movie vs. book smackdown: for once, it's a tie.

Wow, so, who's been a bad blogger? *shyly raises hand*

Over a week ago, I promised that I would talk about the differences between Howl's Moving Castle as a book and as a movie. And, to be honest, the idea has been daunting me since I promised it (I've also been traveling and working the whole time, so, you know). The truth is... I'm flummoxed.* I rarely experience this, where I love both the original book, and the movie that was spawned from it, equally, but for vastly different reasons. Because, no, they are not the same. I was surprised at some of the things I discovered in the book that weren't used in the classic, sweeping, gorgeous Miyazaki film, which has been a favorite of mine for years. Maybe that's the cure: fall in love with the movie before you're even aware the book exists.

I'm going to try to shed some light on the differences, here, but it might get a tad spoilery. If you'd rather find out for yourself, I completely understand. But some things were very interesting, and it would be a shame not to work through them.

If you love the movie, like I do, here are some things you might wish were in the book, but aren't:
> Howl as a war hero/shapeshifter. I know! I thought this was so integral to his character. Turns out, in the book, Howl is even sillier, and even more interested in flirting. If you can believe that. He still proves himself in the end, though, so don't worry.
> Sophie's early feelings for Howl. It is very thickly cloaked in the book. Also, there are no lucid moments where she is young-ish again, like in the movie. I missed that so much.
> The ENTIRE dynamic with The Witch of the Waste. I was on pins and needles reading the book, waiting for some insight into how that relationship came about in the movie, but it never happened.

I miss you so much, dream sequence.

> The end, with Sophie's hair and the pail of water and the cliffside and the scarecrow and all that. Most of the same basic things happened (minus Sophie feeding Calcifer her hair, which made me so sad, it being one of my favorite parts of the movie), but it was, I don't know. Lighter. Like the end of a Shakespeare comedy.
> The dream sequence with the tunnel and the trinkets and Howl and black feathers... oh. I was so sad that this wasn't in the book.


If you love the book (also like I do), here are some things you might wish Miyazaki had left alone:
> Sohpie's sisters. There's only Lettie, and she isn't the most integral of characters. There's not any indication that she's even met Howl! Or Michael! Oh, right, because...
> Michael Fisher. Oh, I know. What a little charmer. He may have been my favorite character in the book, but in the movie, he's... not the same at all. Somehow,  Howl's 15-year-old apprentice became a backstory-less eight-year-old named Markl.** And that makes me wonder, is Markl an odd Japanese transliteration of the name Michael? Hmm?
> Howl's backstory. Sadly sadly sadly, there is no jacket that reads, "WELSH RUGBY," even though that was one of my favorite parts of the book.
> The whole Wizard Suliman/Prince Justin thing. Warning: the prince is SO minor, you hardly even know he's an issue, and Wizard Suliman is not missing at all, but a woman (hey-oh, that was a major change) who advises the king. She is the one Sophie climbs all those steps to see. Weird, huh?

My advice for anyone who's been in love with the movie for years, but is hesitant to read the book: do it anyway. It's excellent and fun and beautifully written. It's a different version of the story you already love. There will be new things to enjoy, like seven-league boots, a fiercer-looking Calcifer, a mysterious place called... well, I won't spoil that one.

My advice for anyone who's read the book but hasn't seen the movie: see it. It's excellent and fun and breathtakingly animated. Make sure you watch it in Japanese with subtitles, because that's the way you watch Miyazaki. It's a different version of the story you already love. *smile* There will be new things to enjoy, like flying machines and Howl as a winged, feathered warrior. Just forget what you thought you knew about Diana Wynne Jones' fabulous novel. Hayao Miyazaki definitely puts his own spin to the story. But! What's great about it, is that all the differences (yes, there are still more) make it so uniquely his, and if you are fan of Miyazaki's other works, you know how unique his touches are. It's a testament to Miyazaki and his storytelling that he can almost entirely remake a beloved work, and have it become a new, separate beloved work.

And you will all be glad to know that some things do stay the same. Namely, temper tantrums and green slime. Baha.

*I'm not terribly flummoxed, obviously. I just really wanted to use that word.
** Guess who voiced Markl in the English-dubbed version of the movie? (Answer to be revealed in the next post, which I will probably write immediately instead of going to bed. Ha.)

Extra HMC tidbit: Legos?

And, uh, sorry if you haven't read this book OR seen the movie. I guess it goes without saying that I highly recommend you do both. For once, it's a tie.

How's about a little exit music? This is incredible:

my funny motivations.

I guess I don't really mean ha-ha funny, here.  Sorry to disappoint the hopefuls.  I'm having a slight woe-is-me fest.  I'm not really sad about anything.  I just feel different.  I feel... unlike other people.  I have always, always felt this way.

