#AtoZChallenge: Oriental -- #bookreview of Tales of Japan

Tales of Japan: Traditional Stories of Monsters and Magic by Chronicle Books
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The stories in Tales of Japan: Traditional Stories of Monsters and Magic were sourced from two 20th-century texts: Kwaidan by Lafcadio Hearn and Japanese Fairy Tales by Yei Theodora Ozaki (both in public domain), with each story accompanied by beautiful illustrations by Kotaro Chiba. Just the cover itself is fantastic!

It's no secret that I love fairytales and folktales, especially those of Asian/East Asian origin. These fit right in with the stuff I'm looking for--my only gripe is that the translator(s) sometimes sound a little too apologetic about their use of Japanese terms which aren't directly translatable. Honestly, I don't mind. That's the charm of reading stories from other cultures, isn't it? There's also the occasional stiltedness of language, but overall, these traditional Japanese stories are highly enjoyable, written in that timeless fairy tale style.

Journeys
The Dream of Akinosuke: I'm not sure if there's an English fairy tale equivalent for this. When Akinosuke takes a break under a tree he is caught up in an elaborate dream where he is swept off at the behest of the Tokoyo no Kokuo (the ruler of an unknown country; or the King of Fairyland). Is it all a dream or is it a true fairy encounter?
The Jelly Fish and the Monkey: An origin story of the jellyfish, in the vein of Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories. Also a fascinating first look at the mythology surrounding Ryn Jin, the Dragon King of the Sea.
Momotaro, or the Story of the Son of a Peach: In this Thumbelina/Tom Thumb-esque story, a childless couple cut open a giant peach to find a little child. Years later, Momotaro leaves his adopted parents to save a northeastern Japanese island from a band of devils. This gains some Bremen Town Musicians undertones with various animals joining him to help him in his quest.
The Happy Hunter and the Skillful Fisher: A lost fishing hook sends Hohodemi, the Happy Hunter, to Ryn Jin's realm. Ultimately a good brother vs bad brother story, where the older brother uses the excuse of the lost fishing hook to send Hohodemi away so he can usurp the throne. It's never explained why the younger brother is the Mikoto though and not the older? Also likely an origin story of why Hohodemi is said to control the tides.
The Bamboo-Cutter and the Moon-Child: This reminds me of Chinese tales of women (and bunnies) on the moon. No bunnies here, though. Also an amusing look at males who are so enamoured of a woman's beauty they say they would do anything to marry her... but then lie and cheat their way with the minimum of effort.

Ghosts and Monsters
The Story of Mimi-Nashi-Hoichi: This takes a dark turn, where a blind lute-priest is seen entertaining spirits.
Yuki-Onna: This story feels vaguely familiar--I probably came across it while writing When Winds Blow Cold--but it also follows the vein of traditional Chinese myths with mysterious (usually not so benign) female spirits/creatures who choose to stay with/marry a human man. The enchantment breaks and the spirit leaves when the man breaks their vow of secrecy.
Diplomacy: How do you make sure a vengeful ghost doesn't haunt you? Apparently by distracting them.
Mujina: Creepy faceless people story. I... dunno.
A Dead Secret: Still on the theme of ghosts, this dead woman won't leave until her secret is destroyed.
Rokuro-Kubi: Samurai-priests and headless goblins! It should be slightly macabre, but it's also quite hilarious.

Justice
The Tongue-Cut Sparrow: This follows the classic good hapless man, evil shrew wife. A good man gets rewarded by fairies, the evil wife tries to get more but meets her just rewards. I suppose there are similar themes no matter where you come from.
The Farmer and the Badger: An Aesop-like story, where the wicked badger tricks the farmer but then his neighbour the kind rabbit helps the farmer take revenge.
The Story of the Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Flower: Childless couple takes care of beloved dog Shiro, who is magical and brings them good fortune! The evil neighbour who hates dogs tries to get Shiro to also bless him, but whatever he does turns to bad instead.
The Mirror of Matsuyama: Evil stepmother story. I said last week that evil stepmothers don't seem as prevalent outside Eurocentric stories, but here's one from Japan. Actually, the beginning as quite Beauty and the Beast; I was expecting the girl to be exchanged for something, but no. LOL.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from Chronicle Books via Edelweiss. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

View all my reviews

#AtoZChallenge: Narcissus

I remember him as a child, with large brown eyes that stared up at you doe-like and innocent. Soft, dark curls framed his face; his mother let it grow long, down to his shoulders, because she couldn’t bear to cut it short, couldn’t bear to mar his beauty. His mouth was a little rosebud, sometimes stretched in a mischievous grin, but most often pursed in thought or astonishment.

He was a beautiful boy, is a beautiful man, the years kinder to him than they have been to me. With the loss of his baby fat, his face is sharp, almost haunting, his deep-set eyes shadowed, hooded. They still glint with mischief. He’d always been brown and ruddy, but his skin now is a fine tan, a rich, smooth chocolate like the Cadbury bars he’d often pester his mother for as a child of six. He doesn’t eat milk chocolate anymore, preferring the bitterness of 60% cocoa that mirrors the darkness of life.
 
He brings me daffodils, white and gold narcissus, as I used to call him.

“You, my boy, are full of yourself,” I say as I put them in a vase.

He smiles.

“Have you found anyone to love yet?”

“No. Should I?” A dark eyebrow quirks upwards. His voice, broken and weighed down by years and puberty, is dulcet and low.

“Has anyone loved you then?”

He shrugs. “Everyone loves me.”

“Men or women?”

“Both. Everyone. Neanderthals, all of them.”

“You’ll die alone then, just as I will.”

My Narcissus laughs. “You? Alone? No, I’ll be here with you as I once promised.”

“You flatter an old man.”

“The man who taught me to be who I am.”

“A fact I regret every single day. Your mother turns in her grave.”

“Let her.”

It’s a flippancy I cannot let lie. “She was still your mother.”

“I’ve always been more your son than hers.”

That I cannot deny so I don’t respond.

“You’d bring her roses and I’d be jealous,” he says abruptly, turning away to look out the window.

There isn’t much to see out there. The home I’m in keeps the grass short but doesn’t bother with flowerbeds. Apparently, men—as most of us here are—aren’t supposed to want, need, or like flowers. I’ve always been a flower man. I miss them, and the secrets they hold.

“She was my wife,” I say. “I had to show my love and devotion.” True and false.

“You never bought me roses.”

“Our love wasn’t romantic. It would have been a travesty.” She wouldn’t have forgiven me, and who buys roses for a teenage boy anyway?

“It hurt.”

“But you were my Narcissus. And I bought you your name flower every occasion I could.”

He turns back to me, leaning backwards, hands gripping the window sill. “I deserved more.”

“I gave you everything I could.”

“Because you are full of yourself too, aren’t you?”

Too mocking, too bitter. This world is too dark when self-love becomes a twisted dagger. I shrug because what he says is true, because I have no answer for him, the child of my loins that is too like me to truly love me, to truly love anyone other than himself.

“Narcissus always dies alone,” he says.

The daffodils on my mantelpiece fade with time and grow brown and dry with age. I don’t throw them away even when their scent fades. In my dreams, Narcissus comes to me with hard, burning eyes and soft, dark curls, his mouth a pink rosebud sneer. In his right hand, he holds the narcissus, with his left he offers me petunias.

