Tuesday Enchants: Blanche Neige (Snow White)

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A few weeks ago, the Ballet Preljocaj from Provence brought its captivating Blanche Neige (Snow White), production to Chapel Hill’s Memorial Hall.

Images: Ballet Preljocal

Unfortunately, I didn’t see it. I only found out it was here the morning after the performance. When I realized I’d missed it, I actually cried. I mean, look how GORGEOUS:

The costumes were designed by fashion genius Jean Paul Gaultier.

 

 

If you get the chance to see this production in your city, PLEASE comment with details! It had only a limited number of dates in the U.S., but I am hoping they’ll be back!

 

Fab Book Friday: Why All Parents are Magicians

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This is supposed to be a review of The Giver by Lois Lowry. 

It’s been hard to sit down and write about this book. It stirred up so many emotions within me, it’s been difficult to sift through them all and figure out WHY I feel so strongly about this story.

But here’s what I know: I believe every parent should read this book.

Logic and rational thought rule in the society where Jonas lives. His world has been masterfully created so that human beings don’t feel pain, or much of anything at all. Citizens must take pills to control their emotions. Everything is regulated, even the weather. Imagine living in a place where there is a committee who makes all of life’s big decisions for you. They choose your mate, your profession, even who your children are. Babies born must pass certain tests and show the right kind of disposition, or they are not kept. The sick and the old are released from society and never able to come back. People no longer see color. Everything is black and white.

Would this be utopia? Or dystopia? It’s hard to say.

Books are forbidden, except for two very special, chosen people. One is The Giver, a wrinkled old man with pale eyes who is like a living library. He keeps within him all of the memories and history of society. He alone knows the past, memories of war and blood and love and the thrill of sledding on a snowy hillside in the cold. And every few generations, when The Giver gets frail and thin, a twelve year old Receiver is chosen. This child will be given each and every memory The Giver has. He will learn all of society’s secrets, and everything that happened before it was established. He will contain all of these memories so that the other citizens can remain blissfully ignorant.

I didn’t read this book as a child. Somehow, I missed it when it came out in 1993, which is hard to believe. I was in middle school at that time, the age group for which it was intended. I must have been too busy reading Stephen King. Anyway, I haven’t been able to form an opinion yet about how this story would impact children of that age. I can’t imagine it having the same affect on me then. But reading it as a parent was a very enlightening, even world-changing, experience. And that’s what great art is. Something that elevates your moral understanding of life, and in this case, what my job is as a parent.

This book very clearly illustrates to me how the moment a child is born, every parent becomes a magician. The moment you become a parent, you are bestowed with the gift of magic to create illusions about the world. We weave an enchantment which allows our children to believe that the world is a safe and happy place. We cast a spell which makes our children the center of the universe. I imagine this illusion almost like an iridescent bubble around my children. Where I, as the guardian of their spirit and livelihood, only allow love, compassion, joy, and warmth to pass through. Just like in The Giver, I control the temperature, I don’t let them get too hot or too cold. My children have never really known what it is like to be HUNGRY, and honestly I hope they never do. Relief from pain? Oh, yes. I don’t think my daughter even felt PAIN until after she turned one year old. I didn’t allow anything to happen to her until she started to walk and fell a few times before I could catch her. Except for shots, which again – are a way to control disease, and therefore pain and suffering.

So, each of us are the gods of our children’s worlds, just as the Elders in Jonas’ society are god-like. And that’s not wrong. In fact, it’s our job. I’m sure the Elders didn’t create their world out of malice. They didn’t want their citizens to suffer. And they had the technology to make it so.

But here’s the ART of parenting: knowing how and when to start pulling back that rainbow-colored illusion and allowing your child to FEEL pain and suffering. Allowing them to KNOW about war and crime and hate and fear that exists in the world.

If you keep the bubble around them too tight, then they won’t be prepared for what lies ahead, and when they do inevitably experience pain and suffering, they’ll fall apart. But if you pull back the illusion too soon, their fragile spirit can break. That is what The Giver in the book found out with his first Receiver.

