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A foreword of a book on mass media laws and regulations

Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION:

Syed Sajjad Ali Shah, Former Chief Justice of Pakistan said in a foreword of a book on Mass Media Laws and Regulations in Pakistan that:

“All over the world, the citizens’ right to acquire knowledge and information is increasingly being proclaimed and recognized as a fundamental right. The international human rights instruments as well as national constitutions and laws, acknowledge and safeguard this right”

WHAT IS ELECTRONIC MEDIA?

Any channel of communication which serves different functions such as a wide range of entertainment or mass appeal and communicating news and information and advertisement messages through electronic medium is called Electronic media.

The duty of media is to communicate massages from advertiser or vendors and serves it as a product or services to the consumer. Types of media include print, electronic, outdoor and direct mail. Print media refers to magazine and news paper where as electronic media are usually referred as broadcast media that are radio and television including cable.

BACKGROUND OF ELECTRONIC MEDIA IN PAKISTAN AND UK:

In 1964 Television was first introduced in Pakistan. The only channel at that time was Pakistan Television (PTV) that lasts just for few hours everyday from evening till midnight to the viewers. The Channel introduced as a corporation of the state, where the government of Pakistan appointed its board of directors. The managing director was also appointed by the Government of Pakistan but with the approval of the boards.

The Early channel includes STN, which was awarded by monopolistic contract with a private company called Network Television Market (NTM).

In 1990 PTV was stroked by the financial mismanagement that causes a vast amount of debt and because of Hindi channels the rapidly reducing popularity among the viewers also reduced their advertising revenue.

Pakistan Electronic Media is now regulated by Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority (PEMRA). It was established under PEMRA ordinance of 2002. The same month after establishment PEMRA issued 29 Radio licences for new private radio stations.

The duty of this authority is to regulate and facilitate the private electronic media, and to improve the standards of information, education and entertainment and to expand the choice for the people of Pakistan including current affairs, news, religious knowledge, arts and culture and as well as science and technology.

Where as in 1932 right before 32 years when television was first launched in Pakistan, BBC launched the first television channel in UK called “THE BBC TELEVISION SERVICE.” The BBC was sponsored by the public money build up from a TV licence fee collected from all UK households who had a television set. This fee was mandatory for all; failure to pay the fee was punishable by prosecution causing a fine or imprisonment. Until ITV was launched in 1955 BBC television service had a complete monopoly in UK.

ABSTRACT:

Training and development come under the umbrella of human resource management. This research will help analyse the current frameworks by human resource executives to improve training and development within Pakistan media industry and as well as look at the barriers facing by human resource department over the coming year and techniques for overcoming them.

This research is a comparative study of training and development strategies in UK and Pakistan media Industry. With the purpose to look into the topic, I will compare and relate the techniques of UK media Industry with Pakistan media industry as how UK media industry deals with such kind of situations.

AIMS AND OBJECTIVES

Training and development refers to pass on or to enhance the specific knowledge and skills of an employee. Training and development is essential to advance the current and future performance of the employee by boosting the ability of an employee to perform better through learning and training.

Training usually offers to the operatives on the other hand development programmes are for the employees on upper level or positions.

The Primary aim of training and development is to help the organisation reach its goal by increasing value to its key resources that is the employee of the organization. By training the employee we can enable them to perform well and to empower them to make the best use of their natural abilities.

The Basic aims of training and development are:

It develops the ability of the employee and advances their performance.

It helps to meet the organization with the future needs of human resource by help the staff to grow within the organization.

And it also reduces the learning time for the employees and make sure that they become completely proficient as quickly and economically as possible.

It has been seen that most of the researchers mainly focused their investigation on the role and responsibilities, role conflict and role ambiguity and some extent on the training and development programme, but this piece of research reflects the study of how training advance the level of understanding of the employee to their job and also how it helps in their career development.

The main objective of the research is to look in to the developments in this important field of human resources particularly in electronic media industry in United Kingdom and Pakistan. Further to this we also look in to the organisations working without training and development department in some organisations.

RESEARCH OVERVIEW:

The goal of my research is to find out that how training and development can help improve the knowledge and skills of the employee within the organization especially in Pakistan electronic media by comparing it with the UK electronic industry mainly focus on the broadcasting media.

The first chapter of my research will help to introduce the analysis of the study and also why it is useful to investigate further into this topic. The aim and objectives of the research study are also included in this chapter.

Chapter two highlight the critical review of literature. The literature review will be divided into two major parts

(1) Organizational theories

(2) Training and Development.

Chapter Three will cover up the research methodologies used for the research area.

Chapter four will examine the data collection and analyse the types of information of the collected data.

The Fifth Chapter will conclude the research and will suggest some advice and emphasize the limitations of the study.

CHAPTER 2

LITERATURE REVIEW:

A critical and in depth evaluation of a previous research is called Literature Review. It examines a wide range of literature concerned with the employee motivation which has major importance for organizational matters such as Training and development.

The themes provided the framework based on:

1. Organisational theory which relates to employee in an organization

2. To designed the development strategies to reward and distinguish the employee input in television channels.

We will look in this research how these set of organisational theories and approaches relate to understand the topic of research.

ORGANIZATIONAL THEORIES:

Dugan the famous Author said in 1985 that “training and development is alive and well and growing. In fact, it has grown to be a part of a much larger arena.”

There are so many approaches to training and development by so many authors my research will mainly focus on the Classical Approach, The human relation approach, and the contingency theory.

I will give a brief introduction of all of these theories in my research.

THE CLASSICAL APPROACH:

The Standard model to the organizational plan and management in the classical approach were based on the assumed basic numbers, which are written below.

To be operated and structured there is at least one best approach for all the organizations.

Classical approach was based on the legal managerial power and rule of law.

We know financial reward is the best way to motivate employee to work and we will also examine what are other ways of motivating employee and get their maximum use.

THE HUMAN RELATION APPROACH:

The Third step in the development of modern management was the advancement in the attention to the human factors which has become known as the “Human Relation School of management.”

It was introduced in 1930s as a response to the negative view of human nature suggested by the classical approach and against the mechanistic view of organization.

Human Relation approach talks about the emotional behaviour of the people that people are more emotional rather than economical rational beings, where as organizations are cooperative social systems rather than mechanical ones; and also that organizations are composed of informal structure, and rules as well as formal procedures and practices.

CONTINGENCY THEORY:

This theory was first come in to view in the 1960s as a rejection of the “One best way” approach. There are many types of the contingency theory. It is a set of behavioural theory that argues that there is no one best way of organising or leading and the leadership approach to one situation is not necessarily suitable to others.

The Four most important suggestions of Contingency theory are:

• There is no one best way to manage the organization.

•The plan and aim of the organization should be according to the environment.

•Effective organizations not only plan according to the environment but also fit between its subsystems.

•The organization should be properly designed and the management style should be suitable both to the tasks and the nature of the work group if the organization wants to satisfy its needs and requirements.

ROLE OF TRAINING AND DEVELOPMENT

According to Casse and Banahan (2007), “the different approaches to training and development need to be explored.”

Training in an organization is mainly consisting of two parts:

1- Internal Training

2- External Training

INTERNAL TRAINING:

Internal training means a training session organised within the house by human resource department or giving training to a particular department by a senior staff or talented employee as a resource person.

EXTERNAL TRAINING:

The training which is arranged outside the organization by training institutes and consultants are called external training. Both the trainings are very essential as it helps preparing staff for greater challenges.

THEORITICAL CONCEPT OF TRAINING:

When the planning of a learning programme become a major concern, the theoretical concept of training becomes more significant. It helps determining the area where there is a space for further improvement and the training is required to achieve the goal. For any organization it is important to design the objectives and framework of training to achieve its corporate goal.

There are countless theoretical concepts I will include few of them in my dissertation to make it clear to understand the objective of my research. I will try to briefly explain those concepts in my research proposal.

Systematic training cycle is a stage based activity which begins with Training Needs Analysis (TNA)

Jill Bowman & John P. Wilson, (2008)

Jill Bowman & John P. Wilson, (2008) point out two definitions regarding (TNA)

• “Analysing training needs provides a focus and direction for the investment an organization has to make in its people”.

• Need for training exists in organizations when particular weaknesses need to me overcome by the application of systematic training. Therefore, before commencement of actual training session, it is very important to identify the training needs first.

Jill Bowman & John P. Wilson, (2008)

The systematic training cycle has three stages.

1- Training Design

2- Training Delivery

3- Evaluation

Any training programme in an organization has to be designed first once it is designed it needs to be implemented. Implementation is overwhelmed with certain problems such as managers at the first place are more action oriented but suddenly they get busy to engage in the training efforts. Secondly availability of the trainer who also knows the philosophy and objective of the company is difficult. And also scheduling the training programme around the present work is another problem.

The final stage of the training and development programme is the evaluation of the programme. Evaluation of the programme helps determine the result.

These set of classic theories and approaches will make the research topic more clearly for readers and how these relate to each other in media industry.

CHAPTER 3

RESEARCH METHODOLOGY.

The core task for any researcher to complete its research is to analyze the problem and to select that which research methodology to follow. It is a challenging endeavour and causes difficulties if the most suitable methodology is not selected.

TYPES OF RESEARCH:

1- Primary Research

2- Secondary Research

3- Qualitative Research

4- Quantitative Research

PRIMARY RESEARCH:

In Primary research a researcher collects the data which doesn’t really exist. It can be done through surveys, questionnaire, interviews and observations.

SECONDARY RESEARCH:

Secondary research is to examining the existing data, it may be the mixture of information acquire by different authors and scholars and a summary or collation.

QUALITATIVE RESEARCH:

Qualitative research tries to find out the “WHY” not “HOW”. It is about investigating the issues, answering the questions and understanding phenomena.

The main methods uses in this research are observation, interviews and documentary analysis.

It seeks to explore people’s attitudes, behaviours, value system, and lifestyles. It also focuses groups, in depth interviews like many other approaches but qualitative research also involves the analysis of any unstructured material including customer’s feedback forms, reports or media clips.

QUANTITATIVE RESEARCH:

Quantitative research technique enumerates the data by applying different mathematical and statistical methods. Quantitative research includes surveys and customers questionnaires.

It is about knowing the opinion of the people in a way so you can produce an appropriate fact and statistic to guide you in making decision for future.

You can only get the reliable statistical result by surveying people in a fairly large numbers and also ensure they are representative sample of your target market.

CHAPTER 4

DATA ANALYSIS:

At first the data may appear to be a mass of confusing, unrelated, accounts. But by

Studying and coding (often I code the same materials several times just after Collecting them), the researcher begins to create order (Charmaz, 1983: 114)

In Data Analysis researcher gathers a raw data and organize it so that useful information can be extracted from it. Raw data can be in variety of types including measurements, surveys, and observations. In data analysis process, the raw data organised in a way which will be useful. For Example, The result of surveys may b tallied so that we can see that how many people answer to the surveys and how they response to the questions.

Data Analysis is an important step of the research process. The aim of data analysis is to define the qualitative and quantitative data that provides learner to develop knowledge and skills in data analysis. It also supports the development of critical appraisal skills by considering the critical review.

COLLECTION AND ANALYSIS:

In this stage I will try to analyze the primary data which I will collect from different television channels. I will try to collect data from BBC and Pakistan television channels including GEO TV Network, Express News and AAJ TV. I will also do the surveys and make the questionnaire for the employee working in electronic media industry and also a separate interview questions for HR experts associated with the industry. I will also analyze the data and the information collected through surveys by focusing on the objective of my research and will try to analyse them in a very systematic way, it is very important as it will help me to draw a valid conclusion and clarify the aim and objectives of my research.

TIME LINE FOR DISSERTATION:

A dissertation is an extensive piece of academic writing. The timeline make sure that every step is completed at a given time. For successful achievement of a dissertation there has to be a time line.

Month 1 Month 2 Month 3

TASKS

Preliminary Research

Define research questions/objectives

Work on methodology and finish rough drafts of methodology

Library Work

Preparing Questionnaires, and survey questions

Refine Dissertation Methodology

Write literature review

Write Introduction

Research paper writing

References and Bibliography

Polish format of research proposal

CHAPTER 5

CONCLUSION:

This research adds value in quite a lot of ways; firstly it contributes a better understanding on some vital attributes of Training and Development specifically in Pakistan and UK electronic media Industry. Secondly it provides insight the attitude and behaviour of an employee in the organization and why they need training.

The aim of this study is to investigate the role of training in the efficiency of an employee, in how the training gives confidence to perform there desire task in their routine work.

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Free Essays

The Twilight Saga 5: Midnight Sun 2. Open Book

I leaned back against the soft snow bank, letting the dry powder reshape itself around my weight. My skin had cooled to match the air around me, and the tiny pieces of ice felt like velvet under my skin.

The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black universe – an awesome sight. Exquisitely beautiful. Or rather, it should have been exquisite.

Would have been, if I’d been able to really see it.

It wasn’t getting any better. Six days had passed, six days I’d hidden here in the empty Denali wilderness, but I was no closer to freedom than I had been since the first moment that I’d caught her scent.

When I stared up at the jeweled sky, it was as if there were an obstruction between my eyes and their beauty. The obstruction was a face, just an unremarkable human face, but I couldn’t quite seem to banish it from my mind.

I heard the approaching thoughts before I heard the footsteps that accompanied them. The sound of movement was only a faint whisper against the powder.

I was not surprised that Tanya had followed me here. I knew she’d been mulling over this coming conversation for the last few days, putting it off until she was sure of exactly what she wanted to say.

She sprang into sight about sixty yards away, leaping onto the tip of an outcropping of black rock and balancing there on the balls of her bare feet.

Tanya’s skin was silver in the starlight, and her long blond curls shone pale, almost pink with their strawberry tint. Her amber eyes glinted as she spied me, halfburied in the snow, and her full lips stretched slowly into a smile.

Exquisite. If I’d really been able to see her. I sighed.

She crouched down on the point of the stone, her fingertips touching the rock, her body coiled.

Cannonball, she thought.

She launched herself into the air; her shape became a dark, twisting shadow as she spun gracefully between me and the stars. She curled herself into a ball just as she struck the piled snow bank beside me.

A blizzard of snow flew up around me. The stars went black and I was buried deep in the feathery ice crystals.

I sighed again, but didn’t move to unearth myself. The blackness under the snow neither hurt nor improved the view. I still saw the same face.

“Edward?”

Then snow was flying again as Tanya swiftly disinterred me. She brushed the powder from my unmoving face, not quite meeting my eyes.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “It was a joke.”

“I know. It was funny.”

Her mouth twisted down.

“Irina and Kate said I should leave you alone. They think I’m annoying you.” “Not at all,” I assured her. “On the contrary, I’m the one who’s being rude – abominably rude. I’m very sorry.”

You’re going home, aren’t you? she thought.

“I haven’t…entirely…decided that yet.”

But you’re not staying here. Her thought was wistful now, sad.

“No. It doesn’t seem to be…helping.”

She grimaced. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“Of course not,” I lied smoothly.

Don’t be a gentleman.

I smiled.

I make you uncomfortable, she accused.

“No.”

She raised one eyebrow, her expression so disbelieving that I had to laugh. One short laugh, followed by another sigh.

“All right,” I admitted. “A little bit.”

She sighed, too, and put her chin in her hands. Her thoughts were chagrined.

“You’re a thousand times lovelier than the stars, Tanya. Of course, you’re already well aware of that. Don’t let my stubbornness undermine your confidence.” I chuckled at the unlikeliness of that.

“I’m not used to rejection,” she grumbled, her lower lip pushing out into an attractive pout.

“Certainly not,” I agreed, trying with little success to block out her thoughts as she fleetingly sifted through memories of her thousands of successful conquests. Mostly Tanya preferred human men – they were much more populous for one thing, with the added advantage of being soft and warm. And always eager, definitely.

“Succubus,” I teased, hoping to interrupt the images flickering in her head. She grinned, flashing her teeth. “The original.”

Unlike Carlisle, Tanya and her sisters had discovered their consciences slowly. In the end, it was their fondness for human men that turned the sisters against the slaughter. Now the men they loved…lived.

“When you showed up here,” Tanya said slowly. “I thought that…” I’d known what she’d thought. And I should have guessed that she would have felt that way. But I hadn’t been at my best for analytical thinking in that moment.

“You thought that I’d changed my mind.”

“Yes.” She scowled.

“I feel horrible for toying with your expectations, Tanya. I didn’t mean to – I wasn’t thinking. It’s just that I left in…quite a hurry.”

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me why…?”

I sat up and wrapped my arms around my legs, curling defensively. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tanya, Irina and Kate were very good at this life they’d committed to. Better, in some ways, than even Carlisle. Despite the insanely close proximity they allowed themselves with those who should be – and once were – their prey, they did not make mistakes. I was too ashamed to admit my weakness to Tanya.

“Woman troubles?” she guessed, ignoring my reluctance.

I laughed a bleak laugh. “Not the way you mean it.”

She was quiet then. I listened to her thoughts as she ran through different guesses, tried to decipher the meaning of my words.

“You’re not even close,” I told her.

“One hint?” she asked.

“Please let it go, Tanya.”

She was quiet again, still speculating. I ignored her, trying in vain to appreciate the stars.

She gave up after a silent moment, and her thoughts pursued a new direction.

Where will you go, Edward, if you leave? Back to Carlisle?

“I don’t think so,” I whispered.

Where would I go? I could not think of one place on the entire planet that held any interest for me. There was nothing I wanted to see or do. Because, no matter where I went, I would not be going to anywhere – I would only be running from.

I hated that. When had I become such a coward?

Tanya threw her slender arm around my shoulders. I stiffened, but did not flinch out from under her touch. She meant it as nothing more than friendly comfort. Mostly. “I think that you will go back,” she said, her voice taking on just a hint of her long lost Russian accent. “No matter what it is…or who it is…that is haunting you. You’ll face it head on. You’re the type.”

Her thoughts were as certain as her words. I tried to embrace the vision of myself that she carried in her head. The one who faced things head on. It was pleasant to think of myself that way again. I’d never doubted my courage, my ability to face difficulty, before that horrible hour in a high school biology class such a short time ago.

I kissed her cheek, pulling back swiftly when she twisted her face toward mine, her lips already puckered. She smiled ruefully at my quickness.

“Thank you, Tanya. I needed to hear that.”

Her thoughts turned petulant. “You’re welcome, I guess. I wish you would be more reasonable about things, Edward.”

“I’m sorry, Tanya. You know you’re too good for me. I just…haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.”

“Well, if you leave before I see you again…goodbye, Edward.”

“Goodbye, Tanya.” As I said the words, I could see it. I could see myself leaving. Being strong enough to go back to the one place where I wanted to be. “Thanks again.”

She was on her feet in one nimble move, and then she was running away, ghosting across the snow so quickly that her feet had no time to sink into the snow; she left no prints behind her. She didn’t look back. My rejection bothered her more than she’d let on before, even in her thoughts. She wouldn’t want to see me again before I left.

My mouth twisted with chagrin. I didn’t like hurting Tanya, though her feelings were not deep, hardly pure, and, in any case, not something I could return. It still made me feel less than a gentleman.

