Saturday, November 28, 2009

An Excerpt from My Novel

"Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night," Theo said dreamily, going about putting things in cupboards, as Jane and I washed the dinner dishes;
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
"We should use this jug more often," Jane said, submerging it in the suds. It was fat and cream colored, with little pink rosebuds painted all along the inside rim, and one deep red one right on the spout. "It's so pretty."
"Did Mrs. P. give that to you?" I asked.
Theo said:
"'Where are you going, and what do you wish?'
The old moon asked the three.
"No. It was mother's," Jane said, "and Mrs. P. kept it for me. I don't think either of us remembered it until we moved to Wythe."
"It's sweet."
Theo said:
"'We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,'"

"If I was a burglar," I said, "I wouldn't break into banks or people's houses to steal money or valuables. I would break into people's houses to steal little jugs like that one, and photographs of people's grandparents, and baby prams."
Theo said:
"Said Wynken,
And Nod.

Another Giveaway!

This time, for an adorable Etsy jewelry shop.

(At first, the perfection of this model's skin really creeped me out. Then I realized, it only was a model.)

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

How I Met C. S. Lewis

I was learning to read. I had learned my alphabet. I had gotten past the part of the book where I recognized and named sequences of letters. hhh aaa ttt hat ath tha tah. Stuff like that. And now I was putting the sounds together. A-X. Ax! And! Ab! Learning to read was fun! I was excited. I had yet to reach the point where, when my parents would tell me it was time for a reading lesson, I would complain and desire to be somewhere else, out of my parents' grasp. Therefore, I also had yet to reach the point where I was curled up on the couch reading Laura Ingalls Wilder. And yet to reach the point where I'll be in my room, reading L.M.Montgomery. Or Dickens. Or Austen. (Reading is fun.) I had passed the first few lessons, and had begun to understand the concept of how to read the English language.

My wiser, older, understanding brother, two years my elder, saw and understood. It was time. He took me to the bookshelf at the end of the hall.

"It's time for you to read "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe!" he said, or something to that effect. Excitedly, too, and zealously, I'd imagine, though I can't remember exactly. He then handed me our paperback copy, with Pauline Baynes' illustrations, and left me alone. I sat down there at the end of the hall, and began. I liked the picture. I read and I read.

A half hour later, and I turned the first page. Then, I gave up.

"It's too hard! It's really boring! I don't know what these words mean! I will not read this, Mark!"

And I didn't pick it up again. Until much later. Much, much later. And then I enjoyed it immeasurably.

So that's my introduction to C.S.Lewis.

Thursday, November 5, 2009