Review: The Eye of Minds

Hey guys!! First off, sorry for the span with no posts! I had them on an auto-publish that apparently didn't happen. However, I can get to the blog on my phone, so maybe I'll get back to normal posts. ^-^;

I'm not totally sure what I thought of The Eye of Minds, by James Dashner. It was good, but it was almost like there was something missing. Something about the end wasn't... right, for lack of a better word. I mentioned that to Kathryn once I finished it, and she said that Dashner seems to have a slight problem with endings, which I agree with.
But I'm not totally sure that's it.

I went into this book with high hopes, since it reminded me of an anime I've seen and loved called Sword Art Online. Here's the blurb on the inside of the cover:

Michael is a gamer.
And like most gamers, he almost spends more time on the VirtNet than in the actual world. The VirtNet offers total mind and body immersion, and it's addictive. Thanks to technology, anyone with enough money can experience fantasy worlds, risk their life without the chance of death, or just hang around with Virt-friends. And the more hacking skills you have, the more fun. Why bother following the rules when most of them are dumb, anyway?
But some rules were made for a reason. Some technology is too dangerous to fool with. And recent reports claim that one gamer is going beyond what any gamer has done before: he's holding players hostage inside the VirtNet. The effects are horrific--the hostages have all been declared brain-dead. Yet the gamer's motives are a mystery.
The government knows that to catch a hacker, you need a hacker.
And they've been watching Michael. They want him on their team. But the risk is enormous. If he accepts their challenge, Michael will need to go off the VirtNet grid. There are back alleys and corners in the system human eyes have never seen and predators he can't even fathom--and there's the possibility that the line between game and reality will be blurred forever.

Random comment, but I'm impressed they were able to fit all of that on the inside cover of a book.

As I said, I was expecting it to be like SAO. It was, to a degree, but it was also different. It felt kind of pale and washed out, like it was missing a few key ingredients necessary in a book. The characters felt like they hadn't been fully developed and just had the very basics of a personality. They were somewhat cookie-cutter-esque as well, what with the (way too) thoughtful protag, the "oh come on you idjits" girl(who will probably end up to be a love interest), and the joker sidekick.
There was also a plot twist at the end which, if handled right, could have been amazing. But it didn't feel like it had any impact.
Actually, I think that's why I fell the book wasn't as good as it could have been. It didn't have any impact.
The Maze Runner books had the impact of survival and the like; this one just kind of coasted along as though it was thinking "this is an interesting plot I doubt I need much of anything else."

And truthfully, I'm a little at war with myself, right now. Because I don't want to totally bash this book, since it was kind of good, but it also could have been so much better.

And now to the ratings.
Plotline was a 7. Was a good idea, but it could have been executed so much better.
Characters were a 6. There was nothing really wrong with them, but they felt flat, like I'd said.
Family friendliness was probably around a 7. Two characters "die" in it, and the plot would go over the heads of younger readers.

What about you guys? Have you read a book you thought could have been so much better?
--Rebecca

BB/HG Crossover: Chapter Five

Fedora

I stayed with the Pembroke brothers far longer than I should have. I thought about sending them away like I’d done to Carmen, or just sneaking off in the middle of the night sometime, but in the end, I always found reasons not to do it: I needed them, they needed me, surviving together was our best option at least until there were fewer tributes... The excuses went on forever.

But really, the excuses didn’t matter. All that did was that, days later, I was still with the Pembroke brothers despite my better judgment.

It was during one of those days that I stumbled upon their best-kept secret--me and by default, I supposed, the entirety of Panem.

Vil had gone off to try and hunt something up for our dinner, and Cecil and I continued through the woods at a much slower and (in Cecil’s case) louder pace, following the marks Vil had notched into the trees with a knife we’d stolen from one of the dead tributes. We were climbing up a steep hill, huffing and puffing, but pretending we were fine, when Cecil’s clumsy toes snagged on a rock, and down he tumbled down the hill.

I ran after him, suppressing snickers, as he didn’t seem too terribly injured. “Hey, Cec,” I called. “You okay?”

