You are currently browsing the Uncategorized category
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 entries.

V – Victorian Romance Emma

  • Posted on April 26, 2017 at 1:56 pm

Emma is an amazing look into the world of victorian era romance and how class affected you. The main character, Emma, is a hard working woman, and in comes a nobleman who suddenly falls in love with her! William Jones is dead set on Emma, although his obligations get in the way at times. Including a kidnapping!

Why I recommend it for Writers: Kaoru Mori, the author of the series, and a number of other series too, is a phenomenal character writer. The characters are immensely human, and the feeling of whatever society Mori explores comes through aptly. Please, don’t limit yourself to just Emma either; check out Kaoru’s other manga, A Bride Story.

Warnings: Kidnappings, jealous rivals. Other typical romance-y things.

For the rest of the articles in this series, please visit this page.

Have you seen this anime? What about it made you want to be a better writer? Do you intend to go shotgun this anime now that I’ve shown it to you? Comment below and tell me what you think!

IWSG – 02/01/17 – Jumping the Gun

  • Posted on February 1, 2017 at 10:45 am
It’s the first Wednesday of the month, which means it’s time for Insecure Writer’s Support group! Created by Alex J. Cavanaugh, IWSG is a monthly bloghop where writers can share their fears, doubts, and insecurities. The support from this group has been invaluable to my growth as a writer, and I don’t doubt it will be for you too!
You’re welcome to join. All you have to do is click here to sign up, or click the nice little picture below too!
There’s something to be said about watching a live write-in on youtube, only to be introduced to a whole new side of writing life. One you may, or may not, be ready for. Jumping the Gun is one of my favorite pastimes. I often think I’m ready far before I am even close to being so. Of course, no one can tell ME that, not and keep their head.
Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of ‘how to write’ videos on youtube. For those of you who may not know, I’m really ADHD. This means it’s incredibly difficult for me to focus on a book, which means reading is very, very hard. This means, that in order to do better in my craft, I have to rely on audiobooks, or on youtube videos. Podcasts too, although I tend not to listen to them very well.
Anywho, I got into this channel on youtube called WordNerds, where each day they put up a short video on writing, reading, publishing, or anything literary related. Most of them are YA writers, and some of them are published, so their information is incredibly accurate. I really appreciate listening to them. I was watching this live write-in when someone in the comments section mentioned #PitchWars. Not knowing what it was, I asked, and found out it’s a contest every august for those with polished manuscripts.
Then I proceeded to ask a bit about beta readers, which gave me some good information. Mostly on where to find betas (most of the people said on Twitter, or on various writing websites throughout the internet), but it was good information regardless. For more information on how exactly to utilize betas, I watched This Video by the lovely and talented author Jena Moreci, who also has some great writing tutorials.

Then the talk went back to #PitchWars, and more specifically SunVSnow, a pitch war contest whose entry date was THAT VERY NIGHT. It felt like providence! Like fate was telling me to enter this contest, that it was my one and only chance!  So I looked it up and found the website dedicated to the Sun side of the contest. Basically, if you were chosen, your manuscript would be worked with by several mentors. Then, if from there you were selected, your manuscript was read over by several Literary agents, who then picked the ones they wanted to represent!

It sounds like a writer’s dream, doesn’t it?

It certainly sounded like mine. So I forced myself to stay up way past my bedtime, and write out the pitch letter they required, to write up and edit an entirely new opening for my book. I even woke up my writing mentor to help me with it! I had my boyfriend, and my best friend and another good friend all read the letter to make sure that everything was utterly within what was required. I figured if they chose me for the first round, I could pound out the manuscript and that’d be it, right?

Well, I spent the entire day right up until the submission deadline in utter abject horror, anticipating the chance that they might flunk me out just because my manuscript wasn’t polished. Hell, it hadn’t even seen a beta reader yet! And then I saw it. Right there, on the submission page.

‘Polished Manuscripts only.’

My little heart broke. I was absolutely despondent. Okay, well not really, but I certainly wasn’t happy. I didn’t submit it. But I learned a lesson. Always read the terms and conditions first on contests like these. And hey, at least I have eight months to polish my manuscript before #PitchWars!

My 20 Favorite Youtube Channels

  • Posted on January 19, 2017 at 10:25 am

Here’s a list of my favorite youtubers, organized by what they blog about:

 

Gaming Youtubers:

  1. Commander Holly – She does lovely let’s plays, and some of the best dating sim games played on youtube are of her and her friends. My favorite part is when she and her friends take turns voicing parts! Here are a few of my favorite let’s plays of hers:
    1. ABZU – underwater sleepy therapy time
    2. Hustle Cats – a Dating Sim where you date… CATS?!
    3. INSIDE – a surreal videogame where you play as a little boy
  2. Cryaotic –  A sonorous master, whose voice has lulled me to sleep on many a night. I adore all of his lets plays, but the horror games are the best!
    1. Rule of Rose – a horror game about an orphaned girl
    2. Bioshock Infinite – Another horror game, but one more widely known.
    3. Beyond Two Souls – A mediocre game turned amazing by Cry’s voice. About a psychic girl and the source of her powers.
  3. DanAndPhil Games – A combination of a taciturn and fun, these two have such cute lets plays I can’t help but adore them!
    1. Their Scary Games Playlist makes for a great night in!
    2. I never miss one of their Sims 4 Let’s plays. Dil Howlter is one of my favorite Sims!
  4. The Sim Supply – Does wonderful work with the Sims 4 and has a lovely voice to boot!
    1. His Rags to Riches challenges are great!!
    2. Especially anything labelled Bigwallet!
  5. JackSepticEye – An over-the-top cheerful blogger from Ireland (I’m a quarter Irish too!) who does let’s plays of the greatest stuff!
    1. His Last Guardian let’s play is so gleeful I adore it!
    2. But it was his Undertale let’s play that brought him to my attention! NYEH HEHEHE!
  6. Markiplier – His numbers speak for themselves, but beyond that he’s sweet, generous, and plays some of the best games I’ve ever seen!
    1. Among the Sleep is one of them, where you play as a frightened toddler!
    2. OctoDad is just hilarious no matter who’s playing it, but Markiplier just puts it over the top!
  7. NicoB – Generally plays JRPGs and other amazing games, so of course he’s one of my favorites!
    1. His Dangan Ronpa series is utterly amazing. He voices ALL THE CHARACTERS.
    2. He recently started a let’s play of Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch!
  8. PressHeartToContinue – plays tons of different games and also has a little news show she does that is VERY informative. <3 her!
    1. Another HustleCat Let’s play, but this one with OCTOPIMP, who is a GOD among voice actors.
    2. She also does an amazing series with the dating sim Dandelion with CRY of all people. <3 Love these two together.
  9. Yandere Dev – Because I adore Yanderes as a trope, it’s only natural I would love the man who was actually putting together a simulation game where we can ACTUALLY PLAY a yandere girl.
  10. Kubz Scouts – Related to Yandere dev above, this guy is THAT DUDE, who plays yandere sim and a few other good games too. I love his bright and cheery voice.
    1. His Yandere adventures are just amazing!
    2. His let’s play of Fran Bow was also touching.
  11. Ana Mardoll – One of the sweetest let’s players I’ve ever seen.
    1. I love her “Long Live the Queen” series.
    2. And her let’s play of the Royal Trap was thorough and so sweet!

The Random Stuff

  1. Cinema Sins – A useful channel full of great videos that teach a lot about what NOT to do when writing screenplays!
  2. DigiBro – An amazing critiquer of anime and manga. This man knows EVERYTHING about what to do and what not to do when writing.
  3. How to ADHD – She is amazing, and really helped me get a handle on my ADHD brain.
  4. Life of Tom – A hella awesome youtuber for school hacks and tips.
  5. M. Kirin – A great writing show that stretches into some game play too. His accent is a bit difficult for me to parse sometimes, but other than that, he’s a great writer!
  6. National Novel Writing Month – Also a great writing show. Plenty of prompts and tips!
  7. Simply Nailogical – Taught me everything I need to know about how to do my nails. <3
  8. Something Witty Entertainment – The home of the greatest Abridged show in existance. It took Sword Art Online from somethng Awful to something Awfully Funny.
    1. SAO Abridged
  9. Trae Crowder – The Liberal Redneck! He’s great. Listen to him.

 

And that’s all! These are my 20 favorite youtube channels. Enjoy them with me, alright?

Writing Anime: An Interview

  • Posted on August 21, 2016 at 11:35 pm

Today, instead of lecturing you on what to cherry-pick from certain animes, I’ve met with and interviewed an individual who knows his stuff. Cuchallain has a long career of analysing and reviewing anime, manga and video games. So much so in fact that I greatly respect his opinions on most of the review videos I’ve watched. He also happens to have my favorite Let’s Play of Tales of Zestiria on the entirety of the internet, so let’s put that out there too.

As the first interview I ever conducted, Cu and I started with just a few questions, and while he didn’t exactly consider himself an expert to start with, it quickly became apparent to me that he was, in fact, quite knowledgeable. An avid anime fan since the age of ten years old, a convention-goer on the regular, and now the personality behind a youtube channel with over five thousand subscribers, Cu is also incredibly humble.

When asked what goes into his writing for his typical reviews, he explained that he’s actually very unscripted with them. At most, he takes a few notes, generally about the speech of the characters and the themes behind the videos. He in fact, doesn’t even script his theory videos. Then, unfortunately, we devolved into a discussion about his online name, and then that devolved into a conversation on fanfiction and the wonders of Inuyasha as a gateway drug.

IWSG 04/06/16

  • Posted on April 6, 2016 at 5:04 pm

This month’s IWSG post is about growth and change. Fitting for the spring season we’re all now entrenched in, if you think about it. April showers bring May flowers is the old saying, and that generally means that the work you put in today, yields results tomorrow. But how do you know that the results you get will be the ones you want?

I’m talking today about my own plans, but please, ask yourself these questions as well, and see if they ring true.