In pondering this on the way home from work yesterday, my mind wandered to a story idea I've been toying with for the past month or so.  It's one of those sigh-inducing flights of fancy that may never see the light of day, but it sends me into mental giggles and I can't let it go.  And as I was rattling off all these imaginary things to myself, about imaginary people and imaginary events, I realized:  This sounds so weird.  I am a complete nut.  Because, it is (I am?).  It really very much is.  What makes it stranger is that it's not fantasy.  If I wrote this thing, it would be a contemporary story about some kids in a state of hyper-creative madness.  It wouldn't involve drugs, but it might make you feel like you'd been taking some (pure speculation, there, but one of my recurring ideas does involve a gigantic, pink afro wig) (maybe it would involve drugs).  I don't want to talk about it too much.  I only mention it because it got me to thinking:

Why do I like all the weird stuff?  I mean, has anyone seen The Science of Sleep?  A Life Less Ordinary?  Happy Accidents?  i heart huckabees?  These are some of my favorite movies, but I can't watch them with other people because it weirds them out.  Namely, my adoring and wonderful husband. He abounds in excellent qualities, but he'll pass on the weird movies, thank you.  So why do I love them so much?

I don't gravitate toward inherently weird music, but it's not very much like the stuff other people listen to.  My best friend from high school recently burned me a copy of Florence + The Machine, and I like it well enough, but I literally sighed with relief when I took that out and put The Wild Band of Snee back in.  The Wild Band of Snee, people.  It's a real thing (so, I do gravitate toward weird music, apparently).  Which, now that I think about it, is what instigated the story-daydream mentioned above.

But, you know what?  I love these things about myself.  So, I'm taking back the woe-is-me, and replacing it with heck-yes-is-me.  And, dangitall, I just realized how very Velvet Box-y I am being right now.  Not feeling like anyone understands me.  Being proud of it, anyway.  What was this post supposed to be about again?

Oh, right, how I feel so different.  I've established that I love this about myself.  But it does bring about some challenges.  Like, I don't really care about publishing anything right now, which probably makes every other writer out there think me defective, or "not a real writer."  Maybe I am defective.  But I am a writer (noun: one who writes stuff, i.e. me).  Is it so bad just to be writing because I enjoy it?  And, for the most part, the stuff that I write is so off-the-wall, I doubt it would really "sell."  So, what do I do?  Give up?

Psh.  Of course not.  This is what makes it fun.  If I want to write a crazy adventure set in an implausible world, I'm going to (and, uh, I am).  Does it have anything to do with all those hot paranormal creatures everyone's so a-gaga over?  Nope.  Is it romantic and kissy?  Not yet, and possibly not ever.  But who cares?!  It's fun and scary and intriguing (I like to think these things about my own work, but I could be entirely wrong, of course).  I'm having a good time.  And I have a few potential (or more than potential- yay!) crit partners who will hopefully enjoy it and be blessed by it and help me make it the fullest it can be, and then you know what?  You know what my greatest desire for this story would be (my w.i.p., not the crazy pink afro one)?  To write it out by hand in a series of gorgeous journals, along with illustrations by my grandmother, tuck them into an attic, and watch some grandchild discover them when I'm old.  This is my ultimate fantasy right now.

That makes me weird, right?  I still would love to be an author.  I've dreamed of it since I was ten.  Granted, I've also dreamed of being an actress, singing in a band, and running away to Greece.  But my passion is not in the title "author."  It's in the act of writing.

So that's what I'm going to do.  I read something today about how different people define success.  Success for me would be giving glory to God through this gift he gave me-- the gift of enjoying creativity.  If His plan involves more after that, wonderful.  If not, I'll keep writing the weird stuff and tuck them away in attics to my heart's desire.  And it'll be awesome.

So, friends, tell me.  What makes you weird?

movies and home and family and a cat.

Well, it's a good thing I read nine books last month, because I don't think I'm even going to make it to five this month.  I, um, got burnt out?  Ha!  That didn't last long.  Another part of it, I think, is that I was reading a lot of fast-paced, addictive stuff, and now I'm rummaging around in that dreaded to-read list.  I'm not used to adult fiction.  Or, for that matter, Christian fiction.  Or non-fiction.  And I really want to get back into reading plays, but does that count as a book?  [My vote says yes.]  Plus, I've been working more, and not sick, and spending time with friends.  Amazing, right?

And I've been watching movies.  Books were starting to overwhelm me, I guess?  Who am I, all of a sudden?  I'm sure I'll get back into it soon enough.  Anyway, Joshua and I watched Ramona and Beezus the other night, as well as Despicable Me (a veritable marathon of feel-goodery, there), and it was delightful.  I loved the Ramona books as a kid.  And the movie was just wonderful.  And, oh, how I cried.  Not that that means much.  I cry at everything.

how cool is this frame? [found here] i need to learn how make these.

I'm home in Louisville right now, by the way.  It's great.  Other than being away from Joshua, that is.  But I get to see my parents and grandmother and friends and some extended family, too, this week.  Oh.  It will be so good for my soul.  Living away from my hometown is both liberating and frustrating.  I like having my own life, being totally independent (at least, of my parents), and working and making my own friends, etc.  But I miss my family.  Gah!  It's not like I'm college anymore, where you sort of prove who you are to yourself by being away from home.  That's how it was for me, and it was the right move to go out-of-state, but I'm past that now, you know?  I have proof of my maturity.  Or whatever.  I just want to be able to have lunch with my mom every once in a while.

Thus, a three-and-a-half-day trip to Louisville.  Go Cards!

I brought Oliver, too, which is kind of hilarious.  How often do you see cats chilling in a passing car, like you would a dog?  We travel with our cats a lot, and I like to think that others get a kick out of it.  Of course, it's a lot easier to let cats roam free in the car when there are two of us.  Since it was only me today, poor Olly Bear had to stay in the carrier.

I think he's over it now, though.  :)