Brittany Maresh

writer

Based on a day of watching bad horror movies and reading “real life experiences” from a variety of paranormal magazines and books (research, I swear).  Don’t take this list too seriously, because “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” is my idea of research

1. Before you buy a house, do some research!  Find out what it was before it was a home. Make sure it’s not built on old Native American burial grounds or a moved cemetery, an old prison, or the site of a particularly horrible catastrophe, like a fire that killed 15 people, or that girls don’t mysteriously disappear from the home.  Find out how often the house has changed hands. If it seems to be plagued by bad luck, and people abandon it or leave it all the time, I’d be wary. It might just be that the neighbors are bad, but maybe it’s not the neighbors you need to worry about. Maybe it’s the former occupant who didn’t quite leave.
2. Make sure the house passes the “small child” test.  Get a kid, say, ages 3-8, and ask them to find all the “scary” parts of the house.  See if they notice any people that aren’t there, or identify rooms they won’t go in to.  Or you can do the mini version, the pet test – like the “small child” test, except done with a cat or dog. Are they chasing invisible things, barking at nothing?  Did your goldfish go belly-up overnight?
3. Talk to the neighbors – and I mean all of them, even the creepy house to your right.  Have they noticed anything funny about the place?  Do they think there was ever a witch there? Have they had any strange incidents in the area? Are they living in a haunted home, themselves? Where is the local haunted house?   Are you living over an abandoned silver mine? Don’t leave out the local children – with parental supervision and permission – to find out if they think the house is haunted. Do they avoid it on Halloween?  It might just be for a reason. Also remember to check up with the area paranormal agencies, to see if the place has any reports of activity. Sure, the odds are someone might have told you, but maybe not.  People don’t want to look crazy.
4. Invite a pack of young adults to test the house out – if they survive the night, you’re good. Ghosts and demons can’t resist the lure of the young adults. Alternatively, if they flee before dawn, you might want to pass on the property.
5. Do a walk-through of the house, on your own. How does it make you feel?  As in all good horror movies, sometimes you just need to trust your instincts.

Lauren Oliver’s Before I Fall is a book to swallow whole, to devour quickly, and then to re-read more slowly. Honestly, I can’t believe this is (as I’m assured by multiple sources online) her “debut” novel. The writing itself is beautiful, and I didn’t once think the voice was faltering. Perhaps I’m too generous, but I was really lured in by the voice of the main character, Sam.
Far from perfect, Sam’s that girl you all know, and you all hate – pretty, popular, cruel, and unrepentant. Before I Fall is a shockingly vivid and insightful look at how she comes apart during the course of the book, finding layers underneath she didn’t know she was capable of having, while she relives a day that ends in her own death, seven times.

Sam isn’t the only compelling character in this story .
We meet Juliet, a social reject teetering on the edge. And her sister, a beautiful, interesting character waiting to be squished.

Izzy, who is Sam’s sister but more awkward and independent than any third grader has a right to be.

Kent, the world’s most dorky, adorable, and altogether heartbreakingly neglected good guy. He’s far too good for Sam, from page one, and even though I was dead set against liking his character, I couldn’t help it–I can see people I know in him, and people I don’t appreciate enough, day to day, too.

Lindsay rounds out the important cast by being the “bad” guy, the popular girl who helped forge Sam into what she is in the beginning: a mean girl.

The story itself is tightly written, a fast-paced story despite repeating the same day several times (to varying results). Each day takes us further into the picture, shows us more about the characters, and changes Sam, as well as our perception of the people she’s already cast judgment on.

I’m not sure it’s really my sort of book. I probably won’t hold on to it (if only because it’s so much easier to get people to read books if you give them to them). But it’ll stick with me, I think, at least for a while.

It’s not perfect, but it’s powerful.

Read this book.

Disclosure: I picked up this book because I saw the cover and thought “huh, it’s about a dead girl.” Also, because I have been hunting for ghosts, and I was craving a dead girl story. More of the ghostly kind, like Bad Girls Don’t Die than the sad kind, like Lurlene McDaniels. This book was neither, and shocked me in ways I couldn’t have predicted.
Further disclosure: I tried to find it on the shelves, because let’s face it, that cover is haunting, and they didn’t have it. I had to ask the book lady to get it for me. She couldn’t find it in the computer, but that darn cover, it was so striking she remembered it, too, and was (fortunately) able to find it for me. Yes, this is why I like my local bookstore ladies.
Some books you bring home from the bookstore, you read a few pages, you wander away to do chores, you come back, you read a bit more, you maybe go have dinner, finish the book in a day or two.
It was really worth the effort, though. The book is fantastic.

