Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Visiting the Wonderful Monatuge Library

Hello Everyone!

As you can see from the image beside this text, I've had a great time this week and it's all because of the awesome kids at the Montague Library and their super sweet Librarian!

Bringing Chapter Seven of "Beyond Imagination" I set out to spread a little bit of extraordinary-ness into everyone's day and was so pleasantly pleased to find lots of smiling faces and broad imaginations!

After reading to the children of the Montague Library Reading Program we had an awesome chat about special travels and how exciting they can be. I was so proud to find out that all our friends at the Library knew, just like Milo and Etta, that travels are very special and an opportunity to experience new things and make stronger bonds with our friends and family.

Later, everyone drew pictures of where Milo and Etta should visit next in the story! There was so many creative ideas that I left feeling super inspired for my next children's story! There were chocolate camels, a forest of candy apple trees, a King's castle, trucks and trains made of peppermint and licorice! It was easy to feel hungry for a treat or two after all those delicious ideas!

Check out a couple more photos of my visit below and don't forget that I'll be visiting the Souris Library on Friday August 16th!



Friday, 2 August 2013

Beyond Imagination - Chapter Six

It's no secret that I love art and colors, but this chapter put two of my other secret loves onto the page. I have a fondness for big, old houses (even if Milo would think they look a little creepy) and one of my very favorite animals is the badger. So there's definitely a big part of me invested into Chapter Six of the Summer Reading Program.

It's hard to imagine that we're already over half way through the story but it's exciting too because there's still lots more adventures and wonderfully wacky places and poppets!

Also, keep yours eyes on my Twitter and Facebook to see when I'll be making my Library visits this August!

