Author: Richelle Mead
Novel: The Ruby Circle
Mead writes in first person from two different points of view, she uses easy to understand language, simple words used, fairly short sentences used, uses italics to put emphasis on certain words/ideas, her characters ask themselves many questions in their thoughts.
January nineteenth was my last first day of a new semester at Dawson College. The day didn’t get off to a great start. I take the train to and from school everyday. The train station is about a twenty minute drive from my house, sometimes more sometimes less depending on traffic. For some unknown reason, a main intersection near the train was completely congested. A section that would normally take us five minutes to get through, we sat in for fifteen. The train was due to arrive in three minutes so my mother decided to cut through the back roads at an insane speed to get me there. We get the train just in time only to see that the train is going to ten minutes late! All that rushing and stress was for nothing. Now, I had to stand outside in the cold for an extra ten minutes and try to calm down my heart rate. Once the train arrived at Central Station, I realized I only had fifteen minutes to get to school. A task that normally takes me at least twenty. I start walking at an extremely fast pace and this is where my bad luck continues. I fall going up a flight of stairs. Who falls going up stairs? And it wasn’t just a stumble either, it was a full blown fall. The worst part about it though, was that not one single person asked me if I was okay. A couple people paused, glanced at me on the floor, and then kept moving on. I dusted myself off and continued on my way to class. I arrived at the metro only to just miss it and have to wait another three minutes, three very precious minutes. Luckily from there things started to look up. I arrived to my first class before my teacher did, she happens to take the train downtown as well. All of my teachers gave off the impression that they were approachable, caring and interesting. I managed to get a seat on the train home, something that is quite an accomplishment. My mom made my favorite meal of tortellini for dinner that night and coffee cake for dessert. And I went to bed knowing I could sleep in the next day.
The traffic on the way to the train was ridiculous and all I could focus on was the car in front of me. It had those stickers on it’s back windshield that are supposed to represent your family. You know the ones that are stick figures and always look super happy? This car had seven. Starting from the left, was the dad. He’s the tallest of the bunch, he’s wearing a suit and is holding a briefcase in his hand, the typical outfit that all men wear when they’re on their way to work. Next came the mom, slightly shorter than the dad and wearing an apron. Then came their three little children. It’s possible that these kids aren’t actually young anymore, but for the stickers to work they have to be midgets so signify that they’re the kids. The first child was a boy, and he was all dressed up in hockey equipment. The next was a girl, she was wearing a tutu and had her arms up over her head. The youngest was another boy, it’s likely that this boy also played hockey because I mean come’on, we live in Canada. But that sticker was already taken so this little boy had a soccer ball by his feat and what wearing a little soccer uniform. We can’t forget about the two final members of their family. One dog, the classic cartoon version with a slightly larger than normal head and nose and a goofy grin and a cat with a mischievous look on his face. Being stuck in traffic for extra fifteen minutes meant that I could stare at the cartoon stickers for longer than I would have wanted. I started contemplating how happy this family actually was. Did the young boy really enjoy playing soccer or did he prefer to play hockey like his older brother? Maybe the daughter was the one who wanted to play soccer.