MFM: Polaris

I cross my yard in the early morning air, pausing to wiggle my toes amidst sharp blades of grass and grainy clumps of dirt. I look up—instinctively, reflexively—searching or stories and magic twinkling against their dark backdrop, just barely out of reach. Polaris shines brighter than them all: the night’s lighthouse, guiding people home for eons.

The moon shines down in spotlights, tracking me as I spin in the grass below. I nearly slip from the dew on my makeshift dancefloor. Still, I spin faster, until the stars are streaks of silver above. Faster, until the swirling air feels like it could lift me off the ground. Faster, until I’m stumbling over my giggles and laughter and can’t spin any longer.

I close my eyes and imagine the big dipper tipping and showering me with stardust. I dance with fragments of the universe until they fade in the glowing embers of the sun. The warmth of dawn melts the cosmos to my skin, and I am one with the universe.

Micro Fiction Monday: A World of Magic (BEDS 005)

I live in a world where magic exists. When I was thirteen, I was presented with a choice—continue to live in complete mediocrity, or move to the place where animated movies are set and fairy tales are inspired by.

Needless to say, I chose the latter, and my life became an adventure. I have ridden on broomsticks and magic carpets, I have fought dragons and danced with princes and learned that once you sprinkle pixie dust on something, in never comes out.

The world is not without its dangers, of course. I have scars from close encounters with daggers and swords. Falling from flight often leads to a concussion, and dragons are far scarier than they are mystical. Many people would say that leaving the world I know, leaving my home, is not worth the life of adventure I live now.

I would disagree. Sometimes, the “home” you thought you had is nothing but another scar. I have mastered this world, I have grown into it. It is no longer the realm of fairy tales, but of reality.

Now, this world of magic is my home, and it’s the people I’ve met that have made it so.

Review: Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

"I think we ought to live happily ever after." - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle

I was introduced to this story first throuh the Studio Ghibli animated film. Although confusing at first, it's earned its place in my heart as one of my all-time favourite movies. Once I discovered it was based on a book, that got added to my TBR so freaking fast, and after putting it off for forever, I finally got around to buying it and giving it a readthrough.

Howl's Moving Castle follows Sophie, a young hat maker who gets cursed by the Witch of the Waste and is turned into an old woman, unable to tell anyone she is actually under a spell. After running away from home, so as not to cause confusion or fear, she turns to the mysterious moving castle, and the wizard Howl who owns it. There, she strikes a deal with the demon Calcifer--break his contract with Howl, and he'll break the spell the Witch put on her.

Although Howl is well known for eating the hearts of young girls, Sophie soon learns the rumours running wild aren't as true as she believed--but his contract with the fire demon is much more complex and mysterious than she originally anticipated. On top of it all, things are never very ordinary around the castle--from a door that opens to four different places, to a magic scarecrow following them across the hills of Ingary. Sophie must navigate through this world of magic, spells, and curses, if she ever wants to return to her true self.

The problem I have with any book-to-movie or book-to-TV adaptation is that I have a big tendency to prefer the version I experience first, and Howl's Moving Castle seems to be no exception. One of the only reasons I kept reading was my love for the movie. (Another was that I was too far into it and didn't have time to read through another book before my review was due WELP.)

Don't get me wrong, though--the world was just as magical as the movie portrayed it, for which I was grateful. They don't often go into too much detail or backstory about the world, and just sort of let you take the reigns and run with it. Heavy world building is what normally turns me away from the fantasy genre, so I like that a book with a premise so highly dependent on fantastic elements is able to make the world come alive without having to go into the whole history of how it all began. That much, at least, the book did right.

This version of the story failed me, though. The things that I found most interesting--namely, Howl's history and background in Wales--wasn't explored anywhere near as much as I thought they should have been. I wanted to know how he found Ingary, why he left Wales, what form magic takes in our world. Instead, we got no explanation--we just had to accept that that was Howl's history and move on, with little more detail or answers. 

Meanwhile, my favourite bits that were included were sort of left up in the air until the last minute. Sohpie and Howl's relationship barely seemed to progress at all until the final few chapters, until suddenly Sophie was jealous and they were in love. I got absolutely no indication of Howl or anyone knowing of the curse, and quite frankly the appearance of her family towards the end was just kind of random. I did love Michael's relationship with Martha, and enjoyed watching as that progressed on the sidelines. But that was about the only saving grace for me.

I don't know. I feel like this book had so much potential, but as much as I loved the movie, the book just didn't give me the same feeling.

