Seriously. Stop right now if you have not seen Star Trek Into Darkness because this post is RIDDLED with spoilers.

I am totally not kidding you. Go away, if you have not seen the movie. Truly, SCRAM. IT IS NOT SAFE FOR YOU HERE.

Okay, are all you people gone? Are we now left with only those who have seen STID?

GREAT.

Now, if any of you remaining have seen STID but NOT Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, and you find yourself wanting to watch that movie knowing as little about it as possible, you should also GO FAR AWAY (I say with love).

Also, if you are uncomfortable with people a) nitpicking movies within an inch of their lives or b) flagrant displays of nerdiness — specifically Trek-related nerdiness — you should probably also jump into an escape pod right now because this ship is not for you. That’s an ORDER. (You see? It has already begun.)

~*~

Now that that’s done, let’s get down to business.

Friday night, I saw Star Trek Into Darkness. I enjoyed it, yes I did, for reasons I list below, and I will probably go see it again while it’s still in theaters. But I also had some serious issues with it, which I also list below.

And I would LOVE LOVE LOVE it if we could get some dialogue going in the comments about this — from die-hard Trekkies and the newly initiated alike. I mean, I am literally bouncing around with nerd energy as I write this, and it’s taking all my willpower not to forsake all responsibilities and marathon everything Star Trek for the next several days. So I will satisfy myself with this blog post.

THINGS I LIKED ABOUT THE NEW STAR TREK MOVIE

THE MUSIC: Sometimes composer Michael Giacchino’s Star Trek music feels a bit too cartoonish. For example, I never listen to his score for the 2009 Star Trek film because it’s just so very loud and unsubtle, and I find the orchestration less than compelling (although I do love the main theme and the track “Enterprising Young Men,” and I understand that he is probably trying to pay homage to the original series music, which was loud and unsubtle). I was pleased that he (appropriately) took the score to a darker place with this new movie. The tracks “London Calling” and “The Kronos Wartet” were superb, especially the former, which is my favorite of the album (and coincidentally sounds like it belongs to a different movie altogether).

THE SCENES “LONDON CALLING” ACCOMPANIES: The opening sequence in London during which Khan saves that Starfleet officer’s daughter was wonderful — ominous, touching, beautifully scored and shot. I was more scared of Khan here than I was throughout the rest of the movie.

UHURA: I was not a fan of Uhura/Spock in the first movie. They were cute and all, but they just didn’t sit right with me, and maybe that’s because I’m a stodgy hardcore Trekkie, and maybe it’s because of my issues with New!Spock (which I’ll get into later), but regardless, I didn’t like them very much. However, I warmed to them in this new movie, and I think it’s because Uhura actually got to do stuff. She was more than just “Spock’s girlfriend” in this movie. How badass was she during the scene with the Klingons?! Saldana nailed the crap out of her Klingon lines, and she also kicked ass when the fighting broke out.

ADMIRAL PIKE: I was so sad to see him die because let’s be honest, everything about this man is as fine as his face. (I may have an enormous a bit of a crush.) But I knew he was a goner during that bar scene with Kirk. No way do you, as a secondary character/father figure, get to have a touching emotional scene with the main character so early in the movie and survive.

THE CAST (MOSTLY): THIS CAST. I love them. I love them all. They have fantastic chemistry, they are compelling as individual characters, and on a more superficial note, they are ridiculously attractive. I would sit and watch a movie of them on a routine mission cataloging gaseous planetary anomalies in Beta Quadrant. They wouldn’t even have to save the universe. They could just go about their business cleaning the engine room and bantering over the Romulan ale McCoy snuck onboard, and I’d be happy. Somehow this cast manages to make us feel like they really know and care about each other, although this is only their second movie together and they didn’t have a TV series to build up that rapport. (If you are wondering to whom the “MOSTLY” refers, just wait for it.)