I put my chin on my knees and stared up at the stars again, though I was suddenly anxious to be on my way. I knew that Alice would see me coming home, that she would tell the others. This would make them happy – Carlisle and Esme especially. But I gazed at the stars for one more moment, trying to see past the face in my head. Between me and the brilliant lights in the sky, a pair of bewildered chocolate-brown eyes stared back at me, seeming to ask what this decision would mean for her. Of course, I couldn’t be sure if that was really the information her curious eyes sought. Even in my imagination, I couldn’t hear her thoughts. Bella Swan’s eyes continued to question, and an unobstructed view of the stars continued to elude me. With a heavy sigh, I gave up, and got to my feet. If I ran, I would be back to Carlisle’s car in less than an hour…

In a hurry to see my family – and wanting very much to be the Edward that faced things head on – I raced across the starlit snowfield, leaving no footprints.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alice breathed. Her eyes were unfocused, and Jasper had one hand lightly under her elbow, guiding her forward as we walked into the rundown cafeteria in a close group. Rosalie and Emmett led the way, Emmett looking ridiculously like a bodyguard in the middle of hostile territory. Rose looked wary, too, but much more irritated than protective.

“Of course it is,” I grumbled. Their behavior was ludicrous. If I wasn’t positive that I could handle this moment, I would have stayed home.

The sudden shift from our normal, even playful morning – it had snowed in the night, and Emmett and Jasper were not above taking advantage of my distraction to bombard me with slushballs; when they got bored with my lack of response, they’d turned on each other – to this overdone vigilance would have been comical if it weren’t so irritating.

“She’s not here yet, but the way she’s going to come in…she won’t be downwind if we sit in our regular spot.”

“Of course we’ll sit in our regular spot. Stop it, Alice. You’re getting on my nerves. I’ll be absolutely fine.”

She blinked once as Jasper helped her into her seat, and her eyes finally focused on my face.

“Hmm,” she said, sounding surprised. “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” I muttered.

I hated being the focus of their concern. I felt a sudden sympathy for Jasper, remembering all the times we’d hovered protectively over him. He met my glance briefly, and grinned.

Annoying, isn’t it?

I grimaced at him.

Was it just last week that this long, drab room had seemed so killingly dull to me? That it had seemed almost like sleep, like a coma, to be here?

Today my nerves were stretched tight – piano wires, tensed to sing at the lightest pressure. My senses were hyper-alert; I scanned every sound, every sight, every movement of the air that touched my skin, every thought. Especially the thoughts. There was only one sense that I kept locked down, refused to use. Smell, of course. I didn’t breathe.

I was expecting to hear more about the Cullens in the thoughts that I sifted through. All day I’d been waiting, searching for whichever new acquaintance Bella Swan might have confided in, trying to see the direction the new gossip would take. But there was nothing. No one noticed the five vampires in the cafeteria, just the same as before the new girl had come. Several of the humans here were still thinking of that girl, still thinking the same thoughts from last week. Instead of finding this unutterably boring, I was now fascinated.

Had she said nothing to anyone about me?

There was no way that she had not noticed my black, murderous glare. I had seen her react to it. Surely, I’d scared her silly. I had been convinced that she would have mentioned it to someone, maybe even exaggerated the story a bit to make it better. Given me a few menacing lines.

And then, she’d also heard me trying to get out of our shared biology class. She must have wondered, after seeing my expression, whether she were the cause. A normal girl would have asked around, compared her experience to others, looked for common ground that would explain my behavior so she didn’t feel singled out. Humans were constantly desperate to feel normal, to fit in. To blend in with everyone else around them, like a featureless flock of sheep. The need was particularly strong during the insecure adolescent years. This girl would be no exception to that rule.

But no one at all took any notice of us sitting here, at our normal table. Bella must be exceptionally shy, if she’d confided in no one. Perhaps she had spoken to her father, maybe that was the strongest relationship…though that seemed unlikely, given the fact that she had spent so little time with him throughout her life. She would be closer to her mother. Still, I would have to pass by Chief Swan sometime soon and listen to what he was thinking.

“Anything new?” Jasper asked.

“Nothing. She…must not have said anything.”

All of them raised an eyebrow at this news.

“Maybe you’re not as scary as you think you are,” Emmett said, chuckling. “I bet I could have frightened her better than that.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Wonder why…?” He puzzled again over my revelation about the girl’s unique silence.

“We’ve been over that. I don’t know.”

“She’s coming in,” Alice murmured then. I felt my body go rigid. “Try to look human.”

“Human, you say?” Emmett asked.

He held up his right fist, twisting his fingers to reveal the snowball he’d saved in his palm. Of course it had not melted there. He’d squeezed it into a lumpy block of ice. He had his eyes on Jasper, but I saw the direction of his thoughts. So did Alice, of course. When he abruptly hurled the ice chunk at her, she flicked it away with a casual flutter of her fingers. The ice ricocheted across the length of the cafeteria, too fast to be visible to human eyes, and shattered with a sharp crack against the brick wall. The brick cracked, too.

The heads in that corner of the room all turned to stare at the pile of broken ice on the floor, and then swiveled to find the culprit. They didn’t look further than a few tables away. No one looked at us.

“Very human, Emmett,” Rosalie said scathingly. “Why don’t you punch through the wall while you’re at it?”

“It would look more impressive if you did it, baby.”

I tried to pay attention to them, keeping a grin fixed on my face like I was part of their banter. I did not allow myself to look toward the line where I knew she was standing. But that was all that I was listening to.

I could hear Jessica’s impatience with the new girl, who seemed to be distracted, too, standing motionless in the moving line. I saw, in Jessica’s thoughts, that Bella Swan’s cheeks were once more colored bright pink with blood.

I pulled in short, shallow breaths, ready to quit breathing if any hint of her scent touched the air near me.

Mike Newton was with the two girls. I heard both his voices, mental and verbal, when he asked Jessica what was wrong with the Swan girl. I didn’t like the way his thoughts wrapped around her, the flicker of already established fantasies that clouded his mind while he watched her start and look up from her reverie like she’d forgotten he was there.

“Nothing,” I heard Bella say in that quiet, clear voice. It seemed to ring like a bell over the babble in the cafeteria, but I knew that was just because I was listening for it so intently.

“I’ll just get a soda today,” she continued as she moved to catch up with the line. I couldn’t help flickering one glance in her direction. She was staring at the floor, the blood slowly fading from her face. I looked away quickly, to Emmett, who laughed at the now pained-looking smile on my face.

You look sick, bro.

I rearranged my features so the expression would seem casual and effortless. Jessica was wondering aloud about the girl’s lack of appetite. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Actually, I feel a little sick.” Her voice was lower, but still very clear. Why did it bother me, the protective concern that suddenly emanated from Mike Newton’s thoughts? What did it matter that there was a possessive edge to them? It wasn’t my business if Mike Newton felt unnecessarily anxious for her. Perhaps this was the way everyone responded to her. Hadn’t I wanted, instinctively, to protect her, too? Before I’d wanted to kill her, that is…

But was the girl ill?

It was hard to judge – she looked so delicate with her translucent skin… Then I realized that I was worrying, too, just like that dimwitted boy, and I forced myself not to think about her health.

Regardless, I didn’t like monitoring her through Mike’s thoughts. I switched to Jessica’s, watching carefully as the three of them chose which table to sit at. Fortunately, they sat with Jessica’s usual companions, at one of the first tables in the room. Not downwind, just as Alice had promised.

Alice elbowed me. She’s going to look soon, act human.

I clenched my teeth behind my grin.

“Ease up, Edward,” Emmett said. “Honestly. So you kill one human. That’s hardly the end of the world.”

“You would know,” I murmured.

Emmett laughed. “You’ve got to learn to get over things. Like I do. Eternity is a long time to wallow in guilt.”

Just then, Alice tossed a smaller handful of ice that she’d been hiding into Emmett’s unsuspecting face.

He blinked, surprised, and then grinned in anticipation.

“You asked for it,” he said as he leaned across the table and shook his iceencrusted hair in her direction. The snow, melting in the warm room, flew out from his hair in a thick shower of half-liquid, half-ice.

“Ew!” Rose complained, as she and Alice recoiled from the deluge.

Alice laughed, and we all joined in. I could see in Alice’s head how she’d orchestrated this perfect moment, and I knew that the girl – I should stop thinking of her that way, as if she were the only girl in the world – that Bella would be watching us laugh and play, looking as happy and human and unrealistically ideal as a Norman Rockwell painting.

Alice kept laughing, and held her tray up as a shield. The girl – Bella must still be staring at us.

…staring at the Cullens again, someone thought, catching my attention.

I looked automatically toward the unintentional call, realizing as my eyes found their destination that I recognized the voice – I’d been listening to it so much today. But my eyes slid right past Jessica, and focused on the girl’s penetrating gaze. She looked down quickly, hiding behind her thick hair again.

What was she thinking? The frustration seemed to be getting more acute as time went on, rather than dulling. I tried – uncertain in what I was doing for I’d never tried this before – to probe with my mind at the silence around her. My extra hearing had always come to me naturally, without asking; I’d never had to work at it. But I concentrated now, trying to break through whatever shield surrounded her.

Nothing but silence.

What is it about her? Jessica thought, echoing my own frustration.

“Edward Cullen is staring at you,” she whispered in the Swan girl’s ear, adding a giggle. There was no hint of her jealous irritation in her tone. Jessica seemed to be skilled at feigning friendship.

I listened, too engrossed, to the girl’s response.

“He doesn’t look angry, does he?” she whispered back.

So she had noticed my wild reaction last week. Of course she had.

The question confused Jessica. I saw my own face in her thoughts as she checked my expression, but I did not meet her glance. I was still concentrating on the girl, trying to hear something. My intent focus didn’t seem to be helping at all.

“No,” Jess told her, and I knew that she wished she could say yes – how it rankled inside her, my staring – though there was no trace of that in her voice. “Should he be?” “I don’t think he likes me,” the girl whispered back, laying her head down on her arm as if she were suddenly tired. I tried to understand the motion, but I could only make guesses. Maybe she was tired.

“The Cullens don’t like anybody,” Jess reassured her. “Well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them.” They never used to. Her thought was a grumble of complaint. “But he’s still staring at you.”

“Stop looking at him,” the girl said anxiously, lifting her head from her arm to make sure Jessica obeyed the order.

Jessica giggled, but did as she was asked.

The girl did not look away from her table for the rest of the hour. I thought – though, of course, I could not be sure – that this was deliberate. It seemed like she wanted to look at me. Her body would shift slightly in my direction, her chin would begin to turn, and then she would catch herself, take a deep breath, and stare fixedly at whoever was speaking.

I ignored the other thoughts around the girl for the most part, as they were not, momentarily, about her. Mike Newton was planning a snow fight in the parking lot after school, not seeming to realize that the snow had already shifted to rain. The flutter of soft flakes against the roof had become the more common patter of raindrops. Could he really not hear the change? It seemed loud to me.

When the lunch period ended, I stayed in my seat. The humans filed out, and I caught myself trying to distinguish the sound of her footsteps from the sound of the rest, as if there was something important or unusual about them. How stupid.

My family made no move to leave, either. They waited to see what I would do.

Would I go to class, sit beside the girl where I could smell the absurdly potent scent of her blood and feel the warmth of her pulse in the air on my skin? Was I strong enough for that? Or had I had enough for one day?

“I…think it’s okay,” Alice said, hesitant. “Your mind is set. I think you’ll make it through the hour.”

But Alice knew well how quickly a mind could change.

“Why push it, Edward?” Jasper asked. Though he didn’t want to feel smug that I was the one who was weak now, I could hear that he did, just a little. “Go home. Take it slow.”

“What’s the big deal?” Emmett disagreed. “Either he will or he won’t kill her. Might as well get it over with, either way.”

“I don’t want to move yet,” Rosalie complained. “I don’t want to start over. We’re almost out of high school, Emmett. Finally.”

I was evenly torn on the decision. I wanted, wanted badly, to face this head on rather than running away again. But I didn’t want to push myself too far, either. It had been a mistake last week for Jasper to go so long without hunting; was this just as pointless a mistake?

I didn’t want to uproot my family. None of them would thank me for that.

But I wanted to go to my biology class. I realized that I wanted to see her face again.

That’s what decided it for me. That curiosity. I was angry with myself for feeling it. Hadn’t I promised myself that I wouldn’t let the silence of the girl’s mind make me unduly interested in her? And yet, here I was, most unduly interested.

I wanted to know what she was thinking. Her mind was closed, but her eyes were very open. Perhaps I could read them instead.

“No, Rose, I think it really will be okay,” Alice said. “It’s…firming up. I’m ninety-three percent sure that nothing bad will happen if he goes to class.” She looked at me inquisitively, wondering what had changed in my thoughts that made her vision of the future more secure.

Would curiosity be enough to keep Bella Swan alive?

Emmett was right, though – why not get it over with, either way? I would face the temptation head on.

“Go to class,” I ordered, pushing away from the table. I turned and strode away from them without looking back. I could hear Alice’s worry, Jasper’s censure, Emmett’s approval, and Rosalie’s irritation trailing after me.

I took one last deep breath at the door of the classroom, and then held it in my lungs as I walked into the small, warm space.

I was not late. Mr. Banner was still setting up for today’s lab. The girl sat at my – at our table, her face down again, staring at the folder she was doodling on. I examined the sketch as I approached, interested in even this trivial creation of her mind, but it was meaningless. Just a random scribbling of loops within loops. Perhaps she was not concentrating on the pattern, but thinking of something else?

I pulled my chair back with unnecessary roughness, letting it scrape across the linoleum; humans always felt more comfortable when noise announced someone’s approach.

I knew she heard the sound; she did not look up, but her hand missed a loop in the design she was drawing, making it unbalanced.

Why didn’t she look up? Probably she was frightened. I must be sure to leave her with a different impression this time. Make her think she’d been imagining things before.

“Hello,” I said in the quiet voice I used when I wanted to make humans more comfortable, forming a polite smile with my lips that would not show any teeth.

She looked up then, her wide brown eyes startled – almost bewildered – and full of silent questions. It was the same expression that had been obstructing my vision for the last week.

As I stared into those oddly deep brown eyes, I realized that the hate – the hate I’d imagined this girl somehow deserved for simply existing – had evaporated. Not breathing now, not tasting her scent, it was hard to believe that anyone so vulnerable could ever justify hatred.

Her cheeks began to flush, and she said nothing.

I kept my eyes on hers, focusing only on their questioning depths, and tried to ignore the appetizing color of her skin. I had enough breath to speak for a while longer without inhaling.

“My name is Edward Cullen,” I said, though I knew she knew that. It was the polite way to begin. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.”

She seemed confused – there was that little pucker between her eyes again. It took her half a second longer than it should have for her to respond. “How do you know my name?” she demanded, and her voice shook just a little.

I must have truly terrified her. This made me feel guilty; she was just so defenseless. I laughed gently – it was a sound that I knew made humans more at ease. Again, I was careful about my teeth.

“Oh, I think everyone knows your name.” Surely she must have realized that she’d become the center of attention in this monotonous place. “The whole town’s been waiting for you to arrive.”

She frowned as if this information was unpleasant. I supposed, being shy as she seemed to be, attention would seem like a bad thing to her. Most humans felt the opposite. Though they didn’t want to stand out from the herd, at the same time they craved a spotlight for their individual uniformity.

“No,” she said. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?”

“Do you prefer Isabella?” I asked, perplexed by the fact that I couldn’t see where this question was leading. I didn’t understand. Surely, she’d made her preference clear many times that first day. Were all humans this incomprehensible without the mental context as a guide?

“No, I like Bella,” she answered, leaning her head slightly to one side. Her expression – if I was reading it correctly – was torn between embarrassment and confusion. “But I think Charlie – I mean my dad – must call me Isabella behind my back. That’s what everyone here seems to know me as.” Her skin darkened one shade pinker.

“Oh,” I said lamely, and quickly looked away from her face.

I’d just realized what her questions meant: I had slipped up – made an error. If I hadn’t been eavesdropping on all the others that first day, then I would have addressed her initially by her full name, just like everyone else. She’d noticed the difference. I felt a pang of unease. It was very quick of her to pick up on my slip. Quite astute, especially for someone who was supposed to be terrified by my nearness.

But I had bigger problems than whatever suspicions about me she might be keeping locked inside her head.

I was out of air. If I were going to speak to her again, I would have to inhale. It would be hard to avoid speaking. Unfortunately for her, sharing this table made her my lab partner, and we would have to work together today. It would seem odd – and incomprehensibly rude – for me to ignore her while we did the lab. It would make her more suspicious, more afraid…

I leaned as far away from her as I could without moving my seat, twisting my head out into the aisle. I braced myself, locking my muscles in place, and then sucked in one quick chest-full of air, breathing through my mouth alone.

Ahh!

It was genuinely painful. Even without smelling her, I could taste her on my tongue. My throat was suddenly in flames again, the craving every bit as strong as that first moment I’d caught her scent last week.

I gritted my teeth together and tried to compose myself.

“Get started,” Mr. Banner commanded.

It felt like it took every single ounce of self-control that I’d achieved in seventy years of hard work to turn back to the girl, who was staring down at the table, and smile. “Ladies first, partner?” I offered.

She looked up at my expression and her face went blank, her eyes wide. Was there something off in my expression? Was she frightened again? She didn’t speak. “Or, I could start, if you wish,” I said quietly.

“No,” she said, and her face went from white to red again. “I’ll go first.”

I stared at the equipment on the table, the battered microscope, the box of slides, rather than watch the blood swirl under her clear skin. I took another quick breath, through my teeth, and winced as the taste made my throat ache.

“Prophase,” she said after a quick examination. She started to remove the slide, though she’d barely examined it.

“Do you mind if I look?” Instinctively – stupidly, as if I were one of her kind – I reached out to stop her hand from removing the slide. For one second, the heat of her skin burned into mine. It was like an electric pulse – surely much hotter than a mere ninety-eight point six degrees. The heat shot through my hand and up my arm. She yanked her hand out from under mine.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered through my clenched teeth. Needing somewhere to look, I grasped the microscope and stared briefly into the eyepiece. She was right.

“Prophase,” I agreed.

I was still too unsettled to look at her. Breathing as quietly as I could through my gritted teeth and trying to ignore the fiery thirst, I concentrated on the simple assignment, writing the word on the appropriate line on the lab sheet, and then switching out the first slide for the next.

What was she thinking now? What had that felt like to her, when I had touched her hand? My skin must have been ice cold – repulsive. No wonder she was so quiet. I glanced at the slide.

“Anaphase,” I said to myself as I wrote it on the second line.

“May I?” she asked.

I looked up at her, surprised to see that she was waiting expectantly, one hand half-stretched toward the microscope. She didn’t look afraid. Did she really think I’d gotten the answer wrong?

I couldn’t help but smile at the hopeful look on her face as I slid the microscope toward her.

She stared into the eyepiece with an eagerness that quickly faded. The corners of her mouth turned down.

“Slide three?” she asked, not looking up from the microscope, but holding out her hand. I dropped the next slide into her hand, not letting my skin come anywhere close to hers this time. Sitting beside her was like sitting next to a heat lamp. I could feel myself warming slightly to the higher temperature.

She did not look at the slide for long. “Interphase,” she said nonchalantly – perhaps trying a little too hard to sound that way – and pushed the microscope to me. She did not touch the paper, but waited for me to write the answer. I checked – she was correct again.

We finished this way, speaking one word at a time and never meeting each other’s eyes. We were the only ones done – the others in the class were having a harder time with the lab. Mike Newton seemed to be having trouble concentrating – he was trying to watch Bella and me.

Wish he’d stayed wherever he went, Mike thought, eyeing me sulfurously. Hmm, interesting. I hadn’t realized the boy harbored any ill will towards me. This was a new development, about as recent as the girl’s arrival it seemed. Even more interesting, I found – to my surprise – that the feeling was mutual.