Chapter Six

"Have You Seen My Missing Colours?"
Have you ever had that feeling that there's something right behind you?
Something that maybe you don't entirely want to see but know that eventually you'll just have to turn around and find out what it is.
Milo had that exact feeling and he didn't like it, not one little bit.
Maybe it was because Vance their Poppet guide had ran away as fast as his monkey feet could carry him...
The good news was that in the real world feelings like that just meant your imagination is running wild and it didn't mean anything.
The bad news was that in this world where nothing was quite right; Milo's sense really did mean something and before he could muster up enough bravery to turn around, Etta had already done so.
"Jumping Jackrabbits!" She said and the words came out like such an expression of shock that Milo couldn't help but turn around swiftly to see what made her so surprised.
Spread before them was acres and acres of grey landscape. The grass was grey, the leafless trees and thorny rosebushes were just as grey too. But most of all, there was a mansion of a house ten times taller than it really should have been that was the greyest of all.
With the landscape of colours from the forest behind them, everything looked even more dreary than it really was. Milo couldn't help but dislike it so much that he made a sour face.
"We're supposed to go in there?" He asked Etta, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it just to be sure.
"Yup, we can't turn around now. Remember what the owl told us." Etta replied, taking a few little shuffling steps towards the big, spooky house.
A strange thing occurred as Etta crossed over into the gloomy landscape. Milo blinked over and over because he couldn't believe his eyes, but as Etta stood just a few feet away from him she had turned grey, just like everything around her! She looked just like that old cartoon his mother had shown him where a mouse captained a steamboat.
Running over to Etta, Milo found that he too had turned grey and was staring at his hands and arms in wonder.
"It's kind of creepy..." Etta said, looking back over her shoulder and swallowing hard.
"Yeah. I don't like it here. I wish we didn't have to go in there..." Milo replied, his little knees knocking.
"It's only scary because you haven't seen it the way it's supposed to be." A sage voice spoke just as two eyes peeked out from inside of a rose bush. Crawling out on all four of it's feet from the bush was a creature that had a cute little black and white face and had a body that looked like a forest animal. But of course...it was just another talking stuffed animal, a Poppet like all of the other creatures they had seen.
"You're a funny looking skunk!" Etta said, laughing a bit as the Poppet made it's way over to them.
"I am not a skunk!" The creature replied, turning up her nose. "I'm a badger and my name is Kate."
"Well whatever you are...What did you mean about not seeing things the way they're supposed to be." Milo asked, watching Kate as she looked worriedly at the mansion and then back to him and Etta.
"When a person is afraid of something it's usually only because they don't understand it or can't see it for what it is. Just like this place, it's only frightening because you can't see it properly like this..." Looking down ashamed, Kate the badger made sad huffing noise. "It's usually beautiful and colourful...I'm the one who's supposed to take care of this mansion but while I was taking a nap in the rosebush, someone stole all the colours away!" She sounded so sad and Milo was sure that if stuffed animals could cry, Kate certainly would.
Looking back around them, Etta seemed to be picturing something the way she held up her fingers like a frame. "It would look so cleverly charming with captivating colours!" She said.
Milo was tempted to ask her to say it again five times fast but hid his laughter and nodded in reply.
"We'll help you find them then!" Milo said, looking down at Kate and giving her an encouraging smile. He didn't quite notice it but knowing what the mansion was supposed to look like and wanting to help the Poppet had made his fear vanish.
"Oh thank you!" Kate said happily. "I'm usually particularly good at finding things; but it seems that I really do need help..." She admitted, leading Milo and Etta into the mansion where they would be able to search.
"Where are we supposed to find the colours anyways?" Etta asked, looking around at the endless staircases and doors that filled the house like a huge fun house maze. With the colour gone all of it's whimsical furniture looked a little strange but as long as the friends kept reminding themselves of what everything really was, it was okay.
The only thing now to think about was where they would ever find the colour thief in this great big place...
Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as it appeared though because looking at one of the staircases that wound like a spiral up into the house there was splatters of colours along the stairs.
It looked like someone had taken their paint set and dropped parts of it all along the way as they ran and so Milo, Etta and Kate followed that path.
It lead them to a long hall that stretched on with doors on either side that were all black and white and black and white and black and white.
But there came a dim light from the end of the hall, Etta seemed nervous to go after it and stayed back with Kate. The boy thought though, he considered smartly what the light could be and refused to be afraid of it, instead of worrying about what he didn't know he tried to understand it...
Which made the light grow stronger and stronger to his eyes until he could see something fantastic!
It was a rainbow of colors shimmering under the door! Milo ran for it in excitement, throwing the door open to find another badger poppet that looked just like Kate but the black stripes on her were white and the white ones were black.
Which was just plain confusing and silly...
"I found the colours!" He shouted, calling Etta and Kate to join in him the room.
"Amy!" Kate yelped out the name as she saw the other badger who was holding a crystal that was glowing with all the colours a person could have ever seen in their life and even more than that.
"You found me, sister!" The other badger poppet giggled wildly, hopping around on her hind legs. "Did you notice that I took all your colours away?!" Amy practically sang the words like it was a funny story or a joke.
No one was too impressed with Kate's sister's behaviour but when the badger came over to them and handed Etta the crystal it became obvious that she intended no harm.
"I'm sorry, it was just a game." Amy said. "You just have to break that crystal and everything will go back to normal. "Please forgive me."
"You're forgiven!" Etta said in a cheerful tone, taking the crystal and giving Amy a loving pat on the head before she turned and tossed the crystal to the floor. It didn't so much as break but instead slowly sank into the creaky floorboards like the house was absorbing it. As soon as the crystal disappeared, the floor started to turn pink and the walls green. Everything was gaining it's colours back like a light had been shined on them and a wave of paint had been washed over them.
Restored to it's original self, the house wasn't scary at all. It was the prettiest, finest and awesomest house Milo and Etta had ever been in!
"But where do we go now?" Milo asked, looking around the room and seeing only the way back out was the one they had taken to enter. The path on their journey had always been clear up until this point and it seemed like there was no where to go.
How could they get home without a path to follow?
"I think I can help you with that!" Amy and her sister Kate said exactly at the same time as they pointed to a funny looking orange and purple pinstriped grandfather clock in the room.

Beyond Imagination - Chapter Five

When I started to develop the Summer Reading Program for this year, it started with a series of images or almost painting in my mind that gave me the areas that Milo and Etta would visit. And honestly, before Milo or Etta even exsisted, this place that they visit in Chapter Five was an image in my mind.

