I'm a clumsy, clumsy bee.

Style
There is a lot to be said for minimalism. I personally have a minimal style in my own diary. Here, Stumblebee has created a near minimal masterpiece. There on the right side is a block of gray background with visually friendly yellow text. It hangs on the page, like an unfinished building in a resort town of the future. All that supports it -- and this is the brilliant touch -- is the askew picture of the little girl in the bumblebee costume along the left side. The face of the child peers out at you and practically implores you to stop for a moment, either in pity or in compassion.

This whole creative concept, designed by the author, feels like a page torn from a big book about a foreign country. It haunts the senses, as if it calls to us from Brasilia, the city of the future. The surrounding white space, which may be a tad too much, creates an oppressive border on the closeted world of the yellow text.
I can neither love nor hate this design, I can only admire its audacity. The author is either a gifted amateur or a mildly incompetent professional. Either way, an A for effort.
All the usual link things do their requisite linking. This is as it should be.

Substance
Here is where I was really let down. I so wanted the quirky and askew perspective of the design to be a real reflection of the writing. Unfortunately, the writing is really plain. I certainly don't mean "plain" in a pejorative sense. I mean it is direct, unadorned, and very much too the point. However, this leaves the reader feeling a bit cheated. The author is clearly a bright person and she has a clear command of the language. No real grammar or spelling problems at all. However, what is missing seems to be soul, for lack of a better word.

By soul I mean the real inner workings of this human. She has had some ups and downs in life -- parents splitting up, self-image roundabouts, a step-sister that sleeps with eyes open (that freaks me out too) -- but she journals primarily about the mundane and the banal. Today this happened, yesterday that person said this, tomorrow this will be the case. I want to know more about what is really happening inside.

The author clearly has a strong attachment to her mother, but I never get to see the mother as more than a collection of asides or anecdotes. School is a dominant theme, but it is just the stuff of a routine Fox sitcom about college life. I want to feel the passion, the pain, the joy, and the thrill of her life. I want the author's gifts with words and images to stir me. Unfortunately, she never really does. I am left feeling a little empty.

Suggestions
I would like to know Stumblebee better. I want her to open herself up, be vulnerable and tell the world about the darker corners of her mind. I would like to see less of the daily reportage and more of the inner workings of a clearly smart and talented individual. I want to peer under the covers instead of being treated to the same surface again and again.

B-
Take a mirror, Stumblebee, and stare into it. Longer. Longer. Stare until your eyes hurt. Now, write about what you see and what you feel.

Atlas