Aren't you Heather Wells?

What do you call a chick lit with a hint of murder mystery? Make that a whole lot of murder mystery.Whatever it's called, the Heather Wells series written by Meg Cabot is definitely it. Funny and sassy with a bit of murder thrown in there what's not to love? Meg Cabot writes books that you can't help but love, and the Heather Wells mystery is another you can't not but read.

The first title: Size 12 is Not Fat. Speaks out to many women who, due to the increase in the portrayal of size 0 women in the media, feel fat and overweight due to their clothes size. The series begins with a humourous scene in a dressing room, trying on jeans. Now, for a woman, we are typically secluded to numbers that mean nothing to no one, this means that it is extremely to difficult to find well fitting jeans. (For me they are always too long - I'm short okay?). Heather - a previous teen pop sensation, now working New York College residence hall Fisher Hall - is outraged at the vanity sizing being used by the shop - which is revealed when Wells over hears a size two, who can't fit into size 0 because of the vanity sizing. The humourous way in which this is presented reflects the whole series, you feel as if Heather is almost a friend, an allie in this world obsessed with a woman's appearance. Not only does this book reinforce the idea that people are not determined by their weight, but also that yes there are always, probably, going to be people who put you down (Comically shown by the constant "You would look like Heather Wells if you were a bit skinnier") but, most importantly, this should not bother you, and you should be proud of how you look, even if you do want to diet but keep failing - it's okay.

Now back to the series and that hint of murder mystery I mentioned. To keep this book from just being a chick flick (is there a book word for that? There must be). The residence hall Wells is the assistant director of, has a nickname - Death Dorm. Why? Because of the murders that occur there. For example, in the first title, a girl is found at the bottom of the elevator shaft - dead. A protagonist wouldn't be a true protagonist without realizing something no one else did. In the first novel - it is obvious that girls don't elevator surf! (Which is named the cause of death) This means that Wells get's herself into a spot of bother in pretty much every book. Much to the delight of NYPD Detective Canavan, who constantly finds Heather is all spots of bother - no matter how many times he warns her!

Speaking over people warning Heather to keep away from murderers, I bring you to Cooper Cartwright. AKA the other half of my OTP (One True Pairing, if you didn't know what that meant what are you doing on the internet I mean come on). The brother of Jordan Cartwright, Heather's ex. Throughout the first two novels Heather's crush for Cooper is very apparent This also means that the audience develops a certain crush on him too.

Oh c'mon you can have a crush on a fictional character okay do not judge me.

Heather also comes along with a lot of personal 'baggage', did you catch the fact she has a crush on her ex's brother, but not only that she also lives with him? That's not all, Heather met Jordan in her teen pop star years (Hence the whole "aren't you Heather Wells? thing"), if you have been paying attention to this, you'll have realised Wells is no longer a pop sensation, why? Her Mother ran off with her manager - and all her cash. Her father also starts the series in jail for not paying taxes. Yeah.

Now if you're in for a book that's entertaining and makes you cry with laughter at some points then you get fine with this series.

Heather Wells Series by Meg Cabot can be found on amazon 

Titles in order

• Size 12 is Not Fat
• Size 14 is Not Fat Either 
• Big Boned
• Size Twelve and Ready to Rock
• The Bride Wore Size Twelve 

Did I also mention that each of the books are as good as the first?

This took way too long to write and I apologise.

Bye bye

Why flu is the worst thing ever, like ever.

Prepare yourselves for a post moaning about the illness that took me down like a bullet at the weekend.

That said illness? Flu. Or a really bad cold that came with a headache, a sore throat, a cough and tiredness.

So there I was, last week, in the middle of writing a cracking post about the Heather Wells series by Meg Cabot (to come soon) and it was Monday night so I thought, y'know I might leave this until the weekend to finish I'll have time then.

Ha, I was so wrong

I believe it started that Monday afternoon, when I placed myself next to a girl who was coughing every 30 seconds. It then turned out she had pneumonia. Oh. Apparently, according to Google, there are forms of bacteria that are contagious - not sure how far I'll trust this information but within 3 days I had a sniffle and I knew something bad was coming.

I think it was going to sixth form on Friday that did it. I pretty much spent that day feeling like death and begging for the day to end when I could go home and curl up in bed. Of course that was the day I was a given an essay and two lessons worth of biology notes as homework. Oh and I had given myself personal homework to finish my blog post over the weekend. If gods and such are real, one of them definitely had it in for me.

So there I am, Friday evening wrapped in my quilt watching Miranda, pretty sure that with a good nights sleep I will be feeling 100% (Maybe 95%) for Saturday. I didn't take into account the fact I had a blocked nose, this meant I spent half the night figuring out how to breathe. I do not take illness well.

