Story Time

I read aloud to my baby a lot.

Baby books? Yes. We do the silly voices and the bright colors and the black and white contrasts for his little eyes to develop.

But I’ve been reading him full chapter books since I was twenty weeks pregnant, and I don’t intend to stop now. This month, we’re reading one of my oldest and dearest favorites. (I’ll let you guess the title.) He may not understand the story yet, but it’s snuggle time and connection time and, one day, hopefully, he will be just as obsessed with the books as I am.

Plus, I have an excuse to read all my old favorites all over again. What could be better than that?

Living Courageously

I have a confession to make.

I have been keeping secrets from y’all.

Big secrets. Secret secrets.

Some of them are so big and so secret that I can’t even tell you about them yet. (I promise I will soon.)

But I can tell you the first one today.

About a month ago, I got dressed up and went into town for a job interview. My third interview with this particular company, in fact.

A third interview is a big deal, guys. There’s a lot of pressure. And a lot of people to impress. Especially if you want the job as much as I did. So, the whole 45 minute drive into town—I’ve mentioned I live in the middle of absolutely nowhere—I was praying. And worshiping. And reciting scripture. And basically doing anything and everything I knew how to do to keep my anxiety from bursting out and swallowing me whole before I got to the interview.

Because it’s really not a good first impression when you’re visibly panicking while trying to greet people and hold a conversation.

I made it all the way to the parking lot before I started to freak out. Actually, I made it onto the sidewalk.  Like, I made it far. Cause I’m a warrior, y’all. The trouble was, I still had to go inside and actually make it through the interview, which, considering the previous interviews, could have gone anywhere from an hour to two hours.

Which, for an introvert, is a long time to smile and talk to people.

Do you know what ended up giving me courage? You’re going to laugh.

It was Kate DiCamillo, and her wonderful, wonderful book, The Tale of Despereaux.

Specifically, this line:

“Once upon a time,” he said out loud to the darkness. He said those words because they were the best, the most powerful words that he knew and just the saying of them comforted him.

I said it to myself as I went through the doors, and while I smiled and talked with the receptionist, and while I sat and waited for my interviewer to come and retrieve me.

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time.

She was right. Just the saying of them comforted me.

In case you’re wondering, I made it into the interview without panicking. And I sat and talked with twelve people all at once, several of whom had skyped in so they could get a look at me. I smiled and answered questions and asked semi-intelligent ones myself, and when it was over I walked out feeling courageous.

For an introvert who, ten years ago, couldn’t look an adult—or almost anyone else—in the eyes, that was pretty brave.

And yes, after a month of waiting with bated breath, they offered me the job. So how’s that for courageous?

What is something particularly courageous that you have done lately? Brag to me in the comments! I’d love to hear about it!

Of Bullfrogs and Snapdragons: Coming Fall 2019

pexels-photo-134061.jpeg

Hedgehogs, O most faithful of readers, make excellent writing companions.

I would not admit this to anyone but you, for some of my friends would be terribly jealous if they thought that I was choosing favorites. Belinda Munkindot, who I am sure that you remember from my previous letters, would fly into the most ridiculous passion if she so much as suspected that I preferred a hedgehog’s company to her own. But there it is, dearest reader, and I do hope that you will keep my secret.

Since I have taken on the task of chronicles these small adventures for you, I have had many little visitors to my cottage. Lumpkin has come several times. He roams about beneath my desk, tapping on the walls, and occasionally will clamber up to sit on my shoulder, reading the page that I have so carefully inscribed for you and uttering a few complaints if the story happens to be about anyone but himself. Once, I caught him digging through my flour barrel, as if he really did think he would find treasure buried inside. I am afraid that I dusted him off rather roughly and ordered him to go home at once.

He is still sulking.

Belinda, too, has come to see me many times. She flits in and out of my window as she pleases, sometimes resting on my writing hand to get a closer look at what I am saying about her, sometimes tinkling in my ear, and sometimes admiring herself in the mirror I keep on my desk to distract her. Her tinkling is very bothersome, and as she seldom does anything but scold about the stories I’ve chosen to tell—or not tell—about her, I find it very trying to have her with me for long.

Wignilian would be a fine companion, I think, if he wasn’t so easily distracted. He scuttles about, sniffing this and nibbling that, and drives me quite frantic. I have been forced to banish him several times.

In the end, I have found that the only little creature I can stand to have rooting about on my writing desk is a hedgehog.

Actually, if I am to be most entirely honest, it is one hedgehog in particular that has snuffled his way into my good graces.

His name, dear reader, is Lester Winklestep.

Of Bullfrogs and Snapdragons, the sequel to Of Mice and Fairies, is set for release in the fall of 2019. Mark your calendars!

Miss Honey

pexels-photo-265076.jpeg

Today’s post is not a book review.

Well . . . it is, but it’s not.

If you take my meaning.

