Bookworm, bibliophile, nerd; these are the nicknames you go by for your love of reading and ultimately, the hoarded collection that sits proudly on your bookshelves. Do you find yourself smelling the pages in between reading? Wait! That might just be me.
Books are timeless, they never expire and their ideas never die. They’re always relevant to the person who gives them a chance and they have everlasting impacts on us after the tears we shed or the smiles we surrender, all in the name of black and white printed pages. Reading has always been a hobby of mine. Since the AR reading club in primary school, to the midnight releases of our favorite wizarding series, I’ve always longed for a good book, but sometimes it can be a rather expensive habit.
The Store We All Love
I love Barnes & Noble, no seriously, their stores are a dreamers paradise. From the atmosphere to their cafe, Barnes & Noble adds an experience to your reading that will drive you into the stores time and time again. They have book clubs, membership options, book releases parties, and events of all sorts. Personally, I’ve spent the better part of a year working out of these stores when writing my first book. I don’t know why, but when I stepped into that setting, words flowed from the deepest parts of my writer’s brain and unto my word document. Barnes has a particularly high place in my mind as it was the place where I decided I wanted to be a writer.
Although Barnes & Noble prices are, in my own opinion, very high, they do offer online ordering which I have found to be much more affordable. If you visit their website, you’ll find prices that are sometimes, $5-$10 cheaper than the store price. So, if you’re not in a hurry to read your book, I’d recommend ordering it online and using my next option to hold you over until you get your printed copy.
eBooks with Libby for your local library
Libby delivers ebooks and audiobooks right to your phone or Kinde device straight from your local library. Read from your bedroom, read while on vacation, read while flying into space. With Libby, I’ve found that when I’m in desperate need of a book, I usually can check it out or place a hold for it to be available relatively soon.
Libby offers a “try before you buy” approach. I, like some people, like to read the first couple chapters of a book before I buy them to add to my collection and using Libby, has made it very easy.
If you’d like to take Libby for a spin, click here and take it for a test run, you won’t regret it!
Online, Fast, and Affordable
One place that I’ve saved tons of money when buying books, is Thriftbooks. I cannot stress to you how amazing they are. They have something called “readingrewards” which gives you points for every book you purchase and depending on the tier, i.e. reader, at 500 points you get a free book (a $5 value). They always have promotional events where you can earn more points like on birthdays or holidays. Plus, if you download the app now, you get 100 bonus points when you place your first order! I love the app and considering most of their books are already under $5.00, you cannot beat that anywhere else.
The books do come in a variety of conditions, printing editions, and covers. Depending on what’s in stock, you can purchase new, lightly used, library bindings, and signed copies too! In my experience, even the lowest qualities are still fairly decent. Plus, if there are any major defects, they will let you know beforehand.
If you’re looking to try Thriftbooks out, click here and receive 15% off your first order!
Exceptions to Saving Money
If an indie author or a self-published author ever releases a book, these are the exception where I don’t mind paying full price. I understand that every bit of the process is difficult and doing it on your own, only adds to the pile. If I can ever support the cause, I definitely choose to!
I cracked this story open with an Instagram reading group during January. As we chose in alphabetical order, naturally my name is Alexander, I was the first to pick and this was it. My first run-in with A Darker Shade of Magic was on the shelf of my local Barnes and Noble. The cover intrigued me and I loved that it was set in alternative Londons. At the time I didn’t buy it, but it was always placed on my “to be read list”.
I love the way this novel plays out. It kinda reminds me of a movie with scenes. Chapters are broken up into small sections and they flow like chapters you’d find in a movie’s table of contents with a name defining a group of moments. The overall characters are believable, Kell and Lila being my favorites. I enjoyed the sass and pain in the bottom that Lila was and Kell’s drive to do the right thing even when he knew it was wrong. There’s magic, multiple Londons, and a greedy set of royals who want it all.
2. Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
Who doesn’t love a great murder mystery by a warm fireplace? Murder on the Orient Express was the first one that I’ve ever read, can you believe it? Now I’m addicted. I will shamefully confess that I watched the film adaptation before reading the actual book and while it was a better book than the film, it helped clarify the story for me, which was very hard for me to follow. There are so many characters, perspectives, and subtle details that are important for the reader to catch for the story to make sense. If you don’t read closely, then the pay off at the end is not as worth it.
3. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon
If you want to take a literal journey back in time, then this is your book. I felt immensely deep in a world from the past. Written from the first-person view of Claire, Outlander explores the deep and dark history of Scotland while weaving an intense love story in the middle of it. I love this book because it presents real decisions that need to be made between living in the past and Claire’s life in the present. Another book with many subtle details, PAY ATTENTION, they really are worth finding.
4. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling
Does this book need any explanation? It’s brilliant on so many levels. The underlying themes and messages of friendship and love make it one of my favorites in the entire series.
Harry discovers so much about the past and what’s to come in the future. It’s in many ways a coming of age story. The first two books, Harry is much more in a child’s world, but the third book really shows Harry entering manhood with the challenges and responsibilities that come with it. It’s everything you’d expect from a Harry Potter book with its clever characters, sprinkled cookie crumbs, and story driving dialogue. Cannot recommend this book enough. I’ve read it like seventeen times and probably will read it seventeen more.
5. Eragon by Christopher Paolini
Polished blue stone and a farm boy. What could go wrong? A lot! This is Paolini’s first published book in the Inheritance Cycle and although it shows throughout the writing, I as I writer enjoyed that. I enjoyed seeing how the writing progress unraveled throughout the story. In a way, it was a self-discovery tale for myself. The overall plot is really engaging and drives at a decent pace. The author builds languages, a deep world, and lots of back story to interest the reader kind of reminds me of Tolkien’s world of Middle Earth.
6. Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke
I’ve read this book a couple different times and listened to the Brendan Fraser audiobook and I have to say, each time is better. A silver dragon named Firedrake, a brownie named Sorrel, and a boy named Ben set off in an adventure to find the hidden Rim of Heaven where they will be safe from evil humans and an even more so evil beasts. Gosh, this book really ignites your imagination. I hope one day I can read it to my children!
7. Stardust by Neil Gaiman
A fallen star, a lost boy, and two vastly different worlds separated by a stone wall. A fairytale story that will bring you back to when you read The Brothers Grimm as a child, Stardust is full of humor and true love. It’s definitely targeted as an adult fairytale and as a grown adult, I enjoy the less childish approach that a normal fairytale might have.
