'Love in the Asylum' by Lisa Carey

It's not until I was at the second last chapter of Love in the Asylum (by Lisa Carey) that I realised how dexterously Carey had handled writing it. Not only did she shift between two points of view (the protagonist, Alba, in first-person POV, and the male lead, Oscar, in third), she also inserted a subsidiary narrative in the form of a chain of unsent letters in the story. The letters form a quest for the rehabilitating Alba, who has been in the asylum for bipolar disorder ever since her father gave her baby away (she was nineteen then).

As the title suggests, it is a romance set in an asylum, which houses mentally-unwell females along with junkies. Oscar is a drug addict, and a self-destructive one who doesn't see any future for himself, which makes him hesitant to commit to Alba, even though their attraction is undeniable. When Alba chances upon the letters (dated in the 1930s), which span across the years the addresser was committed to the asylum by her unfeeling husband, she makes it a quest to find the addressee, Peter, and hand him the letters that his unwell mother had written to him.

It's an unconventional sort of love story, with a lot of things unsaid and a lot of reservations because of Alba and Oscar's respective challenges, and while it wasn't earth-shatteringly remarkable, the way Carey weaves her narration is impressively skilful.

I'd read her latest novel, Every Visible Thing, a while back. It's a family saga that explores the ramifications of the disappearance of the eldest son, how the younger children deal with the sudden loss of their brother, and how the family is pushed to the brink of crumbling and then pulled back again. Frankly, in terms of the genre, the best I've ever read if probably Christie Hodgen's Hello, I Must Be Going, and Alice Hoffman's The Story Sisters, but Every Visible Thing is still, in my opinion, worth a read.

But what made me pick up Love in the Asylum was - yes, you've guessed it - its themes of love, madness and salvation. I'm just dying to read stories about insanity and love.

The lull in blogging was a result of the new semester beginning. And I know it's not an excuse - something should still be written no matter how busy it gets - but when I'm not reading Love in the Asylum (by Lisa Carey) and Steppenwolf (by Hermann Hesse), or watching Jerry-related clips on YouTube, I'm reading my Economics textbook.

I hear you gasp in shock. Yes, while I initially planned to take EC1101E as an exposure module (to fulfil the 5-exposure module requirement), I have now decided to minor in Econs. That decision only solidified after the first lecture of EC1101E and I read my textbook. My initial plan was to major in English and minor in New Media, but after one module in NM, I realised NM is really not for me. So many presentations and discussions and project work. I guess I'm more of the academic type rather than the hands-on type. It's just easier to study theories alone than work with a bunch of people and entrust your grades in their hands. So the problem is not the module, but the clash between the nature of the module and my own nature.

And for some reason, studying Econs is a lot more enjoyable now than at A' levels. Maybe because the lecturer's funnier, or there's less pressure now because I'm revising Econs now rather than learning it anew. It's actually sort of interesting, Econs. I remember Microecons was horrible, with all its social benefits and marginal costs and shutdown conditions. That made me dread Econs, but J2 was a whole lot better because we got the Macroecons, which I found more relevant and alive, with trade and comparative advantages and the like.

Anyway. On a completely unrelated note, I'm in my Singapore, Asia and American Power (SSA1203) lecture now, watching a rather violent clip about the Vietnam War. John F Kennedy and Nixon were pretty obsessed with eliminating Communism from Indochina, to the extent that they crippled their own economy. Lots of bombs and blood and running.

But it was a good thing MM Lee was so adamantly against Communism, though. Imagine living in a Communist country. That's like living in the world in The Giver (by Lois Lowry), with everything determined for you. I'm not qualified to say which political model is better, but as a citizen democracy is the best model as far I as I know.

(I realise my writing sounds a little stilted now. That's because I'm trying to concentrate on the clip while blogging, so my glowing personality is unable to shine through.)

Anyway, as aforementioned, I'm currently reading Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse. I know I mentioned before how the book seemed to be just about a misanthrope who destests the bourgeoise society, but it also offered a very detailed character depiction of the Steppenwolf (who isn't the narrator). Hesse is something of a genius, which I guess explains his Nobel Prize for Literature in 1946.

Break now. Thank goodness. Such a grim lecture we're having.

And we're back to the rejections

[12/01/10]
Dear Joyce,

I'm pleased to tell you I got the chance to sit down and read the first pages of your manuscript and I'm interested in seeing more. I would love to read the entire manuscript. You can email it to me as a Word attachment or you can mail it to me at the address below. (Please write REQUESTED MATERIAL in the subject of your email or on the cover of your envelope.)

Best,
Suzie Townsend
FinePrint Literary Management
240 W. 35th Street, Suite 500
New York, NY 10001
Office: 212-279-1282
Direct: 858-336-4222


[16/01/10]
Dear Joyce,

I have finished reading your pages of BEDFUL OF MOONLIGHT. After careful evaluation, I have decided that I am not the right agent to represent your work. Unfortunately I just didn't connect to Kristen or the pacing of the story the way I wanted to. I'm sure another agent will feel quite differently about your material though.

Thank you for considering our agency. I wish you the best of luck finding representation.

Best,
Suzie Townsend

The Mysterious Benedict Society (by Trenton Lee Stewart) is so addictive. I'm on his latest sequel now, The MBS and the Prisoner's Dilemma. It's a book for young readers, but the author never speaks down to them. In fact, the writing style is very classy, but also engaging enough for children (judging from its numerous accolades). Kudos to him!

There's something about reading children's books. It's like returning home and settling under the covers at the end of the day, knowing you're safe and protected. Maybe that's the reason why children's stories are able to reach such a wide audience.

(Oh, and on a sidenote, if you were wondering what happened to my New Year resolution to become a vegetarian, here's an update: I've been eating meat everyday since I wrote that resolution down. I keep telling myself every time I slip that tomorrow, tomorrow I'll become a vegetarian. But maybe it's just not in my blood to become one. I love meat too much. I'm sorry, Earth and the animals.)

Now, back to books. If anyone knows of books with madness and romance in them, please recommend them to me. I'm dying for something with this combination. I borrowed Steppenwolf (by Hermann Hesse), and I don't know, maybe I was expecting something else, something more dramatic. But the alienated Steppenwolf is shaping up to be simply a misanthropic loner who despises bourgeoise society, not some broken, murderous man looking for love and salvation.

