Salutations, my good friends.
At the beginning of this year, when I took on this mad commitment of writing one blog post a week for an entire year, I knew in the back of my head that it would become steadily more difficult to get in the time required to hammer out a proper post. However, I had foolishly thought that I'd be getting posts up on the Wednesday of the week, not hours from my self-imposed deadline of Sunday night. Oh, how very naive I was.
So here I doth sit, on a Friday night*, getting my post done for Sunday.
"Why Whimsy," you might say, "you're ahead of the game this week! Don't despair."**
Forsooth, but you are wrong. So very, very wrong.
You see, tomorrow I'm having my family over to celebrate my Aunt's birthday. She died when I was three years old, but we get together to remember her. There will be brownies, her favorite dessert.
Then, I'll be going to bed stupidly early (think 10pm***).
"Goodness, Whimsy." you say, clasping your hand to your brow, "Why such a dreadfully early bedtime?"****
Thank you for asking, my friend-who-I-just-made-up-for-the-purpose-of-asking-questions. I'll be getting up INSANELY EARLY on Sunday morning so I can work a SEVENTEEN HOUR DAY at a local theatre. They're hosting a touring production of The Color Purple, and I (along with my family) will be helping load in, do costumes, help during the show, and load out. The day starts at 7am, (a time that in Whimsyville just does NOT happen to exist) and we finish the day at midnight. Yep, long day.
Anyway, that's all I have for you this week, but rest assured, I have LOADS of news for next week. Suffice it to say that the classes that my family is teaching started this past Tuesday, and there is much hilarity to share concerning small children and the things they do.
Excitedly yours,
Whimsy
*I started this Friday night, but a combination of cataclysmic events (not really, just being busy) caused me to finish and post this on Saturday morning.
**Nobody I know talks like this, but they SHOULD.
***Since my usual bedtime is somewhere between 12 and 3am, this is the same as a massive culture shock.
****Because this is my blog, I shall write my fictional conversations with you as if you are a Brit from the 1800's.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Week Eight: "Grown Up"
I hope I never grow up.
I don't mean that in the Peter Pan-Neverland sort of way, or the horribly morbid I-Shall-Die-Before-I-Grow-Old way, or even the I-Refuse-To-Take-Responsibility-For-Anything-Therefore-Remaining-Childlike-Forever kind of way.
What I mean is this. Children blow on dandelions and watch the seeds scatter, not worried about weeds marring their pristine lawns. Children ask questions because they are interested in finding out "how come"?
I want to always...look for the rainbow in the garden hose off-spray.
...blow dandelions and watch the seeds fall where they may.
...hang over the edge of the tree house and pretend I can fly.
...dance like a madman to 80's music.
...wonder what the world would be like with purple clouds.
...do cartwheels, regardless of my talents.
...get excited about small things like grape jelly.
...look for heart shaped rocks at the beach.
...believe in fairies and magic.
That, to me is the definition of "grown-up". In addition, saying that you're "grown-up" seems to me to be saying that you can't grow anymore. To me, growing is a process that I never want to stop. If you can't grow anymore, then you're stuck in a state of stasis.
I want to grow, but I never want to be grown.
~Whimsy
P.S. Why has this struck me now? This coming Tuesday, I start my second session of classes as a teacher at a local homeschool co-op. This time, instead of working with teens, I'm going to be working with littler ones, ages 6-12. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I love that age range. ^___^
P.P.S. Am also building props for a local theater, and working tech-whatnot at another theatre this coming Sunday.
P.P.P.S I'm feeling like my life is very exciting right now.
I don't mean that in the Peter Pan-Neverland sort of way, or the horribly morbid I-Shall-Die-Before-I-Grow-Old way, or even the I-Refuse-To-Take-Responsibility-For-Anything-Therefore-Remaining-Childlike-Forever kind of way.
What I mean is this. Children blow on dandelions and watch the seeds scatter, not worried about weeds marring their pristine lawns. Children ask questions because they are interested in finding out "how come"?
I want to always...look for the rainbow in the garden hose off-spray.
...blow dandelions and watch the seeds fall where they may.
...hang over the edge of the tree house and pretend I can fly.
...dance like a madman to 80's music.
...wonder what the world would be like with purple clouds.
...do cartwheels, regardless of my talents.
...get excited about small things like grape jelly.
...look for heart shaped rocks at the beach.
...believe in fairies and magic.
That, to me is the definition of "grown-up". In addition, saying that you're "grown-up" seems to me to be saying that you can't grow anymore. To me, growing is a process that I never want to stop. If you can't grow anymore, then you're stuck in a state of stasis.
I want to grow, but I never want to be grown.
