Stage Fright, and the difference between oboes and bassoons

So there I was. About to do my big solo. On my bassoon.

For the record, this is not a bassoon.

This is an oboe.


                  Bassoon ==>

         <==  Oboe:

                  Bassoon ==>




They are both part of the double-reed family, but one is much deeper than the other. They are related. Not the same. Neither of them are too terribly popular, but I don't care. I love my bassoon.

Good. Now that that's cleared up.

I was about to play my bassoon in front of three judges who would decide my future for me. Everything. Right there in that room. That huge, echo-y room. They would tell me if I was going to be in a Bachelor of Music Program or not. They were going to tell me if I could be a composer or not. They were going to tell me if I had any skill in playing this instrument or not.

So naturally, I had little to no nerves leading up to the day of the performance. I mean, I'd only been rejected from the program once before, it's not like there was any added pressure of knowing they'd already deemed me unworthy of the spot. This time was in person! So I could actually watch their faces wrinkle up in pain with every wrong note, or tilt sideways when I started to change speed for no reason.

Nerves? Never heard of them. Stage fright? PSHH!!

So anyway.

I don't think I've ever had such an acute moment of stage fright all my life. That moment had me in a borderline panic attack. I can distinctly remember starting to fail at breathing. I would go to breathe in, and it just wouldn't work. My lungs just decided to take a break for once in my life. Of all the days for them to go on a holiday that was the worst one they could have picked. I remember starting to flub every couple notes. I was starting to flounder. I couldn't look up at them. I had to keep my eyes on the page. I couldn't watch them, or I'd surely burst into a puddle of despair and self-loathing. I just kept staring at the tiny black dots in front of me. Willing my eyes to scan the page farther and farther as my lips started to burn, and my chest started to heave.

Halfway through my most challenging song they showed me mercy, and allowed me to stop. They had evidently heard all they needed to hear. I left that room completely drained, and yet at the same time completely liberated. It was over. I wouldn't have to do it again, or if I did, it wouldn't be for a very long time.

The funny thing is, this was very similar to how I felt sending off my first query letter to an agent. I was terrified of hitting the send key. I kept wondering what would happen when I did it. What would they say? What would they think of me? They don't even know me, what kinds of things will they assume about me based on this? Sometimes the hardest part is just not knowing though. Once I sent off my first letter and found out it was a no, it was almost better than before, when I hadn't sent anything. At least it wasn't a 'what if' anymore. It was a reality, and I could actually deal with it.

That's the thing about the things we're scared of. As long as they're imaginary things, or things that aren't yet real, they can be the most frightening things in the world, and they can paralyze us. But as soon as it becomes tangible, as soon as the fear has become physical, then it's something you can face. It's something you can defeat. I would never have been able to defeat my stage fright if I hadn't gotten up on stage. I would never have learned how to deal with people rejecting my book if I had never sent it out in the first place. It's such a cliche, but it's something that I've seen over and over again in my life, and I can't say enough how true I've found it to be.

The unknown is so much more intimidating than the known. Because the unknown could very well be as bad as you've imagined, but the known can only be as bad as you see it to be. Once you know how bad it is, you can do something about it. Until then, all you can do is cower.

(For the record, I actually didn't make it into a Bachelor of Music, they didn't accept me that time either. I was in a Bachelor of Arts majoring in Music at the U of C. But I came to love the people who were my judges on that jury panel, and one went on to be my second all-time favourite teacher. I do NOT see that audition as a failure, but a signpost pointing towards where God's leading me.)


What's the scariest thing you've ever done?

P.S. I'm sorry to anyone reading this on a mobile device. I can't figure out how to make the pictorial representation of bassoons and oboes look good on a phone and on the web at the same time. I'm a writer and a musician, not a techie. I tried that, it didn't work. 

Can you put a price-tag on truth?

How much is the truth worth? What would you sacrifice to have it? What would you give up to share that truth? Would you give up your time? Money? Energy?

What about your job? What about your peace of mind? Would you give up your safety? Or someone else's safety?

How important is it to know the truth?

I guess that really depends on what truth we're talking about doesn't it?

If we're talking about the truth that I currently have ten plane tickets from various flights tacked to my wall, or the truth that as yet unpublished my novel Clone is a little over 75,000 words, you probably don't care too much.