I never see him again.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• narcissus, from Barbara Harrison
• Nostalgia, from Lena
• Nuance/nostalgia/Neanderthals, from Cherie Osier
• numbat, from Sharna Steinert
• nocturnal, nefarious, from Donna Smith

Mostly narcissus, a little bit of nostalgia and a mention of Neanderthals. Make of it what you will. 

This year's A to Z is flash fiction based on words provided by the community... which is you! Explanatory stuff HERE, Google sheet link HERE.

As of this post, I have 5,473 words of 10,000 for Camp Nanowrimo, and it's just past the middle of the month. Pretty on track, I'd say. :)

#AtoZChallenge: The Mystery of the Missing Moonstone

It was a maelstrom in the manor. Someone, obviously with a magpie’s eye for shiny things, had stolen the Moonstone. Stolen, the Marquis was certain. It hadn’t just been dropped behind the dressing table or been left in the extra handbag or something stupid like that.

You see, when not worn, the Moonstone was displayed on a velvet pillow in a bulletproof glass case that was secured to a shelf that was chained to the wall in a maximum security vault which was guarded 24/7. Except, the guard had been found unconscious with a lump on his head and the glass had been shattered and the gem was missing. Now everyone in Maelstrom Manor was running around like headless chickens and screaming bloody murder, contributing to the general mayhem.

Marco, the Marquis of Maelstrom, accused his wife’s mischievous nephew, Matthew, who was visiting for the summer. Marigold sat in the corner crying and protesting that her nephew was a good boy, he was, and would never do such a thing. How would he even knock out the guard when he was such a small, gentle thing?

Mary the Cook shook her head. Matthew was at least six foot tall, a giant of a youth though he was only fifteen. And he was mischievous enough to think of such a trick. She was quite sure it wasn’t him, though, because Matthew had spent the whole day in her kitchens getting underfoot, sticking fingers in her pies, and eating up her freshly made macarons.

So who had done the dastardly deed? Who had taken the missing Moonstone? The hapless guard, once treated for his misfortune, was grilled by both the Marquis and his wife, but couldn’t give any clues as to the perpetrator. He had heard the cawing of a magpie and had gone to see if some poor bird had gotten stuck in the bars of the window. The minute he’d opened the door to the vault, someone had bashed him over the head.

Three days later, the mood at Maelstrom Manor was still poor. Marco stormed about the manor in a bad mood whilst Marigold stayed in bed with hysterics. Mary cooked more and more food because the only way she knew how to calm people down was to give them something to eat. Only Matthew acted more or less normally, eating everything he could beg from Mary and wandering all throughout the manor.

“Look what I found,” Matthew said late that evening, emerging from his explorations covered with dust. Mary could even see some twigs sticking out of his hair.

Mary stared at the gem in his hand. “Where did you get that? That’s the Moonstone your uncle and aunt have been tearing the manor apart for!”

“At the top of the tower, there’s this magpie’s nest. It’s great—it has everything! I even found this beautiful hat with a feather!” With that, Matthew pulled on a wide-brimmed hat that had a huge peacock feather stuck in its band.

“Well, that’s certainly macaroni,” Mary said, “but you’d better give the Moonstone back to your uncle before his mood gets worse.”

The Marquis was delighted to get the Moonstone back, Marigold recovered quickly, and Matthew was recognisable all around the manor and about town for his hat. But still, no one knows the mystery of who had taken the missing Moonstone and how it had appeared in the nest at the top of the tower.

No one, that is, except the Magpie of Maelstrom Manor.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• marigold, from Barbara Harrison
• Moonstone, from Andrea Stoeckel
• mayhem/murder/mischievous/misunderstand, from Cherie Osier
• magpie, from Sharna Steinert
• maelstrom, macaroni, from Donna Smith

aaaaaannnnd I hit everything except misunderstand, although I cheated with some. :p
But, obscure bit of trivia about macaroni, as I'm using it (in the yankee doodle sense). 

This year's A to Z is flash fiction based on words provided by the community... which is you! Explanatory stuff HERE, Google sheet link HERE.

#AtoZChallenge: Larry the Lugubrious Leviathan

On that day the Lord will punish 
With his cruel sword, his mighty and powerful sword,
Leviathan that twisting sea-serpent,
That writhing serpent Leviathan,
And slay the monster of the deep.
Isaiah 27:1 (The New English Bible, 1970, Oxford/Cambridge)

~

It was said in times past that the Leviathan was the monster that haunted the depths of the sea. He was reputed to be a great sea-serpent with thick, shining coils that wrapped around hapless ships, dragging innocent men to their watery graves. Not that sailors were particularly innocent or even always male.

Larry the Sea-Serpent hated that description. It often made him lugubrious at odd times of the day when he remembered it.

“But why do they hate me so?” he grumbled to his friend, Lorna the Whale. She too had been called the Leviathan many a time, especially when Melville’s book Moby-Dick was popular. Nobody read Moby-Dick now, so she was spared the pain.

“Oh, they don’t hate you, Larry,” Lorna said. “They just hate what you represent.”

“I don’t represent anything,” he said grumpily. “I am a sea-serpent. I eat… what do I eat? Seaweed. That’s right. Seaweed.”

Leny the Kraken snorted. “Seaweed? You? I’ve never seen anything greenish brown pass those lips of yours, you liar.” Leny too had once been associated with the Leviathan, though he found it more ludicrous than anything.

“No no no, but they always say specifically like sea-serpent, as if I were the one solely responsible for all the wreckage at sea. No! Do you know how many dangerous creatures lurk in the ocean? Like you, Lorna! And you, Leny! And the Octopuses, and Sharks. But nooooooo it’s always sea-serpents. As if we’re the only things that wreck ships and eat people!”

“Weeeellllll, I don’t eat people,” Lorna said. “They can’t fit in my mouth.”

“And I don’t go up to the surface. At all,” Leny said. “So you’re the only one they see.”

“But what about storms! Storms wreck ships more than I do!” Larry wailed.

Lorna cleared her throat. “And who’s always attracted by storms? Who goes to watch humans drown in the storm?”

Larry looked hurt. “It’s entertaining. You can’t fault me.”

“You’re not doing yourself any favours here, Larry,” Leny said. “If you’ll just stop going ship-wreck watching, maybe they’ll stop thinking of you as the Leviathan?”

The sea-serpent’s face twisted downwards, making him look more lugubrious than his friends had ever seen.

“Oh come on, Larry. Not watching humans die isn’t the end of the world,” Lorna tried to cheer him up.

“I suppose,” he replied.

No matter what was said in times past, there are still monsters that haunt the deep places of the ocean. Just don’t tell Larry that you think they’re all him.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• lagniappe, from Barbara Harrison
• Lavender / Lilac, from Andrea Stoeckel
• ludicrous/luxury/loiter, from Cherie Osier
• lyrebird, from Sharna Steinert
• lugubrious, leviathan, lame, from Donna Smith  

Well. Leviathan was fun. :) Also with lugubrious and a mention of ludicrous.

This year's A to Z is flash fiction based on words provided by the community... which is you! Explanatory stuff HERE, Google sheet link HERE.

My word target is 500 words per flash fiction piece, which I'm failing miserably at. At any rate, I'm now at 4.3K for Camp NaNoWriMo so some of the later pieces will have to be longer to make up my target of 10K for the month.