I actually don't remember Saturday that much. I think I attempted to do my biology homework and I watched the Speak Now World Tour - according to my tweets anyway. But one thing I do remember from Saturday - getting angry at being ill, getting dressed in proper clothes at 5pm and stating that I would not let this illness take me down. The Sunday came and I felt 100x worse. My plan had failed. Until I had drunk about 5 hot lemons and then Sunday evening I felt as good as new, as if I hadn't felt like death in the hours previous. I ate some toast and I enjoyed it - it tasted like toast not some sort of bland crunchy food I'm being forced to eat. But by then it was about 8pm, and then I remembered the biology notes in for Monday.

So I did them, I rushed them, because I actually like biology and I don't want to ruin my track record of handing every notes in on time. But the stupid thing is? My teacher never asked for them Monday. I could have spent Sunday evening contemplating how the flu left as quick as it arrived. Or watched Doctor Who I mean my options were limitless.

Not really sure that there is a point to this post. Only that I'm still alive and I haven't abandoned this blog.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Talk to me here and here

“I love you. Remember. They cannot take it” - Lauren Oliver, Delirium

It took me a year but I finally did it. I finally finished reading the Delirium trilogy by Lauren Oliver. I'm going to be honest with you. I no longer know what to do with myself.

This will probably contain spoilers, so hold on to your hats.

Last year, around New Year, I downloaded the first book for my new kindle - Delirium written by Lauren Oliver. I'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, after I first saw Requiem, the last book in the trilogy, advertised in a magazine. I knew that this would be the first book I would download and read on my kindle. And there I was, New Years Eve 2012, probably, (hey the New Years Eve 2011 I was reading the Hunger Games trilogy don't judge me) reading my new favourite book. I think I read it in a matter of days. I quickly moved onto the short story Hana, then onto Pandemonium and finally the short story Annabel. I had quickly ran out of Delirium trilogy to read and it hadn't even been a week. I know. I'm a fast reader. I was itching for the final installment Requiem. Which finally just read, due to the fact it was exam season the date in came out and a lack of money and the fact I was told I may or may not get the books in physical book form for Christmas.

But why is this series so addictive? Firstly, the idea that love is a disease is extremely interesting. That original idea was the formation of wanting to read it. I have never read, or come across, any fiction which explores the idea that love is disease and it be eradicated with a cure. Secondly, the way it is written and the words used are just perfect and meaningful. So many quotations can be taken from the series that apply in that fictional world, and ours. This enables the book to stick with you, almost imprinting itself on your soul and in your mind. I have forever memorised the quotes “You can't be happy unless you're unhappy sometimes" and “He who leaps for the sky may fall, it's true. But he may also fly.” Another thing that makes the trilogy so amazing is each book is written differently. The first book is continuous, in time with Lena and her life, with a few flash backs and memories of course. The second book, still  from the viewpoint of Lena, but split between two different times of her life. I will admit, this is a little confusing at start, but it works so well - in my opinion the book would have dragged if told in time order like the first. The third, and final installment is presented via two narratives Hana's and Lena's, this gives the reader equal insight into what is happening in the Wilds and the society. This difference does risk disappointment with any of the books, but I feel the difference keeps the books fresh and original.

The protagonist Lena, well I couldn't help but connect with her good-two shoes nature in the first book, as someone who's terrified to hand in their homework late I obviously felt some serious connection. Although being afraid to fall in love in a society where falling in love is probably more serious than murder our circumstances are very very different. This connection allows the reader to fall in love with Alex, and mourn Alex with Lena in the second book. Reading Pandemonium for the second time, I actually began to love Julian also, instead of mentally screaming "No, not him, remember Alex, Lena, remember Alex!" like I did first time reading. Of course then Alex returns and feelings of confusion are felt and you don't know what's really happened until Requiem. 

The secondary characters within the trilogy are easy to love, or hate depending who they are (Fred, I'm looking at you). Raven, is probably the most profound character, in fact she may be my favourite. When did she become my favourite character though? When Blue died. Up until that point I think I just assumed Raven had been in The Wilds (outside of the delirium free society) all her life. And then I couldn't just feel like my heart had been ripped out near the end of Requiem (you're just going to have to read it).

Now here's time for  a fun fact: I've been writing this post for at least two weeks. Why? I love this series too much, anything that I write seems wrong. I think I may be a perfectionist. I can't even put into words how much I love this series and if you see this book anywhere pick it up, look and the blurb and the maybe, hopefully, you will read it. Or at least contemplate reading it. 

Until the next post

Goodbye

In my head burning Red...

I welcome all of you into the new year with a new book review - so don't say I don't give you anything. I actually wanted to review this before Christmas, but seeing as the paperback isn't out until tomorrow (that's January 2nd 2014) I thought I'd better wait. Of course, if you're living in the digital age then you can download it right now via amazon.