~Whimsy
P.S. Why has this struck me now? This coming Tuesday, I start my second session of classes as a teacher at a local homeschool co-op. This time, instead of working with teens, I'm going to be working with littler ones, ages 6-12. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I love that age range. ^___^
P.P.S. Am also building props for a local theater, and working tech-whatnot at another theatre this coming Sunday.
P.P.P.S I'm feeling like my life is very exciting right now.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Week Seven: A Journey
It was my seventeenth birthday. We had finished my birthday dinner, and had moved on to dessert, cheesecake.
My family came over to celebrate. Now, in this case (the broader use of the word) family meant my mom, Nay, Nessa, my dad, my grandma and pepe (maternal grandparents) my Aunt who was also my GoddessMother (not a biological aunt, but still an aunt nonetheless), and my GoddessFather and his partner. I was opening my birthday presents (books, wizard rock CD's, books, band t-shirts, books...) when my GoddessFather went out to his car and brought in his present. I had to shut my eyes as he brought it in, since it wasn't wrapped, but when I was told that I could open, there was a guitar sitting in front of me.
Let it be known, at this time, I didn't know one chord from another, I couldn't hold it correctly, I wasn't musically inclined, or even taking lessons.
But I had a guitar, and that was AWESOME.
That was April.
What happened next came naturally. I taught myself three chords and began to haltingly play a few easy songs. After playing more or less regularly for a few months, I got frustrated with not knowing how to play anything. All the songs I could play weren't what I wanted to play, and the songs that I actually wanted were far, far too hard for me.
So I wrote a song using the only chords I knew, in September.
That song is "It's Raining, Annie", a tribute to Banned Book Week and the book Annie On My Mind*.
I kept at playing, always referring back to a birthday note I'd gotten from one of my favorite bands which said "Learning a new instrument is hard. Just keep at it, and you'll be good in no time. Music is the best outlet, rockin' pwns!". Whenever I felt like I was floundering, I looked at it and pressed down a few more chords.
One day, I played until my fingers were so sore, I could barely type. It never got to the point where my fingers actually bled, like in the song "summer of '69" that I love so dearly, but they hurt.
I received my guitar almost two years ago. I didn't realize at that time that it would change my life, but it has.
Over the past two years, I've gone from having practically no confidence in my own musicality to really believing that I have the talent to not only sing, but play and write my own music.
This isn't to say that I'm just sitting here blowing my own horn, but more of just a look back and see how far I've come. I think it's a good idea to sit back sometimes, and just look at the past. Even though I've learned so much, I've still got so much more to go.
That's a pretty important metaphor for life in general, I think. No matter how much we learn, there's always something new. I'm not saying that you can't be happy with where you are, believe me, but just that there will be something new to discover...forever. And that is an AMAZING, wonderful thing.
~Whimsy
P.S. I wrote a new song, and I'm really proud of it. You can all go listen to it HERE. I wrote it for YOU ALL. ^__^
*In case you don't know, Annie On My Mind is a phenomenal lgbtq(etc) YA book.
My family came over to celebrate. Now, in this case (the broader use of the word) family meant my mom, Nay, Nessa, my dad, my grandma and pepe (maternal grandparents) my Aunt who was also my GoddessMother (not a biological aunt, but still an aunt nonetheless), and my GoddessFather and his partner. I was opening my birthday presents (books, wizard rock CD's, books, band t-shirts, books...) when my GoddessFather went out to his car and brought in his present. I had to shut my eyes as he brought it in, since it wasn't wrapped, but when I was told that I could open, there was a guitar sitting in front of me.
Let it be known, at this time, I didn't know one chord from another, I couldn't hold it correctly, I wasn't musically inclined, or even taking lessons.
But I had a guitar, and that was AWESOME.
That was April.
What happened next came naturally. I taught myself three chords and began to haltingly play a few easy songs. After playing more or less regularly for a few months, I got frustrated with not knowing how to play anything. All the songs I could play weren't what I wanted to play, and the songs that I actually wanted were far, far too hard for me.
So I wrote a song using the only chords I knew, in September.
That song is "It's Raining, Annie", a tribute to Banned Book Week and the book Annie On My Mind*.
I kept at playing, always referring back to a birthday note I'd gotten from one of my favorite bands which said "Learning a new instrument is hard. Just keep at it, and you'll be good in no time. Music is the best outlet, rockin' pwns!". Whenever I felt like I was floundering, I looked at it and pressed down a few more chords.
One day, I played until my fingers were so sore, I could barely type. It never got to the point where my fingers actually bled, like in the song "summer of '69" that I love so dearly, but they hurt.
I received my guitar almost two years ago. I didn't realize at that time that it would change my life, but it has.
Over the past two years, I've gone from having practically no confidence in my own musicality to really believing that I have the talent to not only sing, but play and write my own music.