Because of that, this Chapter was very special for me, making it a lot of fun to write and work with that initial concept and shape it into a part of this story which had grown so special to me.

Chapter Five

"The Forest of Giant, Giants"
 
After traveling across the ocean in a folded paper boat, it would seem that this adventure couldn't get anymore un-ordinary than it already was. But standing on the store with a forest of giants in front of them only proved to Milo and Etta that they were in a world beyond imagination and that defied any possible limits.
"If you squint a lot they kinda look like trees..." Etta said in a tone that was neither convincing nor certain.
"Not really." Milo replied solemnly before looking over his shoulder to ask for advice from Rupert the seal Poppet who had crossed the ocean with them.
But the Poppet was gone!
And so was their boat!
"I guess we can't go back now..." Milo groaned a bit. He wasn't very excited to go romping through a forest of gigantic people. "What if one of them steps on us?" He asked Etta, looking as uncertainly as a boy his age could possibly look.
Looking out at the crowd of people who made up the forest, Etta pouted a bit as she thought. They couldn't see who these people were because their heads were high above the clouds and she doubted that they would ever hear her or Milo; even if they shouted and threw a tantrum. So there was no sense in that.
"Well, they just won't." Etta concluded. "We're really small and they're really big which means we're super fast and their pretty slow. So we can make it through without getting stepped on if we're smart about it."
Well, Milo was smart. Or at least he thought he was smart. So maybe things wouldn't be so hard as they looked. Nodding at Etta he went up beside her and held onto her hand. He was nervous but didn't want to really say it so he would just hold her hand as they entered the forest. "Okay, we can do this..." He finally said, stepping forward with his friend into the shade of the giants.
From the inside, the forest looked impossibly more fantastic than it had from the shore. All the giants wore long pants so that they even covered some of certain ones' shoes; which gave the illusion of endless trees made from fabric instead of wood. A lot of them were plain colours like beige, navy, black or grey but there some that were cute and even hilarious! Pinstripes and plain stripes, flowery and frilly, pretty and preposterous. It made the place look very cheery compared to the overpowering exterior of the forest and that did wonders to banish Milo's fears.
Etta wasn't nervous in the least either, she was skipping between the giants and pulling Milo along as he tripped and bounced behind her.
"Wow, this is really fun!!" Etta shouted, causing an echo throughout the forest that made all of the giants start shifting. Both friends gasped right away and were sent flying as they tried to avoid a giant foot from stepping on them. They had been holding hands but had to let go of each other to both run away from the gargantuan shoes which made noise like thunder coming out of the ground.
When the giants finally settled down and the noise went away, Milo and Etta stood beside one another very still and very quiet. And in the silence of the forest, there came a noise that sounded familiar and strange at the same time.
"Did you hear that?" Etta whispered so softly that Milo had to strain to hear her.
"Yeah...it sounds like something I've heard before..." He replied. "Kind of like when I went to the zoo with my mom and we saw...the monkeys!"
And as true as can be the sound coming from a distance was the 'ooing', 'ahhing' and 'eeing' of a monkey. It didn't matter whether you've seen them in person like Milo or on television as Etta had before; there was no denying that it was a monkey.
"It doesn't sound very happy either." Was Etta's observation. "We should go see if everything is okay..."
Milo wasn't entirely happy about this since all he wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as his legs could carry him. But there was someone in trouble and so he agreed and the two of them pushed on towards the monkey in the distance.
Approaching the source of the noise, Milo and Etta saw that there was a monkey who had been trapped by a giant stepping on the tip of his long tail.
"Hey! Over here!" The animal called to them in a squeaky sort of voice that only a monkey could have.
Once they had reached the exact point where he was, it was no surprise to find that this was a Poppet, just like the rest of the animals that had met them on their travels.
"Vance is stuck! Vance in stuck!" The monkey told them frantically.
"Vance?" Etta asked, looking around to see if she could find someone else who was also trapped.
"I think he's talking about himself..." Milo said, looking seriously at the Poppet.
"Boy is right!" Vance yelped. "Vance is stuck!"
"Then we'll get you free!!" Etta proclaimed heroically.
"But how? If we shout the whole group of giants will move again..." Milo pointed out in a discouraged way.
Etta thought hard about what they could do and how her parents would get her to move when she decided to play a rousing game of stay in one spot forever and ever.
"Tickling!" She suddenly shouted, recalling how her father would often have to tickle her to make her move and ignoring Milo's protests she dashed over to the giant.
Ticking the giant's ankle, Etta giggled for effect but those giggles quickly turned into wild laughter as the foot of the giant lifted and she held onto it tightly. From where she was, Etta could see that the Poppet had gotten away and so, focused on making sure she didn't fall off of the wiggling foot.
"Be careful Etta!" Milo screamed up to her.
But she was having too much fun! "This is great!!" Etta shouted back. "YAY!" She cried in joy as the giant tried to shake her off. It all felt like a very fun ride at an amusement park, the kind that most people were nervous to ride except for the very brave or very reckless. Well Etta was made up of equal parts bravery and recklessness and so this was the perfect combination.
The giant was determined though and Etta couldn't hang on much longer. So with one last shake, Etta went soaring in the air and plummeting to the ground much quicker than anyone really should fall. But luckily they had made a new friend in the monkey Poppet and he was the one to break her fall. Landing on Vance was just like falling on a pillow and Etta was giggling gleefully when Milo came running over with concern all over his face.
"Vance saved girl!" The monkey said proudly as he stumbled around, dazed from having someone fall on top of him. It seemed that maybe she had knocked some of his stuffing out too because there was a tear in Vance the monkey's arm with fluff sticking out of it.
"Etta you're okay!" Milo cried, grabbing onto Etta and hugging her tightly. He had been afraid that she would get hurt or that they would get separated, it had never felt so good to have this crazy, giddy, noisy girl around. They were true friends after everything they had been through.
"Can I do it again!?!" Etta said excitedly as she returned Milo's hug. "It was so much fun!"
Milo shook his head and laughed as he wiped some tears out of his eyes. "No! Of course not, don't be silly." He told her.
They might have stayed there hugging for a bit longer but Vance was quickly running around them like a crazy monkey. He really already was a crazy monkey but when he was making himself dizzy by running in circles he seemed even more dotty.
"Giants are restless!" He told them, tugging on Milo's sweater and then on Etta's sock. "Run! Run!" And without saying anything else Vance ran and with such nervous monkey noises that Etta and Milo just had to follow him.
It turned into a mad dash as the giants stirred, each one walking together like one person in the opposite direction of Vance, Milo and Etta. The three had to jump, somersault and even hop from one giant foot to another in order to get out.
And once the trio had escaped from the giants and turned to look back at where they were going, they saw that all the giants were walking slowly and steadily towards the ocean where each one eventually stepped inside. No matter how deep it had been when Milo and Etta were looking inside the giants were even taller than that so even when the crowd was crossing the ocean, their heads were still in the clouds.
"Boy, girl and Vance made it!" Their Poppet friend said hopping up and down and waving goodbye to the giants.
"We really did it!" Etta said happily, looking at Milo who didn't seem to be watching the giants but was looking down at his shoes like he didn't want to turn around.
And for a good reason too, Milo had the strangest feeling that something spooky was behind them.

