Tag Archives: Graceling

Am I dreaming

Last night I was visited by Mr. Toad from the Wind and the Willows.  The night before, the Weasles sang their way through my nocturnal musings.  I’m not strange, I’m just a very vidid dreamer who appears to incorporate the characters around me into my subconscious for later digestion.  In fact, I can not read Jurassic Park or The Lost World without being chased by dinos.  For weeks.

Other memorable characters have been Cassie Logan from Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry, the demon Bartimaeus from his named trilogy and White Fang.  Jules Verne constantly led me on adventures as a child.  Most recently, Kristin Cashore’s Gracelings have blessed my slumbers.

I love when these characters debut for me in my own personal stories. 

Do characters haunt your dreams?  If so, who are the most Famous MC’s that have romped through your night?  What have they done?

Monday Musings

I learned five things this weekend:

  1. That fellow blogger Voidwalker smiles when he reads my blog.  I know this because he passed along a blog award.  More about that after I finish my list of five new things.
  2. That there is an absolutely amazing site for juvenile lit writers just waiting to be read.  Agent Mary Kole blogs at kidlit.com and has fantastic insight into the publishing world.  In addition, she is hosting a contest for writers.  If you’re interested in entering, check out the rules of her first chapter contest here.
  3. That I can still write short stories, and in fact, rediscovered my love for them after critiquing one for Michelle.  I set up a place on my sidebar that will take you to mine.  Just click on Short Fiction Sunday under The Things I Say on my sidebar.  I will try to post a new short once a week.
  4. That a little paint goes a long way in making old things sparkle and shine.  I helped DD repaint her room on Saturday.  We also applied some snazzy new colors to her old vanity.  Voila.  Elbow grease plus paint equals new digs.
  5. That I’m a bigger procrastinator than I originally thought.  DH had no problem pointing out that I have yet to start tanning for our fun in the sun vacay coming up.  I guess he doesn’t want to hang out alone while I keep my lobster butt in the shade.  

The 101 Sweet Friends Award

For this honor, I must post ten things that make me happy/smile.  In no particular order:

  1. Cauliflower and dip
  2. Hummingbirds
  3. Kids in general–mine in particular
  4. DH’s humor–I thank the Lord for his comedic outlook on life
  5. Which reminds me–my faith
  6. Flowers–and the fact that my summer office is my garden patio
  7. The written word–both reading and writing
  8. My friends
  9. My first bowl of chili each fall
  10. Family get-togethers

The rules also state I must pass this award onto seven bloggers who are either sweet or make me happy.  Like Voidwalker, I think handing an award out to gobs of people is like giving a participation award to all 4007 kids who competed in the tie your shoe race.  When everyone is special, no one is special.

And so I will pass along the names of the two bloggers that make my heart smile.  For my other faves check out my blogroll (like I do daily).  You might find a few you want to follow.

  1. Sweet goes to My Writing Masquerades, where excerpts and insights are beautifully written. 
  2. Happy goes to Elana Johnson.  I love her sense of humor.  She has tremendous kid appeal, and since I’m a nothing but a big kid, I laugh out loud when reading her posts.

For readers of YA, DD and I finished up our review on Kristin Cashore’s Graceling

What makes you smile?

Confession

I am not Catholic, but if I could and knew how, I would crawl into a confessional and admit my guilt.

Sadly, my confession will firmly place the blame on another person.  One I don’t know, but will blame anyways for my inability to accomplish anything important yesterday and today.

The first half of my confession is to admit that I am a hopeless book addict.  Over the years, I have gotten much better, and can actually read a book over an entire month.  I hate to do that, as  I love sitting down with the characters and the story and gorging myself on their lives.  However, Real Life usually gets in the way and I have to read a book in bite size pieces and be content with a page or two at a time. 

A few days ago, I finished Graceling.  Kristin Cashore’s debut novel was such a delight that I couldn’t stop reading until I devoured the entire thing in less than a half a day–with interruptions.  Oh, the dreaded interruptions.

Which leads me to the second half of my confession.  Last night, I cracked open the companion book to Graceling.  Fire was just as riveting and amazing and heartfelt as the first.

I read myself to sleep and (don’t hate me, dear fam) couldn’t wait to rejoin the characters again this morning.  I almost pushed my kids off to school and I’m quite certain DH felt more than a little confused at my rushed peck and absent-minded good-bye as he left the house.  My book was waiting.

*sigh*

I blame Ms. Cashore.  Her charge is writing a great book.  I hope someday to write lyrical tales that make people want to kick their family out of the house, curl up with a blanket, a cup of hot coffee and live in a land of my make-believe. 

If I ever succeed in doing this, I will gladly take the blame for loyal readers hurriedly sending their families away and coveting hours of solitude where they get absolutely nothing done.  I would love nothing more than to learn that someone cared enough about my characters to forget the laundry in the wash machine.  It would make me giddy to envision a reader pulling her nose out of my book, blinking into the waning light and realizing with a rush of excitement and disappointment that an entire day had magically slipped away.

Kudos to Kristin Cashore for giving me one spell-binding day in which the laundry is unwashed, the dishes piled in the sink and dinner a slap dash of whatever there is in the house.  I hope to pull myself together and pull off the illusion that I did, indeed, accomplish something before DH gets home.  Otherwise, he may not feel so inclined to let me purchase her next book.

And that would be a tragedy.