This isn't to say that I'm just sitting here blowing my own horn, but more of just a look back and see how far I've come. I think it's a good idea to sit back sometimes, and just look at the past. Even though I've learned so much, I've still got so much more to go.
That's a pretty important metaphor for life in general, I think. No matter how much we learn, there's always something new. I'm not saying that you can't be happy with where you are, believe me, but just that there will be something new to discover...forever. And that is an AMAZING, wonderful thing.
~Whimsy
P.S. I wrote a new song, and I'm really proud of it. You can all go listen to it HERE. I wrote it for YOU ALL. ^__^
*In case you don't know, Annie On My Mind is a phenomenal lgbtq(etc) YA book.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Week Six: The Inner Workings Of Whimsy's Brain
As some of you may know, I take ASL* lessons with my sister. This past Sunday (Did I mention that the lessons are Sunday nights?) as we were talking/practicing/learning/talking about Doctor Who in sign, we got to talking about Jung personality types**, and out tutor sent us a link to go take the test ourselves.
Anyhow, long story short, I've been strongarming all my friends, family and cohorts*** into joining in and taking the test and sharing their results with me.
As it turns out, I am an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving) type. At some points, the blurb got me SPOT ON, like here:
and here:
and here:
but like most things, it's not a perfect fit. Like where it talks about ISFP's being "Flexible and laid back", and "most have a special affinity with babies...", it's not quite right. Nonetheless, if you want to read all about the supposed inner workings of my brain (which honestly is more accurate than not, or so I think), you can do so HERE.
Which brings me to what I really wanted to do with this blog post. Go HERE, take the test (yes it's long, but it's oh-so-interesting) and leave a comment with your type!
Part two!
CEU's.
For those who don't know, CEU's are Continuing Education Credits. My library has this program where you can sign up and take all these classes online in ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS. I'm thinking that I might end up doing that, so that's going to be fun!
In other news...My roof is leaking! HOORAY! Yes, indeed. With all the snow we've gotten (up here in the Northeast USA) my house is now leaking. It's been a crazy few days, trying to keep up with all the dripping and bucket-changing and wet-towel-drying, but I think we've got it under control...fingers crossed, eh?
I have a kinda-sorta-plan for next week's blog, so keep an eye out for that!
Off to create madness,
Whimsy
P.S. Just as I finished writing this, the dog sneezed so hard, she smacked her face into the floor. Poor baby.
*American Sign Language for those who don't know.
**Yes, it's hard to talk about this all in ASL, that's where finger-spelling and actually TALKING OUT LOUD comes into play. O__O
***I just wanted to use the word...I'll admit it.
Anyhow, long story short, I've been strongarming all my friends, family and cohorts*** into joining in and taking the test and sharing their results with me.
As it turns out, I am an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving) type. At some points, the blurb got me SPOT ON, like here:
ISFPs tend to be quiet and reserved, and difficult to get to know well. They hold back their ideas and opinions except from those who they are closest to. They are likely to be kind, gentle and sensitive in their dealings with others.
and here:
ISFPs celebrate their own uniqueness, as well as everybody else's, and don't appreciate being judged harshly for their differences.
and here:
ISFPs are able to get along with most of the other personality types, although they tend to be reserved around those they don't know well. They will enjoy spending time with others who share their interests, and who understand and accept the ISFP for who they are. They greatly value their space and autonomy, and appreciate other's respect for that.
but like most things, it's not a perfect fit. Like where it talks about ISFP's being "Flexible and laid back", and "most have a special affinity with babies...", it's not quite right. Nonetheless, if you want to read all about the supposed inner workings of my brain (which honestly is more accurate than not, or so I think), you can do so HERE.
Which brings me to what I really wanted to do with this blog post. Go HERE, take the test (yes it's long, but it's oh-so-interesting) and leave a comment with your type!
Part two!
CEU's.
For those who don't know, CEU's are Continuing Education Credits. My library has this program where you can sign up and take all these classes online in ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS. I'm thinking that I might end up doing that, so that's going to be fun!
In other news...My roof is leaking! HOORAY! Yes, indeed. With all the snow we've gotten (up here in the Northeast USA) my house is now leaking. It's been a crazy few days, trying to keep up with all the dripping and bucket-changing and wet-towel-drying, but I think we've got it under control...fingers crossed, eh?
I have a kinda-sorta-plan for next week's blog, so keep an eye out for that!
Off to create madness,
Whimsy
P.S. Just as I finished writing this, the dog sneezed so hard, she smacked her face into the floor. Poor baby.
*American Sign Language for those who don't know.