THE SHINY SHINY LENS FLARE EXPLOSIONS BOOM BOOM FAST SHIPS: I will say this for J. J. Abrams: He knows where to put the camera and how to use his massive budget. The movie looks fantastic. I saw it in IMAX 3D, and it was audio/visual bliss. (Although the 3D element, as always, left me indifferent. Basically I am still not convinced of 3D’s artistic merit. I mean, 3D Gatsby? Let’s be real: 3D = 3 x Da money.)

CHRIS PINE: I absolutely love his interpretation of Kirk. He has just enough Shatner-esque swagger to make Kirk seem familiar, while still making Kirk completely his own incarnation in the context of this new universe. This is a guy who continually gets the crap kicked out of him and yet keeps getting back up afterward with twinkly-eyed determination. And there’s some real depth there, too. The moment when he confesses to Spock, voice cracking, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” (or something along those lines) made me well up. Loved that glimpse of Kirk’s vulnerability.

CHRIS PINE’S BLUE EYES: They are stunning. They give Daniel Craig’s eyes a run for their money, and y’all know how I feel about Daniel Craig, so.

SIMON PEGG: Scotty didn’t get to do much in the 2009 film other than serve as comic relief, so I was thrilled to see how much screen time he got here. The expression on his face when Kirk accepts his resignation kicked me in the gut. And the true title of this film should be Star Trek: Scotty Saves EVERYONE, All the Time. (I still hate his little alien sidekick, though. He just makes me cringe. That whole element tries way too hard to be cute.)

(SOME OF) THE NODS TO ESTABLISHED STAR TREK CANON: The design of the Klingon ships was reminiscent of the Birds of Prey we’ve seen before, although not nearly as pretty. I liked the design of the admirals’ uniforms, which reminded me of Admiral Kirk’s uniform from Star Trek: The Motion Picture. And speaking of that movie, I could have SWORN (and someone help me out here and let me know I’m not crazy) that the shot where Scotty pulls up to the giant hangar in which the new Starfleet warship is being built, is a direct replica of a shot from Star Trek: The Motion Picture, when V’ger destroys space station Epsilon IX.

THE KLINGONS: I LOVED seeing Klingons. I love Klingons, and I’m actually hoping this movie is setting up the larger arc of a Federation-Klingon war. Although . . . how did it take seriously only like 45 seconds for the Enterprise to warp to Qo’noS? And why “Kronos” instead of “Qo’noS?” Come on, audiences can’t figure out that phonetically the word is Kronos but it’s spelled Qo’noS? I realize that this is a minor quibble and I’m probably just being ridiculous, but still. Also, was that Praxis, the Klingon moon, that had crashed into Qo’noS? Will Abrams’ next Trek film be an alternate universe remake of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country?

DAT SHIP: Every time I see the Enterprise, I tear up. That’s a beautiful ship, and she always will be — no bloody A, B, C, or D (or E).

IT WAS FUN: Watching this movie was a really enjoyable viewing experience, plain and simple. I gasped, I laughed, I cried. In the moment, I thoroughly enjoyed myself (for the most part). It wasn’t until the credits started rolling that I started questioning things.

THINGS I DIDN’T LIKE ABOUT THE NEW STAR TREK MOVIE

KHAN: Yeah. I’m gonna say it. There was no need for Khan to be in this movie. Absolutely none. The revelatory “My name . . . is Khan” scene fell flat. All I could think was, “But . . . why did they decide to do this? Just so we would all oooh and ahhh?” His true identity felt entirely superfluous. And for people who don’t know the original series, the meaning of Cumberbatch’s true identity is inconsequential. They don’t know who Khan is, or what this means. The “rogue special ops agent defecting and turning terrorist as he tries to stop an admiral from militarizing Starfleet” thing was interesting enough on its own. He could have been an actual guy named John Harrison and the movie would have been exactly the same, minus all the “aren’t we clever” TWOK references. Khan’s inclusion felt so, so very disingenuous to me, like they shoehorned Khan into the script as some sort of ill-conceived homage. Also, it was kind of . . .