If we're talking about a government conspiracy that's deliberately sabotaging every blonde's education so that they're barred from going to university, you'd probably care quite a bit more. So I suppose these questions are all going to end up being quite relative to each person depending on what truth they have in mind.

But what about just the concept of truth? Not one specific truth, but the idea of it. There are lots of people today who would argue the fact that truth can even exist, they may be reading this post right now. How do you feel about that? Do you want to fight for it? Do you care?

I know I do. It's actually one of the issues I explore in the book I'm seeking to get published. The desire to know the truth, and the desire to share that truth with others for no other reason than to have the truth out there. Simply because it should be. Is that a bad thing? Lots of people in the book think so.

We live in a society where secrets are some of the most valuable things we possess. We guard them with our lives. Hoard them like gems. Our privacy is something so precious to us that we will fight tooth and nail to keep it. I think a lot more people are concerning themselves with making sure the truth will never surface than to see the truth come out. And what has that done for us? Not a whole heck of a lot. It's created an untrusting, closed, distant society where no one really knows anyone else.

In some genres - like mystery - deceit, and veiled truth are the most valuable things of all. The whole point of the book is that you don't know the whole truth. So I guess in some situations we actually take pleasure out of not knowing the truth. After all, who doesn't enjoy a surprise birthday party every once in a while?

Even still, sometimes I really wish that there could be no more secrets. I just wish that the whole truth were always out there 24/7. Things would be a lot simpler. Sincerity would be a real thing again. Survivor would never work.

"Are you in an alliance with Jen?"
"Yep."
"And are you going to vote me out tonight?"
"Yep."
"Well, I'm thoroughly disappointed but not surprised. I'll go pack my stuff."

Oh ya, great suspense. But I digress.

I guess what I'm saying is, I would love for the truth to not just be a moment, or a particular phrase, but a state of being. I think that's what God's will would be for us. to live in complete truth with one another, and in so doing, draw nearer to him. To never keep any hidden sin in our lives, and always confess it openly.

But for so many people that will never happen, because we're fearful. We're scared of what might happen. We like our secrets. We like that no one really knows us because if they did they'd know just how messed up we all are. Does that mean I never have secrets? No. Because I'm not perfect either. I'm just saying it would be a lot easier to be truthful if that was just the norm.

I can only speak for myself, but I know I'd give almost anything to have the truth. The real cold hard truth all the time. Our world would be a much better place if we could just be honest with each other.

I guess the real question is, could we handle the truth all the time?


So what do you think? Truly? How valuable is the truth?

I'm Back! ...Kind of.

I mean, I'm in Canada now, just not Calgary. :P

Greetings my illustrious, loyal, numerous blog followers! Where has the time gone? It seems like forever ago that I last posted.

First off, let me say that Mexico was nice, but as far as I'm concerned, Canada is WAY better. I'm currently reading The Wizard of Oz for the first time, and I thought what it said was actually very fitting. Yes, I know what you're thinking "There's no place like home.", and that IS what I was going to say, but there's more to it than that.

In the book, there's a conversation that Dorothy and the Scarecrow have that doesn't appear in the movie. Dorothy is walking through Oz with the Scarecrow, and she sees the amazing flowers and trees and everything is really colourful. Dorothy explains how everything in Kansas is gray, and the only people around are her aunt and uncle. The first chapter explains that the only thing that brings Dorothy joy is her dog Toto... and Toto is IN Oz with her!

When Dorothy is asked why she is so eager to get back to Kansas, she says simply that "There's no place like home." I don't know why, but after that context was given, the statement held a lot more weight for me.

In Mexico I saw palm trees, beautiful beaches, and had tons of amazing food. But none of that matters to me, because at the end of the day it's not my home, and there really is no place like home. There's some kind of intrinsic value to it that pure setting can't beat. When you have a place where you feel you can truly belong, where you have friends, and a life ahead of you, no beach in the world could possibly be worth more.

*sniff* *sniff* I'm getting all emotional now!

But seriously, I really like Canada. Like, A LOT. So I think that I'm gonna stay a while.

As for blogging, that may not be quite as consistent as I'd hoped it could be. As my internet connection here is VERY touchy. There may be some days when I won't be able to post on the right day, but just know that I'm still here, and I'm still doing... writer stuff. As well as leading an english camp. So that'll be fun! Tomorrow's my first day. Wish me luck!