He answered with a grunt and a moan but it wasn’t anything that made me worry about his wellbeing. Probably would’ve made Vil worry, but I wasn’t about to pamper the little wimp; he’d clearly received way too much of that over the years.

Still, I jogged a little ways back down the hill and, as I reached him, noticed something laying on the ground a short distance away. Frowning, I edged closer, and upon closer inspection, I realized it was a human hand. Cecil’s.

I immediately felt sick.

Oh heavens. What would I tell Vil?

“Cecil,” I called, panic seeping into my voice as I knelt beside him, “Cecil, let me see it; I’m a healer.”

“See what?” he asked, sounding far more irritable and far less pained for someone suddenly missing a hand, but maybe he was in some kind of shock and just hadn’t realized it yet.

“Your hand,” I said, swallowing, forcing myself to stay calm for him--

He immediately paled. “How do you know about that?”

“Know about...” Even as I trailed off, my eyes slid to the appendage laying on the grass a little ways away from us.

“Oh no!” Cecil groaned. “Vil’s going to be so upset.” He scrambled over, picked up the hand with some amount of revulsion, and then proceeded to reattach it to his wrist.

It was only then that I realized the hand was fake, and not only that, it wasn’t his wrist Cecil was reattaching it to; it was the end of an appendage something like a hand, but smaller than normal  and somewhat disfigured.

“You, uh, you wear a prosthetic?” Because at the moment, stating the obvious was about all I could manage.

He nodded jerkily, watching me with wary gray eyes. “My hand’s been... messed up since I was a kid.”

“How’d you get a prosthetic in Textiles?”

His eyes darted around as if he’d be able to spot the hidden cameras the Capitol and the Districts watched us by. “Just did,” he muttered, and I suddenly realized what a dangerous question that might’ve been.

Still, I was fascinated with the idea of a prosthetic. I’d heard of them of course but they were almost... science fiction. The only people with the money to make such things lived in the Capitol; the only ones who actually needed them lived in the Districts.

I’m sure you’re beginning to see the problem.

“So,” I said as we got up and started to walk back in the direction Vil was heading. “How does it, you know, work?”

Cecil gave me a weird look, but then his eyes fell to the ground and he shrugged. “I don’t... really know.”

“You wear a prosthetic hand,” I stated, raising an eyebrow, “but you don’t even know how it works?”

“I never needed to know, I guess,” he replied.”Why? Do you know how everything you use works?”

Knowing Cecil, I’d think this would be an honest question (sass wasn’t really his speciality, unless he was half-unconscious) but there was an undertone to his words that made me wonder if he was a little annoyed with my questioning.

So I replied, “I’d learn about anything that directly attaches to my body.”

“Well, lucky you, you don’t have to worry about it.”

I was so in shock, that I actually stopped for a second and stared after him, then hurried up to make sure he wasn’t about to pass out on me since exhaustion seemed to be the only thing that could make him sarcastic. By the time I was sure he was fully awake, though, we’d caught up with Vil, who’d stayed stationary after catching our dinner. Which, unfortunately, canceled out my opportunity to make another sarcastic reply, unless I wanted to seriously irritate the only allies I had.

Cecil stayed annoyed with me for several hours afterwards. Eventually, Vil caught on and asked his younger brother what was wrong while I was gathering herbs that would be useful against infection. I knew, because as soon as I came back, Vil pulled me aside.

“Cec doesn’t like talking about his hand much,” he said in a low voice.

“No duh,” I replied, matching his tone.

“But to answer the question you asked, there’s a fitted glove inside the prosthetic that can read the electrical signals sent to the nerves in his hand and sends them on to the prosthetic, allowing it to move as he wants it to. Basically. I’m still not totally sure how it works, but that’s what I’ve been able to gather.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That, from just observing? I’d say either you’re brilliant, or have way too much time on your hands.”

Vil just grinned at me.