**Yes, it's hard to talk about this all in ASL, that's where finger-spelling and actually TALKING OUT LOUD comes into play. O__O
***I just wanted to use the word...I'll admit it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Week Five: Big Exciting News!
Last week, I alluded to Big Exciting News. Well, my friends, I have confirmation on ONE of them.
Very, very longtime blog readers of mine* (we're talkin' March 2010, here) will recall my talking about True Colors. For those of you who don't want to go searching through pages upon pages of blog entries, or are just too lazy to read another article (linked HERE and HERE), True Colors is a conference for LGBTQ(insertlettershere) youth. It's THE largest one of it's kind in the USA. I've gone for the past three years, and honestly, it's one of the highlights of my year. Think of an explosion of rainbows and young people and happiness. For. Two. Full. Days.
What the news is, not only am I going to be going to TC (for the fourth time), but I will also will be presenting. The thing that I'm most excited about is this: I WILL GET A PRESENTER'S LANYARD. Seriously, nothing is cooler than that.
What am I presenting, you ask? Why, my family and I have a theatre business, and we'll be doing theatre games. I am beyond excited about this. You have no idea.
We're also sending out some other proposals, so I'll be talking about them as soon as I have confirmation on that. I just feel like it's...maybe jinxing it to talk about it on here without getting confirmed first.
In other news, the snow here has reached a level of ABOVE MY HEAD. I am not short, either. I love snow, and I love LOTS of snow (I am a child, a very young child)and I ADORE making forts. Therefore, it was only natural that a giant pile of snow would become a fort/igloo/cave.
I've also been playing my guitar more lately. I've gone back to some of my childhood songs. You know, the ones that you play and, they just remind you of being seven or eight years old and spending your autumns at the local Renissance faire. Just me? Ahh, well then...
Anyway, sitting around playing "The Wild Rover", "Whiskey In The Jar" and "Scarborough Faire" is just a great feeling.
So, with that, I leave you.
If you haven't seen it yet, please go HERE and tell me what you think of my brandy-new FAQ.
If you have questions about whatever, post 'em below! I'll be happy to answer!
Hope you're having a great week five!
~Whimsy
*Or people who know me in a non-bloggy way.
Very, very longtime blog readers of mine* (we're talkin' March 2010, here) will recall my talking about True Colors. For those of you who don't want to go searching through pages upon pages of blog entries, or are just too lazy to read another article (linked HERE and HERE), True Colors is a conference for LGBTQ(insertlettershere) youth. It's THE largest one of it's kind in the USA. I've gone for the past three years, and honestly, it's one of the highlights of my year. Think of an explosion of rainbows and young people and happiness. For. Two. Full. Days.
What the news is, not only am I going to be going to TC (for the fourth time), but I will also will be presenting. The thing that I'm most excited about is this: I WILL GET A PRESENTER'S LANYARD. Seriously, nothing is cooler than that.
What am I presenting, you ask? Why, my family and I have a theatre business, and we'll be doing theatre games. I am beyond excited about this. You have no idea.
We're also sending out some other proposals, so I'll be talking about them as soon as I have confirmation on that. I just feel like it's...maybe jinxing it to talk about it on here without getting confirmed first.
In other news, the snow here has reached a level of ABOVE MY HEAD. I am not short, either. I love snow, and I love LOTS of snow (I am a child, a very young child)and I ADORE making forts. Therefore, it was only natural that a giant pile of snow would become a fort/igloo/cave.
I've also been playing my guitar more lately. I've gone back to some of my childhood songs. You know, the ones that you play and, they just remind you of being seven or eight years old and spending your autumns at the local Renissance faire. Just me? Ahh, well then...
Anyway, sitting around playing "The Wild Rover", "Whiskey In The Jar" and "Scarborough Faire" is just a great feeling.
So, with that, I leave you.
If you haven't seen it yet, please go HERE and tell me what you think of my brandy-new FAQ.
If you have questions about whatever, post 'em below! I'll be happy to answer!
Hope you're having a great week five!
~Whimsy
*Or people who know me in a non-bloggy way.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Week Four: "Let a REAL MAN park the boat."
Brace yourself, my friends, for a tale of danger, hysterical laughter, melodrama and stupidity.
Last year, in the spring, it rained like WOAH. Now, I know that's not the most succinct sentence to begin on, but it's pretty crucial for the rest of the story.
Near my house, there's a brook. It's about waist deep at it's best, and about mayyyybe ten feet wide? Anyway, all that really matters is that it's SMALL, and pretty non-threatening. And then...it RAINED. It rained SO MUCH that my sister and I decided to take the canoe out, and paddle through the backyard and the woods.
At this point, the brook has gone from small-and-non-threatening to LARGE CURRENT OF WATER FLOWING REALLY FAST IN THE MIDDLE OF A FREAKING LAKE IN THE WOODS.