There's this book called Shadows, however, by Joan de la Haye, as recommended by Marcia Colette, writer. Here's the blurb:

Sarah is forced to the edge of sanity by the ghosts of her family’s past. Suffering from violent and bloody hallucinations, she seeks the help of psychiatrist and friend, Michael Brink.

After being sent to an institution in a catatonic state covered in blood – from stabbing her unfaithful boyfriend – Sarah is forced to confront the truth about her father’s death and the demon, Jack, who caused her father’s suicide and who is now the reason for her horrific hallucinations. Unlike her father, Sarah refuses to kill herself. She bargains for her life and succeeds.

In Sarah’s struggle to regain her life and her sanity, she discovers there is more to the world than she could ever have imagined, and it leaves her seeking the answer to the nagging question, “Who is really mad?”

That, honey, is what I'm looking for. I think all of us are a little crazy. It's only whether we're willing to explore that side of ourselves. I mean, who's to say what I think is crazy isn't just someone else's version of what's normal, right? The thing about those we deem as madmen is that they are able to justify their thoughts, their actions. They are the heroes of their worlds, as we are of ours. So don't you think it's fascinating to understand what's going through their minds as they go about their 'crazy' lives? If I were proficient enough, I'd definitely write a novel with a misunderstood character.

But I shan't end on such a grim note. Here's a great picture to end this post!

I guess, it being the new year - a few days after the new year - I should at least acknowledge it. 2009 wasn't a bad year for me, really. I had eight months of slacking around after A's, and Semester 1 of uni was pretty okay because for the first time in my life, I can plan my own timetable.

Anyway, New Year's was spent at the Tanah Merah Safra Resort chalet with Vonne and the gang. I love that place. It's literally a stone's throw away from the sea, and recently I've been addicted to the sea, maybe because my current WIP is set there. Speaking of which, I REFUSE to let Red December Skies be eaten up by the mid-story goblin. I'm at page 144 now, and it's starting to slow down, because of some details I didn't consider when I first started writing the novel. Triv and I were discussing them yesterday. You'd think that after three novels (one abandoned precisely because of the lacking of detailed planning halfway through the story) I'd learn my lesson and do more intricate planning before I plunge into a Shiny New Idea. But I've always thought the beauty of creative writing -especially novel-writing - is that the story can embark on one of the millions of possibilities and take you anywhere. Too much planning can kill the spirit and essence of a story, and take the fun out of writing it. So with a relatively solid idea, I always go straight into it and let it work out the kinks itself later on. I'm not completely stuck for Red December Skies; there are just some details I have to consider that I hadn't thought were so significant before.

School's starting in less than a week. Here are the modules I'm planning to take, the first three of which have already been allocated to me (successful bidding):

1. EL3254 - Media, Discourse and Society
2. EC1101E - Intro to Econs (to fulfil my exposure-module requirement - we're required to take 5, including one for our Major)
3. SN1101E - South Asia (another exposure module, to fulfil the Asian Studies requirement)
4. PC1322 - Understanding the Universe. I planned to take this as a GEM (General Education Module, the university requires everyone to take one Arts and one Science). It's like Cosmology and stuff, sounds cool. Unfortunately for me, many FASS students think so too. The other Science modules are too science-y for us, like Nano-whatsits and Bio-whatever and Quantum-whotheheckcares. So this is practically the only module left for us to take. I was considering some Math module, but it was too much like A'level Math. I'm through with A'level Math. I believe I barely scraped by that A, because I still struggle with H2 Math when I revisit it now. So anyway, I was outbidded for Understanding the Universe (GEK1520), so I have no choice but to take it as a Breadth module (which also requires us to take 2 modules not from FASS - it can be from Business, Science, Computing, Design, etc).
5. SSA1203 - Singapore, Asia and American Power. Singapore Studies - requirement module. Enough said.

My intention is to clear all my requirement modules asap, so I can concentrate on my Major and Minor modules, as well as my Unrestricted Electives (we're required to take 7 modules (or more if you have time and money to spare) that we're interested in, like language modules, or Intro to Creative Writing, Intro to Prose Writing, and many others). The good thing is, there's no project work required for EC1101E, and the exam is not essay-based. Also, there's no exam for PC1322 (but bidding hasn't started for it yet). And, there's no tutorial for EL3254, just a three-hour lecture once a week, so I don't have to go back to school so many times or worry about bidding for the tutorial timeslot.

Plus, if anyone needs secondary-level English/E*Math/A*Math tuition, or knows anyone who needs them, drop me a comment and let me know. Thanks.

From The Bookshelf Muse's blog (14 December 2009):


The Seven Deadly Sins of Novel Writing

In my mind, there are seven big things that can undermine a novel. I want to address them all, but to avoid having a post 8 miles long, I'll break them up so they each have their own real estate. Today let's look at the first sin on the list!

Sin#1: Low Stakes

Stakes are paramount in a novel - they force your character to act. High personal stakes create strong conflict because each choice or action will carry a hefty price. Low stakes lead to mediocre conflict and a risk that the reader will not care about the outcome.

Often low stakes can be attributed to two things:

1) The storyline lacks adequate conflict

Conflict is the key to holding the reader's attention and the driving force behind forward story movement and character investment. Pushing your character to clash with the forces against him or her is what gets the blood pumping - this is conflict! By infusing your story with scenes where characters experience heightened emotion and face powerful obstacles you not only create high stakes in your novel, you also raise them for the reader. Pages turn because your audience is drawn into the action, compelled to find out what happens next.

2) The writer doesn't push the characters hard enough

Sometimes the stakes are high, the consequences dire, the action bursting off the page ... and the character does not rise to the challenge. While indecision is often a large part of any thought process when facing difficult choices, it cannot overrun the character's actions. At some point, the character MUST COMMIT to a chosen course and put their all into it.

Other times, the writer sabotages the story because they care too much about a character to shove them in harm's way or force them to do the dirty work. If circumstances or another character always swoop in and save the day, the stakes flatline. CHARACTERS ARE NOT OUR CHILDREN. Never hesitate to throw them into the path of a bus. Only then can we really see what they are made of.

Can you think of other ways low stakes ruin a novel? Have you ever cared about a character so much you struggled to force them to face their fears?

I'm working on my New Year's Resolution now. I don't usually put much stock in it, because I end up breaking every one on the list anyway. But this time, I will become a vegetarian.

