During a conversation with my husband, I was complaining about how I can’t figure out what to write on this blog. And in his usual way, he cut right to the point and said, “Why don’t you write about books?”
Um yeah, that would be obvious right? But I’m not going willy-nilly into this and just write about any old books, no sirree bub. I’m going to talk about the books that I LOVE. First up, this lovely gorgeous thing.
This book was actually my grandmother’s. When I was a kid and my family would make a summertime trip to grandma’s house and stay for several weeks. This was one of the books I always looked forward to pulling off of her shelves to read. I’d cuddle down in the reading/library area, grab this off the shelf and read it several times over. In later years, when I was a teenager, she rearranged things and I once found it under what can only be described as a sex manual. For same-sex couples.
Yeah, finding one of your favorite books in your grandmother’s house under THAT book? Let’s just say it was hard to look at Grandma for a while after that….
When Grandma passed away, I rescued it from my parent’s massive book-giveaway and have carted it across the country with me. The cover is ripping apart (NOOO!) and strangely enough, despite the many times I’ve opened this up to read, I never once noticed that it was edited by Jackie O until I stopped to take the picture. My eyes always travel to that amazing picture of the Firebird and completely ignore the text beneath it.
It only has four stories in it: The Firebird, Maria Morevna, The Snow Maiden, and Vassilissa the Fair. I always loved the Firebird, but Vassilissa the Fair was a close second. There are fantastic title pages for each story and the illustrations are amazing; they’re probably half the reason I love this book so much.
It’s a cold fall day here and which means it’s the perfect time for me to sit in a chair, drink some tea and reread this book for 1000th+ time. Which is precisely what I’m going to do. 🙂
And it really isn’t just one of those holiday games. I frustratingly realized a pattern with my choices in names in my latest project so I’ve been trying to come up with new names while breaking the habit and getting a name that feels right to the character. And I have to avoid alliteration. Apparently my mind is terribly in love with M’s and V’s right now, because all the names are peppered with them. Somehow my brain can’t register that there are indeed 26 letters in the alphabet to choose from and gets very much stuck with those two. I haven’t done anything with apostrophes though; I’m always reluctant to start using them because I’ve seen them done TERRIBLY before and I’m always afraid that I’m going to fall into that same trap. So I’m trying out different names, combinations, misspellings and most of all, new letters.
Thank goodness for find and replace right? LIFESAVER.
Summer is over, it’s a gray day here and as I type, I’m watching a cat snooze on the cat tower, her body all curled up with one of her back legs extended onto the windowsill. She’s a bit big for the space; some of her bulge hangs off the edge and of course, there’s the extended leg, with her tail curled neatly under it. There’s something just wonderfully comforting to see this mass of fluffiness snoozing, her bulk rising and falling with each breath. Sometimes she even wheezes. It’s completely adorable. And such a damn distraction. She is obviously not plagued by worries and self-doubt and anxiety about word choice. Lucky thing.
(Lest you say, um, girl, you’re talking about a cat, they have no words…. Well. Let me assure you that yes indeed, this cat has words. She is the most verbose of all our creatures and has a full range of inflections and squeaks and meows that she makes to communicate. The cat, she has sass.)
…than a cat getting a bath? MahHubs and I just gave The Chunky Bear-Cat (also, our first-adopted, raised from kittenhood cat) a much needed rinse and soak. She is now sitting by my desk, back leg straight in the air as she tries to respit-herself.
I don’t know if we didn’t do a good enough job of cleaning her, or if she feels like she needs more cleaning.