Madame Bovary

So far, I am enjoying Madam Bovary. It is easy for me to read from it because I have been able to find many similarities between the plotline and my life. Say, the beginning of the book. It is about a new kid in school, on how he feels and everyone laughing and mocking at him. He is shy and quiet, and all he does is work, and himself from the rest of the class. This kind of applies to me because I’ve been the new kid about two times, and it’s always the same, some kids making fun of you, and if not yourself, behaving like a castaway. Later on in the book, the author, first first person and then third, moves on telling the story about the shy new student. Turned out—and I didn’t expect it—that this kid was the main character, or the main character of the chapters I read. It is enjoyable to read how this same person changes as he grows and how everyone that he meets and everything that happens to him affect him.

About the style, it’s sort of complicated, but I enjoy the descriptions, similes and symbolism that the author uses, because it helps me visualize the characters and the setting a bit more. The plotline also reminds me of a book I read at the beginning of 8th grade, which was La Casa de Los Espíritus, by Isabel Allende. It also talked about the life of a family, in different generations, and how they got married, and their social lives. The setting though, is totally different (colonial Chile and France).

I really want to finish the book, because I feel like I really need to know the end, and all that will happen to the characters. I want to know why the book is called Madame Bovary, because so far they haven’t mentioned her as much as Mister Bovary. Also, I want to know, whether the author is in the story (first person) or not, because at the beginning he/she was. These are questions that I think about often as I go through the book.

Road Workin' (Part 5)

“So, what’s up?” Tracy asked, but she wasn’t really concerned of awkwardness. She scanned the dance floor, and spotted Trisha dancing crazy with some other guy. He was muscular and very good looking, and they were too close together. Maybe she should—do nothing. Trisha was always getting herself into trouble and it seemed like she would’ve ended up pregnant—had Tracy not been there to save her. But tonight, her intention was to relax. Trisha was not a baby, and maturity might stop her. If she was mature, that is.

“Nothing much.” Mark said casually. He drank a bit more, and Tracy noticed how he sighed heavily, as if he was about to tell her something big. “Actually, a lot.” he fixed his position and Tracy opened her eyes, wanting to show full attention and concentration. She was not the only one feeling pretty confident, tonight.

“My girlfriend Stephanie just dumped me. It was nothing nasty, she was all honest and calm. But still, I loved her.” Mark said closing his eyes and grieving in silence. “You did.” Tracy said nodding, perhaps too much. And, what did she knew? She knew she’d had whisky, and that was sort of it. But Mark was honest. He must’ve really had feelings for her. Suddenly, Tracy felt all jealous of this girl, Susana-whatever-her-name was. Without the need of another whisky, she realized that her job was to make Mark forget about someone else.

“But you know, perhaps if you don’t deserve her she didn’t deserve you.” Tracy said, fully tempted to place her hand on Mark’s knee. “Yeah, maybe.” Mark said, and Tracy could still notice that there was doubt in his voice. Convince. Convince.

“Maybe it was all for the better. You know, you’ll be able to meet more girls, and who knows, maybe you’ll like them more.” Them, me. For a sec, as she had done many times in her past, Tracy wondered whether she was pretty. Everytime she looked at herself in the mirror, she concluded that she wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t beautiful either. Her body was sort of chubby and not perfect, and her hair was just there and her eyes were plain. But she had a good feeling about Mark, whisky, and whatever Mark was drinking.

“Yeah. Just that, I’m not really social. I tried so hard to get to Steph. I really did, and it’s like I’m starting all over again.” he said quietly, drinking a bit more. Steph. Tracy didn’t know whether she hated the nickname, or if she hated the name—the person— as a whole. Next thing she knew she called the guy and asked for two whisky’s.

“Here, it’s on me. I know I am totally sounding like an alcoholic, but wherever you’re in sorrow, whisky is the best.” she said and gave him the cup. He smiled thanks, and drank some of it, and yet his reaction was still the name. Tracy had to calm herself before sighing out loud.

“You know, I’ve heard people here are very good at shots. Wanna try?” And yet she said herself to be clean and non-alcoholic. But tonight, it seemed, was an exception. She had a broken heart to get to, and whisky wasn’t that bad. She really hadn’t heard anybody say anything about people here, and she doubted whether a specific group of people was better than another, at shots.

“You’re on.” he smiled a bit and shook his cup in the air. And she was about to prove it.

Hug (Poem)

While some girls—most,
tell about the ways in which they’ve kissed,
and all the things they’ve done, and toast—
I don’t. And I’m not pissed,
he hugged me. He did.

I wasn’t expecting it,
and yet it wasn’t bad.
He’s cute—like a kid
he’s been meaning to do it, he said.