8. The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
A story of beginnings, The Fellowship of the Ring has always been my favorite book of the series as well as favorite installment of the Peter Jackson films. I enjoy this number because it has the start of what is to be an epic journey. Not only do we meet all of our important characters and watch them traveled to Mordon to destroy the ring, but we see them face adversity and watch their plotlines weave away and travel in different directions. I recommend it to anyone! Tolkien’s work can never be praised enough.
9. The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis
To be frank, the first time I read this book was a few months ago. I’ve read the most popular entry in the series, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and never bothered venturing into any of the other books. After I received quite a bit of praise from other readers and a couple quotable moments throughout the book from my church, I decided to give it a read. My overall thoughts about the book were great. The story really mirrors the creation story in the bible and having diving deeper in my faith, I’ve noticed all the subtle easter eggs that Lewis incorporated in the fundamentals of Narnia and their stories. There’s a real sense of discovery as you find all those moments that make you smile. This book by far is my favorite in the series. Polly and Diggory’s characters were relatable as children and the Witch really remained me of the snake in the book Genesis.
10. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
A classic novel that really makes you think as you read. The Great Gatsby isn’t a particularly long story but I think that it packs a punch with the words it has. This book is a very old world. Times have changed, so it was nice to step back into New York during the early part of the 1900s. The lingo, the characters, and the story greatly reflect a time that has long since been forgotten about.
What crossroad am I approaching? London Bridge towards the National Rail Southeastern train surely.
Are my considerations haunting me? I can hear foolish gossip.
The wick on a wax candle burns until its finale. Am I at my wicks end– setting fire to the paper airplanes circling Westminster?
Another train passes by.
“This one yours?” asked the middle-aged conductor.
“No,” I said eyeing the face of my watch. “10:31 PM to Ladywell.”
The humming iron railways of the tube vibrate what delicate material is left between my ears. A Frenchman and his family depart for what seems like an extended holiday. They have suitcases and sun hutswith shades. I wonder if they’re going to Dover Beach. I haven’t been there since I was little–haven’t been anywhere but a cubicle since I left university. I wonder if it was worth it. Maybe corporate was a misstep. Numbers, paper, and white spaces will be at my demise. A tea cup party for all the miseries that my work smog brings.
I missed out on life’s focal moments.
A birthday here and there, the last few holidays.
Broke mother’s heart when father died– broke all of our hearts. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t be there. I didn’t try hard enough to be there. But no matter, father would have wanted me to travel onward. A man’s responsibility. Nevertheless it was the exact contrary of what I was doing.
I quit my employment. May have said a small number of cruel things in the process, but it felt moral– that was until my bank balance went red. I’ve been living off biscuits and tea since. The Blue Lady wants me out by the weekend. I’ve nowhere to stay. I’ll be displaced.
Another train passes by.
“Hey vister?” a heavy accented woman interrupted. “You vill be late.”
“No,” I said eyeing the face of my watch. “10:31 PM to Ladywell.”
“She departs—”
In leisurely time, I stroll around the plush gardens like a habitual squirrel. What was originally a causal appreciation of London’s magnificent cityscapes and unnerving settlers, hastily mutated into a scavenger hunt for eating– after all, a bloke has to survive somehow. That’s when mother started facilitating. A few pounds whenever she could. A full stomach meant more than being ashamed.
A bouquet of lilies wither away in my grasp, they’re meant for father’s grave in Brockley and Ladywell. Almost got clubbed by the Bobbies for ripping them from the earth at Kensington. If he could see me now.
Another train passes by.
“A wee bit late, ay?” asked a Scottish pop.
“Bullocks!” I took off with my messenger bag flapping the side of my thigh. The train’s doors were nearly sealed. A Chinese man was luckily enough to see my despaired as he wedged his size five into the door jam. ”Thanks mate,” I said kindly seating myself.
The soles of my oxfords are leaking rapidly with the murky rain water. I have two wet socks. I suppose it’s better than being barefoot like a peace protestor in the sixties.
New Cross
“Oi!” a dodgy punter shouted. “What’re you playing at?”
It took me a minute to understand why this shifty character was screaming at me. I guess the seat I was settled in was his,and the blond character sitting to my right was his “girl”. To be frank, she looked like everyone’s “girl”, but rather than land a black eye, I walked towards a seat elsewhere.
“Nice, right?” said the voice of my adjacent neighbor with a wink of her eye and before I knew it, we were laughing together.
“Who are those for?” she asked looking at the flowers in my hands.
“These? Oh, a grave,” I said putting a nail in the coffin of our happiness. Her face turned. “He was a funny man.”
“Was he?” she asked pulling the brunette curls from her face.
“Could make you have a fit and wet yourself,” I said. “A real knack for humor.
“How long has he–”
“Been dead?” I interjected, “Almost a year.”
“Still fresh?”
“Oh, nahh,” I lied.
St. Johns
“Tell me one of his anecdotes?” she requested. A poetry book was resting on her lap. The spine read, Romantic Poetry to Sooth the Soul and Safe You from Grief. I laughed a little on the inside.
“Uhm, he has this joke he told all the time,” I said searching for the right choice. “He has this one where he describes the Royals. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but their teeth– like a horses– more so than other Brits.”
“Mhm,” her way of signaling that she was still listening.
“He makes this face and imagines eating an apple through a picket fence. He’s American born, so his version of a British Accent is pretty terrible.”
“Oh yes,” she said laughing. “They do have abnormally larger teeth, I’ve noticed that myself as well. What does the face look like?”
“You sure?” I laughed. “I may scare you away.”
“Try me.”
“Alright– if you say so. ‘Ello’ Govena’,’” I said in a proper accent, like Dick Van Dyke. “Fancy a up’ of tea?” My lips moved back to revealing my front teeth.
Lewisham
We shared laughter together and both of our faces turned as bright as beets.
“Well done,” she said. “My names Emma.”
“I’m Peter,” I said kindly. “Where’re you headed?”
“Away,” she said.
“From where?” I pressed.
“Here.”
“I see.”
“Do you want to join?” she asked. “And journey into the unknown.”
My face searched for a sarcastic smile, but there wasn’t one to offer. “You’re serious?”
“Why not?” Emma said. “Unless you don’t want to.”
That was quite the opposite of what I wanted. Something new and exciting to rescue you me from old and mundane. Father’s grave wasn’t going anywhere. He would have desired me to be spontaneous and adventure.
“I don’t have any plans.”
“Perfecto,” Emma said. “Next stop? Hope a different rail?”
Ladywell
A bit hesitant that this was really happening, I agreed. We exited the train on to station’s landing. Emma and I found the train diagram and she sealed her eyes and aimed with her small index finger landing on Dover.