Photoshoots, Planes and Good-Byes Oh My!

So this could have easily been two posts, but I figured I'd stick to my two posts a week thing and combine the two. So here goes. Light stuff first.

Last Saturday I went out with a great friend of mine, Hannah, and did a bit of a photoshoot in downtown Calgary! It was so that I could have some more professional-looking images of myself to put on things like MY BLOG, the back cover of my future book, book proposals, etc...

What I didn't expect was for it to be such a fun and hilarious time of just goofing around and taking pictures in random areas that you'd never expect would turn out.

So here's a few of my favourites from that day. Calgarians, can you spot where they were taken? :P

One thing I loved about the whole thing was that there were some places that I really honestly did not think were going to be good settings for photos. But they turned out really great! They were some of the most obscure spots ever, but they were awesome, and I'm so glad we did them.

It's funny how often we skip over random places in our everyday life never stopping to see the beauty of it all. We never bother to look beyond the mundane to see the extraordinary because we've convinced ourselves already that it's not there. We subconsciously "know" that something as normal as a mirrored wall isn't worth our time.

This trip has definitely made me more aware of my surroundings, and I actually find myself thinking about other possible venues for photoshoots. I think more than half the fun was just doing wacky shots and running all over the place together. Thanks Hannah for an awesome time! It wasn't even close to being as awkward as I'd feared it might be! (People only stared at us a couple times. I almost felt like an actual celebrity! :P)





Now to Planes and Good-byes.

*Sigh*

This is honestly so sad for me to say, but this is my last blog post from Calgary for quite some time. I won't be back here till September.

I KNOW. September.

I'll try to keep posting lots, but I can't make any guarantees at this point. I'll definitely be taking at least a week hiatus while in Mexico, but after that who knows. Hopefully by the time I'm settled in Quebec I'll be able to get re-established into my routine of blogging.

I'm really not looking forward to being gone for so long though. It feels like I'm some kind of toffee being stretched between hungry children. I have people I want to be with on both sides of the country and in the middle, but never before has the division between them seemed so significant.

I really think what a friend of mine told me tonight is true. When you go into a new situation where you don't know anyone, you become super attached to the people you do latch on to. You feel so lonely at first that anyone you can get along with you stick to like glue and hold on for dear life. It's as if you don't have any life-lines, so you anchor down as soon as you can, and the friends that you make are all really important to you really quickly.

Having said that, I grew up in Nova Scotia, I love the place, and I love the people too. The simple fact of the matter is I don't live there anymore, I live in Calgary. That's really hard for some people to hear, but you have to understand that this is not some kind of 'us vs. them' thing of who can get Seth to themselves, it's just about where God's putting me right now. I feel like I'm meant to be in Calgary, so that's where I'm gonna be. This summer I'm gonna be in Quebec working with my sister whom I love dearly and want to hang out with lots before she goes and gets married.

I'm trying to think of ways to relate all of this back to writing, but to be perfectly honest I just don't feel like I want to right now. It's all so close to home, and all so real that it's hard for me to step back and just say "That makes me consider how this relates to my dreams of getting published..."

 Saying good-bye has never been easy for me. Villa du Carmel, Encounters with Canada, Park View Education Centre, Saint-Prosper, Bridgewater, and now Calgary. The one huge thing that's been super helpful in learning to cope this time 'round is the fact that I'll be coming back for sure. So many times I've had to explain to little kids that I wouldn't be there for them next time. It killed me to say good-bye to my Terrain du Jeux in Saint-Prosper. It killed me to say good-bye to all my Encounters buddies. (I still stay in touch with a few, here's to Sue and Jess! :D)

All that to say, I'm gonna miss all of you guys, and I wish there could be some way for everyone I know to just all live in the same place so that I could be with everyone. It's not fair that cloning hasn't been approved for use by the general public. One of these days...


Feel free to comment on any photos you like, and if you want to see more I'll see if I can make a page on here with a wider selection of the good ones I got. Do you have anything to add on the subject of goodbyes? Leave a comment below. See ya in September Calgary! It's been a blast!

Just get it over with!

