Forged in fire (aka, what doesn’t kill you…)

…makes you stronger.

And, ok. Fine. So the title is perhaps a tad melodramatic (you should be used to this by now. I regret nothing. 😉 )

Basically, this blog post was born out of minor over-use knee injury (note: I said minor) which, nonetheless, caused a bit of a freak-out on my part as a) I’ve never experienced anything like this in my knees (neck and back pain, yes. Knees, no.) and b) I’m a ballroom dancer. My knees are important. So are my feet.

So I find myself in the process of strength-training, since I don’t have the kind of strength in my knees that I need. And let me tell ya: the morning after the gym is pretty uncomfortable. As is the day after that. And I’m not used to it. I’m not used to using those muscles in that way. It will come, once my body’s used to it, but in the interim it’s hard. And I might be a bit of a wuss.

But there’s a larger picture here. Let me put it this way:

I AM A DANCER.

It’s a relatively recent discovery (though apparently my subconscious has been screaming this for years…) and it fits like a glove. I can talk all day about how much I love it, but in the end the only way to express it is to get on the dance floor and show you.

 

 

And to dance the way I want to dance – with strength, precision, ease and grace – will take time and effort and training. But because I love it, I’m going to do it. I mean, there really isn’t another option here. My instructor’s stuck with me, heh. This is too much fun, too much joy, too much wonderful.

So in the immortal words of…somebody-who-isn’t-me:

Suck it up, princess.

 

::Exits stage left, dancing a samba::  

The Sunshine Thingy (aka, silly questions)

Righty then. I was tagged by S. Hunter Nisbet to do the Sunshine Thingy. Also known as answering silly questions and providing some of my own. It’s a blog meme. So I’ll be tagging some suckers lucky lovelies to carry on the meme lest we all lose our way in the mists of the interwebs and what-else-have-you.

Let the games begin!

 

  1. Dost thou speaketh any other languages? If so, what is thine go-to phrase when people say “Ooh, say something in that language!”

I speaketh 3.5. Or, 2 + .5 +.5. Ish. I’m bilingual in English & French, speak a very rusty Spanish (I can get by) and a teensy bit of Russian. I know the Russian is still there, but it’s veeeeeeeeeeeeery rusty. Favourite phrase with which to impress people in Russian? “я немного говорю по русски” “Ya nyemnoga govoryou po-russki” “I don’t speak much Russian”. This is usually followed by “Вы говорите по-английски?” “Vi govoritye po-angliskii?” “Do you speak English?” 😀

Useful. Dat’s me. 😉

 

  1. Hast thine car ever run out of gas? What did you do?

Nyet. I ride a magic carpet. What do you take me for? Next!

 

  1. Didst thou go to university, and what was thy major or focus?

Went to uni. Did a BA in English Lit with a minor in Russian (aha! you say), then did a Masters of Library and Information Studies. I was going to be a librarian. It didn’t work out. Now I’m back in school doing an MLit because I want to teach English Lit. And I focus on the medieval stuff, though I am forced out of sheer necessity (i.e. I need the credits) to take a summer course about a bloody pretentious git of a modern playwright. After this course is over, he and I are never, ever, EVER getting back together.

 

  1. What is thine starter Pokemon?

I don’t speak Pokemon. I speak Myst and Carmen Sandiego. Still putting the “miss” in “misdemeanor” as I go. 😉

 

  1. Black thumb, or digit of greenest emerald?

Black. Only give me your plants if you want to murder them.  >:)

 

  1. In a world where thy eyebrows were, in fact, long enough to reach the brim of thine hat, dost thou trim them or let them be ala Gandalf?

Hmmmm….trim them. They’d just get in my tea.

 

  1. What was the first chapter book thou ever read, and why?

What. You want to think that far back? I has no clue. None. So to weasel my way around, the first chapter book I remember reading is The Secret of the Old Clock. NANCY DREW FTW.

 

  1. How many poems can thou recite at will?

1.5. By which I mean, I can recite parts of a poem. Macavity the Mystery Cat by T.S. Eliot (screw The Wasteland, and yes I just said that and no, I don’t regret it) is sheer joy. As the threatening rhyme in the opening chapters of The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson. That one must be recited with a thick Scottish accent. I do my best. *cough*

 

  1. If I say we must do something for the good of the many, not the few, thy answer will be:

Nyarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh

 

  1. What is knee high by the fourth of July?

Apparently the answer is corn. And yes, I googled that. No, I have no shame.

 

…and how would you answer? Comment if you feel so inclined!

As for the lucky ducks chosen to carry on the flame…I challenge Elaine Witt Nicole Wilson  Maggie Maxwell and Outtamylaine

I salute you all and ply you with cookies and tea. Your questions are below. You know the rest.

::cracks knuckles::

 

  1. You are stranded on a desert island. You are allowed one book, one CD, and one movie. What do you take?
  2. Favourite season? Why?
  3. Coffee fanatic or tea fiend? With milk/cream and sugar or without?
  4. What one place would you visit with that magical plane ticket? Why?
  5. Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, or Harry Potter? ::evil laugh::
  6. Black Widow or Catwoman? Explain.
  7. Milk chocolate or sinfully dark?
  8. Smaug: justified in defending his hoard against thieving dwarves or homicidal maniac?
  9. Dragons or krakens?
  10. You find a gold ring buried in your backyard. What do you do?

The stories we tell: a love letter to books and writing

Well. On the list of things I’m supposed to be doing, blogging isn’t one of them.

Pfft.

 

Team Spike, yo.
Team Spike, yo.

 

It’s the end-ish of August so academia is moving rather more slowly at the moment because my brain is tired and just wants to be creative. So to that end: a blog post which is a love letter to stories that have blown my mind.

There are two books that spring to mind, both of which are recent discoveries (I’ll save my Tolkien love letter for another day, heh): Deathless by Catherynne Valente and Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge.

deathless-cruelbeauty

Deathless had me the moment I realized it was about Koschei the Deathless*. It’s twisted and dark and blood-streaked – and utterly ALIVE. And the prose is stunning and perfectly captures the Russian voice. Cruel Beauty drew me initially because of the cover** and the more I stared at it, the more I perused it, the more I was drawn into it. Anything that has echoes of Greek mythology, Beauty and the Beast (and a host of other fairy tales) and even Til We Have Faces*** by C.S. Lewis is my cup of tea. So I bought it and devoured it in a day. It’s dark and utterly exquisite. I’m rereading it now and as enamoured as ever. Again, beautiful prose.

So what’s my point? My point is that a) both these books blew my fracking mind and you need to read them now, and b) I hit the end of both and thought I want to tell stories like that.

The stories that sweep you up and take you places and leave you emotionally compromised even as you’re reaching for page 1 all over again.  The stories that linger. The stories of love that are complicated yet never in doubt. These are the stories I want to tell.

So when I’m tired and blech and it feels too much like work, I remember my dream. I remember why I’m doing this.

And then everything makes sense all over again.

 

Far vel!

 

*and if you don’t know who that is, hie thee to Wikipedia and educate thyself in the beauties of Russian folklore.

**because let’s face it, it’s the cover that launched a thousand ships. Seriously. SERIOUSLY.

***And if you haven’t read Til We Have Faces you need to rethink your life.