a concise (and most probably inaccurate and incomplete) recollection of books that i read as a youth

I've been reading since I was young, and it's always been one of my favourite pastimes. While I have read many novels during my time, I'll admit that the vast majority of reading material I ingested when I was younger consisted of comics and all those whodunnit puzzle books, like . . . uh, I forget. I'm sure you know what I mean, though. Of course, I'll abstain from waxing lyrical about how much I loved the Dragon Ball (okay, Mutiara Naga) comics here and, instead, focus on, you know, actual books. Things like, say, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings as opposed to things like Tintin and the aforementioned Mutiara Naga.

One novel which I distinctly remember reading (and enjoying greatly) is The Crystal Drop by Monica Hughes. Seems like hardly anyone's ever heard of it, though, perhaps due to the fact that it's in the "juvenile fiction" category, and as we all know, no-one really reads juvenile fiction. Or admits to doing so. At least not when you're already in university and have "graduated" to more "mature" books. I do recall The Crystal Drop being a great book, well-written and with quite a moving story. It was the first book I ever really loved, it was the first book to actually make me cry (it's not a sad story, no, but it does have a certain amount of emotional content that would probably result in tears for certain emotionally fragile 10-13 year-olds, like yours truly) and it also appealed to my sense of (or desire for, even) adventure. And, of course, what's not to love about a story where a sister and her brother travel 70km across a wasteland formerly known as the Canadian prairies to find an uncle, face many challenges and, at the end, actually wind up loving each other (as brother and sister, of course)? Not much, especially when you're 11.

Another novel which was quite important to me when I was younger is J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. The Hobbit, for those of you not in the know (grr) is the predecessor of Tolkien's later—and much more famous—Lord of the Rings trilogy, and is where the lovable Gollum (amongst many other characters) makes his first appearance. I don't think I really have to explain much why the book was important to me: it was a fantasy book. It had magic. Lots of adventure. Lots of action. A merry band of heroic travellers. Dwarves. And a dragon, for crying out loud. It helped greatly that Mr. Tolkien was a brilliant writer, but, really, I was young, I was nerdy, I was quite socially inept and thus Tolkien's world of Middle Earth with its dwarves, hobbits, elves and gray-clad wizards drew me in very, very deep. Perhaps, just perhaps, The Hobbit was the one that Started It All.

I also have to mention Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain series, which was a fantasy series of five books, all of which I loved (and still love) dearly. Most of the things I loved about The Hobbit I could also find in Lloyd Alexander's series, although admittedly without all the Middle Earth-isms. But the adventure was there, the heroes were great and the stories were appealing. The main character of Taran—a young Assistant Pig-Keeper—was also much easier for me to relate to than the character of Bilbo from The Hobbit, not least because Taran was a human being like me, and a young one at that, along with Princess Eilonwy. The overarching theme of Taran's maturation from youth to adulthood was also particularly appealing to me during that period of my life, for reasons I guess I'm sure most people would understand.

Of course, I read many other books during those younger years (a couple of books by Cristopher Pike come to mind), but, really, those mentioned are the ones that stand out significantly. At least, amongst the ones that I actually finished back then. I used to have a horrible track record in regards to actually finishing the books that I read. I'm sure I've forgotten a few books, but then I guess if I've forgotten them then they're not that important, are they?

I can't help but feel like my memory's failing me, though. Hm hm.

The new semester

Yeah. Another new semester. More of me doing nothing, except now my days will be punctuated by classes and coursework and assignments and more of actual, y'know, getting out of the house. That sort of stuff. I'm only taking one subject this semester (Creative Writing 1. And, yes, I am a lazy bum) and thus I don't think I'll be too occupied by university-related work and stuff so I'm sure I'll still have lots of time for the other (important) things: writing, photography, music, sleep, porn, that sort of stuff.

It's a short semester this time. 7 weeks. Although having two classes a week for every subject basically makes it still 14 classes in a semester. Just more packed. My previous short semester experience wasn't great (2.8-something GPA oh yeah) so, yeah, I am perhaps a bit apprehensive. If only for the fact that I usually take four weeks just to get going and now, whoa, I'll be getting an assignment on Thursday and will have to pass it up by, yeah . . .

Week four. Whee.

To be honest it was a good enough first day. Spent the whole day after our brief, introductory first class hanging out with friends, as expected, many laughs ensued. What else? I don't think I've ever really had a bad experience hanging out with my friends at uni, oddly enough. I then had dinner at Williams here in Kelana Jaya with some other friends. Quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Even better that one of my friends paid for everything and I didn't even have to get my wallet out. Which was just as well, since when I got home I realized I had all of, what, 15 bucks inside there?

I did, to some extent, miss my friends during the holidays. Ok, maybe not exactly them but more the whole hanging out and talking and laughing and having fun. Or . . . wait, ok, yeah. I did miss them.

In all honesty it seems like it's going to be an alright enough semester. Creative Writing 1 seems interesting (and, honestly, seems like something I should be able to handle easily enough), hanging out with friends is just as fun (as if that would change) and, well, I just have this feeling that it'll be good. Or at least not crappy. Enjoyable, even, perhaps, to an extent. You never know, eh. I just have to avoid spiralling into my typical mid-to-late-semester depression and I should be fine.

(Of course, now that I've mentioned it, I invariably will.)