Back home, self means.
Thank goodness it’s been raining, so she doesn’t have to worry about catch-up watering.
She pores over her AWP goodies, reluctant to put any of them away.
She watched bits of the Oscars yesterday, and was surprised at how subdued J-Law seemed. Almost, tired. Her eyes didn’t have last year’s sparkle. She looked thin and elegant, but — Good Lord, self never thought there’d come a day when she’d welcome Miley Cyrus’s stubborn commitment to hi-jinks.
Help help help! What has happened to that Funny Girl of yester-year? Nicholas Hoult was by her side, looking neither happy nor unhappy. Are these two really getting married?
Today, self does her usual thing: Costco. Laundry. Scanning her e-mail for rejections.
She inadvertently let her car registration lapse, and it’s a smog test year, boo.
Perhaps now she can finally focus on finishing Divergent. She bought her copy months ago.
The heroine is named Beatrice (which is a nice name, though not as unique as Katniss). She is still deep in the nest of her Abnegation family. There is a really intriguing passage on p. 37 (end of Chapter 4):
I peer into his room and see an unmade bed and a stack of books on his desk. He closes the door. I wish I could tell him that we’re going through the same thing. I wish I could speak to him like I want to instead of like I’m supposed to. But the idea of admitting that I need help is too much to bear, so I turn away.
I walk into my room, and when I close my door behind me, I realize that the decision might be simple. It will require a great act of selflessness to choose Abnegation, or a great act of courage to choose Dauntless, and maybe just choosing one over the other will prove that I belong.
Hmmm, that’s truly excellent writing. It continues excellent through Chapter 5, when self has to stop to greet The Man.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.