I know. It's laughable. Me, a vegetarian? I can't go a day without meat. But eating less meat brings about two benefits:

a) Less demand for meat - although this is rather insignificant, because I'm just one person. But if everyone ate less meat, less land needs to be cleared to rear cattle or other animals that provide meat. That means less forested areas need to be cleared. That means more trees and more wildlife!

b) Meat contains lots of carcinogens, which increases one's risk of getting cancer. Enough said.

So, yes. Vegetarian. I'll still eat fish and all that, of course. But no more chicken or pork or mutton or duck (I don't eat beef).

Anyway, I had a desperate desire to go to the Marina South Pier yesterday, so I dragged my butt all the way there. Had to take two buses to get there, one of which made me wait for half an hour. But I was dying for some sea air. Plus, it would be good inspiration for my work-in-progress, Red December Skies. I'm at page 120 now, still as excited about it as when I first started it. That feeling so reminds me of working on When the Lilies Turn Orange.

Just finished rewatching Mars yesterday. Am feeling empty now, because there are no other dramas that can match up to it. It's like reading a really good book, one of the best, and then not being able to find another that can quite match up to it. Ugh. Don't like this feeling. Can anyone recommend any other drama or book that has madness and romance in it? See why my first standalone novel (Lilies) is about madness and romance? There's not enough of such stories, which is why I'm writing them, if only to satisfy my own craving.

"Otherness is the refusal to acknowledge the validity of another's experience ... When I'm writing, I try to see the novel's events through the eyes of every single character in turn. Each of those characters has a worldview that is reasonable and cohesive to him or her - whether or not it is reasonable to anyone else."

~ Jennifer R. Hubbard, writer

Thanks to Shiver (by Maggie Stiefvater, as mentioned in my previous post), my eyes have been opened to the beauty that is Rainer Maria Rilke's poems. Here are a couple of samples, two of my favourites:


Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes--do you recall? And we
did make so many! For there were countless numbers
of stars: each time we looked above we were
astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,
while in our hearts we felt safe and secure
watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,
knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

(Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming)


Again And Again, However We Know The Landscape Of Love

Again and again, however we know the landscape of love
and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,
and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others
fall: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lie down again and again
among the flowers, face to face with the sky.

(Translated by Stephen Mitchell)

Did I mention? Lei from Meteor Garden (played by Vic) is my muse for Jerry (from my work-in-progress, Patches of Blue Sky, now renamed to Red December Skies). So beautiful it hurts.

I'm thinking of taking EN2271 as one of my modules next semester -Introduction to Playwriting. The thing is, it would clash with another module I want to take, EL3245: Media, Discourse and Society. Moreover, I'm not very sure if I want to take this as one of my Unrestricted Electives. We're supposed to take 7 of them, as per the requirements of the University. So there are other modules like Introduction to Creative Writing and Introduction to Prose Writing, that I want to take as well, but they're not offered this coming semester. So should I tak EL3254?

Anyway, application for the module is exclusive. Online bidding is not enough. They want us to write three scenes (no longer than one page each) based on three words: Abdication, Vindication and Restitution. On top of that, attach a sample of another type of work, a short story or essay or sorts. Here's my attempt at Vindication.


There had never been any question about it. It was her fault. And for that, she was bound to him forever. Or at least, until she could assuage the guilt or until he forgave her, set her free. But the bonds were too tight; she could barely hope that they would ever snap.

“It’s your fault, Audrey.” He never let her forget that. “If only you hadn’t been there…”

He was drunk again. She remembered the last time he let his brain get addled with alcohol, and shuddered.

“Have you ever thought of getting a job, Ryan?” She had to approach gently. He was too volatile these days.

“A job?” He barked a laugh. “What can a cripple like me work as?”

“You aren’t crippled. You just can’t play anymore.”

He turned to her, his eyes flashing dangerously. “And whose fault is it that I had to give up the piano? And now you’re finding me a nuisance? Am I in your way, Audrey? Am I robbing you of a life?”

“No.” She took his hands. “I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t –”

“I was meant to do great things, be world-famous.” A hazy glimmer settled in his faraway gaze.

When she noticed the hardening of his jaw, it was too late. He had grabbed hold of her. She braced herself for the incoming tide. But instead of hitting her, he took her face and pressed his lips against hers. The smell of alcohol made her gag, but she tried not to struggle.

It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over soon.

But his hands were running all over her now. He gripped her more tightly when she writhed. Her breathing was labored now, as the panic that spread from within her became a blanket of goosebumps. Her skin crawled wherever his hands and lips roamed.

“It’s your fault, Audrey.”

“Please stop. Please.”

“But don’t you see? It’s your fault.” His voice was muffled against her skin.

She imagined herself engulfed by the toxic cloud of guilt, the one that numbed her senses so that she was unable to bring herself to leave him. She choked on it, reveled in it.

Later, she would tell herself it was that cloud of guilt that made her grab his hair and swing his head against the edge of the coffee table. It was that cloud of guilt that made her deaf to the crack of his skull, blind to the crimson river that poured out of him, stained his face.

Right then, she stared down at him, her bloody angel, whom she once loved. She could think of nothing apart from the music he played, a hushed melody that she feared to forget.


Yes, I know. I felt a bit disturbed when I was writing it too. A sort of sinister sadism, or should I say masochism.

On a lighter note, I'm re-watching Meteor Garden. Falling in love with Lei all over again (and of course, Jerry - he slays me, he really does). Did I mention? He's my muse for Patches of Blue Sky. The silent, beautiful boy you feel so protective of you actually ache for him. Oh, Lei. I really think Vic is the perfect choice for the character. Like Jerry said, he looks like he walked out of the manga (Meteor Garden was based on the Japanese manga, Hana Yori Dango). I won't describe him because no words can describe the beauty of the broken, tender-hearted character. But I'm enjoying writing Patches of Blue Sky (change title asap!) because I can't stop swooning over the male lead, whom I've decided to name Jerry *wink*

This is what I've been doing for the past week, preparing for my Sociology exam (3 essays in 2 hours):

http://write-raven.livejournal.com/4162.html

http://write-raven.livejournal.com/4499.html

Despite the an-essay-a-day routine in the week leading up to the most dreaded SC2210 exam on Tuesday (24/11/09), my writing still left much to be desired. Maybe it's because I was required to churn out 3 essays instead of the 1 that I was used to, in JC. For GP, we had an hour and a half to write a properly thought-out essay that you could spare maybe the last 20 minutes editing. But the SC2210 paper was like a Human Geog essay, where I was scribbling so furiously my hands cramped up pretty badly. Not fun. Really, it took away all the fun of writing an essay. Plus, I noticed the length of my essays gradually got shorter and shorter. I was so drained by the end of it. Maybe I've fallen out of the essay-writing momentum. Writing Geog essays is good training. Makes you hardier, because you've endured the agony, the hardship. Builds up your mental stamina ... that falls to bits after a year of slacking.

