book hangover…when you finished a good new series and your other good ones are pretty much memorized, so its hard to read anything
“To read widely, and often, is thus to hope to be changed, to still believe that change is possible. It is never, ever a waste of time. Be it an essay or short story or novel or article, a good read never goes unanswered because a good read opens up a world that requires our attention. That might be the inner world of the self, it might be the domestic world of a family relationship, or it could be the plight of a whole people.”
To Read is to HOPE!
Boom Fantasy and Christianity in one quote
Read more here
All organizing is science fiction. What does a world without poverty look like? What does a world without prisons look like? What does a world with everyone having enough food and clothing look like? We don’t know. It’s science fiction, and it is as foreign to us as the Klingon homeworld (which is called Q’onos in case you were wondering). But being able to envision it and imagine it means we can begin seeing the steps it would take to move us there.
– Walidah Imarisha, Growing Octavia’s Brood: The Science Fiction Social Justice Created (via nomadmanifesto)
Yay Tumblr…this is definitely why/how I read Sci-Fi/Fantasy as a hopeful act
This year I will talk to dragons, I will spend the time I need to with fairies and fight off the bad guys with a sword.
I will flirt outrageously
I will laugh more than ever
I will be sure to build as many towers as I knock down, and remember that journeying to the castle is just as important as defeating the bad guy
I will improve my tea drinking ritual–because its more fun the more you do it
I will remember to sing loudly in the car, try new upsidedown and balancing thingies in yoga and throw more snowballs
I will wiggle more in my seat, draw more doodles and as a result become wiser than ever
I will pick the flowers
I will get my hopes too high on a regular basis, expect all people I know to be brave & wise & good no matter what I might (or might not already) know about them and catch up on Dr. Who
I will exclaim over every baby that they are each the most beautiful baby in the universe—because every single one is, and spoil my cats while contemplating with my husband the fact that we’ve acquired a creature (baby or kitten) every year that we have been married.
I will make it my mission to make my job be more and more about people (and less about paperwork)
I will declare random vacations to go out and play in the sun
I will do silly things I’m not good at, I will play strategy games, draw, play music, etc. because those are the things I love
I will do something meaningful to support trans*/bi community
I will watch as many Disney movies as possible and get my haircut when I feel like it
I will remember never to eat the food in fairyland
I will let my kids be messy, allow them to have fun, and teach them to love people
I will play more practical jokes on my husband
I will enjoy God’s sense of humor!
I will get lost and have fun while I’m doing it
I will read many, many library books
I will chase rainbows…and sunsets….
I will go on as many adventures as I can cram in…
I will walk to nowhere
I will tell the stories that give my life meaning, and repeat them over and over again until they are true
I will be Katy 🙂
Every year I look for a great Christmas book to read during Advent. Here are some that I enjoy over and over again!
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: Ever actually read the book? Its a good read out loud Tale.
The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis: There’s nothing quite reading about a land where its “Almost winter and never Christmas” when Christmas is on its way…
Miracle and Other Christmas Stories* by Connie Willis: A great collection of fiction stories that is about the true meaning of Christmas by the amazing author of “To Say Nothing of the Dog.” This is more fiction than sci-fi, but is SO amazing!
Skipping Christmas by John Grisham: Similar to the movie (Christmas with the Kranks), this very quick read talks about the ridiculousness and wonder of the Christmas hoopla
Mrs. Miracle by Debbie MacComber: Total popcorn, the first and best in this series. I do love a good Mary Poppins
type story is awesome, and the angels are awesome.
The Worst/Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson: A story of transformation from the worst things of Christmas…to the best…in fact I might say Skipping Christmas is an adult version of this same story.
How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Suess: My advice: do the voices
The Gift of the Magi by O Henry: a tearjerker
The Little Matchgirl by Hans Christian Anderson: ditto
The Night Before Christmas preferably right after you hang stockings and right before bed. Get 8 different copies and let everyone choose one to looks at, that’s the Hedges-Goettl way 🙂
The Nutcracker: If you can’t go to the ballet, read it. Or buy the advent calendar and read a little of the story all the way til Christmas
Velveteen Rabbit by Margary Williams: Starts at Christmas, ends with resurrection, best translation of the Gospel ever!
Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburgh: Beautiful, poignant, perhaps not a kids story (that’s all I’m sayin)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott: Starts at Christmas, ends at Christmas, life happens in-between Christmas…
Culturally I am very interested in how the arts are playing out for millennials.
I mean we’re mostly broke, so maybe creativity will abound? (this is my hope)
Open Source Computer Programs
and now I’ve re-discovered nanowriMo: National Novel Writing Month(which I’ve heard of briefly last year): in which you set yourself a goal to write a novel through writing about 50,000 words by the end of November
What I love is, you are really doing it for you….the website is (to me) like a self-determined excercise program where you count calories…no wait I mean words 🙂 on your own time and set goals for yourself.
I probably won’t keep up with the word count…but (partially inspired by avidly reading Robin McKinley’s KES) I’ve decided to give it a try…..I will definitely be farther along than I have been so far, I’m four short chapters in already 🙂
by Neil Gaiman
Read kids silly stories,s read them creepy and confusing and weird stories…read them Neil Gaiman, Roald Dahl, Astrid Lindgren , P. L. Travers, J. K. Rowling, Madeline L’engle, C. S. Lewis, A. A. Milne, Shel Silverstein, Read them Grimm and D’Aulnoy and Hans Christian Anderson (even though he’s creepy as all get out), READ THEM WHATEVER THEY WANT TO LISTEN TO!!!
“Why is there no down?” the boy-boy asked the librarian, looking for the elevator button
“There is no downstairs” the librarian chuckled, “Well there is one, but you can’t get there from here?
“Why? What’s down there” child asked 2 more of his 300 questions a day (249 already, his mom didn’t mean to be counting, but she couldn’t help it once she heard that children tend to ask 300 questions a day)
The librarian raised her eyebrows “I think there are library monsters”
“Are they nice” boy-boy recklessly asked, (250 questions)
“I can’t imagine mean monsters living in the library”
The boy-boy went upstairs with his two little brothers, until the library closed.
As the library closed, the boy-boy (and his mom and brothers) went out to the steps to wait for his dad to join them)
While they waited, a natural game of chase arose up and down the steps and looping around the ramp…(and at times climbing upon the railing, although mom kept trying to say no)
Then a mumuring began…a kind of quiet celebatory roar
Naturally the boy-boy had to know “What’s that noise?” he piped out, asking the noise, then the stranger and then finally his mom (253 his mom thought).
“It could be the monsters” mom said, just as the noise quieted
The boy-boy imagined Library Monsters–Piling books up high….Sliding up and down the railings of the library steps, snuggling the animals, messing with the toys. He imagined the monsters had a million eyes, and would spend long hours looking at books–and that during the day they would listen in the pipes to the adults reading them out loud.
Just then the noise started again, and the boy-boy whispered “See you soon” as his dad came down the steps and the family got in the car, and he didn’t ask another question……until they arrived at home!
“the child will come to it with an open mind, whereas many adults come closed to an open book. This is one reason so many writers turn to fantasy (which children claim as their own) when they have something important and difficult to say” Madeline L’engle
“Because teenagers are the human condition on crack” Kenda Dean
I can’t sleep. Note, this is not an unusual fact of life, but there it is. I am up awake again looking at where the moon should be. There is no moon of course, only the dark and feathery clouds that have blocked the moon for the last three years. I remember because it started on my sixteenth birthday. On that day the moon rose, and shone full for all of an hour before the clouds came out. I was outside, looking at the moon with my mother when the clouds started to gather, one by one. Looking no more than wisps, or the seeds of a dandelion. It kind of crept up on you. Then it was covered.
Not a lot of people noticed the moon of course. But my mother and I had looked at each other and shivered when it happened. My mother and I aren’t really witches (we’re not much of anything). We live day to day trying to get by. I go into the village and keep watch over the childlings for a bit of money. My mother tells stories, and villagers will leave her presents.
