In Which Thea is Not Exactly a Feminist

My younger brother and sister (and probably my parents) get a little tired of me pointing out the overwhelming number of male main characters in movies, and the lack of a realistic sample of female main characters in books.

I know my sister didn't like it when, after we watched the trailers just before the Hobbit, I pointed out that not one of them portrayed a movie with a female main character. This wasn't a comment on the apparent quality or creativity of the movies (because we were both pleasantly surprised with the apparent originality of Oblivion, and can't wait to see it). This wasn't to say that those movies were somehow evil for all having male leads. All I was saying was that every single one had a male lead.

You know what you say with the main character of your story? You show through who they are, the things they do, the values they hold, the change(s) they undergo, and the consequences at the end of it all what makes a person important, what makes them worth thinking about. And, whatever you say, if you say it often enough, without any notable challenge or alternative, people tend to believe it.

Why Make a Book Series Like a TV Show?

Due to an unfortunate spasm of boredom that severely sprained the dignity of several cortices of my brain yesterday, I won't be continuing the series about Adam and Eve. To be entirely honest, I'm not sure why I started it. Ah well. My apologies.

Different Dialects

When a director makes a movie based off of a book, there are always changes made to the story. This is because of one or more of several reasons:

1) Movies and books are fundamentally different formats, and so have to be done in different ways.
2) Two hours isn't enough time to do everything in the book.
3) Whoever was in charge of the movie clearly only read a description of the book and then used the other reasons as excuses for their shoddy work (I'm looking at YOU, makers of Ella Enchanted. *glares*).

How the Value of Art is Like the Meaning of Life

Dear five year old me,

I discovered the point of art! Remember when you were wondering why you even kept those stickers in your sticker book? Sure, they were pretty, and it was nice to open up the book and look at them, but they didn't do anything for you.

What would happen if you had all the stickers in the world that you loved and then there were no more to gain? You'd have walls and books and bedframes full of stickers, and you wouldn't be happy with them. Once you had them, all you could do with them was look at them sometimes, and what was the gain in looking? What did that do for anything? They couldn't do anything to add value to the world; they would just sit there and look back at you as if to ask:

Out Now: Dreaming of Her and Other Stories! :D

Becoming Who I Already Am

I found some old sketchbooks of mine that I filled up years ago, and decided I'd go through them from the very beginning and see how my drawings have changed. It felt very nostalgic, remembering drawing all those pictures. Then, as I came to the end, I realized something interesting about my writing, including this blog. In order to explain this better, I'm going to talk about horses.

First, the best picture of a horse I've drawn to date (please ignore how dark the signature is; I'll make it better when my computer is more cooperative):