Final rating: 2.8

Until later,

- Justyne

Review: On the Other Side by Carrie Hope Fletcher

"I've never been able to figure it out, but your mother had a word for it.""And what was that?""Magic."- Carrie Hope Fletcher, On the Other Side

Evie Snow is 82 when she passes away peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family and loved ones. When she wakes up, she's 27 again, and the door to her apartment--her own personal heaven--is locked. To open it, she has to lighten her soul of the burden of a lifetime's worth of secrets she's kept hidden from her children over the years. Revealing these secrets from the Great Beyond, though, means revisiting one magical year where everything was perfect--and the man that she was never meant to be with.

I reviewed Carrie's first book, All I Know Now, shortly after its release last year. Since that one was nonfiction, I had no idea what reading this book--her first work of fiction--would work out. It sounded intriguing, and I was very, very excited to read through it!

If there was ever a book that best encompassed the concept of magical realism, it's this one. The supernatural elements of this book are sudden and spaced out in such a way that it never fails to catch you off guard, even as you reach the finale. The sentences that start out as metaphors end up being literal, which make for a very quirky fantasy. There often seems to be no rhyme, reason, or rules to how this magic works--like Carrie summoned her imagination and let it take the reins whenever it had the urge. It's not a method I would recommend, necessarily--but I didn't dislike it. It gave the story a certain unique charm that I don't normally see in the books I pick up.

Carrie has stated herself that she made an effort to create a timeless setting. She avoided mention of any technology beyond the realm of cars and animated movies. I can see the longterm benefit of this decision, but I honestly feel like she could've benefitted more from picking a timeline and identifying it from the beginning. It would've given the setting a lot more character--because as it stands, the setting is just a dull backdrop behind extraordinary characters.

Speaking of--Carrie is very good at portraying her characters fully in fewer words. She did a lot of backstory, though, which wasn't always needed, and was written in a way that sometimes just dragged the story on longer than necessary.

Overall, the story was imaginative, quirky, and full of wonder--much like Carrie herself. It's not necessarily a story that I would read again, but her voice and style are solid in her first novel.

Final rating: 3 stars.

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: Keepsake

She allowed herself to step back for a moment. She stepped back, leaving her body as an empty shell so she could fly. So she could sleep on a cloud with the moon as her nightlight. So she could ride the waves of the wind and collect the stars as she went.

When she returned, all was as it should be. Her extraordinary life was no longer extraordinary; mundane, as most lives are. Except, of course, for the stars filling her pockets; a keepsake and a reminder of her journey. She would keep them forever, pressed into the pages of her favourite books.

They shined just as brightly as the stories inside them.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: The Other Girl

I watched the prince dance from afar. He moved so gracefully, and why wouldn’t he? He was born into this life, full of balls and princesses and royalty. This was second nature to him.

I shifted my focus to the grandly decorated walls, the marble columns, the high ceilings and brightly lit chandeliers. I grew up within the shadow of the palace, but this was my first time being inside. I suppose I should have considered myself lucky; lucky to be the same age as the prince, lucky to be given this opportunity to attend the annual ball. But maybe I would have been better off not knowing what the inside looked like.

My eyes drifted back down to the prince, my heart filled with the same longing I had felt the first day I saw him. He came to my family’s bakery, once; he made eye contact with me, thanked me sincerely for my pastries. My heart had fluttered, my stomach filled with butterflies, mind filled with dreams of what could be. In another life, maybe, but not this one. I could tell from the way he looked at the girl he danced with.

Days later, guards came from the palace with a proclamation. The girl who could fit the slipper would marry the prince, and my heart fluttered once again, my mind daring to dream a second time. It was a masquerade ball, after all—as long as my feet were small enough, who could possibly tell the difference? This could be the other life I was dreaming of.

But the shoe didn’t fit. Of course it didn’t fit.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Micro Fiction Monday: To Fly

There is a story told among my people, a tale of a girl who fell in love with the land dwellers. Legend says that she sold her voice to the sea gods in exchange for legs, so that she may join them in their cities and villages—but that’s where the story ends. From there, people argue of the outcome; some say she fell in love, and married human royalty. Others insist that her plan backfired, and in her heartbreak her body was turned to sea foam. This debate is one that has been going on for centuries—and one that I have no interest in.

She was foolish, that mermaid girl. The human world is disgusting and horrible, full of greedy mortals who destroy their own land, and the land of others, to advance their own selfish plans. I wouldn’t give up my voice, my fin, or anything to live with the likes of them.