I looked down at the girl again, bemused by the wide range of havoc and upheaval that, despite her ordinary, unthreatening appearance, she was wreaking on my life. It wasn’t that I couldn’t see what Mike was going on about. She was actually rather pretty…in an unusual way. Better than being beautiful, her face was interesting. Not quite symmetrical – her narrow chin out of balance with her wide cheekbones; extreme in the coloring – the light and dark contrast of her skin and her hair; and then there were the eyes, brimming over with silent secrets…

Eyes that were suddenly boring into mine.

I stared back at her, trying to guess even one of those secrets.

“Did you get contacts?” she asked abruptly.

What a strange question. “No.” I almost smiled at the idea of improving my eyesight.

“Oh,” she mumbled. “I thought there was something different about your eyes.” I felt suddenly colder again as I realized that I was apparently not the only one attempting to ferret out secrets today.

I shrugged, my shoulders stiff, and glared straight ahead to where the teacher was making his rounds.

Of course there was something different about my eyes since the last time she’d stared into them. To prepare myself for today’s ordeal, today’s temptation, I’d spent the entire weekend hunting, satiating my thirst as much as possible, overdoing it really. I’d glutted myself on the blood of animals, not that it made much difference in the face of the outrageous flavor floating on the air around her. When I’d glared at her last, my eyes had been black with thirst. Now, my body swimming with blood, my eyes were a warmer gold. Light amber from my excessive attempt at thirst-quenching.

Another slip. If I’d seen what she’d meant with her question, I could have just told her yes.

I’d sat beside humans for two years now at this school, and she was the first to examine me closely enough to note the change in my eye color. The others, while admiring the beauty of my family, tended to look down quickly when we returned their stares. They shied away, blocking the details of our appearances in an instinctive endeavor to keep themselves from understanding. Ignorance was bliss to the human mind.

Why did it have to be this girl who would see too much?

Mr. Banner approached our table. I gratefully inhaled the gush of clean air he brought with him before it could mix with her scent.

“So, Edward,” he said, looking over our answers, “didn’t you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?”

“Bella,” I corrected him reflexively. “Actually, she identified three of the five.” Mr. Banner’s thoughts were skeptical as he turned to look at the girl. “Have you done this lab before?”

I watched, engrossed, as she smiled, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Not with onion root.”

“Whitefish blastula?” Mr. Banner probed.

“Yeah.”

This surprised him. Today’s lab was something he’d pulled from a more advanced course. He nodded thoughtfully at the girl. “Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?”

“Yes.”

She was advanced then, intelligent for a human. This did not surprise me.

“Well,” Mr. Banner said, pursing his lips. “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He turned and walked away mumbling, “So the other kids can get a chance to learn something for themselves,” under his breath. I doubted the girl could hear that. She began scrawling loops across her folder again.

Two slips so far in one half hour. A very poor showing on my part. Though I had no idea at all what the girl thought of me – how much did she fear, how much did she suspect? – I knew I needed to put forth a better effort to leave her with a new impression of me. Something to better drown her memories of our ferocious last encounter. “It’s too bad about the snow, isn’t it?” I said, repeating the small talk that I’d heard a dozen students discuss already. A boring, standard topic of conversation. The weather – always safe.

She stared at me with obvious doubt in her eyes – an abnormal reaction to my very normal words. “Not really,” she said, surprising me again.

I tried to steer the conversation back to trite paths. She was from a much brighter, warmer place – her skin seemed to reflect that somehow, despite its fairness – and the cold must make her uncomfortable. My icy touch certainly had…

“You don’t like the cold,” I guessed.

“Or the wet,” she agreed.

“Forks must be a difficult place for you to live.” Perhaps you should not have come here, I wanted to add. Perhaps you should go back where you belong.

I wasn’t sure I wanted that, though. I would always remember the scent of her blood – was there any guarantee that I wouldn’t eventually follow after her? Besides, if she left, her mind would forever remain a mystery. A constant, nagging puzzle. “You have no idea,” she said in a low voice, glowering past me for a moment.

Her answers were never what I expected. They made me want to ask more questions.

“Why did you come here, then?” I demanded, realizing instantly that my tone was too accusatory, not casual enough for the conversation. The question sounded rude, prying.

“It’s…complicated.”

She blinked her wide eyes, leaving it at that, and I nearly imploded out of curiosity – the curiosity burned as hot as the thirst in my throat. Actually, I found that it was getting slightly easier to breathe; the agony was becoming more bearable through familiarity.

“I think I can keep up,” I insisted. Perhaps common courtesy would keep her answering my questions as long as I was rude enough to ask them.

She stared down silently at her hands. This made me impatient; I wanted to put my hand under her chin and tilt her head up so that I could read her eyes. But it would be foolish of me – dangerous – to touch her skin again.

She looked up suddenly. It was a relief to be able to see the emotions in her eyes again. She spoke in a rush, hurrying through the words.

“My mother got remarried.”

Ah, this was human enough, easy to understand. Sadness passed through her clear eyes and brought the pucker back between them.

“That doesn’t sound so complex,” I said. My voice was gentle without my working to make it that way. Her sadness left me feeling oddly helpless, wishing there was something I could do to make her feel better. A strange impulse. “When did that happen?”

“Last September.” She exhaled heavily – not quite a sigh. I held my breath as her warm breath brushed my face.

“And you don’t like him,” I guessed, fishing for more information.

“No, Phil is fine,” she said, correcting my assumption. There was a hint of a smile now around the corners of her full lips. “Too young, maybe, but nice enough.” This didn’t fit with the scenario I’d been constructing in my head.

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” I asked, my voice a little too curious. It sounded like I was being nosy. Which I was, admittedly.

“Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living.” The little smile grew more pronounced; this career choice amused her.

I smiled, too, without choosing to. I wasn’t trying to make her feel at ease. Her smile just made me want to smile in response – to be in on the secret.

“Have I heard of him?” I ran through the rosters of professional ball players in my head, wondering which Phil was hers…

“Probably not. He doesn’t play well.” Another smile. “Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot.”

The rosters in my head shifted instantly, and I’d tabulated a list of possibilities in less than a second. At the same time, I was imagining the new scenario.

“And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him,” I said.

Making assumptions seemed to get more information out of her than questions did. It worked again. Her chin jutted out, and her expression was suddenly stubborn.

“No, she did not send me here,” she said, and her voice had a new, hard edge to it. My assumption had upset her, though I couldn’t quite see how. “I sent myself.”

I could not guess at her meaning, or the source behind her pique. I was entirely lost.

So I gave up. There was just no making sense of the girl. She wasn’t like other humans. Maybe the silence of her thoughts and the perfume of her scent were not the only unusual things about her.

“I don’t understand,” I admitted, hating to concede.

She sighed, and stared into my eyes for longer than most normal humans were able to stand.

“She stayed with me at first, but she missed him,” she explained slowly, her tone growing more forlorn with each word. “It made her unhappy…so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie.”

The tiny pucker between her eyes deepened.

“But now you’re unhappy,” I murmured. I couldn’t seem to stop speaking my hypotheses aloud, hoping to learn from her reactions. This one, however, did not seem as far off the mark.

“And?” she said, as if this was not even an aspect to be considered.

I continued to stare into her eyes, feeling that I’d finally gotten my first real glimpse into her soul. I saw in that one word where she ranked herself among her own priorities. Unlike most humans, her own needs were far down the list. She was selfless.

As I saw this, the mystery of the person hiding inside this quiet mind began to thin a little.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I said. I shrugged, trying to seem casual, trying to conceal the intensity of my curiosity.

She laughed, but there was no amusement the sound. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you? Life isn’t fair.”

I wanted to laugh at her words, though I, too, felt no real amusement. I knew a little something about the unfairness of life. “I believe I have heard that somewhere before.”

She stared back at me, seeming confused again. Her eyes flickered away, and then came back to mine.

“So that’s all,” she told me.

But I was not ready to let this conversation end. The little V between her eyes, a remnant of her sorrow, bothered me. I wanted to smooth it away with my fingertip. But, of course, I could not touch her. It was unsafe in so many ways.

“You put on a good show.” I spoke slowly, still considering this next hypothesis.

“But I’d be willing to bet that you’re suffering more than you let anyone see.” She made a face, her eyes narrowing and her mouth twisting into a lopsided pout, and she looked back towards the front of the class. She didn’t like it when I guessed right. She wasn’t the average martyr – she didn’t want an audience to her pain.

“Am I wrong?”

She flinched slightly, but otherwise pretended not to hear me.

That made me smile. “I didn’t think so.”

“Why does it matter to you?” she demanded, still staring away.

“That’s a very good question,” I admitted, more to myself than to answer her.

Her discernment was better than mine – she saw right to the core of things while I floundered around the edges, sifting blindly through clues. The details of her very human life should not matter to me. It was wrong for me to care what she thought. Beyond protecting my family from suspicion, human thoughts were not significant.

I was not used to being the less intuitive of any pairing. I relied on my extra hearing too much – I clearly was not as perceptive as I gave myself credit for.

The girl sighed and glowered toward the front of the classroom. Something about her frustrated expression was humorous. The whole situation, the whole conversation was humorous. No one had ever been in more danger from me than this little girl – at any moment I might, distracted by my ridiculous absorption in the conversation, inhale through my nose and attack her before I could stop myself – and she was irritated because I hadn’t answered her question.

“Am I annoying you?” I asked, smiling at the absurdity of it all.

She glanced at me quickly, and then her eyes seemed to get trapped by my gaze.

“Not exactly,” she told me. “I’m more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read – my mother always calls me her open book.”

She frowned, disgruntled.

I stared at her in amazement. The reason she was upset was because she thought I saw through her too easily. How bizarre. I’d never expended so much effort to understand someone in all my life – or rather existence, as life was hardly the right word.

I did not truly have a life.

“On the contrary,” I disagreed, feeling strangely…wary, as if there were some hidden danger here that I was failing to see. I was suddenly on edge, the premonition making me anxious. “I find you very difficult to read.”

“You must be a good reader then,” she guessed, making her own assumption that was, again, right on target.

“Usually,” I agreed.

I smiled at her widely then, letting my lips pull back to expose the rows of gleaming, razor sharp teeth behind them.

It was a stupid thing to do, but I was abruptly, unexpectedly desperate to get some kind of warning through to the girl. Her body was closer to me than before, having shifted unconsciously in the course of our conversation. All the little markers and signs that were sufficient to scare off the rest of humanity did not seem to be working on her. Why did she not cringe away from me in terror? Surely she had seen enough of my darker side to realize the danger, intuitive as she seemed to be.

I didn’t get to see if my warning had the intended effect. Mr. Banner called for the class’s attention just then, and she turned away from me at once. She seemed a little relieved for the interruption, so maybe she understood unconsciously.

I hoped she did.

I recognized the fascination growing inside me, even as I tried to root it out. I could not afford to find Bella Swan interesting. Or rather, she could not afford that. Already, I was anxious for another chance to talk to her. I wanted to know more about her mother, her life before she came here, her relationship with her father. All the meaningless details that would flesh out her character further. But every second I spent with her was a mistake, a risk she shouldn’t have to take.

Absentmindedly, she tossed her thick hair just at the moment that I allowed myself another breath. A particularly concentrated wave of her scent hit the back of my throat.

It was like the first day – like the wrecking ball. The pain of the burning dryness made me dizzy. I had to grasp the table again to keep myself in my seat. This time I had slightly more control. I didn’t break anything, at least. The monster growled inside me, but took no pleasure in my pain. He was too tightly bound. For the moment.

I stopped breathing altogether, and leaned as far from the girl as I could.

No, I could not afford to find her fascinating. The more interesting I found her, the more likely it was that I would kill her. I’d already made two minor slips today. Would I make a third, one that was not minor?

As soon as the bell sounded, I fled from the classroom – probably destroying whatever impression of politeness I’d halfway constructed in the course of the hour. Again, I gasped at the clean, wet air outside like it was a healing attar. I hurried to put as much distance between myself and the girl as was possible.

Emmett waited for me outside the door of our Spanish class. He read my wild expression for a moment.

How did it go? he wondered warily.

“Nobody died,” I mumbled.

I guess that’s something. When I saw Alice ditching there at the end, I thought…

As we walked into the classroom, I saw his memory from just a few moments ago, seen through the open door of his last class: Alice walking briskly and blank-faced across the grounds toward the science building. I felt his remembered urge to get up and join her, and then his decision to stay. If Alice needed his help, she would ask…

I closed my eyes in horror and disgust as I slumped into my seat. “I hadn’t realized that it was that close. I didn’t think I was going to…I didn’t see that it was that bad,” I whispered.

It wasn’t, he reassured me. Nobody died, right?

“Right,” I said through my teeth. “Not this time.”

Maybe it will get easier.

“Sure.”

Or, maybe you kill her. He shrugged. You wouldn’t be the first one to mess up. No one would judge you too harshly. Sometimes a person just smells too good. I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long.

“Not helping, Emmett.”

I was revolted by his acceptance of the idea that I would kill the girl, that this was somehow inevitable. Was it her fault that she smelled so good?

I know when it happened to me…, he reminisced, taking me back with him half a century, to a country lane at dusk, where a middle-aged women was taking her dried sheets down from a line strung between apple trees. The scent of apples hung heavy in the air – the harvest was over and the rejected fruits were scattered on the ground, the bruises in their skin leaking their fragrance out in thick clouds. A fresh-mowed field of hay was a background to that scent, a harmony. He walked up the lane, all.

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Free Essays

Twilight 2. OPEN BOOK

The next day was better… and worse.

It was better because it wasn’t raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while; that was nattering. People didn’t look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I now remembered. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn’t sleep with the wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn’t raised and I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn’t cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn’t in school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the Cowardly Lion look like the terminator.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica – trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for him, and failing entirely – I saw that his four siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and he was not with them.

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hoped that he would simply ignore me when he came, and prove my suspicions false.

He didn’t come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn’t showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn’t there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn’t be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn’t get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn’t there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn’t stop worrying that it was true.

When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I hurried from the girls’ locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed.

Last night I’d discovered that Charlie couldn’t cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD, MONEY, and I was on my way to the Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else’s car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn’t noticed their clothes before – I’d been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn’t look as if it bought them any acceptance here.

No, I didn’t fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn’t imagine any door that wouldn’t be opened by that degree of beauty.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn’t hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn’t mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a pony-tail, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages.

“Bella,” my mom wrote…

Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I’m almost finished packing for Florida, but I can’t find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom.

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

“Bella,” she wrote…

Why haven’t you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom.

The last was from this morning.

Isabella,

If I haven’t heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today I’m calling Charlie.

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.

Mom,

Calm down. I’m writing right now. Don’t do anything rash.Bella.

I sent that, and began again.

Mom,

Everything is great. Of course it’s raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn’t bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch.

Your blouse is at the dry cleaners – you were supposed to pick it up Friday.

Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It’s old, but really sturdy, which is good, you know, for me.

I miss you, too. I’ll write again soon, but I’m not going to check my e-mail every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you. Bella.

I had decided to read Wuthering Heights – the novel we were currently studying in English – yet again for the fun of it, and that’s what I was doing when Charlie came home. I’d lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

“Bella?” my father called out when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself.

“Hey, Dad, welcome home.”

“Thanks.” He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he’d never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked warily. My mother was an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren’t always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back.

“Steak and potatoes,” I answered, and he looked relieved.

He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

“Smells good, Bell.”

“Thanks.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together.

“So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?” he asked as he was taking seconds.

“Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there’s this boy, Mike, who’s very friendly.Everybody seems pretty nice.” With one outstanding exception.

“That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid – nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here.”

“Do you know the Cullen family?” I asked hesitantly.

“Dr. Cullen’s family? Sure. Dr. Cullen’s a great man.”

“They… the kids… are a little different. They don’t seem to fit in very well at school.”

Charlie surprised me by looking angry.

“People in this town,” he muttered. “Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here,” he continued, getting louder. “We’re lucky to have him – lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He’s an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they’re all very mature – I haven’t had one speck of trouble from any of them. That’s more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should – camping trips every other weekend… Just because they’re newcomers, people have to talk.”

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.

I backpedaled. “They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They’re all very attractive,” I added, trying to be more complimentary.

“You should see the doctor,” Charlie said, laughing. “It’s a good thing he’s happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around.”

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand – no dishwasher – I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.

Edward Cullen didn’t come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centered around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn’t totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful e-mail. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn’t bother to get a card; I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got… and shuddered at the thought.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn’t know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights. It was straightforward, very easy.

All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.

“Wow,” Mike said. “It’s snowing.”

I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.

“Ew.” Snow. There went my good day.

He looked surprised. “Don’t you like snow?”

“No. That means it’s too cold for rain.” Obviously. “Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes – you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips.”

“Haven’t you ever seen snow fall before?” he asked incredulously.

“Sure I have.” I paused. “On TV.”

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us – in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike appatently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.

“I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” I kept walking as I spoke. “Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside.”

He just nodded, his eyes on Eric’s retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure, it was drier than rain – until it melted in your socks.

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were five people at the table.

Jessica pulled on my arm.

“Hello? Bella? What do you want?”

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious,

I reminded myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What’s with Bella?” Mike asked Jessica.

“Nothing,” I answered. “I’ll just get a soda today.” I caught up to the end of the line.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Jessica asked.

“Actually, I feel a little sick,” I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurse’s office for the next hour. Ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to run away. I decided to permit myself one glance at the Cullen family’s table. If he was glaring at me, I would skip Biology, like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little. They were laughing. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else – only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edward the most carefully. His skin was less pale, I decided – flushed from the snow fight maybe – the circles under his eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

“Bella, what are you staring at?” Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine. I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that he didn’t look harsh or unfriendly as he had the last time I’d seen him. He looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

“Edward Cullen is staring at you,” Jessica giggled in my ear.

“He doesn’t look angry, does he?” I couldn’t help asking.

“No,” she said, sounding confused by my question. “Should he be?”

“I don’t think he likes me,” I confided. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

“The Cullens don’t like anybody… well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them. But he’s still staring at you.”

“Stop looking at him,” I hissed.

She snickered, but she looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did, contemplating violence if she resisted.

Mike interrupted us then – he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I’d made with myself. Since he didn’t look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to him again.

I didn’t really want to walk to class with Mike as usual – he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers – but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

Mike kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn’t start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

“Hello,” said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled – even so, he looked like he’d just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

“My name is Edward Cullen,” he continued. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.”

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn’t think of anything conventional to say.

“H-how do you know my name?” I stammered.

He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

“Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town’s been waiting for you to arrive.”

I grimaced. I knew it was something like that.

“No,” I persisted stupidly. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?”

He seemed confused. “Do you prefer Isabella?”

“No, I like Bella,” I said. “But I think Charlie – I mean my dad – must call me Isabella behind my back – that’s what everyone here seems to know me as,” I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.

“Oh.” He let it drop. I looked away awkwardly.

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren’t supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

“Get started,” he commanded.

“Ladies first, partner?” Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot.

“Or I could start, if you wish.” The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent.

“No,” I said, flushing. “I’ll go ahead.”

I was showing off, just a little. I’d already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

My assessment was confident. “Prophase.”

“Do you mind if I look?” he asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice-cold, like he’d been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn’t why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.

“Prophase,” he agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

“Anaphase,” he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. “May I?”

He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.

“Slide three?” I held out my hand without looking at him.

He handed it to me; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

“Interphase.” I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn’t want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table.

Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at him… unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in his face.

“Did you get contacts?” I blurted out unthinkingly.

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. “No.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “I thought there was something different about your eyes.”

He shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he’d glared at me – the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair. Today, his eyes were a completely different color: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I didn’t understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren’t working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

“So, Edward, didn’t you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?” Mr. Banner asked.

“Bella,” Edward corrected automatically. “Actually, she identified three of the five.”

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.

“Have you done this lab before?” he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. “Not with onion root.”

“Whitefish blastula?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Banner nodded. “Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

“It’s too bad about the snow, isn’t it?” Edward asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

“Not really,” I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn’t concentrate.

“You don’t like the cold.” It wasn’t a question.

“Or the wet.”

“Forks must be a difficult place for you to live,” he mused.

“You have no idea,” I muttered darkly.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn’t imagine. His face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.

“Why did you come here, then?”

No one had asked me that – not straight out like he did, demanding.

“It’s… complicated.”

“I think I can keep up,” he pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

“My mother got remarried,” I said.

“That doesn’t sound so complex,” he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. “When did that happen?”

“Last September.” My voice sounded sad, even to me.

“And you don’t like him,” Edward surmised, his tone still kind.

“No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?”

I couldn’t fathom his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life’s story was somehow vitally important.

“Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living.” I half-smiled.

“Have I heard of him?” he asked, smiling in response.

“Probably not. He doesn’t play well. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot.”

“And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him.” He said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction. “No, she did not send me here. I sent myself.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand,” he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

“She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy… so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie.” My voice was glum by the time I finished.

“But now you’re unhappy,” he pointed out.

“And?” I challenged.

“That doesn’t seem fair.” He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you? Life isn’t fair.”

“I believe I have heard that somewhere before,” he agreed dryly.

“So that’s all,” I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. “You put on a good show,” he said slowly. “But I’d be willing to bet that you’re suffering more than you let anyone see.”

I grimaced at him, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away.

“Am I wrong?”

I tried to ignore him.

“I didn’t think so,” he murmured smugly.

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

“That’s a very good question,” he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

I sighed, scowling at the blackboard.

“Am I annoying you?” he asked. He sounded amused.

I glanced at him without thinking… and told the truth again. “Not exactly. I’m more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read – my mother always calls me her open book.” I frowned.

“On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read.” Despite everything that I’d said and he’d guessed, he sounded like he meant it.

“You must be a good reader then,” I replied.

“Usually.” He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I was in disbelief that I’d just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful boy who may or may not despise me. He’d seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.

Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined him with a wagging tail.

“That was awful,” he groaned. “They all looked exactly the same. You’re lucky you had Cullen for a partner.”

“I didn’t have any trouble with it,” I said, stung by his assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. “I’ve done the lab before, though,” I added before he could get his feelings hurt.

“Cullen seemed friendly enough today,” he commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. He didn’t seem pleased about it.

I tried to sound indifferent. “I wonder what was with him last Monday.”

I couldn’t concentrate on Mike’s chatter as we walked to Gym, and RE. didn’t do much to hold my attention, either. Mike was on my team today. He chivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home.

I looked around me to make sure it was clear. That’s when I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw him laughing.

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Sunrise Over Fallujah

Last Year Popular author Walter Dean Meyers published his newly book titled Sunrise Over Fallujah, His final book in the anticipated war series. This is the best war book he has ever written. Since he was in Vietnam, and he has relatives that have fought in the war against terrorism. So he has major experience in the war factor, knowing what could possibly be going on. Sunrise Over Fallujah is about a teenage boy from Harlem, New York. His name is Robin, and he joined the army. He’s not so sure why he did because he is always so nervous about it. When he joins he meets someone named Jonesy.

Jonesy black man who is very confident in himself and loves to write and listen to blues music. Robin also meets some pretty harsh people like Marla, Marla is a very pretty lady who thinks she is better then everyone she meets. In the beginning of the book it starts off describing how Iraq is and if Robin is going to be in the war. Everyone wants to go into the war for some reason, but Robin, and Jonesy are pretty nervous about it. Since Mr. Meyers knows about war there’s nothing in this book that can disappoint. The real problem is that they have their enemies trying to get them with detonators, and other dangerous explosive weapons.

Mr. Meyers shows in this book how soldiers can grow brotherhood with other soldiers. He is very descriptive so it’s like you’re watching a movie. Meyers shows how gruesome war could really be. He also shows that the war could effect everyone including children. In the end Jonesy becoming a hero, and Robin overcame his worries. Jonesy became a hero because a blind kid was lost in a street battle and Jonesy ran after him and saved him. Then later Jonesy died because of his gun wounds he had suffered. Robin finally became used to the fact that he was in the army, and stopped worrying.

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The Bean Trees

In the book The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver, there is a young girl named Taylor who did not want to be like the typical girls from Kentucky. She wanted to go and get out of the small town. She got in her old beat up car and traveled throughout the United States, until she landed in Arizona. When she was there she not only had to deal with herself, but she now had a little girl who she named Turtle. This was not her daughter; instead someone she barely knew handed her off to Taylor.

Turtle was not your average toddler, she was what some people call retarded or slow, but Taylor did not even notice that, all she saw was a little girl in need of help. Even though Taylor could not give Turtle a life of riches, she knew she could at least do better than before. Throughout the rest of the book Taylor experiences many events that portray evil. “Turtle’s main goal in life, other than hanging on to things, seemed to be to pass unnoticed” (81). Turtle was a mentally slow child.

When she was given to Taylor the woman said that her mother had died and that the little girl had no home. Taylor was just being a good person and taking Turtle, so that she could live in a better place. Once she had Turtle she took her back to the hotel and gave her a bath. When she did she realized that the black and blue marks on her body was not just dirt, but bruises. Taylor had grown up in a loving house with a loving mother who taught her the necessities of life.

Seeing Turtle and beat up and scared broke Taylor’s heart. There was a cactus with bushy arms and a coat of yellow spines as thick as fur. A bird had built her nest in it. In and out she flew among the horrible spiny branches, never once hesitating. You just couldn’t imagine how she’d made a home in there” (130). Which makes Turtle’s new life, not glamorous, but a lot better than it could have been. Turtle was not the only person in Taylor’s life. There were two immigrants that were friends of hers they were Esperanza and Esteven. She knew that they were in the country illegally, but Taylor did not care.

They were nice people who had been tortured in their life as well. The government had been trying to get them and everyone seemed to be very rude to them. “You can go and visit heaven. What? You see a room just like the first one, the same table, the same pot of stew, the same spoons as long as a sponge mop. But these people are all happy and fat” (113). Esteven meant that there is people will help you in heaven, but no one will help you in hell. He was influencing that he was in hell because someone had kidnapped his very own kid, and the government is out to get rid of them.

This shows how their whole life they have been trying to run away from evil. Turtle was a very unlucky and lucky girl. She was unlucky in the sense that she had been abused and almost lost and kidnapped. She was in the park one day playing with Lou Ann’s child, when this scary man came up and was going to take her. Her babysitter put up her cane and scared the man away. Turtle did not just forget about it though. She went on not talking to anyone about anything, even Taylor. Taylor had always been very strong when hard or scary situations came upon them.

In this case she was not, she was going crazy worried that Turtle would never talk again. She also started feeling sorry for herself, like she wasn’t good enough to be a mother to Turtle. She soon came to realize that she was the best life that Turtle could have right now. Eventually Turtle talked again but it she felt most comfortable with Taylor. Throughout this book there were many bad experiences that happened to Taylor. She found a sad little girl that was abandoned and bruised, friends that were in trouble with the government, and a new daughter that was almost kidnapped.

Even throughout all of those hard times Taylor managed to not “freak out” she always looked at life in the positive eye. Taylor is a strong woman, and even though people have their weaknesses she was a great mother to Turtle. Out of all the evil in her life she made it look so simple to deal with. “…I was not the smartest or even particularly outstanding but I was there and staying out of trouble and I intended to finish” (3). Taylor was not the perfect mother or a perfect person, but she had a great heart and a great passion to do the right thing, and that she was amazing at.

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Blue Like Jazz Conversion Stories

In the book Blue like Jazz there is a couple of conversion stories I would like to talk about. The first one comes from Chapter 4. It is the conversion of Millers friend Penny. Penny was a person who did not like Christians and Christianity based on the stereotypes that she had seen and the world has given to them. In the chapter it says that Penny wanted nothing to do with Christianity until she met a friend from her school.

She went to college at the same place as miller, which is reed college, and after her freshman year she decided to study at a school in france. While there she was introduced to another student from Reed who she was very fond of and her name is Nadine. Nadine was a very nice person to Penny and listened to Penny’s childhood problems intently and with care. One night Nadine told Penny that she was a christian and Penny was very upset by it.

She did not want to believe that this person that was so nice, kind and listened to her so well was a Christian because from her perspective of Christianity these were not traits of a Christian. Then when Penny started to think about it she found out that maybe Christianity has something to offer her. This was the beginning process of her conversion. She may not have changed her ways immediately but this way of thinking and meeting Nadine really opened up her mind to Christianity.

Later in the book it goes to talk about how she converts after hearing the voice of God while she was high on drugs. This may or may not be true but personally I believe that it is. I think that God will come to people when they are most vulnerable and tell them straight up what they need to here. A couple of days later after hearing Gods voice she prayed and asked for forgiveness of her sins and that is the day that she converted. All that was left was a public display of conversion, also known as baptism.

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Summary: The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens is a book authored by Sean Covey. It was in the year 2001 the Indonesian version of the book first published in Indonesia. Sean Covey’s father, Stephen Covey, is well-known for authoring his international bestseller book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, The 8th Habit: from Effectiveness to Greatness, and many other popular self helping books. Sean Covey himself writes other several self helping books as well.

If practiced, the 7 habits Stephen and Sean Covey referred in their books will make the readers able to control their lives, to do more in fewer time, improve relationships with other people, improve self confidence, rehab from addiction, be happy, find the balances between the time for school, work, hang out, and many other activities. Moreover, the readers will find out what do they value the most in their lives. What do habits have to do with effectiveness? Well, our habits will decide whether or not we will be successful, and whether or not we will be happy.

An English poet once said that at first we will determine our habits, and the next our habits will determine who we are. Our habits, good or bad will shape our characters. Everyone has good as well as bad habits, so everyone should deal with their bad habits and create the good habits. Yes, we are able to create, change and eliminate our habits. It is not easy to do that, but when we are able to deal with our own habits, then we are ready to deal with other people’s habits. In creating good habits, we should have good paradigm in our lives. Paradigm means perception.

It is like a pair of glasses that will determine whether we will see things clearly or not. We will never know how poor our current vision is, until we get a new and better pair of glasses. In the book, Sean Covey mentioned some statements of some experts in the past that sound silly now. One of them is a statement from Ferdinand Foch, a French Military Strategic Expert who became a World War I Commander. He once stated that airplanes are interesting toys, but have no value in the military. Ferdinand was sure about his perception, but it turned out that he was wrong.

No one has the best and complete perception. As an analogy, let us say that there is a group of blind people who never encounter any elephants before. We bring them an elephant and we ask them to touch and describe the elephant. One will say that an elephant is like a giant snake. He actually is only touching the elephant’s trunk. Another will say that an elephant is like a rope, but he is actually only touching the elephant’s tail. They all will be very sure of their perception about the elephant, and they will argue.

The point from this analogy is, we are like those blind people, trying to understand something big and we only see it from one side but we are so sure that it is just as what we see. Having the wrong paradigm is just not good because it will be an obstacle in our lives. In this live, what you see is what you get (WYSIWYG), so in order to get the good things we must make sure that we see the good things. My favorite from Covey’s stories about paradigm is the story of a Dauphine of France. After King Louis is imprisoned, the Dauphine is taken to a faraway community.

They are trying to destroy the Dauphine’s morality so that he will not become the next King of France. They introduce him to the community where people use bad words, where prostitution is everywhere, and where people are not respecting or trusting other people. Six months in such a community, not even once he follows their lifestyle. The secret is that he knows that he is born to be a King, and that is why he should not act like that. In this story, we can see how powerful paradigm is. Positive paradigms will make us great but negative paradigms will obstacle us. 1st Habit: Be Proactive

Being proactive means not being reactive. A reactive person is a person who feels that he is a victim of life, a victim of conditions, and a victim of other people’s mistake. When something unfortunate happens to him, he always thinks that he is a victim, and he can do nothing. He never thinks that it is his own fault. The blame is always on other people, or on conditions. He keeps complaining on things that he cannot control, like the weather, the traffic jam, etc. Reactive people tend to have bad tensions and they are easily irritated. In our lives, we should lead our own way.

If the journey of our lives is like our journey in a car, being proactive means being the driver. The reactive people are the passengers in their own car, and they are letting other people or the condition to drive for them. While the reactive people wait for good things to happen to their lives, proactive people make them happen. They look for the things they want and if they cannot find one, they create one. They know what things they can control and what things they cannot control.

Reactive people complain and worry about things they cannot control while proactive people deal with the things they an control. We cannot control the conditions, but we can control our respond towards the conditions. For example, when Amy has a problem, she becomes easily irritated, so when Beth told her that she looks miserable, Amy get irritated and said bad things to Beth. If Beth is a reactive person, she will be irritated as well; she will get mad and start a fight with Amy. This time, Beth is a proactive person, she does not like what Amy said about her, but she pull back and try to tolerate. Beth tries to understand that Amy is undergoing a problem and she did not mean to say that.

She also introspects herself, and she tries to put herself on Amy’s position, and she understands that if she was Amy, she will get irritated as well. The next day, Beth apologizes to Amy and Amy tells her that she also felt sorry for saying bad things to her. Barrack Obama’s “Yes We Can” slogan is a proactive slogan. By being proactive, we should be sure of our own ability. If we cannot trust our selves, how can other people trust us? Instead of saying “Okay, I will try” we should say “I will do it”. It is more powerful yet ensuring.

Which sentence do you think is the best when one of your friends gives you a birthday present? Is it “Wow, Beth they are fabulous stilettos. I will try to wear them”, or “Thank you Beth, I will wear them”? 2nd Habit: Begin with the End in Mind When driving our cars on the road, we will encounter several branches and we should choose the one that will bring us to our destination. How can we choose which way to go if we do not know our destination? When asking people about directions, we should always mention the destination so that they can tell us which the right route is.

There are times when we should make big decisions about the choices in our lives, and the same principle will apply. We should know where to go; we should know what our goal in our lives is. Once we know, we will find out which route to take, which choice we should take. If we just randomly choose the route, then we will arrive at a random destination as well. That is why we should begin with the end. Writing down our own mission statements is the best way to implement the 2nd habit. These will be our guidelines and principles to help us to choose which route to go in our lives.

Our mission statements could be anything, could be in our own or our favorite words, poems, pictures, photographs, quotations, etc. Some or most of us might think that this is not necessary. It is actually very helpful not because it is written, but it is helpful because when we want to write our mission down, we need to be specific to put the words together. Besides, it also gives a sort of psychological effect that it gives us spirit by having our mission statements written down. 3rd Habit: Put First Things First In the third habit, we learn about priorities and time management.

In the second habit, we learn that we should decide what the most important aspects in our lives are, and then in the third habit, we learn that we should prioritize them. In doing our daily activities, we are not spending our time effectively if we do not set any priority. There is a famous analogy about priorities, which is also mentioned by Sean Covey in the book. Let us assume that there is an empty container, representing the time we have in a day. There are big stones representing the important things to do and there are also pebbles representing some other daily unimportant activities that will take some time.

When we put the pebbles into the container, and the big stones after, the container will have no enough space for all of the stones and pebbles. There will be some big stones remain outside the container. Now try to do it reversely. If we put the big stones first, and the pebbles right after, there will be enough space for all of them because the pebbles can fit into small spaces between the large stones. The message from this analogy is that we should do the priorities first in order to get all of them done. There is a simple way to help us managing our time.

It is by setting a weekly plan and we can it on our agenda. By having them written down, we will not forget about our plan, deadlines or maybe other schedule. In making the weekly plan, we should identify what are our ‘big stones’ and set a schedule for them. After that, we can schedule our ‘pebbles’ as well. Then we should do our best to have all the priorities of the week done. In the third habit, we also learn to face our fear and pressure. We need courage to hold on our ground principles, our standards, and our priorities. We need courage to step out from our comfort zone.

Stepping out from our comfort zone is necessary to challenge and to improve ourselves. There would be risks, but without taking the risks, we cannot learn and grow. A person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, and is nothing. We shall not let our fear make decisions in our lives. We might fail many times, but we should never give up. Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but rising every time we fall (Confucius). 4th Habit: Think Win/Win In the society, most of us do not think win/win. Some of us think Win/Lose, Lose/Win, or Lose/Lose.

The Win/Lose people think of everything as competitions where there is only either win or lose, and that when competing with other people, they should be the winner, and when other people become the winner, they become the loser. They think that nothing is enough for everybody so they should compete. The Lose/Win people think that they should just let other people be the winner by making everyone happy and sacrifice their own need / feeling (become the loser). The Lose/Lose people think that if they fail, everyone should fail as well. This will happen when two or more Win/Lose people meet.

The Win/Win people think that everyone could get all they want because everything is unlimited. Sean Covey illustrates the situation as people going out to eat at a buffet, so everyone can have all you can eat. Now that we know what the Win/Win attitude is, we might want to know how to think Win/Win. The first thing is to win our own victory, which means that we should have a good level of confidence. The second thing is to avoid being competitive and comparative. It will be an endless effort to be the best in everything and to be perfect in anyways.

Nobody is perfect and we should embrace our strengths and weaknesses. When we feel secure about ourselves, then we can avoid being competitive and comparative. 5th Habit: Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood Many people are too busy talking that they have no time to listen. God created each of us with a pair of ears and only one mouth. It tells us that we should spend more of our time listening than talking. We should stop talking and try to listen to and understand other people, and then it will be our turn to be listened to and understood.

People tend to be egoistic, so they want other people to listen to them because they just care about their own problem, but they fail to listen to other people. What happen when everybody is talking? No one is listening. We need other people to understand us. Let us look at a situation where Amy has a conflict with her parents. Amy talked to Beth about her problem, but before Amy done telling about her feelings, Beth keep interrupting with her story about a conflict she had with her parents and assuming that Amy is having the same problem Beth ever had.

Amy will not be happy because she feels that Beth is not paying attention to her, and Beth does not understand her. Later, Amy will not be open to Beth anymore, because what Amy really need is Beth’s attention and sympathy. Not paying attention is just one of the bad listening styles. There are some others like pretending to be listening, selectively listening, verbal-only listening, self-focus listening and wandering minds. In order to understand other people, we should sincerely listen to them when they are talking. There are three steps in sincerely listening.

First, we should listen to his/her verbal (words) as well as non-verbal language (intonation, body language). Secondly, we should try to see things from his/her perspective, and the last is to be a mirror. What it means by to be a mirror is to repeat what he/she told us with different words as our respond to show that we are paying attention. 6th Habit: Synergize People are all different; they have different needs, different interest, and different skills. There is no one like you and there is no one like me in this world. Differences can break a nation apart, but differences can also form a powerful nation.

It depends on how they deal with their differences. There are many cases of differences that cause conflicts. However, in many parts of the world, the communities have people with different religion, culture, race and nationality. Differences are not always about those. People from the very same hometown, culture, race, nationality and religion have differences as well. They might be different in their social status, their talents, etc. Some people deal with the differences by avoiding, and some tolerating the differences. Nowadays people tend to campaign about toleration.

