Inspirations and Oddities - Second Friday - November 10th

“The circus arrives without warning. 

No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.” 

― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus


I intend to utilize these Second Friday post to share short inspirations and links to discoveries in our world that have inspired me and my work, if not become part of the world I create.

This week though, I wanted to share with you just one and that's a book that has instantly claimed a spot into my all time favorites. 

"The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern

I won't make this a review because it's been out for a number of years and many of you may already have read it or decided it was or wasn't your thing. 

I am glad that I did not read it until now. It would neve have had the same effect on me, on my heart, even five years ago when it first came out, though I may have loved it then too.

This is meant to be more of a "thank you" to the author, for every once in awhile a book or other form of media comes along that takes us somewhere unexpected. And in this case it occurs to me how, when we read those first words of a book (like those I began the post with above) we have no idea what is in store. 

Nothing could have prepared me for what lay ahead and how much I would fall under it's spell. And the fair question to ask would be "how do you know it is one of your all time favorites when you just read it?" 

To which the only reply is "Because I simply did not want it to end." 

That happens so rarely. I love books and I love reading but 99% of the time I am quite ready for a book to end. Not in a bad way but in an excited to see how it gets wrapped up way. To complete the narrative and allow me to move on to the next in the never-ending stack on the floor. 

I often wonder why no-one writes and approaches more stories in a serialized version but with no intention of ending it. Of course, when authors do this they are often derided for it. Robert Jordan comes to mind and the words "first of a trilogy" seems to induce eye rolls as often as not these days. When I think of my favorite books, they all struck me this way. I wish they had gone on, not in a grand sweeping story arc. . . but just the world, the characters, the magic. 

The one thing these favorites all have in common is the world they take you to is usually quite enchanting and magical. The Night Circus is no exception.

If I had to choose one other thing I adore about it, that would be the descriptive prose. I have read so many writing advice blogs where people seem to be so against overextending the use of details and description and if that is you, then this book will likely not please you. Every chapter is awash in the details and they are always, in my eyes, nothing short of enchanting. 

It's like the author took every mundane thing in a scene and said "but what if?" and then went two steps furthers. Clocks, tents, clothing, food. . . nothing is mundane and ordinary and yet, it all perfectly works without seeming to be "too much". 

If you are a fan of audio books then this is a must too as the reader, Jim Dale ( he read the audio book versions of the Harry Potter series) is beyond amazing in his delivery, characterizations and accents.  

The book was written originally as part of the NaNoWriMo, over three successive years, and writing it and the following success of it seems to have had a profound effect on the author as well who writes, "I wrote book about a nocturnal circus. . . and then my life became one." 

And it is a book that is really about storytelling itself under it's complex and magical surface. Just when you think the story is resolved as the end draws near, there are more chapters that unveil this aspect very clearly. Passages like:

“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows that they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.” 

All great storytelling, be it in book form or the stories we attach to our own experiences and lives, shares that truth I think. It's why I am so set on telling a story with/for everything I create. 

Beauty, execution and form may attract but we stay for the stories.  .  . especially the ones we have yet to tell. 

And magic. . . you should of known it was about magic. .  and despite the wonderful magic that is laced through almost every chapter of the book in one form or another, the revelation of the magic is in it's accessibility and presence in the most mundane of things. And I was stopped in my reading tracks at the character explanation as to why it is not more prominent in the world. In our world. 

"All of this, this is not magic. This is the way the world IS, only very few people take the time to stop and note it."

And yes, there is a thread of a love story woven into it too but that's the magic of "The Night Circus" as well, that aspect of the story might be the fourth or fifth most prominent thread and it's written and handled in such an endearing way.  

Alright, that's enough. Next week I will get back to inspirations and oddities the way I intended them to be presented. Thank you, as always, for reading along. :)

And THANK YOU Erin Morgenstern.  I cannot say enough about the magic I found within this book or how it has inspired me. I just wish it had not had to end.  

nicolas


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Beginning in October of 2017 I started to follow the following format for my blog, posting every Friday and under the following headings:

1st Friday of Each Month - New work ( New to the shops and a look at the making of one item each month)

2nd Fridays - Inspirations and Oddities (Links and thoughts about what inspires me) 

3rd Fridays - The Making of a Maker (advice and shared experiences of how I got "here" to where being a "maker-of-things" is my full time job.)

4th Fridays - The World of Bewilder and Pine ( peeks into the world of the Bewildering Pine, the stories and books to follow and all around fantasy world making)

Musings from a Timeless Journey #1

Hi All!!!

I am back from my cross country trip to visit Mom and my childhood home.

I'll be doing my best to get caught up with you all and your lovely blogs as soon as I get caught up here with shipping and get back on track.

Instead on inundating you with a long post about my trip, I think I will share the experiences in brief, short-short story versions in the coming weeks. It will be a writing exercise for me. Trying to tell the story is one or two pages, no more than 500 words per story.

Little vignettes of past and present all tangled into one.

I hope you'll enjoy them!

nicolas

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"The Farmhouse"

Driving towards the comic book store which thrives in the now nearly-vacant mall, I'll be passing the old farmhouse I so fondly remember from the year I was enrolled in a scholars program. Only two students from each middle school were chosen to attend the year long program and I was lucky enough to be one of them from our small, neighborhood school.

The program consisted of only three classes, every Wednesday, with each class almost two hours long.

Creative English

Science

Ancient Art History

This is one of my favorite memories of those difficult “tween years”.

My classmate Paul and I were first to be picked up on the bus each Wednesday before dawn. The next stop to pick up a student was a full 15 minutes later along a stretch of the old river road where several smaller houses sat framing this grand, three story farmhouse.

During the winter months we’d arrive at the farmhouse still cloaked in winter darkness and the radiant glow that emanated from the first floor windows of the farmhouse cast a palpable warmth across the snow covered yard. A warmth that always managed to touch me as I sat on the bus staring at that beautiful old house. I still love and covet farm houses like that to this day,

Julie, the girl who we were picking up there, I’d come to learn was wicked smart though we barely talked beyond the weekly “Good morning” as she got on the bus. Since the scholar classes were divided into three groups of fifteen students each, and Julie was not in my group, we only really saw each other on the bus and at lunch.

The year of “Good Mornings” passed, and I went on to high school and life beyond but the impact of those classes and the creative support I received from the teachers, remains with me to this day.

And, of course, the farmhouse.

I knew as I drove out towards the mall last week that I’d be passing by it along that same river road.

It’s still there but the years have taken their toll. Most of the houses that were once situated nearby are completely gone and the farmhouse itself has fallen into a state of general disrepair, like many things do across decades of time.

I drove by slowly, conflicting feelings turned inside, saddened at the state of the farmhouse but also glad that it was still there at all because so few things from those formative years are.

I thought of Julie, Paul, and all the other kids who’s names are now as lost to time as the houses that once stood around that farmhouse.

I wondered if the classes, and the opportunities that they afforded, are remembered as fondly by any of the others. And I wondered what happened to the farmhouse thru all these years.

And though it’s not the pre-dawn chill of a long-past winter day, I allowed the words to come anyway.

“Good morning”