The Power of the Written Word

Today, I have absolutely nothing domestically related to share.  Well, I do, but that won't be what this particular post is about, because I am just not there in my mind.  Why not, you ask?  Well, I'll tell you!

I have been reading a particular book series since my Junior year in high school (The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan for those who are just dying to know).  A few hours ago, I finally read the last word in the last sentence on the last page of the last book...ever.  Boom.  Suddenly, the nearly twelve year journey I had been on was at an end (this makes me 29 for those of you who are frantically trying to do the math to figure out just how old I really am.  I, personally, try not to think about it (Math or my age)).  

James Oliver Rigney, Jr.
Pen Name: Robert Jordan
1948-2007

Jordan and I, we'd been on a pretty wild ride together.  I mean our relationship has lasted longer than my marriage, longer than the Mr. and I have even known one another!  We've laughed and we've cried together.  One of us even died, but the story went on (thanks to his wife and editor, Harriet, and Brandon Sanderson, the author who stepped up and completed the works.  Way tah beeee!).

This all has me feeling a bit drained, mentally, physically, emotionally, but in that generally satisfied way that comes with knowing you've completed something.  At the moment, I'm having a hard time deciding how I feel.  Mainly I think I may be in shock that, after all this time, it's over... for now.

The greatest theme in this particular series has been that there are "neither beginnings nor endings to the Wheel of Time.  But it was a beginning."  The final words, perhaps inevitably, were "There are no endings, and never will be endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time.  But it was an ending."  

The journey may have ended for me, this time around, but (as I have done several times over the years, when a new book was set to be released) I can start the journey all over again, back at the beginning.  I can share these and other stories with those I love.

I digress.  This, believe it or not, Ripley, isn't specifically about the series I've been nattering on about for 20 minutes (though to readers, it's probably more like two?).  It's about the kind of devotion that the written word can instill in people.  For me, it was these books (and I'll be honest, many, many, others, but this was the Big Kahuna), for others it may be a simple poem or a news article that really reaches down and grabs something in you.  For those people who maintain they "don't read" and don't have a care to, I pfft! at you.  Have you ever seen a movie that was just da-BOMB (...I am so not pulling off that slanguage...)?  Guess what, somebody put the proverbial pen to paper (these days "fingers to keys" is more likely) for that too.  Songs too!

The point is, that there is so much power in words.  We can use them to entertain, sadden, hurt, or delight.  We can create entire new worlds or explore the one we're living in with just some nouns and consonants pushed together!  Whoa.  That is epic.  

As a self proclaimed writer (though maybe my degree (English-Creative Writing) gives me more street cred than that?), I am very careful about what words and use and how.  Like Spiderman says (or, rather, the writer who created Spiderman's dialogue) "with great power, comes great responsibility."  I don't know if I will ever be one of the greats like Tolkien, Jordan, Martin, or Lewis (What?  I loves me some epic fantasy.  Way better than a angsty girl in Washington obsessing over a sparkly vampire man-boy), but that's not the point.  

The point is the transcendence beyond yourself that can be found in the written word (even if you watch it in pictures on the TV screen) and isn't that worth more than words? (Like the play there, words are more than words, get it? *wink, wink*)

Warning! Personal Gripe About to Commence

Hi, folks!  As any of you avid readers of Vacuuming in Pearls may know, I have been doing one post daily in the "Guidelines to a Stay-Homer's Sanity" series, but after a very long and exhausting day of attempting to shop for Baby J, I had to get some of this out:

What is up with the children's clothing industry?!?  There are hundreds of choices for cute little dresses and jumpers and SHOES (like seriously, ridiculous amounts of shoes) for little girls eeeeeverrryyywhheeerrreee.  Don't even get me started on accessories.

Can I find ONE simple pair of shoes, or a spring jacket, or even just a couple of cute outfits for a boy?  Hell no.  I have been scouring this week for the above mentioned things and have become increasingly more and more agitated about the lack of selection for boys.  Seriously, do retailers really believe that only girls need to wear shoes and jackets?! Really?!?

Have you ever noticed that when you enter the children's section of a store that the frilly girl things are right out front and center and, generally, the boys stuff is hidden around the back side.  Why?  Oh because it's not as completely adorable as the girls' stuff.  So, then, start making boys stuff so freakin' adorable that people who don't even have kids want to stop and buy it!

And, no, I don't mean let's start adding sparkles and tutus to boys clothes.  I mean start making clothes that have a personality to them.  Generally speaking, when looking for boys clothes, you get to choose between a handful of themes like sports, cutesy animals, cars or rock-n-roll, oh, or the crude ones like "Boob Man" you see in a few places.  (I get that people often find these funny, but I just have a hard time finding the humor in "dick and fart" jokes) all of which are imprinted on onesies, sweatshirts, overalls and regular every day pants like sweats or jeans.  Not much variety here and apparently accessories like shoes are restricted to sport or racing car themed tennies.

I would love to see some variety in the boys section!  Just because a parent has a male child rather than a female one should that automatically make them not care what said child wears?  Should the child, as it grows into its own personality, not be able to decide what their personal style is regardless of gender?

I think the problem with this lies in the old misconceptions that A. boys shouldn't wear anything nice, they'll just dirty it/ruin it and B. that dressing a boy well will in some way make them more "girly" and therefore precondition them to be gay when they are older.  Again, don't get me started on the homophobic inaccuracy of this perception.

To these ideas I respond with two words and an explicative:  "Cary-f'ing-Grant!"  (So classy!)

When did dressing well become strictly a feminine endeavor?  Throughout most of history, men have had just as large a presence in clothing and fashion as women (think 18th Century France for a moment).

Taking care and pride in how you present yourself is an important part of building self confidence (Remember Rule #2?).  I see no reason to exclude boys from this soley based on some sort of societal gender role issue.

Please keep in mind that this does not mean I will in anyway deny Baby J the cheesy Sponge Bob tee he wants at five because it's just the coolest thing.  I only want to encourage him to dress to suit his own personality, whatever that may be, and I like to hope he'll have the opportunity to "dress up" a bit when he so chooses.

Besides, for now, I'm the one doing the shopping and I happen to like dressing my child in clothes that are unimaginably adorable and still "very boy!"  *end rant*