LAZY STORYTELLING: Basically this movie is The Wrath of Khan: Alternate Universe Version, and I wish they had been more original. I mean, the central conceit of this whole reboot franchise is that this is an alternate universe — same characters, yeah, but literally anything can happen here. New stories, new conflicts, new wars. A new Federation. And yet they basically just remade TWOK here, with not enough compelling new material to justify it. Why didn’t they just go with John Harrison, rogue Section 31 agent? Wouldn’t that have made more sense and been more timely, without unnecessarily bringing in Khan and referencing the Eugenics Wars without any real narrative depth?

NOT ENOUGH KHAN: As a villain, I thought he was sorely lacking, and I’m not sure if this is a result of the writing or the acting, although I’m leaning toward the former, as Cumberbatch showed serious promise in his early scenes (and apparently he’s quite good on some show about some detective or whatever). I read somewhere that Abrams wanted this to be his The Dark Knight of the Star Trek movies, and I can see where he might have been trying for that, but it simply didn’t work. One of the things that made The Dark Knight so great was a tremendous villainous presence from the Joker, and Khan simply didn’t have enough screen time to feel like anything other than a ho-hum plot device rather than a fully realized character in his own right. Another thing that made The Dark Knight so great was that it did not pull any punches. It went to some truly dark places and stayed there, and didn’t ignore the consequences of those dark places. Which brings me to . . .

KIRK’S “DEATH”: What I’ve seen dubbed the “Jesus tribble” telegraphed pretty plainly that someone was going to die and Khan’s “superblood” via the Jesus tribble was going to bring that someone back. So Kirk dies, and that scene between him and Spock was actually quite touching. It was lovingly acted and directed, and I cried. Even though I figured they were going to Jesus tribble him, which took away much of the scene’s emotional verisimilitude, seeing Scotty so upset and Kirk saying, “Spock, I’m scared” gutted me. But then sure enough, he’s alive again not ten minutes later! So it was like they wanted to pay wink-wink-nudge-nudge homage to the iconic Spock’s death scene from The Wrath of Khan without the threat in the air of someone actually dying and staying dead, and therefore having to deal with the consequences of a major character dying. (Say what you will about Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, it at least wasn’t an easy fix, and we had a whole movie full of grieving and uncertainty and questions of mortality and what one man’s life is worth and death and aging before Spock came back — in a much more poignant and organic fashion than Jesus tribble, by the way.) Also, now that we have Khan’s superblood — and access to him and his crew all in stasis — will they replicate that blood and stock all Starfleet ships with it so that no one ever dies? That would seem to eliminate a lot of suspense in future films. And, since they did have access to those 72 other genetically engineered crew members, why couldn’t they just have killed Khan and used the blood from one of the other superhumans to save Kirk?

THE MOVIE AFTER KIRK’S “DEATH”: Just as with Spock’s death in TWOK, Kirk’s death was the dramatic climax of this film. But unlike in TWOK, they kept this movie going for an unnecessary and utterly uninteresting extra few minutes after the death during which Khan crashed his ship into a bunch of skyscrapers without any real repercussions for the characters or story. And then BOOM Kirk’s alive. And BOOM Khan’s in stasis again. (Is he coming back? Ugh, I hope not.) And BOOM it’s a year later or whatever and everything’s coming up daisies again.

“KHAAAAAAAAAAAAN”: In my crowded theater, everyone burst out laughing when Spock yelled out Khan’s name after Kirk died. I was one of them. It was embarrassing and unnecessary and completely ruined the pathos of the preceding scene. Shatner as Kirk yelling “KHAAAAAN!” from TWOK has at this point endured thirty years of pop culture parodies, so to include it here felt like a slap in the face to all of us invested in the tender moment between Kirk and Spock. At least in TWOK, we had a moment to react to Kirk’s scream before the next scene began (and it didn’t come hot on the heels of the film’s emotional climax). In STID, we immediately cut to more BOOM BOOM BOOM EXPLOSIONS in a jarring shift that just left me feeling irritated. (For more on the original “KHAAAAAN!” line read this awesome article with TWOK director Nicholas Meyer. The article brings up the interesting point that Kirk’s “KHAAAAAN!” line might have at least in part been to convince Khan of the “hours would seem like days” trick Kirk and Spock were pulling.)