We were walking,
heading up the long way—talking,
and he said he had forgotten,
and he approached me,
and placed his arm around me,
and I smiled.

He’s happy, I see in his face,
his eyes are widen,
the grin, the look.
He’s glad he’s done it
I am, too.

Road Workin' (Part 4)

Tracy always wanted to become a dancer. That is, until she realized that the purpose of life was to earn money and live. Her grades and dedication suddenly grew when she made her mind about dancing, and she was done with it. She kept on liking it, though. But this time, there she was, and everyone was dancing, and suddenly she didn’t want to dance at all. Trisha had already join the rest of the people, and she was dancing deeply. Leo, Tracy knew he wasn’t really a party-someone, but he was not there. So Tracy had no choice but to seat at the bar.

She had never been much of a drinker, but she admitted, guilty, that she’d never say no to whisky. She ordered some, and expected for it to not be as good as it really was. She closed her eyes and did her best as to ignore the music around her, and enjoy the moment. It was called getting drunk.

The other people at the bar were each in their business, and there was someone sort of lonely, sitting at the other end. Sort of like her, Tracy thought. She was really shy, and she knew she would need more whisky, if she was planning approaching and talking to him. She couldn’t really see, whether he was cute or not, and she didn’t know whether he was alone, but she decided to try it. Another whisky. Never mind the money she had. Which was Beth’s actually. It’s not like it was being wasted.
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He had been there quite a few times, and yet it wasn’t as happy as it had seemed before. The music, it was cool and so was the drink, but something was missing…Stephanie. He thought he didn’t deserve that. He tried so much and he was the happiest guy in the world when she had finally agreed, and he had been the most loyal ever, and she simply said stop, and no. And there he was, alone, drinking like he had done many times before, but post-Stephanie.

It had been hard all along. Because he wasn’t the type of guy that girls loved. He never called much attention. It was not like girls followed him everywhere, or like anytime now, any girl would come and seat next to him, amazed by his…beauty? That only happened in movies, certainly.
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“Hey.” Tracy said a little bit loud, and sat next to the blonde boy. He was sort of cute, and though his nose was too big, and his hair too soft, everything else was okay. The bewildered look in his eyes made Tracy feel a bit scared and doubted whether this had been a good idea after all. But she had already done it, and she had had her whisky’s, and there was no point turning back.

“H—Hey.” he said, and he was a bit happy, Tracy noticed for her sake, that is, the part that was still sober. “I’m Tracy. From New Haven. And you are?” she asked as casually as she could, but with enough volume as to be heard.

“I’m Mark. I’ve lived here all my life, actually.” he grinned, and Tracy as well. He was better than…Leo, say, and crazy-Trisha and mean Beth. Much better, actually.

Road Workin' (Part 3)

Trisha hurried down, to the lobby as if being chased by something. She was sort of restless, but relieved when she saw Leo standing close to the wall. Surprisingly, Tracy was standing too, much her pose was rigid, and she was sort of scared.

“Hey. Are you coming too?” Trisha approached them and pictured Beth, so alone in the upstairs room. Whatever. I asked her, and she didn’t want to come, she thought and declared herself not as guilty. She had imagined that Beth and Tracy would stay and talk of boredom, but now that Tracy was here, she was sort of angry, and sad for Beth.

“I wasn’t as tired. Plus, it’s nice, to walk around and get to know the place.” She shrugged. Right. Trisha tried hard not to mock. She had never been close to Tracy, thinking of her to be incredibly innocent, with typical piggy tails and pink flowery dresses and leather shoes. It was pathetic, and it seemed like she was becoming just a bit more. Tourism.

“Yeah, cool.” Trisha hate hypocrisy, and yet there she was, her tone of voice incredibly mean. Leo removed his always-playing iPod, and opened the door, and gestured the ladies to head outside.

The climate was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t chilly, and not so hot. It seemed, though, the crowd had gotten denser, and people were walking everywhere, and for a second, Trisha doubted. When she had entered her room, the bed was okay, and there was a small T.V., and a desk and everything. And though the floor was cold and colourless, it was provocative. Perhaps it was wiser to go back inside, and hide or something. Because Tracy was coming along too. And Leo, he wouldn’t really care. But then Trisha reminded herself of who she was, and how she always wanted to do something, and her love for partying. This was not exactly Las Vegas or anything, but there were various songs playing in the background, and despite all the noise and commotion, Trisha tried to guess where the sound, the most appealing, was coming from, and she started walking.