“Dover it is,” Emma fastened her bag.
“I haven’t any money,” I admitted.
“Neither do I,” Emma grinned. “Who pays for the tube?”
“Civilized human beings.”
“Who said I was civilized?” Emma said. “You’re a runaway, just like me aren’t you?”
I didn’t want to admit it at this time, but she was dead-on. I had nothing to my name other than the clothes on my back and the lint in my pockets. My likelihood of existence was wiry and would be much more electrifying in the company of another. And Emma’s impulsive trait may be pleasant in the unforeseen future.
“A little lost,” I admitted.
“Let’s go find you then,” Emma said. “I’m good at scavenger hunts.”
So much for a burnt candle sticks.
And that book of Poetry.
I set father’s lilies down and proceed towards my future.
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Current novels in progress
Photo by Valdemaras D. on Pexels.com
The Ocean and the Sky: A Young Adult Norse Novel (TOATS)
Rough outline: A retelling of the events of Ragnorak that follows the Norse god’s demise and the misadventures of Iric and Yrsa, orphaned twins from the village of Skarfsnes, who journey through the nine realms to find the lost Thor while being hunted by the ender of their world.
My current work in progress, “The Ocean and the Sky” is sitting at about 10,000 words at the time of writing this update. The first act is nearly wrapped up and I’m sending it out to select few fellow writers to give me some feedback. This will be the second full-length book that I’m attempting to write. My first, Out of Curiosity, may never see the light of day. But I’m happy that I was able to write that book. It taught me a lot about what I needed to learn and got out some of the amateur traits in my writing. Perhaps one day I’ll return to the world of Englionia and share Abbott’s and Elise’s tale. I dream about it often and when it’s time and I feel satisfied, one day it could all work out. But for now… all attending this story.
Camp NaNoWriMo
I plan on getting the large bulk of it finished in April for Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve set a goal for myself to reach about 50,000 words by May, so let us hope this early start is a good push to put me on track to reaching that goal. For some of you who don’t know what NaNoWriMo is, it stands for National Novel Writing Month. It allows us to connect with other writers and engage in events targeted at getting your novel’s finished. One thing that I’ve learned from the experience, is support really goes a long way. When you have thousands of other people trying to accomplish the same thing that you are, who can sympathize with your struggles, it makes the journey not feel like you’re all alone.
You can follow my Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 progress by following me on Instagram @alexanderwrites_
Books I’ve finished reading this time around
I just finished “A Darker Shade of Magic” by V.E. Schwab and I pleasantly enjoyed myself. The idea of multiple Londons took hold of my very early on and I believe that this novel offers a fresh take (at least in my literary mind) of how magic works in a story. I found myself really liking the character of Lila. Her attitude, the way she carries herself. She’s a survivor and a thief but underneath that armor, I believe there’s a real humanity to the character that is yet to be revealed in the next two books.
One thing about the book that really was a letdown, was the ending. It fell a little flat in my opinion, not to say that it was satisfying, but the Twins were supposed to be these big bad duo that warped people’s minds into doing their will. I just thought their endings were too quick, too soon. But nonetheless, I’m all about stories that glorify good and defeat evil. I will most certainly be continuing the series at one point or another.
Proceeding, “A Darker Shade of Magic” I finished reading Diana Gabaldon’s “Outlander” after a month or two. This book had me torn down the middle. Yes, I did watch the Starz series first, but only a few episodes and I ‘d have to admit this is a classic case of the book being far better than the series. The series is more engaging to watch but the book’s detail cannot be overlooked. This book is a lot different from what I’m used to reading. The plot was fairly slow compared to other books but that’s mostly because of its length and just the amount of detail Gabaldon goes in to. It was hard to overlook at first because it was like “she did this, and then this happened, and they went here, and so on” but once all the threads start coming together, the payoff is really worth it.
Outlander is a character-driven novel. Besides a few books, I’ve never really had an attachment to written characters, but Jamie and Claire really were pulling at my heartstrings. I wanted them to triumph through their perils and remain together. The same goes for Randall. As troubling as this may be to admit, I wanted him to die–– terribly. He is evil at all measures. The hurt he causes and the lives he ruins, I’ve never wanted to see a character’s death so much in a book. Far greater than the evil of Umbridge and Voldemort from the Harry Potter series. And I would have to say that was what worked incredibly well for this book. Character development.
Short stories and other writing updates
In April I will be releasing a fast fiction, “London’s Calling” along with a few smaller stories to be spread throughout.
London’s Calling
My center is to remain completely focused on TOATS (The Ocean and the Sky) before I tackle any newer projects. If I have time, I will be releasing a novella entitled, “Sir Camelot” in the coming months. I’m approaching the finish. The story just needs editing and beta reading before sending it out into the world.
Sir Camelot synopsis: Sir Camelot, knighted on his father’s deathbed, is a drunk with an inflated ego. When years pass by and the King announces a quest that will place Sir Camelot amount the star-studded hero’s of the past, he chops his way into action with the help of his esquire, Benedict. Together, they fight a beast that plagues a neighboring village with humor, wits, and a little bit of luck.
We dined on caviar and champagne until our words slurred and our bodies motioned us into the night. Humming taxies and swerving buses circled the city like the dreams in our subconscious minds. And our ears caught the keyed melody of an accordion. My fingers drummed away to Louis Armstrong’s “La Vie En Rose” and your chapped lips kissed mine— a firework show blinded by fermented fish.
After, we tiptoed my ballet flats to her, and like a diamond she sat and sparkled. The lure was a desire to be discovered. A precious stone in the Parisian skyline. The tricolore waved in the nightfall before the heavens poured in tears. As the little droplets bounced from our faces and soaked our clothes, we proceeded to dance to our heart’s content. Angels from above joined and cherubs flew from the chapel on Boulevard du Palais. Little ivory faces spectated, anticipated, and fantasized.
“Je t’aime,” you whispered. “Ma dame.”
A value far greater than the diamonds of the world and yet still, as simple as a night in Paris.
In the small village of Norwell, a magician whipped and whirled incantations from the nose of his umbrella, a wish-granting spell, beneath the shade of a willow tree.
As the spectacle was seen by all, there came three men before him, each eager to receive their heart’s desire.
The first man asked for his wish without hesitation. He wanted all of the fortunes of the world for himself. The wizzy magician laughed to himself a little and when the man asked why he was laughing, the magician answered, “you’re already the richest man in the world.”
“It isn’t enough,” the man said.
Then came the next man and wished for the woman of his dreams—his true love. The magician chuckled again, and said, “but you are already loved by a beautiful wife and three wonderful children.”