Isn't it funny how often the fear of something happening is more terrible than the actual thing itself? It's an interesting fact of life that I've seen come up in my own experience over and over again. I've also seen the idea approached in many interesting ways.

My favourite example of this is from a cartoon I used to watch occasionally when I was in Junior High. I say occasionally because honestly, it wasn't all that great, but sometimes it would have an episode that was just golden. This one was just such an episode.

The basic premise was that in this kingdom, there was a monster that had come up from out of the sea and was approaching the town these characters lived in. This monster was very large, formidable, and dangerously powerful. That made the situation bad. What made it much worse, was the fact that this monster had the peculiar attribute of taking ever shorter steps. Each step it made toward the kingdom was half the length of the last step, and according to the calculations of a robot in the city, the monster would never stop approaching the city, but it would also never reach it.

The king thought this was excellent news, but the townspeople were nearly driven mad by this revelation, because they were in constant expectation of an attack. They were so fearful of what would happen that they eventually convinced the king to send people out to figure out a way to get the monster to actually get it to them right away and attack the kingdom! That's how desperate they were. So in the end, they succeeded, and the monster ran into the kingdom, destroyed a bunch of stuff, and ran off. When it was all over, the people celebrated in the streets because they could finally move on with their lives and stop living in fear!

These last few days I've been plagued with a certain decision I had to make, and now that I've made it, it's like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Honestly, this afternoon I didn't care what the outcome was anymore, I just wanted to be DONE. I was so sick of trying to decide and worrying about the consequences of the decision. No matter what the outcome was, I just wanted it to come so that I could deal with it and get it over with.


It's amazing to me how often this can be applied to novels. How much better is it to have the constant fear of death hanging over a character rather than just killing them outright? How much more intense is it to watch a character trying to figure out how something is going to happen rather than just finding out right away?

I see this as another thing that can kind of go hand in hand with the idea that the journey can oftentimes be more important than the destination. When I was building my tree-fort, I enjoyed the act of building just as much, if not more than just having it there in the woods. In the same way, I think that we can sometimes learn a lot more about ourselves, and about patience and confronting fear by going through these times of uncertainty. It forces us to really take a look at what we're doing and make tough choices. I feel like this has been a sucky couple of days to slog through, but in the end, I'm glad to have had them, because they've made me a better decision maker, and have challenged me in new, important ways.


How often do you wish you could skip the waiting and get straight to the outcome, be it good or bad?

You're Just Not Worth It.

I've been debating whether or not to post this for a while, and I've finally just decided to go for it. This is a poem I wrote a few weeks ago, written from a girl's perspective. That may sound weird, but it'll make sense at the end of the poem.

You're just not worth it.

It's just not going to work out

between you and I.

So I have to end this.

No hard feelings, I just can't afford this relationship.

A woman's got to have the right to choose

who she lets into her life.

If only these were different circumstances

I might have been able to cope.

But I never expected to see you - not now. You just weren't

part of my plans.

I'm sure you'll understand one day.

You're just not worth it.

Don't you see how much pain you'll cause me?

Don't you understand what I'd have to go through

to make this work?

Do you realize how terrible it was for me

when I found out about you?

You were supposed to be something great

for me.

But you're really just an

inconvenience.

I'm sorry, but you have to go.

You're just not worth it.

I've thought this through a million times,

and everyone I've talked to agrees.

You wouldn't be good for me.

Just not right now. I have to do

the responsible thing.

I have to do what's right

for me.

My future is riding on this,

I can't let you jeopardize everything.

You're just not worth it.

Some might argue with me.

They say I'm not being fair, and

I know it's not your fault.

But at this point, that's not the issue.

Who's to blame doesn't matter,

what matters is you're here

and you shouldn't be.

You're just not worth it.

I'm not heartless.

I'm making the best decision I know how to make.

I've done my research on your kind, and

I know what could happen,

so I'm not going to take any risks.

I'm taking you out of my life

before you can cause me any pain.

You're just not worth it.

Once you're gone

I'll move on with my life.

I won't regret it for a moment.

It will be like you never even

existed.

I won't remember you.

You're just not worth it.

One moment is all it takes.

One moment, and you're gone.

Like the flip of a switch, the

blowing out of a candle.

I'll let you go like the sand in my fingers.

You're just not worth it.