  1. Do I have a goal?
  2. Is this goal something I really want to work towards?
  3. Is this goal something that will make me happy?
  4. Do the steps I need to take line up with what I am capable of?
  5. Should I go past my capabilities, even if I don’t know what the result will be?
  6. If I fail, what is the worst that can happen?
  7. What is my next step?

These are questions that I ponder on a daily basis. Questions that make it difficult to move forward at times. As you well know by now, I suffer from untreated anxiety and depression, and although I’ve been on anti-anxiety/anti-depressive meds before, I cannot afford them right now. This means dealing with my own issues without the aid of medication that turns my brain from my enemy into my friend.

So, these questions can be double sided. Negative answers can pop up and wreak havoc. In this case, however I’m going to try to answer them here for you, in the most positive light I can.

  1. Yes, I have a goal. Several. The two most important are to complete my degree, and to get published.
  2. Yes, the goals are worth working towards. Not only would being a published author raise my self-esteem, it would also make it easier to find work. ‘Published Author’ looks impressive on a resume, after all. And education is it’s own reward.
  3. Do these goals make me happy? Somewhat. I have no doubt that being published will make me happy. And completing a degree will definately make me feel accomplished.
  4. The question here becomes difficult. Am I capable of the steps necessary? Of attending classes? Getting good grades? All while writing, editing and publishing a book? Not to mention all of the other goals I have that aren’t listed here? …I won’t know until I try. But I believe I am. I believe I can do these things, because others believe I can. My writing mentor, Chris Votey, tells me that I can accomplish this. That I can be an author. My best friend tells me that I am worth an education. That I can do it.
  5. Should I overextend myself? What if I’m not capable of acheiving these goals? Well, as my best friend reminded me today, the steps along the way are lessons, that I can then apply to new goals. There’s no need to worry so much over failure, becuase success isn’t the goal. The journey is. So I CAN overextend myself. I’ll just have to have nets waiting for when I fall.
  6. If I fail to get my degree, I’ll have to continue working in retail, or worse, not work at all and eat up my best friend’s resources. If I fail to be published, I will have wasted all the time writing these stories, getting them out of my head and onto paper. If I fail, I will be where I am now, instead of where I want to be. That… doesn’t sound so bad to me.
  7. My next steps are simple. Last week, I tested to see if I need remedial classes. This week I wait for them to tell me if my verification has come through. Everyday, I write. More and more, and then edit, carefully. Those are my next steps.

When I ask these seven questions, I don’t feel nearly as bad about where I am, or what to do next. Growth is just looking for a way to succeed. Nothing more. Change is the willingness to grow, and the chance. So what are you growing this april? What do your seven answers look like? Did these questions help you in any way? Let me know!

 

Vassilissa the Fair

  • Posted on April 26, 2014 at 12:02 pm

There was once a fair young maiden, with hair like a river of gold. Her beauty was a gift passed down from mother to daughter. Plagued by illness, her mother had grown sicker, and sicker, until finally, only her deathbed await. With her father gone to seek a cure for her mother, Vassilissa, as the maiden was called, saw over her mother’s last words.

“Vassilissa, my sweet daughter, I am so sorry. I will not be here to aide you in your troubles. But do not fear.” Her mother breathed, and Vassilissa, sweet girl that she was, shook her head, begging her mother silent. But her mother continued to speak with the last of her strength. “Go to the cupboard. Inside, there is a doll. This doll will be your companion when I cannot. If you ever find yourself for loss of what to do, feed her a bit of food, and give her just a sip of water, and tell her your troubles.”

Vassilissa swore that she would, and held the doll close to her breast as her mother slipped from this world. And as all things must, her story continued. Her father returned, not with a cure, but with a new bride. Vassilissa tried not to let her heart harden against the man, but it was impossible not to when he left not three days after, leaving her alone with her new step mother and the woman’s daughter.

Her step-sister was not a dutiful girl, spending her time instead in town, flirting with the boys and pushing off the chores of the farm upon Vassilissa. Vassilissa’s step-mother grew angrier and angrier, but instead of punishing the step-sister, she blamed it on the golden haired girl. Vassilissa learned true cruelty at her step-mother’s hands.

 

The step-mother grew colder and more hateful each day, as she watched Vassilissa grow even more beautiful and dutiful and intelligent, while her own daughter grew lazy and spiteful and ignorant. One day, she just couldn’t take it any longer. Her husband had not sent enough money for all three of them to live comfortably, and she was not going to let her daughter starve for this wretch.

So she sent Vassilissa on an errand. In the dead of winter, with the wind howling and the snow falling, she sent the girl out into the woods surrounding their farm, to gather flowers. Fresh ones. Dutiful and sweet, Vassilissa could find no way to say no, to beg pardon from the awful cold outside. However, she was unable, and was sent into the cold. Her tears froze on her cheeks, and her hands trembled around the basket and the little doll she always carried.

