, you can just go get the next book (or all of them since they’ve made a compilation by now).

1960s: The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

Want to feel really awful about yourself? Hinton was 15 when she wrote what would become The Outsiders, and she got the contract from the publisher on her high school graduation day.

Want to maybe feel a teeny tiny bit better? The same year she started it, she got a D in Creative Writing. There may be hope for some of us.

Look, everyone has something to say about this book. It’s a damn good book. It’s a YA classic – probably the book that helped the YA genre get a little respect for once. So instead of going on and on about how the story sucked me in, how the themes of morality and loyalty were effective without being preachy, or how I cried even though I swore I wouldn’t, I’d like to point out the one thing this book really lacks:

Rodeos.

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Seriously. You can’t throw in all this talk about rodeos and then never actually bring us to one. I had to look up barrel racing (pictured above) because I had no idea what it was – and it was totally not what I thought it was (riding in a barrel while racing another person who is also riding in a barrel, perhaps downhill). But that could have been avoided had you given us a rodeo scene, S.E. Hinton. I wanted to see Dally beat the crap out of a rodeo clown, or maybe Johnny would be terrified of a bull, or perhaps Soda would be super adorable and patch up Ponyboy’s scrape that he got when he fell off his bronco. The possibilities were endless.

1940s:


I tried to read Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly, but it was crap. I’m so sorry, Maureen Daly. I couldn’t read over 300 pages of Boring Girl dating Boring Guy, no matter how much awesome 40s slang was in there. This is like Twilight minus the vampires and werewolves.

Fun Fact: When you google Maureen Daly, the picture that comes up with her mini-bio kinda looks like Mila Kunis at first glance.

Are You There, God? It’s Me, Kindig

In an effort to broaden my writing skills, I’ve been working on an independent study from Writers Digest on writing Young Adult. The main text for the course is Writing and Selling the YA Novel by K.L. Going, in which Going lists some of the most notable YA novels since the 1940s, suggesting we – my imaginary classmates and I – read one from each decade.

Challenge accepted.

I know I should probably have read these in chronological order, but instead I went with length/difficulty because that’s how I jam. So, now it’s time for me to read all the books I should’ve read a long time ago.

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1970s: Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume

I figured I should read one of the most well known YA (more like Middle Grade) books ever, if only for giggles. And ’cause, y’know, this is one of those books that comes up a lot in pop culture. Margaret gets a lot of flak as a period book, which, yeah, it kinda is. But there’s a deeper, way more interesting struggle going on as Margaret tries to decide on a religion, having been raised without one by her Jewish Dad and Christian Mom.

Margaret’s friendships and experiences in school are actually really convincing. I think we all knew/know a Nancy Wheeler and had that mortifying moment in class where everyone else seemed to have put way more effort into their projects than you’d even considered.

Margaret’s relationship with God and her internal (and often external) conflicts over religion steal the show in my opinion. Or they would if all that period stuff wasn’t in there. I guess that was to be more truthful about 12-year olds? Personally, I never wanted any part in Nature’s cruel booby prize, but I’m thinking I might’ve been in the minority.

Anyway, if you’re a children’s or YA writer, Margaret is one of those books you kind of have to read. If you do pick this one up, be sure to use Cartman’s voice as your inner narrator – it will really make the experience.

Wishing the Undead Would Die

I hate zombies. I really do. And not just because they’ve over-saturated EVERYTHING in pop culture these days. I mean, vampires did that too, but it didn’t tarnish my love for Louis and Lestat.

According to Eliza Skinner’s article “The Real World Fears Behind 8 Popular Movie Monsters” on Cracked.com back in 2008, the real fear behind zombies is simply the sheer number of people. Now, I don’t normally believe anything everything on Cracked, but as a claustrophobe, I’m willing to buy this one. The Ginger has seen me become a completely different – or at least angrier than usual – person on the Comic Con show floor, windmilling my T-Rex arms in an attempt to make a safe zone of personal space.

But, aside from my crazy person phobia, I’m also admittedly just downright sick of all these damn zombies. I don’t understand the appeal. Warm Bodies looks kind of funny but mostly awful – this time, because of the crappy they-can-cure-themselves-with-LURVE plot rather than the fact that there are zombies involved. Could this poop fest of a movie be the harbinger of the end of the zombie craze? God, I hope so.