I'll admit though, the idea

of having you here with me

still clings to my mind even now.

But I'll shut you out. I must.

You're just not worth it.

Time is fleeting. Time to

decide.

Time to give you up.

You're just not worth it.

It's time to say goodbye, but I feel like

I never got the chance to get to know you.

You're just not worth it.

In the end, you were never worth the trouble, because

you're just not worth it.

My baby.

This poem was my reaction to an article I read on abortion. A lot of the lines are actually almost exact quotes from women who have had abortions. This poem sums up basically the way I see most women thinking through this situation. You have no idea how much it saddens me to know that there are millions of people who have been told this, whether while they were still in the womb, during middle school, or in the adult world. So many people have been told that they're just not worth someone's time, respect, or love.

It doesn't matter who you're talking to, you don't have the right to tell someone they don't deserve to live because they're an inconvenience to you. Killing a child is never the responsible thing to do. I realize this is a very controversial issue, and there are many aspects to this debate. Do not read into this and assume that I hate women who have had abortions. I'm grieved by their decisions, but that doesn't mean that I hate who they are or something like that. My feelings about this issue stem entirely from my desire for everyone to have a chance to come into this world and live their own life.


I think one of my all-time favourite heroes from my childhood said it best, when he declared that "A person's a person, no matter how small." I'm not trying to put words into the author's mouth here, I'm just saying what I've always taken out of that story. And that is simply that it doesn't matter how insignificant someone may seem, they matter to God, and therefore they matter to me.


I don't think I need to ask any questions to get people commenting on this one, but I would like to just request that we all remain civil in our discussion of this issue. Just think about what you say before commenting. That is all.

That's Love

She came in for books
to aid as she taught.
The ones that I showed her
were just what she sought.

Her student had trouble;
she couldn't remember.
The fires of learning
in her were an ember.

I looked on in wonder
"This teacher's a hero."
Her patience was boundless,
complaints numbered zero.

She never once told me
her life was so tough.
She didn't break down
or say she'd had enough.

She just had compassion.
A desire to teach
that mind that she found
was so hard to reach.

I'm sure that she'd say
that it's really no bother
who else, if not she,
would help her sick mother?



I wrote this poem shortly after helping a woman who had come in with her mother looking for some resources to help her recover from dementia. It was such an inspiring moment for me. The love that this woman had for her mom was incredible. She kept thanking me for helping her find the books she needed, and the whole time all I could think was "Are you kidding me? You're the one who's doing all the work here! You're the one who's standing by your mother through thick and thin!"

The truth is, she could have let her mother sit alone in a nursing home for the rest of her life. Lots of people do it, it really wouldn't have been a huge deal to most people. But from what I've seen of her, it looks like she's made the choice to be an active part in her mother's recovery. Granted I don't know all the details, I honestly just know the little that she told me while I was helping her find books, but that doesn't really matter all that much to me. Because I saw in her eyes, and heard in her voice all I needed to hear to know her motives in this.

This was a woman determined to make her mother well again. She loved her mom so much, and it showed in the way she spoke about her, to her, her attitude, and her spirit. She told me of the improvements they'd had already with the nurse/aide they'd been working with. She had such devotion, and tenderness toward her mother. It was awe-inspiring. I only hope that under similar circumstances I could act in a similar fashion.

How often do we look at people around us as less than deserving of our love? How often do we just walk by random people on the street without thinking twice about who they are, and what their life has been like? Had I not been told this lady's story, I most likely would have seen her as just another elderly lady like many I used to see during my visits with my great-grandmother when she was still alive.

So I guess what I'm saying is, caring about others might not always be easy, but when it's genuine, it can really make an impact. I know that the small glimpse I saw of the love of this daughter to her mother profoundly affected me. And I only saw them for 15 minutes. How will you make yourself known to the people you meet in your everyday life? How do you want to be known by strangers?

I thought this post was especially appropriate coming off the heels of mother's day. So here's to you Mom. Thanks for everything.

A Leap of Faith

First off, I just want to say, bungee jumping has always been something I've wanted to do.

And I can now officially say that I've done it.

Going bungee jumping was absolutely thrilling, and terrifying, and exhilarating, and nerve-racking.

Before the jump part of me just wanted to turn around and say "No way. This is not going to happen." ... but the part of me that said "You've been waiting your whole life to do this, just go!!!" won out.