At least she had a bit of bread and some cheese to have for a snack. Finding a small hollow beneath a great huge tree, she lifted the bread and the crumbs to her mouth. And then, as suddenly as a lightning bolt, she remembered her mother’s words. With shaking fingers, she fed the little doll instead. And then, she told it of her troubles.

To her surprise, she heard the doll speak. In a voice as cold as the ice around them, the doll told her to continue walking into the wind, and not to stop until she smelt a fire. This seemed a cruel thing, but she was used to cruelty now, and so, after chewing slowly her own respite meal, she did as she was bid.

Cold ate at her, and soon, she felt hope, for she smelt a fire. The light and warmth of it were desperately desired by Vassilissa, and it was only when she heard voices that she cautioned herself to stop. In the clearing there was no snow, there was no wind. There was a fire, and around it, twelve man sat. Three were boys, three were young men, three were men grown, and three were old men. She listened to them speak and tell stories for just a moment, before the cold drove her closer, and she stepped into the Field.

“Forgive me, good sirs, please pardon the intrusion, but might I share your fire, if only until the snow passes? I will be happy to share what little food I carry?” She offered, and waited while the men conferred. Eventually, one of the old men bid her sit, and they all asked her to tell her story, to explain why a girl so fair and young was out in such horrid weather.

“My step-mother sent me for flowers to weave into my step-sister’s hair.” She did not complain, did not whine, but explained truthfully. The men respected this, and when she was done, one of the young men stood, and went to the eldest man.

“January, my friend, might I borrow thy crown for but an hour, to lend this poor girl aid?” And the old man passed his crown to the young, and once it sat upon the young man’s head, the snow stopped, and melted away, trees turned leafy and grass turned green. Soon, flowers were blooming everywhere, and Vassilissa was beside herself with joy. She gathered up snowdrops and tulips, daffodils and wild daisies, and then thanked the two profusely. “Your thanks are not needed, but hurry, for I must return the crown to January in an hour. Run home, and stay where it is warm, sweet girl.”

Vassilissa did as she was bid, running home through the bright warm woods, and only minutes after she was inside, did January sweep April away like a tempest, the blizzard all the colder now for having been warm. Her step-mother and step-sister stared in awe at the basket of flowers, fresh and impossible in Vassilissa’s hand. The step-sister snatched an empty basket, and ran off, following Vassilissa’s story. When she returned she was an old woman, cursed by the twelve men in the little clearing for having demanded where Vassilissa had been given.

#

Again, the step-mother grew resentful and hateful towards the young and beautiful Vassilissa, this time for making an old maid of her daughter. This time, she demanded that Vassilissa seek out the help of the old witch who lives in the woods, that she go to her and get a cure for the curse that her step-sister was under. Being a good, sweet girl, Vassilissa did as she was bid and took a basket full of cheese and bread for the journey.

The wind was cold and the snow still falling as Vassilissa trailed through the woods. She knew stories of Baba Yaga, the old witch who lived in the wood, and she knew that she would not return alive. In her despair, she thought again of the little doll and fed it some cheese and some water melted from snow. The doll asked her her troubles, and she told it her errand.

“Be careful, fair Vassilissa. Drink nothing the old witch gives you. Eat nothing the old witch makes for you. And do not ever open your eyes after dark. She will eat them from your head, should you see her secrets.” The doll spoke in a voice black as the evening sky, which slowly filled with stars.

Vassilissa did as she was told, and when she found the old woman’s hut, her legs shook with the want to turn around. The hut stood upon chicken’s legs, surrounded by a fence made of bones and topped with skulls whose eyes burned with fire. She made her legs move forward, onto the green grass around the hut, and she lifted a hand to knock on the door.

An old woman answered, her eyes dark as night, and her teeth sharp as a cat’s. Vassilissa begged her to help her step-sister, and in the end Baba Yaga refused. Vassilissa pleaded with the old woman, and finally, Baba Yaga declared that if Vassilissa could serve her for three days, she would cure her sister. But if she failed even one chore, Vassilissa would be her meal.

She had no choice but to agree, for Vassilissa wouldn’t be welcome home without the cure.

The first day, her only test was to search out all of the mice in the old woman’s hut, and cook them into a stew. Vassilissa was terrified of this, as mice were biting little things and she did not wish to cook them. But after she fed the doll and gave it some water, the Doll told her to take the cheese from her basket and crumble it up. Scattering it like breadcrumbs, the mice came out of hiding in seconds starved as they were.

Then, Vassilissa caught them all up in a burlap sack, and it wriggled and it squeaked, and she dumped them all, fur and tail, into a pot. She covered it with a lid. Ignoring the terrified scratching, she lifted the pot and set it atop the fire. The shrieks of the mice haunted her dreams that night, and she had no trouble keeping her eyes closed while Baba Yaga bustled around her.