NOTE! I'm going to be pre-writing a bunch of posts tomorrow as I'll be away for Eastercon next weekend. If you have words to add, now's a good time to get them in. =)

#AtoZChallenge: Kids in the Kitchen

The kids in the kitchen was a kind of koinonia in itself. About twenty kids had come over for Caitlyn’s birthday, and whilst most of the other kids from school had gone home, these four, her best friends from Sunday School, had stayed behind. The five children, two boys and three girls, sat around the kitchen table, chatting about the most inane things ever.

Karla, Caitlyn’s mother, sat at the head of the table, prepping kale for lunch, even though half the kids scrunched up their noses at it.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Caitlyn said glumly, “I do.”

“What do you suppose kangaroos taste like, Cait?” one of the boys, Timmy, asked.

“Why would you want to eat a kangaroo?” Tiffany put on her best shocked face.

Timmy was Tiffany’s younger brother, so he knew that her expression was fake. He guessed she also wanted to know what a kangaroo tasted like, though as a proper young lady at eight, she couldn’t admit to it.

Timmy’s best friend and partner in crime, Mark, looked thoughtful. “Chewy, actually,” he said.

All five pairs of eyes, including Karla’s, stared at Mark.

“You’ve eaten kangaroo?” Caitlyn pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How could you?”

“We were in Australia! The restaurant said it was a delicacy! I didn’t hunt it down. At least I didn’t eat koala,” Mark defended himself.

“WHO ATE KOALA?! HOW COULD YOU?” Caitlyn pressed the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.

Everyone else looked at Mandy, Mark’s sister, who hadn’t yet said anything.

“I did not!” she said, though her cheeks flushed.

“You diiiiiddddd, oh you did Mandy. How could you eat a cuddly koala?” Tiffany looked disappointed at her friend.

“Well, actually you can buy tinned koala meat from Amazon,” Karla piped up from her chopping, trying to take the pressure off Mandy who was looking very distressed.

“What, mom, no! Don’t you dare! I’m already eating your kale!” Caitlyn said.

Karla shook her head. “Don’t be so dramatic, Cait. I didn’t say I was going to buy it. I just said that you could. Actually, kale and koala sounds like a very interesting combination. I should try it one day.”

“No way!” Timmy said, looking at Mark, who had the same mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Do not do what I think you’re going to do, Timmy,” Tiffany warned, at the same time Mandy went, “No, Mark, no.”

The sound of a car engine outside the door halted the conversation. Caitlyn went to the door to see who it was.

“Mark! Mandy! Your parents are here!”

The siblings thanked Karla for a great party and wished Caitlyn “Happy Birthday” again as they put on their shoes.

Tiffany, Timmy and Caitlyn sat back at the table.

“Do you think Mandy really at koala?” Tiffany asked after a while.

“Probably not,” Karla replied. “She doesn’t even like beef—I don’t think she’d eat any strange-sounding meat.”

---

Today's suggestions were:

• kale, from Barbara Harrison
• kelpies, from anonymous, which was probably me, because I remember throwing in a few randoms as a starter
• Koinonia, from Cherie Osier
• kangaroo/koala, from Sharna Steinert
• Kaleidoscope, kids, kitchen, from Donna Smith

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS. And also hit most of the words in some way or another. No kelpies, though. I... don't think you can eat them. 

On a random aside, you can eat kangaroo, but koalas are on the endangered species list, so you can't have them. What cute Australian animals can you eat, then? (Not that many, actually.)

BUT ALSO ALSO ALSO. Funnily enough, you can get Canned Koala Meat.

I love the Internet.

---

Not-so-regularly scheduled end matter:
This year's A to Z is flash fiction based on words provided by the community... which is you! Explanatory stuff HERE, Google sheet link HERE.

#AtoZChallenge: Jalapeño Jam

If there was one thing that Jo couldn’t get enough of, it was spicy foods. She loved chillies and peppers in all forms, whether fresh or pickled, ground or sliced, or cooked in various dishes. She lived for the burn on her tongue, the way the heat trickled down her throat and then down into her belly and up her nose at the same time.

Biting into fresh chillies hidden in her pasta was a thrill she chased; she always added freshly chopped cili padi in her marinara sauce when making pasta. None of her housemates ever dared steal her pasta again after the first time they’d been surprised by that bombshell.

So when Jack wanted to surprise Jo for her birthday (and maybe get her to say yes to a date), he bought her a platter of jalapeños. There were green ones and red ones, mild ones and hot ones. Some were plain, others smoked or deep fried. There were some stuffed with cheese, or wrapped with bacon, some both stuffed with cheese AND wrapped with bacon! Jo loved them all!

Jo was especially fascinated by the little jar of jalapeño jelly. She stuck a finger into the wobbly mess and licked it. It was wonderfully spicy and sweet.

“Why, it’s like spicy jam! I could put spread it on bread and make a sandwich,” she mused.

“Sure, why not?” Jack said. “But wouldn’t it taste better on crackers?

Jo thought about that. “I don’t see why not. Let’s give it a try.”

Rummaging through her shelves, Jo found an unopened pack of crackers. Jack looked in the bread box and found half a loaf of white bread.

“Okay,” Jo said, “let’s do it.”

After having a jalapeño jam sandwich and several crackers topped with jalapeño jelly, Jo concluded that it tasted much better on crackers. Jack just sat there, his face burning red, sweating profusely as he gulped down glass after glass of water.

“Oh dear, I hope you’re okay,” Jo said, feeling a little guilty. She’d lost many an eating kaki for this very same reason—most people couldn't take as much spice levels as she could.

Jack cleared his throat and gave her a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

“This should help!” Jo made him a nice mug of hot chocolate with plenty of milk to soothe his throat and mouth—and stomach.

That day, Jack went home feeling like he’d lost a battle but won the war. He’d totally embarrassed himself by his lack of ability to eat spicy food, but Jo had agreed to a date. Now all he had to do was find a place that served really spicy food for her and really not-spicy food for him.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• Jalapeño, from Jonathan Pizarro
• justify/judas/join, from Cherie Osier
• joey, from Sharna Steinert
• javelin, jam, jeopardy, jaguar, from Donna Smith

Fairly obvious why I went with the spice :p (London, you need more chilli). 

At any rate, if you want to suggest more prompts or just want to look (and laugh) at the words I'm going to be working with, you can check out this link: Give me more words!

My word target is 500 words per flash fiction piece, which I'm failing miserably at. The past few have been averaging 200-ish words, though this one made it over 400!

This puts me at about 3.3K for Camp NaNoWriMo so some of the later pieces will have to be longer to make up my target of 10K for the month. Unless maybe I count my book reviews as well.................. 

We'll see.  

#AtoZChallenge: the Immortality Wars #bookreviews

The thing about having a review blog is that sometimes people actually do write in and ask or reviews! A. Keith Carreiro sent me (by snail mail! lol!) the first two books of his The Penitent Trilogy, which is the beginning of, he said, a planned 9 books called The Immortality Wars.

I was hoping to put up the reviews in March, but things came up. Anyway, I for Immortality, so it fits right in with today's A to Z Challenge! :)

The Penitent: Part I by A. Keith Carreiro

The Penitent: Part I traces Pall Warren's story in the aftermath of a devastating battle. He meets the mysterious John Savage, gets caught up in the pillage of the farm they're sheltering in, and faces the strange otherworldly creature, Unger.

