Book news, Discussion

How Do You Read?

Image result for worldview

So you know that voice inside your head that narrates the story as you read the text on the page?

I just realised that most authors that I have read up to this point in my life have been of either American or British descent and also almost all of the books I have read were published in western society.

This got me thinking

The voice the author had while writing say a set of dialogue is different to the voice I hear when I read the exact same dialogue.

For example, if I’m reading a novel where two American teenagers go to a burger joint I’m assuming the author gave them American accents and western mannerisms.


As reading is a subconscious endeavour, despite the characters being American I give them the Australian accent I grew up learning. This is simply because I haven’t been exposed to real world American accents as much

Doesn’t that strike you as the weirdest thing?

50 people in a room could be reading the exact same page but since they have different backgrounds, life experiences etc ultimately they’re never really reading the exact same page.

I guess this is a really good way of understanding diversity and how when we travel beyond surface level everybody has a completely different worldview from yours.


Pieces | Trojan’s War

Pieces is a new addition here on Infinity Reads where I share some fictional pieces of writing I have written. Happy Blogmas Day Six!

Trojan’s War was a spur of the moment writing adventure. The original story is five pages so I’ve decided to add only a little snippet

“Watch your step, girl”

Spat a toned man as she bumped into him.

Probably another blood thirsty bastard from the fighting pits 

She could take him down. A jerk in the knee, a twist of the shoulder and a revolver to his head would bring the coward out in him.

But no. Trojan wasn’t here to attract attention, pulling her hood even lower she continued into an alley where it was hard to find ground amongst the sewage water. Trying to ignore the smell of shit she entered the first house on her right.

What was supposed to be a hospital had become the equivalent of an overflowing refugee camp. The sick lay on either side of her as she walked down the aisle trying not to step on a bleeding arm here or a disfigured face there. The only nurse in sight fed someone from a cup, she eyed Trojan suspiciously but by now she must’ve been used to the unexpected turnout of people so one more didn’t exactly matter.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

It was the wailing that drove Trojan mad.

Children wailing from hunger, men and women wailing to the Gods above for mercy, the old ones wailing for death to take them. So much sorrow and she couldn’t do a thing to help.

Because she was here to pick up a bomb.

“Within the storage room at the back, you will find a box of syringes, in there should be another box, wooden, you’ll know when you see it, and it’s very small but highly lethal”

Lord had given her those instructions while briefing her mission but as always, he’d forgotten to be specific enough.

It was a hospital which meant the storage room was full of syringes and with the welcome she’d received upon entering who knew however many sorts of diseases these things were carrying!

Using the folds of her robe as cover Trojan gingerly pursued from one shelf to another.

No. Wool gauges no. Ew was that blood. No. Oh wait yes

A dusty, transparent box full of syringes opened and unopened now rested in Trojan’s hands.  Instead of digging her hands into the horrifying stack she emptied it on the floor hoping the noise wouldn’t bring any attention.

It stood out like a thorn between roses, smaller than her palm and wooden as Lord had said, it was ugly.

But Trojan liked ugly, ugly meant anger and she had plenty of that

“Twist the knob on the bottom, give it ten seconds and boom”

Lord had gestured so wildly with his hands and the glint in his eyes had made even Trojan uncomfortable.

Ten seconds

“You know what that means right”

Lord had said, trying to look sympathetic but failing, no, he knew how this was going to go down all along.

“Suicide bombing”


Pieces | Letters of Rejection

Pieces is a new feature here on Infinity Reads where I share some fictional pieces of writing I have done over the year. Happy Blogmas Day Two!

The first installment is a monologue I had to write for my English class. It portrays the internal battle writers experience in a field where rejection becomes second nature. The monologue was inspired by Slyvia Plath’s poem ‘Words’

My tears transform into blood and submerge amongst the words imprinted upon the ominous letter. Each line of criticism is like the blow of an “axe” to my already fragile mind. Self-doubt courses through my body in a series of waves like those of an ocean filled with restless energy. There is an air of anticipation, specifically the gnawing sensation that this might be the time I won’t emerge from the depths of this ceaseless darkness that remains deeply ingrained in my existence.

The monster hides in the darkest crevices of my mind, bearing hot pincers and razor-sharp teeth, to whisper devious encouragements in the dead of the night. A false sense of purpose overpowers me until the words: like a galloping “horse” in an open field, begin to flood the pages, and I am left drowning and devoid of energy. Days and nights blur into the meaningless expanse of time, where my mind recognises only the cravings of the monster, and I subject myself to its will just to keep writing. My writing becomes my life.

Then the letters arrive. Each like a knife searing through my brittle existence, annihilating through my writing, through my life. The monster punishes me by digging its pincers into my brain, persisting with reckless abandon that I am to blame for the demise of my art, somewhere in my heart I believe it to be the truth. My state of being is defined by the food left untouched on the table, as well as the refusal to confront the plethora of unread messages on my phone. The “sap” of “tears” that floods not only from my eyes, but from my art, is a failed journey towards healing. Most prominently it is a reminder of the rejection that I ascertain will define the deterioration of my soul.