The noise got louder, and then there was this sign, and it called their attention, and Trisha stopped and she was excited. Tons of people were coming inside, and yet the size of the thing wasn’t that big. It was a club, that was for sure. People just their age were partying inside and Trisha turned to face scared Tracy and bored Leo. “Come on!” she took out some money, as if gesturing Tracy and Leo to do the same. “Are we going in?!” Tracy shouted, and it was still difficult to hear her out; a new song had started, and it was much louder, and it seemed as if it was motivating people even more, to dancing, to shouting. “Yes!!” Trisha said, rolling her eyes and minding that she had to state the obvious. She grabbed Leo’s hand and led him towards the entrance, packed up with people. Tracy was catching before they went inside. She was sort of trembling, and Trisha could tell she was not so sure about all this. She might as well go back with Beth, she thought. But an anxious man insisted for her to pay, and then she was dragged inside, where there were lights and music, much more louder. She always got so excited and happy, about to dance, no matter place or companions.

Road Workin' (Part 2)

He didn’t know whether he wanted to stop. But he had said it, and he felt like his words were the reason they were here.

“Let’s look for a hotel or something.” Beth said as she grabbed her purse, and closed the car, and it sort of seemed like she was hoping or thinking everyone would follow. She wasn’t a dictator, or anything. And yet Leo followed, probably because he needed a bed. But not right now. There was time. He tried to think back, to the last time he’d been this independent, so far away from college and family and the city, and he was happy, and he felt the need for party. Gladly, that wasn’t gonna be much of a problem, he was reminded. Because jumpy Trisha was following too. Her excitement was rubbing off on him, it seemed, and on Tracy too, sort of, because she followed both of them, and looked around like some geeky-professional tourist.

Leo had met Beth not so long ago, just in college, because both of them knew Tracy. Because Leo was sure that there was some sort of far away-family relationship between the two, and Tracy just happened to be Beth’s roommate. Trisha was talking Industry and Design too, and Beth knew her, and then the four of them had decided to do this thing together. At the beginning, when he thought it was only he and Tracy, and he saw Beth and Trisha approaching delightfully, he was a bit mad, because of being the only boy. Then, he had convinced himself of it being fun and interesting.

“Hotel Buttercup. What do you say?” Beth stopped and they hadn’t been walking for long. The three followers looked up, and the sign was bright, but small, and not so bright. The corny name was made as to represent an elegant calligraphy, but it wasn’t more than a neon thing, that was about to fall. Beneath the sign, the entrance, it wasn’t big but it wasn’t full. There was a small carpet as to make it more welcoming, but the door was closed, and it wasn’t glass.

“Have the best time of your life. Ok, cool.” Tracy was the one who was always into details and more information. The one that made sure the model was never lacking glue or paint somewhere. The one—the only one—that read these kind of lousy mottos out loud. “You do notice that it’s spelled wrong?” Beth said, mocking rather than laughing. And yet she managed to scare her co-workers just a bit more, as to make them realize what they had gotten themselves into.

Inside the lobby, which looked similar to a janitor’s closet in organization, Beth approached the counter and started talking and asking. Leo stayed with the two others near the door, and it seemed for a second that Beth was their angry y mom, the one that was in charge. Because he was the male, that scared him a bit. Then again, he had always seen Beth as somewhat leader-like, like an independent women, not like any sort of tomboy dominant figure. And so he rested against the wall and closed his eyes for a second and sang a bit of old music.

“You know guys, I have a feeling that Beth hates us.” So Tracy was always focusing on detail, which certainly led her to mention things that didn’t need to be mentioned. Trisha followed, because she had nothing else to talk about. “I thought this project was going to be good. Because I know she works, but she works too hard.” She agreed.

“She’s just a bit stressed out because of the traffic and the staying-over thing.” Leo pointed out. Because who wouldn’t be stressed, right? Wait, he wasn’t. He had actually agreed and said that he wanted to stay. “Most probably. Well, we just go to bed and wake up and we keep going, right? I mean it doesn’t matter much.” Tracy proposed quietly. Tracy’s life was cute and small. She tried to be good, ignoring the fact that it sometimes it was boring to be one.

“Sure we are.” Trisha said it, and smiled, mischievously. Leo smiled back, and understood immediately about their sleepless future.

Beth approached them with a couple of keys dangling from her fingers. “We’ve got ourselves two rooms. I’m going to bed.” She gave this other key to Leo, as if it was up for him to decide who to sleep with. They gathered their bags and went up the stairs.

Literary Contests and Magazines

The following links I found them in class, of Literary Contests and Magazines.

Cezanne's Carrot
http://www.cezannescarrot.org/guidelines.html

The Apple Valley Review
http://www.applevalleyreview.com/