I didn’t mean to take such a long blogging hiatus. Life sort of happened. I had two separate hernia surgeries in a month, a week+ stint in jury duty, and work. Plus, I’ve been wondering what I want to do with this blog. I feel like my perspective has changed and I want to make sure that this blog contributes something.
One thing I do want to point to is this beautiful and amazing post by Courtney Summers about writing for girls. You should read it.
I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump. I’ve had a lot of ideas but I’d been feeling a bit of hopelessness about stories and where they can take us. I’ve read a lot of great books lately (Ask Again Later by Liz Czukas, UnSouled by Neal Shusterman, The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Gailbraith aka JK Rowling, Vicious by Victoria Schwab), but for me personally, I’ve just had a bit of a literary crisis of faith.
Last night, though, Matt and I went to see the movie Gravity. I’d heard amazing things and was told to splurge and see it in IMax 3D if possible, which we did. After an annoying drive, a lackluster dinner, and the movie starting late, I was prepared to be underwhelmed.
From the first shot to the last, I was very literally on the edge of my seat. Alfonso Cuarón took a simple idea—after a catastrophic accident, an astronaut is stuck in space—and turned it into the most tense, beautiful, and realistic movie I’ve seen in a long time. For most of the 90 minutes, there is only one character—played to perfection by Sandra Bullock, who continues to amaze me with her range—and nothing else. The story isn’t buried under superfluous backstory, the plot, while it does require some stretches, is plausible and uses no hand-waving magic to save the day.
Gravity reminded me that sometimes the best stories are the simple stories. It reminded me of how beautiful something can be when pared down to its core. No movie BS, no tacked on romance, no gratuitous sex. Just a story. Plain, simple, sweet.
Gravity restored my faith in the power of stories.