Some Warm Thoughts About Warm Bodies

I picked up Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion a week after seeing the film, because I left the theater thinking, “Okay…” Just okay. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the movie—especially the casting (let’s just say Nicholas Hoult was a convincing zombie and Teresa Palmer reminded me of Kristen Stewart), but I felt as if it was missing something. I then read a review of the movie that talked about how great the book was, so I went for it (let’s be honest, it’s difficult for me to pass up an $8 book on Amazon)!

The narrator, R, sucks you in right away. You immediately learn about what he is, where he is, why he’s there, and what he does—but he doesn’t reveal so much that you feel like you know his entire story. It’s clear that there’s more to him that even he hasn’t discovered yet.

R’s a genuine narrator. He makes you believe every single word he says. He’s honest and full of conflicting emotions—not exactly what I’d expected from a zombie book. And he’s the reason I kept turning the page. I wanted to learn more about him. As the story continued, I found myself growing closer with R. More than anything, I wanted him to be with Julie. I really enjoyed her character in that she complements R. She’s a firecracker and he’s a slow burning fire—they’re similar and yet they mesh so well.

While I enjoyed many of the other characters (especially sassy Nora), what I loved most about this book was how well it was written. I’ll admit, I’ve read some poorly written young adult love stories in the last month. I never had to reread a line because it was unclear—if anything, I reread it to admire it. This story made me feel like I was the one falling in love (I’m not sure whether that was with R or Isaac Marion, but I felt myself getting attached).

It’s almost hard to remember that R is a zombie throughout the novel. One of my favorite lines comes from his narration, “Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I’m drowning in ellipses” (51). He’s a smart guy. He wants to change and he makes it happen.

I’d highly recommend this book. I’ve never been into zombies, though I’m a fan of supernatural love stories. Marion’s story is so realistic that it’s easy to get lost in it. Especially when you consider how much of it is narration and how beautifully that narration is written. I really loved this one and I can’t wait to see what Marion comes up with next!

Advertisements

Inspiration

Tomorrow I get to meet the man whom I wrote my college entrance essay on. I was accepted to that school. I graduated from that school. In the spirit of excitement, here’s a list of the top ten people who inspire me on a daily basis (in no particular order).

1. Pete Wentz (Musician, Writer)

2. John Green (Writer, father)

3. Sarah Dessen (Writer, mother)

4. Kristen Stewart (Actress)

5. Kristen Wiig (Actress, comedienne)

6. Grace Helbig (Actress, comedienne)

7. Hank Green (Internet sensation)

8. Joanne Diaz (Professor at IWU)

9. Mike Theune (Professor at IWU)

10. (Cheating here, because this 10th spot is always changing) Currently: Isaac Marion (Author of ‘Warm Bodies”)

Thank you. All of you, for inspiring me to stay motivated and passionate. I look up to every single one of you. You all are really incredible and I’m thankful to know you (whether it be personally or through your work).

The White Pickup Truck

Down a back road lined with

soy beans and dried up corn stalks,

he said I’ll make a country girl outta you yet

and let me borrow his old, white pickup truck.

I watched the sun glint off an abandoned fishhook

between the dashboard and windshield.

What was just another Saturday for me

was his first day called up for battle,

fighting the front lines against

the mass in his chest. I felt the weight

of the heat suddenly, as if the dusty tint

of his addiction sealed the windows shut.

I rolled them down manually, the

thick air moved around me and

the stack of crushed maps

the pair of dry socks

the tackle box

smelled different. The country song

on the radio sounded too sad,

like not even whiskey could make things

better. I just wanted to make him

feel better, stronger, healthier.

So I followed that back road

to a main road onto Route 66

and drove until the fishhook

stopped glowing white,

the soot on the windows disappeared,

and the country music sounded happy.

In June, I became a country girl.