Shadow Hunters Review Pt 1.


Right. Just so we’re on the right footing. I adored the books. I’ve read all of the Mortal Instruments up except Heavenly Fire. I adored the movie. Everything except Jace was pretty accurate and that was how I liked it. This programme has thrown the books and movie on a big fire and said ‘sod it, lets rewrite the rules of this game.’ I’ve only watched the first episode as of yet, hence why this is part 1. I will write a pt 2, at the end of the series.

Let’s start with the beginning, bearing in mind that I watched it a week ago and it’s been a while since I’ve read the books. The institute, looked much more modern than it’s supposed to. It’s meant to be an abandoned church, with only a couple of shadowhunters in it. The programme has made the institute some kind of replacement Alicante which I really didn’t get; and don’t get my started on Simon’s muscles. Clary, I felt was a bit too melodramatic but I may have been made more aware of this because my uncle told me this before I watched it. I also don’t like the fact that Luke is a police officer. Luke is just meant to be living in the police station, he is not supposed to be the station. Also I’m kind of confused as to where Madame Dorothea is hiding.

I feel as though Magnus was introduced far too early on. That scene in Pandemonium was completely skewed. Simon playing sweet romantic acoustic music with a woman? Jace and the Lightwood siblings killing multiple demons in the club? Magnus being there? Clary going home after the club and being whisked away in a portal when the circle members arrive? All of this felt bizarre to me. I really wished they had made this series before I read the books. I hate reading books before watching something I love, or should love. I read the books because I loved the film and it made the whole world even better, now I have to relearn everything because everything has changed!

Anyway, as you can probably gather, the programme is hideously far from the literature and the film. I knew there would be a difference but I didn’t realise that I would have to sit there and pretend I had no idea what was supposed to be happening. As a show completely independent of it’s literature, I liked it. I’m more than happy to go and watch the next episodes, quietly comparing everything. I mean, it wasn’t all bad. Jace’s character is much more fluid, the effects are really cool and I finally learnt how to say stele properly.


Self Improvement

Hello all, yes, I have returned from both the excitement I’ve been harbouring for my mother and myself, and the trauma of restarting university again. I can now say I am more than half way through my university career at least. I’ve achieved great grades for my first semester, but through this trauma and feeling of overwhelming dread, I have been wondering if it was worth all of that stress and anxiety. Was it worth the weight I lost because I could not eat? The sleep I missed out on due to nightmares? The craziness I put myself through because I did not have the time to socialise or to even put on clothes, let alone wash them. I do wonder at how students can say university is a dawdle and how people can look down on students and call them lazy or whatever. You get out what you put in. So, naturally, I’ve been a bit worried about coming back into an environment which I am mentally, not particularly equipped to handle. Luckily, George was around to remind me of the end goal. That’s important.

So, have I tried to make things better reader? Well, I assume that you assumed by the title of this piece that I have found a way to help with stressful situations. I have tried a few things.

I am awfully unorganised. I have poor temporal awareness and my spatial awareness can be pretty awful too depending on which one is my main focus. My mum suggested a To Do List app so what do I do? I go onto Google Play and I don’t just download any to do list… I download THE To Do List app, todoist, which is what my spelling looks like when I’m thinking of a million things at once, as is the usual then. It’s come in pretty handy… when I actually remember to make a list of the things I need to remember. I must remember to become better at that.

I then decided to keep a diary. I’ve always kept a diary since I was very young. I like to write about things regularly and I love to have a good reminisce. My diary was never a regular thing though, unfortunately. Maybe once every few weeks, if I really tried. This diary was going to be different though to my usual angry and depressed self tearing pages and smudging ink. This one was going to be a health diary to find out what I ate and when, how I drank, slept, socialised (in person, as apposed to the too regular virtual contact), exercised, toileted ect. I’m sure you get the picture. I realised that it’s a human thing to do all of these things and yet I struggle to remember how long it was since the last time I did any number of normal human functions.

This diary lasted 2 and half days and I am rather proud of myself. What I found was, that instead of documenting accurately what I do daily, I found myself doing everything more often and correcting myself so I had plenty to write about. I’m never usually that interesting. So, after two and a half days I started to find myself in a rut where I couldn’t move from my position in bed and I hated my entire life. I realised at this point the diary was a bust (it was on the table, too far to reach from bed).

A diary would not do. The moment classes started up again, I realised I’d be far too busy to be able to go so in depth as I did. I needed something else. I needed purpose. A reason to smile. A reason to haul myself out of my safe zone. I needed a daily goal. So, three nights ago I started writing down a number of possible things that I could achieve. Some easy and some more difficult. These included: diet and exercise goals, appearance goals, hobby goals, house goals, social goals, habit breaking goals, spiritual goals; something I could do in a day, or for a little bit of the day.

The first goal I had was to sit with my housemates. This was a scary prospect to me for some reason because I have become quite the recluse. It’s one thing to talk to people through the internet, another thing entirely to look at people and to talk to them. So, that evening I asked if they’d like to watch an episode of Shadowhunters with me (review to follow) and they agreed. So we watched an episode and I felt very proud that I both fulfilled my first goal and had a nice time doing it. I didn’t set myself a time limit, so I didn’t have to push myself too hard on the first go.