But the Philo and New Media exams were MCQ, and so is English (this coming Monday), which gave me some breathing space. After the rigour of the JC curriculum, uni feels like a huge relief (apart from the tiresome projects). For now, at least. I don't want to jinx the coming semesters.

Anyway, I've decided to put off Mint for now and focus on Patches of Blue Sky (need to change title soon!), because Mint doesn't seem to have much of a solid plot despite my upbeat note not too long ago about the summary-equals-strong-foundation bullshit. It wasn't quite as painful as I'd expected it to be, probably because I've neglected it for so long (thanks to schoolwork) that I was practically detached from my characters.

Still, good news is, Patches is taking shape very nicely. There's a proper pacing thanks to an element I've decided to incorporate, and the words flow relatively easily (for now - not about to jinx anything!), more easily than for Bedful of Moonlight, almost as easily as When the Lilies Turn Orange. Yiruma's music is a drug, is all I can say.

Triv told me she'd read a couple of my 'stories' that I'd written prior to my first proper novel, Lilies. The word is in inverted commas because, as aforementioned, I don't regard anything I've written before Lilies a proper, publishable story that I'm particularly proud of. So she read High Grounds - which I wrote when I was 15 - and said she could see the improvement from that to my subsequent novels, which is one thing good that came out of it, I suppose. Writing High Grounds was actually fun, despite the many cringe-worthy bits. I enjoyed creating the drama, weaving the romance and spinning the catty betrayals. But in retrospect, it is too run-of-the-mill teen series, very OC-ish, The Clique-ish in my book and very 90210-ish in Triv's (I don't watch that show, so I don't know). Still, when I was writing that, I didn't have being published in mind, because then, I was still under the impression that you needed lots of money for start-up fee to get published: paying the literary agents, the editors, etc. So I was writing that purely for my own enjoyment.

But later, after writing Lilies, I decided I wanted an audience, or at least some people to tell me how they felt when they read my story. So I researched more on publishing, and found out - whaddya know - you don't need any start-up fee, just loads of dedication, perseverance, a tough hide and a willingness to learn - and, of course, the discipline to actually crank out those words.

That's what NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is all about, isn't it? I did think of taking part in it this year, but because November is a hectic month for those in uni, I didn't have the time to embark on the 50k marathon (the idea is to write a 50,000-word novel in a month - that, as they say, involves lots of caffeine).

But that's okay. I'm not the type who forces myself to stare at the computer screen till my eyes bleed, just so I can write the 5 pages I tell myself to write everyday. Some days the words just get the better of you, and some days you can grasp them in your palm. Ultimately, the writer is the one in absolute control of the way his or her novel turns out. And the best thing is, there are so many possibilities. That's scary, in a way, but also what makes creative writing so exciting. I realised it's the only - well, one of the only few - things that actually makes me feel like life is worth living. Some people work hard for the money, for the designer Coach wallets, for the photos of them clubbing that they can stick on Facebook and have everyone comment on it. Others prefer staying at home, Yiruma replaying on the stereo, and creating a world that is entirely their own.

Guess that is the main reason why I am, to quote Chooyan, 'so single I don't even have a has-been', 'as evergreen (a term uni people fancy when referring to themselves or others who have been single since forever) as Bukit Timah Reserve'.

Was in a strange mood yesterday. Maybe I'm just tired of being lonely, tired of never being able to meet up with everyone at one go, tired of not knowing what to say when we're together, tired of the monotony, tired of my numbed state of mind. I want to love, to laugh, to cry like I used to, to hurt, to feel the heightened turmoil of emotions overwhelm me. Do we get so desensitised as we grow older that we hardly respond to anything anymore, that we forget how to love and hate, to feel the pain like we used to, when our worlds were smaller and everything in it swelled in significance as a result?

After lying in bed, staring at the blank wall for an hour, I couldn't stand it. Just had to get it out somehow. So I penned this. It's kind of raw, but it's the only way I knew how to put it.


What do you do
On the nights you have no-one
To love,
The nights you cling
To your pillow for warmth,
Hoping time will fill up
The space next to you?
You lie on your side,
Facing the wall,
Because that is easier
Than looking at the mouth
Of darkness,
Shadows stretched
Into a distorted version of reality,
Ready to swallow you whole.
The baseless ground shakes -
Or is that just your heart,
Trembling,
Inching towards the edge,
About to burst
Into a million tears?

It is only
3a.m.


I just want to thank all my friends - you know who you are - who have been with me for so long, despite everything. I don't do this enough, I know. But I do love you, every one of you who have shared so much - or at least, my version of much - with me.

EL1101E DW8 and the wonderful Dr Mie:

Update 1: Last EL1101E tutorial on Tuesday. We gave Dr Mie a card in which we all wrote little notes, and she was so touched she cried. Which made me cry. There is something inherently infectious about seeing someone cry. More so when they cry with joy. But Mie Sensei is one of the nicest teachers I've ever met. So genuine and earnest. I'm glad to have her as a teacher. Thank you, Mie Sensei!

Update 2: I had a dream on Wednesday night, where my best friend died and I was crying and moping all over the place, and my dad remarked, "If you go around with a gloomy face, no boy is ever going to look at you." Surreal.

Update 3: Yes. I have decided to take part in Nanowrimo. A lot of authors don't seem to be (eg, Sarah Dessen and Erica Orloff), but I figured, what the hell, might as well try it. Although I probably won't be able to complete a 50,000-word (minimum) novel in a month, seeing as how my exams are in two and half weeks' time. I'm submitting a completely new story that I don't remember if I've mentioned here before. It's tentatively titled Patches of Blue Sky, and currently stands only at 1,700-odd words, 8 pages. Yes. Infant stages. I'd given up on Mint for a while - the evil mid-story goblin ate up my words, slowing down my progress; it always happens in the middle of the story - but came up with a 50-word summary during Cultural Studies lecture on Wednesday. I'd initially decided to give up on it because I decided it didn't have enough of a plot to go on, but now that I've come up with a solid stripped-down summary of it, there's a renewed impetus to pull through.