And I'm so glad it did.

Right before I went for the jump, as the guys working there were cinching me up getting me strapped in tightly, I asked one of them "Has anyone ever died on this tower?" And to my surprise, they said

"No, not on this tower."

Then I asked, "What was the worst injury someone sustained?"

"Just some bruises really." Then he described to me how one or two people had hurt themselves a bit more seriously, but only because they did stupid things like bungee jump by their wrists or things like that.


That was actually probably the best thing for me to hear at that moment. Basically, I just needed to know. You're not going to die if you do this. You're going to be alright.


And you know what? It's the same for my writing career.

I am absolutely terrified of sending off my manuscript to agents. I have no idea if anyone is going to like my writing, and I feel like as soon as I start sending it off, I'm going to be jumping off a ledge with no way back. I'm going to find out if I can write, and that knowledge will change things for me. No matter what happens, I won't be in total ignorant bliss anymore. I'll know one way or another.

It could be awesome, it could be heart-breaking, but you know what?

It won't kill me.

At the end of the day, if all I sustain are a few bruises, then I'll be okay with that. At some point I'm going to have to just be okay with what I've got, and accept the fact that someday, if I really want to be an author, I have to take the plunge. I have to take that leap of faith, and put myself out there as a serious writer.

Did I mention that's really scary??


Now, don't think too hard about this metaphor, it's not something ultra-profound or super applicable, but I think in this case it works. I realize people have died from bungee jumping before, but that's not the point of this example. Like I said, try not to think about it too hard.

A lot of people have been asking me how it felt to go bungee jumping, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how to describe it. It felt utterly surreal. Like I was in the most life-like dream I've ever had. I've had lots of dreams that ended in falling, but when I went bungee jumping, instead of a sense of sheer terror, I felt utter thrill and elation as I plummeted down toward the water below. Right before jumping, all I could think of, was Buzz Lightyear with his eyes closed about to jump off the side of Andy's bed saying "To infinity, AND BEYOND!!" Then I fell, with style. :P No more prep time needed. No more pep talks required. Just a willingness to jump, and the knowledge that it would all be ok in the end.

I don't know what it will feel like when I send my book off to the "professionals". It could be everything I've dreamed of, or it might not be. The fear of the latter has kept me paralyzed for a long time. I've been doing a lot of stuff to basically just put off sending query letters to agents because I keep feeling like I'm not ready, and I need to prepare more. But how long is that going to drag on for? At this point, I think it's time to go out there and just do it. Seriously, why wait to chase your dreams tomorrow, when in reality you could be doing that today?

Basically all I'm trying to say, is sometimes, there's only so much preparation you can do.

The rest, you just have to leave up to gravity.


What about you? What's holding you back? Or have you already taken the plunge?

A Person's A Person, No Matter How Small

My absolute favourite Dr. Seuss story is "Horton Hears a Who".

"What?" You may ask.

To which I would reply, "No, a WHO."


While it's true, this probably isn't Dr. Seuss' most famous story, it has remained near and dear to my heart for many years. The recent re-make was one of the only movies I've ever watched twice in theatres. The reason why? Because in this story, we see two people fighting against everyone they know, and everything they've seen or heard to defend their belief in each other. To me, this is awe-inspiring.


For those of you who haven't watched/read Horton Hears a Who, SHAME ON YOU - I mean, that's okay. I'll give you a quick run-down of the plot. *Spoiler Alert* (You really should just read it on your own when you get the chance, if you haven't noticed I highly recommend it)


Synopsis

 One day, in the Jungle of Nool, Horton the Elephant hears a small noise, which he soon attributes to a small speck of dust - being the only thing around. Eventually he discovers that there must be very small people on this speck, too tiny to see. When a sour kangaroo hears of this, she says it's absurd, and tries to destroy the dust speck because it's obvious to her that there couldn't possibly be people that small. Meanwhile, on top of the dust speck, the scientist/mayor (depending on which version you watch or read) tries to warn the town of Whoville that they are in danger and that their whole world rests on a speck, but no one believes him. So both Horton and the mayor spend the better half of the book trying to convince the people around them that there is another world out there that they can't see, hear or touch. This culminates in an intense moment where Horton is tied up and thrown in a cage by the kangaroo and a few monkeys, and the speck is about to be dropped in a pot of boiling beezlenut oil. The whole town tries to shout out "We are here!" to stop this from happening, but no one can hear them until the smallest who of all lets out one tiny "Yop". When all is said and done, no one believed in the who's because they were so small, but their whole world was saved by the smallest of all - reinforcing the central theme that Horton states early on, "A person's a person, no matter how small."