Carreiro jumps back and forth in time through a series of flashbacks within each chapter, often Warren's memories or reflections on the past. At times, this feels a little clunky and disorienting--then again, I very much prefer streamlined stories that stay mostly in a singular time period. (I blame the speed-reading; I really should concentrate more.)

His writing style hearkens back to an older style, a little more stylistic and laborious, complete with random outbursts of poetry--possibly due to Carreiro's background as an adjunct professor of English. All that Shakespeare must come out somewhere, I guess. The Christian themes don't really come up that much in this one, other than some supernatural events and visions (it's much more obvious in the next book: the Penitent - Part II).

Even though it's only Part 1, and I expected it not to have a complete arc, I personally wanted more story in it--more moving forward action, instead of reflections on the past. As it is, I'm not going to give any star-rating for this review because I really don't know how to rate it.


the Penitent - Part II by A. Keith Carreiro

The Penitent: Part II follows Evangel Blessingvale/Greatworth and the revelation of the Risen One.

Evangel is saved as a child by Matthew Greatworth, the hermit she calls grandfather. Now seventeen, she is touched by a rare spiritual power when their home is attacked by the Dread Rovers and Matthew is tortured. Evangel is faced with opposition from the Priory when news of her miraculous meeting with The Risen One spreads, as the religion has long been outlawed in the country--on pain of death.

The Christian themes are presented much more clearly in this part, with the obvious Risen One as the Christ figure. Part 2 moves forward more fluidly too--there are fewer flashbacks as Carreiro focuses on the current events of miraculous salvation, changed lives and spreading of the good news.

There isn't much interlinkage between Part 1 and 2--you can almost read them as standalone stories--as the only mention of anything from Part 1 comes in the last two chapters when Evangel has a vision of Pall Warren.

There's a coming Part 3 which should round out this trilogy, but I'm not quite sure what's the status of that.

Note: I received a complimentary copy of both books from the author. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

View all my reviews

#AtoZChallenge: Hermeneutical

Theirs was a friendship built on enmity, founded on hermeneutical arguments that led only to agreements to disagree. They were people of the Word, yes, but words were flimsy and open to interpretation, the way people used the Bible both to justify and condemn slavery.

She believed in the Living Spirit, in the miracle of the now. God was moving and alive, making all things new. Life was lived in the present, with fresh anointing for each new day, each new season. Revival was within grasp, redemption purchased daily, mercy upon mercy, grace upon grace.

He believed in the Resurrection, works done in the past sealed for all eternity. God moved, He spoke, but the age of miracles had passed. Life was lived in the present, yet once anointed, forever anointed. What for revival when your faith and future was already assured? Redemption once accepted was yours forever.

Who was right and who was wrong? None could say. Still they sparred, from ten to thirty, decades ticking by word by word, argument by argument. They lived and loved, but still returned to that one question neither could fully answer to the other’s satisfaction:

What was the unforgiveable sin? For did God not forgive and redeem all things?

---

Today's suggestions were:

• hedgehogs, from Barbara Harrison
• honeybee, from Andrea Stoeckel
• honeymoon/heartfelt/hallowed/holy, from Cherie Osier
• hermeneutical, from Z

Hermeneutical is all Z's fault. I tried. Sorry.

I'm also woefully under target wordcount, so I'll try to write longer pieces for the next few. 

#AtoZChallenge: Generous Gallah

George didn’t earn much as a pastor at a small town church. He lived well within his means, saving enough money every year to visit his brother in the big city. So when he and his brother, Greg, inherited a small fortune from their father, George didn’t quite know what to do with it. Greg, a high-flying financier, had his portion in investments and stocks immediately, earning interest within days.

Since George knew that many of his parishioners were facing financial difficulties in the poor economic climate, he decided that he would help them out. After church the next Sunday, he casually mentioned it to a few friends he knew were facing especially tough times. Within days, he was swamped with a long list of families requesting assistance, even from people who had never stepped foot in his church before.

“What do I do, Greg?” George phoned his brother, overwhelmed by the response.

“You great gallah,” Greg scolded. “If you tell people you have money, of course everyone and their pet monkey is going to come asking you for it. They’ll create all sorts of sob stories to gain a little of your sympathy and a lot of your money. Don’t you have any brains?”

“Don’t be mean. Of course I do. But I just wanted to be kind to people, not selfish like you.”

“Your generosity is going to be the death of you,” Greg muttered.

George glared at his phone, wishing he was near enough to throttle his brother. “It’s my money to do with as I wish.”

“You did ask for my advice.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. You grouch.”

“Whatever you decide, you’re still accountable for it.”

“I don’t see why you have make such a fuss, though.”

Greg grimaced. “Because when you run out of money, who’s going to have to bail you out? Me!”

Despite his grumbling, Greg was right—George knew that if he didn’t work this out properly, being overly generous might just land him in a spot of trouble.

“Tell me what to do, Greg,” George finally swallowed his pride and asked.

“Only touch your interest,” Greg replied like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“So I only give out a little every year?”

“Yes. And start a proper application process, if you can. You’ll need to review all their claims to make sure they really do need the money.”

George groaned.

“You did ask for advice,” Greg repeated. 

“I know. Thank you. I’ll have to think about this again. Being generous is really hard sometimes.”

---

Today's suggestions were:

• Golliwog, from Barbara Harrison
• Grace/giving/generosity, from Cherie Osier
• Gallah, from Sharna Steinert

I went with Generosity (well, generous) and Gallah. Struggled a little with Gallah because OED doesn't recognise it as a word, Merriam Webster says it's some form of Christian cleric, and Urban Dictionary says it's slang for idiot. Aren't words fun!

#AtoZChallenge: Faithful

Felicity wasn’t unfaithful. She wasn’t. She was a fairywren, sticking to her partner through thick and thin. Thick, in this particular case; Harold had put on so much weight, she’d started calling him Fatso. True, she’d been eyeing several handsome, young men that crossed her path, but here she still was, faithful to her boyfriend, discussing marriage plans that bored her to tears.

~ 

“Let’s just elope,” she said, after the 398th argument on wedding venues.

Fatso looked shocked. “My mother would kill me!”

“You’re not marrying her, though.”

He side-eyed her.

~ 

“I’m not wearing a farthingale,” she insisted, after the 562nd argument on wedding dresses.

Fatso bit his lip. “Mother insisted it would look great.”

“On her, maybe.”

He stared down at the table.

~ 

“Look, let’s call this off,” she whispered, after the 796th argument on wedding dates.

Fatso closed his eyes. “Why?”

Felicity stared at her hands, her fingers twisting, tightening into knots.

“Has there been someone else?” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“There’s only been you,” she said, words tumbling over themselves as they emerged from her mouth. “But I can’t. I can’t stay. I don’t know how. The tighter you bind me, the further I run. I love you, but I can’t stay.”

Harold’s lips curled up in a smile as his forehead crinkled. “I’ve always known that, I think. You love too many things, too many people to be tied to me.”

Felicity lifted a thumb to his face, wiping away a stray tear. “But I’ll always return to you.”