BB/HG Crossover: Chapter Four

Vil

After the giant housecat episode (seriously, Gamemakers?), I didn’t really know what to expect from the Games. I mean, I’d watched them all my life, but it seemed like this time--along with the fact that they’d thrown double the amount of us in here to die--the Gamemakers were also trying to take the rest of the Game up to an all-new level of insanity as well. Fedora and I alternated watch constantly, as Cecil seemed to be in a more or less perpetual state of freezing. Fortunately, there weren’t too many more human attackers to fend off, but we received more than one of the not-human variety in the form of bears, dogs, and possibly-rabid squirrels.

Luckily, none of them bit us.

We kept moving most of the time, because we’d learned from former Games that if we stayed in one place too long, either other tributes would catch us with our pants down and we’d be dead before we could defend ourselves, or the Gamemakers would take it upon themselves to shake us out of our false sense of comfort and security.

Not that any of our party was dumb enough to get complacent in the Games: Fedora and I knew exactly what was at stake, and Cec was already scared of everything, the Game itself most of all--which was probably wise.

I wasn’t sure what to think of Fedora at first, besides the fact that she was a great fighter and a convenient person to have on the team. But as we all spent more time together, I began to think of her as an almost-friend, and I wondered what we’d do if we actually reached the end of the Games.

Obviously, I wouldn’t choose her or myself over Cecil, but could I expect her to be willing to make the same sacrifice I was?

Of course not. I’d taken care of Cecil for as far back as I could remember, ever since our parents were killed by Peacekeepers in a random raid. She’d only known him for a few days, and I could already tell that she thought of him as only slightly more than an completely useless wimp.

Which wasn’t entirely false, but there was far more to my brother than fear and even if she saw that, I didn’t think she’d be willing to die for him.

If those thoughts bothered Fedora, though, she never showed it, and I didn’t want to ask her for fear that we’d prematurely lose whatever alliance we did have.

And that wasn’t something I wasn’t ready to see disappear.

BB/HG Crossover Chapter Three

Yup. This might have taken over my monday character love spot for now. Not that I mind. x) Enjoy!!

--Rebecca

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Cecil

I wasn’t really sure what to make of the girl who joined us. Vil seemed to have accepted Fedora’s company, but I was still kinda back at the part where she tried to murder me. I trusted Vil, though, so I tried to follow his lead on this. Still, every time I found her eyes looking towards me, mine quickly darted away.

“You know, you’ve been even more jumpy than usual,” my brother commented the next morning while Fedora was gone getting water. “Something wrong?”

I shrugged, scuffing at the ground with my shoe. “How... how much do you trust that girl?”

“Fedora?” He shrugged. “Enough. She won’t kill us in our sleep right now. Why?” He nudged my shoulder. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

My mouth twitched upward, but then I shook my head. “It’s not that, Vil.”

“Then what?”

I shook my head again and stared at the ground. It was that allies weren’t a good idea--not now. Even if we could trust her, this was the Games. Eventually, two of us would have to die so that the other one would live.

I was already facing that predicament with my brother, and I really didn’t like the idea of throwing in some random girl.

“Cec,” Vil began, but he didn’t get to finish because just then Fedora returned with her bottle of water--only she wasn’t walking as she’d been before. She was running top-speed, though somehow still managing to not make a sound.

“Are you okay?” Vil asked, as she paused, hands on her knees, to actually breathe for a second. “What in the--”

“Why are you two still standing there? Run, idiots!”

“From what?”

She straightened up, and even though I got the feeling she could still barely breathe properly, rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, I can see you boys are new to this, but seriously, when you see someone come crashing out of the woods with an expression of terror on their faces, it’s not really the time to ask questions. You simply grab your things and continue running in whatever direction they are.”

A loud rumbling noise punctuated the end of her sentence. “What’s that?” I asked, the freeze already starting in my feet.

“That,” Fedora said, as she sprinted off again, “is what I was running from.”

I peered back into the trees, but still couldn’t see it--whatever it was. However, it was loud enough that Vil and I both decided actually seeing the threat was not necessary to understanding that it was, in fact, a threat, and as I shook off my freeze, the two of us took off, crashing through the woods behind Fedora.

Unfortunately, I’d always been the slower of us two and as I began to fall back, I could hear the rumbling noise getting louder, almost like the engine of a car, and I started to feel vibrations beneath my feet as if something very, very large was charging through the woods towards us.