“It’s not enough,” the man said.
And when the magician turned to the third and final man and requested to hear his wish, there was hesitation.
“I wish peace for the sick,” the man said, “and fulfilled promises for the dying.”
The magician’s face went stern and his head shifted from side to side like a barn owl and then he vanished from the three men’s sight just as he appeared.
“What a waste,” the first and second men said in agreement. “Doesn’t grant real wishes.”
The third man felt something delicate enter his hand and sitting in his palm was a flower that grew before his eyes. A snowdrop. A promise.
Our fingers interlock. Fumes of Lemongrass twirl from her sweater, igniting my senses. Rhythmic beats beneath her breast bone soothe my wounds. We wait with bated breath like a game of chess— she has me at checkmate.
Glittering hazel eyes study the portrait of tomorrow and lips of rose meet that of my own. All that pained before, pained no more. A kiss worth a thousand of life’s delicate tragedies and simply, a blessing blossoming.
In a dusty old box, lost in a maze. I searched for a relic of your past. A vinyl disk, the one we listened to countless times on a Sunday. I lowered the needle and the warm tones ran like a woodland stream, transporting me back to when things were blue. Because today is a Sunday and I simply miss you.
ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a boy named Jack who lived in a red cottage just on the edge of a woodland. Jack lived there with his mother, father, and two siblings. He was the last-born child and had a real sense of imagination. Everyday Jack wondered in the woods to play in his secret world. And each day he begged his siblings to go, but they refused. “We’re too old for that stuff,” they would say. But each day Jack would ask the same question, “Won’t you join me to play today?”
Jack’s world of Forestia was a magical place. In Forestia there were fairies, elves, dwarfs and sprites, not to mention talking animals. Jack’s best friend in the whole world of Forestia was Harrison, a talking rabbit, and together they got into as much mischief as possible, but when the sun’s light dimmed, Jack returned home to sleep and rest his imagination.
Jack was prohibited from entering Forestia after dark. It was too dangerous for a boy of his age. There were beasts that ate little boys and witches that drank putrid potions of the blood of children. Harrison made Jack promise every night as he walked him out to the Woodland’s Edge to return straight home and not to come back until after the first light of dawn. Jack never had an issue following that rule, after all, he was frightened by the dark.
On one lovely blue day, Jack awoke from the sun’s rays passing through his bedroom glass. Jack gave a deep stretch, yawned and went down to breakfast. Today his mom made his favorite, porridge. Jack wolfed the porridge down ravenously and like he did every day, he asked his siblings, “Won’t you join me to play today?”
In harmony, they declined the offer. “We’re too old for that stuff,” they said.
Jack slumped in his chair to throw a fit. He immensely desired for his siblings to join him in Forestia so they could meet all the lovely friends he’d made. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be happening today.
Once Jack grew tired of his fit and realized that his siblings wouldn’t be changing their minds, he left the table to ventured into Forestia. There on the Woodland’s Edge was a crab apple tree. Harrison stood here every day and greeted Jack with a warm fluffy hug. Jack, however, was not as cheery to see Harrison as Harrison was to see him.
“What’s wrong my friend?” asked Harrison.
“My brother and sister, they will not play with me. I ask but they say they are too old.”
Harrison hugged young Jack tightly and Jack began to cry.
“Do not cry, my friend. Today I will show you a wonderful secret I have discovered,” Harrison comforted.
Jack wiped the tears from his face and followed Harrison to wherever this secret discovery was hidden.
Deep into Forestia they walked until the red house was invisible from the trees, and they were lost to their sounds. They crossed over the river by an old shabby log and followed the clovers inland. The birds chirped and they sang sweet songs about the morning dew and fair maidens that occasionally passed through. Jack paused to dance to their tunes and lost himself to their catchy melodies.
Dance, oh dance to our humming tunes
Sing, oh sing till your heart gleams
Dream with us dream, allow your mind to loom
For into Forestia you go!
“Come now friend, I have something truly wonderful to show you,” Harrison said as he hopped ahead.
Many large oaks they passed and each covered in more moss than the last. The anticipation was starting to get to young Jack. He needed a hint of what this secret was and touched his friend’s soft tail to inquire for an answer.
“It’s just up ahead passed the large stones,” Harrison ensured.
The grey stones stood before them. Jack ascended over them like they were gravel in his path and once above them, it revealed a world of wonder. Thousands of speckled purples and pinks, yellows and blues, greens and reds filled their eyes. They were at the home of the fairies.
“Welcome to the Luminous Lands,” Harrison said. “Where fairies danced upon their homes made of flowers and all the plants in the valley shine forever.”
Fairies giggled and laughed at the sight of poor Jack. They had never seen a boy so young in the Luminous Lands, and they took turns tugging on Jack’s curling hair and pinching his red shiny nose.
“Oh my, how have you found such a beautiful sight?” Jack asked, as he marveled at fairies buzzing around, little trails of dust followed.
“Found em’ last night breaking into my tea storage,” Harrison said. “They enjoy English Breakfast.”
“Hello there! I am Thistle, Lord of the Fairies and overseer of the Luminous Lands, Chief Lumineer. What brings you upon our preparation for our lunar celebration?”
“We are just passing by in the land and wanted a look for ourselves at this incredible place,” Harrison said.
Thistle fluttered his wings and took a spinning dive into the palm of Jack.
“Do you wish to join us in the celebration tonight?” He asked. “You will hear songs and we will feast until the sun rises again. Thimble and Needle have arrived back from their magical quest to find the moon’s daughter.”
“Oh, how I wish I could join but the dark of night is no place for me,” Jack said. “I must wait until the first light of dawn before I come back into Forestia again.”
Harrison shook his furry head in approval.
“Well then, explore and have a look around. You may just find something you thought was lost, but is now found.”
Thistle fluttered his wings and sped off leaving a trail of gold dust behind.
Harrison and Jack looked and they looked. There were spectacles beyond their imagination. Iridescent plants of all silhouettes and masses, remarkable to say the least.
After their journey in the Luminous Lands concluded, Harrison escorted young Jack back to Woodland’s Edge to say farewell.
“What a pleasant day that was, but you should return straight to home and don’t come back until after the first light of dawn. I will await you tomorrow.”
And Jack did just that.
That night Jack’s dreams illuminated with small winged specks. He could only imagine what sort of celebration they were having that night. He was content with what the world of Forestia had revealed to him that day.