Every parent is a Giver. We give all of our memories to our children one at a time. Intuitively, we have to know when and how to give them. It’s an exquisitely important job that no one else can do. And it’s the order in which we give our memories that matters most. At first, we channel the joy of our Christmas mornings, conjure the sparkle of love we saw in our own parent’s eyes, convey a feeling of peace with the gentle rocking of the ocean’s summer waves.

And the painful memories? Those moments of loss, grief, and fear? They must be held back. Until the time is right.

Two other stories come to mind. The film “Life is Beautiful,” which, if you haven’t seen it, please stop reading this article (yes, that’s what I said) and go watch it now. I would not want to spoil it for you. I will be here when you get back.

In “Life is Beautiful,” a delightful man uses his humor and imagination to woo his princess and then must use these same talents to protect his son during the nazi occupation of World War II. This father knows that the harsh realities of war will surely break his son’s delicate spirit, and so he pretends that it’s all part of a game they are playing, in order to protect him as best as he possibly can. It is a wonderful, uplifting story, and I tell you I wish I was more like him.

And the other story I cannot even name because it won’t be released until next year, but I will keep you posted because I know it’s going to be a very special book.

And what “Life is Beautiful” tells us is that as parents, it is our responsibility to continue weaving this magic, to keep up this illusion, no matter what. Even if you’re in a great deal of pain yourself. Even if the world is falling apart around you. Even if there was no one there who was strong enough to do it for you.

To all The Givers of the world: I applaud you, and I am in awe of the magic you wield every day.

My favorite books of 2011

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Here are my top 3 reads of those released in 2011. So excited for what’s to come in 2012!

1. Chime by Franny Billingsley, Young Adult Fantasy

Billingsley, Franny: Chime. Dial Books

Chime is set during the Industrial Revolution. Elemental spirits, fairies, witches, boggy ghosts and other monsters haunt the mucky Swampsea.  But as progress with railroads and electricity and motorcars is made, these so-called “Old Ones” are disappearing. The Boggy Mun is making people sick with swamp cough because the swamp is being drained in the name of industry.

Briony believes she is a witch, that she deserves to be hanged, a practice still en vogue in Swampsea. Her self-hatred is undeniable and can even be uncomfortable to read. But everything changes when golden-eyed Eldric with his lion tawny hair steps off a barge from London, and forces Briony to challenge all of the things she believes about herself, past and present. Chime was honored as a National Book Award finalist.

2. The Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor, Young Adult Fantasy

Taylor, Laini: "Daughter of Smoke and Bone" Little, Brown for Young Readers

If you’ll recall, I’ve been insanely excited about Daughter of Smoke and Bone, which was written by Laini Taylor, one of my favorite authors. So after waiting over a year for it to come out, I’ve finally had the opportunity to read it. Did it measure up to my extremely high”out of this world” expectations?

Oh, yes. HELL YES.

This is one of my favorite books EVER. It is quite possibly perfect. Daughter of Smoke and Bone has the magic of Harry Potter, the heart-stopping romance of Twilight, and the blood pumping action of The Hunger Games all rolled into ONE.

But that’s not all. It’s got incredible characters, genius plot, and the most unique (and enchanting!) fantasy world I’ve ever encountered. Not to mention Laini is a writing goddess, perhaps even the Muse incarnate (with pink hair).

Karou is amazing and incredibly likeable. Trust me – after the first chapter, you will want to BE Karou. And you haven’t even met Akiva yet.

Karou’s profile pic on Twitter, art by Jim Di Bartolo (Laini’s ultra talented husband)

Karou is an azure-haired 17 year-old art student living in Prague. But she belongs to a family of monsters who live in a place she only knows as Elsewhere. She runs strange errands for Brimstone, her adopted father of sorts. But she’s lonely. She’s TOO lonely, enough so that she is desperate to find love but falls for the wrong guy (Kazimir, a local who gives vampire tours), and winds up getting hurt.

She feels like a part of her is missing. And she doesn’t know who she is or where she truly belongs. Have you ever felt that way? I know I have. ESPECIALLY when I was a teenager.