The second day was not nearly so easy. Baba Yaga set her to finding and feeding her chickens. The moment she saw one of these chickens, she knew she would be dinner tonight. Tears bubbled on her cheeks as she gazed upon the razor winged, lion-mawed creatures that had only the barest traces of feathers to call themselves chickens. She hid in a corner, near the hut’s chicken legs, and fed the doll some crumbs of bread, and the salty water of her tears. She begged it’s help and it told her to braid a rope of her long golden hair, and cut it off. Then she was to dip it into the mouse-soup she had made the night before. After this was done, the doll told her to tie it between two trees and to scatter the buckets of feed underneath it. She did as she was told and was startled to see the beasts racing for the rope, gnawing on it. And when her golden hair snapped and fell, the beasts began to eat their own breakfast as well.

When she returned to the hut, and laid down, the sounds of screaming kept her awake that night, and she flinched whenever she heard the drop of a metal cleaver. She only barely managed to keep her eyes closed through the night.

The next morning, Baba Yaga had an even harder task for her. “You must go into the depths of the underworld, and bring me three teeth of the ruler of that realm.”

The old witch took down a cloak of black feathers, and wrapped it around the girl’s shoulders. “This will let you pass unharmed through the gates of the underworld. Do not lose it girl, and bring it back to me.”

Once again, Vassilissa begged the little doll for help, after feeding it its fill.

“Walk towards the setting sun. As you walk, you will see three horsemen. Do not speak to the first or the second, do not even look at their faces. The third, you must ask him to take you home. He will take you to the bowels of hell. When you are there, you must find and pick the largest apple you can find. Give this to the king of the dead, and he will break his teeth upon it. Take the teeth, and run. Do not look back, do not fear, and do not stop running, even if the ground falls out from beneath your feet.”

#

The fair Vassilissa set foot to road, and walked. Dawn came, and with it, a rider upon a white horse. She didn’t dare look up to see his face, and past him without seeing more than the flick of his horse’s white tail, and the flying hem of his white cloak.

She walked, and walked, and walked. And then, when the sun was high in the sky and the world was warmer than she could remember it ever having been in winter before, a red rider came thundering down the pass, the hooves of his great beast running swiftly. She did not even see the flutter of his hem as he passed, and for that she was grateful. The goosepimples on her skin were tickled by the feathers of the cloak.

She walked, and walked, and walked again. Finally, as the sun set and the night sky filled with stars, she saw the black horse, as it stood, fidgeting, in the middle of her path. She swallowed, and looked up to his face. She was suddenly glad she did not look at the other two, for this creature had no true face, had only bones and burning red eyes that felt as if they pierced her heart.

She begged in a quiet voice that he take her home, and soon, found herself over the front of his saddle, and the horse careening like a creature possessed through the woods. The girl screamed, and squeezed her eyes closed, and then, as suddenly as her journey began, it was over. She was standing in a dark place, the ground beneath her glowing faintly blue. Twisted trees made of crystal and rock spiraled up around her.

Remembering the little doll’s words, she searched desperately for an apple. But all she found growing on the trees were rocks. Red rocks, blue rocks, green rocks. All oddly shaped and hanging from branches like fruit. Finally, she picked one, a green rock that was roughly the size of both of her fists put together.

“Who are you?” A voice called behind her, and she saw a woman, dressed in black and with long black hair that fell over one side of her face. “Where did you come from?”

Vassilissa couldn’t get words to come from her throat, and instead, held out what she hoped was the Apple. Vassilissa desperately hoped that perhaps Baba Yaga wouldn’t realize if she took this woman’s teeth instead. They were only teeth after all, how could one tell the difference between one person’s teeth and another? The woman took the fruit, and as if compelled, bit into it. Just as the doll had said, the ghostly woman’s teeth cracked and broke into the fruit, and the fair girl snatched the fruit and ran.

It was hard not to look back, it was hard not to stop when she heard the woman shriek, and felt the walls coming down around her and when it felt like she might die if she ran any longer. But eventually, she found herself back on the road. The road that lead to Baba Yaga’s house. She had succeeded. She had won.

She took the doll out of her pocket, hoping to share her success with it. She fed it a bit of the stone apple and a bit of the juice from it as well and the doll awoke. She told it of her success, and the doll told her not to return to Baba Yaga, to take the fruit and go back home and give her sister a single bite of the fruit, instead.

Vassilissa returned home, quick despite the slick snow melting between the trees. When she opened the door, her step-mother seemed not to recognize her. Vassilissa wondered how long she’d really been gone. Happily, upon giving her step-sister a single bite of the apple, she saw that it reversed whatever curse the men had cast. Her sister was once again young.

The three women lived in harmony for a bit, the rest of the apple hidden beneath Vassilissa’s bed along with the doll. In her happiness, Vassilissa fed the doll one last time, and it spoke to her.  ”All your troubles will be soon forgotten and one day I will leave you. I ask that you do not come to find me.” She didn’t know what to say, but agreed, weeping tears for her mother’s doll. 

It wasn’t until months later, in the month of April, that a handsome young man rode through their farm and Vassilissa caught his eye. She was instantly enamored with the handsome man as well, and when he returned with his father, the king, to ask for her hand in marriage she said yes.

