- by Laura Markert, age 15.

She was born many years ago
In the early days of spring
When the blossoms where just blooming,
and the river returning to life.

She has seen many times when the earth changes forms
When the days grow colder and the nights are long
When the hottness of the day makes her grow weary,
But still, she awaits her most favorite of times.

She silently waits. Waits for when the birds in the sky
fly to the south
For when the leaves atop her head change to the hundreds
of different colors.

The leaves are her friends, her companions, her children
They flutter in the breeze as they change their shades
From dull and wrinkeled to bright and smooth
From brown and dark green to firery red and golden yellow.

But soon the wind will come and take her children.
It rips them from their branches and takes them far,
far away.

Yet she is not sad nor is she mad
She is exited and exuberant.
Yes, the turbulent winds have taken her friends
But still, she is happy.

She waves goodbye to her children as the
cold sets in her bark.
And she thinks of how happy she will
be next year when she will have more.

She falls into a deep sleep and dreams
of the year to come
When her children will be born again and she
will live once more.

Guess what, kids? That's right, more news on the writer's strike. Yay! So what's the news? Um, pretty much nothing.

There were rumors about talks going on soon. But no. It was all a lie. Or maybe they're in talks, but they're still no where near deciding. As I've mentioned, the Grammys will still go on; however, it might not be the same program we've come to love. Many musicians who are also actors (like Justin Timberlake) don't want to cross the picket line. So the show might be a shell of it's former self. And that's made those nice people who run the Oscars a little nervous. Will the Oscars be able to go on as scheduled? Only time will tell.

With practically no new TV on (besides Lost, but that only has a few episodes that were filmed before the strike), I've been forced to take drastic measures. I've done something I swore I'd never do, and I don't think I can even look myself in the eye anymore (not that I could before, I'm not that flexible). That's right, I watched ... sports.

Shudder.

Not just any sports either, but the Super Bowl. Well, most of it anyway. OK, some of it. I just couldn't do that to myself. But from what I could gather, it was a pretty exciting game. (I've been told to say, "Yay, Giants!")

Come on, Writer's Guild members. Don't do this to me. I mean, yes, Tom Brady is hot, even though he's not on the team I was supposed to be rooting for. And yes, I live in New York, so it was cool to have a New York team. But I don't like sports. Gym class was always a nightmare for me, and I'm afraid of some post traumatic stress flashback to volleyball my junior year. I'm not meant to watch sports. I'm meant to watch new TV shows.

I know you all know what I'm talking about.

So, I'm sure (actually 100 percent postive) that you are all more athletic than I am, and enjoyed the Superbowl. What did you think? Any Giants fans out there? And for those of you sad about the writer's strike, which shows do you miss the most?

Yesterday was February 1st. Oh hey! I guess that means today is Groundhog Day! Cool! Does anyone know if he saw his shadow?

But that's not what I came here to talk about today. Please bear with me. I'm easily distracted. Oh look, a puppy!

Um.

I finished reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy yesterday. I have nothing good to say about it except that it won the Pulitzer... so I guess someone somewhere must have liked it. Wherever you are, I'd really like to have a conversation with you. I just don't understand what you were thinking. Maybe it's just me?

Moving right along...

Last night I started the mammoth experience that is Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. I'm not going to lie. I was scared. I've been looking forward to this since I got the new translation for Christmas... but I've also been dreading it. I don't want to be the guy in the Challenge that says, "Um, yeah, I quit." And besides that, I also don't want to be the guy who misses out on this classic literature because of some weak notion that "it's too hard. Wah." Oh stop it.

I cracked open the book around 9:00 last night. Gingerly, I turned the first few pages. I stared at the title page for a good minute or so, thinking to myself: "After you turn this page, Bry, there's no turning back." Hmm... well maybe it wasn't as dramatic as all that after all. But the title page was very pretty and yes, even inviting.

The next few pages flew by pretty easily as well. The copyright information, and Table of Contents were a breeze. No sweat! Bring it Tolstoy!

Then came the introduction...

"If the world could write by itself, it would write like Tolstoy."
    -- Isaac Babel

Nice! What a flattering quote! What else?

I kept reading. (Incidentally, the introduction was written by the translator, Richard Pevear.)

"War and Peace is the most famous and at the same time the most daunting of Russian novels..."  oh boy ... "as vast as Russia itself and as long to cross from one end to the other. Yet if one makes the journey, the sights seen and the people met on the way mark one's life forever."

Ahh. My fellow WORD enthusiasts, can I just tell you what a breath of fresh air this was? No, not that. What am I trying to say? ... These first words, found here in the introduction, gave me not only a sense of hope and excitement for the next 1200+ pages, it also brought me directly out of my nervous funk and into the world of this sweeping Russian literature.

The rest of the introduction talked about Tolstoy as a man. Who he was and how he wrote. I'll save this for future bloggy posts as I can see this one is getting a little long and I want to tell you about the beginning of Volume One, Part One.

That's right. You heard me. VOLUME ONE. This book is so massive, it has actual Volumes. Ha! You gotta love it!

I read the first 25 pages of Volume One, Part One last night. I was surprised at how much fun it was! Seriously surprised! At first, I had a little trouble with the character names and the French... oh yes, the characters in this part anyway, speak some French and the translations are in footnotes at the bottom of the page. Sheesh! You get used to that too though.

Rather than go on and tell you the story so far, I'll just say that I am now over my fears and look forward to this great read. It's probably one of the toughest books I have ever tackled. But every once and again you have to challenge yourself. In literature and in life. OK, that was cheesy. I'm just inspired and excited, that's all. And I'm going to go read some more now.

How you doin, Alicia and Audra??

Word.

I was just thinking. (Yes, I tend to do that occasionally. But don't worry, it doesn't happen too frequently.) Have you ever read a book more than once? And not just twice, or even three times, but so many times that the binding is all cracked and the pages are in danger of falling out and you could probably recite it line for line?

I'm asking because right now I'm re-reading Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason by Helen Fielding for about the zillionth time. (I've also read Bridget Jones's Diary a zillion times as well. The first one is better, but Edge of Reason has its charm.) It's partially because I haven't had a chance to go to the book store in awhile, and partially because if I don't have something to read on the train I'll fall asleep and miss my stop and not be able to come in and blog for all of you, and I don't want all of you crying. I just can't handle that pressure! But anyway, I'm mostly re-reading it for the zillionth time because, well, I love it. I do. I know every joke, and I cry at the same parts every time. But I still love it. And I never get bored reading it.

It's a really weird phenomenon.

Seriously, right? I mean, I'm sure you all have read a book multiple times, and it didn't bring you any less pleasure. Maybe, if you were older when you read it again, you were able to appreciate it on a different level. Maybe it brings you comfort. Of maybe it's just an awesome book. But it's weird, because I don't think there's any other type of medium where this can be replicated.

Movies can be watched multiple times and still be enjoyable, but I feel like you need more time in between each viewing. If not, it gets a little tedious.

TV shows definitely can't be watched multiple times. For example, I love the show Lost (which starts again today, by the way, and I'm so excited!), and yesterday, last year's season finale was on. Now, I tried to watch it to get pumped for today. But, after just a few minutes, I had to turn it off. Not even Josh Holloway could keep my attention. I would much rather have been reading my book!

Now, if a hottie like Josh Holloway cannot keep my attention on a second viewing, well, then that gets my attention. It just goes to show you how much pleasure you can get from a favorite book.

So, what's your favorite book that you've read ten bajillion times? What do you like about it? Are you excited for Lost? We can compare our theories tomorrow.