And so, we paddle. Nessa turns to me and suggests that we paddle across the DANGEROUS CURRENT*.
My reaction: O_____O
Her reaction: -___- "Live a little."
My reaction: *trepidation*
And so we struck out across the waters. Our intent was to reach the other side, turn around, and return to safe land, but about halfway across, the fast-moving stream caught up the back end of the boat, and we started to spin and drift downriver, away from the house and we kept going faster.
I think right now is a good time to mention that at the end of this stream, there's a waterfall. A big, huge, 8 foot PLUS waterfall.
Commence the panic.
I grab onto a small bit of tree in the middle of the overflowing river and clutch it, all the while babbling,
"Whimsy McWhimsysen**, age seventeen, was found dead in the brook this week. She is survived by her mothers, and her father. We remember her as a lover of theater, and a compassionate soul. In lieu of flowers, donations can be sent to The Harry Potter Alliance."
Yes, that's right, folks. I was writing my obituary. In the middle of a river. In a canoe. This brilliance was eclipsed by me, proclaiming that "I don't want to be the next spaghetti dinner".
There is SOME logic behind this. You see, if you live in a teeny tiny town like mine, when somebody dies, say, the fire dept will throw a spaghetti (or barbeque, or whatever) dinner as a fundraiser. That's what I WAS going for, but HELL NAW. Madness instead. WOO!
So after much deliberation, we decide to just go with the flow*** and try to go down the river, and veer off into the flooded woods. Thank heavens, we managed it. So, we float into the next-door neighbor's yard, and by extention his pond. It's pretty calm in there, so we head for an island that's been created from the swollen waters.
The island has a neat little dent in it, perfect to park the boat in. Nessa steers i, and JUST misses the wee cove (really, there's nothing at all wrong with how the boat is, keep this in mind). She gets out of the boat and onto the land. I grab the paddle and shove off from the land, effectivly abandoning her with the parting shot "Geez, WOMEN. Let a REAL MAN park the boat."****
...I know. What can I say?
So unbeknownst to me, the current was stronger than I had expected. The back of the boat starts twisting away, and I'm about ready to go back into my Twisting Spiral Of Doom And Panic About Spaghetti Dinners (TM) again. Luckily for the boat, me and my sanity, Nessa grabbed the boat and dragged it back up on the bank, saving my panicky self.
The rest of the day went without incident, but the events that I've mentioned are more than sufficient to provide the adventure aspect.
And THUS ends my story of melodrama.
All aspects of this story are %110 genuine. Really. Even my speech about my obituary.
OH! ALSO, I have created a new "about me" page. Go and check it out HERE and then if you have any questions that I DIDN'T answer, post 'em in a comment.
That's about all for this time, happy BOW'11ing! You guys are doing really well with the blogging every week thing. Kudos there!
Off to go work on an exciting new venture (which you'll unDOUBTEDLY hear about soon, so hold on, y'all),
~Whimsy
P.S. If you haven't seen it already, BOW'11 has a page of it's own. You can check it out HERE, and tell me what you think!
*Nessa is RIGHT NOW, in fact holding with her opinion that it was not, in fact dangerous. I'm running this by her, so I don't misquote her.
**Clearly, this was not the name I used, but let it be known, the rest of this is totally accurate.
***Dear god, I am WAY to happy about that bad pun.
****You all know I am very much not mysogynistic, BUT I do poke fun at those who are.
Last year, in the spring, it rained like WOAH. Now, I know that's not the most succinct sentence to begin on, but it's pretty crucial for the rest of the story.
Near my house, there's a brook. It's about waist deep at it's best, and about mayyyybe ten feet wide? Anyway, all that really matters is that it's SMALL, and pretty non-threatening. And then...it RAINED. It rained SO MUCH that my sister and I decided to take the canoe out, and paddle through the backyard and the woods.
At this point, the brook has gone from small-and-non-threatening to LARGE CURRENT OF WATER FLOWING REALLY FAST IN THE MIDDLE OF A FREAKING LAKE IN THE WOODS.
And so, we paddle. Nessa turns to me and suggests that we paddle across the DANGEROUS CURRENT*.
My reaction: O_____O
Her reaction: -___- "Live a little."
My reaction: *trepidation*
And so we struck out across the waters. Our intent was to reach the other side, turn around, and return to safe land, but about halfway across, the fast-moving stream caught up the back end of the boat, and we started to spin and drift downriver, away from the house and we kept going faster.
I think right now is a good time to mention that at the end of this stream, there's a waterfall. A big, huge, 8 foot PLUS waterfall.
Commence the panic.