Thursday, 18 July 2013

Beyond Imagination - Chapter Four

And now with this chapter, you're going to be all up to speed on the newspaper editions of Beyond Imagination. I won't say much about it at risk of being a spoiler to my own story, but I will say that it's high time we got to know Etta a little bit better!

Chapter Four

"The Endless Ocean"
The only thing that Milo was convinced of was that Etta had built a paper boat big enough for both of them to fit into it. He wasn't positive that it would float and even if it did there was no way it could get them across that ocean.
The only thing Milo was positive of was that none of this was going to work.
But as Milo was learning, nothing in this world was exactly what he expected it to be.
He certainly wasn't going to be the same sensible boy leaving this place that he had been upon entering it...
And oh, he was nervous as Etta convinced him to get in the boat as the two of them brought it to the edge of the water. The children of the Oasis waved goodbye to them cheerfully and Ada the Poppet stayed behind. No one was worried except for Milo and he shut his eyes tightly as they floated out into the ocean.
But after he had counted to one hundred exactly one hundred times, Milo opened his eyes to find that the Oasis had completely vanished from view.
Now, Milo and Etta were out in the middle of a vast ocean. Their little boat seemed small compared to it but the friends felt even smaller. It was overwhelming but incredible.
The ocean was crystal blue and shimmered like diamonds had been sprinkled across it. Even more amazing still was the fact that when they would lean over the side of the boat and peer into the water it acted like a mirror.
For the first moment it looked like the sky was staring back up at you. But as Milo saw while he was mesmerized by the view, the water would ripple away from the boat and reveal the world beneath it.
"Look!" Etta gasped and rightfully so. For what the two friends were looking at was truly impossible.
Beneath the water's surface, down, down, down in the deep depths was an assortment of fish in every shape, size and colour. They weaved happily through a shimmering coral reef, the little fish playing hide and go seek amongst the structure. Other fish swam down into what looked like the bottom of the sea.
"It's like a whole different world down there..." Milo said breathlessly.
They could have watched it forever and Etta leaned herself closer to the edge of the water to take a better look. She could have easily tipped the boat with one wrong move and likely would have if a grinning seal's face hadn't popped out of the water so suddenly that it sent Etta jumping back into the boat.
Milo was shaken up by all the rocking their boat was doing and he nearly fell out himself.
"You shouldn't scare people like that!" He shouted, shaking a finger at the seal just like his mother would have.
Just like he knew she was going to once he got home and she found out it was him who ruining her garden with all that digging...
"Scare?" The seal barked out a laugh, leaning himself half way into the boat. From the way he was shaped and the sewing all over him it became obvious that this was another Poppet. "I was just playing." He said simply, swimming backward and then around in a circle like he didn't care that he frightened Etta. "I'm Rupert by the way. Don't bother introducing yourselves. I already know, you're Milo and Etta."
"How did you know our names?" Milo asked suspiciously.
"The water told me." Rupert explained as if it were common knowledge.
"The water talks!?" Etta asked with surprise which was unique since she never found anything strange.
"Why yes; haven't you looked into it yet?" The Poppet asked, ignoring Milo and focusing solely on Etta.
The girl hesitated, like maybe she had something she didn't want to talk about and so Milo piped up in her defence.
"Of course we did, all there were was fish!" He asserted.
"Then you didn't look hard enough!" Rupert replied in an annoyingly smart tone. "You had better try again."
So just as the Poppet said, both Milo and Etta looked into the water this time with the idea of what it wanted to show them and not what they expected to see. At first the image was fuzzy and hard to make out, like a blend of colours that someone put together while finger painting. But after awhile of focusing the colors came away from each other and made a true life-like image.