And then Akiva sneaks through a slit in the sky, he and Karou meet, and well… as Laini writes, “the result is blood and starlight, secrets revealed, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past.”

And… as was recently revealed on her blog, DSB could one day be coming to a theatre near you. Universal has just snapped up the film rights.

Disclaimer: DSB is part one in a series. I’d say that’s the only down side to this story – the fact that you’ll have to wait a while for the next one to be released – 2012, baby!

3. The Aviary by Kathleen O’Dell, Middle Grade Fantasy

O'Dell, Kathleen: The Aviary, Knopf Books for Young Readers

The Aviary pulled me into its pages and enchanted me with a time-turning spell, convincing me I was twelve years old again. It reminded me so much of The Secret Garden. Twelve year-old Clara Dooley lives in a crumbling old mansion in turn of the century New England. Her mother works for old Mrs. Glendoveer, the wife of the illustrious magician and illusionist George Glendoveer. Clara is confined to the mansion due to a mysterious heart condition. She does not attend school or have any human friends her own age. But everything changes when Mrs. Glendoveer passes on, Clara meets a secret friend, and the birds in the mansion’s aviary start speaking to her. This starts Clara on a path to unravel the decades old mystery of the Glendoveer family. O’Dell skillfully weaves magic and mystery, wonder and cruelty, heartbreak and hope into this historical adventure story.

Tuesday Enchants: The Perils of Ignoring the Muse

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I thought I’d post a few pics so you can see what I’ve been up to in the last month. I’ve had to take a forced blog and manuscript hiatus (much to my muse’s dismay). First I had eye surgery, which was as pleasant as it sounds. Then I was sick. And for the last two weeks, my parents were here back to back.  But it was not all torture – we also celebrated my daughter’s first birthday.

But now, my friends, I’ve reached my limit of Non-Writing. All thanks to that force of creative inspiration that we call the Muse.

Marble Bust Head of Greek Muse Goddess at Vatican Museums, Rome

I spent years trying to coax my muse out of hiding with mint tea, chocolate, and seaweed biscuits. She’d found a trapdoor in my mind and hid there while I was studying science and business, working at a corporate bank and then a law firm. Although I didn’t know where she was, I could hear her lonely singing from time to time. So when my son was born, I strapped on my boots and went looking for her again. She was very hard to find. Almost impossible. The place where she used to live was dusty and deserted. So I trudged through swamp and boot sucking mud. I climbed over mountains in waist-deep snow. I had no map, she carries no cell phone, doesn’t even have an email account. (Can you imagine?) The only thing I had was my intuition, a fragile pink flame contained in a rusty old lantern.

But this was the light that finally led me to her.

I found her deep in a forbidden forest in a nest of her own making, forged of black branches and feathers and dead leaves. She refused to come out, wouldn’t even speak to me. Can you blame her? But I visited every day, bearing a new gift, hoping she’d come around. After several months she finally emerged, and I was able to look at her for the first time in a forever. She had wavy hair of blue fire and dark moon eyes. She was bruised and scratched and much too thin. She desperately needed a bath. I was ashamed that I’d abandoned her all of those years ago. I asked if I could visit her again, and she finally agreed.  At first she couldn’t speak, as her voice had been lost when I stole it away. But soon she began to whisper, a raspy sound that I almost mistook for the wind. I listened ever so carefully and began to write down what she had to tell me. After years of doing this every day, we became like the old friends that we were. We’d chatter away for hours, and she’d give me gifts in my dreams that I’d find like sparkling jewels when I awoke. Since then she’s given me two novels, all of the rambling on this blog, several short stories, and countless other ideas, including the lovely one that is now my third novel in progress. My favorite idea ever. She is the one I have to thank.

But then, last month, I did the unthinkable. I chained her up again. I forced her back into her cell, and wouldn’t speak to her. I bound her willowy arms, her silver wings, her red-clawed feet. I had to, doesn’t she understand? I had eye surgery! I was sick! My parents were here! You’d think she’d understand, right?

No.

No she did not.

And now she’s out. She broke free. And she’s pissed like I’ve never seen her.