Yesterdays goal was to stay away from Twitter accounts that I deem as bad. In terms of ‘bad’, I refer to the twitter account of ex friends which I now passionately hate. Hate can be a very addictive feeling and can be very hard to pull away from, particularly when they have caused you harm and have acted like a complete douchebag and it brings me a certain amount of pleasure when I see they are going through a rough patch. I’m sure I’m not the only one to feel that way. We’re only human. Anyway, I knew I could do it for a day. I don’t check twitter everyday, although I did yesterday, I was able to refrain from the devils call.

Today my goal is to play music and sing. I have always loved music and singing. In fact, I saw myself as a singer growing up more than I did a writer. I hated reading as a kid and for most of my teens and I loved singing. I entered my school talent show, I took BTEC Music, it really was the direction I saw my life going in. Funny how directions change. So, this evening I shall be singing, might even get the guitar out if I feel I have the time. University is really asking too much of its Creative Writing/ English students this term.

Anyway, I hope this has been useful to anyone that is also struggling. Keep up the good fight. x

A Nonsensical Wonderland

Tumbling, Tumbling,

Tumbling down,

Into the rabbit hole.

Rolling, rolling

Rolling around,

Which way do I go?


Trees do whisper,

Whilst the cat does laugh,

What is my purpose here?

I’m eating my bread,

And stuffing the fibre,

But still I have plenty to fear.


Following, following,

Following the herd,

But really there is no herd.

It’s all in my head,

Maybe I’m dead,

Have these events ever occurred?


Wonderland, wondersea,

What will become of me?

The Tweedles do twiddle

They’re all thumbs,

And no fiddle,

All the while I am stuffing this glee.

Reading Gives You Wings

I used to hate reading. What would possess person to waste all their precious time staring at empty words on a page? It was a boring, rewardless, time consuming punishment. Then I found it. The spark. I felt it change me; my mind expanded, my boundaries became endless. Each book I picked up was unknown territory I had to explore. I became an adventurer. I fell in love with vampires and werewolves, fought demons and dragons, time travelled and ventured to faraway lands.

Reading became my escape hatch. It’s the pair of wings I’ve spent my life pining for. Why had I not found this love sooner? Books are my dear friend now, my secret. They take me away. They make me laugh, make me cry; make me throw them at walls in anger. They make me smile, make me scream and make me fall in love all over. In them, I found my passion; my identity, within the pages along with so many lives I long to live.

It’s not a chore anymore. It’s a gift. Reading is one of the greatest gifts. Sometimes, I wish my sisters could feel this way about books. I wish they could see the magic that the authors of my favourite novels and poems have created. I wish they could feel the same release I do from this ‘boring, rewardless, time consuming punishment’, because then they could get away like I can. They could be anything they wanted to be. They could be free.

Reading is just a part of me now. Without this opportunity for imagination, you see, i imagine it to be like missing an organ or a limb. Too many take the skill for granted and don’t put it to proper use and it’s sad, really because one day I hope to be on the other end. I hope to be the one producing escape hatches and wings. I hope to make people feel for the characters like it’s all real. I hope to help people find their passion. I want to give people the gift like Lauren Kate, Cassandra Clare and Margaret Stohl & Kami Garcia gave me.

Read Me, Read Me

“Read me, read me!”
They sing to me
As I waltz around the library
“Please, form an orderly queue,
I can only read you one at a time.”
They fight and squabble ,
In competition
Flaunting their stylish covers.

And then I choose.

Spilled ink,
A book in hand;
It’s all so close.
I feel it.
I’m there.

Words dance on metaphorical tongue,
I know this.
I can do it.
Names, faces,
People, places
Appear from light.
Unfamiliar territory,
But I know this place.

Emotional overflow,
Relaxation in its highest state
This is where I belong.
Inside my head,
I know this.

No distractions.
No threatening events.
I need this
I want this.

These Warm Bodies

i know what youre thinking i am dead

i arrived past breaking almost broken beyond

how difficult is it to make a sandwich well ive learned to live with it


a hungover chef with no appetite

no life

you cook the bacon i linger


i am dead inserted in the earth like slices of bread

the rain was like sauce to my burial

i remember that day

my only illiterate memory since i hold no language no more

the soil that held me holds no more

i lack which attributes make a person

yet i am here

longing for this hunger to be filled

theres little doubt that i want to eat you

it wouldnt be hard

yet i have want to doubt

i should not wish to doubt

i should not wish at all

desire is is a sign of consciousness

i am dead

i am dead

i am dead

i repeat this until i cant see your through my rotted dirty eyes

yet i can still smell your fresh flesh singing in the air i do not breathe


it calls out to me begging for my teeth

begging for death

my stomach invisibly growls stop

i did not want to walk the earth again

i do not want to

i am dead

simplicity of execution should justify this meal

breathe her in follow your rotten gut

its not so bad i know that

i dont have a need for morals now

but i wish i did

i want to ask for your name

i want to ask for the veins in your neck your heart your brain

im a juxtaposition i know

i shouldnt know and i know that

your voice makes my heart want to beat

but i know mine would stop yours so i just linger here

hoping to either eat you or date you like a person

not a dirty broken creature as i