Angry beyond all compare at being cheated out of such an opportunity, the step-sister, still lazy and mean-spirited and ignorant, stole the doll and the apple from beneath Vassilissa’s bed. She went into the forest to find and demand that Baba Yaga give her a spell to win the prince and make her better than Vassilissa. No one saw the step-sister again, and all throughout Vassilissa’s wedding, her step-mother cried bitter tears of grief for her lost daughter.

A new skull sat upon Baba Yaga’s fence, and she kept the helpful little doll sitting right next to the odd green rock with the wrong teeth in it. She wondered where that Vassilissa girl wandered off to, but was preparing for the next tale she would appear in. She had a broth to brew before they arrived, after all.  

Queens: Are They So Evil?

  • Posted on April 20, 2014 at 12:50 pm

Enjoy my minor attempts at Poetry. Keep in mind, I haven’t written anything poetic since highschool. You’ll quickly see why.

A precarious thing, a Queen becomes;

She’s known for beauty, for faith, for something

and that thing is what makes her so hated.

Too beautiful. Too faithful. Too loving.

Her downfall, that Queen, is that she cares.

She cares about her husband, perhaps,

or her people.

or herself, just a little too much.

And that leaves her lost, and alone, afraid and scared.

She isn’t prepared.

Sold to another kingdom for her ransom,

She marries, and she is not his favorite. He barely loves her.

She does everything she can.

Or he loves her, but he loves his old wife more.

Poor Queen, lost.

She takes up magic, takes up the old ways of lying and beauty and power.

She takes up new ways of passion and heart and anger.

The Evil Queen they call her.

Is she truly evil?

For wanting nothing more than stability, and hope?

Is she evil?

Or is she hurt? Lonely?

No one cares to ask, as they stab the sword into her dragon breast,

or throw her dashed down on rocks.

She is dead, poor Queen.

Poor evil Queen. She is dead.

Jack and the Beanstalk

  • Posted on April 12, 2014 at 1:41 pm

To be quite honest, old Jack has tapped me out. I have no idea what to write about this particular fairy tale. So I decided to try something stream-0f-consciousness, to see if I can get to the bottom of what Jack and the Beanstalk means to me. You see, I never really liked the tale, even as a child. It made no sense to me. If you were going to sell a cow, why would you do it for a few coins? Cows make milk, right? So why not keep the cow, scavenge for food around the forests and stuff, and try and survive that way?

So, yes, even as a child, I wasn’t easily fooled. I knew that no giant beanstalk would grow from a few green beans. I’d tried. It didn’t work. Magic, or not, beans did not equal giants. This was clear to me from a very young age. But there was one part of the fable that drew me. I loved the idea of the Harp of Gold and the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs. These two prizes, seemed so very, very unreachable for me.

Perhaps it was because Harps always seemed so… elegant and rich to me. I tried very hard not to put myself down, but I knew I would never have that sort of beauty in my posession. And the goose? I wouldn’t even know how to care for it. So I envied Jack these few things. I wanted to have them, and he did, so I hated him. Amazing how easy it is to fall into sin that early.

The thing about these two prizes was, however, you had to pass by a giant to get them. And this giant wanted to grind your bones to make his bread. Clearly, the poor guy was calcium deficient and needed some kind of supplement.  I felt sorry for him! But at the same time, he was really, really annoying. All that fee-fi-foh-fum humdrum, it made no sense. Why let your prey escape by being so loud?

Also, the whole tale has no real conclusion. Yes, Jack cuts down the stalk, but what about the rest of the giants? Can’t they come down any time? Shouldn’t they be able to toss down some magic beans and then wreak revenge on the wayword Jack? Oh wait, I don’t remember THAT happening in the original story. Someone should tell Jack and the Beanstalk from the Giant’s point of view. That’d be nice.

And another thing! There are NO female parts in that story, except for the ‘naggy mother’. Really? Maybe Jack should be Jill! Girls can climb giant beanpoles too! Although to be honest, I can’t think of a woman who’d sell a cow for a couple of magic beans. …Well, not off the top of my head anyway. That isn’t to say there aren’t any, just that I don’t know any. Perhaps Jill could climb the stalk and then make peace with the giant?

Well, now I’m getting into territory of a new novel, and that really can’t happen, so I’m going to end this respectable five hundred some odd words with this. Don’t sell your cow. Feed it grass. Milk it. Live. Be happy.

Is He or Isn’t He (Human)?

  • Posted on April 11, 2014 at 1:38 pm

Today we discuss that ever famous trope, the one thing that makes every horror movie ever awesome, the one thing that turns fairytales from fairy to Faery tales, and the one thing that I absolutely adore when done right. When in doubt, use this particular cliche, because honestly, it never gets old! On Tvtropes.org they call it the Tomato in the Mirror. Personally, I like the fact that it can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere. Including yourself!

Is he human, or isn’t he? This goes for women too, but too often, we forget that men exist in fairy tales as anything other than the prince, or the rescuer. Or sometimes both. As one-dimensional as this is, some of the best  scares in the world, come from the idea that the person you are with is not who he says he is. So here’s a quick guide to whether or not your beau is in fact, human!