The next day began with patches of clouds quilted into the sky. Jack yawned and exited from his bed to the kitchen for breakfast. It was his second favorite that his mom made today, cream of wheat. Jack devoured the cream of wheat. And when the contents of his bowl were empty, he asked his siblings again, “Won’t you join me to play today?” Yet again they declined the offer. “We’re too old for that stuff,” they said.
“But I want to show you, Thistle, he’s the Lord of the Fairies. He’s rather funny. I think you’d like him,” Jack said.
“Fairies don’t exist brother,” they said. “Don’t you know that?”
Jack slumped in his chair deeper than he had the day before. He very much wanted his siblings to join him in Forestia so they could meet all the lovely friends he’d made so far. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be happening today.
Jack departed the kitchen for Forestia, and there on the edge of the Woodland’s Edge was Harrison to greet him underneath a crab apple tree. When Harrison offered a warm fluffy hug, he noticed poor Jack sniffling his nose.
“What’s wrong my friend?” asked Harrison.
“My brother and sister will not play with me. I ask and I ask but they say they are too old.”
Harrison hugged young Jack a bit tighter than the previous day and Jack began to cry.
“Do not cry, my friend. Today I will show you another wonderful secret I have discovered. It will surely beat the Luminous Lands we saw yesterday” Harrison comforted. “Follow me and let your sadness where off.”
Jack wiped the tears from his face and followed Harrison. Deep into Forestia, they went until the red house was invisible from the trees. Harrison and Jack crossed over the river by a log and followed the clovers inland. The birds chirped and they sang sweet songs about twinkling sprites and unicorns that pranced through. Jack paused to dance to their tunes and lost himself to their melodies.
Dance, oh dance to our humming tunes
Sing, oh sing till your heart gleams
Dream with us dream, allow your mind to loom
For into Forestia you go!
Jack entered the Luminous Landsand greeted Thistle with a warm welcome, but they continued forward to the next secret that was waiting to be uncovered. Harrison bounded and he leaped until finally, he stood stationary on a cliffside.
“Look there, look there,” Harrison instructed. “It’s the Magical Mountain home of the dwarfs!”
Jack had not met a dwarf before, although Harrison often talked about them. He imagined dwarfs were little men no bigger than himself that carried large wooden pickaxes mining for gold and silver. On the cliffside was an entrance. Jointly they entered the hole discovering that it was indeed a mineshaft. They followed it until it met its end, where they met a magical friend. Laughing a very jolly laugh and smoking a very fine pipeweed was a dwarf.
“Hail the’ hail the’ it is me, Brownbeard the keeper of Magical Mountain, a miner of precious jewels, and owner of the Opalite Citron.” Brownbeard was no taller than Jack, as he imagined, and held a pickaxe made from the very steel ore he mined. His long brown beard, which he was well known for, dropped to the floor beneath. “How may I be of assistance? Do you come to hear my fancy tales or rob my blind of all my wealth?”
“We are just passing through and wanted to say hello,” Harrison said. “A story or two would be more than okay if I say so myself.”
Brownbeard told them stories of his family, the Beards Clan, and their great quests for amethyst crystals within Forestia’s rock. He showed them the Opalite Citron. It was a magical color of white and blue that was set in a crown of gold. Brownbeard let Jack wear it on his tiny head before he reclaimed the cherished procession and returned it to its home. And when the light began to dim in the tunnel, they decide it was time to make their way home, saying farewell to their newfound friend.
When they came to Woodland’s Edge, Harrison offered a hug and Jack was thrilled beyond wonder. Yesterday he had seen fairies and no he’d just met a dwarf. He could hardly wait to share this information with his siblings There was no way they’d pass on playing with him tomorrow.
“What a pleasant day it has been, now my friend, return straight to home and don’t come back until after the first light of dawn. I will wait for you here until you return.”
Jack did as Harrison instructed. That night his dreams circled between magical mines filled with riches beyond and a celebration of glowing fairies.
He was content with what the world of Forestia had shown him that day.
The dawn of the next day came, but the sun’s rays did not wake Jack up like usual. Instead, the sound of rain pattering against his glass beating like a drum, caused Jack to stir in his sleep until at last, he woke.
Jack stretched and slowly made his way for breakfast. This time it was his third favorite, blueberry scones. When his mother presented such warm delicious treats, Jack gobbled his down like it was his last feast. His siblings sat and stared out the window looking miserable as ever.
“Won’t you join me to play today?” Jack asked. “I’ve met a dwarf named Brownbeard that I’d want you to meet. He has a crown called the Opalite Citron. He will let you wear it if you’d like.”
They shook their heads and dismissed the offer a third time. “We’re too old for that stuff,” they said. “Besides dwarfs don’t exist. That’s all in your head. When are you going to understand that?”
Jack felt words slip from his mouth.
“You never want to play with me, why? I’ve told you of the things I see and all I want to do is share with you all the love and joy that it brings.”
“Brother, don’t you know that the forest can be a deceiving place?” they said.
Jack wilted in his chair. He had no idea what the word deceiving meant, but why didn’t they believe him? Forestia was a place where they could all adventures together, as a family.
Once his siblings cleared, Jack snuck out to Woodland’s Edge, again alone. There Harrison waited to greet him underneath the crab apple tree. His furry hands shook in excitement. But when Harrison offered his warm fluffy hug, he noticed poor Jack’s rosy red cheeks.
“What’s wrong my friend?” asked Harrison.
“My brother and sister will not play with me. I’ve asked three times but they say they are too old. They said it’s all in my head, but it can’t be. You’re right here.”
Harrison hugged young Jack one more time a bit tighter than the previous days, but Jack began to cry once more.
“Do not cry, my friend. Today I will show you another wonderful secret I have discovered. It will surely beat the Luminous Lands and the Magical Mountain we saw yesterday,” Harrison comforted. “Follow me and let your sadness be off at once. One of these days they will come to play with you.”
Jack wiped the tears from his face and followed Harrison. Deep into Forestia, they went until the red house was invisible from the trees. Harrison and Jack crossed over the river by a log and followed the clovers inland. The birds chirped and they sang sweet songs about the triumphs of knights and their quests for the holy grail. Jack paused to dance to their tunes and lost himself to their melodies.
Dance, oh dance to our humming tunes
Sing, oh sing till your heart gleams
Dream with us dream, allow your mind to loom
For into Forestia you go!
Jack and Harrison passed through the Luminous Landsand greeted Thistle with a warm welcome. They stopped at the cliffside to greet Brownbeard with a handshake and continued deeper in Forestia.
There they came upon a den dug into a grassy hill. Behind a veil of trees there laid a fierce beast that man loved the least. Protected under an armor of green scales, the beast was no match for anyone to defeat, for no arrow could pierce its heart. When Harrison and Jack drew near, a chill ran up their tiny spines of fear.