Actually, there is the best way to deal with the differences. It is to embrace the differences and utilize them. It is not about how to let different people do different things. It is about how to let two different persons work together; synergize to get a better result which they could never achieve if they work alone. As an example, when Amy and Beth want to set a business to earn their own money, Amy wants to do a bakery business while Beth wants to do a creative art business. Amy is into baking cakes and cookies while Beth is into creating decorative stuffs.

They might fight about which business to do which will result in nothing but a fight. They might also do it their own way. Amy alone could do her best and earn USD 800 from her bakery business. On the other hand, Beth could do her best and earn USD 700 from her creative art business. However, there is another solution to their different business interest. They can synergize where they accept orders for cakes or cookies as wedding or birthday party souvenirs. Amy will bake the cupcakes or the cookies while Beth will handle the packaging. Then together, they could earn up to USD 2000.

When they do the business alone and we sum up their profit, USD 800 plus USD 700 is only USD 1500. 7th Habit: Sharpen the Saw There are four key dimensions in our lives, which are body, mind, heart and soul. These key dimensions should be sharpened regularly. No matter how much energy we use to cutting trees with a blunt saw, it will takes forever. If we spend our time to sharpen the saw before cutting the trees, we will not need that much of time. We should regularly sharpen the four key dimensions. If we only sharpen our body intensively, without sharpening our mind, we will be the brainless athletes.

If we only sharpen our mind intensively without sharpening other dimensions, we will be the unsocial geeks. Neither one is good. We should balance between the four dimensions. First, we will discuss about how to sharpen our bodies. We can do it by eating healthy food because we are what we eat. We can also relax in the bathtub at the end of the day, exercise or do any kinds of sport we like, have enough sleep every day, and refusing to take any hazardous intake. Addiction to tobacco, alcohol and/or drugs is extremely dangerous. It will not only blunt one dimension, but also other dimensions.

Secondly, to sharpen our mind, we should continuously learn about anything. We should never stop learning. Learning does not mean going to school, college or any academic institute. School and college are very important for our future, but the thing is, we should make sure that we are actually learning, not achieving scores only. There is no point of going to college with great GPA if we learn nothing. There are many ways to learn and the most frequently used is reading. We do not always have to read school textbooks to learn something. We can choose any topic of our interest.

No matter how unimportant a topic sounds, we are actually learning something and broaden our knowledge when we read about it. Other ways to sharpen our mind are playing games (chess or logical games), traveling, attending seminars, watching television, reading newspaper, learning how to play a music instrument, etc. The third dimension is our heart, and we can sharpen it by building good relationships with other people as well as ourselves. A good relationship with ourselves means that we trust ourselves, that we are content and confidence in our own skin.

In other words, we are treating ourselves nice. While a good relationship with other people means that we make sure that we are trustworthy, kind, loyal and understanding. Depression is a demon for this dimension, but we can fight depression with hope, faith and laughter. Never underestimate the power of hope, faith and laughter. The last but not the least dimension is our soul. How do we sharpen our soul? There are several ways to do it. We can meditate, write a journal, go on a trip, paint, pray, write a song, listen to the music, play an instrument, and many other activities.

Going on a trip to see nice view where we can relax and enjoy the view. It will help us to get in touch with the nature. Nature has the healing power for our soul. Writing a journal also heals us by letting us to express our feelings, and from a journal we can also learn from our mistakes because we might forget about that lesson in the future. Moreover, reading, listening or watching an inspirational media will also help us to sharpen our soul. Reading is useful to sharpen our mind but depending on the content, some can sharpen our soul as well.

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The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time

The narrator of the book; ‘The curious Incident of the dog in the night-time’ by Mark Haddon, is a kid named Christopher who is born with Asperberg’s syndrome, and therefore he narrates the novel from his point of view which is very interesting because he sees things in a much simpler way than people who do not suffer this mental birth defect. Christopher shows the ‘otherness’ in society because he is living in a social environment that unconsciously discriminates and excludes people that are different.

A moment where we can see how Christopher is treated differently is in school. He goes to a school for kids that have mental problems that need special cares. Even though Christopher has this mental dementia, he is a genius in mathematics and physics, and as his school does not count with ‘A’ math classes, Christopher requested them. The school wanted to deprive this kind of education to him because they thought he was not going to endure it and that it was not necessary.

But finally, Christopher’s father complained and he was allowed to take those classes. Also, he is discriminated when the police comes to Mrs. Shear’s house and sees him with the dead dog in his arms. The policeman acted alert from the beginning, when he realized that Christopher had a mental problem. He was quickly judged and considered guilty, and any move that he made played against him (the policeman touched him, and as Christopher does not like to be touched, hit him and was accused for attacking the police).

He was taken to the police station and ended up with a mark on his personal register. Finally Christopher’s father saved him from being accused as the murderer of Mrs. Shears’s dog. In conclusion, Christopher lives unconscious of how differently he is treated and passes through them without caring. However, many people love him and take care of him.

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Born Too Short

Thirteen year-old, five-foot one Matt Greene has one problem. He also has many talents that go unnoticed. He is very intelligent and can play the guitar. But, he does not get the respect due to him because of his height. He does not play sports, and has gotten rejected by girls he wants to date. They do not want a boyfriend who is the size of a dwarf.

Unlike Matt, his best friend, Keith, was the coolest most popular guy. He is everything that Matt is not. He stands a towering six feet three inches tall and is captain of the basketball team. He does not have any problems getting dates with the girls. Matt aspires to be like him, but he just does not have the same effect as Keith.

Matt became very angry one day and confessed his jealousy of Keith to himself. He wished that bad things would happen to Keith. He wanted Keith’s girlfriend to dump him. He wanted him to be bad at sports. He also wanted Shania Twain, who was going to star in Keith’s father’s movie, to look like a horse.

Suddenly the next day, all of his wishes started coming true. Keith’s girlfriend cheated on him. Keith missed the last point in the championship game, thus causing his team to lose. Shania Twain had a car accident, and had to have plastic surgery on her face, and in the newspaper, she looked like a horse.

Good fortune fell upon Matt. He has a scholarship to Paris for music and found himself a girlfriend, named Jose. After realizing what happened to Keith, Matt feels guilty. He feels that his secret envy has ruined his best friend’s life. He wanted to make every thing go back to normal. He had to talk to Keith to resolve the conflict.

After a heartfelt conversation with Keith, Matt learns that he does not need to be like his friend. He realizes that every person is different and that is what makes people unique. He appreciates the friendships that he shares with Keith and Jose. Now, Matt is more careful in what he thinks about people without knowing how they may be feeling.

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Ghost Solder

Stirrup-a loop, ring, or other contrivance of metal, wood, leather, etc. , suspended from the saddle of a horse to support the rider’s foot. Her foot was stuck in the stirrup. Musket-a heavy, large-caliber smoothbore gun for infantry soldiers, introduced in the 16th century. He shot the musket. Hospitable-receiving or treating guests or strangers warmly and generously. That was a vary hospitable family. Siege-the act or process of surrounding and attacking a fortified place in such a way as to isolate it from help and supplies, for the purpose of lessening the resistance of the defenders and thereby making capture possible.

Sherman’s March was a siege. Archives-documents or records relating to the activities, business dealings, etc. , of a person, family, corporation, association, community, or nation. That drawer is felled with archives Mortars-a receptacle of hard material, having a bowl-shaped cavity in which substances are reduced to powder with a pestle. Minie ball-a conical bullet with a hollow base that expanded when fired, used in the 19th century. when he shot the gun a minie ball fired. Cretin-a stupid, obtuse, or mentally defective person. He is cretin.

Mellow-soft and rich, as sound, tones, color, or light. That color is mellow Percussion-a sharp blow for detonating a percussion cap or the fuze of an artillery shell. The percussion of all the gun fire hurt my ears. Conflict- Alexander dose not want to go to his dads girlfriends house in NC. And dose not want his dad to remarry his mom left him. He has to help richeson find out what happened to his family. s Climax-When Alexander goes throw the window of time and Richeson asks for his help. Resolution-Alexander helps Richeson’s and come to terms with his own past.

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The Wars, Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water

In the book the wars Timothy uses the elements of earth, wind, fire and as double sided meanings were one is the challenge of war and one is the strategy Robert used the element to keep him sane. If we look at earth for Roberts soldier side. We can see that it is always refereed to the mud, which was one of the soldier’s greatest enemies. It caused many soldiers to drown as well as slow down soldiers during artillery strikes. For Roberts’s normal side we see how he frees Rodwells toad in the mud showing earth’s nature side.

The Earth at one point traps Robert making Robert have to struggle free harder and harder faster and faster causing Robert to be temporary blind from the gas. The earth also resembled Roberts’s love for nature since he used animals to resemble the people he knew to keep some sanity during the war this though led to Roberts blindness at the end of the war. Robert blinded himself so much in the belief that he used this to save the horses, which was one of the first things he ever killed losing his innocence. I believe this was Roberts way of saying he wanted his innocence back and wasn’t able to keep the soldier face on any more.

Finley also uses the air as an element for its life giving properties or the unluckiness of bringing deathly gases. During the war Robert uses the air to see his childhood …the mist was filled with rabbits and Rowena and his father and his mother and the whole of his past life—birth and death and childhood. He could breathe them in and breathe them out. ”(p. 14). During the battles of war though Robert is constantly running and hiding from the air to live but at the same time everytime he breaths he remembers his home, “Slithering over the crater’s rim—a pale blue fog appeared. Like a veil his mother might’ve worn. ”(P. 137).

From this I believe he uses the air to think for what he has to live for at home. He uses this to stay sane as well as give him something to live for increasing his chances of survival. At the ending of the book they say you can see the air he his breathing which is Robert finally being home as his own sane self. For fire it is both chaos as well as what brings back Roberts human side. In the barn Robert suffers serious burns to the face which is supposed to resemble his soldier face disappearing. After his time in the hospital Robert lives a normal life away from war where we can finally see him smiling in a photo of him with his burnt face.

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My Favourite Book

For years, teachers and parents have been worried about comics, the cinema, television, and now the Internet. They all stop children reading, they say. However, it now seems that children are reading more than ever. Reading habits have changed, because there is now lots of competition from other media, but I think that reading is still popular. The reading is very important for me because book is cognitive. When I read a book I recognize something interesting, I get to know new hero and heroine. I like to read classical literature.

It is my dream to become a student of the department of foreign languages and to be able to read the books by my favourite English and American writers in origin. What is my favourite book? This question is very interesting for me. Nowadays there are many different genres of literatures. And it is very difficult to chouse one of them. I read many different books. So in every book I always find thing, which I like very much. I like to read William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Robert Burns, Oscar Wilde, Jerome K. Jerome, Charlotte Bronte, Mark Twain, Jack London, Conan Doyle, James Aldridge, Jules Verne, Lewis Carroll, etc.

I want to tell you about the book, which I like very much. This book is “Gone with the Wind”. The author of the book “Gone with the Wind” is Margaret Mitchell. She was born in Atlanta in 1900. All the family were interested in American history and she grew up in an atmosphere of stories about the Civil War and of stories of staggering events of recent epoch, because her father was a chairman of local historical society. War is one of the biggest misfortunes in the life of people. Now let’s revise some historic facts. Civil War began as the result of economy fight between northern and southern states.

Northern states had preponderance – about 20 million of people against of 10 million of people and powerful industrial potential. But southern states had more talented generals and centered direction. After graduating from college Margaret Mitchell worked a little time for the Atlanta Journal. She wrote articles and stories for this journal. In 1925 she got married. In the following ten years she put on paper all the stories she had heard about Civil War. The result was “Gone with the Wind”. It was first published in 1936. In 1939 it was made into a highly successful film.

Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable played the leading roles. Vivien Leigh won the Oscar. “Gone with the Wind” is the story about Civil War. Margaret Mitchell tells about life of people at the time of this war and about all burdens, which people outlived these years. In the text we can find the description of soldiers’ live. There we can read how cried mothers and wives then they dispatched their children and husbands on the War. “Gone with the Wind” is also about a love triangle. While Scarlett loves the quiet gentleman Ashley Wilkes, the wild and decidedly ungentlemanly Rhett Butler is in love with her.

Ashley married Melanie Hamilton. After many adventures of her own, Scarlett married Rhett – but only for money. The marriage is stormly. That is why eventually Rhett walks out on her, but by the time Scarlett has realized that she loves him after all. Scarlett thinks of some way of getting him back, but we never know if she does because Margaret Mitchell died in 1949 in a car crash. After reading this production I find that it is very expressive and logical because Margaret Mitchell was a good narrator of real life’s stories. It is evidently because she dedicated lots of theme of her tales for real life.

Style of this story is particular, spontaneous, and slightly natural. I can say that author tried to comment the actions of personages, and conveyed the senses. I find out that Margaret Mitchell had a good style of the true and delicate sense when she is telling about her heroes. I consider that her mix of fantasy and truth is excellent and unforgettable. I think that there is a splendid style of small drams of our life and society. Simplicity, precision and clarity are the main qualities of her style. The main heroine is Scarlett. This is a person with powerful and pointed mind and furious thirst of life.

This is a person who соuld menage all the problems came across successfully. She was able to stand up for herself; she found a way out of unpredictable situation. It she could make much, she has proved to herself, that she can all. Being selfish on her character, she had an indestructible carriage, which was specific feature of her background. After death of mother, on her hands there was all house and members of her family. She took care of her relatives even she had to starve. The only object which helped her to survive was her Tara, her native land.

Tara was a fortress where she could not think of anything. When she stumbled into difficult situations, she recollected Tara. She saw the white house which is affably appeared through reddish autumn foliage. She felt silence of rural twilight. She remembered this shrill red ground, and gloomy dark beauty of pines on the hills. Memories of this landscape avoided her from dismal inner thought. In conclusion I would strongly recommend everybody to read this book. Such books as Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind” can be the first step for everybody to get a good hobby of reading.

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Behavioral Finance and Wealth Management

Some financial advisors are needlessly struggling with behavioral finance because they lack a systematic way to apply it to their client relationships. In my 2006 book, Behavioral Finance and Wealth Management, I outline a method of applying behavioral finance to private clients in a way that I now refer to as “bottom-up. ” This means that for financial advisors to diagnose and treat behavioral biases, he or she must first test for all behavioral biases in a client, and then determine which ones a client has before being able to use bias information to create a customized investment plan.

In my book I describe the most common behavioral biases an advisor is likely to encounter, explain how to diagnose these biases, show how to identify behavioral investor types, and finally show how to plot this information on a chart to create the client’s “best practical allocation. ” But some advisors may find this bottom-up approach too time-consuming or complex. So, I created a simpler, more efficient approach to bias identification that is “top-down,” a shortcut if you will, that can make bias identification much easier.

I call it Behavioral Alpha, and the core of this process is four behavioral investor types. Over the next four articles, we will learn the four behavioral investor types and how to deal with each of these types of investors. For readers to understand behavioral investor types, they need to get a fundamental understanding of the 20 behavioral biases I outline in my book. In this article, we will review these biases that are encountered with actual clients, with a description of the bias and a classification of whether the bias is cognitive or emotional.

Behavioral biases fall into two broad categories, cognitive and emotional, with both varieties yielding irrational judgments. A cognitive bias can be technically defined as a basic statistical, information processing, or memory error common to all human beings. They also can be thought of as “blind spots” or distortions in the human mind. Cognitive biases do not result from emotional or intellectual predisposition toward a certain judgments, but rather from subconscious mental procedures for processing information.

On the opposite side of the spectrum from illogical or distorted reasoning we have emotional biases. Although emotion is a difficult word to describe and has no single universally accepted definition, an emotion is a mental state that arises spontaneously, rather than through conscious effort. Emotions are physical expressions, often involuntary, related to feelings, perceptions or beliefs about elements, objects or relations between them, in reality or in the imagination.

Emotions can be undesired to the individual feeling them; he or she might wish to control their emotions but often cannot. Investors can be presented with emotionally based investment decisions, and may make suboptimal decisions by having emotions affect these decisions. Often, because emotional biases originate from impulse or intuition rather than conscious calculations they are difficult to correct. Emotional biases include endowment, loss aversion, and self-control.

We will investigate both cognitive and emotional biases in the next section. The distinction between cognitive and emotional is an important one, because advisors will want to advise their clients differently based on which types of biases are being acted out. In the next four articles, we will use the biases described here a lot, so I encourage readers to get to know the biases presented here in concept. We will apply them to client situations in subsequent articles.

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Coraline

Coraline is a horrific children’s book that was produced into a movie in 2009. Written by Neil Gaiman, the book was published in 2003 as juvenile fiction. Gaiman’s twisted ingenious mind has even frightened adult readers. This creepy fairy tale clearly draws much of its inspiration from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. What started out as a children’s novel became a hit movie in theaters. What is so spectacular about Coraline may be the colorful characters, the unexpected turn of events within the story, or the fact that it is the first stop(Stop? animation movie to be viewed in 3-D.

The combination of Gaiman’s story with Selick’s (who is Selick? Producer? ) talent for movie presentation has made Coraline a remarkably entrancing and horrifying fairy tale for both readers and movie watchers as they experience the entrancing adventure of a little girl who learned the price of opening a door that was not meant to be opened. Before Coraline hit the big screen it made an everlasting impression as a children’s horrific fairytale. It turns out that Coraline’s name came about because Neil Gaiman kept messing up spelling Caroline.

Reading Coraline makes it easy for the first time readers to relate to her character when they think back to their current or past adolescence. Most people would admit to times in their young lives when they were relentless pessimists and complainers, who acted bored and coughed up attitudes on a daily basis. Everyone could share Coraline’s plight when they had felt that there was nothing to do in a new house and were reluctant to meet new people. Viewers and readers alike have also felt a special connection between her family and their own.

Children always think about what the perfect mother would be like, and parents also try to be the best for their children. However, both age groups try to imagine something better. Unlike Coraline, no one had ever found a mysterious small door in the living room that led to an almost perfect alternate reality that catered to your every whim. The movie begins with viewers seeing a doll that resembles an African-American child floating into a dark house greeted by hands made out of needles.

Accompanied by the traditional chilling soundtrack that follows all Tim Burton films the doll is refashioned. Two hands disembowel a doll and then reassemble it with needle and thread. While not the most warm and fuzzy scene in any cinematic form, what makes it particularly ghoulish is the feeling that you could run your fingers through the doll’s sawdust innards and touch its button eyes” (Clark). The doll is then dressed in a yellow raincoat and blue jeans. As soon as it is finished the mysterious needle hands sends the doll out the window where it floats out in space. This is where we find out that the doll replicates our heroine Coraline Jones.

Coraline, voiced by Dakota Fanning, and her parents, voiced by Teri Hatcher and John Hodgman, had just moved into the Pink Palace, it is a pink house spilt into floors as apartments in the woodsy area of Oregon. Coraline finds the house completely droll and far from the home and friends that she knew. While she explores her new home she finds, as Pratt writes: “A [Russian Gymnast, Mr. Bobinsky, who lives in the attic] tells Coraline that he’s training his circus mice to play music, and Coraline finds him vaguely alarming, if only because she can’t tell whether he’s serious or joking.

Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, two aging former actresses, live downstairs with a coterie of Scottie dogs. The ladies are happy to dispense tea, inedible cookies, and advice, and they read Coraline’s tea leaves, which indicate that she’s in danger. ” She meets Wyborn, voiced by Robert Bailey Jr. , as Ebert describes, a “young hunchback whose full name is Wyborn, and it doesn’t take Coraline long to wonder why his parents named him that. ” Wybie had found the doll that looked just like Coraline in his grandmother’s trunk and gave it to her.