It’s not that she went back into hiding. It’s that she’s back with a vengeance. And she’s wreaking havoc on my once-balanced life.

Words are beginning to bubble over the black kettle in my linguistic cortex. They’re boiling over, spilling out into other areas of my brain, like those that control basic functions, and disrupting things like breathing. Words are clawing at my lungs, scratching my throat, and oozing out my ears. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was talking in my sleep. My husband’s been gone on business for the last week, and I’m sure it’s no coincidence. He knows what happens to me when I’m not writing.

I become incredibly restless. I talk to myself nonstop. Wait. I do that anyway. I itch until I bleed. I cry silently in the bathroom. I pace up and down the stairwell. Immense pressure builds up in my brain, and if I don’t let it out little by little by writing a few hours a day, it threatens to explode. When that happens, and I finally hit my breaking point of Non-Writing, I go on a frenzied crusade of writing all day and all night, forgoing food and sleep and basic hygiene. And I emerge looking quite a bit like Bellatrix LeStrange when she came out of Azkaban, all wild eyes and bruised fingertips and electric arachnid hair.

Warner Brothers: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Perhaps a bit like my muse when I found her again. So this is her revenge.

*Insert deranged, maniacal laughter.*

I’m sure you think I’m crazy. I am. It’s so hard to be held back from something I’m so passionate about. But I suppose this is the very definition of a passion. To feel so much intensity about something you can hardly contain it. Something so completely outside of your control there is nothing you can do but accept it, bow down to it, and kiss it’s beautiful toes.

But the period of Non-Writing was not all bad. The fabulous ladies’ group in my neighborhood had a Witches’ Hat Party, hosted by the lovely Stephanie. I was fortunate enough to get to read tarot cards at the gathering. You’re shocked to learn that I read cards I’m sure. It was a wonderful night of haunts, brew, and the fates revealed.

Next, it was the neighborhood Halloween party. Yes, I do realize that everyone you know, probably even your dog, went as The Black Swan this year. But I don’t care. I had too much fun with the transformation to care. Way too much fun, as you can see.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

Now that feels so much better. The pressure has eased up quite a bit now.

I thank your eyeballs for their time.

Tuesday Enchants at the library

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I get a tingle of excitement every time I walk into a library. With my canvas bag slung over my shoulder, it’s like embarking on a treasure hunt. But instead of looking for diamonds, rubies, and gold, I search for amusement, inspiration, and truth.

When I walk into a library, this is what I see:

New things to be discovered around every corner.

But as I’ve mentioned in the past, sometimes libraries and bookstores can get me into trouble.

This is the door to the library that I want in my house.

It looks like little gnomes or hobbits live in this library, and they are NOT very tidy.

Ooooh – check out this incredible library at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland! This is on my wish list of must-visit libraries.

Happy Tuesday!

Fab Book Friday – The Night Circus

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Before I get into the review of The Night Circus, there’s one thing I need to address. There’s been a lot of buzz about this book, and it’s been compared to Harry Potter by a number of sources, in particular an article in the Wall Street Journal.

Here’s what you need to know, going in: this is nothing like Harry Potter. The only thing this book has in common with HP is that there’s magic in it, and it’s going to be made into a movie. That’s it!

“A dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” -Oscar Wilde

The Night Circus is… fanciful. Black and white striped literary elegance. It is not the kind of book you race through because you just HAVE to know what is happening, and if you don’t find out what is going to happen RIGHT NOW you think you’re going to die. NO. It’s the kind of book that you want to sip like a full-bodied Cabernet, savor it, drinking in every little detail.

The Night Circus is also NOT a children’s book. Surprise, surprise! It is meant for adults, though there are children in it. That doesn’t mean there is lots of blood and gore and sex. Nope. It’s the pace of this novel that makes it for adult readers. If you are used to reading YA where the story moves along at a fairly fast clip – adjust your expectations for The Night Circus.