“Halt there, halt there. If you mean to hurt me, then be off at once. But if you speak friend, you may enter. It is me, Dragovich the dragon. Ruler of fire and king of all creatures. What business do you have in my lands?”
“We come to gaze upon your magnificence,” Harrison humbly said. “And remember what used to be in the world of Forestia.”
Dragovich spread his emerald wings into their full size. He roared like a beast, spitting fire from his mouth.
“Does this live up to your expectations?” asked Dragovich.
“My, oh my, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Jack said. “May we ride you into the sky?”
“I don’t see why not,” Dragovich said. Jack and Harrison climbed upon the dragon’s back, ready for what was to come.
Dragovich leaped into the air, flying higher and higher into the sky. It was an occurrence like no other. And when Dragovich had flown above all of the lands in Forestia, he returned to his den so that his riders could dismount. The sun’s light was dimming down, it was time for Jack to return home.
“Thank you gentle dragon for that wonderful ride. I’ll always remember it even when I’m old. You are the mighty Dragovich,” said Jack.
“You are a kindhearted little boy. I will always memorize you,” said Dragovich as he scrambled back into his lair.
“Let us return you home,” Harrison said and they strolled the whole way back to Woodland’s Edge. When they made it there, Harrison offered a hug.
“What a pleasant day that was, now return straight to home and don’t come back until after the first light of dawn.”
Jack thrice more did just that. His dreams circled glowing fairies and magical mines and flying emerald dragons. He was content with what the world of Forestia had shown him that day. His siblings would stand no chance against the curiosity of a dragon. They would play with him tomorrow. He knew that.
The next day originated in a violent storm. It was dangerous for poor Jack to visit his friends in Forestia, his mom made him stay inside until the dark clouds vanished.
Jack did not yawn from his drowsiness, he was not tired, instead, he sat and looked out his bedroom window and waited to be called for breakfast. Today it was his least favorite, toast. Jack marched into his seat at the table, joined by his two siblings who laughed amusingly.
“When the storm stops, won’t you join me to play today?” asked Jack. “I’ve met a dragon named Dragovich. He’s a really nice and we can go flying on his back.”
His siblings giggled and responded, “Jack we are too old for that stuff. Besides, don’t you know dragons do not exist? Neither do dwarfs or fairies. You’re making this all up and you will be disappointed when you realize it.”
Jack slammed the back into his chair.
“How do you even know it isn’t real unless you come with me to see for yourself?” He asked. “All you do is sit inside.”
“We were childish once like you,” they said.
Jack cried and cried. He was fed up with his siblings. If only for a day that played with him, Jack would be okay with that. He just wanted to share all that he’d seen so they could adventure as a family.
Jack’s mom entered the kitchen and sat down at the table to comfort Jack.
“You three shall all go outside today when the rain clears and play with Jack. He’s asked so nicely three times already and surely you can do something together like a family,” she said.
Jack felt an instant feeling of butterflies explode from the depths of his stomach. He would finally get to show his siblings Forestia.
Jack lingered and anticipated by the window until the storm finally passed. There was lightning and thunder and then it was no more. The sun’s rays broke through the clouds and shinned its presence on the red house and its land.
All three of them suited up in their most comfortable clothes. Mittens, hats, and scarfs to keep them warm from the rains doing. For the first time as a family, they ventured out to the Woodland’s Edge underneath the crab apple tree. Jack strutted with anticipation to where Harrison usually waited, but today he was nowhere to be seen.
Jack called and called for his friend, but there was no answer.
“Harrison, my friend, he’s not here,” Jack said. “He’s a small rabbit about my size.”
His siblings gave him a look of disbelief before they snickered and sneered.
Maybe he was with the fairies, Jack thought, after all, it is much later than he was used to coming to Forestia. Perhaps Harrison grew impatient waiting for him and venture off alone.
Deep into Forestia they went, until the red house was invisible from the trees. Together they crossed over the river by a log and followed the clovers inland. The birds chirped and they twitched. Jack stopped to dance to their tunes and lost himself to their melodies.
His siblings turned embarrassed.
“What are you doing brother?” They asked.
“Don’t you hear their songs?” Jack asked.
“There is nothing but the sound of that stream behind us,” they said.
Jack sang out loud,
“Dance, oh dance to our humming tunes
Sing, oh sing till your heart gleams
Dream with us dream, allow your mind to loom
For into Forestia you go!”
His siblings faces went flush blank, and Jack turned bright red. Why couldn’t they hear the songs? They were playing so clearly through his ears. He couldn’t be going crazy.
Jack proceeded to take his siblings to the Luminous Lands, but he found no fairies present. All that remained were charred logs with a sooty rock circle around them. The luminous plants that he’d seen days before were nowhere to be seen.
Jack insisted that they follow him to the Magical Mountain to meet Brownbeard, but when they came upon the mineshaft all that they could see were signs of caution.
“We cannot go in there. It’s dangerous,” they said.
“I go in there all the time. That’s where Brownbeard lives. He’s the dwarf I was telling you about,” Jack said, but they did not believe him and they refused to go into the mineshaft.
His siblings looked at Jack as if he were deranged. Who would go into a mineshaft in pure darkness?
Jack’s embarrassment was starting to get to him. Why had none of his friends come out to say hello? Were they upset with him for showing up late? Harrison never abandoned Jack. In a last chance of hope, he walked to the dragon’s den. Perhaps all his friends would be waiting there to surprise him and meet his siblings. All at once Jack thought would be the easiest way for introductions.
And then, once his siblings saw the mighty beast, they would believe everything that he told them. But when they arrived at the dragon’s den, all that was there was a desolate burrow.
“Dragovich, it’s me, Jack. I’ve brought my brother and sister to gaze upon your might,” Jack said but no roar greeted him. Dragovich was nowhere to be found.
“We told you that it wasn’t real,” his siblings said. “None of what you saw was real.”
“You have to believe me,” Jack pleaded. “My friends were all here just yesterday. We’ve played every day together.”
“I’m not sure we can believe anything you say,” they said as they headed back towards home.
“But what about me? I cannot see in the dark. I am afraid to be alone. Wait for me?” Jack asked but they did not listen. The siblings continued through the dark forest until they exited from Woodland’s Edge back to their red house with not a care in the world about their brother’s safety.
The sun was all but gone and Jack dropped to his knees in tears while the remaining light dimmed away.
