Fox in a box - an introduction
So.
Hello.
I’m new to this blogging lark. I have never previously been enough of a nerd to indulge in such oddities, but since technology and society seems to demand this sacrifice of me, and also because I aspire to one day write professionally in some form and need the practice, here I am. I suppose this “entry” is to act as a sort of introduction to what is to come.
So, hello. Again. My name is Helen. I have just turned 22 and I find that this occurance has made me lament my age enormously. The life plan innocently crafted at 18 is now seeming further from reach and I may at some point just have to come to terms with the likelihood of NOT finding a young, handsome, incredibly wealthy pilot to marry by the time I turn 26. I quite often find myself complaining about something and blaming it on my “age”, which is disgusting.
I hail from the vast and wonderful realms of the East Midlands, although I believe myself a northerner at heart and catch myself saying things like “t’internet” and “aye” when tired and have occasionally been accused of prolonging my “o” sounds when saying things like “nose” or “oh” in a North Yorkshire fashion. I blame the 3 years I spent in Sheffield and all my northern friends for this.
In terms of my interests… My interests in life are mostly artistic. I enjoy theatre - particularly Shakespeare, opera, ballets and West End musicals, films - World War 2 dramas (yes, including Pearl Harbor), blockbuster types and as the architypal female I am of course not exactly adverse the the odd rom-com, music - mostly emo, punk, rock, metal and anything of that sort of ilk, although, as a sort of classically trained pianist and violinist, I also love classical - mainly soundtracks but I love anything with harmonies that make my spine tingle, and of course, I LOVE literature. As a literature graduate (and soon to be post-graduate student) and aspiring writer, this comes as no surprise. I have read far more widely since graduating than I ever did as a student, probably because what I read is no longer prescribed by reading lists. My particular area of interest is the Gothic, mostly early and Victorian as I love the Brontes (Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, accompanied by Dracula, formed the subject of my undergraduate dissertation) and The Picture of Dorian Gray has to be one of my favourite novels of all time, despite being almost annoyingly typical of Oscar Wilde in its decadence and debauchery. However, show me something more modern of the Gothic genre, and I won’t turn my nose up at it. Other personal favourites include The Bell Jar, the His Dark Materials trilogy, Catch 22 and, again, architypically femalely, the Twilight Saga.
Speaking of literature, then, I have arrived most neatly at the point where I feel I should explain the reason I have been dragged kicking and screaming into the world of blogging. If this were an academic essay, I think my structure would be something to be proud of here. Unlike what I suspect of most bloggers, I do not intend to use this blog to rave, in broken, text-English, about how much I hate my life, wish I was dead, wish everyone else was dead, am addicted to self harming, etc etc.
As previously mentioned, I am an aspiring writer and this blog is primarily to serve as my practice at creating something that may one day be worth publishing for real, on paper and in a book. As such, I intend to fill my pages mostly with reviews of things I have read, or heard, or seen, and pull them apart if I didn’t like them, or sing their praises if I found myself reacting without disgust.
So, enjoy, or don’t. It’s of no consequence to me as long as you read. To evoke emotion is all I ask.
“The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things” - Oscar Wilde, the preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray - 1891