Update 4: My prolonged absence from this blog was a result of drama addiction. Don't flagellate me for it. Dramas have such a massive cult following for a reason; they're described as addictive for a reason. I'm not at the Boys Before Flowers stage yet, though, and I don't think I ever will be, because I just can't watch a show where I'm not interested in the characters. The only Korean drama I've ever watched was when I was, say, 12? And I've not been enticed to watch any others ever since. I don't know why. I don't have anything against anything Korean, but it just doesn't appeal to me. I just finished watching Starlit yesterday, starring His Royal Hotness Jerry Yan. It was ... well ... good, if you like the type of dramas where the girl dies in the end. I don't, but it's a really good show. Dead romantic, of course, otherwise I wouldn't be gushing about it so much. And Jerry was HOT, as usual. He does well in this sort of roles, the sweet and devoted boyfriend roles. Makes me more in love with him. Anyway, I didn't expect Starlit to be this nice, but I was dying for a slice of Jerry, so I decided to watch it even though the first 2 episodes didn't hook me in straight away. I'm glad I stuck through, though, because it's quite a rewarding show.

Now. No more dramas until your exams are over, Joyce. Just one more month.

I miss Jerry already.

New development in Mars that has left me in tears:

It turned out the girl had been raped by her stepfather in the past. That's why she's afraid of her boyfriend, afraid to get physical with him. Her boyfriend suspected she might have been raped and pretended to try to get physical, but she screamed and cried and his worst fears were confirmed.

She ran and hid in one corner of his apartment, sobbing. And he quietly asked her who did it. And then he teared up. His head was bent down and his tears slid down the bridge of his nose. I think I mentioned before how Vic's acting really impressed me. This really blew me away.

I know a lot of people who aren't impressed by Taiwanese dramas, but I think back on all the times I'd scoffed at those dramas and realise how much I've missed out. Think of all the three-dimensional characters I could have come up with, and the plotlines I could have gleaned. Think how much richer that would have made my stories.

Mars is really something, if not mind-blowing.

I had a strange dream last night.

Someone had committed suicide. Jumped off the building. I was there at the first level, standing before the elevator that looked uncannily like that at the NUS Co-op. I didn't know the guy who jumped, but his younger brother was there, sitting on the stone steps, rocking. I didn't know him either, but I approached him and asked him how he was doing. Which was a stupid thing to ask, I know, but I had to start somewhere.

He was disinclined to speak to me initially, but after some gentle prodding, he gave me his name. Strangely, I can still remember it. It was so distinct. Michael. Michael Tam. I don't know any Michaels - or any whom I'm remotely close to, at least - much less a Michael Tam. But what rocked me was the way he spoke to me. He was afraid to do anything, not even say a word, because he didn't know what else might happen if he did.

And today, I watched Mars. It turned out the guy's twin brother killed himself by jumping off the building.

I've been busy these few days.

Busy collecting ideas.

This might come as a shock, but I'm watching a Taiwanese drama series called Mars now. It stars Vic Zhou and Barbie Hsu (or however you spell their names). This sudden addiction to drama series was sparked by my sudden reminiscence that led me to watch Meteor Garden again. I remember how it was all the rage when I was about 11 or 12. Everyone watched it, or at least had heard of it. My friends and I were nuts about it, if only because it was so darn romantic. I know, what did we know about romance at the age of 11 or 12, right? But it's not like I'm any wiser about it now, at 19, so what the hell.

I'd intended to take a detached view this time round. I'd laugh at the cheesy lines and cringe-worthy acting. Honestly, I don't even know what made me decide to watch it. Maybe it's the drought that's come over the romantic genre. No romance novels, no romance TV shows. It is inherently a feminine desire, I suppose, to crave such ostensibly frivolous escapism.

So I watched it.

I did laugh at the cheesy lines. But what surprised me was how well-developed the characters were. As a writer - as well as an emotionally more matured person than I was at 11 (I hope) - it struck me immediately how special each character was. No two characters had the same personality, and each was conveyed through their actions and speech. There was subtlety in that, and I found myself drawn in by the show once again.

I remember how I rooted for Si (this arrogant a-hole who rules the school, along with his 3 other friends that forms the legendary F4) and the female protagonist, SC. But this time round, I found Lei (oh, Lei...) the more matured one, the more noble one, the more tenderhearted and long-suffering one.

Just after a few episodes of watching how Vic conveyed his character (I was more impressed by his acting skills than I'd originally expected), I slept on it and came up with a Shiny New Idea for a new story. I'd thought of a plot beforehand, that day when I went to the pier with my dad, but I was lacking in the character department. I had the conflict, and the setting, but the characters were still the stiff, two-dimensional stick figures I kept coming up with. This might be it. This might be the key to creating someone I had never dealt with before.

Oh, and I watched Meteor Garden 2 after finishing the first one. And can I just say that it really wasn't as good as the first. It was too draggy, and Si's amnesia was overly dragged out (spanning 15 episodes or so). Plus, they introduced this new girl (played by Michelle Saram) who was supposed to be Si's new love interest. Everyone protested vehemently then, and swore they would boycott the show if Si didn't end up with SC. So the producers had to change the scenes a little and let them end up together after all. Thank goodness. But that leaves my brokenhearted Lei all alone again. I actually cried several times while watching it, believe it or not. I don't usually cry over romance movies because I'm unable to relate to the situation or the characters, but Vic's acting and the storyline (where SC was left bereft because Si had fallen for someone else, after ALL that they've been through) was incredibly moving. So, yes. I am a sap. I am a woman, emotional and irrational. And now I need my fix of romantic narratives.

So I'm watching Mars now. It's a lot like the story I'm planning out now, about two damaged people who find the future in each other. Mars is about this bad boy motorbike racer who has a dark secret, and who falls in love with a shy, autistic girl. His twin committed suicide and his mother died when he was 5, and he's deeply traumatised by their deaths, so much so that he displays sudden violent tendencies and had been locked in a psych ward by his father before. So the story's about how the two of them make each other face their fears and dark pasts, and lean towards each other when their inner demons get the better of them. It's a lot more intense than Meteor Garden, obviously, but I prefer MG, because of the comic relief and the romance (oh, Lei...), though Mars is shaping up to be just as good.