"It's you!" Milo exclaimed in shock, looking at Etta and then to the girl in the water's image. It certainly was her but she didn't seem like herself. Etta looked miserable and was hiding in a closet. And judging by the stickers on the wall, Milo figured that it must be her own closet.
"What's wrong?" He asked, looking at the real Etta who now seemed very sad too.
"I remember..." She said first. "That was just before you found me. I was hiding in my closet because my family is going to move." Etta explained as she focused on the image of herself. "I wanted to stay there forever, I shut my eyes and then when I opened them I appeared on that street where we met."
"Well you could always stay here." Rupert said quickly, before Milo could get a word in. Swimming back up to them and through the image of Etta so that it rippled away from the water and vanished. "If you keep going, you have to move away eventually. But you could stay here and never move away...ever."
Etta looked tempted, really tempted and that scared Milo because he knew if they never left that he would never get home. And he knew there was no way Etta could be happy just staying here either.
It was then that Milo noticed that their boat had stopped moving. He wasn't certain when it happened but he knew for sure that it wasn't going anywhere now.
"Oh Etta! We can't just stay here..." He told her desperately. "Please tell me you don't want to stay like this forever!" Milo said, searching Etta's face for some sort of answer to what she was thinking.
"...I don't want to leave my house!" Etta cried out with little tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She was determined to stay at her own house but Milo just couldn't understand why. She seemed to love adventures so much and going to new places was always a discovery.
"I'll show you why you shouldn't just stay stuck..." Milo said uncertainly. He looked over the edge of the boat, giving Rupert the seal Poppet an annoyed look and then stared deeply into the ocean. Milo thought hard, his mind went to Etta and how she didn't want to move, how she seemed to enjoy their travels together. As he meditated on that thought, more colours started to appear in the water. Milo had to focus harder than he ever had in his life; even harder than when he was learning multiplication.
He was rewarded though as an image appeared so cleary that he gave a loud gasp. "Look Etta! Look!"
Glancing listlessly over at the water, Etta didn't seem interested at first but once she saw that it was a picture of her leaving her old home holding both her parents hands, she quickly wanted to see it. "What happened!? How did it change?" She asked franticly, looking at Milo.
"It's another adventure." He explained. "I thought about what your next adventure would be." Smiling at her Milo hoped that Etta would understand.
She didn't seem to want to, but Milo kept his eyes on her and looked so hopeful that she cracked a little smile.
"You really think it will be an adventure?" Etta asked softly.
"I know it will be! Just watch..." Milo said, pointing at the image as it showed them getting into their car to follow the moving van.
As Etta came to accept this, the friend's boat started to move again, the image going with them and guiding them along so that she could see the road along the ocean that they would follow to get to their new house. There a huge bridge they had to cross and then a land with fields, animals and quaint houses. That road led into a city with interesting people and fascinating buildings that the Etta in the picture couldn't want to explore.
Neither Etta or Milo noticed but the whole time their boat was moving because Rupert was the one pushing it along the ocean until there was perfect land in sight. It was a beach with a thick forest that you couldn't see past.
The friends were watching the vivid image in the water so closely that they only noticed the beach when the picture vanished just before Etta could see what hew new street would look like.
"No! I wanted to see the street! Everything else was so pretty..." She said, looking at Milo who was smiling at her, proud that Etta had been brave and moved on.
"Then you'll just have to find out for yourself what it looks like!" Rupert said, flopping onto the shore along with the boat.
Etta nodded. "Right, I will!" She declared with determination.
But looking past her, Milo wasn't so convinced that they would have to worry about where she was moving at this very moment. "We've got something else to deal with!" He said in shock, pointing to the forest before them that wasn't made of trees but from long, long, LONG legs that belonged to...giants!