Over on Rath & Ruins we were discussing character flaws–specifically, what our favorite character’s biggest flaws were. How did these relate to each of us, individually? Why were these flaws important? What made them stick with us?

Many of us chose people we identified with. Characters of a certain type that spoke to our own faults, be it overemotional reactions, easily hurt feelings, or lack of courage. These faults become the character’s strengths, or something to be overcome. If we can overcome our faults alongside a book character, does it make us feel like we’ve accomplished something, too?

Is that why we like dynamic characters the most? Because we grow and change with them, as we read?

-Brittany Maresh

Even before the movies came out, Draco Malfoy was one of those characters that people split two ways on — love or hate. He was a foil to Harry Potter–even though they were the same age, their upbringing was polar opposites. He was rich instead of poor. Pureblood instead of mixed. Raised with magic instead of as a muggle. Light hair instead of dark. And he chose to go to Slytherin, gladly, instead of to beg his way into Gryffendor. There was all this potential there, and people loved it. Or hated it, if they were solid with Harry.

It wasn’t that Tom Felton was hot (though that plays a huge part in it now, I believe), it was that he was such a 2-D character compared to everyone else that people were forced to believe that somewhere in there, he had to have some depth. They could see the potential that J.K. Rowling couldn’t show since I have decided to believe that it was Harry’s prejudices and not her own that muddled our perspective of the Slytherins.

I think a lot of controversial characters work like that. People like them because there’s just enough there that they can see the potential, and not enough there that they have to if they don’t want to.

-Brittany Maresh

In just a week, I’ll be going to a writing workshop. I’m torn between hyped (it’s a chance to be a writing geek) and paranoid (it’s a chance to mess up spectacularly in front of my peers). I’m obsessing–like I normally do–to the point where my poor website has been clogged with a LIST O’ THINGS TO BRING TO CONFERENCES.

Let’s just say my idea of planning for conferences is more in line with flying half way across the country to dress up in costume, hang with friends, and stay as far away from Business Casual as possible (unless the costume calls for it).

I’m a bit nervous, even without that added  cause for alarm, because I’m working on a scary project where the characters are slightly insane. In the “wow, those poor characters,” sort of way. To cope, I’ve started reading all those old books from when I was a kid. You know the ones.  R.L. Stein,  Chris Pike, Ann M. Martin, The Girl With Silver Eyes–yeah, THOSE ones.

My stack right now consists of:

• Briar Rose and The Devil’s Arithmetic by Jane Yolen
• Interstellar Pig and Parasite Pig by William Sleator
• A Time For Andrew, Daphne’s Book, Wait Till Helen Comes, The Doll In The Garden, and the newer Deep and Dark and Dangerous by Mary Downing Hahn
• Magic Kingdom For Sale, Wizard at Large, and The Black Unicorn by Terry Brooks
• Poppy, Something Upstairs, Poppy and Rye, and Ragweed by Avi
• Stonewords, and Zoe Rising by Pam Conrad

Okay, not horribly ancient books, but still. I enjoy them immensely and am glad they’re here to carry me through a difficult chapter.  I have to admit, as a kid I really loved ghosts. Scratch that, I’m almost done with college and I still love ghosts.  A good (but sad) ghost story is still the key to my heart.

-Brittany Maresh

I honestly believe that all the best writers have periods of “book therapy,” where they devour every book they can get their hands on, searching for something they’re missing or something that will set them back in balance with them self, or maybe just something to make them smile when they haven’t smiled enough, or when they’ve been working hard and are too tired to pull out a pen. Or heck, just because they can.  I love words, and books are a particularly fine treat, so perhaps even when we’re just feeling self-indulgent.

Either way, I’m engaging in a bit of book therapy, right now.  Reading everything that I can get my hands on.

It’s a good state to be in.

-Brittany Maresh