I just have to post this excerpt from Sarah Dessen's blog (25 Sept '09):

This week, I went to do a little fall shopping for my daughter. She needed jeans, so I headed to Gap, because they were having a sale and keep sending me coupons. (How can I resist, I ask? How?) Anyway, I found a cute pair I liked and went to double check the size. Then I saw they were called ... Boyfriend Jeans. For a two year old? REALLY? I mean, I get it: there are also bootcut, and flare, and skinny (which is a whole other topic, don't even get me started on skinny jeans for toddlers). There's just something about the word BOYFRIEND being associated with my baby that is just plain weird. I pointed it out to the guy who was working the register. "I mean, she shouldn't HAVE a boyfriend at this age," I said. He agreed, and added, helpfully, "And if she did, she shouldn't be wearing his jeans." Amen, brother. Amen!

I just thought that was really funny. Also, thanks to the book prize I got from SA, I just bought my copy of Along for the Ride! It takes place in Colby, also the setting for Keeping the Moon, one of my favourites from her. Can't wait to read it. Lovelovelove Sarah Dessen.

Right now, I'm reading Dark Places, by Gillian Flynn, the author of the MULTI award-winning book, Sharp Objects. And can I just say that I am totally blown away? The writing style is gritty, as usual, and so much more compelling than her debut novel, which is saying a lot. It's about this girl, Libby Day, who testified that her older brother killed off her entire family, when she was 7 (I think). Right now, broke, she chances upon this Kill Club (a club where impassioned people come together and discuss a case and try to take matters into their own hands and get to the bottom of unsolved mysteries), which is willing to fund her revisitation of the crime. As the novel progresses, Libby finds that maybe her testimony was a mistake, after all.

The thing about this novel is that it's not just any old whodunit. It explores the dynamics of the Day family, and analyses what went wrong - is it the irresponsible, absent father who is a drunkard and gambler, or the weak mother who can't make decisions or makes bad ones and is always waiting for someone to save her and solve her problems? Or it is simply the fact that they're poor farmers who haven't seen enough food or money for years now? Is that why the kids, especially Ben (Libby's older brother) turned towards Devil-worship and became estranged from his family?

Plus, Gillian displays her writing chops by inserting chapters throughout the story in which the day on which the murder took place is told through a third-person narration of the characters (Ben, Patty - his mother, Runner - his father). Wow, that was a long-ass sentence. I apologise for that. What I mean is, chapter 1 - Libby (1st-person), chapter 2 - Ben (3rd-person), chapter 3 - Libby (1st-person), chapter 4 - Patty (3rd-person), etc. You get the idea. It's absolutely brilliant how Gillian was able to oscillate between these different forms of narratives. It takes A LOT of skill. You have to make sure the details tally, like what Libby learns NOW corresponds with what went down that day, 2 Jan 1985. Very skillful. And Libby's voice is consistent throughout the story - gritty, cynical, desensitised, although a vulnerable side peeks out at times.

My goodness. This woman is a genius. Thank you, wonderful writers like Gillian Flynn, Alice Hoffman and Sarah Dessen, for producing such top-rate literary works. Gillian's Sharp Objects won two Dagger Awards, and was a finalist for the Edgar Awards. Wow. For a DEBUT. Of course, she's probably written many more books before this and have a lot of unpublished manuscripts in her drawer. Still, her debut novel. Wow. Just wow. Go, you.

I'm in my Philosophy lecture now. The number of people turning up for lecture seems to be dwindling week by week. Well. Apart from one reason that I won't mention here, the other is that there's webcast for it, so that's probably why some people don't really see the need to turn up for it physically.

Anyway, I just had my Sociology of Pop Culture tutorial, where we discussed pop culture icons in representing gender and ethnicity. It was rewarding, to say the least. For our Sociology tutorial, we generally just sit in a classroom and then take turns proposing an idea each, with the tutor starting the ball rolling. He gave Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as a representation of Asian American masculine figures. Some others proposed the idea of a shift towards androgyny in fashion trends (eg, boyfriend blazers and jeans, etc), as well as a move towards curveless models. Someone else talked about Barbie dolls as a representation of the ideal female, with her Kelly doll, so she's seen as a mother figure, whereas Ken doll drives a car and looks cool and often isn't sold with the Kelly doll, so it seems as though he doesn't have any responsibilities. Which is a really cool way of looking at it. The whole Barbie, Ken and Kelly doll package also represents the traditional family with heterosexual parents. And lately, Barbie has been modified to look like a real woman, and other forms of Barbie have also been created to encompass other ethnicities.

I talked about Disney's princesses, like Jasmine and Snow White. There wasn't enough time to talk about Ariel, because I also talked about Victoria's Secret Angels. 'Angels' - deification of women by males in a male-driven industry (backstage crew is mostly comprised of males). The Angels pander to male fetishes, the male gaze, but also send out messages of female empowerment because they have curves (eg, Doutzen Kroes, one of my favourite models) and are tanned, toned and strong (eg, Alessandra Ambrosio). Lately, though, VS is moving towards skinnier models like Miranda Kerr (only like her face, but not her body, because it's so skinny I feel awkward for her when I look at her). I don't like this trend. VS models are the only models I like, because they look strong yet feminine. Why feature skinny minnies like Miranda Kerr when we already have (way too many) catalogue models like Chanel Iman and Kate Moss? So what does this all say about the male gaze? And the heightened female consciousness of that male gaze? Why are we so conscious of how we look, as compared to guys, who just pull on a polo shirt and berms and are so secure in their skin? Male ego is one thing, but I think women are still inherently dependent on men, so they still see having a soulmate as their ultimate goal for security in life. Males are more financially and physically independent, so they don't care for that as much as women do.

For Jasmine, she's one of the sexiest Disney princesses, and on YouTube, I see how guys slobber over her. So even if she's in her ethnic costume, her outfit is sexually suggestive. Plus, even though she fends off Jafar's advances throughout the show, she ends up using her feminine wiles to distract him so that Aladdin can save the day. She also, despite being Oriental, has Western ideas of freedom and Aladdin is therefore the person who represents adventure and escapism, and she ends up running off with him and ignores her father's wishes of arranged marriage.

