In the age of new and exciting technology, I tend to live out my hair color. I can easily hide behind my iPhone, pretending like have the slightest clue on how to work it; when the truth is that some days I have to actually turn the stupid thing off to remember how to get back to the inbox of my email. Many days I contemplate chucking it out the window of a moving car, or flushing it down the toilet. This morning I spent 15 minutes reading status updates on Facebook thinking, how on earth do I know all these people? It then dawned on me that I had been scrolling down a friends profile. It quite often takes me a good amount of time to realize that my headphones aren't all the way plugged in, or that I typed the word I was thinking into the password box, instead of my actual password.
While it may be true that I will soon be crushed in the tidal wave of iPhone 10G (can someone please tell me what the 'G' stands for!) but I do understand books. I kicked off the summer with a Box Hill Picnic with the Jane Austen Society of North America, where like minded people shared wonderful conversation (see Box Hill Picnic post). In lieu of filling out my summer reading list (I may be 17 years old, but I had a great childrens librarian!) the discussion turned to books that are simply written to sell books. You know the type. The ones that are shoved upon us at Christmas, Valentines Day, and the end of the school year. First it should be said that I am the stereotypical person that marketing people have in mind when they create their adds. I have been known to cry during car commercials, and to try every single over priced that Sonic comes out with. I am the girl that cheers for USA throughout the entire Olympics, but then later cries for the Russian girl who missed her back tuck. I mean, look at her coach! His face is stuck in that frown, his wife failed to tell him that his uni-brow ages him, and he will probably make that poor girl do 5,000 back tucks out in the snow until she finally lands it! "Just give her the medal!" I want to scream! At any rate, it was recently brought to my attention that Tyra Banks will be quitting her talk show next year. Apparently she's bored with the show that " gives young women the 'girlfriend' they want to hang out with, and the role model they need", and will now be moving on to bigger and better things. Although this will not include her joining the Peace Corps, or opening a orphanage, she will be fulfilling her life long aspiration to reduce illiteracy. She recently signed a book deal with Random House for a young adult book line based on Super Models with Super Heroes! You must be thinking, "how selfless of her". But wait, it get's better! She even has plans to turn this series into a movie in the near future! "I have this notebook I write (like) everything in and started working on titles and breaking down characters," she revealed to Variety. "And I (like) kept going and going. I knew I didn't want it to be some autobiography (ha, as if you could even spell autobiography!); I (like) wanted to create a fantastical place." Okay, I couldn't resist adding in a few bits of my own to her heartfelt announcement. But in all seriousness, is this really happening? Is this what the literary world is coming to? The reason the classics are in fact classics, is because they are timeless. Jane Austen failed to supply us with the latest brand of quill pen, or who had designed the gown the queen wore to such and such ball, and yet no one thinks that Jane slighted us in any way! Why, you ask? Because no one cares! 100 years from now, all the adds and commercials will have been lost and forgotten. But the human character, that is something that will always remain the same. We understand Emma and her moments of foolishness, and know men like Mr. Darcy who drive us insane! "Where there is tea, there is hope", which leads me to suspect that we will survive this after all.