~ 

Felicity wasn’t unfaithful, oh no. She wasn’t because she never promised to be. Yet whatever she did, wherever she went, she always returned to the man who once held her heart and then let her go again.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• farthingale, from Barbara Harrison
• flowerbed, anonymous
• faithful/forthcoming/freedom, from Cherie Osier
• fairy penguin/fairywren, from Sharna Steinert

I started off with faithful, but managed to fit in mentions of farthingale and fairywren in there. Also a tinge of freedom, maybe?

More suggestions? Click the link below:

Give me more words!

#AtoZChallenge: Eglantine Rose, Eleanthus Orchid

It wasn’t quite the war of the roses, although it did involve a rose.

Emily wanted to deck the halls with the Eglantine Rose whilst Edward insisted that the Eleanthus Orchid would really make the place stand out. They argued all the way to the florist and all the way back, each adamant that their choice was the better one. It didn’t help that the florist said they could get both flowers if needed. Neither Emily nor Edward cared about the cost so they didn’t even look at the prices. All they cared about was that they got their own way.

Emily started a campaign amongst the girls in favour of the rose, playing up how beautiful and fragrant the pink flowers were—and also how healthy and economical. Once they were done with the flowers, they could make tea from the rose hips, which were full of vitamin A and C and other very helpful nutrients. “Besides, they’re roses,” she said to cinch the deal, “and roses are so romantic.”

Within hours, Edward started his own campaign amongst the guys for the orchid on the basis that they were rare and exotic and would therefore increase the status of the event. The girls would like them because they were pink, but they would also appreciate them more because they weren’t as common as roses, which showed how much effort they’d made.

It came down to a vote.

“Roses are classic,” Emily said.

“Orchids are special,” Edward replied.

The prom committee decided that flowers were overrated, expensive, and messy. They voted instead for LED fairy lights which could be reused from the school’s Christmas decorations.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• eglantine, from Barbara Harrison
• eleanthus, from Andrea Stoeckel
• education/elevation/election/encourage/environment, from Cherie Osier
• emu/echidna, from Sharna Steinert

I wanted to use Eleanthus, but there wasn't much about it online, so I figured since Eglantine was also a flower, I'd just use both.

Give me more words!

I generally choose the next word the night before or on the day itself, depending on when I'm writing the post. 

However, I've adjusted some of the selection dates for posts that fall on 19-22 April because I'll be at Eastercon then and probably won't have time to write! Click on the red link above to see upcoming words or add more of your own. ;)

#AtoZChallenge: Dormouse

Dora Dormouse dozed. It was late March, still too cold out for comfort, but almost time to awake. She turned over and snuggled in her little nest in the hollow of a tree, tail wrapped around her head, dreaming of nuts and fruits and flowers.

The growling of her stomach woke Dora on the fourth of April, sounding loud in her round ears. Eyes still closed, she ran a paw over her ears, smoothing down her golden fur, and scratched at her cheeks. A slight frown formed on her face. Her cheeks felt too thin. Time indeed to emerge from hibernation and find some good food to eat. Too early for berries, maybe, but she was sure the flowers were out. A good dandelion might be a nice waking up snack. She could smell them. Her nose wiggled as she sniffed the air. Dora’s belly rumbled again and her fluffy tail twitched in amusement as she stretched. Finally, she blinked her black eyes open and looked around.

“Ho, sleepy one! Are you finally awake?” Sally Squirrel shouted from her drey.

Dora tried not to roll her eyes. Squirrels were too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for her taste, but one had to be kind to one’s neighbours, she supposed. “Yes, I’m awake, Sally,” she replied.

“Oh good! My pup visited last night and brought me a great batch of hazelnuts. Do you want some?”

“Where on earth did he find hazelnuts in April?” Dora asked.

A doubtful tone crept into Sally’s voice. “It was a stash he hid in winter, I think.”

Maybe, Dora thought, but most likely it was left out by the humans and she wasn’t quite sure she trusted them. One never knew what humans might do. If they were the nice kind, the nuts would be safe to eat, but if they were the other kind, who knew what was in them?

“You haven’t eaten any, have you?” Dora asked.

There was a scrabbling above and Dora sighed, backing away from her door. Two seconds later, Sally burst in, cheeks and paws full of nuts.  Sally dropped them all over the floor then pushed them into two small little piles.

“Here! I haven’t had any! I thought you might unhibernate soon so I waited until I heard you move.”

“That sounds a little creepy, you know,” Dora remarked mildly. She picked up a nut and inspected it. It looked alright, no obvious signs of tampering, and it smelt alright too, nothing unnatural or strange about it. Her tummy grumbled again.

“Oh come on, Dora, I’m sure it’s safe. Red had some last night before he brought them over and he’s fine,” Sally said as she chomped down on one.

Still, Dora waited three seconds to see if Sally keeled over and died. When nothing bad happened, Dora daintily put the nut to her mouth and nibbled at it. “Thanks Sally.”

“No problem, Dora! That’s what neighbours are for!”

When Sally finally left, leaving a small pile of hazelnuts behind, Dora heaved a sigh of relief. It was still bright out, so she decided to take a nap before heading out in the evening.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• Dormouse, from Barbara Harrison
• Dolphin or Dugong, from Sharna Steinert.

I used Sharna's suggestion on Tuesday, so I thought I'd use Barbara's this time! I don't really know much about dormice, so here are the sites I looked them up on:

Dormice: Britain's sleepiest, and most charming little creatures
Dormice - not mice at all!
Ten things you didn't know about dormice
Wikipedia
Dormouse – Muscardinus avellanarius

I'm not sure if dormice and squirrels are actually friends, but they stay in the same areas and eat the same kinds of food, so I figured... why not. They could actually be really bitter enemies but who knows!
I'm a city girl and have never actually seen any of these little critters in real life, so if I'm decidedly wrong, let me know in the comments.

Give me more words!

I generally choose the next word the night before or on the day itself, depending on when I'm writing the post. 

#AtoZChallenge: Card, Orson Scott -- #bookreview of Lost and Found

Lost and found by Orson Scott Card
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Ezekiel Bliss finds lost things and returns them, a compulsion that has gotten him into trouble with the police so often that he drives himself to distraction to ignore it. Beth Sorenson is a proportionate dwarf too smart for her own good, who can pretty much get anyone to do what she says just by talking to them. Beth wiggles her way into Ezekiel's "shunning bubble", they agree to take part in a research group that studies their micropowers (which are like superhero powers, just not as useful), and along the way, Ezekiel helps the police and learns how to be a friend to the only one he's got.

Lost and Found is one of those books I'd probably love a lot more if I'd read it when I was younger. Sometimes, I wonder if I liked Ender's Game as much as I do because I read it at just the right age. Because I really wanted to like this. You've got two snarky teens against the world, and the only two humans who aren't against them are Ezekiel's father and the police detective who really wants Ezekiel to help him find a missing kid. What's there not to love? (Though I probably have to note that Ender's Game reads like it's written for adults whereas this one was definitely written for the much, much younger end of YA.)

Card still hits the right spots with his emotional arcs and there's nothing lacking in the action; the only major thing I can pinpoint for sure is that after a while, all the snarkiness became a little too over the top. There could have been a little more variance in the way the characters interacted with each other. I also saw one of the twists from quite far off, but seeing I'm probably two decades older than the target market, that's probably me and not him.

