Home > Topic > disorienting
1 " Like many of the kids I write about, I once was a runaway myself—and a few (but not all) of the other writers in the series also come from troubled backgrounds. That early experience influences my fiction, no doubt, but I don't think it's necessary to come from such a background in order to write a good Bordertown tale. To me, " running away to Bordertown" is as much a metaphorical act as an actual one. These tales aren't just for kids who have literally run away from home, but also for every kid, every person, who " runs away" from a difficult or constrictive past to build a different kind of life in some new place. Some of us " run away" to college . . . or we " run away" to a distant city or state . . . or we " run away" from a safe, secure career path to follow our passions or artistic muse. We " run away" from places we don't belong, or from families we have never fit into. We " run away" to find ourselves, or to find others like ourselves, or to find a place where we finally truly belong. And that kind of " running away from home" —the everyday, metaphorical kind—can be just as hard, lonely, and disorienting as crossing the Nevernever to Bordertown . . . particularly when you're in your teens, or early twenties, and your resources (both inner and outer) are still limited. I want to tell stories for young people who are making that journey, or contemplating making that journey. Stories in which friendship, community, and art is the " magic" that lights the way. she " founded" ) "
2 " When introverts go to church, we crave sanctuary in every sense of the word, as we flee from the disorienting distractions of twenty-first-century life. We desire to escape from superficial relationships, trivial communications and the constant noise that pervade our world, and find rest in the probing depths of God's love. "
― Adam S. McHugh , Introverts in the Church: Finding Our Place in an Extroverted Culture
3 " His words reminded me of something else I’d meant to bring up when he got back to town, something that had taken a very low priority. “Your coat—you never took it back after the wedding. It’s in my car.”He waved dismissively “Keep it. I’ve got others.”“What am I going to do with a wool coat?” I asked. “Especially here in Palm Springs?”“Sleep with it,” he suggested. “Think of me.”I put my hands on my hips and tried to stare him down, which wasn’t easy since he was so tall. That, and because his words suddenly returned me to the disorienting feeling I’d had sitting on his bed. “You said you weren’t going to bring up any romantic stuff around me.”“Was that romantic?” he asked. “I was just making the suggestion, since the coat’s so heavy and warm. I figured you’d think of me since it was such a nice gesture. And yet, once again, you’re the one who finds romantic subtext in everything I say.”“I do not. You know that’s not what I meant.”He shook his head in mock sympathy. “I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I’m the one who needs to take out the restraining order on you.”“Adrian! "
― Richelle Mead , The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)
4 " In any event, whether a supernatural tale remains altogether fantastic or eventually modulates to the uncanny or the marvelous, the reader is faced with disconcerting ontological and perceptual problems.Indeed, the disorienting effect of the supernatural encounter in fiction seems to reflect some deeper disorientations in the culture at large. "
― , The Haunted Dusk
5 " Only marriage combines all three forms of companionship - spouse is family, best friend, and permanent companion. This is why it is widely held that while the death of a child is the most painful loss, the death of a spouse is the most disorienting one. "
― Dennis Prager , Happiness Is a Serious Problem: A Human Nature Repair Manual
6 " One of the most beautifully disturbing questions we can ask, is whether a given story we tell about our lives is actually true, and whether the opinions we go over every day have any foundation or are things we repeat to ourselves simply so that we will continue to play the game. It can be quite disorienting to find that a story we have relied on is not only not true - it actually never was true. Not now not ever. There is another form of obsolescence that can fray at the cocoon we have spun about ourselves, that is, the story was true at one time, and for an extended period; the story was even true and good to us, but now it is no longer true and no longer of any benefit, in fact our continued retelling of it simply imprisons us. We are used to the prison however, we have indeed fitted cushions and armchairs and made it comfortable and we have locked the door from the inside.The imprisoning story I identified by the time the entree was served was one I had told myself for a long time. “In order to write I need peace and quiet and an undisturbed place far from others or the possibility of being disturbed. I knew however, that if I wanted to enter the next creative stage, something had to change; I simply did not have enough free space between traveling, speaking and being a good father and husband to write what I wanted to write. The key in the lock turned surprisingly easy, I simply said to myself, “What if I acted as if it wasn’t true any more, what if it had been true at one time, but now at this stage in the apprenticeship I didn’t need that kind of insulation anymore, what if I could write anywhere and at any time?” One of the interesting mercies of this kind of questioning is that it is hard to lose by asking: if the story is still true, we will soon find out and can go back to telling it. If it is not we have turned the key, worked the hinges and walked out into the clear air again with a simple swing of the door. "
― David Whyte
7 " It was spring, not winter or autumn, Paul thought with some lingering confusion. He listened to the layered murmur of wind against leaves, familiarly and gently disorienting as a terrestrial sound track, reminding people of their own lives, then opened his MacBook—sideways, like a hardcover book—and looked at the internet, lying on his side, with his right ear pressed into his pillow, as if, unable to return to sleep, at least in position to hear what, in his absence, might be happening there. "
― Tao Lin , Taipei
8 " How disorienting and isolating immortality must be, and how strong he must be to weather it. "
9 " The one thing she’d been able to count on her entire life was her cleverness. She was so often right. It was humbling and disorienting to realize that she in truth knew nothing at all. One only ever saw a fraction of someone, whatever it was they chose to show you, and extrapolated a whole person from that. And saw them through a prism of one’s own prejudices. "
― Julie Anne Long
10 " The moral values, ethical codes and laws that guide our choices in normal times are, if anything, even more important to help us navigate the confusing and disorienting time of a disaster. "