But the sky, on the other hand....the sky is magical. The deep, endless blue that stretches on during the day, and the white lights that twinkle when the sun goes down. I want to brush my fingers against the fluffy white clouds that litter the sky, and replace the coolness of the water with the warmth of the sun against my skin. I want to pluck the moon out of the night and wear it around my neck like a locket, to stretch a new pair of muscles from my back and leave my dull world under the sea behind.

I don’t want to swim anymore.

I want to fly.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Ink (Micro-Fiction Monday)

Pens were her thing. Gell pens, quil pens, ball point pens, black pens, blue pens, sparkly pens, pens that looked professional and pens that looked like they were retrieved as a prize in a cereal box. She collected all pens of all sizes. She had more pens than one could use in a lifetime.

She made a point to use each pen at least once, but never let them die. Before the beautiful ink could fade away, she would tuck it safely among the others, moving on to a new colour, a new brand, a new texture. She had plenty to choose from; she was never lacking.

She wrote with her pens, and she drew with her pens. Her pens formed stories that reached the very brink of her imagination; the rough scratches shaped into wings that carried her far above the clouds, and the heads of dragons that became her companions.

She tried to draw on her own skin, to bring her fantasies into the real world. All that resulted were faded markings that wouldn't come off, no matter how hard she scrubbed. She covered these markings up--because just like the ink on the pages, these stories of hers were sacred. For her eyes only.
~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Skyward Dance (Micro-Fiction Monday)

When you’re ready, meet me above the clouds.

The wind wrapped itself around her body, brushing her hair against her skin and rustling the feathers behind her back. She flexed the muscles protruding from her back, stretching them out as far as they would reach. Her fingers twitched, feeling the wind that embraced her.

She took a breath and ran.

Her bare feet pounded against the dirt beneath her, splashing through puddles and crushing dead leaves. It was dark, but even so she could see the end of the earth fast approaching.

She stretched out her arms, shifted her wings. Her feet pushed off the ground for a final time, the weight of her body working with gravity to push her down, down towards the earth that was now far beneath her.

But gravity had never won against her before.

Within moments she was soaring, flying, swooping with the wind. Her wings carried her up, higher and higher, the wind growing colder and pricking her skin with goose bumps. She felt the moisture of the vapor as she entered the clouds; the things she had once imagined as fluffy cotton balls nothing more than water in disguise.

                

Thousands of stars, stretching out for miles and miles in all directions. The earth was far beneath her now; the air was thin and cold, her short breaths coming out in clouds of her own creation. The moon sparkled and shone in the sky—not as bright as the sun, but easier to look at.

Then there was him.

The moonlight accented his own wings as he circled around, riding the currents of air as he waited for her. He noticed her quickly and paused, allowing gravity to drop him towards her. He took her hands in his and the two shot upward, twirling and dipping and soaring together, as they performed their own skyward dance in the starlight.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Easy (Micro-Fiction Monday) (BEDS #8)

I hate the way they fly. The way they soar high in the sky, tumbling and twirling through the clouds. I hate them because I’m jealous—I’m willing to admit it. It’s not like it changes anything.

                

I can feel their eyes digging into my back, constantly, every day. Stop it! I want to scream. I’m just like you!

                

But I’m not. I used to be. I used to belong with them, I used to soar with them. But I don’t.

                

Not anymore.

                

Everything I used to love about the wings now angers me. The fluffy feathers that fall from the sky, tickling against my skin on contact. The speed at which young flyers zoom past my head, creating winds that send my hair flying. The white glow of their colour.

                

My parents won’t let me cut my wings off. They hide sharp objects carefully, now, thinking I won’t notice.

                

They’ll get better. Just have patience.

               

Easy for them to say, when they aren’t haunted by dark shadows in their mirrors. Easy for them to say, when their feathers aren’t rough and torn, scratching painfully against their skin. Easy for them to say, when the thing they love most is ripped away from them, with no explanation why.

                

Easy for them to say. They don’t know what it’s like for your wings to fall apart around you, turning from beautiful to hideous in the blink of an eye.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Peaceful (Micro-Fiction Monday)

Blue skies are my favourite thing. Those clear, sunny days, when there’s not a cloud in sight, and all I can see for miles and miles is the deepest, richest blue that I’ve ever seen. I live for those days.

                

I think he does, too, because those are always our most peaceful days—the days that I insist on doing nothing, and drag him down to the nearest valley or field with me. We lie in the grass, and we start up at the sky, and everything is perfect.

                

He loves it. I know he does. He just would never admit it.