It's incredible that cartoon characters can sometimes communicate themes like this more effectively than live-action actors.


Why I love it


For me, when I see Horton giving it his all, and never doubting the Who's existence for a moment, it just makes me that much more invested in the story, and makes the "roping and caging" scene so much more intense. I think that anyone with a strong sense of justice will always be more involved in a story when the main character is put through great trials through no fault of his own, or accused of wrong when innocent. Horton did nothing to deserve the sour kangaroo's wrath, but even when she did unspeakable things to him, he never once lashed out at her, or insulted her, or tried to get back at her in any way. In fact, when all was said and done, he readily forgave her.


Similarly, the who's did nothing to deserve being thrown in a pot of boiling beezlenut oil, and all their efforts to be heard seem completely in vain until the very last moment when the smallest who lets out that yop.


When I was watching this in the theatres, I remember the "We are here/roping and caging" scene very vividly. Watching the who's doing everything they can to make noise, and Horton doing everything he can to keep them safe is absolutely riveting. Granted, this story may fall under the category of "I watched it when I was young so I can't find any faults with it.", but I don't think that's the only reason why I like it.

In the end, this story is about belief. It's about believing in what you can't see regardless of what people around you think. Horton and the mayor were both made fun of, ostracized and rejected for what they believed, but they stuck to their guns, and kept pushing no matter what the cost.


Why this matters to me as a writer

As an writer, I'm always trying to think of ways to create compelling, likeable characters for my stories. Something that has recently come up through thinking about Horton Hears a Who, has been the aspect of belief. If a character is realistic, they're going to have some core beliefs that really mean a lot to them. I think a really powerful way to get people to care about a character is to portray that character as someone who will stick to what they believe, no matter what people around them say. Of course, this can become problematic when those beliefs prove to be erroneous, but at least for me, I hate a flip flopper.

I can't stand it when a character is tossed to and fro depending on the current thoughts of the time. I love to see dynamic characters that can change, but who don't just change because everyone tells them to. I want to see them change as a result of the story. As a result of what they've experienced, and from their own introspection. How can you respect someone's values if they're constantly changing them? How can you root for a character that's changing their motives every five minutes?

I love Horton because of his determination, and his guts. I honestly don't care much that he isn't all that three-dimensional. I'm okay with the fact that he doesn't necessarily have any character flaws, or anything to make him more 'realistic'. He's an elephant. He's a cartoon. He doesn't have to be some ultra-realistic person anyone could relate to. He's a likeable character that goes through a lot because he's loyal, kind, and he never gives up.

Why this matters to me as a person

In a way, even though Horton isn't a real person, he's someone I can look up to. There are times when I want to shrink into the background and not say anything about my faith for fear of what others will think of me. There are days when I really don't want people to ask me about what I believe. But is this because I expect them to really persecute me like some people are being persecuted right now in other parts of the world?

I'm not exactly about to get roped and caged for what I believe in. But I'm still hesitant to voice my opinions in some areas. Why?

Because at the end of the day, I want people to like me.

Really, that's what it comes down to, and to be honest, that's pretty selfish. There are people out there literally dying to share their faith and I'm sitting in the corner twiddling my thumbs waiting for the topic of conversation to switch back to the weather. I think that there are areas in my life where I really need to be more like Horton and just say it like it is. "This is what I believe, this is why, and like it or not that's the way it is!"
  
I could go on and on about this story, and about how I also see the connection between the theme "A person's a person no matter how small" and abortion, but that would probably at least double this already lengthy post, so I'll save that lovely subject for another day.

But I want to know, what are your thoughts about this? Are you annoyed by people who "stick to their guns" and don't budge on their beliefs? Or do you admire them?


I realize no one's infallible, and sometimes we need to be open to correction from others, but at the end of the day, are you just a people pleaser? Or do you really, really believe what you say you believe?