Little did Wybie know, he had given her the doll that was created in the beginning of the film, that was made by the feared Beldam, a witch. She also meets a very aloof cat that turns out to be one of her few allies in her greatest times of danger. In the living room she starts to unpack her set of snow globes, looking fondling on a winter scene in Detroit Michigan, her last home. Coraline discovers that her doll who was sitting on a chair had moved behind a box. As she retrieved the doll, it was found resting against a tiny door with a key hole on it.

Coraline begged her mother to find the key that would unlock it. Her mother reluctantly obliged and makes Coraline promise that she will stay out of her mom’s way if she did this favor for her. Coraline replies yes, eager to see what was behind the door. Her mother shuffles through keys in a drawer, picking one whose handle end was in the shape of a button. As fast as Coraline’s heart rose, it sank. There was nothing behind the door but brick walls. Later that night Coraline had been awoken by a mouse that lead her to the door, when she open it and found a long tunnel with a light at the end.

Excited for the adventure to come she crawled down the tunnel that, to her surprise, opened right into her own living room. Now though it looked like her real living room, everything was brighter and had a more welcoming atmosphere. Coraline was lured by the smell of real home cooking when she discovered her mother in the kitchen.

Pullman said, “When she discovers a sinister woman there, who looks a little like her mother but has eyes that are big black buttons, the matter-of-factness of the woman’s response when Coraline says “Who are you? ” is both disarming and terrifying. “I’m your other mother,” she says. Coraline finds out that she has other version of all the residents including her parents in the Pink Palace. Mr. Bobinsky, is a very entertaining circus ringleader with synchronized mice that are able to perform fantastical acrobats. Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible became active and energetic acrobatic performers on a massive stage where they took Coraline to partake in swinging from high wire swings above the crowd of terrier dogs below. Even Wybie, her newest friend is a double that mysteriously doesn’t talk. The Other Mother told Coraline that she felt she would enjoy him more that way.

This perfect world that she finds changes her entire perspective on the life that she knew on the other side of the door. Her real parents were busy working for a plant publishing journal, while her other parents were tentative, caring, expressive, and just plain fun. But Coraline learns eventually that even though her other home seems perfect, there is something very peculiar and dark that lurks beneath the button eyes of all the people she meets. Button eyes are a great symbolism in Coraline. These buttons represents not having a soul. Coraline’s other mother turns out to be this cruel creature, he Beldam, who lures children through the secret door.

She creates this perfect world for the child, giving them everything they wanted, promising to love them, and the only way a child could stay in this wonderful world is to have their eyes sewn shut and replaced with buttons. Once Coraline is told of this offer by her other mother, she realizes that her other mother’s intentions are hardly loving or parental. Collins writes, “Coraline meets the ghosts of several other children who had been kidnapped hundreds of years ago, and she realizes that her both her body and spirit are in danger. Coraline discovers that the black cat that has been lurking around the premises is able to talk to her in the other world.

He gives Coraline clues for her to realize that everything is not as it seems. To viewers he would be related to the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. The cat tells Coraline that in order to set her parents free and the souls of the three children that she must challenge her to a game. Vejvoa said, “She has to muster the strength and courage to confront and defeat her monstrous Other Mother is she’s to rescue her real parents and get back to where she truly belongs.

Her Other Mother cannot refuse any game as long as she thinks that she can win. Coraline is clever enough to come up with a game where she must look through the house and garden to find all the souls and eyes of the children before the lunar eclipse or she will give up her soul to the Other Mother. Coraline faces three dangers in three wonders that her other mother had created for her. Each of the children’s eyes were trapped in three different objects. The first soul was found in the garden where her other father had sacrificed himself for her to retrieve the soul.

The second soul was found on the stage of the two actresses. The third was found in the dark and eerie mice circus tent. Once every soul was collected, Coraline had only to find her parents, who were trapped in a snow globe.. It came to the final task, defeating the witch. What used to looked so much like her real mother stood, a skeletal, towering, spider like woman that was anything but motherly. Coraline tricked her other mother to open the small door between home and the created world. As fast as she could react, Coraline tossed the cat at the Other Mother and she made a run for the door with all of the souls.

The Other Mother broke free from the cat and chased after her through the tunnel. Coming through the door Coraline used all of her strength to shut it completely. But the Other Mother had her hand stuck then torn off from her wrists landing on the floor. The hand had disappeared, and the souls were set free. Although the souls and her parents were free the Other Mother’s needle hand was still at large and wanted the key to the door at all costs because there was only one. Everything seemed normal until Coraline decided to throw the key to the door away.

She trekked to the well where she approached the opening of the well. Out of nowhere the Other Mother’s hand leaps out to grab the key, but since it is on a string wrapped around Coraline’s neck, she was being choked until Wybie had crushed the hand with a huge rock. The hand is tied within the blanket with the string holding the key and is thrown down the well. After vanquishing the Other Mother, all of the lost souls of the children were set free. The movie ends with Coraline and her parents hosting a garden party in which they had finally started planting and creating a beautiful atmosphere.

Here all of her neighbors, Wybie, and Wybie’s grandmother come to gather. Coraline tells Wybie’s grandmother of what happened in the house and how she saved her twin sister’s soul. Coraline is no longer as pessimistic or as unpleasant when she started her adventure. The movie ends with a chilling song of children voices that makes viewers get the shivers when they recall the scariest moments. This film was hailed by all age groups, and more so towards the adult crowds. According to Ebert, “this is a movie for people who know and care about drawing, caricature, grotesquerie and the far shores of storytelling.

In short, you might care little about a fantasy, little indeed about this story, and still admire the artistry of it all, [it] gets under our psychic fingernails. ” Coraline is certainly a darker version of a family film when compared to Disney, but that is what makes it much more intense and rememerable. Cinema reviewer, Kernion said: “It isn’t gory or excessively violent (certainly not as much as Prince Caspian), but there are some pretty frightening threats, and the peril that main characters often face can seem real and intense.

It’s similar in tone at times to Spirited Away — if you think your kids can handle the Miyazaki film, they should be fine with Coraline. ” However, not all viewers and critics were impressed with the big hit movie. Jim Vejvoda, said, “a story where a mother plucks out kids’ eyes and replaces them with buttons or sews their mouths shut might be a wee bit too torture prone for some members of toon-going crowd to stomach. ” A movie blogger, Sean, said, “Coraline really clicked for me.

It takes a while to get rolling, but once the twist is revealed and we understand the true extent of Coraline’s predicament, it’s hard not to be completely absorbed. The storytelling is on par with a Pixar film, or even Guillermo Del Toro’s critically-acclaimed Pan’s Labyrinth. ” When comments were all said and done about the actual story, critics, and movie goers alike were both please and displeased when it came to the 3-D presentation of the film. 3-D films have become very popular in our recent movie viewing trend, however Henry Selick, the movie director, doesn’t want audiences to focus on the 3-D.

According to Clark, “3-D is just a means to end, to showcase the medium he loves to work in: stop-motion animation, in which the hands and every other part of the characters in the movie are manipulated frame by frame to achieve movement and expression and to tell a story. ” Selick has previously been honored for directing, The Nightmare Before Christmas. Coraline racked up a total of $60 million dollars for the stop motion animation to come to life via 3-D.

Coraline has entranced and horrified both readers and movie watchers through the eyes of a once very unpleasant girl who learned the cost of being careful what she wished for. Neil Gaiman’s way of putting a twist on this story is what makes Coraline so chilling and mesmerizing. Coraline’s story is truly frightening, and Gaiman goes to great lengths to forge an ‘other’ mother world where every aspect of our lives is perverted and twisted into the macabre” (Collins). He teaches us that even though children, even adults, who think that the grass is greener on the other side, don’t know what they have until they lose it.

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Helter Skelter Book Report

The year was 1969, and in early August seven people were brutally murdered; words like “Pig,” “Healter Skelter” and “Rise” were found printed in blood at the crime scenes. Eventually it is discovered that the perpetrators of these horrific crimes are cult members living on the outskirts of society, led by a man named Charles Manson. But who is Charles Manson? Charles Manson is a monster, certainly, but as a monster he offers us a unique look into the human mind. This semester we have learned about the many different types of people who may engage in individual forms of interpersonal violence.

Charles Manson however, provides us the case study of a man whose life revolved around interpersonal violence in all its manifestations. There was nothing this man wouldn’t do to reach his goals – he would rape, murder, manipulate, and lie – all in the name of his personal ambitions. In Vincent Bugliosi’s book, Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders, the reader is provided a thorough explanation of how Manson developed his criminal lifestyle though the focus is on the famous murders he helped to commit as the leader of The Family and the process used to convict him.

After a brief comment about the book as a whole and its writing style and content, Manson’s connections to the subject of interpersonal violence will be examined. These connections include the subjects of child neglect, rape, domestic violence, and spiritual abuse. This book offers a huge amount of detail regarding how the Manson Family murders were committed, how the investigation proceeded and how the trial against Manson was won.

To bring this history to life, Bugliosi organized his book into chapters ranging from one month to five month increments which serve to place the reader back in the summer of ’69 right after the Tate murders were committed, and take him or her all the way to the conclusion of the trial and its aftermath. While this level of detail and careful organization is very good at informing the reader of the details of Manson’s crimes and how he got convicted, I believe that most important is the analysis of Manson’s life in regards to interpersonal violence.

Therefore, I will focus only on the summary of Manson’s life provided in the book, as well as his methods for building and controlling his Family. Since this book was written by a lawyer (Mr. Bugliosi was the prosecuting attorney in the Manson case), one might think that Helter Skelter might be rather boring i. e. totally fact driven and concerned with the technical aspects of the Manson trial as Mr. Bugliosi experienced them. This book is certainly very concerned with the facts, and Bugliosi even provides the time that many events took place. The police investigation is especially explicit in this regard.

For example, “about 1:30 that afternoon Lieutenant Burdick interviewed a girl who had been booked under the name Leslie Sankston,” (p. 121). This aspect of the book can be hard to get through at times, as there is a large cast of characters including suspects, law enforcement officials, witnesses and other ancillary characters whose actions and influences on the case are laid out in careful detail. It can be difficult to keep track of who provided what evidence or which Manson family member was or wasn’t involved in the group’s actions (to make matters worse many of the Family have multiple aliases and nicknames).

However, despite some factual overload, Bugliosi does add some comments which add flavor and help the reader to understand what the murders meant for people living around Los Angeles at the time. For example, Bugliosi talks quite about how the general public and the media react to the murders, including details such as, “one Beverly Hills sporting goods store sold 200 firearms; prior to the murders, they averaged three or four a day,” (p. 73).

This color commentary lifts the reader’s head out of the world of the murder investigation to remind them that outside of all this tragedy people were living their ordinary lives, and were obviously scared and nervous about the violence they saw happening in their city. Another interesting aspect of the story is the fact that while this book is in a way a history book looking at the past, Bugliosi actually experienced this history and provides his own emotional reactions to what happened.

For example, when Bugliosi read Manson’s file to understand who he was about to prosecute he commented, “I was surprised, in studying Manson’s record, to find no sustained history of violence,” (p. 203). While the reader might disagree with Bugliosi (it seems that instances of armed robbery, homosexual rape and wife beating could be considered a “sustained history”), these personal reactions to what is going on show the reader that Bugliosi is not merely an author or a historian, but a character in this story who experienced all the madness revolving around Charles Manson first hand.

Therefore, while Helter Skelter might be considered very fact-driven it certainly has a heart, and Mr. Bugliosi does an excellent job describing not only exactly how the investigation went, but also how it felt for some of the people involved. Anyone interested in interpersonal violence, the 60s or Charles Manson will certainly have learnt a great deal after finishing this book. As I’ve said previously, the life of Charles Manson revolved around interpersonal violence. From an early age Manson was the victim of child neglect – his mother (Kathleen Maddox) would leave him with neighbors, “for an hour, then disappear for days or weeks,” (p. 91).

While there is no evidence provided that Manson was actually abused during these days away from his mother, the lack of any strong parental figures to care for him must have been traumatizing for Manson. Kathleen was sixteen when Charles was born, and was known to drink and party, often bringing home men with the same proclivities. She was also a very poor model for her son when it came to following the law. Along with her brother Luther, Kathleen was sentenced to five years in prison for armed robbery when Charles was between four and five years old.

Manson never met his father who is said to have died in 1954. Considering his upbringing, it is not surprising that the boy had trouble adjusting properly, and that his struggle to be noticed and gain attention would be at the core of his being. When Manson was twelve his mother sent him away to the Gibault School for Boys, described as a “caretaking institution,” (p. 191) because she could no longer to care for him. From this point on Charles Manson would be in and out of institutions (including prison).

When the investigations for the Tate-LaBianca murders were taking place Manson was thirty-two years old and had spent over seventeen of those years in some form of institution. During the time Manson was incarcerated personality examinations were conducted and various descriptions warn of the possibility of violence. Manson was described as being, “aggressively antisocial,” (p. 193) having, “a tendency toward moodiness,” (p. 192) and as, “hiding his loneliness, resentment, and hostility behind a facade of superficial ingratiation,” (p. 00).

These examinations and their conclusions will be very important when considering what could have been done to stop Manson and what we as a society can do to ensure no one like him is ever allowed to terrorize others again. The acts of interpersonal violence Manson committed during his time in and out of institutions are numerous. When Manson was seventeen he attended Natural Bridge Camp and a month before his release hearing he, “took a razor blade and held it against another boy’s throat while he sodomized him,” (p. 194).

However, this did not stop Manson from being released and he promptly married a waitress and got her pregnant (he was 19). A year later however, he was in trouble with the law for stealing cars (and driving them across state lines – a federal offense) and admitted to the judge-requested psychiatrist that he beat his wife, “at times,” (p. 196). After three years in jail, Manson was released with five years parole (the year was 1958). In 1959, Manson’s parole officer was informed by a parent that Manson had conned his daughter (Jo Anne) and one of her friends (Beth), telling them he was in the night club, radio and television business.

Manson convinced Jo Anne to invest her savings in his bogus company, got her pregnant (there was no mention if the sex was consensual), and drugged and raped Beth as well (p. 199). For violating his probation as well as these new sexual crimes he was accused of committing Manson was sentenced to 10 years in prison (although he was paroled on March 21, 1967). It was after this stint in prison that Manson began to bring his “Family” together and it was with them that he truly began to explore his appetite for violence through the use of spiritual abuse.

The Manson Family at first glance may not seem different from many of the communes that had come together in the 60s, representing a desire for sexual liberation and a more natural way of living. However, the Family was not simply a commune, but a cult whose idea of a more natural way of life included violence, submission and eventually control over the world as the, “pure, white master race,” (p. 330). To members of the family Charles Manson was Jesus Christ or God, and these were the aliases that Charlie Manson provided the police when he was charged for the car theft ring (p. 80).

Manson always had a desire for attention and to feel noticed and important, and it was through his creation of his own religion that he could finally get what he always wanted. Unfortunately for his acolytes, Manson’s appetite for violence and abuse only escalated once he had a multitude of willing victims under his control. It may seem odd that people would want to join such an abusive group, but Manson had various means to attract people to his Family. To convince men to join him Manson would use the sexual favors of the girls already under his control.

For example, when trying to attract a biker from the Straight Satans gang to join him, Manson is quoted as saying, “Move up here, you can have all the girls you want, all the girls,” (p. 131). To get girls to join Manson would ask for the help of some of the more attractive men in the Family to, “go down to the Sunset Strip, where the teenyboppers hung out,” or “drive the highways watching for girls who were hitchhiking,” (p. 317) in the hope that they would be able to lure some of the girls back to the ranch the Family was living on.

Once these new recruits were introduced to the Family, Manson had a variety of techniques he would use to control them. Manson was said to have possessed an ability to capitalize on, “a person’s hang-ups and/or desires,” (p. 316). He told plain girls they were beautiful, told girls with daddy issues to imagine that he was their father, and girls looking for a leader that he was Jesus Christ. To ensure that the girls were completely submissive Manson would convince them that, “women are only as good as their men,” and that they were “a reflection of their men,” (p. 02).

This is obviously ideal for a cult leader because Manson portrayed himself as the father of the Family and their savior. Since “their man” was so good, these girls felt that they were good, and that Manson would lead them to salvation and love. This mixture of brainwashing and domination produced in the girls, “a little girl quality” as if they had been, “retarded at a certain stage in their childhood,” (p. 184-185). Even when considering murder and death the girls would maintain a positive, contented mood, as if nothing could faze them.

Manson did not just use words to bring about total obedience however. One thirteen-year-old girl was not considered “submissive enough” for Manson so he, “punched her in the mouth; kicked her across a room; hit her over the head with a chair leg,” (p. 277). This was not entirely typical of Manson though as his favorite weapons of control consisted of using or withholding sex (especially with the male Family members), as well as drug-aided manipulation. LSD is a hallucinogenic drug which can make the one taking it more susceptible to outside influence.

Manson used this property to, “instill his philosophies, exploit weaknesses and fears, and extract promises and agreements from his followers,” (p. 318) while they were “tripping” on LSD (which he provided of course). Manson’s “religion” that he would con his followers into believing was based on a mixture of Scientology, passages from the Bible, Buddhism and records by the Beatles. While it is difficult to decipher exactly how this philosophy all fit together, one important element that aided in the control of the Family was fear.

According to Manson, “fear was the same thing as awareness,” (p. 319) and the goal (as in many religions or philosophies) is to gain more awareness, or to come into the “Now,” which is a term taken from Scientologists and basically means to truly live “in the moment. ” Manson told Family members that they should always be afraid, and he would search out his followers’ greatest fears so that he could use these fears, “like a magic button…he could push at will to control that person,” (p. 319).

This aspect of the Manson cult is so important to understand because it explains why Manson had such a strong following. Even though many of his Family members were afraid of him, Manson told them that they wanted to be afraid so they took it as a good thing. Another important aspect of Manson’s beliefs that is very important for understanding the murders he would later commit was his interpretation of a chapter in the Bible from Revelations. Revelations tells of the four horsemen of the apocalypse who were foretold to arrive on earth to bring about a war where a third of mankind would perish.

Manson believed that these four horsemen were the Beatles rock group, and therefore the apocalypse was happening soon if not immediately. Manson believed there was going to be a race war (blacks vs. whites) in which the whites would be wiped out (the third of mankind that will perish) and the only way to escape it was to hide out in the desert where he could later return with his Family where they would rule over the remaining blacks as the master race. The murders that Manson and his followers committed were meant to spark this race war, and move Manson’s plan into action.

Although this sounds quite unbelievable, the combination of LCD, naivete (some of the Family members were fed these theories since they were thirteen), and the time period allowed Manson to assemble quite a sizable group. While it is estimated that there may have been over a hundred Family members at various times, the inner circle remained at around 20-30 people (p. 186). The Family was Manson’s “greatest” creation. While previously Manson could only abuse one or two people at a time, he found a way to simultaneously abuse dozens of people – all without the knowledge of society as a whole.

A lot of research has been done in the field of interpersonal violence since the time of the Manson murders. There are more accepted theories explaining why people commit acts of interpersonal violence and there are more tested methods of how to recognize people or situations that may become abusive. It is clear just how far things have progressed when the ease of which Charles Manson is labeled as the monster he is and the multiple warning signs that appear when looking at his life and personality.

Many of Manson’s personality traits match with those suggested by Rosenbaum, Pagelow and/or Anderson, including “violence in family of origin,” (although there is no explicit information about physical abuse, Manson was neglected and rejected by his mother) “low self esteem,” (Manson had a drive to be recognized by others) “traditionalist, authoritarian personalities, need for power or control” (the way Manson ran his Family is clear evidence of this) as well as “moody,” (mentioned in institutional personality checks of Manson) and “psychopathology,” (Wallace, Roberson, p. 22 Table 9. 1).

