- It is true historical fiction, which I love.
- It shows the life of a young boy who is facing hardships in his life.
- It is full of humor and adventure.
- It demonstrates friendship between two unlike people.
- It shows a interesting adventure facing disease, natives, and huge hurricanes.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Like Bookends in Portland
By Lori Polydoros
Everybody’s got a story. Even Portland, if you can find your way inside. Only one way to travel through the city’s maze of one-way, criss-crossing streets that change names. Take The MAX across the Columbia. Take the time to slow down. Read. Listen.
So Helena, an Oregon transplant from Minnesota, rides into town to meet friends. She’s a mother of four who works in the securities industry. But at heart she's a writer. A woman with many stories to tell— stories of heartache and joy , apparent in her generous smile. Helena discusses the never-dull job of parenting. Her story rings true. We are all storytellers. But only a few are lucky--or crazy enough-- to write them down and send them along the winding path of publication.
Portland is full of hip cafes, ethnic food stands, and vintage clothing shops. If you’re lucky, you’ll see the moustache-clad transvestite in fishnets and pink boots. But a perfect destination looms ahead. Powell's bookstore. King of the independents. A writer and reader's Pleasure Island. The musty, intoxicating smell of old books wafts through the endless rooms, singing stories written by old friends like Mark Twain, Neil Gaiman, and Rick Steves.
Outside Powell's, dread-locked Rashib carries a sign: "VEGAN, HUNGRY, HOMELESS, AND HANDSOME." He munches rainbow veggie pizza and talks of the world. Rashib has traveled the globe with this very same sign—once written in Indonesian. He's an author, too, and has been writing like crazy lately. Look for his book soon in the stores--GLOBAL NOMADS, he says.
So many storytellers. Like bookends, Helena on the way in to Portland, and Rashib on the way out. All of us diverse with crazy different life experiences. Yet all eager to share our stories, to share our piece in this massive, interconnected maze of life.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I can't make make the waves calm by the shore,
I can't make the grass on the other side greener.
I can make a friendship with you ,
I can love you for what you are and who you are,
I can make you feel like all your troubles are gone.
I can't make clocks tick faster.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The book I read, "The Wringer," by Jerry Spinelli, was awesome! This relates to me because the main character was in a struggle about being a wringer or not. I think he is confused, and I feel the same way. If I were him, I would choose not be a wringer because it would be bad to crack some pigeons skulls. Unfortunately, he doesn't have a choice, he has to go. The rule is when you turn ten, you have to be a wringer.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Night reminds me of day.
Day reminds me of night.
I sit in the middle.
Watching both fighting over earth.
I am not matter.
Yet I do exist.
I am not darkness.
Yet I do exist.
I am not nothing.
Yet I do exist.
I am the one and only anti-matter.