I grab onto a small bit of tree in the middle of the overflowing river and clutch it, all the while babbling,
"Whimsy McWhimsysen**, age seventeen, was found dead in the brook this week. She is survived by her mothers, and her father. We remember her as a lover of theater, and a compassionate soul. In lieu of flowers, donations can be sent to The Harry Potter Alliance."
Yes, that's right, folks. I was writing my obituary. In the middle of a river. In a canoe. This brilliance was eclipsed by me, proclaiming that "I don't want to be the next spaghetti dinner".
There is SOME logic behind this. You see, if you live in a teeny tiny town like mine, when somebody dies, say, the fire dept will throw a spaghetti (or barbeque, or whatever) dinner as a fundraiser. That's what I WAS going for, but HELL NAW. Madness instead. WOO!
So after much deliberation, we decide to just go with the flow*** and try to go down the river, and veer off into the flooded woods. Thank heavens, we managed it. So, we float into the next-door neighbor's yard, and by extention his pond. It's pretty calm in there, so we head for an island that's been created from the swollen waters.
The island has a neat little dent in it, perfect to park the boat in. Nessa steers i, and JUST misses the wee cove (really, there's nothing at all wrong with how the boat is, keep this in mind). She gets out of the boat and onto the land. I grab the paddle and shove off from the land, effectivly abandoning her with the parting shot "Geez, WOMEN. Let a REAL MAN park the boat."****
...I know. What can I say?
So unbeknownst to me, the current was stronger than I had expected. The back of the boat starts twisting away, and I'm about ready to go back into my Twisting Spiral Of Doom And Panic About Spaghetti Dinners (TM) again. Luckily for the boat, me and my sanity, Nessa grabbed the boat and dragged it back up on the bank, saving my panicky self.
The rest of the day went without incident, but the events that I've mentioned are more than sufficient to provide the adventure aspect.
And THUS ends my story of melodrama.
All aspects of this story are %110 genuine. Really. Even my speech about my obituary.
OH! ALSO, I have created a new "about me" page. Go and check it out HERE and then if you have any questions that I DIDN'T answer, post 'em in a comment.
That's about all for this time, happy BOW'11ing! You guys are doing really well with the blogging every week thing. Kudos there!
Off to go work on an exciting new venture (which you'll unDOUBTEDLY hear about soon, so hold on, y'all),
~Whimsy
P.S. If you haven't seen it already, BOW'11 has a page of it's own. You can check it out HERE, and tell me what you think!
*Nessa is RIGHT NOW, in fact holding with her opinion that it was not, in fact dangerous. I'm running this by her, so I don't misquote her.
**Clearly, this was not the name I used, but let it be known, the rest of this is totally accurate.
***Dear god, I am WAY to happy about that bad pun.
****You all know I am very much not mysogynistic, BUT I do poke fun at those who are.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Week Three: A CHALLENGE!
I just finished reading Magic's Pawn, Magic's Promise and Magic's Price, all by Mercedes Lackey. So. Freaking. Good. O___O
This doesn't happen much, but I knew pretty much as soon as I started reading the first book that I HAD. TO. HAVE. THEM.
I have griped (vocally, and often) about the lack of LGBT characters in fantasy novels. The Last Herald-Mage (LHM) books are indeed fantasy with a gay protagonist. YES! Oh, thank whatever-you-want-to-thank. Anyway, it's just nice to have a main character who's not your normal "hero(or anti-hero) goes on journey, finds self worth, destiny and opposite gendered lover along the way" type.
Seriously, if you haven't read the LHM books, then do so NOW. It was to the point where I was walking around with my nose in the book so far that I nearly walked into a wall. Maybe more than one.
Anyway, in other news my life is going well. Reading a lot lately, which is good. I had gotten away from reading tons, mostly due to watching un-godly amounts of Doctor Who and Torchwood (I REGRET NOTHING. SUCH PHENOMENAL TELEVISION.) and am back on my usual book-crazed path, and with a vengeance at that.
Because of that, I've been thinking about fictional characters lately, and not just in the "hey, I really love Remus Lupin, 'cuz he's a cool guy" kind of way. No, more in the "these characters are fictional people who I grew up with. Who I admire, in some cases."
So, I invite all of you to make a list of your top 5/10/20/30/you pick the number of favorite fictional characters, what books/movies/tv shows/plays/whatever that they're from, and why they're so cool. Why they stuck with you.
Here's mine, in no particular order.
1: Arthur Dent.
He's the last human from earth. He belongs to Douglas Adams, the creator of the fantastic Hitchhiker's Guide books. Arthur (by the way, having a hell of a time trying to spell his name properly) is just an ordinary guy, living his ordinary life and then all of a sudden, WHAM. He's off on a multi-dimensional space adventure, trying desperately to keep his mind, his towel and Ford Prefect by his side. What I like about his is that he's very HUMAN, he rolls with the punches (something that I don't do that well, for the record) and he tends to do what any normal person would do after being thrown into some very abnormal situations.