Note I say villagers, because we aren’t really villagers. But as I said before, we aren’t really witches either. We don’t have magic and we don’t know the lore. But my mother tells their stories, and we do live at the edge of town in the former witch’s cottage. My mom was the friend of the Witch—Perwin, and my mother found herself without a husband (I still don’t really know what happened to my father), we moved out here.
I sighed to myself as I reviewed the facts of my life. It was like telling a well-known tale. At sixteen I was….well I wouldn’t say innocent…I had already known that life was not full of the good food and pretty clothing other girls had, but I was more hopeful. Hopeful that some girl might talk to me more than in passing. Hopeful, that I might find a friend in village. And wishful too, back then I wished for a house—maybe with a husband or a friend—where I wouldn’t have to live alone.
That was before the clouds. Before magic started cropping up everywhere. Before my mother started to tire out before the day ended.
Before I had trouble sleeping.
Hopes and wishes, they weren’t bad things, but I felt them burning in my breast, smoldering and burning down almost to nothing, before something—like a smile from a girl my age or a wistful moment holding a childling, rekindled the spark in my heart.
My life was like a banked fire.
Maybe that was what was happening to the magic. Maybe its fire had been smoldering too long so sparks of it were escaping. No one is quite certain whether magic had been disappearing, or if people had just been making less and less use of it. The Court Scholars are still arguing about it (as if their arguments change the fact that magic is back, personally I think they are arguing about the wrong thing, maybe instead of worrying about why there is so much magic all of a sudden, maybe we should worry about what we should be doing with it all).
In our village, Elda’s nose turned purple. It really wasn’t all that noticeable. Elda has beautiful ebony skin, and is the town Matron. No one, but no one crosses her. So it was rather a problem when people started to see it. No one wanted to mention it to her face, but since there is no witch in town, no one had a mirror, and the pond is too cold for most of us to admire ourselves in the pond. Besides Elda doesn’t seem to care much about clothing or looks (that’s how she got to be matron)…she tends to rap the knuckles of the more vain girls and always compliments a girl on their skills rather than their looks (Elda did compliment me once on my sharp eye for childlings when I was watching the nearest neighbor’s youngest whilst the mother was having a new baby…I tend to think this is why I got so many offers for further care). So, it wasn’t until Tam, a boy of about 5, told her frankly that he liked her nose that she realized something was up. She marched over to the pond right away, and the entire village held their breath waiting until we heard loud shrieks—it wasn’t till we reached the lake we realized that the shrieks had been laughter. I always sort of liked Elda, at that moment I wanted to be her.
Since then small magics have been cropping up. Lots of colors have changed, and some new plants grow and die in a day. Some of the childlings claimed to have seen pixies. I rather think that they are right, after all, none of the stories speak of pixies visiting adults, and the childlings don’t usually lie (they instead play dreaming games, where they always declare “I dream I’m a …..” before they start the game). But I guess too much imagination is not to be trusted, because the childlings aren’t really being taken seriously about this.
So sometimes a fish says a real word, and sometimes the roses turn into teeny tiny bushes with fairy sized buds. Sometimes your hair turns blue and sometimes (more often than not) it will eventually revert to its old color. I like to think of it as the magic leak. After all, I’ve seen magic before this,: Sunlight making the dust sparkle, newborn babies taking their first cry, the full moon at night so close you can feel its power. In my personal opinion, magic has always been there, but regular magic feels like tame magic, and tame magic allows for explanation. So the scholars study a newborn baby, proclaim that it makes a mother and a father to make it and state the fact like they have it all figured out. But no one really knows when a baby first cries. Is it while its still a secret, hiding in its mother’s belly? I saw a stillborn babe once, she was wet and wrinkly, no more than 5 or 6 months in the womb, yet she looked to me like she was real. This deep magic is the sort of which, I think we take for granted.
But as I said before, I’m not a witch, so no one has asked me what I think. And the magic keeps spilling out in small leaks. Making itself known.
I miss the moon I think, finally drowsy as the sunlight starts to shyly peak its head out from the morning….and with that thought, I fall back asleep.