I'm giving this 4-stars because whilst it's not AMAZING, it's actually pretty enjoyable for someone a lot younger and less cynical than me (e.g. hopefully the actual target age group). Personally, it fits more on the 3-star scale. I liked it, but eh.

View all my reviews

---

No flash fiction today, sorry. Back tomorrow!

#AtoZChallenge: Bunyip

Bethany sat by the billabong, waiting. Her brother, Barry, said he’d seen a bunyip there yesterday and she wanted to see one too. It had been raining recently, which was why the billabong was half full—and probably why the bunyip had come. At least, that was what Barry said. Bethany wasn’t so sure she believed everything he said anymore. Older brothers were good at protecting you from bullies but not so good at not bullying you, and Bethany had borne the brunt of many a prank from him. Just yesterday, before telling her about the bunyip, he’d also said that Mother had baked cookies and buried them in the backyard. She’d looked a right fool sending the dog out to sniff for cookies while she stood there with a shovel. 

Anyway, Barry had said he’d seen a huge creature emerging from the water, like an alligator, only it got up on its back legs and walked. When Bethany accused him of lying—he’d probably seen an alligator and was teasing her—he’d looked wounded and said it had a birdlike head with a long bill and why would he make up something like that? Why wouldn’t he? But Barry was insistent he’d really seen one, and then he’d shown her the scratch marks high up on a tree which came from the bunyip’s sharp claws. 

The ten-year-old was almost asleep when she heard rustling nearby. She froze, her eyes growing wide as she turned in the direction of the sound.

“Ha! Gotcha!” Barry jumped out of the bushes waving his hands about, making Bethany scream.

“Barry! You scared me.” Bethany’s eyes filled with tears. She’d sat for hours and hours waiting and it was only Barry with his stupid baloney.

“Hey, don’t cry, Beth.”

“You’re mean,” Bethany said between sniffs.

Barry awkwardly put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry. It was just a bit of fun.”

Bethany shrugged him off and stomped down the billabong. She should have known it was another one of his tricks, like the buried cookies.

“Hey wait! Don’t wander off,” Barry called after her, but she stuck her fingers in her ears.

His voice faded in the distance and Bethany slowed down as her anger subsided. Soon, all she could hear was the wind in the leaves, the crunching of her own feet on the sand, and the soft lapping of water. She sighed as she kicked off her sandals, clambered on a rock and dipped her feet in the cold water.

A bloop bloop sounded to her right and Bethany frowned.

“Go away, Barry,” she said, splashing the water with her feet.

The blooping sounded again, nearer this time, pushing ripples towards Bethany’s feet.

“Not funny.”

Barry didn’t reply, which felt a little strange because he always liked to gloat. Bethany turned to see a long creature with glossy black fur floating in the water, looking at her with large apricot eyes. She stared back, her mouth agape. The creature came closer, its nose wiggling as if it were sniffing her. Bethany slowly reached out her hand, longing to touch the soft-looking fur, but with a last suspicious look, the creature flipped over and dove back into the water.

Bethany tracked the ripples of its movement until she couldn’t see it anymore. She slipped off the rock, stuck her feet back into her sandals, then made her way home.

When she told Barry about the bunyip, all he said was, “Bunyips aren’t real, silly.”

Bethany didn’t believe him anymore. After all, she’d seen one.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• battledore, from Barbara Harrison
• bunyip or bilby, from Sharna Steinert

I went with bunyip because mythical creatures are cool! You may also realise that Barry and Bethany's descriptions of the creature are different... and that isn't a mistake! If you read the wikipedia link, no one actually agrees on what a bunyip looks like. 

Give me more words!

I generally choose the next word the night before or on the day itself, depending on when I'm writing the post. 

#AtoZChallenge: Agog

All the Mahan palace servants were agog with the news. King Simson was going to marry Queen Layla. The bridge across the channel was going to be rebuilt, trade reestablished between Maha and Bayangan… Yosua would finally be able to see Bayangan after hearing his parents reminisce about their homeland all his life.

“It’s not going to happen,” Garett, his father, said with a grunt, not bothering to look up from where he bent over the washboard and the large, steaming tub. “He has to get the approval of the Temple, and the High Priest in Suci will fight this every step of the way.”

“But Pa, he’s already got the Council of Seven to agree,” Yosua protested.

“Think, Yosua. Who’s got more authority? The Temple or the Council?”

“I thought you wanted to go home.”

Garett stopped scrubbing and gave him a searing look. Yosua shut up, sucking on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something he would regret later.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Garett asked as he resumed his work.

“Dropping off the prince’s laundry,” Yosua replied sullenly.

“Well, get on with it then.”

“It’s done, Pa.” He kicked at the basket by his feet. “His Highness is busy at training, so it’s not like he’s going to miss me.”

Yosua leaned back against the nearby wall and watched his father. As much as Garett said it was random, Yosua knew it was punishment. Yosua had long since realised that his father was assigned the worst jobs every time there was unrest amongst the captives from Bayangan. This latest reshuffling was to humiliate him and to quieten them, to warn them about being too uppity now that the new queen of their home country was visiting.

“It’s not as if they’ll allow me to go,” Garett said so softly that Yosua almost missed it. “You might, though.”

“What?”

“If they have the wedding in Bayangan and Prince Mikal goes, you’ll be brought along.”

“King Simson will bring you too.”

Garett snorted. “He won’t. He’ll make sure I’m kept here, in chains if necessary, to keep everyone else in line.”

“But—they’re proposing an alliance, Pa. Things are changing.”

“I didn’t raise a fool.”

“I’m not—”

“Whatever this treaty is, it’s only for trade. The marriage will be turned into an advantage for Maha alone, not even the rest of Terang. Do you think Bayangan has the power to do anything? The fact that the Queen herself is here, proposing a marriage alliance proves they don’t have enough resources to survive on, Yosua. I cannot think of any other reason why the pride of Bayangan herself would stoop to this.”

“What if—” Yosua froze as the temple bells tolled. He set off at a run.

“You’ll see I’m right,” Garett called after him.

Yosua was still out of breath when the prince entered his rooms.

Prince Mikal frowned at the still-filling bathtub. “What’s got you so excited that you’re late?”

“I… the royal wedding, Master.”

“The what?”

Yosua stammered, “Between your father and the Bayangan Queen?”

The young servant boy had never seen his master turn as white and flustered as he did then, not agog but aghast at the news.

---

Today's suggestions were:

• Apricots, from Barbara Harrison
• Alzheimer's, from Ch'ng Mei Yen 
• Amethyst or Ant, from Sharna Steinert
• Agog, from Inga Vesper

I went with Agog because... I dunno. It sounded fun. haha :)
It's also a plausible scene that may fit somewhere in my WIP, though the timeline may be a little off. By the time this alliance is proposed, several secrets should have been revealed, which don't seem to be evident here. I'll have to think about that.

If you have more prompts for the rest of the month, drop them here.

#bookreview: The Winter Road | Adrian Selby

The Winter Road by Adrian Selby
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What does an ex-soldier, newly rich merchant want with a road through the Circle? But Teyr is hungry to prove herself to the family she left behind in the Circle and to the family she has gained in Hillfast: Aude and his boy Mosa, who calls her Ma. The Winter Road is the tale of Teyr Amondsen's ambition, pride, and folly as she pursues her goal, only to be pursued in return by war and death.

