Thursday.

Books Actually

@ No.9 Yong Siak St 

Tiong Bahru Estate 

On writers.

'Great House'

Nicole Krauss

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I love this extract where Krauss talks about the world of a writer. Taking an advanced poetry class this semester has been incredibly challenging, and different to what I had originally expected. While studying poetry spanning centuries has been wonderful, one cannot help but feel a degree of discomfort when exposed to something entirely novel, like this, and being told that it is poetry. 

I've learnt a couple of things though, about the process of creating poetry and the foundation of which it is built on. For aspiring poets and writers, the first thing to do is not to ask what qualifies as poetry but rather, what we can turn into poetry. It was difficult and tricky at first, of course, stepping out of my expectations of what poetry is supposed to be, and accepting that it merely is. It's funny, how at the beginning, I would ask questions like 'What does this line mean?' or 'What does the author want from this poem?' but along the way I've learnt that sometimes poetry doesn't have to be understood so much as it needs to be felt. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that exploring and being exposed to the myriad of rhythms & forms & types is only the initial step that builds the foundation for your own poetry. To be exposed is to learn, but to only look at different poetry forms with disdain is to put your creativity and artistic style in a box, and I'm learning to accept all kinds, I'm learning to enjoy. I don't want to put my idea of poetry in a confined space. I'd like to believe that poets are capable of the fierce invention Krauss speaks of, that we create, alter and amend, and like many spheres of art, poetry is freedom.  

Haiku for Autumn

A lonely bird sings

the gaunt tree sheds red and gold

on a bare pavement

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2012 is almost over. So here's a thought: If the earth is apparently coming to an end in less than two months, why are we wasting time writing terrible essays about things we don't care about, instead of travelling the world & going for all-you-can-eat-buffets? 

Alright, I know that's ridiculous. I'm just really keen on getting through the next three weeks. Godspeed, everyone. 

Dear Friend,

'So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.'

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It's hard to describe in words, how much this novel means to me. I have read coming-of-age books like The Catcher In The Rye or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn before, but up till when I was fifteen, I don't think I've ever felt like a book really understood me. That is, until The Perks of Being A Wallflower.

I remember reading it for the first time and just being incredibly astounded and moved by the sheer profundity of this story, this small collection of letters. It was as if all the weariness & frustration & things I could never quite actualize into words were present in that text and the spaces in between, all the adolescent awkwardness I've ever felt was reflected in the protagonist Charlie. It's amazing, to see your own experiences come alive on a page.

I don't think it's fair for people to sneer and say that The Perks of Being A Wallflower is just another book about teenagers and sex and drugs, because these things don't make it any less important, they make it more real. And it's not all about the sex and drugs, because all of us have had Patricks & Sams & Bills & Mary-Elizabeths in our lives, and all of us have felt the bit of magic found in the three-minute space of a song. Some might think that there is no point in sharing or writing or reading about these stories because everyone else has experienced it before but there is, because sometimes, we just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have.


We just need to know that these people exist.