Anyway, before this trend completely dies, check out the Sugar Shack’s latest update: Undead Easter Bunny.

George, the Frogs, and the Half-King

Today’s Poorly Drawn Comic depicts one of my favorite events in history: the Battle of Jumonville Glen. To get a really in-depth description of it, read The War that Made America by Fred Anderson. Actually, you can read pretty much anything by Fred Anderson and get at least a shout-out to this battle. I’m a Fred Anderson fangirl – he is seriously The Best, you guys.

What makes this a great moment in history is that it kind of sums up George Washington’s insanely awful early career. For a lot of people, it’s hard to imagine that Washington, his name now synonymous with American victory, was once kind of a bumbling failure. Not to mention, he comes, like, this close to dying in the French & Indian war at least three times and only escapes by sheer luck akin to that of Mr. Magoo.

I tried Wikipediaing the battle, but the entry doesn’t describe it with nearly as much irony (intended or otherwise) as Anderson does in his brief history of the war. But trust me, it went pretty much exactly how I drew it.

Confessions: I’m a historyphile with a BA in US History. I talk about 300-year old dead guys like I knew them. I only played the third Assassin’s Creed because it took place during the American Revolution. I went to Colonial Williamsburg on my honeymoon and again for my birthday last year. I do more cooking during power outages than at other times just so I can pretend I’m living in the Pennsylvania frontier of the mid-eighteenth century. I can’t make this shit up.

Book Rant: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

This is a book too good to write a review about without somehow ruining the still fresh memory of it – like trying to look directly at a star only to have its light diminish in your concentrated focus, or grasping to a recent dream as it slips from your memory faster the harder you try to hold on. At least, I certainly couldn’t do it right.

Never before have I laughed and cried so much in the space of 313 very short pages. And I’m not talking a simpering giggle here and there or a couple tears once or twice throughout. I’m talking husband-waking guffaws in one sentence followed in the next by such moving commentary that I had to (more than once) set the book down for a minute so I could sob unrestrained.

If you’ve ever seen a Vlog Brothers video, you know John Green is an unfairly smart and funny guy. Even so, I was not prepared for the depth, wit, and honesty with which he crafted this story about the struggles and mortality of cancer kids, the destinies of the favorite fictional characters of said fictional characters, and the demands of the universe in general.

Green makes me think he’s secretly a 16-year old girl with cancer, his voice is so convincing. He never talks down to the young adult audience here and never tries to sound hip. But whether he’s being smartly funny or devastatingly tragic, no page goes unmarked by a poignant observation on the fleetingness of life, the infinity of joy, and the looming prospect of oblivion.

 

Poor Ben Jonson

The thrilling conclusion of Yon Monologues of Vengeance is up under Poorly Drawn Comics! Happy Friday!

Hate is in the Air

Happy Valentine’s Day. There, I said it.

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As the Ginger recovers from food poisoning, my car and the icy weather ganged up to screw with me. After driving to work while manually holding my driver’s side door shut, my car (Bosie) decided to lock me in and never let me go. Something between a seizure and a demonic possession came over Bosie’s locking mechanism, forcing me to climb out on the passenger side. Maybe it’s Bosie’s way of showing he loves me. Apparently he gets his advice from controlling boyfriends, or maybe Lifetime.

Anyway, yet another page of Yon Monologues is up, and this time Shakes has finally found the man he’s been hunting all over London.

Don’t Panic!

Hope you guys like the site’s new look. I promise, I won’t make a habit of changing everything all the time. I changed a few things around to be a little more organized, so hopefully it works!

Anyway, enjoy some bonus updates to Yon Monologues of Vengeance – it’s got its own dropdown under the Poorly Drawn Comics page now! The next time we see The Bard, he will finally find the man he’s been hunting all over town… Or maybe not. If you’re a lit geek, you just might recognize the guy – unless my art skills really are as terrible as I think.

Also, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day for those of you who care about that sort of thing. I’m on a diet this year, so I don’t care.