It's not often that you find a fantasy book as gritty, grim and brutal as this with a woman who's not waiting to be rescued, but who's leading the fight. Yet also not a woman trying to be a man, but one who has weighed her choices, found peace with her barrenness, and instead loves the people and children that life and chance send her way. It's a fine balance that Selby walks, and Teyr is as facetted a character as you could wish for: ambitious, broken, courageous, defeated, empathetic, foolish... I could go on.

The Winter Road is initially a hard read. I was reading multiple books at the same time, so I had to backtrack and restart the story because a) the flipping between past and present threw off my sense of time, b) I lost track of names, and c) Selby doesn't exactly use standard English all the time. Do not do this. Do not torture yourself. You need to hit this book running and keep going until the payoff when you can no longer stop.

But also, give yourself time to cry and be traumatised mid-book. It's not like Selby doesn't prepare you for it. Almost from the beginning, you know it's going to happen, you know it's going to hurt, but when it finally does, oof, it's a stab in the heart.

The going gets easier in Part Two, when it's all in the present and the action ramps up. Also, if you haven't gotten the slang by now, I don't know what or how you've been reading. The book really ends for me at the closing of Part Two; Part Three is denouement, the playing out of that final story of Aude and Teyr, most of it via letters. It's nice to know, but it feels a little like filler, like when Frodo gets back to the Shire, or the Aragorn and Arwen appendix--you're settling in for the end, tying up loose ends. It's also maybe set up for Snakewood, which I haven't read yet.

The Winter Road is not for the faint-hearted. It's dark and brutal, though, funnily enough, driven by one who wants what's best for the world.

View all my reviews

#musicmonday: Slow Your Breath Down | Future of Forestry

This chest is full of memories, of gold and silver tears
I'll give you more to own than all of this
And I'll give you more than years
For you were once a child of innocence
And I see you just the same
Your burdens couldn't win or lose a thing
Oh, I'd tell you once again
But you're always on the run

Slow your breath down, just take it slow
Find your heart now, oh
You can trust and love again, oh
Slow your breath down, just take it slow
Find your smile now, oh
You can trust and love again, oh

If you leave I'll still be close to you,
When all your fears rain down
I'll take you back a thousand times again
Oh, I'll take you as my own
I would sing you songs of innocence
'Til the light of morning comes
'Til the rays of gold and honey cover you
In the sweetness of the dawn
But you’re always on the run

Slow your breath down, just take it slow
Find your heart now, oh
You can trust and love again, oh
Slow your breath down, just take it slow
Find your smile now, oh
You can trust and love again, oh

You're not alone
You're now a part of me
You feel the cure
I'll feel the toil it brought you
You're not alone
You're now a part of me
You feel the cure
I'll feel the toil it brought you

You're not alone
(Slow your breath down, just take it slow)
You're now a part of me
(Find your heart now, oh)
You feel the cure
(You can trust and love again, oh)
I'll feel the toil it brought you
You're not alone
(Slow your breath down, just take it slow)
You're now a part of me
(Find your smile now, oh)
You feel the cure
(You can trust and love again, oh)
I'll feel the toil it brought you

Songwriters: OWYOUNG ERIC

---

If my music is split into eras, this comes from the years of indie and Thern, thrown up into memory by a random Spotify playlist. 

Limbo

When do you stop?

I feel like I'm going, I'm moving, I'm pushing, but I'm just going in endless circles, pushing against nothing, achieving nothing. I want to be done with this, to move on, but I don't want to, it's too much effort.

I'm exhausted from doing nothing, honestly. Or rather, from telling myself to do things that I then fail to do.

All I can tell myself now is that in 1.5 weeks, this will end. With that stupid assignment that's dragging out of the way, and the last of the formal classes done, I'll be able to sit and focus and write.

No distractions.

No excuses.

But for now, I have a lot of things to get out of the way by the end of March.

... how is it already March?!

#bookreview: Lunching with Lions: Strategies for the Networking-Averse

Lunching with Lions: Strategies for the Networking-Averse by Katherine McGraw Patterson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I picked this up because I hate hate hate hate hate networking. You know that feeling where you know you should go to stuff and talk to people and tell them about what you do and all that?
Yeah.
Turns out, according to Patterson I'm doing half of it right but two things are holding me back: my mindset and my lack of purpose.

Lunching with Lions is a pretty breezy read. It's not a textbook that you're going to be struggling over, but a conversational classroom (sorta) with very honest personal anecdotes that make you go yeah, that's me. It's designed to give you both the confidence of "hey, if she can do it, so can I!" plus the kick in the pants of "I really need to get my act together, don't I?"

Patterson breaks things down step-by-step so that it doesn't overwhelm, effectively holding your hand through the process. But then as with all books like this, you've read the materials, now you gotta put it into practice. Which is the hard part, but not as hard now that you've got tips to help you on the way.

View all my reviews

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Apologies! Apparently attending a three-day fair and then going to Stratford-Upon-Avon has wreaked havoc on my deadlines so I've been pushing things further and further back. I hope to be back on regular schedule soon.

Uh I have to anyway, because A to Z is coming up.

#musicmonday: I Won't Let You Go | Switchfoot ft Lauren Daigle

Because this song deserves a repost.

#bookreview: Written to Be Heard: Recovering the Messages of the Gospels

A couple of days late because I was waylaid by the London Book Fair!

Written to Be Heard: Recovering the Messages of the Gospels by Paul Borgman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This took me longer to finish than expected, mainly because it requires a lot of thought (I tend to speed-read my way through a lot of things, which isn't really optimal, but is what works for me). Written to be Heard, however, is the kind of book that you want to mull over and read with your Bible open at the same time, not because you don't trust what Borgman and Clark are expounding on in the text, but because you want to see with your own eyes the patterns that are being pulled out for you--and maybe read aloud to yourself.

Part Bible exposition, part literary study, the writers cover each of the Gospels in great detail, teasing out the biases, aims and structure of each writer, or in this case, storyteller of the Good News. Rather than cross-referencing the Gospels to each other and arguing about their differences, as we tend to do, they suggest that we consider each Gospel as individual stories, and as a transcription of an oral heritage. Variations, repetitions, and the way each book is structured then becomes understood as less of haphazard and poorly-constructed narrative--they are instead cues for listeners to pick up the points and themes of each Gospel.

Written to Be Heard: Recovering the Messages of the Gospels gives modern Christians a lot to chew on. As society moves from heavy reliance on text and the written word back to a preference for audio-visual forms, maybe the church should also reconsider what it means to read the Bible aloud.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

View all my reviews

#musicmonday: Light / Dust | Josh Yeoh ft Jon Cho

You’re the God who spoke light into darkness

You hold my heart, You remember my frame

You’re the strength in the midst of my weakness

You remember my name

You remember my name 

I signed up for the #atozchallenge and need your help!

Okay, in line with my facebook fast for Lent, I now need to find *ALL NEW WAYS* to procrastinate on homework, and this idea came to me in the shower. (Shower thoughts are the best.)

I've been doing a module on writing in the community and in education, so what better way to procrastinate than to put into practice all the things I've learnt! HAHAH. At least it's productive! Somewhat.

This April, I will be writing flash fiction based on words suggested by YOU, yes all you people who are reading this post. All you have to do is open this google sheet and give me random words/themes/thoughts that begin with the letter for the day. (Or leave a comment here and I'll add them in.) The only rule is let's keep it kid-friendly, eh? Bonuses if you go the mythological/folktale route.