You see, I’ve already written a review about Matilda, by Roald Dahl. Quite a long time ago, in fact. And it would be very odd to review the same book twice on the same blog. After all, there are so many brilliant, wonderful books that I haven’t even mentioned to you yet.

So please, don’t take this as a sign that I have run out of books.

I haven’t.

Still, today’s post is not a book review. It’s a character review. Because I think this particular character is worth raving about, despite the fact that in my previous review I didn’t have time to praise her at all.

I am talking, of course, about Miss Honey.

Miss Honey, for those of you that are not familiar with Roald Dahl’s classic, is Matilda’s teacher. She is the second person to recognize what an extraordinary child Matilda is, and the only one to do anything about it. Upon realizing that Matilda is much too advanced for her regular class, she immediately appeals to the school’s headmistress to have her bumped up to another level.

When the school’s headmistress, Miss Trunchbull, refuses to listen, Miss Honey immediately marches on to Matilda’s parents to open their eyes to the wonder that is their daughter.

Naturally, they also fail to listen.

What follows is an example of how powerful teachers can be in the lives of their students. Miss Honey, despite being told repeatedly to treat Matilda just the same as all of the other children, allows her the space and the resources she needs to continue growing. Books, time to herself, and, eventually, a positive, nurturing friendship that is unlike anything Matilda has experienced anywhere else. In short, she becomes Matilda’s saving grace, because no matter how smart a child is or how many books they have read, they cannot get along without someone to champion them.

Matilda is, of course, the heroine of this story, but I believe that Jennifer Honey doesn’t get enough recognition or acknowledgment, and I am going to tell you why. Besides being an exemplary teacher, Miss Honey has her own set of problems. A dead father, a legacy—and a paycheck—that is stolen week by week, and an abusive aunt that doubles as her immediate boss. She has been trampled on and hurt and, as of the moment when Matilda appears, she has no way out of the situation.

And yet, for all her trouble, Miss Honey continues to weather her storm with an amazing amount of quiet strength. She doesn’t lash out at her abuser as today’s heroines are wont to do in fits of anger. She is kind and patient with everyone that she meets, from her bitter and constantly angry aunt to the smallest child in her class. Instead of folding to her situation and allowing the abuse, she seeks out her own solution—despite having to live on an almost nonexistent paycheck—and removes herself from it, establishing what boundaries she is capable of. (A very, very hard thing to do for someone who has been consistently battered from childhood.) She scrimps and goes without, living mostly on the school lunches so that she has the freedom to make her own choices. And yet, in the midst of all of this, she is still able to see past her own problems and be a comfort and support for Matilda.

Amazing.

Roald Dahl’s masterpiece is very much a children’s book, with a child’s heart behind it, but looking at it through the eyes of an adult, I found the character of Miss Honey to be incredibly true-to-life and inspiring. Her sacrifices and immense strength took this beautiful book from an interesting and lasting read to a classic for me. If you haven’t picked it up, I would absolutely recommend it to you, no matter your age.

“There is little point in teaching anything backwards. The whole object of life, Headmistress, is to go forwards.”

FREE BOOKS: Last Day!

pexels-photo-1010269.jpeg

Hello, my friends!

Friendly reminder that today is the LAST DAY that my books, Of Mice and Fairies and The Birdwoman, will be FREE on Amazon.

Of Mice and Fairies is a charming collection of fairy tales written by a forest witch, in the form of a series of letters to her niece. They spin tales of the adventures of her little forest friends: a fairy, a gnome, several mice, ducks, and, of course, Quiggly S. Minster, a troublesome troll with a greedy, grumbly sort of temperament and a nasty temper.

The Birdwoman is a collection of my short stories, spanning several genres and each only a page or two long. The stories feature, among other things, a runaway boy on a slave hunter’s ship, the child of a returning soldier, a mentally ill woman adjusting to her asylum, and the last refuge fleeing a dying city.

I hope you enjoy both of these books! The giveaway ENDS at midnight TONIGHT, so get your copies now before it’s over!

Happy reading!

Woodpiles, FREE Books, and Snowy Mornings

My house has a wood burning stove.

It’s beautiful. I love it. In the evenings before I go to bed, I light a fire and turn off all the lights and watch the firelight flicker on my wood floor and let all the heaviness of the day slid off.

Then, if it’s cold enough, I wake up every two hours in the middle of the night to keep the fire burning.

Because if I don’t, I will freeze.

Correction. I will not freeze. My cat would never allow that, simply because if I freeze, she’s going to freeze too, and that would be a tragedy of epic proportions. If I miss the alarm, she screams at me until I wake up, because I have the responsibility of keeping her warm.

I love her so much.

Thus, my wood burning stove, and, consequently, my woodpile is very important. I spent a good part of my afternoon yesterday chopping wood, and because I am kind and love you all, I did not take pictures.

You do not want to see me chop wood. It’s embarrassing. I do it because it must be done, but I do not claim to be good at it.

