Ji-Ji.Guerrera

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There’s a strike through the texts I’ve read. Pretty terrible for a lit student, but worry not, I’ll kill this list. Would you like to join me?

PS – Lots of repeated titles in the list so it’s not as large as it appears

100+ BOOKS TO READ BY AGE 30

http://www.modernlibrary.com/top-100/100-best-novels/

  1. ULYSSES
    by James Joyce
  1. THE GREAT GATSBY
    by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  1. A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN
    by James Joyce
  1. LOLITA
    by Vladimir Nabokov
  1. BRAVE NEW WORLD
    by Aldous Huxley
  1. THE SOUND AND THE FURY
    by William Faulkner
  1. CATCH-22
    by Joseph Heller
  1. DARKNESS AT NOON
    by Arthur Koestler
  1. SONS AND LOVERS
    by D.H. Lawrence
  1. THE GRAPES OF WRATH
    by John Steinbeck
  1. UNDER THE VOLCANO
    by Malcolm Lowry
  1. THE WAY OF ALL FLESH
    by Samuel Butler
  1. 1984
    by George Orwell
  1. I, CLAUDIUS
    by Robert Graves
  1. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE
    by Virginia Woolf
  1. AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY
    by Theodore Dreiser
  1. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER
    by Carson McCullers
  1. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE
    by Kurt Vonnegut
  1. INVISIBLE MAN
    by Ralph Ellison
  1. NATIVE SON
    by Richard Wright
  1. HENDERSON THE RAIN KING
    by Saul Bellow
  1. APPOINTMENT IN SAMARRA
    by John O’Hara
  1. U.S.A.(trilogy)
    by John Dos Passos
  1. WINESBURG, OHIO
    by Sherwood Anderson
  1. A PASSAGE TO INDIA
    by E.M. Forster
  1. THE WINGS OF THE DOVE
    by Henry James
  1. THE AMBASSADORS
    by Henry James
  1. TENDER IS THE NIGHT
    by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  1. THE STUDS LONIGAN TRILOGY
    by James T. Farrell
  1. THE GOOD SOLDIER
    by Ford Madox Ford
  1. ANIMAL FARM
    by George Orwell
  1. THE GOLDEN BOWL
    by Henry James
  1. SISTER CARRIE
    by Theodore Dreiser
  1. A HANDFUL OF DUST
    by Evelyn Waugh
  1. AS I LAY DYING
    by William Faulkner
  1. ALL THE KING’S MEN
    by Robert Penn Warren
  1. THE BRIDGE OF SAN LUIS REY
    by Thornton Wilder
  1. HOWARDS END
    by E.M. Forster
  1. GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN
    by James Baldwin
  1. THE HEART OF THE MATTER
    by Graham Greene
  1. LORD OF THE FLIES
    by William Golding
  1. DELIVERANCE
    by James Dickey
  1. A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME (series)
    by Anthony Powell
  1. POINT COUNTER POINT
    by Aldous Huxley
  1. THE SUN ALSO RISES
    by Ernest Hemingway
  1. THE SECRET AGENT
    by Joseph Conrad
  1. NOSTROMO
    by Joseph Conrad
  1. THE RAINBOW
    by D.H. Lawrence
  1. WOMEN IN LOVE
    by D.H. Lawrence
  1. TROPIC OF CANCER
    by Henry Miller
  1. THE NAKED AND THE DEAD
    by Norman Mailer
  1. PORTNOY’S COMPLAINT
    by Philip Roth
  1. PALE FIRE
    by Vladimir Nabokov
  1. LIGHT IN AUGUST
    by William Faulkner
  1. ON THE ROAD
    by Jack Kerouac
  1. THE MALTESE FALCON
    by Dashiell Hammett
  1. PARADE’S END
    by Ford Madox Ford
  1. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE
    by Edith Wharton
  1. ZULEIKA DOBSON
    by Max Beerbohm
  1. THE MOVIEGOER
    by Walker Percy
  1. DEATH COMES FOR THE ARCHBISHOP
    by Willa Cather
  1. FROM HERE TO ETERNITY
    by James Jones
  1. THE WAPSHOT CHRONICLES
    by John Cheever
  1. THE CATCHER IN THE RYE
    by J.D. Salinger
  1. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE
    by Anthony Burgess
  1. OF HUMAN BONDAGE
    by W. Somerset Maugham
  1. HEART OF DARKNESS
    by Joseph Conrad
  1. MAIN STREET
    by Sinclair Lewis
  1. THE HOUSE OF MIRTH
    by Edith Wharton
  1. THE ALEXANDRIA QUARTET
    by Lawrence Durell
  1. A HIGH WIND IN JAMAICA
    by Richard Hughes
  1. A HOUSE FOR MR BISWAS
    by V.S. Naipaul
  1. THE DAY OF THE LOCUST
    by Nathanael West
  1. A FAREWELL TO ARMS
    by Ernest Hemingway
  1. SCOOP
    by Evelyn Waugh
  1. THE PRIME OF MISS JEAN BRODIE
    by Muriel Spark
  1. FINNEGANS WAKE
    by James Joyce
  1. KIM
    by Rudyard Kipling
  1. A ROOM WITH A VIEW
    by E.M. Forster
  1. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED
    by Evelyn Waugh
  2. THE ADVENTURES OF AUGIE MARCH
    by Saul Bellow
  3. ANGLE OF REPOSE
    by Wallace Stegner
  4. A BEND IN THE RIVER
    by V.S. Naipaul
  5. THE DEATH OF THE HEART
    by Elizabeth Bowen
  1. LORD JIM
    by Joseph Conrad
  2. RAGTIME
    by E.L. Doctorow
  1. THE OLD WIVES’ TALE
    by Arnold Bennett
  2. THE CALL OF THE WILD
    by Jack London
  1. LOVING
    by Henry Green
  1. MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN
    by Salman Rushdie
  1. TOBACCO ROAD
    by Erskine Caldwell
  2. IRONWEED
    by William Kennedy
  1. THE MAGUS
    by John Fowles
  1. WIDE SARGASSO SEA
    by Jean Rhys
  2. UNDER THE NET
    by Iris Murdoch
  1. SOPHIE’S CHOICE
    by William Styron
  1. THE SHELTERING SKY
    by Paul Bowles
