Tara's Bookshelf

Remembering

My first love:

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe: 

"It was many and many a year ago,

          In a kingdom by the sea,

    That a maiden there lived whom you may know

          By the name of ANNABEL LEE;

    And this maiden she lived with no other thought

          Than to love and be loved by me.

    I was a child and she was a child,

          In this kingdom by the sea;

    But we loved with a love that was more than love-

          I and my Annabel Lee;

    With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

          Coveted her and me.

    And this was the reason that, long ago,

          In this kingdom by the sea,

    A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

          My beautiful Annabel Lee;

    So that her highborn kinsman came

          And bore her away from me,

    To shut her up in a sepulchre

          In this kingdom by the sea.

    The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

          Went envying her and me-

    Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,

          In this kingdom by the sea)

    That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

          Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

    But our love it was stronger by far than the love

          Of those who were older than we-

          Of many far wiser than we-

    And neither the angels in heaven above,

          Nor the demons down under the sea,

    Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

    For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

    And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

    And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

    Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,

          In the sepulchre there by the sea,

          In her tomb by the sounding sea."

Writing

“To withdraw myself from myself has ever been my sole, my entire, my sincere motive in scribbling at all.”  -Lord Byron

So, I am writing a series of novels. In theory, that is. The only problem—I have no time to breathe, much less write for myself. Between work, school, marriage, ministry, and other familial/friendly duties, I am officially over my 24 hour per day limit. This idea has been weighing so heavily in my mind, I feel as if it is ripening to the point of falling off the vine, without my having the chance to pluck it off first. This excites and terrifies me all at once. What if it it slips away before I have the chance to bring it to fruition?

Another issue—when I do not write, I get a bit stir crazy. Without writing, I cannot get out of my own mind long enough to meet my sanity quota for the day. I have made due lately with reading—typically a great remedy—but that is quickly not becoming enough. I do not write for pleasure, I write for well-being. 

I am ready to start the next phase of my life.

Misgivings

Well…it seems I am not an avid blogger. Since my last post, I have finished Sense and Sensibility, read Jane Eyre, and have reread most of the Gemma Doyle Trilogy by Libba Bray—I am currently on book three The Sweet Far Thing. 

While I read mostly classic literature, I do enjoy a good fantasy novel every once in a while. The Gemma Doyle Trilogy is by far the best that I have read in that genre. The last time I read it, I had an incredibly strong reaction to them…especially the ending of the last book. The style is unique, and there are some amazing quotes that will be shared when I have time to find them. This trilogy changed the way I view contemporary fiction. 

There are times when I cannot seem to make myself connect with the world around me. To be honest, I always feel a bit disconnected with reality—but when this feeling is at its strongest, I am powerless to engage with the world. Fiction and literature are my only portals to something outside of myself during those times. I suppose my real issue, beneath it all, is the constant ache for something more. Why were we created with this intense need to be extraordinary? Maybe most people are able to overcome this need after the effects of adolescent egocentrism have worn away…but I do not foresee that in my own life. Sometimes I fear that this is the reason that I still have undying faith in God while those around me give it up…I need to know that there is more than this. 

“Can we really conquer chaos so easily? If that were so, I should be able to prune the pandemonium of my own soul into something neat and tidy rather than this maze of wants and needs and misgivings that has me forever feeling as if I cannot fit into the landscape of things.” - Gemma Doyle, The Sweet Far Thing, by Libba Bray