ZACHARY QUINTO’S NEW!SPOCK: This might be an unpopular opinion, but after two movies I can now safely say that I am not a fan of Quinto’s Spock. As much as I like Quinto, he lacks gravitas. When I watch him, I feel like I’m watching someone at a convention cosplaying Spock. I know he’s a young man in these movies, and I understand that they’re trying to emphasize Spock’s human half in the reboot, and he therefore won’t be like the Spock I know — but I just haven’t gotten on board with his portrayal yet, and that makes me sad because Quinto himself seems great.

CAROL MARCUS’S GRATUITOUS NUDITY: Was it really necessary for us to see Carol Marcus in her underwear? If we needed to see her change uniforms for her away mission to deactivate the warhead with McCoy, could we also then see McCoy changing? I mean, come on, if we’re going to have gratuitous underwear shots, let’s have equal opportunity underwear shots and strip Karl Urban down to his skivvies too. Or, you know what? As Ross says, “Why does anyone have to be naked?“

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH AS KHAN: This was my first exposure to Cumberbatch. The man has an excellent voice, I will say that. But the casting of a pasty white English gent as “Khan Noonien Singh” is ridiculous. When Spock Prime said the words, “Khan Noonien Singh” I had to stop myself from laughing because the idea of Cumberbatch as anyone named Khan Noonien Singh is just that — laughable. It was problematic enough IN THE 1960S, LIKE A HALF-CENTURY AGO for the showrunners to cast a Mexican gent as an Indian character . . . but to cast a white English guy as an Indian character seems either completely thoughtless or the result of J. J. Abrams being so obsessed with secrecy that he deliberately cast Cumberbatch to throw speculators off the scent. “No way could that white dude be playing Khan,” he wanted us to say. And we did, and now he’s somewhere cackling to himself. But then again, perhaps it would have been problematic for them to cast a man with brown skin as this antagonist whose final act of villainy is crashing his ship into a bunch of skyscrapers. I think they were damned if they did, damned if they didn’t on this one. But I still think the whitewashing of Khan’s character is problematic and merits discussion. Especially since I wasn’t too impressed with Cumberbatch’s performance, so the already thin “But he was the best man for the job!” argument doesn’t really hold up.

NOT ENOUGH BONES: In the original series/movies, Kirk/Spock/McCoy were the Enterprise‘s Three Musketeers. Obviously in the Abrams films, the new trio is Kirk/Spock/Uhura, and that’s fine; I’m all for Uhura having more screen time, especially if they continue to expand her role in the next film as they did in this one. I just miss my surly old doctor, is all. Plus, KARL URBAN. The man is delish.

IN SHORT

Star Trek Into Darkness: Into what darkness? Darkness we gloss over and don’t commit to and Jesus tribble away. Also, what happened to the colon in this title? We are literally Star Trekking into darkness? Oh. Okay. So edgy! But I will still see it again and buy it on Blu-ray because the cast is great and it is, after all, still Star Trek. Also, Scotty.

~*~

And I’ll stop there because I have just written 3000 words about Star Trek before even making myself take a shower, and while it was fun, it might also be a bit worrisome.

Sound off in the comments! Did you see the new Star Trek movie? Do you agree/disagree with me on anything I’ve said in this post? Did anyone else see the Epsilon IX reference?? (I’m seriously tempted to bust out my Star Trek: The Motion Picture Blu-ray to verify this.)

~*~

I poked around online and saw that someone had made a snide comment about something I had done with one of my books. It wasn’t directed at my writing, but at me, and the comment was such that I felt bad about myself not only as an author but as a person.

I know I should stay away from reviews. I know that I am asking for trouble by daring to look at them, and most of the time I don’t. Not everyone will like my books, or me, and that’s okay. But I did look this morning, and I can’t change that now. I had woken up feeling energized and productive, optimistic about my day. Then I saw this thing, this one comment, this speck of a blight on an otherwise fine day, and I felt myself deflate. The comment pricked a hole in my happiness, and I felt confidence begin oozing out, abandoning me.

My first thought, as I sat there experiencing this, was: “I’ve felt this before, and recently.”

