Confessions of a Book Reviewer

  • I don’t always remember to write a review after finishing the book. My memory isn’t what it used to be.
  • I copy the same template for all my reviews. My reviews would be a mess if I didn’t structure them.
  • I forget some details. Sometimes I’ve even looked up the protagonist’s first name.
  • I don’t take notes while I read. Maybe I should.
  • I love reviewing physical books. More often than not, they’re fiction. But hopefully one day, I’ll get around to reading more nonfiction.
  • I finish every book. I feel like it isn’t fair to the author or potential readers if I only read and review half the novel.
  • I use the same phrases in my reviews. There are only so many ways to say I recommend a book.
  • I don’t write in books. I can’t do it. At most, I’ll write on a sticky note to mark a specific passage or page.

Confessions Of A Blogger

4 years of being a blogger means I have a lot to confess. So here goes…

I’ve never reblogged a post.

I wanted to publish my own, original content way back when I first started. And I’ve stuck by that ever since. So I probably won’t reblog anything ever.

I used to follow everyone who followed me.

I stopped after the first few months. Now I rarely follow anyone. With blogging, I’m extreme when it comes to everything. There’s just no in between.

I wanted to quit from time to time. 

I have no intentions to stop posting right now. Besides, I’d give up a lot before I’d give up blogging.

Confessing is liberating.

Blogging · Personal Reflection

End Of The Year Review And Thank You

Happy New Year’s Eve. Happy New Year. I don’t know when you’re reading this. But have a happy day regardless!

Thank you all for another amazing year. I’m grateful for every single one of you.

This blog didn’t do so poorly if I do say so myself. I got to review an awesome book, share interesting infographics courtesy of Grammarly, and confess something that shouldn’t come as a surprise.

I even wrote articles for Student Life Network as well as SUM.

I truly admire the work you’ve done and continue to do. You inspire me.

May 2016 be more awesome than 2015, 2014, all the previous years combined. You deserve it!

There are plenty more words to be written and stories to be shared in the new year. So happy writing, reading, and blogging.

I hope you’re happy and healthy and whatever else you want to be.

Stay great.


Confessions Of A Writer (Part 2)

Confessing time!

  • I wish I was more active. It’s hard to write and read when running or swimming.
  • I think the writers of Criminal minds are geniuses. Do you know what I’d do to write like that? No, you don’t.
  • In my free time, I watch a bit of everything. It satisfies my thirst for knowledge. And helps expand my imagination.
  • My right hand looks nothing like my left. Scars, blisters, pen marks, you name it, my right hand has it.
  • One summer I read all four Twilight books in 22 days. I can’t read nearly that quickly now.

Want to read part one? Of course you do!

Creative Writing

On The Other Side

From his seat Robert watches the door, waiting for it to open. Ray, his older brother, is supposed to step through it any minute now. The door remains shut until ten minutes later when a young man finally enters the narrow room with his lips pursued in a straight line.

“How’ve you been?” Robert asks with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

Ray walks over and pulls the chair out. A transparent piece of glass separates the two brothers from making any physical contact. “I’ve been better. I’ve had easier days.”

“Well that’s a shame.”

He sits down without meeting the eyes of his younger brother.

A pause descends between them.

“You look terrible.” Ray remarks. “Did you go to hell and back?”

“Is that your way of asking how I’m doing? Because it’s kind of a crappy way to do so.”

Ray reels back in his chair, feeling as if someone just punched him in the face.

He chuckles, interlacing his fingers together under his chin. “Relax. I’m pulling your leg.”

“Or maybe living in hell hardens you.”

This,” Robert gestures around him, “is better than hell. And I only look like hell because they told me you were coming.”

Ray studies the monochromatic floors and walls before glancing up. “I didn’t think two in the afternoon was that early for you.”

“It’s not. I’m used to waking up early now anyway even if there isn’t much to do besides sleep and work out. But I couldn’t doze off knowing I was going to get a visit from my big brother.”

The only door in and out of here opens. Someone else enters the room. Ray doesn’t bother to turn around to see what they look like or why they are here. After all the latter is pretty obvious. Instead he gazes into Robert’s eyes for the first time since he arrived.

“Listen to me Rob.”

“I always do.”

“Don’t judge me after I tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

“I never have and I don’t plan on starting now.”

Taking a deep breath, Ray exhales. “Don’t try to talk me out of this, okay? I’ve made up my mind and when I have—”

“Nothing will change your mind,” Robert finishes. “Yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Now spit it out.”

“I’ve thought this through for a while now…I’m going to tell the authorities…I don’t want to live with any regrets.”

Robert taps his dirty nails on the surface of the table the same colour as the floors and walls.

“It’s the right thing to do.” Ray swallows down the lump in his throat. “I have to Rob. I can’t live like this any longer.”

“What do you mean you can’t live like this? You’re out there while I’m in here for Christ’s sake. I don’t see how you can be complaining about your living situation.”

Ray has never seen his brother’s face turn red. Even as a child, Robert’s face always seemed drained of any colour.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ray begins. “I know you have it worse. I have no right or reason to complain.”

“So why are you here?”

Ray glances at his brother, studying him.

“I’m going to confess.”

Robert grows silent, his brow furrowed. “I have one question and one question only. Why?”

“Because this guilt is killing me.”

“You’d be okay dying in here?”

“I don’t really have a choice.” Ray runs a hand through his dark hair, the same colour as Robert’s. His younger brother hasn’t cut his hair since he arrived six months ago so it’s slightly longer, nearly reaching his shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“I made a mistake. I’ll be damned if I die without trying to rectify it.”

He smirks. “Is someone getting soft?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert nods once. “You’re positive you want to switch places with me? It’ll be you looking like hell.”

“I welcome that prospect with open arms. It beats this hell I’ve created for myself.”

Another period of silence descends upon them. Ray breaks it.

“I guess I’ll finally know what sitting on the other side of this glass will feel like.”

The person who entered the room before, a woman in her early fifties, gets up to leave. Robert sees this out of the corner of his eye as he leans back in his seat. “If everything goes according to plan, I can say the same.”

Ray doesn’t remember the last time he smiled, but right now sitting across from his own flesh and blood, the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a grin.

Note: How this placed third in a competition is still beyond my wildest imagination.