  2. THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE
    by James M. Cain
  3. THE GINGER MAN
    by J.P. Donleavy
  1. THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS
    by Booth Tarkington
  1. ATLAS SHRUGGED
    by Ayn Rand
  2. THE FOUNTAINHEAD
    by Ayn Rand
  3. BATTLEFIELD EARTH
    by L. Ron Hubbard
  4. THE LORD OF THE RINGS
    by J.R.R. Tolkien
  5. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
    by Harper Lee
  1. ANTHEM
    by Ayn Rand
  1. WE THE LIVING
    by Ayn Rand
  2. MISSION EARTH
    by L. Ron Hubbard
  1. FEAR
    by L. Ron Hubbard
  2. DUNE
    by Frank Herbert
  1. THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS
    by Robert Heinlein
  2. STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND
    by Robert Heinlein
  3. A TOWN LIKE ALICE
    by Nevil Shute
  4. THE CATCHER IN THE RYE
    by J.D. Salinger
  5. ANIMAL FARM
    by George Orwell
  6. GRAVITY’S RAINBOW
    by Thomas Pynchon
  7. THE GRAPES OF WRATH
    by John Steinbeck
  1. SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE
    by Kurt Vonnegut
  1. GONE WITH THE WIND
    by Margaret Mitchell
  2. LORD OF THE FLIES
    by William Golding
  1. SHANE
    by Jack Schaefer
  1. TRUSTEE FROM THE TOOLROOM
    by Nevil Shute
  1. A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANY
    by John Irving
  1. THE STAND
    by Stephen King
  1. THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT’S WOMAN
    by John Fowles
  1. BELOVED
    by Toni Morrison
  1. THE WORM OUROBOROS
    by E.R. Eddison
  1. THE SOUND AND THE FURY
    by William Faulkner
  1. LOLITA
    by Vladimir Nabokov
  2. MOONHEART
    by Charles de Lint
  1. ABSALOM, ABSALOM!
    by William Faulkner
  1. OF HUMAN BONDAGE
    by W. Somerset Maugham
  1. WISE BLOOD
    by Flannery O’Connor
  1. UNDER THE VOLCANO
    by Malcolm Lowry
  2. FIFTH BUSINESS
    by Robertson Davies
  3. SOMEPLACE TO BE FLYING
    by Charles de Lint
  4. ON THE ROAD
    by Jack Kerouac
  1. HEART OF DARKNESS
    by Joseph Conrad
  1. YARROW
    by Charles de Lint
  1. AT THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS
    by H.P. Lovecraft
  1. ONE LONELY NIGHT
    by Mickey Spillane
  2. MEMORY AND DREAM
    by Charles de Lint
  3. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE
    by Virginia Woolf
  4. THE MOVIEGOER
    by Walker Percy
  1. TRADER
    by Charles de Lint
  1. THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY
    by Douglas Adams
  2. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER
    by Carson McCullers
  1. THE HANDMAID’S TALE
    by Margaret Atwood
  1. BLOOD MERIDIAN
    by Cormac McCarthy
  1. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE
    by Anthony Burgess
  2. ON THE BEACH
    by Nevil Shute
  1. A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN
    by James Joyce
  1. GREENMANTLE
    by Charles de Lint
  2. ENDER’S GAME
    by Orson Scott Card
  1. THE LITTLE COUNTRY
    by Charles de Lint
  2. THE RECOGNITIONS
    by William Gaddis
  3. STARSHIP TROOPERS
    by Robert Heinlein
  4. THE SUN ALSO RISES
    by Ernest Hemingway
  1. THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP
    by John Irving
  1. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
    by Ray Bradbury
  2. THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE
    by Shirley Jackson
  1. AS I LAY DYING
    by William Faulkner
  1. TROPIC OF CANCER
    by Henry Miller
  1. INVISIBLE MAN
    by Ralph Ellison
  1. THE WOOD WIFE
    by Terri Windling
  1. THE MAGUS
    by John Fowles
  2. THE DOOR INTO SUMMER
    by Robert Heinlein
  1. ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE
    by Robert Pirsig
  2. I, CLAUDIUS
    by Robert Graves
  1. THE CALL OF THE WILD
    by Jack London
  1. AT SWIM-TWO-BIRDS
    by Flann O’Brien
  1. FARENHEIT 451
    by Ray Bradbury
  1. ARROWSMITH
    by Sinclair Lewis
  1. WATERSHIP DOWN
    by Richard Adams
  1. NAKED LUNCH
    by William S. Burroughs
  1. THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER
    by Tom Clancy
  1. GUILTY PLEASURES
    by Laurell K. Hamilton
  1. THE PUPPET MASTERS
    by Robert Heinlein
  1. IT
    by Stephen King
  2. V.
    by Thomas Pynchon
  1. DOUBLE STAR
    by Robert Heinlein
  1. CITIZEN OF THE GALAXY
    by Robert Heinlein
  2. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED
    by Evelyn Waugh
  1. LIGHT IN AUGUST
    by William Faulkner
  1. ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST
    by Ken Kesey
  2. A FAREWELL TO ARMS
    by Ernest Hemingway
  3. THE SHELTERING SKY
    by Paul Bowles
  4. SOMETIMES A GREAT NOTION
    by Ken Kesey
  1. MY ANTONIA
    by Willa Cather
  1. MULENGRO
    by Charles de Lint
  2. SUTTREE
    by Cormac McCarthy
  3. MYTHAGO WOOD
    by Robert Holdstock
  1. ILLUSIONS
    by Richard Bach
  1. THE CUNNING MAN
    by Robertson Davies
  1. THE SATANIC VERSES
    by Salman Rushdie
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I have always admired my friend’s writing, and this story is certainly an exemplar of how amazing her work is. Check it out