When the twinkling of the stars appeared overhead, Jack motioned upwards, teary-eyed, and saw that there was something beautiful in the darkness of night. In all of his life, he’d never seen the stars. What could be so terrifying about the dark? He wondered.
The moon’s pale face lit the forest in front of him. He could find his way home, but when the hooting of owls echoed overhead, Jack stopped and heard the snapping of twigs in the brush beside him. His heart pumped vigorously and his skin began to crawl. A pair of yellow eyes watched him in the dark underground. Jack knew at once that it was a monster. The very things that Harrison tried to protect him from.
The creature stepped beneath the moonlight and gave an aggressive howl. It was a silver furred wolf. A growling erupted from between its breast bones as it inched closer to Jack. The wolf was hungry, there was no doubt about that.
“Don’t hurt me. I’m just a little boy,” Jack pleaded.
“But I’m terribly hungry tonight,” said the wolf. “I’ll swallow you in one bite if you come without a fight. I’m old and haven’t the energy to chase after my food any longer.”
“I shouldn’t be in the forest after dark, Harrison was right,” Jack said as he accepted his fate. Within no time he’d be in a wolves belly.
The wolf’s jaws gaped open large enough for the boy to enter.
“Just walk right inside,” the wolf said. “It won’t hurt a bit. You will not have to worry about disappointing your siblings any longer.”
“How do you know about that?” Jack asked.
“A wolf sees all things, even in the daylight. Their brains don’t paint as pretty of a picture as yours does. They aren’t worth eating. They have nothing left to imagine. We wolves take it from them, and replace it with fear. They walk through life sad and lost, as will you when I’m finished with you.”
Jack thought over the wolf’s comments.
“They cannot see?” asked Jack
“They will see as much as you will. The empty pit of the inside of my belly. Now climb in and learn to welcome what you see,” said the wolf.
“Oh no,” Jack said as he moved closer to the wolf’s mouth. There was an awful rotten stench that filled Jack’s nose. This was it, this was the way Jack thought he’d die. If only he had listened to Harrison. He wouldn’t be here now.
When Jack’s hope seemed to be lost, there was a sudden rumbling from the soil and the wolf’s head spun to meet the face of an emerald dragon.
“Leave the boy alone!” Dragovich roared.
Jack’s eyes met Harrisons as he and Brownbeard dismounted from the dragon’s back. Thistle and the other fairies stretched out into a castle wall between Jack and the wolf like little soldiers protecting their King.
“Let me have at him!” Brownbeard said as he swung his ax at the wolf’s tail splitting it in two.
“Ouch!” The wolf cried in pain.
“If you’re going to eat him, you’ll have to eat us all too,” Harrison said as he hopped next to Jack. “Hold my hand. Do not be afraid.”
Dragovich spewed his wicked fire all over the wolf. The Fairies of the Luminous Lands threw little glowing balls to blind his eyesight. And Brownbeard chased the wolf off like a mad man. When the wolf had finally disappeared wounded and beaten, the friends regrouped.
“You all saved me from that terrible wolf. My friends have saved me. If not for you, I’d be a prisoner in his awful belly,” Jack said.
“The dark is no place for a child. There are monsters that hurt children out here,” Harrison said. “Why have you disobeyed my one rule?”
Jack recounted the events of the day and explained that his siblings left him here alone before dark.
“You were all nowhere to be found? I looked so I could show them, but you didn’t appear. Where were you? They don’t believe me.”
“We were with you the whole time,” Harrison said.
Dragovich, Brownbeard, and Thistle met Jack at his side.
“That’s not possible,” Jack said. “They couldn’t see you at all.”
“Did you doubt that we’d show up?” asked Harrison.
“I mean, I did, but you––”
“We are always with you Jack, even when you are sleeping at night. We protect you from the evil in the dark, but if you start to doubt us like your siblings, we will all fade into your memory,” Harrison explained. “Although we may not be real to others, we are very real to you. Remember to always believe, no matter what others may say. Just because you can’t touch something with your hands, doesn’t mean it’s not real. Some things always reside deep in your heart where only you can see them.”
“I won’t ever listen to what they say,” Jack announced. “You are all my friends, friends for life.” Jack thanked Thistle and the other fairies, Brownbeard and his ax, and Dragovich for their courage and bravery. He reserved his final thank you for Harrison. And when he wrapped his little arms around his fluffy friend, he had the feeling of never wanting to let go.
“You’re my best friend,” Jack said. “Forever.”
Harrison walked Jack back to Woodland’s Edge where they saw the glow of a lantern bobbing down the hill. Both Jack’s mother and father worriedly rushed to their lost son.
“Same time tomorrow?” asked Harrison.
“After the first light of dawn,” Jack said and smiled as he ran towards his parents.
Harrison grinned and watched the reunion. His work here had been completed.
“So proud of you,” Harrison said as a tear dropped from his furry cheek.
IT WAS NOVEMBER TWENTY-SECOND and winter had come early that year. Shivering winds from the East swept over a desolate town and covered it in impenetrable frost. The local savings bank and grocery stores remained closed until the weather retreated. This storm had brought the town back into the dark ages of history. Fortunately, there were snowplows to clear off the roads and volunteers at the local food bank traveling door to door, dressed like little marshmallows, handing out food to the elderly, who couldn’t get it otherwise. But of all the places that should have been closed during this snowstorm, one was not.
Lou’s Restaurant remained open snow or shine. Never in sixty-three years of the restaurant’s history had it closed its doors. Not on Christmas, not on New Years, and certainly not with a six feet of snow on the ground and a sheet of ice on the roads. There was still money to be made, belly to be stuffed, and most importantly, a long-standing legacy to be upheld.
A few years ago, Lous’ was acknowledged as a historical site, but everyone knew that what magic was there at that time, had now long since disappeared. The getup itself was disgusting and it never used to be like that. What quality chefs Lou’s employed had long since passed away to leave the fate of this establishment to their spoiled sons, whom we all know give as little of a shit about family honor and care more about filling their jewel-studded pockets. It was a matter of years before that inherited legacy was rammed into the ground among all the other failed family businesses. On a good day, the place could approximately serve four guests. On a bad day, someone threw a rotten tomato at the window or perhaps a rock with a note stating vulgar remarks.
The once-secret ingredient to Lou’s was the murals illustrated on the front walls. These hand-painted stories chronicled the town’s forgotten football team. Some parts even had signatures from the players of the good old days themselves. Lou’s also served the magnificent J. F. K., himself, who was frequent before running for president in the late fifties. Jack had his own booth with a very hush-hush and very special menu, but everyone knew what a little money and fame would do for you then. A picture of Jack shaking hands with Lou hung at eye level inside the men’s bathroom, right above the urial. It was proof that there were more prosperous days hidden in the past than laden on the horizon ahead.