2: Holly Short.
She's from the Artemis Fowl books, written by Eoin Colfer. Holly is one of the toughest female characters that I know, and she's not even a HUMAN. She doesn't do the typical I-Am-A-Woman-So-I-Need-Saving-All-The-Time schtick, and I love her for that. She's incredibly smart, creative, compassionate, and she doesn't take any nonsense. That being said, she's also not perfect, like some authors can tend to do when creating a main character. She doesn't do well with authority (a trait we share) and tends to do things her own way, even if they stray a bit over the line of lawful. She tries to do her best, no matter the circumstance.
3: Paul. (Just googled it, and he hasn't got a last name. O__O)
Paul is the main character in Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan, a book which I absolutely ADORE (and if you know me, I've probably talked your ear off about it, and tried to make you read it). There could be a whole blog post on why I like the book, but this is focused on the character. He's very whimsical, sweet, open minded, and yes, he is gay. I think the best thing about Paul is that he's so supportive of his friends, whoever they are. He's also quite the romantic, creative, and he marches to the beat of his own drum, no matter who is judging him.
4: Jacky Faber.
Opinionated, liberal-minded, gutsy, and overall one of the strongest (and still very much HUMAN) female characters I have had the pleasure of reading. Jacky is from L.A. Meyer's Bloody Jack books. I mean, the girl is a PIRATE...amongst other things. For living in the 1800's, she is about as rebel-tastic as it gets. She's impulsive, but clever, and the way she will always stick up for her friends, and for the anyone who's weaker and smaller than she is. She starts out as the lowest of the low (as a street rat) and works her way up the ladder through her own guile and wit. Did I mention that she's British? Yeah.
5: Pippi Longstocking
Pippi Longstocking, by Astrid Lindgren is THE quintessential book about an unschooler EVER. (In my very biased opinion, that is.) She may be about 10, but that girl is a genius. The best bit about her, is she will give it back to whoever dishes it out, be it police, a schoolteacher, or whoever. She knows who she is, what she wants, and isn't afraid to go and get it. She's self-sufficient, creative and more than a bit crazy. She does things her own way, and 9 times out of ten, it ends up turning out okay. Despite the fact that these books are clearly written for young kids, (and translated from the original Swedish, which makes for interesting grammar sometimes) Pippi is fantastic.
Honestly, I can't pick who I want to do next*, so I'll leave it at five, for now.
Maybe I'll do this again, sometime. There are just SO MANY I'd like to discuss, and I don't want to give you a wall of text. ^___^
SO, If you made it through to the bottom of this, I challenge you to do your own. I stuck to books for mine, but that's just ME.
So with that, I leave you. I have to go dig out my copies of Hitchhiker's Guide, Artemis Fowl, Boy Meets Boy, Bloody Jack and Pippi Longstocking. I have reading to do.
Yours in books,
Whimsy
P.S.
If you have a book that I MUST READ, tell me. I'm always looking for new books.\
P.P.S. If you've read any of these books, let me know in a comment what you thought. I love comments. (I mean, you don't know how excited I get when I read that I have a new one. It's hilarious.)
*The list includes,
Jim Tanner (Treasure Island), Puck (Midsummer Night's Dream), Roger Davis (RENT), Joon (Benny and Joon), Severus Snape (Harry Potter), Alanna (Song Of The Lioness), Daine (The Immortals), Lani Garver (What Happened To Lani Garver), Meg Murry (A Wrinkle In Time), Jazz (Define 'Normal'), Jo March (Little Women) among others...
Also, I tried to keep it to ONE character from each book series. That's why there's not a TON of HP characters on there.
This doesn't happen much, but I knew pretty much as soon as I started reading the first book that I HAD. TO. HAVE. THEM.
I have griped (vocally, and often) about the lack of LGBT characters in fantasy novels. The Last Herald-Mage (LHM) books are indeed fantasy with a gay protagonist. YES! Oh, thank whatever-you-want-to-thank. Anyway, it's just nice to have a main character who's not your normal "hero(or anti-hero) goes on journey, finds self worth, destiny and opposite gendered lover along the way" type.
Seriously, if you haven't read the LHM books, then do so NOW. It was to the point where I was walking around with my nose in the book so far that I nearly walked into a wall. Maybe more than one.
Anyway, in other news my life is going well. Reading a lot lately, which is good. I had gotten away from reading tons, mostly due to watching un-godly amounts of Doctor Who and Torchwood (I REGRET NOTHING. SUCH PHENOMENAL TELEVISION.) and am back on my usual book-crazed path, and with a vengeance at that.