Although there is no single accepted checklist for traits of an abuser, Manson would be identified as an abuser using three different (though overlapping) scales. If these types of measurements had been available in Manson’s early years, he may have been discovered and possibly could have been treated when he was 19 (when he abused his first wife) instead of being released from prison after a few short years with no rehabilitation and allowed to continue his patterns of abuse.

The tactics Manson used to control the Family are also very well documented in today’s research of intimate partner abuse. For example, three main elements in any abuse situation are fear, isolation and lack of resources (Wallace, Roberson, p. 225). Manson’s “religion” was based on making his followers as afraid as possible, and having an intimate knowledge of each member’s fears so that they could be used against them when needed.

While many of the Family members appeared to radiate inner contentment, there were several former members of the Family that testified in the Manson case that would talk about how afraid they were of what Manson would do to them if they disobeyed his commands. Isolation was obviously an important part of Manson’s philosophy as he was very against the “establishment” and saw the apocalypse fast approaching therefore he took his family to the desert and for most of the time the Family was together they lived on Spahn’s ranch, which was an old western movie set that had allen into disrepair.

Once in this isolated location Manson had free reign to manipulate and abuse his followers with no one to stop him. Lack of resources could be said to apply to all the members of the Family as they were living the hippie lifestyle with no real employment prospects. However, this is important when considering that very few of the Family members left Manson, especially his “inner circle. ” Although Manson might have been abusive and demanding in many ways, he appeared to have a plan and an answer for life’s tough questions.

With no better prospects and no real way to successfully fend for themselves, it is no surprise that many of the women especially did not leave (they were taught they were only good as their man after all – what would they do with no man? ). With more knowledge about what can cause abusive situations as well as increased awareness among the general population I am hopeful that a situation like the one that developed in the California desert will not happen again, and if it does hopefully it will be quickly identified and shut down.

Sexual assault is a common factor in many of the different topics in interpersonal violence including rape, intimate partner abuse and child abuse. There is evidence that Manson participated in all of these facets of sexual assault. Although I’ve already mentioned how he has raped (Beth in 1959) and used sex as a means of control (with the female Family members), he also engaged in child sexual abuse.

One thirteen year old girl was sodomized by Manson as other Family members looked on as part of her initiation (p. 18). Manson’s motives for sexual assault are easy to match up with the category of “power rape” given in Wallace and Roberson’s text book on family violence. Power rapes (specifically power-assertive rapists) consider rape as, “an expression of his virility, mastery and dominance,” (p. 342). Clearly Manson desired attention, obedience and wanted control over his victims, that being the same way he ran his Family. By controlling what others did sexually Manson was able to feel in control of them.

Clearly Manson was not interested in his followers as people, but merely puppets from which he could get what he wanted. When considering the scope of the spiritual abuse that Manson perpetrated on his followers, it is important to consider his authoritarian personality and his need for attention and control. Manson’s philosophy was all there was for the Family – there was no adding elements to it or putting a personal spin on the information. As one Family member put it, “everything was done at Charlie’s direction,” (p. 317).

Therefore, when examining some of the questions Wallace and Roberson’s book offer as means of determining if a religious group is abusive, the answers to them are uniformly “no. ” For example, “Does the group allow for development in theological beliefs? ” “Does the group foster relationships and connections with the larger society that are more than self-serving? or the question most indicative of the abusive situation happening at Spahn ranch, “Does the group encourage independent thinking and the development of discernment skills? (Wallace and Roberson, p. 327).

While Manson did not demand any of his followers kill themselves as is the pattern in many cults, his motives were just as sinister. Manson’s goal was to survive the apocalypse to be the leader of the master white race. With the help of his Family Manson wanted to go from the leader of 30-40 hippies to the leader of the whole world. Luckily his means of obtaining this goal were not as grand as the goal itself and eventually landed him in jail, far away from impressionable minds to warp and twist.

Charles Manson is an interesting man in that he offers us the opportunity to see how a human being can transform himself into an animalistic monster if society turns a blind eye. Even though Manson proved from an early age that he was violent and had no respect for authority or law, he was repeatedly let out to wreak havoc on society. Charles Manson’s masterpiece was a sadistic, brainwashing cult which twisted the minds of dozens of young people, made them experiences the horror of abuse, physical, emotional and sexual, and finally ended in the deaths of at least nine people.

What Manson really gives us is a reason to continue the fight against interpersonal violence. As a society we must never again allow such a person to freely exist among us. People with these types of violent tendencies must be identified, understand and if at all possible, rehabilitated. If rehabilitation is not possible then the proper steps must be taken to ensure that such an abusive person is never allowed access to another victim.

While people often think that interpersonal violence isn’t their problem because they haven’t personally experienced it, Charles Manson shows just how ignorant this opinion is. While Manson may have been “someone else’s problem” before he started the family, it was still one man that shocked and frightened an entire state, and made the entire country take notice. With our increased understanding we now that the ability to fight to insure that nothing like the Manson Family will be allowed to exist unchecked again.

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Case Study Lonely

1. Prepare a report in which you analyze the marketing channel conflicts and cannibalization issues that Lonely Planet faces as it is currently operating. Suggest solutions that might reduce revenue losses or operational frictions that result from these issues. Channel Conflict: when sales through the company’s web site interfere with sales in that company’s retail stores. The potential for significant channel conflict exists in Lonely Planet with the same product (books or content) being sold via multiple channel.

Lonely Planet has worked hard to minimize channel conflict by selling books on their website only at the recommended retail price, therefore it does not undercutting their retail resellers. Moreover, most retailers hold only a small selection of the five hundred Lonely Planet titles, and for the many titles they do not hold, channel conflict is minimal. The CitySync product is also carefully positioned to reduce channel conflict, since it targets a specific segment (time-poor, cash-rich travelers) with a new offering that is somewhat different from the existing Lonely Planet city guidebooks.

However, over time there may be some conflict between CitySync and products such as customized guidebooks. Cannibalization: The loss of traditional sales of a product to its electronic counterpart. The well-known travel guides company, Lonely Planet gives a lot of guides for free on its website. A few years ago, many major travel-guide publishers were concerned that Lonely Planet website will hurt their sales. If travelers have to travel on board, they could just go on the website in order to read all the information they need without buying the Lonely Planet travel guide paper version.

But far from cannibalizing sales instead, the net has helped publishers build their brands and expand into new territory. Moreover, giving information on its own website is a way to do free advertising. Without this display of guides on the website, customer would not have bought the travel guide paper version. Lonely Planet and other leading publishers have recorded growth rates of 15% to 25% per year over the past four years, as much as their guidebook content has migrated online.

2. Prepare a list of a new products that Lonely Planet might introduce to take advantage of Internet technologies (including wireless technologies for mobile devices) and address customer’s concerns about the timeliness and currency of information in the printed travel guides. Briefly describe any problems that Lonely Planet will face as it introduces these new products. In 2008, Lonely Planet launched Pick & Mix which enables travelers to go to a section of the Lonely Planet Website ( http://shop.lonelyplanet.com), select the country or region to which they are travelling and download the chapter for the place they are visiting. Rather than carry loose pages, chapters (served as PDF files) can be downloaded into a hand-held device or e-book reader. Interactive e-book travel guides:

Emerging the best of both medium – digital and print – into one interactive ebook guide. Lonely Planet introduced e-books on ipad, so the layout and design is to flip through a guidebook and includes signature stunning images, expert author content and tips from local. Unlike traditional print guide book, the digital format allows to include over 3,000 hyperlinks so readers can get to a particular chapter or map with just a tap of a finger. Thus, travelers can get information on a particular region, point of interest or hotel/ restaurant without flipping through the pages. More, travelers can search terms in Google or Wikipedia for additional content.

Travelers can also bookmark the places they don’t want to miss and make notes on the page, just like a print guidebook. Usually traditional publishing cycle for the print guides is every 2 years, but with e-books, it will be updated in a real time. However, unlike apps, ebook updates are not pushed out to end user, and readers will have the opportunity to repurchase the new edition. In addition, due to handheld’s limited memory and bandwidth, the new applications focus on cities, not countries.

They obviously can not replace a guidebook for a month-long odyssey in Thailand or an exploration of Italy’s Amalfi Coast.  But for the traveler who wants to figure out how to spend a free afternoon or where to go for dinner, these mobile guides – plus a good map are ideal substitutes for printed guides. Lonely Planet therefore should continue to invest in product development to work with the likes of Apple, Google, Amazone, Nokia, etc.

3. Many loyal Lonely Planet customers carry their travel guides (which can be several hundred pages thick) with them as they travel around the world. In many cases, these customers do not use large portions of the travel guides. Also, Internet access can be a problem for many of these customers while they are travelling. Describe a product (or products) that might address this customer concern and also yield additional revenue for Lonely Planet. Your answer here could build on ideas that you developed in your solution to part2. By using interactive ebook travel guides, travelers doing longer trips do not need to carry three or four guidebooks during travelling. Travelers can buy the content directly and save it in their hand-held or ebook before they are going to travel on board if the current destination does not provide good internet connection. It is also an ease to carry around. Moreover, travelers can bookmark the places they don’t want to miss and make notes on the page, just like a print guidebook.

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Free Essays

The Return of Martin Guerre

The purpose of this paper is to introduce, discuss, and analyze the book “The Return of Martin Guerre” by Natalie Zamon Davis. Specifically, it will discuss the life of the peasant during the Middle Ages. This book is a fascinating account of a true case that happened during the 16th century in France. The book is also an excellent example of how the peasants lived in the Middle Ages, from what they ate, to how they traveled and what their family lives were like. This book shows that life in the Middle Ages was difficult and demanding, but it seems a little bit peaceful and serene, too.

The main occupations were farming and raising sheep or goats, and there were tradesman in the villages who worked for a living, such as a shoemaker, a blacksmith, and such. Martin Guerre and his family were tile makers, but they also farmed and raised sheep to become relatively prosperous in their small village (Davis 14). The peasants were uneducated, (the Guerre’s town did not even have a schoolmaster), and most could not read, and could only write a small amount (Davis 15).

They also married their children off very young, and often made matches for them. Martin Guerre married when he was only fourteen, and his wife was even younger (Davis 16). Life revolved around the village, the church, and the family, and it was a very busy but seemingly contented lifestyle. Their main concerns were the family and simple survival. Everything they did was to feed and clothe the family, from raising grains and grapes to raising sheep so they could spin the wool into cloth and clothe the family members.

When they became more successful, it was to make money and rise up in stature in the village community, but peasants who did not have trades worked the land for their own survival. They were also extremely close-knit families, often living nearby each other, so family was important for them, as well. They worked together as a family, and widows lived with one of the grown sons, creating an extended family unit. Family relationships were important in this society, and they were the source of land and dowries for the children, which were very important at the time.

In the Basque country, families often lived together, as the author notes, “When a household is set up with two generations of married folk, it is not the Basque combination of the old heir and the young heir, but a widowed parent, usually the mother, with one of her married children” (Davis 11). Even when Martin’s uncle married, he moved nearby to another house, and lived close to his relatives. Martin returned with his bride to his father’s house after they married, and lived with his family under one roof (Davis 18).

Since their main concern was survival and perpetuation of the family, this indicates how important family life was to the peasants. Women had a lesser position than men did in the society. Davis writes, “At the parish mass, she would have to get used to the fact that her women did not push ahead of the men to make their offerings, did not go about the church to collect for the vestry, and din not serve as sacristans” (Davis 15). Women were also blamed for a man’s impotence, as Davis notes. She writes, “In the sixteenth century, it was usually blamed on the power of a woman outside the marriage” (Davis 21).

The fact that Martin abandoned his wife and newborn son after eight years of marriage shows what low status women had in society. She had no recourse, she lived in a foreign household, and she could not even remarry. Girls were not educated; instead, they learned “women’s work” like spinning and cooking, and they were always at the mercy of their husbands. Davis writes, “First a world where organizational structure and public identity were associated exclusively with males” (Davis 29). The women worked in the fields, helped raise the livestock, served as midwives, cooked and baked.

They were essential to everyday life in the peasant world, but they held no rights or privileges. The only women that really rose up in society were the widows, who could earn the respect of others and wield “informal power” (Davis 31). Armand Du Tilh was able to get away with his deception for several reasons. First, he resembled Guerre enough that people mistook him for the missing man (Davis 39). Next, he learned all he could about the missing man so that he could fool Martin’s family into believing he was actually Guerre.

Davis writes, “He informed himself as cunningly as he could about Martin Guerre, his situation, his family, and the things he used to say and do” (Davis 39). He also grew a beard to hide any differences in his face, and took great pains to learn the villagers’ names and how he interacted with them when he had lived in the village before. In short, he learned every detail about Martin Guerre’s life, and convinced people he was Martin because of all the details he seemed to “recall” about his prior life.

Davis believes that he was accepted because people wanted him to come back for all those years, and that he came “announced” as Martin Guerre, and so people wanted to believe it was true (Davis 43). Most of all, Bertrande’s acceptance of the new Martin helped soothe the minds of others. It is easy to see why Bertrande would accept the imposter. Davis writes, “What Bertrande had with the new Martin was her dream come true, a man she could live in peace and friendship (to cite sixteenth-century values) and in passion” (Davis 44).

They also seemed to have become very attached to each other in their new life together. In conclusion, this book is a fascinating story of deception and betrayal, but it is a fascinating glimpse into the everyday life of the sixteenth-century peasant, as well. The book shows how families lived, survived, and even thrived, how women were treated in society, how important the Church was to so many aspects of life, and how difficult life was for many peasants. It is a good book to read to learn the more intimate details of life in the Middle Ages.

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Free Essays

Life of Pi book

In the book, Life of Pi[1], Yann Martel proposes many religious differences, and similarities from religions located around the world. These questions ask such things as, is it possible to be a multi-religion person? Are all religions different? How are some religions the same? Life of Pi was written in 2002 and is a fascinating story of how a young man, Pi Patel, makes it in a world with his own personal beliefs. He adopts the three major religions of the world being Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam.Life of Pi is a very questioning book at times and has the capability of persuading nonbelievers to re-evaluate their religious thought process and beliefs. After reading this book you will be comfortable in the knowledge that you will have on other religions, and just may judge them differently. One of the questions that surfaces in this book is “can a person believe in more than one religion? ” The author uses the Christian, Islam, and Hindu religions all in one character to represent the different struggles that Pi Patel is facing within him self, just as animals were used as symbolic representation for people in the first story.

As for the question itself, a person cannot believe in more than one religion at a time. This is shown when the three holy men meet Pi in the park and they argue over his religious practices. While arguing Pi’s father reminds the three holy men that “there is freedom for practice of whatever religion in this country”[2]. The holy men screamed in unison, “Yes! Practice-singular”[3]. This point supports how even the three major holy religions of the world believe that you can only have one. However, it is possible for people to change religions throughout their lives.

As religions are faith based through personal convictions that come from within, you have purpose in what you believe, and therefore are only able to believe in one at a time. To say you believe in Christianity and Hinduism would be like saying you are both a communist and a progressive conservative, which are different philosophies. You have to choose one religion or another, just as in this story you need to believe the first story or the second story, and you cannot believe that both of these events occurred. A person cannot believe two tales of the same legend.

The second story with people resembles culture within North America and how everything in the North American world is looked at as bare facts. Most people only believe things that they can see with there own eyes, or feel with there own hands. Starting from our education as children, to jobs in adulthood, knowledge of bare facts measures how much we are capable of doing. In math you add numbers that have relevance to our society, in science pre-determined experiments with actions or re-actions occur, as well as predictions and conclusions. Everything MUST have an answer.

If there is a topic to which we do not have an answer we dig for scientific answers, and refuse to accept folk tales or stories from higher powers. In an area of the world with steadily declining religious numbers[4], we need to exercise our faith and imaginations. We all need to have an open and searching mind like that of a younger child. Pi Patel shows just how blunt and “factual”[5] North America people are by telling the second story, including the murder of people on a lifeboat. Murder is something we can all relate to, thus making the second story “the right story”[6] to most people.

After the second story of realism, many people feel the first story to be a waste of time, showing again just how North American people struggle to explore the imaginative or symbolic side of things. Everybody justifies their respective view by saying, “that’s not even possible”[7] or “I’d have to see it to believe it”[8]. The first and second story connects in a way of showing resemblances between the two major religions of the world, Christianity and Islam. The purpose of this is to show how alike Islam followers are to Christian followers.

They share most of the same religious views, with very minor differences in stories of interpretations. They also share many of the same characters, such as Jesus, who is God’s son. Jesus sends messages from God and heals people in Christianity, and in Islam a prophet shares the word of God. These two parts in the story show just how different the two religions are, yet are so similar. The first story also shows how, in the eastern world, the people are much more imaginative, by using Hindu and its animals to add a twist to create the first story.

It uses the animals to also describe the real people that were on the boat such as the Orangutan, Pi’s mother. In Hindu a person who is caring and involved in religious studies has the possibility of becoming a monkey after death[9]. Pi’s mom was a very caring person who was against the eating of the zebra, or the young sailor. A zebra is looked at as an honest, friendly, and creative person because of his stripes[10]. By using these animals he is trying to show just how North American culture is so bare factual. This story parallels our own personal internal struggles as well as the struggles of different cultures and religions in the world.

We begin to understand we have to ultimately face and deal with our own struggles, allowing us to come to terms with our own beliefs, where we are at in our own lives and how we fit into our culture. This story could be interpreted with different meanings by different people, but ultimately causes the kind of thought that moves us forward in terms of who we will become. The purpose of this story is to show the similarities of some religions, and also to show that the things that are different, are not so different after all. This is a book attempting to change minds on religious discrimination and indifferences.

Reference

http://www.religioustolerance.org/chr_prac2.htm

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My Oedipus Complex by Frank O’Connor

“My Oedipus Complex” by Frank O’Connor “My Oedipus Complex” is a story about a young boy of 5, Larry, who grows up in his own safe world with just himself and his mother. He is attached to his mother and wants her to belong only to him and considers his father a rival ? for her attention. However, when his father returns from WWI, a man whom Larry hardly knows, it is a constant battle between the two for the mother’s love and attention.

Larry is jealous of losing his mother’s undivided attention, and finds himself in a constant struggle to win back her affections. There are tree main characters in the story: Larry, his mother and father. Larry is a creative and imaginative boy. He gives his legs names Mrs. Right and Mrs. Left and invent „dramatic situations for them in which they discussed the problems of the day. “ They discuss what mother and he „should do during the day and what presents Santa Claus should give a fellow for Christmas.

He is full of joy, “feeling rather like the sun, ready to illuminate and rejoice. ” He is a kind-hearted boy, thinking about his mo…. The novel My Oedipus Complex written by the famous Irish short storywriter Frank O’Conner, in my opinion, is more a spiritual exploration of the problems of youth and growing-up than just a simple story told by a little kid. The dramatic experience of Larry (both the narrator and the protagonist of the novel) seems to be the representation of part of our childhood stories.

So let me have a brief analysis of the theme of the passage by looking into Larry’s character and what Larry went through in his heart in this story. While his father was fighting in the WW1 and rarely went back home, Larry was enjoying himself and relishing all of his mother’s attention and care, just as what he said in the third paragraph—“the war was the most peaceful period of my life”.