In fact, I felt it the other day at the gym.

Now, I’ve never been a skinny girl. Even when I was a child, limbs everywhere, spending my evenings running around the neighborhood with the kids down the street, I was never one of those people with a naturally slim stature. And when I entered middle school, and there was less running around the neighborhood and more studying (and more practicing my trumpet, and a sudden abundance of sweets and snacks available at the school cafeteria during lunch), I started noticing a change in my body.

My awareness of others and how they perceived me was changing too.

Seriously, like this.

I started noticing how my body compared to others’ — not only to the bodies of my friends, but the bodies of celebrities, people in advertisements, people on magazine covers. I started noticing that my hair was unfashionably wavy — not in a glamorous way, but rather in a Hermione Granger pre-Goblet of Fire way — and started spending hours in front of the mirror trying to make it lie flat. I wanted it to look like the hair of the popular girls. Of course it never did look like that, and sometimes this made me angry and sometimes it made me cry. My skin was changing, too; I started experiencing breakouts, and thus began years of trying different medicines and creams and dermatologists. I started wearing make-up to hide my skin, which of course made it worse. I started examining every inch of myself in the mirror with a harsh, critical eye.

For much of middle school, I felt somehow less than all the much prettier, much less awkward girls around me. I was obsessed with creating a different image for myself, a more like them image, and sometimes it hurt. After all, we aren’t meant to be something we’re not.

High school was better. In fact, I pretty much adored high school. I was still awkward, but I found peace in, of all things, band. I excelled at playing my instrument and I earned leadership positions, and I studied hard and continued to make great grades. I didn’t always like myself when I looked in the mirror, but who does? The important thing was that I had great friends, and that I was busy. Even when I felt at my ugliest, I didn’t have time to linger in the resulting sadness for long. I was just too busy.

Then college hit. For a while, all was well. Then I changed my major and slipped into a period of depression. I would say that throughout my early twenties, I floundered personally and creatively. (Again, who doesn’t to some extent? But regardless . . . ) I ate too much and did too little. I gained a good deal of weight, which I didn’t fully realize at the time, but now that I’m much healthier, I can look back and see it, and I cringe.

Things are different now. I’m a writer, and I’m happy. I’ve found what I’m supposed to be doing, and it’s not always easy, but it is always right. That, among other things, has given me the confidence to start taking care of myself. I’m eating better than I probably ever have, and I’m more active than I’ve been since those early neighborhood ruffian days. On the whole, I am proud of myself, and happy.

And yet . . .

The other day, I saw a woman at the gym. She was one of those impossibly gorgeous and fit women who doesn’t seem quite real, like she was magicked to life directly from the pages of the latest issue of Shape magazine. There I was, enjoying my workout, taking pride in the sweat dripping down my back, the burning of my muscles, and, yes, even my reflection — because I could see the evidence of the work I’ve been doing, how my body is changing and becoming stronger — but then.

But then. I saw the woman.

Seriously, like this. Except blonde. And not Kate Beckinsale.

Let’s call her Elizabeth Hornswoggle because I don’t know her real name and Friends never gets old. (Oh, it does, you say? Well, you are wrong.) The minute I saw Swoggle, I felt that same prick in my happy bubble, that same stab of sudden vulnerability and inadequacy and shame that I felt when I read that comment this morning. All at once, the fact that I had only a few minutes ago felt great about myself and all the work I had done meant absolutely nothing. I looked at my reflection and felt ugly. I felt less than. I got angry at myself: Why did you eat that cookie the other day? Why don’t you run more often? Why don’t you look like Swoggle over there?

I pushed myself through what was left of my workout, though Swoggle had drained my confidence. However, I spent much of the time inspecting my reflection for flaws and probably not getting as much out of my exercise as I should have.

But here’s the thing, and I realized this later, once I worked past that initial sickening surge of self-loathing:

1) Swoggle didn’t drain my confidence. I allowed myself to lose confidence at the sight of her. I allowed myself to have this unhealthy reaction.

2) The question Why don’t you look like Swoggle over there? is totally irrelevant because I will never be Swoggle.