Snow White is constantly pining for her damn prince, wishing he'd sweep her off in his white horse and save her. She does end up being saved by him too, as does Sleeping Beauty, so does that suggest that women are the weaker sex and can only be saved ultimately by men? Plus, Snow White offers to do the domestic chores for the 7 short little men so that she can stay with them, because them 7 little guys, being guys, are portrayed as being unable to clean up after themselves and shouldn't be bothered with it, since the male duty is to go out and work (in the mines, in the dwarves' case) and then come home and have dinner ready for them. And her beauty, demureness and domesticity even wins over Grumpy.

And then someone else talked about magazines like Cleo and 17, and how it defined the feminine identity, etc etc. And someone else mentioned gay culture and pointed out how it's not so in the closet anymore, and how butches in girls' schools are idolised, while effeminate guys get their asses kicked in boys' schools as the ass-kickers assert their masculinity, etc etc. Other magazine examples include T3, some cars and girls magazines for guys. Someone said the girls have absolutely nothing to do for the cars, but the tutor suggested the power of the cars is translated into a (phallic) power to attain the girls. Okay, so there is a link after all, if you put it that way. Objectification of women is still a prevalent practice now - jeez, guys.

And then there was the James Bond example, where the women are given horribly degrading names like Octopussy (my lips curl in disgust). But a reversal of roles is observed, when Halle Berry in Die Another Day was the one in a bikini (or, as Ris Low says, 'bigini') coming out of the water, it is now Daniel Craig coming out of the water in his tighties in Casino Royale.

Sex and the City was mentioned too, as was Desperate Housewives, and it was pointed out how that triggered and fuelled the trend of 'cougarism'. Sarah Jessica Parker's character, Carrie Bradshaw, was the one who dreamt about marrying Mr Big - thereby reinforcing the idea of marriage as something that completes a woman, as the ultimate goal that women should strive towards - while Kim Cattrall's character, Samantha Jones, was the cougar who spied on her neighbour changing. Desperate Housewives promotes promiscuity, because of the proliferate affairs - clandestine or otherwise so - throughout the show.

And then we moved on to talking about the representation of women by the media. There were only 4 guys in our class, so it sort of felt like a women's book group when we talked about the model issue and how they are becoming skinnier, etc. While curves were celebrated in the past (see Brigitte Bardot, Marilyn Monroe, etc), thin is in now, as seen by examples like Chanel Iman (go google her if you don't know who she is), Jessica Stam and Agyness Deyn. I like Doutzen Kroes because she's got an angelic face, but womanly curves. Her beauty is breath-taking. Oh, and am I the only who thinks she kinda resembles Carolyn Murphy?

We talked about a lot more, like Buffy and Grey's Anatomy, The OC, Gossip Girl, Britney Spears and Madonna, etc. It's so cool how we get to talk about that and analyse all these pop culture icons for school.

Posted by Rachelle Gardner, literary agent, on Tuesday, September 22, 2009:

Chasing Your Dreams

Over the weekend when I was at the conference, my ten-year-old had a gymnastics meet which I was bummed to miss, but Brian texted me her scores on each event, and he took video so I could see her performances. (I put one on YouTube.)

Now, if you watch my daughter doing gymnastics, you might not think it looks like anything special, particularly if the only gymnastics you've ever seen is in the Olympics. (Just like Little League baseball doesn't look like much when you're used to watching the Colorado Rockies.) She's been quite successful competing and has won 1st place in several competitions, but there's a good chance she's average for her age and competition level. Nevertheless, she has Olympic dreams. She's as passionate about gymnastics as I've ever been about anything in my life. She loves it and she's driven and I'm not about to discourage her.

Part of me wishes I could give her some perspective, encourage her to dream more realistically. I don't want her to base her whole life on a dream that has little chance of coming true. Yet, aren't we supposed to dream big?

I would never say anything to make her think I don't believe in her. If the Olympics aren't in the cards, that's for her to discover, not for me to predict. And if my daughter eventually has to deal with disappointment, then who am I to deprive her of that crucial and character-building process? Only she can figure out how to handle it. Only she can decide what new dream will replace the old one.

She works very hard, practices diligently and has excellent coaching. But there's an element to gymastics that can't be taught, some magical inborn talent that you either have, or you don't. It's the magic fairy dust factor. I'm not sure whether my daughter has it or not; I suspect she has at least a little, but I don't know how far it will carry her. No matter how hard she works, to some extent her success is at least partially determined by what she was born with.

So that's the way I see writing. Lots of people can do it; many are passionate and driven. Many have big dreams. Some may not work hard enough; some may not have the magic fairy dust to carry them as far as they'd like. But I don't want to discourage people. I want to keep encouraging, keep cheering people on in their writing dreams.

Regardless of whether all your dreams will come true, this is your process. It's your life. Whether it brings you joy or pain or the more likely combination of both, still, it's yours. If you go through disappointment, I hope you will grow from it. If you experience heartbreak, I pray you'll heal and be stronger. If you have triumphs and success, I hope it brings you the satisfaction you crave.

Whatever happens, however this journey goes for you, be assured you're not on the wrong path if you are pursuing a passion and willing to work hard. Go for it. It's all yours.

I've just finished reading The Secret Life of Prince Charming, by the ever-talented Deb Caletti, the author of Wild Roses and Honey, Baby, Sweetheart. My library card was full, but this nice lady (a mother, who was borrowing books for her pre-schooler) allowed me to use hers.

And as usual, Deb did not disappoint. My favourite is still Wild Roses - her best yet - but Prince is pretty good too. It's about this girl called Quinn, who grew up in a house full of ladies who have had their hearts broken by men - her mom, her aunt Annie, her grandma. They warn her against men, but she refuses to start getting cynical about love at the age of 17. She and her younger sister Sprout have just reunited with their father 3 years ago and are starting to know him. Quinn is hopeful, eager to find a bond with her father, and in awe of him, the performer (part of a circus band called the Jafarabad Brothers, or something like that). Sprout, however, is loyal to their mother and distrustful of their father. She's frustrated that Quinn can't see their father for the egotistical jerk he is. He loves no-one but himself.

When one day, Quinn finds a room full of prized items that she discovers were stolen from the women in her father's life, she decides to hunt down her half-sister, Frances Lee, who persuades her to go on a karmic quest to return those items to their rightful owners.