                

“Can we go back, now?” he whispers in my ear. Which isn’t a hard thing to do, really, as the side of my head is brushing up against his shoulder. I could hear him breathing a few seconds ago, before he broke the silence with his annoying question.

                

“Not yet,” I whisper in reply. “Just a little longer.”

                

“But...it’s boring.”

               

  “It’s peaceful.”

                

“Yeah, and ‘peaceful’ is boring.”

                

I sigh and sit up. I open my mouth, about to protest, when a battle cry echoes through the sky, interrupting me.

                 

He sits up beside me, alert, hand reaching for the blade lying on the ground beside him. At least a dozen or so armed warriors come bursting out of the forest, the silver metal of the blades glinting in the sunlight.

                

Of course they would do this today. Of course.

                

“Come on,” he says quickly. His hand is on my arm, now, hoisting me up and ushering me backward. “Let’s go.”

                

Just before we break into a run, though, I can’t help but smirk as I eye him. “What did you just say about boring?”

                

He doesn’t reply.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Excused (Micro-Fiction Monday)

My heart beat pounds incessantly in my ears. I’m panting—no, more like gasping for breath. My lungs are desperately grabbing onto any tiny wisp of air they can, burning like fire in my chest. I’ve never ran so much in my life. Maybe if I had known I would, I would have tried to prepare a little beforehand.

                

But I didn’t know. I didn’t ask for this. As soon as the thought passes through my mind, I realize what a cliché it is. I’m a cliché. That doesn’t seem particularly fair.

                

I trip over something. A twig, a rock...hell, maybe nothing. Maybe my legs just can’t support my weight anymore. Maybe I don’t want them to. Either way, I’m soaring through the air, and colliding roughly with the ground beneath me. What little air I had left in my lungs is gone, now, rushing out as the numb pain stabs at my chest.

                

The heavy footsteps crunch through the dead leaves and twigs behind me. I gasp for breath, my lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen, but I don’t move.

                

My mother was the one who told me what I was. She told me I was the “chosen one”, that my destiny was to save the world from the evil that threatened it. I thought she was making it up. Years later, the elders of the village confirmed it. I almost warmed up to the idea, once. I thought it might be nice, being known as a hero.

                

But they were wrong. I’m not a hero, destiny or not. I’m a coward, waiting for the blade of a sword to excuse me from my duties.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Introducing Snippet Sunday! (WFMAD Day 29)

Today I'm going to start something that I've been meaning to start all month, but kept forgetting about it until now. I call it "Snippet Sunday", because it's Sunday and they both start with S and it sounds cool.

Basically what will happen is every Sunday, I'll post a little snippet of writing--it will either be something taken from an ongoing project, or something completely new, inspired by a roll of my inspiration dice. This will continue after WFMAD is over, so every Sunday you'll get an extra blog post, in addition to the one on Fridays. :)

In spirit of WFMAD, I'll roll the inspiration dice this week, instead of posting an excerpt from an ongoing project.

Genre: Fantasy
Character: Female child
Action: Explore

~~

It was dusk. The sky glowed with varying hues of pink, orange, and black, as the sun dipped below the grassy fields surrounding my home. I lay on the ground, eyes open wide as I waited.

One single, lonely star appeared above me in the sky. Then another. And another.

The sun was completely gone soon; the sky littered with thousands of tiny, twinkling lights. I identified the dozens of constellations my father had shown me over the past few years, each star placement as familiar as the layout of my house.

Except for one; one little star, whose shine dimmed and brightened inconsistently, who seemed out of place among the others. It flew in quick circles, and it was then that I realized it wasn't a star at all; it was a firefly.

I giggled and sat up immediately. It buzzed around my hea excitedly, before flying away in a flash. I jumped up and chased after it, my hair whipping behind me as the distance between me and my home lengthened.

I was simply an innocent child back then. I couldn't have known what my fun little chase would lead to; nor could I have known that what I was following wasn't truly a firefly.

Before I knew it, I was traipsing through the forest, with only the light of the tiny creature to show me the way. I hopped around tree trunks and jumped over roots like it was a game, smiling and giggling all the way.

Before long, we arrived at a meadow. Thousands of fireflies lit up my surroundings, their lights twinkling and sparkling and shedding light on the beautiful flowers around them. Excited at my appearance, and quickly gathered around me, circling around my body so fast that their lights all blurred together in one massive tornado of light. I had never seen fireflies before that night, but as one flew past my face, I realized something.

They weren't fireflies at all. They were faeries.

~~

I hope you enjoyed it!

Until later,

- Justyne