So, back to the book, which I haven't yet named, did you notice? Red by Alison Cherry, in case you were wondering, stood out to me for many reasons

• I am a huge Taylor Swift fan so the title Red sticks out to me anywhere
• My best friend is a red head 
• Not sure if she would have forgiven me for not taking the opportunity to read it. 
• "Blondes need not apply" I am blonde. Why should I not apply? Why am I being targeted? What can I not do? 
• The whole concept of book was very intriguing, I mean, a whole town full of red heads who hold all social status? The complete opposite of what happens in society today. Personally, I don't see why red heads are taunted for their hair colour. This novel turns that upside down - the brunettes and the blondes are victimised because of their genetics.  

"Felicity St. John has it all: loyal best friends, a hot guy, and artistic talent" Of course, as soon as you read that sentence you know she's going to have some deep, dark secret. Her secret? She isn't a natural red head at all, she's a blonde. Now for all of us living in the real world, where dying your hair is pretty common and accepted, we can't really see the dilemma. But in Scarletville (I know), the rare hair colour of red gives you all the power, and if your a 'fake' red head you are treated as if you killed a man. I may be exaggerating here but you get my point. The hair salon which dyes the hair of all those fakers out there? Yeah, top secret and hidden where no one would find it. Unless your Gabby Vaughn, of course. 

I had high hope for the character Gabby Vaughn. Flicking through the novel and spotting the name Gabby made me pretty excited, because the best friend who is a red head? Yeah her name is Gaby. Spelling may be different but it's still the same. As this is a novel dedicated to red heads, I automatically assumed Gabby Vaughn would be a red head. So, there I was turning the first few pages, anxiously waiting for my Gaby to fictionalized. Oh how my hopes were wrong. It turns out, Gabby Vaughn is a brunette, my dreams of throwing the book at Gaby and screaming 'you are in this book, a fictional red head of you is in here now read it!", were destroyed. So what? My brain said, it'll be okay, she's just brunette. Then I continued reading who will be a contestants for the Miss Scarlet Pageant, and it becomes obvious that Gabrielle Vaughn is not only a brunette, but is the antagonist of the story as she begins to black mail Felicity, who is terrified that her secret will be spilled, so obviously gives into all the demands made by Gabby Vaughn.

The initial idea of the book is fantastic, I had extremely high hopes for this novel. Maybe my hopes were a little too high as I found myself not as thrilled with the book as I thought I would be. I often found myself rolling my eyes at Felicity for believing her life would be over if anyone saw her roots, annoyed at her best friend Haylie for being so selfish and dramatic, and angered at Felicity's mother, Ginger St. John, for dying her daughters hair practically since birth - afraid that her own social status would be ruined if she didn't have a red haired child. I suppose that's how characters are supposed to be, when sheltered from the rest of society, believing hair colour is what you should be judged on, instead of personality and morals. 

Overall, Red is a good book. It's not the best book I've read in a while, but I did thoroughly enjoy reading each page. So, if you're up for a book which is light on the emotions and doesn't make you rethink your entire existence (unless you are one of these people that hates on red heads then you should start rethinking your life right now) then Red is a the book to go with.

Go buy Red, written by Alison Cherry!  

Until next time friends :) 

Thank you to Quercus for sending me Red! 

Speak to me here and here 

Jimmy Jump Shot

Bit of a random post. But just go with it.

Once, I wanted to be a basket ball coach and it was all Jimmy Jump Shot's fault.

Jimmy Jump Shot was a real person, I know I didn't dream him up because my PE teacher in year 11 mocked his American accent. But six year old me saw him and thought 'I want to be exactly like that.' I was clearly weirder than I am now. I can still remember the one lesson he taught, way back in 2003 or when ever.

I'll set the scene: The sky is grey and 30 children stand shivering on a cold, wet playground in PE clothes. Waiting for Jimmy Jump Shot to arrive. It was tense. Who was this man? This man we didn't have to call sir, in fact we could call him by his first name. It was a big deal.

Then he arrives, in PE gear, bouncing a ball like a professional. Let me tell you it was cool. Now of course he was probably 6 foot but to my short height he was about 10 foot. So here he is, the infamous Jimmy Jump Shot, the tallest person I've ever seen and he shoots at the basket ball net and it goes in. Now after have 3 years of female teachers who couldn't shoot whether their life depended on it, having someone actually be able to do this phenomenon was amazing. After waiting for us all to quiet down after this stranger had done the impossible, he shouts in a strong American accent "Hello kids, I'm Jimmy Jump Shot!!! Now my little six year old brain just went wow. I'm not sure if it was his basketball techniques or his accent that amazed me but still he inspired me enough to go home to my mother and proudly exclaim "I don't want to be a hair dresser anymore - I want to be a basketball coach!" I'm not quite sure how long this dream went on for but I'm not sure it lasted as I clearly remember wanting to be an archaeologist throughout most of my primary school life. But it still doesn't stop family members mentioning it every year.