I am not Swoggle. I am Claire, and my body is not hers, but mine. Instead of allowing the sight of her to make me feel bad about myself, instead of wishing obsessively for a body like hers and letting the impossibility of that derail me, I should focus on me — my body, my workout, my health. What I can do for myself within the confines of my own life and its demands upon me.

I have worked hard to become a healthier, more active person, and in my more positive moments, I am proud of that. I have always struggled with eating too much, with inactivity, with hating my own reflection. I have never been a skinny girl, but it’s not about being skinny, and it’s not about trying to be Swoggle; it’s about being healthy, and happy, and me, and I’m finally getting to that point.

In fact, incidents like what happened with Swoggle occur far less frequently now. More often than not, I look in the mirror and am happy with what I see. I have learned to be kinder to my reflection, and to myself in general. I am still learning.

Unfortunately — and surprisingly — I think it has become easier for me to adopt this positive mindset about my body than about my writing. And the really sad thing is, I see this so often in other writers as well.

How I think writers — including me — often perceive themselves. Source

We writers are by nature a neurotic, obsessive, highly emotional bunch, and many of us are also natural information seekers.

We are curious, inquisitive. We want to know things. So we seek out new life forms and new civilizations information about what others are writing, and how they are writing, and how quickly they are writing, and we fixate.

We allow ourselves to feel somehow less than if we are not living up to whatever phantom expectations we have set for ourselves by comparing our work to the work of others — or, perhaps even more destructively, trying to make our work like someone else’s.

We read beautiful books and instead of thinking for a brief moment, “Wow, that was great, I wish I could have written that,” we think, “I will never be able to write like that,” and we dwell on that feeling of less than, of lack. Instead of accepting that of course we will never write like that because that author is that author, and we are us, we allow ourselves to feel inadequate, or that we are doing something wrong.

We allow our minds to take us to these unhealthy, unproductive places that so distort our own perception that when we look at our work, we see not the beautiful parts, not the strengths, but the flaws. We ignore the truths that we are working hard, that we are learning, that we are growing as writers with every new word we write, until we cannot perceive those truths at all. Our perceptions of ourselves become so distorted, in fact, that one offhand comment, one thoughtless remark, can shatter the confidence we have worked so hard to build.

Why do we do this?

Because we are trying too hard to be Swoggle — to be the girl on the cover of the magazine, to be the popular girl, to be the bestseller, to be the cool girl who always has something clever to say, to write faster, to run farther, to look younger, to write cleaner drafts.

But we will never be Swoggle, friends. Why waste our time trying? It’s not about being Swoggle.

It’s about seeing Swoggle and still being able to look at your work, look at yourself, and know that it may not be Swoggle but it’s still pretty damn great.

It’s about seeing Swoggle doing her thing and then going right back to doing yours — continuing to work, continuing to learn and grow and build, and push yourself, always pushing yourself — with sweat dripping down your back and your fingers cramping and your brain hurting and MAN you could use a cookie right now and BY GOD YOU SHALL HAVE IT. And you will still think you are beautiful and capable after eating it because you are.

(It may even be about Swoggle saying something mean about you, or giving you a disdainful look because you do not look super attractive when you work out, and you not giving a flying flip because you’ve got too much to do and accomplish and learn to care what anyone else thinks, and what kind of a name is Swoggle anyway?)

It’s about letting your Hermione Granger hair flow free like the WIND, and loving your flaws just as much as your strengths, because without any of them you wouldn’t be you, and the things that you can do — your potential, your beauty, your stories — wouldn’t exist.

Let’s look in the mirror and be proud of what we see. Let’s look at our work and be proud of what we can do — what we have done, what we are doing, what we could do and will do because we’ll never stop working. Let’s work so hard that we feel too good about our progress to care what others think, or what others do or look like or say.

Let’s be kind to ourselves.

Let’s be ourselves.

And let’s rock it.

~*~

In the meantime, any teachers/librarians who missed the giveaway, fear not! I’d still love to send your school/library a pack of signed bookmarks and a Cavendish study guide. Also, please feel free to visit my Author Visits page if you’d like to set up a Skype or in-person visit with me!