Beyond Imaginaton - Chapter Three

As promised! Another delicious chapter of my Children's Summer Reading Program for your enjoyment. I won't lie and say I didn't get hungry writing this chapter because I certainly did; in fact, reading it again I get the strangest urge for a slice of red velvet cake.

So enjoy Chapter Three and try not to eat your computer, phone or tablet in the process!

Chapter Three

"The Dessert Desert"

Dessert is one of best part of anybodies day. It's sweet, delicious and makes your tummy sing with all of it's sugary goodness!
So when faced with the peculiar choice of a painting to walk through and explore; what kid or even adult wouldn't choose artwork that depicts the most marvellous treats that eyes have ever seen?
Well Milo and Etta certainly weren't going to pass up a chance like that! No matter what that Poppet's warning meant...
Etta was the first one to enter the painting, hopping over the frame like a bunny and letting the picture swallow her whole so that she vanished just like magic.
Milo had a different method, first he tested the painting with his hand, letting it slip in and out of the painting until he felt comfortable enough to go through. But before he disappeared, Milo remembered to wave goodbye to their tiny owl guide.
The very second he was on the other side, Milo heard Etta; breathless and excited.
"You've gotta see this..." Etta said in amazement.
The view on the other side of the painting was a sight to behold. Lying before them were rolling hills of sand that seemed to make up waves that would have been big enough to surf if it were an ocean.
But this wasn't the ocean and it was impossible to imagine that it was.
"It's so hot!" Milo exclaimed, wiping sweat off of his brow and actually thinking of taking off his hat. Which was really weird since Milo never took his hat off, not even to take a bath!
"I know..." Etta complained with a groan.
But the complaining didn't last a moment longer and no one wondered where the desserts from the painting were. Why you ask? Because slowly appearing before Milo and Etta was an assortment of rainbow coloured and larger than life treats.
Milo was the first to run for them, he was so hot in his sweater and hat that a gigantic ice cream sundae looked the like perfect place to swim and snack at the same time. But the very moment he would have landed in the most amazing dish of dessert, Milo fell flat, face first into the sand.
Which compared to ice cream was just plain yucky.
"Where'd the ice cream go!?" Etta shrieked, running up beside Milo and helping him up as he spat out sand. There were still plenty of desserts surrounding them, but when Etta would squint her eyes she could see straight through them into the endless dessert.
Maybe the owl was right... They had chosen the wrong painting and now they were stuck in in this desert!
But out from the sound of shifting sand came a voice. It was parched; sounding dry and scratchy. "I think I can answer that." It said from out of nowhere.
"Who's that?!" Both friends called out, Milo grabbing Etta's hand and Etta grabbing Milo's a little nervously.
A warm chuckle came out from behind a sand drift letting them know that there was nothing to fear.In fact rounding the corner was something that looked like a stuffed animal, just like the owl in the gallery.
It walked on all fours and had a long nose that seemed to be snuffling around the sand for something. "You've nothing to be afraid of, I'm just Ada the Poppet." She said, sniffing her way over to the two children and looking up at them.
"Your name is Ada and you're an Aardvark!" Etta said laughing, reaching down and picking up the Poppet. Milo decided that the girl was much smarter than she seemed, especially knowing that the creature was an aardvark. The way she hugged it, the creature looked nice and comfy like Milo's favourite teddy bear. "That's so cute!" Etta squealed.
Milo had a feeling that these Poppets were going keep popping up everywhere...
"Nice to meet you." He said a little to quick to be truly polite. "But what's wrong with the desserts because I really wanted some ice cream." Milo was a little whiney about the whole thing but he tended to do that when he wasn't getting what he wanted.
"These desserts are playing a mirage game." Ada started to explain. "They're supposed to be a at party to celebrate children's day for the local town. But the desserts think it's funnier to run around and not be eaten. They also don't like greedy people and they won't let you eat them if you're not sharing."
"You mean there's children are having a party and there's no treats?" Etta asked sadly. "We've got to do something about it!" The little girl decided with great determination.
"It's true." Milo agreed. "But what can we do if the desserts won't let us catch them?"