The Little White Bat

Bowie turned to Iman.

“I wonder what it’s like to be a goddess like you.”

He traced the lines about her immaculate cheeks, ran his fingers through her soft fine hair.

She laughed as he did this, looking back into his discolored eyes, focusing on his worn English crowsfeet, and the laughlines that cupped his lips.

She kissed him tenderly.

“Goddess?” she asked, in her warm, dark voice.

“Yes, dear?” Bowie replied.

“I’m going to put some coffee on.”

Her legs cascaded from the sheets.

Bowie watched her silk nightgown nip against her ankles as she walked.

When she left, he starred up at the ceiling, running his right hand through his hair. He was contemplating painting a fresco of the night sky.

The white ceiling glowed back at him.

He wanted to paint in a few more stars than could be seen from earth, and name them after his…

View original post 193 more words

Konsept Showbiz Group

His name is Luther, a multi-talented poet/rap art/song writer and presently the CEO of konseptshowbiz group, a fast rising entertainment oufit that cuts across Africa and Europe. Luther since joining the entertainment world has done lots of collaborations and projects with the likes of Ruffcoin (Nwa Aba), Jay stunts, Flavour, Slow dogg, Umunamu crew, Ransome and more. Here is a sure street song that is really taking over as it has much message parked in it concerning our country Nigeria which seems to be on the verge of collapsing with different issues coming up everyday. Nice single. They all came correct. Enjoy

DOWNLOAD LINK BELOW:

http://hu.lk/81inkupmkzzs

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or ff @LUTHER_lyrical

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Will You Like To Play?

The Man sits with his pants undone and his underwear lowered to watch the bodies play out on screen. He knows how it will happen: the girl will lick her partner’s lips, her partner will slowly thrust his hips, and together their fluids will seep in anticipation for more than a touch, but that is the nature of their torture, and the Man prefers it this way—this is why he stays subscribed to the website.

