young people are narcissists
who is normal?
why don’t they have big hyped up award shows for books
best male/female character
best plot development
best plot twist
I would definitely watch this award show, celebrating it with formal attire dinner parties.
Hi everyone! So the book came out last week and it’s been kind of a whirlwind since then, although I will say that I have achieved a life-dream, which is to utter the phrase “go look at pictures of baby otters” live on Fox News.
I’m sorting through all the book giveaway entries, and will have some winners announced by Wednesday; in the meantime, go check these answers out because oh man, you guys are so wonderfully adult and are slaying it out there.
In the meantime, here is a great guest entry from LeotardSanity:
The Internet is a great place to learn how not to have a meaningful discussion. Rather than respectfully sharing our point of view, any lengthy conversation on sensitive matters such as politics, religion, race, sexuality, or the Oxford comma quickly devolves into a lot of mudslinging and comparing those on the other side to the Third Reich. If you’re wanting anyone’s opinions to actually be swayed by the argument you present, whether on the Internet or in real life, here are some tips to remember:
This makes sense to me. I learn so much from this woman and her advice from her new book.
GENRE: s o u t h e r n g o t h i c
Characteristics: deeply flawed, disturbing or disorienting characters; decayed settings; grotesque imagery and situations; sinister events; violence, often for the sake of forcing a character to abandon their innocence.
Common Themes: poverty; racism and classism; alienation; the frailty of innocence.
What a great way to describe the subgenre of Gothic Literature!
Necklaces for Different Necklines Created by Imogen Lamport from Inside Out Style here. There’s also a link to Polyvore for all the individual pieces. First seen on Donatella’s inspiration & realisation Facebook page.
Good to know.
I love the cabinets, floors, countertops, appliances, and stove backsplash. The lighting fixtures are ok, but the paint color on the walls has to go.
When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty. The world teaches you that the way you exist in it is disgusting — you watch boys cringe backward in your dorm room when you talk about your period, blue water pretending to be blood in a maxi pad commercial. It is little things, and it is constant. In a food court in a mall, after you go to the gynecologist for the first time, you and your friend talk about how much it hurts, and over her shoulder you watch two boys your age turn to look at you and wrinkle their noses: the reality of your life is impolite to talk about. The world says that you don’t have a right to the space you occupy, any place with men in it is not yours, you and your body exist only as far as what men want to do with it. At fifteen, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. At almost thirty, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met still somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. They are children. They are children.
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