Morgenstern tells the story of two magicians who are bound to each other, forced into a mysterious, elaborate competition they’ve been preparing for since they were very young. But here’s the problem: they’re falling in love. Their stage is “Le Cirque des Reves” (The Circus of Dreams), which appears unannounced at various destinations around the world, opening at nightfall and closing at dawn. Within the surreal and hypnotic tents of the circus, you will find a tatooed contortionist, acrobats, red-headed twins, a Tarot reader, an Illusionist, and artists of fire – just to name a few.

The circus is like a never ending Wonderland, complete with an eternally burning bonfire, an Ice Garden, a Pool of Tears, and a Labyrinth of clouds, among many others.

Morgenstern’s style and structure of the novel is phantasmagorical, which serves the story well. She played and experimented with it, and some have compared the time sequencing to “The Time Traveler’s Wife.” She jumps back and forth through time, and the chapters are short vignettes from various points of view characters within the story.

This is not a heart-pounding thriller. The story sneaks up on you. And now that I’ve finished the book, I miss it, like when you wake up from a wonderful dream that you believed was real, and you’re disappointed when you realize it wasn’t. Because reality seems somewhat bitter in comparison.

Last weekend it was cooler here in NC, and without thinking, I bundled up in a black trench coat and a bright red silk scarf. When I caught a glimpse of my reflection, I realized what I’d done. I looked just like a reveur from the book. I’d become a follower of Le Cirque des Reves without even realizing it. I AM a dreamer, there is no doubt, and I enjoyed every bit of this unique and enchanting tale.

Fab Book Friday… (I have a secret).

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I have a secret.

I am sneaking away for the weekend.

Tomorrow I am going to stay in a little bed and breakfast a few towns over, for rest, relaxation, peace, and quiet. And I’m going ALL BY MYSELF.

You see, I haven’t been all by myself in quite some time. I haven’t been alone since… hm. Can’t remember the last time. Certainly before my daughter was born.

And I have lots of writing to do.

I don’t blog much about my writing process, but I will share a tiny glimpse of it with you now.

Every day, I go back and forth between two very different and very distinct worlds.  There is the world in my head that seems SO real, the one that I try to capture on the page ever so painstakingly… and THE REAL WORLD. Well, they are both real to me, but you know – the one that’s not just in my head. The world we all share together.

Finding this balance between two worlds has been a major challenge this past year. For some reason, before my daugther was born, THE BEST STORY IDEA I’VE EVER HAD flew down to me, tiny and delicate, with blue and silver wings. It whispered in a different language, but I understood it, and it was so beautiful I knew I had to write it, even though it was so HUGE and important that I didn’t know if I had the skills as a writer to do it any justice.

Since then, I have been working on it day and night. I have journals stashed all over the house: next to the bed, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, and in the car. I leave myself voice memos, emails, and notes all day long. When I finally have a few moments to myself (like right now), I spend as much of it as I can on the computer, hashing it out.

So there’s THAT – a fantasy world that I’ve created – and the real world, where I spend my time raising two children who I love and adore, not wanting to miss a minute of their childhood. At this point, my life is a chaotic whirlwind of cooking, laundry, dishes, shopping, getting to the bus stop on time, homework, bathtime, bedtime, spending time with my friends, and going out with my husband (which is NOT very often).

Have you ever felt that way? That you’re (to borrow a term from Harry Potter) splinched between two worlds?

It’s a lot to balance. And for me, the thing that I need most when I am writing is: 1) PEACE , 2A) QUIET, or 2B) REALLY LOUD HEAVY METAL MUSIC.

But in my house? Right now? Not a lot of peace and quiet and/or loud heavy metal.  Boo.

But what do we have here?

Say hello to THE NEST.

I will be spending 24 hours alone there. I will get to walk through its magical doorway and step into my OTHER world for a while, where I will walk around, take in the sights, smell the flowers and spices they grow there, listen to their languages, and look my characters in the eyes to truly know who they are. And then I’ll be watching them very carefully and writing down everything that they say and everything that they do. And I’ll be bringing my IPod in case the need for VERY LOUD Space Rock/British Emo/Death Metal should occur (which it so often does).

I will do all of this so that someday, perhaps – I will be able to share this other world with you.