As the noises drew nearer, I made the mistake of looking behind me.

It was officially the ugliest thing I’d ever seen: an absolutely massive Persian cat, half the size of your average building, staring down at me as it’s smashed-in face homed in on mine. It’s eyes glinted green and it opened its mouth, revealing rows of teeth as long as Vil’s club and as sharp as any of the Capitol-provided knives.

It leaned closer. I ground to a halt. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t--

“Come on, Cec!” Suddenly, my brother was grabbing me by the back of my shirt and dragging me through the woods along behind him as the giant cat continued to chase us.

Even after I got my legs to work again, I stumbled over everything--my own two feet included--because I couldn’t take my eyes off the thing. As much as it terrified me, as much as the thought of those teeth piercing my body made me want to freeze again, it was also sort of... insane. Insane, and ridiculous. What kind of crazy people did our Gamemakers have to be to send giant housecats after people?

It made a sound that might’ve been a meow, but sounded more like a roar thanks to its increased size.

“Cecil, stop looking at it!” Vil screamed as we continued to run.

Up ahead of us, Fedora had stopped and was staring back at our pursuer. “What are you doing?” Vil asked, slowing only slightly to face her.

“We’re running from a giant cat.”

“No kidding. Let’s keep running, shall we?”

“It’s a giant freaking housecat,” Fedora stated again as she took off again. “We could take it.”

Vil gave her a sideways glance. “If you’d like to try it be my guest.”

“Come on, I thought we were a team.” She somehow managed to smirk while sprinting. “And we can’t run forever.”

Vil took a glance at me, rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. Let’s see about holding off big Muffin.”

A few minutes later, I was watching from the safety of the trees as my brother and Fedora somehow managed to tag-team the enormous beast and literally bring it down to their size.

“Pity,” Vil said, staring down at the body. “It could’ve been a cute pet or something.”

Fedora snorted. “If only it were a lot smaller.”

Monday has been replaced with Fanfiction

Hello all!!

My apologies for the huge break without any posts. I have no excuses. Or explanations. Or what-have-you.

But I'm back now!! Back, and participating in Kate's writing prompt, along with my cowriter, Alexa!! We decided to take the characters from our book, Becoming Brave, and put them in the world of Hunger Games. Because why not?

It's going to have several parts, and the next will be on Alexa's blog. Thank you for looking here, and I hope you enjoy the story that we have dubbed "Becoming Hungry!"

~Rebecca

<div align="center"><a href="http://majesticgoldenrose.weebly.com/" title="MajesticGoldenRose" target="_blank"><img src="https://gallery.mailchimp.com/64474d8bc6c6c0569ce7ce924/images/ec835a42-d3b0-4b6c-9275-c8b5bdd3b7e5.jpg" alt="MajesticGoldenRose" style="border:none;" /></a></div> - See more at: http://majesticgoldenrose.weebly.com/blog/7-ways-to-make-your-book-7-times-better-w-twnp-prompt#sthash.pxpAE7ry.dpuf

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Vil

It’s hard to protect the only one who matters to you when the entire world seems dead set against it.

It was the morning of the Reaping. I hadn’t slept at all the night before, and Cec had only dozed off around three in the morning.

I tried to convince myself that it was impossible; my worries were completely unfounded. If anyone was going to get Reaped, it would be me, considering how many times I’d put my name in the bowl. But the problem with that was, who would protect Cecil if I wasn’t there?

Probably nobody.

Well then, I guess neither of you should get picked.

Thanks, brain. Wonder why I didn’t think of that.

I went ahead and got up with the sun, since we had to be in the square in a couple of hours and there really was no point in pretending to sleep any longer. As I started breakfast with the leftovers from last night, I was glad I’d gone hunting the day before; Cecil had woken up while I was gone a few other times, and I had a feeling that if I wasn’t here when he woke up today, his freezing fits would be even worse than normal.

Which was saying something.