"You've got to sneak up on them!" Ada laughed, climbing out of Etta's arms and onto the girl's shoulder.
Tricking dessert? Milo wasn't convinced he could actually do that. He'd never done it before which made it seem harder than it actually might be. But if he were supposed to have a party and there were no desserts than he would want someone to try and bring some to him too!
So he just had to try!
Looking at the first dessert he could find; a luscious chocolate cake with loads of chocolate icing and lots of candies on it. Milo turned his back pretending to not care. The boy even whistled to himself and took a few tiny steps away. When he was sure the cake thought he was leaving Milo jumped back around and spread out his arms as if he were hugging the cake.
Suddenly the mirage was gone...
But, oh joy! "Yippee!" He cried. That very same cake was in Milo's arms and was very real.
Etta followed Milo's example and the two of them gathered up desserts in their arms until the piles were as tall as them and they had to poke holes through the cupcakes to see where they were going.
There was...
Red velvet cake, strawberry pudding, pumpkin doughnuts, chocolate bars, cotton candy, ginger cookies, raspberry ripple ice cream and tummy tickling treats no one has ever tasted before.
"The party is at the Oasis, let's go!" Ada said after they couldn't carry even one more crumb.
As they traveled along with desserts to bring to the party, Milo turned to Ada and asked her a question. "Will you tell me what a Poppet is?"
She wasn't as secretive as the owl had been and so the answer came quite plainly. "A Poppet can be many things. It can be a name for someone you like, it can be a puppet or a doll. But Poppets like I are here to guide you on your journey. Think of us as friends." She said kindly.
"Well, if Poppets are going to help me--" Milo started.
"And ME!" Etta added quickly.
"...If they're going to help US get home, than I hope they're all a nice as you Ada." He said patting the creature on the head.
Ada ticked his fingers with her long nose and chuckled. "Well I would hope so too friend, but we're not all this nice. In fact you must beware, some of my fellow Poppets are tricksters. They don't want to cause harm but they can't help playing jokes! Promise me you will be careful." She said with motherly smile.
"We promise, cross our hearts!" Etta chirped in happily.
Milo was going to add his promise too but before he could there came a sound of rejoicing that could only be tons of excited kids.
"We're here!" He said, crossing from the hot desert sand and into a grassy, lush oasis where him and Etta were relieved of their desserts and drowned in hugs and 'thanks' from the children.
The party was lively with music, dancing and games. Milo and Etta had so much fun playing with everyone that at first that they completely forgot about eating. In fact, it was a long time before anyone thought about the desserts at all. But when they finally did there was enough for everyone to share and enjoy together.
When everyone was smiling together and their new friends were just as happy as they were; it made for the perfect party.
Both Milo and Etta agreed that the treats were twice as nice because of it.
And just as the last lick of ice cream was gone and the last slice of cake had been devoured; a few of the children came forward with a gift for Milo and Etta.
"We would like to give you a present for bringing us our desserts and being good friends to us even though we've never met." They said happily, like their hearts were singing.
"You're welcome!" Both friends said together.
Etta was the one to receive their present and Milo wasn't sure what it was, but looked suspiciously like a huge sheet of paper with a pretty floral pattern on it that was accented with shimmery gold.
"It's magic paper!" Etta exclaimed, holding the sheet out to examine it thoughtfully.
How she knew this defied Milo's logic, there didn't seem to be anything particularly magical about a square sheet of paper.
But Ada sniffled the paper and nodded in agreement with Etta. If she seemed to think it was magic too.
Who was Milo to disagree with an aardvark? Especially one that displayed undoubtedly magical qualities like this talking stuffed animal.
"That will help you on the next part of your journey." Ada said, turning her head towards the Oasis' water that had once been a pond but now looked like a never ending ocean.
"I'll fold it into a boat and then we'll use it to cross all that water!" Etta explained, lying it flat on the ground and starting to fold in the edges of the paper.
"A paper boat won't float!!" Milo yelped.
"Haha!! That rhymes!" Was the only thing Etta would say as she worked diligently.
Ada seemed just fine with this idea but Milo couldn't understand how they were ever going to cross an ocean like that in only a boat made of paper...