The Man watches the online interaction with the desire to feel himself, to stroke his increasing pain in welcomed anxiety, but these rituals are his punishment.

He looks to the images of blonde women in news paper clippings on his wall; they had been deified beneath his wavering magician fingers, each part of them licked into eternity, at least this is what the Man has said to himself every night for ten years.

He looks to the picture frame above his bookshelf where a woman watches him with the sternness of authority. She taught him all he needed to know about his disease, how he should go about it, where his hunger should be directed. Most of all, she tried to teach him never to act on his impulses, but those lessons are the hardest to learn, her image knows best. Still, her words form a pervasive alarm clock that jolts him into safe reality when situations become too dire to be contained.

All his curtains and windows are barred to prevent the curiosity of onlookers. The color of the woman in the frame—her hair and pale skin—provides the only sunlight he needs; the coldness from his fan is his oxygen supply; his artificial plants are real; he imagines his bird cages with actual birds, not journals from ten years ago, but he is content with everything, the security brings him comfort at night.

He watches the couple on screen lick each other as their hearts violently pulsate beneath their translucent skins. He imagines them licking their bodies until they become hungry and begin to eat away at one another. They would reach their hearts, transforming into hybrids of vampires and cannibalistic wolves as they gnaw the remains of their humanity. This thought brings a smile to his face. And yet he cannot touch himself. This is the punishment, he remembers, remaining still before the motion on screen.

He wishes he is Dexter; he wishes he is innocent; he wishes he is not sick. Of course, he does not want to think this, so he hides his rising emotions behind the guise of a rigid composure.

The couple online finish their long escapade of sexual torture and the Man hurriedly switches onto a website saved in his favourites. It says will you like to play on the very first page, and his fingers react widely as if to stab the yes into oblivion. He will like to play, he always wants to play—it is his favourite thing to do. Why the webpage must always ask is beyond his comprehension.

The chat-rooms are filled except one. The one is almost empty. There is a name he does not recognize in it. The name is happy to see him; it blurts hi in capitalized letters.

“Are you female? Blonde?” The Man vomits words on the page; he realizes thankfully that they are coherent after he reads them a second time.

“Yes. Will you like to have some fun dear,” she says.

It is an unwritten rule that phone numbers and personal emails are not to be exchanged on the website, so the two leave the conversation after agreeing on a time and place to meet.

The Man turns to the picture glaring at him. The woman’s eyes fiercely burn layers off his face and the lines etched into her skin make as if escaping the confines of the frame to strangle him into compliance. He realizes this sun must be too bright and places the frame down forward. This is what he likes about controlling the elements in his home: he can shut them off when they become unbearable. In his apartment, he is the only god that exists.

He says a little prayer to the woman in the picture frame now hidden from his view. He apologizes for their relationship, for his mistakes. He coaxes her ghost with promises to be better. He will follow her code, like Dexter follows Harry’s.

So he prepares his equipments slowly at first, with patience unknown to him, but in anticipation of his upcoming encounter, begins bundling them with desperation.

He shoves a case of chloroform in his black satchel. This time no one will change their mind as the women were apt to do; he will see this to a peaceful end—this promise he intends on keeping.  

 

 

Image

It was like a war zone. The brush became my primary weapon in my destruction of androcentric art. I could hear my instructor yelling incoherently by the far end of the room. I stared at the image I was supposed to recreate: The Mona Lisa sitting still, serene and content within her predicament, whatever that was. “Why was she so bloody happy?” I thought, observing the intricate weavings of her attire as it fell loosely upon her naked chest. “What pacified her so: her father or his wealth?”

Lies. Her little smirk, her pristine youth; the pre-historic virgin, a transcendent ideal of beauty and perfection women must aspire for; a muse to satiate the artist’s and viewers’ lustrous desires. Mona-Lisa the virgin whore; born from Leo’s imagination to fulfill all phallic fantasies of the perfect girl. Mona: supple; tender; passive; dainty; desirous. 

My conception of her was a little bit different. I dreamt up my ideal in the time frame of a minute and vigorously sketched the image, tracing an outline of her mouth where I imagined her heart really lay.  Leo’s Mona smiled; her mouth soft around the edges and her teeth concealed beneath the comfort of lips.

Mine, however, screamed. Fangs barred, nostrils flared, her face lifted in a perpetual scowl, eyes focused and content on hating the artist, and the color of her cheeks saturated to a benign yellow and red. She kind of glared at you, the observer, with a distinct kind of fear in her eyes, a fear that said “stay away, but come closer.”