Along the way, Quinn meets Jake Kennedy, Frances Lee's younger brother (who's the same age as Quinn). And can I just say that he's the latest fictional character I've fallen in love with. He looks like a bad boy, with the serpent tattoo on his arm and those smouldering good looks (of course, Deb didn't use this expression to describe him - how cliched would that be?). But he once said to Quinn, "You're not the only one looking for something true." He's a sensitive soul who's had his heart broken before and just wants to find a love that is true and pure and simple. This is reminiscent of Cassie Morgan and Ian Water's love in Wild Roses. It's so heartbreakingly pure and uncomplicated - only Deb can create a love story like that. Plus, the guys aren't sappy. They're tender but they're not clingy or mushy; they joke around like Michael Moscovitz and have no underlying motives. They're so pure of heart it's almost impossible. But what is fiction but delightful escapism sometimes, eh?

Throughout the story, there are excerpts from the women in Quinn's father's lives, who reveal the loves - good and bad - they had in their lives. Once again, Deb Caletti has delivered a poignant, lighthearted gem of a story.


Right now, I'm on page 75 of The Story Sisters, the latest book by Alice Hoffman (yes, the Alice Hoffman who went nuts because some book critics didn't deliver such nice comments about her book - suprisingly unprofessional of her). Hoffman's writing style is almost one of a kind. I've read Practical Magic before, and it's like she's in a world of her own. In a good way. There's a heavy use of natural imagery, almost magical and detached from the real world, even though her stories do take place in our world. There's a sort of ethereal, otherworldly quality to her books. This is an exerpt from The Story Sisters:

The town was thick with Virginia creeper, wisteria, weeds that suddenly grew three feet tall. It had been that kind of summer. There were thunderstorms and hail. The news reported a strange rain of live frogs one wet, humid night. Children ran out with mayonnaise jars to capture them the way they used to catch fireflies. The air felt electric, sultry; it pressed down on you and made you want to sleep, turn away from your troubles, tell yourself lies.

Practical Magic, as you know, had been made into a movie starring Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock. It's about these two sisters brought up by their aunts who practice witchcraft. Nicole played Gillian, the rebel, while Sandra played Sally, the sensible one who lost her first and only love (her husband) in a magical accident. There isn't much of a plot in the story. The interesting part where they're trying to hide their practice from a cop (who eventually falls in love with Sally) wasn't expounded upon. But the captivating, enchanting way in which Hoffman creates her prose compensates for that.

For The Story Sisters, however, there are both plot and good writing - a tremendously lethal combination. The main characters are the three sisters, Elv (16), Meg and Claire (12), but Elv steals the show, so to speak. She's the one who created an Otherworld called Arnelle, and even came up with the language Arnish. Arnelle exists underground, resided by faeries, goblins and the Queen who is looking for a successor to the throne. Elv used to entertain the girls in her school, as well as her sisters, with these stories. But soon, after getting kidnapped on an outing with Claire one day, something changes in her. She falls deeper into this world she has created, and becomes more detached from the real world. She experiments with sex, drugs and the like, gets herself tattooed, cuts herself and sneaks out every night in search of experiences that will prove herself to the Queen that she is a worthy successor.

While Claire completely looks up to Elv, and wants nothing more than to be like her, Meg grows apart from her eldest sister and into a life of normalcy, of French club meetings and college catalogs, school newspapers and painting lessons. Ever since that incident where Elv and Claire set loose a horse in the park (those that people pay to ride around), which eventually got shot because it was causing lots of chaos, with Claire on its back. Claire broke both of her arms and the horse died, but Elv thinks she saved it. She believes it has gone to a better place, to Arnelle, where she imagines she would see him once she finds out how to cross over to the other side.

I know, it's really messed up. It's like she has schizophrenia, detached from reality, delusions of grandeur. The works. But it's so disturbing it's alluring. If I wasn't all that impressed by Hoffman's talent in Practical Magic, I definitely am now.

Joyce's List of Fictional Characters She's Fallen in Love With:

1. Michael Moscovitz (the Princess Diaries series, by Meg Cabot, duh)
2. Edward Cullen (the Twilight series by Steph Meyer, duh)
3. Rob Wilkins (1800-where-r-you series, by Meg Cabot writing as Jenny Carroll)
4. Luke Brandon (the Shopaholic series, by Sophie Kinsella)
5. Ian Waters (Wild Roses, by Deb Caletti)
6. Wes (The Truth About Forever, by Sarah Dessen)
7. Marcus Flutie (the Jessica Darling series, by Megan McCafferty - I'm DYING to read Perfect Fifths, but I can't seem to find it!!! It's killing me!)
8. Shrimp (the Gingerbread series, by Rachel Cohn)
9. Raoul (Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux)
10. Jesse (the Mediator series, by Meg Cabot writing as Jenny Carroll)
11. Jacob Black (the Twilight series - he's not the male lead, though; I just like his character, but I'm not really swooooooning over him)

I just realised I seem to fall in love mostly with guys from book series.

Personal life

Mia's friends include best friend Lilly Moscovitz, Tina Hakim Baba, Shameeka Taylor, Perin and Ling Su Wong. Lilly is seen as an overly critical person, who although probably wants what's best for Mia, is always getting into arguments with her.

Love interests throughout the books have been Josh Richter, Kenny Showalter, Michael Moscovitz (Lilly's brother) and J.P.(John Paul Reynolds Abernathy IV) who was only a friend, until he proclaims his love for Mia.

1. Josh Richter was definitely a mistake. He only wanted publicity for himself.

2. Kenny Showalter was Mia's biology lab partner. Apparently he developed a liking for her while watching her copy his homework. Mia had hoped that her secret admirer was Michael Moscovitz, though it was really Kenny the whole time.

3. J.P., also known as The Guy Who hates it when They Put Corn In The Chilli, was madly in love (or so he says) with Mia. In the tenth book, it turns out, he was just using Mia as publicity for his play.

(And ... drumroll, please.)

4. Michael was Mia's main boyfriend in almost all the books. He is the only guy who actually loves Mia for who she is and not because she is royal. Getting together with him at a formal in the book "Princess in Love", making the mistake of breaking up with him in "Princess on the Brink". Though, in the last book, on prom night, Michael and Mia get back together, have sex and are still currently dating.

~ Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mia_Thermopolis

Oh, wait! I forgot to mention something.

Apparently, Mia and Lana Weinberger (yes, THE Lana Weinberger, snotty spoilt cheerleader who used to make Mia's life hell) are now friends. Close, almost-best friends. What an odd twist of circumstance.