~*~

I will never forget my elementary school librarian.

Her name was Mrs. Bailey. She had tight brown curls, wore bright red lipstick and painted her fingernails to match, and she had a spectacular voice. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her whenever she read aloud to us; she was my wardrobe to Narnia in human form, transporting me to the land of words and adventure. When I was in third grade and wrote my first ever book — a melodramatic gripping adventure about a wild horse named Cinnamon — she read it and praised me with the kind of enthusiasm that ensured I would remember her forever.

an excerpt from THE JOURNEY: omg y’all they are totally in love. epic mustang love.

I will never forget my first grade teacher.

Her name was Mrs. Young. She had short blond hair and a voice like Kate Mulgrew. Once, when I smarted off in her class (safely behind her back, I thought), she caught me doing it and made me “sign the book.” SIGN THE BOOK. I don’t even remember what signing the ominous notebook kept at the back of the classroom did to one’s academic record, but I remember my mortification, my crushing goody two-shoes guilt. (“What was I thinking? Mocking the teacher?! I am going straight to Hell.”) Mrs. Young liked me, but she did not put up with my precocious crap, and I loved her for it. When I wrote the abovementioned opus about wild horse Cinnamon — and her doomed lover, Desert Dust, and the tragically orphaned filly, Mischief, who liked to wear flowers in her hair for some reason? — I showed it to Mrs. Young. She read it and loved it and requested a copy.

I will never forget her, or Mrs. Bailey.

For countless students across the country, it’s the same: The teachers and librarians they see every day affect them in immeasurable, invaluable ways. They shape their futures and encourage their dreams.

Today, I want to give back just a little to these remarkable people by giving away ten hardcover copies of my first book, The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls, to teachers and librarians!

I know that budgets can be strict, and you may not always be able to purchase the books you want to add to your classroom or school libraries. Hopefully this will help get Cavendish into the hands of kids who wouldn’t otherwise be able to read it, and add another book to collections that may need a bit of a boost.

The first ten librarians, school media specialists, or teachers who respond to this post will receive Cavendish, as well as a set of signed Cavendish bookmarks and a copy of the Cavendish reading guide (which is still in the works but will be mailed to you upon completion). Additionally, I will gladly personalize your copy of Cavendish, making it out to your classroom or school library!

Each of the first ten respondents will also receive a set of signed bookmarks for my second book, The Year of Shadows, and a few The Year of Shadows stickers (great for summer reading prize packs, random rewards, etc.)!

And one grand prize winner, randomly selected out of the first ten to respond, will receive one of my very few, very precious The Year of Shadows ARCs!

To win the above goodies — and for a chance to win an ARC of The Year of Shadows! — all you have to do is fill out this form (now closed). Again, the first ten respondents (U.S./Canada only, please) will get Cavendish and the swag listed above, and then I will randomly select one of you to receive the ARC as well.

That’s it!

Once again — because it can’t be said enough — librarians and educators: You ROCK. Thank you for all you do, and thank you for stopping by!

~*~

I didn’t see The Matrix in theaters, but I discovered it on DVD before the release of the sequels and was promptly enamored. Then, in 2003, The Matrix Reloaded came out, and for me it became one of those movies that I evangelized, full of burgeoning Matrix mania. I bought the score and listened to it on repeat for months. I binged on Neo/Trinity fanfiction to the point where I started dreaming about it. I dragged friends and family to the theaters with me so I could see the movie multiple times.

(As you can imagine, watching with my younger brother and mother was a bit awkward for me during the scene that intercuts between the “Zion rave” and Neo and Trinity having sex. But I suffered through it OH SO NOBLY because I was determined my family should experience the same sense of awe I did when watching this movie. I was hard-pressed not to turn to them at every awesome moment and scream, “ISN’T THIS JUST THE BEST?!” Perpetually cool Morpheus stepping out of his totaled car with katana in hand. Neo catching a falling Trinity just before she crashes into a car. Trinity . . . well, any scene with Trinity. I will admit with only a small amount of shame that I sometimes still pretend to be Trinity when I want to channel my inner unruffled badass.)