The monster, now seemingly satisfied with the depth of suffering I’ve endured, instructs me to fight back. It reassures me that rejection is part of my cosmic existence, and in order to relieve the pain, I must simply embrace it. There is a voice of reason in my mind that despises the idea of my art fading into oblivion, and it knows that fighting back will simply mean I further lose myself in this labyrinth of suffering. This voice knows that to preserve the remainder of my sanity, I must hide in the recesses of my mind. I decide to “submerge” myself in the mundane, like a stone hiding under the water in blissful ignorance. My art becomes an echo of a past lifetime: the words disappear under the weight of this world, replaced by a “weedy green” life of celebrating another’s success while my life-work resides in oblivion.

“Years later I encounter” my art in the crevices of moving boxes where dust has settled onto the pages, and the words have become “dry and riderless”. There remains nothing to give them life, as the spark inside me extinguished long ago. The memories of the monster and its encouragements are now but a distant echo. Yet, as I light fire to the pages, the words “govern a life” of their own: they dance among the ashes, away from this world that never saw their beauty, travelling into a realm that has the ability to cherish the power they possess.

As I turn away, I feel pincers clawing in the back of my mind. Blood, axes, horses, tears, my art, and a voice with razor-sharp teeth whispers into my consciousness.

how to

How To Write a Good Review

I recently did a post on why I hate reading reviews so I thought it might be a good idea to do a follow-up post about what makes a good, attention drawing review and how you can go about writing one.

Of course I am no expert and my reviews are no where near perfect, I just think, according to me, a review must have these key elements to make it stand out.


  • Make sure your post has factual information about the book/film/product you’re reviewing and that it is easy to spot like so:


  • A clear and logical structure will make sure your opinion gets across and it’s easy for the reader to follow.
  • Avoid long paragraphs as people generally tend to skim over those
  • Experiment with different ways of presenting information such as using lists or dot points instead of conventional paragraphs.


  • Make sure your writing is coherent and easy to follow 
  • A well written review will always ensure your opinion is easy to understand
  • Avoid using long, hefty, words, the less pretentious the review is, the more people will want to come back and read your own unique voice
  • Good grammar and punctuation mean less headaches and more visitors- Read over your review at least once to make sure there are no typos


  • Add relevant pictures such as the cover of the book or a scene from a film to avoid your review from looking dull
  • Avoid overloading your post with GIFs- this will mean your words get lost in the GIFs
  • Experiment with different fonts, colours, things as simple as bold and italics to get your point across while keeping the post interesting.

My rock bottom advice while writing reviews would be to keep it minimalistic while making sure you’re saying everything you want to say. Reviews are a form of expression so of course you’re not bound by any rules but I just thought a post like this might help someone looking for a guideline as to how to write a review!



Book news

NaNoWriMo stages 4+5: Isolation and despair





Hey everybody!

Long time no talk.

I haven’t been properly blogging because I’ve got exams and it’s kinda hard to stay on top of things. So just bear with me okay? okay. 🙂

During Stage 4 of nanowrimo I didn’t feel significantly isolated no but there was a feeling of, I’m so alone in this. Being a first timer I haven’t got the hang of virtual write ins and twitter sprints and I can’t attend my local write ins because life!

So I did feel like I wasn’t getting as involved as I could but hey, you just gotta push through and that I did.

I have been lucky enough to not hit Stage 5 yet, despair.

I’ve learned that when I’m writing, I can go into this zone and block out exterior troubles which is very helpful since it’s encouraged me to write more!

Okay you’re gonna love this one!

Word count: 40090


Stay tuned for the big news guys. I’ll see you very soon



Nanowrimo stage #2: Denial

Sleep deprived and cranky I write to you again four days after my previous initial post.

The excitement levels are dwindling

I’m behind on my school work, have missed several due dates, but that’s okay

At the moment I can barely keep my eyes open but that’s okay.

I just realized that I have maths homework that absolutely needs to be done but I have to continue writing.

It;s okay everything is okay.

And by saying that I continue to live in denial of the fact that this month is slowly creeping stress into my brain but i have to finish this marathon. I made a commitment so after finishing this post I’m off to writing again. Not before doing my maths homework though

Also today is double up donation day so you can donate $25 to and receive $50 worth of Goodies! How awesome is that? it’s going to a good cause funding writing programs around the world. I’m doubling my word count and hope to write 5000 words today.

Total word count: 15733

How are you doing? I’ll check in with you soon




NaNoWriMo Stage #1: Excitement

Howdy folks,

Writing a novel is like running a marathon. In the beginning it’s all excitement. The gun has gone off or in this case your alarm clock signalling the start of this month long journey.

You’re highly positive and despite this being your first time writing a 50 000 word novel in a month you seem so completely sure of yourself.

There’s water for hydration, candies for energy, there’s your laptop and then there’s you. As the clock strikes twelve you race ahead, pumping out everything you have, saying that you’ll work extra hard and get that extra mile in so it won’t come back to bite you.

The words start pouring out of you faster than you can type and by the end of it you’re surprised to find that writing is actually so draining but you know what? you did it. You survived four days of this craziness managing to hit your word count.

My total word count NaNoWriMo day four: 8019

It doesn’t seem much compared to the big 50 000 but hey we’ll get there

Are you doing NaNoWriMo? I’m internally rooting for you!  If not then be a cheer leader and internally root for all the incredible suicidal people that have embarked on writing 50 000 words in a month.