He woke up while the venison was still sizzling and shuffled into the kitchen only to collapse at the table. I smiled over at him, but was too exhausted--physically and mentally--to tease him like I normally did. It was nice to see, though, that, whatever else was going on, some things just didn’t change. My brother being the worst of bad morning people for instance.

“Cecil,” I called his name with a hint of annoying singsong.

“Mmf.”

“Cec, come on,” a laugh entered my voice as I went over with the pan and poked his temple with my finger. “You have to eat breakfast.”

He turned his head away from me. “Don’t have to.”

“Cec,” I let the chuckle out because what the heck? Might as well enjoy the beginning of the day. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going.”

“Please stop talking, Vil.”

“Fine.” I shrugged, setting the pan down on the table. “Starve, if you like. I’m going to get dressed.”

“You have fun with that.”

I snorted as I left to shower. The only time my brother could muster up sarcasm: when he was still half-asleep.

By the time I’d gotten dressed, though, he’d woken up and sobered up. I knew because he was staring straight ahead, fingers clenched around his fork, the only movement a slight trembling in his shoulders. I sighed. So he’d thought of the Games and frozen, just like that.

God, my brother could not get picked. He’d quite literally die out there.

“Cec.” I touched his shoulder, and he jumped out of his lock-up.

“Vil.” His heart thumped against mine as I hugged him. “Vil, what if I get--”

“Hush. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

What both of us knew and neither of us mentioned? The fact that I wouldn’t.

At the Reaping, we mostly kept to ourselves. I nodded at the people I knew, but no one seemed interested in even normal human small talk. What was happening today was way too big for that.

After our fingers were pricked and we’d checked in, Cecil went to the fifteen-year-old’s section, and I went to the seventeen’s to wait for the names to be drawn. It wasn’t long before the Capitol’s representative walked out onto the platform set up in the square.

The representative looked somewhat old for a Capitol person. It went beyond the wrinkles that he had attempted to smooth out. There was a fractured light in his eyes, like, from his padded chair somewhere in the Capitol, he’d managed to see almost as much as every kid standing around me.

“Welcome, to the fiftieth Hunger Games,” he said, then launched through the same spiel we got every year: the war, why we needed the Games, all that crap no one cared to hear. I tuned him out, keeping my eyes on Cecil to make sure he was okay; it wasn’t until the representative, Mr. Colbur, mentioned the Quarter Quell again that my mind was shocked back into the present.

“This Quarter Quell,” he continued wearily, “the President has decreed that twice as many tributes be chosen from each district. Two boys and two girls.” He paused, his lips, pursing together, like there was something he wanted to say but he knew better than to release the words. When he finally opened his mouth, only the standard words came out: “We’ll begin with the ladies.”

Two minutes later, Shana McPhail and Carla Don were more or less sentenced to death. Pity. They’d always seemed like nice g--

“And now for the boys.”

All thoughts of Shana and Carla vanished, even though the fifteen-year-old girls were weeping loudly not twenty feet away from me. I watched as Mr. Colbur patted each girl on the shoulder, then took one, two, three, four slow steps over to the boys’ jar. In the seconds before he dropped his hand in, it was like all the scraps inside the bowl went into super sharp focus, and I could’ve sworn that every one had my name on it.

Viliam Pembroke

Viliam Pembroke

Viliam Pembroke.

It took me a moment to realize that he was speaking those words out loud.

Suddenly, there was a wide space around me; everyone stepped away as if being reaped was a childhood illness that could spread like mumps in kindergarten. Not that I blamed them, I wanted to step away from me.

But that wasn’t really an option.

So I took a step forward, straightened my shoulders, sucked down my feelings, and summoned my dignity to cover them. By the time, I’d taken the third step, it was easier. I could fake it; I could detach, I could pretend that none of this mattered.

By the time I made it to the stage, it was like a part of me wasn’t even there.

Then I met Cecil’s eyes in the crowd and that part snapped back into place.

Oh god.

What would Cec do? He couldn’t take care of himself? How would he survive without me?

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I’d tried to teach him how, but Cec just wasn’t the type to learn.

There was only one option then: I’d have to win the Games and make it back to him.