And I’m hoping to finish and review The Night Circus while I’m there! So stay tuned!

Tuesday Enchants – Book LOOT

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Whoa. I cannot believe how long it’s been since I’ve posted a book on this blog. I know – this is supposed to be a book blog, and it’s been so… unbookbloggish.

But I have a good excuse, I really do. First of all, my blog came very close to dying a painful death. That’s right, an almost-fatal error occurred, and it has taken me about two months to nurse this blog back to health. It came of nowhere, and I still have no idea why it happened, but I’ve been getting to know the folks at my hosting service, GoDaddy.com, VERY well. They rock. I’ve also been learning a lot more than I ever wanted to about WordPress: backups, updates, and plugins.

And then there’s also that little four letter word that is such a wildcard…BABY. As sweet and cute and cuddly as she is, she throws all kinds of wrenches, toys, and fevers into my plans.

BUT.

Since it’s been a while, I have lots of books coming down the pike to post about!

So! Onto the books!

Hm. What do we have here?

These are the new books I’ve acquired in the last 2 months or so. Most of them were given to me by book fairies! The books fairies are good to me, don’t you think?

And did you see all of the bookmarks? Most of the books have bookmarks in them, because I am READING THEM ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

I couldn’t decide which one I wanted to read first, so I’ve read a little bit of them all.

But – I’ve decided to finish The Night Circus. And TODAY is the release date for it! So you can go out and get a copy if you are just dying to read it. I’ve had it for a while. I know. I’ve been holding out on you! I’m loving it, and I’m hoping to have the review for you by this Friday.

And no, you are not imagining it – I also have Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor, which doesn’t release until September 27th. What can I say? I have wonderful book fairy friends who get cool books for me before they’re out in stores.

What should I read next after Night Circus? Suggestions?

Tuesday Enchants “A Fanciful Twist”

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I’ve discovered this gorgeous little blog, website, and shop called “A Fanciful Twist.”

Vanessa is an incredible artist, photographer, storyteller, and more. You just HAVE to go see her sites. They are filled with all kinds of pretty:

And strange.

She takes the most enchanting photographs. Don’t you just want to dive right in and live there? I know I do.

After I visit her site, my head is always full of magic and dreams and wonder. Like drinking a Fanciful Tonic that opens the doors of possibilities in my mind.

*Sigh* If I was 17 again, or 24, or 32… I’d want to be her Fanciful Apprentice.

And look! My extraordinary friend Jamy got me some “Fanciful” of my very own for my birthday! I have yet to put them up, but they will be somewhere in my writing room where I can see them from the computer.

Oh! Did I mention this? A Fanciful Twist has a shop on Etsy.

Hope you had a fanciful Tuesday!

Tuesday Enchants in Vermont

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I’m in Vermont visiting my family, and we were out shopping today. Our first stop was Bridgeside Books. What else?

Of course I couldn’t help going into the bookstore. Of course I couldn’t resist buying a few new books, even though I know I could get them cheaper on Amazon. That’s the super cool thing about Independent bookstores. The owner is a like a museum curator, carefully selecting each book and keeping only the best ones in stock for your reading pleasure. This quaint little shop with the wildflowers in front and a sweet grey kitty who softly brushed against my skirt while I browsed made me remember why I’m happy to support Indies, even if it means spending a couple bucks more than on Amazon.

Our next stop was a peculiar little antique shop:

There was so much stuff, I’m surprised I found my way out.

But cool stuff. Gold-framed french art, tarnished silver platters, cracked porcelain baby dolls, yellowed lacy knickers and lots of really, really old books.

Did you see it?

If you look closely at that last photograph, you’ll see a book called “The Enchanted Book.” You’d better believe I got that one! It’s full of old fairytales. What a find for Tuesday Enchants!

So after the first few shops, all I’d bought were books. But good ones! I’m hoping to share more of what I got on the blog, promise.

But look where we stopped next. No books here:

But they did have some INCREDIBLE focaccia bread, ginger cookies, croissants and strawberry rhubarb pies!

The gorgeous view on the ride home in Stowe:

More later – Happy Tuesday!