Of course, I never played basket ball again until secondary school - year 9 PE to be precise. Looking back I spent most of my time getting hit in the face by the ball instead of actually catching it. Co-ordination isn't my strength apparently.

I never saw Jimmy Jump Shot again. Who are you Jimmy? Are you even American? Is your name even Jimmy?

So, whilst most girls my age wanted to be princesses or doctors, I, the girl who only succeeded in skipping with skipping rope races (1st every year at sports day since between the year 2005-2008), wanted to be a basket ball coach.

I'm not sure what you're supposed to take from this but I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Adiós a todos

I take Spanish I can do that

Catching Fire

Let's be honest I watched the film a week ago and I'm still not over how bloody brilliant it is. I typically like adaptations of books, and there are some people in our society who hate every adaptation out there because they missed out a certain character or a phrase. Yes they did miss out some parts of the book, but the film is just such a good adaptation it doesn't matter. 

Yeah, I did just say that. 

After I watched the Hunger Games way back in 2012 for my fifteenth birthday I was 99.9% sure Catching Fire would be terrible in comparison, because let's be honest it wasn't my favourite book in the series and how can they make it better than the first film? Oh I was so so so wrong. 

I personally think Jennifer Lawrence's acting made this film, without it I don't think it would have been as good. Bet all you out there who complained about her being cast are hiding under your rocks huh? Talking about complaining, why did y'all complain about Sam Claflin, I mean he is such an obvious Finnick, and I'm not just talking about his good looks either. 

Favourite scene? Most probably the elevator scene, I mean Katniss's face had me shaking with laughter. Mainly because I was trying to keep my laughter quiet as no one else in the cinema was laughing (question: Why?). The scene in district 11 also had me crying into my popcorn let me tell you. In fact any scene where they involved the signal of district 12 and the revolution had me in tears. Don't judge me okay I am an emotional person. 

Now this has been short and sweet, but I felt I should post something seeing as it December! You can just feel the Christmas. The only negative of this is that it's almost time for Matt Smith to regenerate (no still not ready). I probably should have made a huge blog post about doctor who last week seeing as it was the 50th anniversary, but I think I was so excited I couldn't find the words. I mean the show has been a huge part of my life since I was about 7 or 8 which is pretty much almost ten years. Yes, I am a whovian in case you hadn't realised. 

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Come speak to me on twitter or tumblr!

Stealing Books

Not that I've stolen any books, of course.

At least I don't think I have.

But Liesel Meminger sure has. 

And this is now the beginning of me having a discussion about The Book Thief written by Markus Zusak. You can stay if you like. I would like that very much. Or you can go out and steal purchase The Book Thief with actual money and read it for yourself. It's up to you.

Now, don't get me wrong, but I love Nazi Germany. In a non 'oh I wish life was like that now' no I just find it extremely interesting and fascinating that a group of human individuals can do such cruel and inhumane things. The fact I got an A* on the Nazi Germany history exam also has something to do with it. I obviously don't take inspiration from these people because that would be bad. I just find it extremely interesting and disturbing to learn.

Back to the subject: Markus Zusak and his Book Thief.

The book stood out to me because my history teacher kept mentioning it: So Miss Hulme I have read it - I'm just a year late.

The whole idea that a child is stealing a book in Nazi Germany of all places is quite eye opening and is obviously going to get you a little curious. It's also narrated by Death.

Yeah you read that right.

Death is now a narrator, and pretty good one at that. He spoils the ending, which is bad, but somehow makes the ending 10x more depressing and sad. I may have cried actual tears. Also, how many books have you read that have been narrated from deaths perspective? Not a lot I'm gathering.

The characters are also diverse and you find yourself hating, then loving the character in the next chapter (Rosa Hubermann I'm looking directly at you). Can I also mention Rudy Steiner and maybe the whole Steiner family in general? I have never felt more pity and sadness for a character and their family. Max Vandenburg - the kind kind Jew who fell victim to the Nazi's discrimination and evil ways.  I was extremely happy with this characters ending

Now, some of you may be sat there thinking 'y'know what I might just go watch the film and not read it' Now that's fine, of course it is. I don't choose your life decisions, but really are films ever as good as the novels? No. Do you get to turn the fresh crisp pages with a film? No. Do you get the feeling of achievement when you've finished reading a 600 page film? No. Mainly it's because films don't have pages but that's not the point okay.

Just please go read the book. Or at least attempt to. At least then you can say you tried.

Well, it's Friday night and I'm waiting for food. My fingers are also pretty cold from typing and my thumb hurts (long story, banged it on a table yesterday oops)

Adios.

I take Spanish. I am allowed to say that.