So now, my woodpile is stacked high, and life is good. We are not going to dwell on the fact that I had to run outside in my shorts and snow boots this morning because it was snowing rather hard and the wind had knocked the tarp off the wood. Wet, freezing wood is no good to anyone.

But, as I said, we are not going to dwell on that.

So, because it is snowing—and I love snow—and because today is Saturday and the weekend, and because I have a full woodpile, I would like to remind all of you lovely people that my books—Of Mice and Fairies and The Birdwoman—are both FREE on Amazon this week. I cannot invite you all to my house for a cup of hot chocolate in front of my wood burning stove, so this will have to be the next best thing. Brew a cup of tea (or coffee), snuggle up with a good blanket, and enjoy one of these books on me.

Happy Saturday, my friends! Stay warm!

 

Free BOOKS!

 

Of Mice and Fairies by A.R. Geiger in leaves
Of Mice and Fairies by A.R. Geiger

Today, we are celebrating!

Several things, in fact.

Firstly, it is November. And we have snow. And I love snow, especially when I know my woodpile is going to last me through the month.

That is definitely a good feeling.

Secondly, this blog recently passed its one year anniversary, AND reached 100 followers! YAY! So, this weekend we are doing giveaways!

Double YAY!

Of Mice and Fairies and The Birdwoman
Of Mice and Fairies and The Birdwoman

Both of my books (The Birdwoman, and Of Mice and Fairies) are FREE on Amazon for the next five days, so hop over and get yourself a copy on me. I love you all! Thank for taking this journey with me and making this year such a very, very special one!

In Which Wignilian is Heroic

pexels-photo-208977.jpeg

I must be completely honest with you, dearest of readers, and admit that the old mill down by the pond is not really a part of Bushkyn Hollow. It is, in fact, in a different part of the forest altogether, and one must walk quite ten minutes from one to the other.

But the mill is every bit as dear to my heart as Bushkyn Hollow, and I can’t imagine one without the other. I often bring my notebook and pen to a quiet little nook that I know of, right beneath the mill wheel. The rocks are covered with thick moss, the air is cool and misty, and I can see right across the still pond into the woods on the other side. Occasionally, a deer or a fox will come by for a drink and a pleasant chat, or the frogs that live in the reeds and rushes will swim over to pass the time of day. Frogs are remarkably proud creatures and think very much of themselves, but they can occasionally be pleasant, especially if the day is warm and they have found a good many fat flies to catch.

But perhaps my favorite of all the animals in and around the Old Mill is Wignilian Finch. He is a great friend of mine, and sometimes will consent to ride about in the pocket of my dress while I am out walking. I do enjoy having him with me, but I sometimes suspect that he allows such an indignity simply because he would prefer not to walk himself. As I have said before, he is an exceptionally lazy mouse…

My book, Of Mice and Fairies, is available now Here! I hope you enjoy the rest of this story, and others like it, as much as I have.

Night Festival

I do not review books by request on this blog.

Ever.

It’s just not something that I do. The books I post about are the ones that belong on my shelves, the ones that broke my heart and soothed my soul. These posts are about chronicling my own journey as a reader, highlighting the books that have moved me and built me, and offering my bookshelves to other readers searching for their own collections.

Not giving two stars to a book I only picked up because someone sent me an email.

dLOao6VAAnd yet, the most amazing books can sometimes drop into your lap in the oddest of ways. An email or a short message can be exactly the relief that is needed in days with too much stress and too many hard things happening. For me, that is exactly what Ms. Simpson’s note was. So this time—this ONE time—I am making an exception to my rule, simply because this book touched my soul, and I wanted to share it with you.

Night Festival is a wordless picture book created by illustrator Michelle Simpson. It has not been released yet, but her Kickstarter for the project is located here, and I would highly, highly recommend going over to check it out. You won’t be disappointed.

I certainly wasn’t.

Ms. Simpson’s simple, yet incredibly creative illustrations are heartwarming and beautifully expressive, telling a story that will speak to the youngest child and the most cynical adult. When I read the book, I had just finished an especially difficult and nerve-wracking job interview and needed, more than anything in the world, an escape. A place to hide, a place to recover, and a place to find myself again.

KkDj4-BA

Night Festival was that place for me. The magic in this sweet book, the beautiful imagery, and the story that will immediately reach out to anyone who has ever felt lost or displaced in unfamiliar surroundings captivated me, and helped so much to relieve some of the anxiety that comes from new job opportunities, new situations, and working really hard to smile and talk normally whilst still post-surgery swollen.

In other words, this book managed to work a miracle. For that, I am deeply grateful.

Night Festival is not Ms. Simpson’s only book, for those of you disappointed by its absence on the general market. She has another for sale here, called Monsters In My House, and while I have not read it yet (I fully intend to), it looks every bit as charming and sweet as Night Festival. May you enjoy her enchanting work as much as I have!