“And our second male contestant... Cecil Pembroke.”

I think I died right then and there.

One camp done, another to come!

Hello dearest people, Kathryn here!

Wow, I really dropped the ball on posting, didn't I? I had a good blogging chat with the wonderful Alexa, and I hope to put her advice to work. Saturdays will have posts (Especially now that I've realized I can type them up on my phone!)!

On Friday Rebecca and I got back from a week long camp- a missions camp, meaning that instead of playing in the heat of the day, we served others! I was on a different team than my three amigos, which made time with them on campus even better. I'm already missing being with them all the time and missing being in charge of getting where I need to be when I need to.... but I am loving being home.

But that was my last StudentLife camp! I was bummed to realize that, but before camp ended someone said that our mission to share God with others doesn't end when camp does- we are on mission for our entire life. That really touched me, in a facepalm kind of way, and I'm pumped to see how God will have me serve others.

There is another camp coming up that I'm also really excited about- Camp NaNoWriMo!! For those who don't know, NaNoWriMo takes place in November, the national writing month; thus NaNoWriMo, where you write your fingers off for a month to meet your word goal. A couple years ago the folks in charge decided to host NaNoWriMos during the year, and so the camps were born. I was unable to take part in the April one, but I'm totally doing the one coming up in July. Novel baby, I will get you edited yet!

How about you? Got any camps you've come back from this summer,  or ones coming up?

It's been a pleasure,
Kathryn

Character love: Oz from Pandora Hearts

Okay, so I know I've been posting a lot of anime and feel a tiny bit bad about that. But anime is what I breeze through, and I finish a show at least once a month, if it's a short one, so I've pretty much got a plethora of ones to review or pick a character from.

Plus, animes are just good, okay?

Anyhoo, today's character love post is of Oz Bezarius from Pandora Hearts.

I mean, look at this little child-sized bundle of fluff and sunshine and happiness!! Isn't he adorable??

 Oz is a character that resonates a bunch with me. He's... oddly resigned to his fate, but still acts so cheery and like nothing is wrong, when in reality, he's got a cruddy father. He wants to help his friends, and he believes in them with his whole heart and is more than willing to put his life on the line for them.

He isn't reckless, which is a slight surprise, since I seem to tend to like the slightly more flamboyant and reckless characters. He does make stupid decision on occasion, though.

He's raised in a duke household, so he's got a bit of a commanding streak in him. He doesn't often issue commands to the other characters, but when he does, you can tell he's not quite used to being disobeyed.

He's oddly chill about everything that happens. Which is very surprising, since I'd be quietly freaking the freak out. And then squeeing like mad because of something that ends up happening in the plot. (Lets just say that any Doctor Who fan would really enjoy Pandora Hearts. Also fans of anything Alice in Wonderland related.) He's very chill, and very philosophical. It's honestly a refreshing change to have "I'LL HELP YOU ALICE" instead of "I'LL SAVE THE WORLD."

I've listed one flaw (the commanding thing) and have another I want to mention. The philosophical-ness.

So many times, it would be completely normal for Oz to just start crying, or yelling, or just being completely and utterly lost and... shattered, for lack of a better word. Instead, he shoves that aside, bottling it up. Which doesn't do good things to a person. (Gee, guess how I know? I betcha none of you will get it. )

Off the top of my head, I don't remember him ever breaking down, unlike the other character that's a lot like him that I've mentioned. (In the Blast of Tempest review.) However, I am rewatching it and it's been a while, so that is subject to change. I'm hoping it will, because Heartless-Writer-Me likes watching characters fall apart. It reveals so much about their character, doesn't it??

He also has a slight dark side that hardly ever comes out. But when it does, you take a step back and go "woah this kids intense. Dang." It's wonderful.

Anyhow, Oz is just a beautiful character, inside and out. I mean, look at that adorable blond hair and cheery grin and lovely green eyes. Precious baby. <3

Are there any characters you love that stick out from the typical mold of 'I'll save the world?' Any animes (or books) you'd like me to look into and possibly review? What's your favorite character from something animated?

I shall see you all on Thursday!!
--Rebecca