1) Salt! It is your best friend!

In most societies, Salt is considered a purifying presence. (maybe because of what it does to slugs, who knows.) People consider it pure and useful. In the old days, there was a saying “Worth his salt”. This was because back in those days, people were actually PAID in… You guessed it. Salt. It preserves meat, adds flavor, keeps rot away, and best of all, salt lining a doorstep or a window keeps the evil from entering a home. Supposedly.

The Pearl Princess
A Fairy Tale of the Value of Salt
Once upon a time, there lived a woman on the top of a mountain that lived in a cottage and had geese. In the
large nearby forest, she would pick grass for the geese and fruit to carry home. One morning, a handsome
young count came into her presence. He asked if she had no one to help her carry her things. She told him
that she was poor and had no one to help her and asked if he would be so kind since he was strong and tall.
He agreed but soon he was groaning under the weight. “These are so heavy, can we rest,” he asked? “No.
Go on a bit more,” she coaxed. ” He tried and tried to take the bundle from his back and found he could not.
He began to think she was a witch. As if she could read his thoughts, she tried to console him by saying:
“Don’t get angry. I will give you a present when we get to my home.”
Soon they arrived at her little cottage. It was a bit run down though neat and tidy. There was another women
there who asked: “Kind mother, you have stayed away for so long. You were missed.” “I met with this kind
gentleman, who carried my burden,” replied the old woman as she took the bundles from the Count. “Sir, you
may rest upon the bench. And you, little one, go inside the house lest he fall in love with you.” The Count
was somewhat surprised at the old woman’s comment. The girl was homely and old looking and he thought
love was an impossibility unless she was considerably younger.
The Count fell asleep. When he awakened the old woman was there ready to give him his reward for his
kindness of carrying her bundles. She placed an emerald green box in his hand and admonished him to take
good care of it. He put the unopened box into his pocket and left. He was unable to find his way out of the
forest even though he had been able to before. Finally, after three days, he came to a large town. He was
greeted by a guard that was instructed to take all strangers to the King and Queen.
He respectfully explained his situation: “Your Majesties, I am a Count. I have lost my way.” The King asked,
“How can you prove what you say?” The Count began to search his pockets and found the emerald box and
presented it to the Queen. Upon opening it she gasped in surprise and fainted. The guards seized the Count
and the King helped the Queen. As the Count was being taken away she awoke and asked that he be
released for she wished to talk to him…. alone.
Once alone the Queen began her sad tale. “I have three daughters. The youngest was rare and wonderful.
When she cried, pearls fell from her eyes instead of tears. One day, their Father, the King, decided to divide
his kingdom so he called our daughters before us. ” He said: “All of you love me. But she who loves me best
will receive the greatest part of the kingdom.” The Queen continued. “Each child giggled and said that she
loved her father best but was asked to tell how much. “The first daughter said that she loved her father as
much as the sweetest sugar. The second daughter said that she loved him as much as her prettiest dress.
Our youngest was quiet. The King asked her….”How much do you love me.” She replied, “I know not what to
compare my love to, Father.” He encouraged her and asked her to think again. “I do not like even the best
food without salt. Therefore, I love my father like salt.” He became angry not understanding the compliment
she had given him for salt is worth more than gold sometimes. “Like common salt,” he raged! He had the
kingdom divided between the two oldest daughters and placed a sack of salt upon her back and she was
lead into the forest by two guards. I begged him not to but he wouldn’t change his mind. I wept. She also
wept and the road to the forest was strewn with the pearls from her eyes. After a few days, the King regretted
his behavior and the soldiers were sent into the woods to find her. They could not. We have wept since.” And
so ended the Queen’s sad tale.”When I opened the emerald box, I saw the pearl that my daughter used to cry. Where did you get it” the Queen implored?

“In the forest, I met an old woman and carried some bundles to her home. I didn’t see a
beautiful princess.” When the King was told of this, the three of them returned to the forest to look for the old
woman.
She was in her cottage spinning with the homely child beside her. An owl came to the window and the old
woman said, “It’s time to go to the well.” Off she went deeper and deeper in to the forest. She brought up a
bucket of well water and began to wash her face. As she did so, the homely mask soon came off and in the
moonlight you could see she was the beautiful princess.
Meanwhile, the Count had strayed from the King and Queen and climbed a tree to find them. But what he did
see was the girl, a beautiful girl. He edged out further on the branch to secure a better look but the tree limb
creaked. The girl heard the noise and placed on her mask as she ran from the well. He recognized her as the
goose girl from the old woman’s cottage. He climbed down the tree as quickly as possible but the fair maiden
had disappeared.
He found the King and Queen and said, “I think I have just seen your daughter. She probably went down this
path.” The three went hurriedly down the path and came upon the old woman’s house. They peered in the
window and saw the old woman alone at her spinning wheel. They knocked softly and heard her response:
“Enter. I was expecting you.” They asked the old woman if she knew of her daughter, the Princess. The old
woman rose from her stool and pointed a finger to the King and said, “Three years ago, you unjustly drove
her away. She who was good, kind and pure as salt! She put out her hand, which was filled with salt and
asked, “do you know the value of salt and therefore the love your child has for you?”
The King expressed his sorrow and beseeched the old woman to show him his daughter. A door opened and
the Princess appeared. Everyone wept tears of joy but only the princess wept pearls. The King asked her
forgiveness and said that he had no kingdom left to divide and that he had nothing of worth to give to her.
The old woman said: “This child needs nothing. She is as the salt of the earth, pure, life giving and watched
over. Her pearls are finer than those of the sea and she shall always have them.”
Upon this comment, the old woman put up her hands and said that for the years the Princess spent tending
her geese, the cottage was hers to keep. The kindly woman disappeared and the cottage changed into a
beautiful palace.
In all of the commotion, the Count was overlooked and he began to go. The Queen stopped him and asked if
there was any way that they could repay him for finding their daughter. The King offered his gold, the Queen
offered the pearls. He looked at the Princess and asked if she would marry him. The Princess agreed…..
And they all lived happily ever after.