However, things started to turn bad when his father came back and stayed at home: his mum’s love for him was shared by a “stranger”, he was told to shut up when the “stranger” was either talking or sleeping, and perhaps worst of all, he forfeited the right of climbing into the big bed and sharing his schemes with his mum every morning. These changes so upset and saddened him that, eventually, the boy became rebellious and declare an “open and avowed” war against his father, in which the two just contended for the mother’s attentions and care.

As we know, to Larry’s disappointment, however hard he tried or whatever he did, he proved to be always on the disadvantaged side in the “war”. Then the author depicted an interesting dialogue between Larry and his mother, which may be construed as a reflection of the title “My Oedipus Complex”, but, according to me, it also perfectly reveals a change and maturation of Larry’s inner heart, for to be a husband means loads of responsibilities. What brought about the next big change in this family as well as the climax of the story was the birth of little sonny.

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Raising My Voice by Malalai Joya

The book I studied is “Raising my voice” by Malalai Joya. This is the extraordinary story of the award winning Afghan woman who dares to speak out. She was born in Western Afghanistan. Three days after she was born, a soviet-backed coup changed her life forever. Within a year, Afghanistan was an occupied country, and she says “since then war is all we Afghans have known. ” (p. 7, 2009) Her childhood was spent in refugee camps in Iran and Pakistan. Her family were forced to leave Afghanistan to avoid the war. This was not a welcoming experience.

“Afghans were seen as second-class humans by the Iranian government. (p. 19, 2009) Her father who was a Doctor was forced to do difficult jobs for very low wages, simply because he was an Afghan and not Iranian. Her family spent four years living in terrible conditions as exiles in Iran. “About 85,000 Afghans were squeezed into filthy, over-crowded camps. We were neglected and forgotten, where we baked in the heat of the day and shivered at night. ” (p. 20, 2009) Malalai’s father believed so strongly in the value of education, even for girls, so to him, what was even worse than these living conditions were the fact that there were no schools in these camps.

Afghan children were not allowed to attend Iranian schools and for this reason, her family decided to leave Iran and move to Pakistan. It was in Pakistan, that Malalai first attended a school. The school was the only school that allowed Afghan female refugees to attend. Malalai really enjoyed her classes and immediately valued the importance of education. In 1992, when Malalai was fourteen, her family moved back to Afghanistan. However, it wasn’t long before she would move back to Pakistan because it was far too unsafe to live in Afghanistan. “Young girls were being abducted, raped and killed by roaming gangs. (p. 30, 2009)

“At night, armed fighters of criminal mujahideen groups would often walk right into people’s homes. All the children were locked in a bedroom with the light off and told to remain silent. We were terrified, but we could not cry out as we listened to these men yelling and turning things upside down around the house, taking whatever they pleased. ” (p. 31, 2009) Malalai used to listen to the radio with her father. There were regular reports about the intifada in Palestine, and how their children were bravely fighting against the aggression of Israeli troops.

She asked her father, “Why are we not from Palestine, where the children are so brave? ” He replied “If that’s the way you feel, why don’t you think about becoming like a Palestinian in your own country? ” (p. 39, 2009) I think this was what made Malalai go into politics and fight for her country. “This had a deep impact on me. I thought about what he said for days. I wanted to work to end what was going on in Afghanistan, and perhaps my father was showing me the way. ” (p. 30, 2009) In 1998, Malalai joined the Organisation for Promoting Afghan Women’s Capabilities (OPAWC) as a full-time social activist.

After living in exile for sixteen years, she returned to Afghanistan for her job to teach girls in defiance of the Taliban. This job came with a risk. However Malalai accepted the risk involved and adopted the surname Joya to protect her family’s identity. “Teaching at an underground girls’ school was a dangerous job, but I never considered giving it up. I felt it was a great injustice that Afghan girls were being denied an education. The Taliban wanted to keep them in the dark, because any time a group is denied education it is harder for them to know their rights and to fight for them. (p. 56, 2009)

Upon Malalai’s return to Afghanistan, she had to learn to wear the burqa as this was a requirement from the Taliban. “I didn’t like it. Not one bit. It’s not only oppressive but it’s more difficult than you might think. You have no peripheral vision because of the netting in front of your eyes. And it’s hot and suffocating under there. The only useful thing about those long blue robes was that they could be used to hide school books and other forbidden objects. ” (p. 44, 2009) Men had to grow thick beards as long as a “clenched fist”. (p. 3, 2009) according to the rules of male grooming. Books other than the Quran were forbidden.

Television, movies, and recorded music were also illegal. The Taliban considered practising any other religion un-Islamic so they made it a crime. They would blow up or scrape off the faces of any other religious statues, paintings or photographs. In the Summer of 2001, Malalai was named the director of OPAWC in Western Afghanistan so she had to move back to where she was born. “We were just getting re-established when, on the night of September 11th, the radio broadcast some horrifying news.

Within days everyone knew that there would be a war. ” (p. 57, 2009) America started dropping bombs on Afghanistan daily, killing the lives of innocent people. The Taliban was replaced by the Northern Alliance. In 2003, the OPAWC opened a health clinic which was run by Malalai, again her safety was at risk as this was illegal. This health clinic soon expanded into an orphanage. Throughout the history of Afghanistan, whenever the country faced important reforms or changes in government, tribal elders and other leaders have assembled in a traditional gathering called a Loya Jirga.

In 2003, the United Nations was called in to oversee elections to a Loya Jirga. At the age of twenty-five, Malalai decided to get involved in the new political process in Afghanistan. “I had come to know first-hand their extreme suffering-especially that of women. I felt that our people needed their voices to be heard. ” (p. 71, 2009) “I was determined to help put an end to the rule of the warlords and fundamentalists, and I knew the great majority of Afghan men and women shared this aim. I did not understand at the time how this decision would change my life forever. ” (p. 2, 2009) Malalai was the winner of this Loya Jirga.

The second Loya Jirga Malalai attended; she was shocked and appalled to see warlords and other well known war criminals there that had made Afghanistan the war ridden country that it is. So in her speech she spoke of this. “My criticism of all my compatriots is why you are allowing the legitimacy and legality of this Loya Jirga to come into question due to the presence of those criminals who have brought our country to this state. Why would you allow criminals to be present here? They are responsible for our situation now! ” (p. 3, 2009) During her speech, she was asked to stop and she was escorted out of the Loya Jirga. That night, men came to a place where they thought Malalai would be staying to rape and kill her.

Luckily, she was not there. Even though Malalai did not return to the second day at the Loya Jirga, her name was making headlines around the world. In 2005, at the age of twenty-seven, she was the youngest person to be elected to the new Parliament. Since then, she survived numerous assassination attempts and continued to press the cause of those who elected her. Whenever Malalai spoke in Parliament, her microphone would be cut off.

My days in Parliament were always stressful and lonely because I was constantly being attacked and insulted. Sometimes I would raise the red card on my desk in protest, or even walk out in disgust. ” (p. 153, 2009) In 2007, in a television interview, Malalai criticised the criminals and warlords in Parliament, “If the Afghan Parliament continued on its current path, people would soon call it a zoo or a stable. ” (p. 170, 2009) However, Malalai specified that this comment was intended for the criminals and warlords and were not intended for the MPs who were real representatives.

This part of her statement was left out when it was aired on television and it made her sound like she was criticising the whole Parliament which in turn is the nation because the Parliament is the ‘house of the nation. ’ “This programme ended up defaming me in the eyes of the Afghan people while giving my enemies in Parliament ammunition to use against me. ” (p. 171, 2009) Malalai was suspended from Parliament for ‘insulting the institution of Parliament. ’ Protests and rallies were held worldwide to get Malalai back into Paliament. The support Malalai received was astonishing. Even some of my fellow parliamentarians have approached me to discreetly tell me that they support me, but they cannot do so publicly. ” (p. 178, 2009)

However, Malalai’s banishment from Parliament has meant her message has been spread worldwide. “Although I am no longer able to stand up in Parliament and raise my voice for justice, my enemies have accidently given me a gift. Because now my message is being carried further than ever before, and the cause of my people is heard all over the world. ” (p. 188, 2009) The war is still continuing in Afghanistan to this day. She is not confident about this changing since Obama has been elected. He and his foreign policy advisors do not appear to have learned from the past seven years-the course they are pursuing will only push the region into a wider war and more destruction. ” (p. 249, 2009) “Today we live under the shadow of the gun, and with the most corrupt and unpopular government in the world. ” (p. 253, 2009)

Malalai has done a lot for her country and people and has no regrets. “I would never want to take back any of the speeches I have made, nor any of the statements I have issued denouncing the corrupt and violent men and women who use and abuse their power to keep Afghanistan in their grip. (p. 267, 2009) I truly believe Malalai has made an unforgettable mark in her country and she believes this also. “You can kill me, but you can never kill my spirit. ” (p. 270, 2009) I think Malalai diagnoses what is wrong with the strategic decisions being made by society throughout her life very accurately and very bravely. All her life, she has gone against what the rulings of Afghanistan have suggested is correct in order to fight for what she personally believes is correct. Malalai leads the reader to consider new strategic directions not just for the individual but also for society as a whole.

The majority of the people in Afghanistan especially women are just followers, even if they do not agree with something. Malalai was brave enough to go against this from a very young age. She was fortunate to be part of a family who treated boys and girls the same and luckily her father knew the value of education so made sure she went to school. Without education she would not have the knowledge or power to be the woman she is today. She wanted to give this opportunity to other Afghan girls, so she went against the Taliban to do this through her teaching with the OPAWC.

She also went against the Taliban by opening a health clinic and an orphanage. This showed what a genuinely caring person Malalai was and that she was willing to risk her life to help strangers. Malalai is the first person not to mention first woman to stand up in the Loya Jirga and speak about the warlords and criminals the way she did. In her 2007 television interview, I think she is very brave for saying the things she said, however, I feel that maybe the words she used were not correct.

She maybe should have been more professional as she should have remembered her role as a parliamentarian; however I think she spoke that way because she was so passionate about this subject and I do not believe these comments should have led her to be banished from Parliament, if anything she should have just been suspended. Through reading the whole book, speaking the way she did may have been the best route to take as all her other efforts seem to be unnoticed and although it resulted in her being banished from Parliament, she gained international recognition so that she can spread her views further than just Afghanistan.

I do find Malalai’s arguments and story convincing, because I think Afghanistan is a much oppressed country and a sexist country. I agree that the way the warlords have run the country have led it to destruction and war. It is wrong that women are forced to wear the burqa. Nobody should be denied of an education and anyone who can justify raping and killing young girls should not be ruling a country. In my own personal strategy in life, I believe in standing up for what I believe is right. You can achieve your goals if you have the right knowledge, strategy and will power to do so-as long as you know you are right.

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A Whole New Mind

Pink has presented sharp scientific evidence in his book A Whole New Mind that comes as common knowledge to the majority of us in our society. He also stressed the several capabilities of right-brain thinking such as creativity, artistry, empathy, inventiveness, and overall big picture viewpoints. I noticed that Pink failed to mention any historical aspects before the 1900’s. For example; during the European Renaissance numerous right-brain thinking characters sprouted with many ideas for the world. These characters include painters, sculptors, inventors, musicians, and writers all across Europe.

We all know, however, that the European Renaissance came and went. What will this new Conceptual Age produce differently than the faded right-dominance of the European Renaissance years? Looking back in time between the years of 1400-1550 the geniuses of this world contributed to the life we live in now. I only say this because if they weren’t important to our society today than we wouldn’t have had to learn about them during our high school years or even our college years. A brilliant inventor, painter, musician, and mathemation Leonardo da Vinci is one man who seems to have a great grasp of life in all his talents.

He along with many other philosophers of that era seemed to fit the description of what I feel Pink suggests we should obtain throughout our lives to be successful and to lead our life in a way to help not only our generation but for the generations after ours as well. As we have studied in countless texts in high school about the several factors for the downfall of the European Renaissance and the complications after that time we should feel troubled to once again attempt to shift our minds.

Right-brain thinking is an aged solution. Pink’s proposal is one we have already gone through but is introduced in a business-like manner unlike the European Renaissance. How are we supposed to know that the Conceptual Age will not increase the desire to create machines that will replace the art industry, so that beauty can be drawn in an instant? I think that Pink’s transition solution from the Information Age to the Conceptual Age should be revised to explain more of what he has missed in his book that had me puzzled.

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A lesson Before Dying

In the book “ A lesson Before Dying” the chracters in the book have a lot of different personalities. There are many ways to compare the meaning of the characters name to themselves in the book. Grant’s name means great and as in the story he struggles between the meaning of life and the things that control it, many influences in his life show him valuble things that help him get through his struggles of being a black man in the south with an education, and himself considering he is powerless against changing his life around.

Vivian’s name means alive, and as it shows she is a white schoolteacher and represents grants individualist side, in a way that pushes him in the way of doing great things, but her family does not accept grant because of his color. She shows frant the meaning of being alive and working for things. Emma’s name means universal so in a way it ties in with her in the story because she has an open mind and is kind to everyone no matter the race, or ethnicity.

She shows people the good they have in themselves and why it is important to show love and kindness. Lastly there is Paul and his name means small, since he is the youngest in the sheriff’s department he is more tolerant but stubborn, and finds new ways for things, and everyone say he comes from a good stock, which means he comes from a family that he treats people well regardless of race or ethnicity. Many of the names from the characters go along with their personalities in the story, not always exactly the same but close to who they are.

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Hersey’s Purpose in Writing Hiroshima

John Hersey was born in China on June 17th, 1914. John Hersey wrote the book Hiroshima on August 31, 1946. The book is about six survivors from the bombing of Hiroshima. The survivors was: Mrs. Hatsuy Nakamura, Dr. Terufumi Sasaki, Father Wilhelm Kleinsorge, Toshiko Sasaki, Dr. Masakazu Fujii, and Reverend Kiyoshi Tanimoto. These survivors were very strong people. They had to live off any resources that were left.

Hersey wrote the book to tell the effects of the nuclear weapon. So he chose those 6 people. He described the pain that was visible. He also told about how much destruction the bomb had caused. Hersey also told the readers about how many people had died and te conditions they were in. The bomb caused exscrutiating burns all over their body. Many of the people that didn’t die from the bomb was sickened with nausea, headaches, diarrhea, malaise, fever and other symptoms.

It killed ninety-five per cent of the people within a half-mile of the center, and many thousands who were farther away. Hersey explained in the book the moment that the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.Hiroshima was also written to tell about the rumors that were going around about what had just happened in their town. The book also explained how the bomb surviors was able to put their lives back together with all their injuries and the scarceless resources.

It also tells about how all the survivors had to work together to survive. Hersey also tells the readers about how the survivors are today. He found out that two were dead. Another was a nun. One of them had started touring the U.S.A for money so he could rebuild his church. Another had become a surgeon in his own clinic. No description about the last survivor.

So as you can see the book Hiroshima was very helpful. It helped see the effects of the bomb. Also, it helped described the pain that it caused outside of the body and inside. It also gives assistance to the scientist to see how much destruction in the a town that the bomb had caused.

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Important to Treat Patients with Kindness and Respect

In his book, People Care, Thom Dick shows us that while it is imperative to know and perform all the medical procedures well, it is also important to treat patients with kindness and respect. He points out that most people don’t remember much about medical procedures performed, but they do remember how they were treated. Also, he demonstrates that how patients are treated plays a big role in whether or not they decide to pursue malpractice litigation against healthcare providers. If patients are handled with gentleness and respect, they are more likely to forgive mistakes.

He begins his book by giving us three major mistakes that the Emergency Medical Services (EMS) has made since its founding. The first mistake was to support hiring people that were inclined to hate their jobs. These people were thrill seekers and just wanted to be heroes. They only cared primarily about themselves and not enough about the patient. In order to enjoy and do well in the EMS profession, Emergency Medical Technicians (EMTs) need to naturally like people and have a love for helping them. The second mistake was that the EMTs were taught to expect the wrong things.

They were led to believe that every call would be exciting. In reality, most calls are routine and are not exciting at all. The last mistake was that many EMS administrators treated their workers with disrespect. They applied manufacturing measures to EMS quality which made the EMTs feel less valuable. Thom Dick wants us to remember that EMS is not manufacturing; it is the most important people business ever. Next, Mr. Dick stresses that the EMT’s personal safety always comes first. He believes that they need to develop safety habits if they are to stay alive and healthy.

One of the gifts that EMS gives back is situational awareness. EMTs will be put into many dangerous situations and will need situational awareness in order to stay out of harm’s way. Mr. Dick also believes that another way to stay safe is to never drive the ambulance too fast or in any other irresponsible way. Thom Dick emphasizes the need to respect others no matter how strange or different they may seem to us. EMTs meet a wide variety of people out in the field and must learn to accept them as they are. It is not an EMT’s job to judge other peoples’ personalities.

Their job is to provide the best care that they are able to give. Mr. Dick feels that it is important to take the time to understand how patients are feeling. Many of the people that EMTs will meet are scared and need someone to help them feel better. One of the most important things an EMT can do for them is to simply smile. The smile needs to be genuine or the patient will feel like it is all an act and the EMT doesn’t really care. He next expresses the need to develop professional etiquette toward everyone that they meet.

Respect and kindness should be shown to every person that EMTs come upon in the field. This includes other medical professionals, first responders, other drivers, co-workers, and patients. EMTs should listen to them and do all they can to cooperate. This will be easiest if they naturally like people and have no problem respecting others. Additionally, Mr. Dick feels that professional etiquette includes maintaining a professional appearance. If EMTs are poorly groomed or go around with an unkempt uniform, it reflects badly on themselves, their colleagues, and their profession.

In Mr. Dick’s opinion, most of the so called “system abusers” are simply people who are overwhelmed in life or just lonely. They become desperate for someone to talk to and they know EMTs will always respond and most likely listen to them. They deserve sympathy however and not distain. Many of these people are homeless, having no one in their lives to talk to or listen to them. The author wants us to remember that, with a couple of bad breaks, we could end up homeless too and that these people should be treated with the same level of respect as everyone else.

According to Mr. Dick, another group that deserves respect is the patient’s family members. If a patient is in crisis, the family is most likely in crisis as well. They can be very helpful in such things as giving the patient’s medical history, medications, and other useful information to an EMT. The family can also become formidable adversaries if they feel that the patient is being mistreated. EMTs should always listen to them and show that they really do care about their family member. Furthermore, Mr.

Dick believes that being able to give comfort to the family is a required skill for all healthcare providers to have. He further states that the elderly are probably the biggest group of people that EMTs will treat in their careers. The author gives several examples in his book of how the elderly can be different from other patients and how certain things can affect them more. Mr. Dick also wants EMTs to understand how the elderly feel about the current condition of their lives.

They have gone from being independent in all areas in their lives to needing elp getting dressed and cleaning themselves. They are people just like everyone else and deserve to be treated as such. Mr. Dick next warns us that EMTs will come in contact with many violent people and that they need to do all they can to stay out of danger. When EMTs come upon these people, they must do their best to keep control of their emotions and not retaliate in any way. Violent patients should still be treated with respect and still need to be cared for. Additionally, Mr. Dick informs us that EMTs may be put in a situation where they will have to “take-down” and restrain the patient.

He believes that if they must do this, proper restraints should be used and they should still listen to the patient. If the patient starts to complain of breathing difficulty, the EMT must do what he can to help them. Thom Dick and his co-authors obviously put a lot of thought into writing this book. It is full of practical ways to treat our patients with respect and how to stay safe while in the field. I strongly believe that all EMS professionals and students should read this book to gain understanding of some of the challenges and dangers they will face in this critical and demanding profession.