Yes, that's it.

GIVE ME A WORD

My past A-to-Z Challenge posts/themes:
2011: Fiction, on a now defunct blog. I think it became a single, interconnected story
2012: Unrelated flash fiction, words (mostly) chosen from the last word for each letter in the dictionary.
2013: Unrelated flash fiction, mostly influenced by icebreakers and KOL.
2014: Flash fiction: mythical creatures. This eventually became Coexist.
2015: Worship songs, because I was doing camp nano and couldn't write two things at the same time.
2016: Anna's A to Z of Worship Leading, which was compiled into an ebook.
2017: Princesses, which comes with pretty pictures on ind.elvenstar.net.
2018: Absolution, where I merged campnano with A to Z and ended up blogging about my WIP, which is still my WIP, and an offshoot of which will now be my dissertation. Don't you love it when all your projects become one. massive. *insert swearwordy* thingamabob.
2019: Community writing HA.

p/s If you want to throw in a guest post on any of the letters, let me know! Email me at posts [at] annatsp [dot] com and we'll work something out.

---

It's the Blogging from A to Z Challenge's tenth anniversary! This is my ninth year with them, so that's pretty great. A quick summary of what it is: we blog a post a day (except Sundays) following the alphabet! Anything goes--there's a wide range of topics from everyday stuff, photos, music, research, locations, art, fiction, as long as it follows the sequence of the alphabet. Then everyone hops over to other blogs on the list to see what they're writing about!

If you've always wanted to start a blog but didn't know how, this is a quick, easy way to get started. It comes with a guide of posts for the month (A to Z) and it comes with an inbuilt, interactive community (other participants) who will cheer you on the way. 

#fridayflash: Deep Waters

For you cast me into the deep,
Into the heart of the seas,

I ran. Of course I ran. What else was I do to? I couldn’t stay—not when staying was certain death. That’s what happens when you disobey a Royal (not quite, but close enough) Decree.

What decree? Do you think I have a death wish? I don’t know you well enough to tell you. I’m far enough away now, but not that far. His reach is pretty long—I shouldn’t even be telling you this. (You’re listening, aren’t you?) I just… don’t have anything else to do on this ship, I guess. By the time I reach shore and you get word back to him, I’ll be long gone anyway. Not that I’m telling you who. Or where. (Not like… never mind.)

I’m not saying anything else.

And the floods surrounded me;
All Your billows and Your waves passed over me.

What do you mean we’re sinking? You said this ship was unsinkable! The best on the Mediterranean Sea! Was that lie? (I knew you’d catch up.)

Pray? What— (No.)

I— (I’m not talking to you.)

Fine, fine, fine. It’s my fault (Your fault, why are you doing this to me? Just let me go). Throw me in the sea. You’ll be safe. My God’s after me, all right? It wasn’t a Royal Decree. It was a God Decree and YES I KNOW I WAS RUNNING AWAY. (YES, I KNOW I AM A FOOL.)

Just throw me in the sea. You’ll be fine.

Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?

Good fish. Nice fish. Don’t digest me. If you could just throw me up on a deserted island, that would be great. Wouldn’t that be great?

(OKAY FINE. IT’S MY FAULT. I SHOULDN’T HAVE RUN. I SHOULDN’T HAVE DISOBEYED. I KNOW THAT TARSHISH IS IN THE WRONG DIRECTION BUT I HATE NINEVEH. I’M… I am sorry. This is stupid.)

If I ascend into heaven, You are there
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.

Fine. I’m talking to you. Yes, I’m talking to you again, God. I know I’ve been stupid and childish, but hey, here you are keeping me alive. In a fish. Which is gross, but—alive. Alive is good. (A nice island with nobody around, I’ll survive on fish—no, maybe not fish—Uh, or monkeys. Or something.)

I’ll go. I will (this is coercion) but I will. I—

If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

Yeah, I know I’ve been stupid. But you still love me, don’t you? And you still love those horrible people so I guess… I guess I’ll go. (DESERTED ISLAND PLEASE!)

After all, who says they’ll listen? (I hope they don’t.)

No, I didn’t say anything. Scout’s honour. (Though I’ve never been a scout.)

Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.

Uh, hey guys. So you’re probably not going to believe me, but God’s angry at you. In forty days, you’re gonna be toast. So you better repent. (Or not—ah yes, repent. Repent!)

(I hate my job.)

---

Because I felt my blog needed more crappy fiction and I found this in my archives. lol

No cookies for guessing where it's from.

#bookreview: A Cloud by Day, a Fire by Night: Finding and Following God's Will for You | AW Tozer

A Cloud by Day, a Fire by Night: Finding and Following God's Will for You by A.W. Tozer
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A Cloud by Day, a Fire by Night is a compilation of A.W. Tozer's sermons around Exodus as compiled and edited by James L. Snyder.

Starting off with seeking God's will in your life, each of the 23 sermons is a compact reminder that as God brought the Israelites out of Egypt and into the Canaan with visible, tangible signs of His presence, God will also lead you through your wilderness into the place that He has prepared for you. He doesn't promise it will be easy, doesn't sugarcoat it with the platitudes common in church nowadays, emphasising instead that the journey will be hard and there will be many things that discourage us and disappoint us on the way, and that obedience often means surrender and sacrifice as well.

It's easy to get distracted and to give up, but remember that God goes before you, and stands behind you, providing the cloud by day and a fire by night to get us to where we're meant to be. If you need affirmation of God's truths and guidance to understanding God's will for your life, this is a good book to pick up.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from Bethany House Publishers via Netgalley. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.

View all my reviews

Pick up my #ebooks for #free or at 50% off at #Smashwords this week!

Hey! It's Read an E-Book Week over at Smashwords.

In line with that, I thought I'd give you a quick overview of my books and how you can pick them up for free/cheap!

The Painted Hall Collection is a series of short stories set in the mythical North.

A curse binds the City of Winter and the Dragon's prophecy holds the key to breaking it. But will a poor fisherman from the South have the means to fulfil the prophecy? Or will the foreignness of the North itself repel him and his efforts?

Whilst the collection itself, which includes a new standalone story, is at 50% off, you can get the original four short stories in this series free:

1. When Winds Blow Cold
2. The Flame of the North
3. Beneath the Rumbling Earth
4. A Still, Small Voice

If you're looking for Western fairy tales featuring elves, dragons, and fairies, Coexist is the novella for you!

Fifteen-year-old Jane stumbles upon a portal to a fantastical and dangerous world--and discovers things about her family and heritage that she has never known before! Along the way, she makes friend with a friendly adlet, almost gets tricked by a kelpie and has to run from the Fairy Queen herself.

Coexist is available for free this week.

Many years later after Coexist, a young woman named Sara who lives half the globe away stumbles upon a different fairy world--the Malaysian Alam Dongeng.

There’s a war to protect Alam Dongeng, helmed by the Orang Bunian and Garuda. But are the ranks of Hantu really Sara and Helmi's enemies? They may very well be fighting the wrong battle.

Dongeng brings together the dark folklore and fairy creatures of Southeast Asia and the Western fairy tale lore already explored in Coexist. 

Get your copy of Dongeng at 50% off this week.