I became maniacal, striking at the image with arms that slashed wildly one way then the other. I was an animal. No. I was a fiend drugged off the edge of sanity. Each stroke moved simultaneously with the sound of my breathing and the beat of my pulse. Sweat slithered down to lick my eyesight, molding my vision into blurred reality of achromatic, anguish, and pain. (Was that it on her face? Pain? Fear? Anger?) 

“Time’s up!” My instructor’s melodramatic wail broke into my unconscious. And there I stood, engrossed by my Mona-Lisa’s teeth—what would she do with them? Bite a dick off.

The image is not what I’d imagined, or at least it wasn’t there yet. Perfection required more time and concentration.

I didn’t noticed when my instructor crept up behind me.

“I asked for Mona-Lisa,” her throaty voice inquisitive as to where this demon came from?

‘My imagination,’ I wanted to say, but ended up quietly responding: “And, I gave her to you.”

“You gave me a gorgon without snakes. Mark: Incomplete!” She flicked her head with her nose held high, and waddled towards the next student, leaving a blotted red ink of “I” for incomplete work, in other words an “F”, on my fresh painting. I stood feeling irritated and inept, as per usual.

I walked out of class with my backpack hoisted in one arm and my wet painting in the other. Yes, I had given that woman too much of what she had asked for (unappreciative bitch). She would give an “A” to all those fake imitations of a fake smile.

No.

The Mona-Lisa did not warrant my attention, like another woman did.

I had a new art project in mind. 

The Medusa.

Close your eyes!

No listen, you have to close your eyes!

Oh yeah, You can’t read with your eyes closed, I’m a moron. Okay but imagine a girl sitting. Her bulbous eyes stare straight ahead; spider lines in thick bags of blues and purples add to her aging look, and her mouth, opened, draws spit out of a limp tongue. It’s fucking disgusting yea? Well that’s the state I’m in! You’re thinking, BULLOCKS! I shit you not. Two overdue assignments scream my name and the blaring white light from my laptop is the only thing keeping my head sitting atop a strained neck, instead of laying on a pillow that is–as in I am addicted to the internet. And you, you only wanna know why I haven’t updated my WORDPRESS! Shame on you bad, bad person!

So, it’s been a while and I’m gonna admit I just feel lazy and tired and not in a blogging mode these days. But alas, I’m blogging at the moment.

There’s a contest which you may or may not have heard about and its host is the lovely, amazing Tahereh Mafi, author of the YA novel Shatter Me. Check out her awesome blog if you would like to win some books, and of course, as a writer, I love nothing more than FREE BOOKS… so tada! Fingers crossed I win! Here’s her website: http://stiryourtea.blogspot.com/2012/02/contest-and-winning-and-free-books.html

On another note, I have been writing… ALOT! Ok that’s a little bit exaggerated but yes, I’ve been writing more than before. I’ve been editing and re-editing and re-editing and re- (you get the fucking point) both  short stories: A Day in the Life of Mr. Death – which is no longer the same story anymore and the title has in fact been changed to Mr. Wallingford… yea (the not so unique tale of a writer) and The Feast in order to apply for the Clarion West workshop from June to July. Ok, so you see, I am lazy but I have been working and that’s what’s important. Ok, ttyl cause I gotta go now. Post a poem later 🙂

Bye

ARIES POWER!

Okay, I’m just gonna start off by stating: I am an exceptionally bad blogger. Actually, I’m exceptionally terrible at keeping promises or sticking to a long term goal! But things are going to change next year! Mark my words now, I will post something on here once a week! That is my promise. 2012 will get to know a new me!

So I have been writing; however, I simply can’t type it all on here right now. “Why?” you ask. Well for one, Dexter is waiting for me. Also, I have a few novellas to finish reading before my exam and I’m currently, while procrastinating of course, reading Six Characters in Search of an Author.

So yes, starting January 1st, every—we’ll say Tuesday unless plans change—I will produce something of relative interest: a story and some photographs. Yes, I will whip out my camera once again and probably add a wicked new lens to it. I’ve been thinking of upgrading but since i’m exceptionally poor, as in I make flippin’ minimum wage working 15 hours a week, I cannot afford anything but novels here and there.

Also, I promise to start exercising! I absolutely promise. And I’ll be going to that event the Carleton University Nigerian Student Association hosts every February; I think it’s called NEPA! Well I totally have to be in my fittest shape by then you know! Alright… that’s my promise and I promise to keep it!

New YEARS Resolutions are so fun!

Okay thanks. Later this week, or maybe next, I’ll post up my poem! 🙂 ❤

Happy HOLIDAYS!


@JijiGuerrera – Follow

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