The Salt Institute

2) Sage. See Salt, because it’s the same situation. Purification properties, protection from those who might harm you. Wear it as perfume, and if he flinches away, he is evil! Or maybe just in possession of a nose, because honestly, Sage has a really pungent odor. But it can be used to purify a home of spirits. Especially useful when one wants to avoid the situation poor Violet’s situation on American Horror Story. Just light a bundle of sage and let it’s fragrance touch every corner of your house, and put a small + symbol over each door and window with the ashes, and you’ve got yourself a safe home.

3) Tiger’s Eye. This stone has often been touted as protective. Just Google It and you’ll find a plethora of options. You see, it resonates with your own protective barriers, if you’re the type of person to believe that all people have these psychic protections, and strengthens them. Wear a tigers eye on the subway, or when dealing with people you don’t particularly care for. Wear it at work to avoid being noticed by the boss when s/he is on a rampage! Hey, there ya go!

So go forward, forewarned and forearmed, and meet your beau with a tiger’s eye around your throat, and some salt in your fist! Make sure that lover isn’t there just for your lovely insides!

Fairy Godmothers

  • Posted on April 7, 2014 at 12:33 pm

“I wished for my Fairy Godmother, the Good Witch of the North, or some other bitch with a wand.” – Jocelyn Drake

I can’t think of anything I’ve wanted more in life than to be given beautiful gifts, and to be worthy of them. Perhaps this is why the Fairy Godmother idea is so very enticing to me. Now, before you go calling me a Material Girl, I will have you know that knowledge, love, patience, kindness, and acceptance are all gifts in rare supply nowadays, and I’d be happy to receive any of them. Although a diamond bracelet, or a new pair of high heels wouldn’t make me turn up my nose, especially with my salary!

I personally, always wanted to be a princess, to be treasured and adored and loved. Like Rapunzel, like Cinderella, like Snow White, I always thought of my feelings of being trapped, of being used, of being alone were just something to be overcome until my prince charming arrived to rescue me. I would close my eyes and dream of all the beautiful things this prince would bring into my life. A three story house. Two cars. Beautiful children who would love me unconditionally and always make me proud. Stability. Hope. Peace.

But each prince, one after another, ended up promising and promising, and nothing ever came true. I’m not sure exactly when I stopped seeing the magic, when I stopped feeling that sense of wonder. I try to make myself see it. On Halloween, I dressed up and took a friend’s child trick-or-treating, if only so that I might relive the magic and rush and excitement of the night. But even with all the children running, all the candy pouring through my fingers, I couldn’t capture the same awe and sense of waiting that had filled me as a child. I couldn’t make myself beleive that something amazing was just around the corner for me.

Perhaps this is what growing up is? Perhaps it’s that sense of knowing everything, and feeling as if it’s all happened, and nothing new is ever going to excite you again. Or perhaps it’s depression? I used to wish for a Fairy Godmother to come and make me worthy of my Prince Charming. I’ve started to realise that no one is a Prince Charming. That I’m not Cinderella, nor am I the wicked witch. I am not, in any stretch of the imagination, anything but a person.

And that’s the important thing, I think. Remembering that as a person, I can be my own fairy godmother. I’ve started a garden. I’ve written books. I’ve gotten a new job, and I’m considering going back to school. I am making changes to my life to make it better every second I breathe. I am my own Fairy Godmother, and I’m learning to see the beauty and wonder in life again. In the tiny growing of a seed, in the pouring of words into print, in the breath of a sleeping child I’m allowed to hold. Life moves on. People grow up. We can’t all be Peter Pan, nor can any of us be Sleeping Beauty, sleeping away the world around us.

So embrace yourself. Learn to be your own Fairy Godmother. Stop looking for the alien to fall from the sky, for the prince to sweep you off your feet. Instead, look for the little magic in the world. The small changes in yourself and others. That is what will make you happy.

Follow

Follow this blog

Get every new post delivered right to your inbox.

Email address

%d bloggers like this: