A Book is a Book: Literary Vs. Commercial

A Book is a Book: Literary Vs. Commercial

Hello everyone,

What do you see in the picture? Books, right? A book means someone (the author) is trying to give you a message. Trying to transport you to a different place, time, or simply to make you see your own world in a different point of view. The whole purpose of a book is simply to give you a message, to make you think critically, or to make you stop thinking about your daily life, and just drown within its pages. The same for a movie, play, music, painting, or any form of art that triggers something inside you.

But I was astonished to discover over the weekend, while I was taking a self-publishing course, that here in Brazil some books are not considered Literature, because they are more commercial or because their writing style isn’t as refined as others. I felt like these types of books were underestimated, as if they weren’t as good or valued as the others.

I always thought we had one Young-Adult genre, where all the sub-genres derived from, however, we have a Literary YA, and a commercial YA. (The names are different in Portuguese but won’t change the meaning of what I’m saying.) So where does this in-between commercial YA lies? Why Brazilians are not publishing Young-Adult novels that are not so refined (but still sends you a message clearly), and are more commercial? Most of the books we consume here are Young-Adult novels that come from english speaking countries, however, we ourselves are not writing them.

Doesn’t a book still have the same value even if it’s simply entertaining, and not didactic or refined, or stylistic more polished? I believe that books, no matter what genre, should all have the same value, because they are all trying to teach you something, entertain you, or make you feel something. The more rules we put on how books should look like, the less people will read it, because they will stay within one category. A book is supposed to make you feel fun, silly, courageous, strong, vulnerable, and intelligent. Just like we have different moods and tastes, so should books. Yes, some people think that YA books are silly or for teenagers, but they still make me feel good. Isn’t that the whole point of reading something? Having a good time?

If we want to stop complaining that the new generation doesn’t read that many books, why don’t we stop discriminating books in the first place? If it makes you feel happy, whole, and overall satisfied that is all that matters.

Don’t give up reading,

Fefe.

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Poem Moment

Poem Moment

I was going through my journal and found an old poem I wrote two years ago. It made me realize how some things might seem that will destroy you, as if you wouldn’t be able to pass through it. But then, time passes and you are okay, and whole again. We need to remember that we don’t need to put our faith or happiness on people. They should be part of it, and grow from it, but they shouldn’t be the source of it. We need to learn how to be complete on our own, so people will come and share their “complete” with you, and more and more will be added to who you are.

With that being said, I am sharing the poem I wrote, because even if it’s not a part of who I am anymore, it was a part of me for quite some time. Some people might see themselves in the poem, or recognize feelings they are having. So, for those who do I say, “It’s okay, you will get through whatever is haunting your soul, and it won’t kill you. It will make you stronger.”

Unnamed Poem:

To say okay, when you are not okay

To smile, when you want to cry

To pretend you don’t care, when you do

It’s all a mask, it’s all a lie

It’s a cry for help that you are failing to see

I’m hurting inside, how can it be?

That you neglect me when I’m near

Don’t try to find me when I disappear

But if I do, would you miss me?

Or shed a tear and move on quickly

When I would break if you ever left me. 

 

I didn’t break. I’m still here, and so are all of you.

Love,

Fefe

Why Being in Love Means Being a Fool?

Why Being in Love Means Being a Fool?

I’ve been thinking about love lately, not just love but feelings in general. How many times I’ve seen friends being in love and hearing that they are a fool for it? And the more I think about it, the more terrified I become with the conclusion that people are so afraid of feeling something that they rather hurt someone else instead of being vulnerable and be hurt. Even worse: people are so self-centered that they can’t see outside their range.

I’m not talking about guys being jerks, or girls being shallow, or none of those typical things you might hear. I’m talking about people in general. About how one person will try everything to grab your attention, while you are after someone else, and that person is after someone else, so we never find an end to that circle.

In a world where girls fight the standards to scream their independency, guys have to learn more and more how to live and share the duties of a home, where people are so “connected” instantly and language barriers are broken, still we seem to drift more and more apart from one another. Why is that?

I feel like people are scared of wanting something. Even if they say “that’s how I want someone”, they might run away when that person comes popping in their lives, because they might not be ready for that. Or better yet, they might not  be ready to have someone who will have so much power over them, because knowing someone may hurt you is extremely scary. So we close ourselves up in our own world, gathering a list of lovers one right after the other, always having someone to massage our ego, so we don’t have to face the truth that one person might make you feel more than all those others.

We say we want something, but when we find it, we build walls up against it. Doesn’t make sense, right? I’m not saying that we should live like the romance books, where all is perfect and love is stronger than anything else. Those things are beautiful for the stories, but they are not real. Those people are not real, and no matter how many flaws a writer can give them, you can’t flush them out of the page.

No. I’m talking about people who will make you happy and laugh, who will disappoint you because you create certain expectations in your head, who will support you and fail you, who will fight you, and, sometimes, who will just be there, with none of these extreme feelings that you encounter in the pages of a novel.

Perhaps you will meet someone who will make you feel differently, and I pray that you have the courage to tell that person how you feel–which most of us lack to do. We just keep pretending that we don’t care until that person walks out of our life.

If not, you might just keep living life like a ghost, just bumping into the next person and the next, to keep pretending that you are strong or wanted.

I’m not saying that we are incomplete without someone else, not by far. I believe we all come to this life as a whole, and we can live, breathe, build a career, follow our dreams all on our own. What I’m saying is, maybe someone could be there with you, cheering you, challenging you, or helping you put your feet on the ground sometimes.

So my wish for you is to be weak and be a fool. But don’t be a fool with shut eyes and closed heart, because you might miss something or someone.