Because of that, I've been thinking about fictional characters lately, and not just in the "hey, I really love Remus Lupin, 'cuz he's a cool guy" kind of way. No, more in the "these characters are fictional people who I grew up with. Who I admire, in some cases."
So, I invite all of you to make a list of your top 5/10/20/30/you pick the number of favorite fictional characters, what books/movies/tv shows/plays/whatever that they're from, and why they're so cool. Why they stuck with you.
Here's mine, in no particular order.
1: Arthur Dent.
He's the last human from earth. He belongs to Douglas Adams, the creator of the fantastic Hitchhiker's Guide books. Arthur (by the way, having a hell of a time trying to spell his name properly) is just an ordinary guy, living his ordinary life and then all of a sudden, WHAM. He's off on a multi-dimensional space adventure, trying desperately to keep his mind, his towel and Ford Prefect by his side. What I like about his is that he's very HUMAN, he rolls with the punches (something that I don't do that well, for the record) and he tends to do what any normal person would do after being thrown into some very abnormal situations.
2: Holly Short.
She's from the Artemis Fowl books, written by Eoin Colfer. Holly is one of the toughest female characters that I know, and she's not even a HUMAN. She doesn't do the typical I-Am-A-Woman-So-I-Need-Saving-All-The-Time schtick, and I love her for that. She's incredibly smart, creative, compassionate, and she doesn't take any nonsense. That being said, she's also not perfect, like some authors can tend to do when creating a main character. She doesn't do well with authority (a trait we share) and tends to do things her own way, even if they stray a bit over the line of lawful. She tries to do her best, no matter the circumstance.
3: Paul. (Just googled it, and he hasn't got a last name. O__O)
Paul is the main character in Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan, a book which I absolutely ADORE (and if you know me, I've probably talked your ear off about it, and tried to make you read it). There could be a whole blog post on why I like the book, but this is focused on the character. He's very whimsical, sweet, open minded, and yes, he is gay. I think the best thing about Paul is that he's so supportive of his friends, whoever they are. He's also quite the romantic, creative, and he marches to the beat of his own drum, no matter who is judging him.
4: Jacky Faber.
Opinionated, liberal-minded, gutsy, and overall one of the strongest (and still very much HUMAN) female characters I have had the pleasure of reading. Jacky is from L.A. Meyer's Bloody Jack books. I mean, the girl is a PIRATE...amongst other things. For living in the 1800's, she is about as rebel-tastic as it gets. She's impulsive, but clever, and the way she will always stick up for her friends, and for the anyone who's weaker and smaller than she is. She starts out as the lowest of the low (as a street rat) and works her way up the ladder through her own guile and wit. Did I mention that she's British? Yeah.
5: Pippi Longstocking
Pippi Longstocking, by Astrid Lindgren is THE quintessential book about an unschooler EVER. (In my very biased opinion, that is.) She may be about 10, but that girl is a genius. The best bit about her, is she will give it back to whoever dishes it out, be it police, a schoolteacher, or whoever. She knows who she is, what she wants, and isn't afraid to go and get it. She's self-sufficient, creative and more than a bit crazy. She does things her own way, and 9 times out of ten, it ends up turning out okay. Despite the fact that these books are clearly written for young kids, (and translated from the original Swedish, which makes for interesting grammar sometimes) Pippi is fantastic.
Honestly, I can't pick who I want to do next*, so I'll leave it at five, for now.
Maybe I'll do this again, sometime. There are just SO MANY I'd like to discuss, and I don't want to give you a wall of text. ^___^
SO, If you made it through to the bottom of this, I challenge you to do your own. I stuck to books for mine, but that's just ME.
So with that, I leave you. I have to go dig out my copies of Hitchhiker's Guide, Artemis Fowl, Boy Meets Boy, Bloody Jack and Pippi Longstocking. I have reading to do.
Yours in books,
Whimsy
P.S.
If you have a book that I MUST READ, tell me. I'm always looking for new books.\
P.P.S. If you've read any of these books, let me know in a comment what you thought. I love comments. (I mean, you don't know how excited I get when I read that I have a new one. It's hilarious.)
*The list includes,
Jim Tanner (Treasure Island), Puck (Midsummer Night's Dream), Roger Davis (RENT), Joon (Benny and Joon), Severus Snape (Harry Potter), Alanna (Song Of The Lioness), Daine (The Immortals), Lani Garver (What Happened To Lani Garver), Meg Murry (A Wrinkle In Time), Jazz (Define 'Normal'), Jo March (Little Women) among others...
Also, I tried to keep it to ONE character from each book series. That's why there's not a TON of HP characters on there.
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