Then The Matrix Revolutions came out, and the backlash against the sequels — which had begun with Reloaded — escalated. People criticized Revolutions for all sorts of reasons (Convoluted! Pretentious! Too much real world, not enough Matrix! Too many auxiliary characters we don’t care about!) but none of them made sense to me. Revolutions left me exhilarated, emotionally gutted, and creatively inspired, and I loved every second of it. Whenever I heard people bash it, I got so defensive and seeing-red angry that it was kind of like this:

This weekend, M and I watched the Matrix trilogy for the first time in years. We’d been feeling under the weather for a few days and wanted a mellow, movie marathon kind of weekend (not that the Matrix trilogy is mellow, but you get my meaning).

It was our first time watching the movies on Blu-ray (we found them for cheap at our local record/movie store), and WOW was it fantastic. The picture and sound quality were astonishing, and the house practically shook during all the big action set pieces.

I wondered, when we sat down to begin our viewing, if I would still feel as passionately about these movies now, ten years later. I wondered if I would now, older and wiser, only be able to see the things for which people criticized them. Would I, as is the case with so many others, love the first movie and hate the sequels?

In short: Yes, no, and hell no.

I think part of the reason people speak with such fondness for and appreciation of The Matrix is that it was so different from what had come before it. It revolutionized the way the general public looked at science fiction movies, it was slick and fun, and its philosophical dialogue hadn’t yet become as elaborate as it did in the sequels. The conclusion was satisfying but open-ended, leaving the viewer with many questions about what would happen next.

Then, with the sequels, what had before been an interesting concept and pretty narrow story (in that it focused primarily on Neo) is expanded upon in a huge way. We’re introduced to Zion and a whole new cast of characters. We realize the true scope of what the Matrix is, why it is, where it came from, who designed it, and Neo’s true purpose. This is no longer a story of Neo becoming The One; it’s a story about humanity fighting for survival.

There are flaws in these movies, sure. Some fight scenes go on for far too long. The CGI during the “Burly Brawl” with Neo vs. the hundreds of Agent Smiths does not hold up too well. In Revolutions, we do spend a lot of time with largely unfamiliar characters — the Kid, Zee, Niobe — while the original trio of Neo, Trinity, and Morpheus gets much less screen time.

But it works.

Revolutions is not about Neo, Trinity, and Morpheus; it’s about humanity. And in that respect, Revolutions works on an incredible level. We see that the story of our trio is merely a smaller part of a much larger story.

Of course, I didn’t think about any of that while I was watching; I only stepped back to analyze with M once the end credits of Revolutions started rolling. And I think that’s one of the things I most love about this trilogy: When I’m watching these movies, the rest of the world falls away, and I become completely wrapped up in the world of the Matrix. These days, as an author, I analyze everything — movies, books, television shows. I dissect them as I watch, picking apart the storytelling elements and learning from them. It’s a rare book or movie that can make me stop analyzing and start enjoying.

For me, the Matrix trilogy is one of those. When I watch it, I’m not an author examining and learning, culling the good from the bad; I’m just someone being told a story.

And that’s a beautiful thing.

~*~

What about you? Do you hate/like/love the Matrix movies? Are you one of those who loves the original but hates the sequels? Please tell me in the comments! I’ll be over here, listening to the Revolutions score on repeat and rediscovering my favorite Neo/Trinity fanfiction. Only during my revision breaks, that is. OF COURSE.

And for anyone who might need a reminder, the Cabinet of Curiosities is a site run by myself and three other middle grade authors: Stefan Bachmann (The Peculiar), Katherine Catmull (Summer and Bird), and Emma Trevayne (the upcoming Gearwing). Once a week, one of us posts a dark middle grade short story inspired by that month’s theme.

We’ve had a lot of fun with it so far, and hope you do too! Head on over and check out my story, if you’d like — and then catch up with the other stories, if you haven’t already done so! After all, what better way to start off your day than with a healthy helping of the strange and creepy?