But still, Lou’s carried on, by the clutches of its seat, and today was no exception.
The first guest entered Lou’s by way of the ancient fifties-style doors. They swung open with a ring and through the jam, appeared a man, dressed from head to toe in warm materials, largely consisting of wool. As the customer entered, the only waiter on shift greeted him with a warm but unkept smile.
“Pick where ever you’d like to sit my dear,” she said. “You’ve every seat to choose from.” She laughed awkwardly and collected a glass of water and a pitcher for her customer.
The man limped towards a ripped vinyl booth in the rear next to the emergency exit door. This booth had golden rivets and maroon leather covers, that had all since cracked like the salt flats of Utah.
“Can I fetch you a cup of coffee, my dear?” the plump waiter asked. The ruffled silver pinned name tag read the name Stephanie, which would have made sense after reading it. Her face screamed that name.
“Yes, two cups but no sugar. A little cream.”
“Expecting company?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes, as always,” the lamb man said.
Stephanie nodded her head and wobbled her way back behind the counter to turn on the coffee pot for a fresh cup. The aroma of canned house coffee drifted through the air and when the pot completed its brewing cycle, Stephanie noticed her customer placed a shoe sized box on the seat in front of him. The lamb man spoke to it. He smiled and he laughed as the conversation intensified. And when she was certain that this man wasn’t of sound mind, she noticed him place a photo on top of the box. It was an older photo, like the one you’d take with a Polaroid camera, there was a thick white border at the bottom.
If you were watching this happen, you might have assumed the wrong thing, however, Stephanie was well versed with unusual customers. Just last week an elderly woman came into dining with her seventeen cats. They all wanted tuna. The placed reeked with feces after. Mrs. Fisher was her name and she’d been coming here since she was a little girl, just this time with more guests than usual. And the week prior a boy that appeared to be ten came to order a beer with his lunch. He had a fake ID under the name Lone Star Rider. Whatever weird came through that door, Stephanie was prepared to handle it.
Tip-toeing back with two pipping coffees balanced on her sausage fingers, the waiter placed the cups in front of her customer and the lamb man removed the winter shell from his shoulders and greeted the warm cup with his bluish fingers. The man pushed his grey hair across his head, removing his hat.
“Did you want to order now or wait for your guest?” Stephanie asked shifting her eyes towards the box resting on the bench seat. The photo was too worn to make out.
“We’re ready now I think,” he said. “I’ll have the Eggs Benedict and she’ll have the chicken and waffles with extra syrup on the side.”
Stephanie looked up from her notepad.
“Is that okay?” asked the man.
“Hon, you can have whatever it is you want, no judgments here.”
The lamb man turned to his server and smiled.
“Eggs over easy?” she asked and was answered with a nod and collected the menu.
Two ivory eggs splattered on the grill top. It didn’t take long to finish the orders. The hollandaise sauce was reheated from the previous week and the waffles were freshly frozen, a quick zap in a toaster oven was all it took to bring them up to his standards. The health department definitely wouldn’t have agreed with the quality of this food. Truthfully, Lou’s should have been shut down years ago when the raw chicken was served to a customer, but for an unknown reason, there was never any negative action taken.
“Order up,” yelled the cook.
Stephanie retrieved the two oval plates from the kitchen window.
“Here you are dear,” she said placing the plates down on the table. “Those waffles get cold rather quickly. Will your guest be joining you soon?”
“She’s already here,” the lamb man said rifling through his breakfast like a ravenous wolf. “Aren’t yah Jackie?”
“Mmhmm, let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
Stephanie could not but help examining the man sit there and talk to himself. He slapped the table at the punchline of all his jokes and somehow he knew all the responses to his questions.
“How are the waffles?” he asked and where one would have expected a person to say good or bad he let out a laugh. “Isn’t that true, they’re not like the ones you make. Can I have a bite?”
“No,” Stephanie thought to herself.
“Why not? I always share with you,” the man responded.
“Finish your food first and then I may share,” Stephanie replied.
“Very well,” the man said.
Stephanie could not help but watch the series of events unfold the infant of her eyes, but just when conversation made an interesting turn, the restaurant door’s swung open and more guests entered.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Can we be seated?”
Stephanie exited her haze.
“Yes—sit wherever you’d want—like.”
The family of three seated themselves and Stephanie poured them water and gave them menus before taking the route to check up on her other table.
“Everything tasting good?” Stephanie asked.
“Good, it was good wasn’t it?” asked the lamb man.
“I asked you—”
“I was talking to her,” the man pointed across the table at the box and the chicken and waffles.
“To whom?” she asked.
“My wife,” he smiled, “Jackie.”
The photo fell on the floor and Stephanie went to pick it up out of courtesy. Her reach was soon met by the lamb mans’ but not without revealing what the photo was. There is a pink spring dress, on a boat with a cigarette in her hand was Jackie. Her thick brown hair blew in the sea’s wind while she read. She was pregnant. It was dated 1963.
“What’re you doing?” the man asked.
“I just—you dropped your photo,” Stephanie stuttered.
“Don’t touch it!” yelled the lamb man.
“She was beautiful.”
“Was? She is beautiful,” the man grew violent. “She is beautiful.”
You can follow my Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 progress by following me on Instagram @alexanderwrites_
Proceeding, “A Darker Shade of Magic” I finished reading Diana Gabaldon’s “Outlander” after a month or two. This book had me torn down the middle. Yes, I did watch the Starz series first, but only a few episodes and I ‘d have to admit this is a classic case of the book being far better than the series. The series is more engaging to watch but the book’s detail cannot be overlooked. This book is a lot different from what I’m used to reading. The plot was fairly slow compared to other books but that’s mostly because of its length and just the amount of detail Gabaldon goes in to. It was hard to overlook at first because it was like “she did this, and then this happened, and they went here, and so on” but once all the threads start coming together, the payoff is really worth it.
Outlander is a character-driven novel. Besides a few books, I’ve never really had an attachment to written characters, but Jamie and Claire really were pulling at my heartstrings. I wanted them to triumph through their perils and remain together. The same goes for Randall. As troubling as this may be to admit, I wanted him to die–– terribly. He is evil at all measures. The hurt he causes and the lives he ruins, I’ve never wanted to see a character’s death so much in a book. Far greater than the evil of Umbridge and Voldemort from the Harry Potter series. And I would have to say that was what worked incredibly well for this book. Character development.
Alexander Richter 