Beyond Imagination - Chapter Two

Well, it's time to share Chapter Two of my Children's Summer Reading program story, Beyond Imagination with everyone here on my blog! Yesterday a new chapter was released in the Vaughan Weekly, The Guardian and The Journal Pioneer newspapers and I'm going to be posting all the chapters that have been printed so far to keep everyone up to speed!

This chapter is very yummy; but not so yummy as the next chapter. Unless you're a fan of pickle flavored ice cream.

Chapter Two

"Artwork Good Enough to Eat"
 
Milo wasn't often very sure of anything, even at the best of times. So since he was positive that this had to be a dream, it absolutely must be.
Right? Wrong.
The way Etta kept bouncing up and down with her mop of wild red hair swinging around while she irritatingly tugged on Milo's arm was too real to make this a dream. But since it wasn't, Milo was left to figure out two very important matters.
One, how to get his street back to normal so the only person who looked like him was in fact him. Two, he had to get away from Etta long enough to run home where she wouldn't find him.
"So, how're you gonna fix it!" Etta shouted in the boy's ear and then changed the subject quickly. "Do you sometimes feel like maybe you're a lot like everybody else? 'Cause sometimes I do" She asked.
"...Yes, sort of..." Milo admitted hesitantly, although the little boy knew that he always considered himself ordinary. How someone like Etta could feel like everyone else though was beyond his imagination. There wasn't anyone Milo met who was remotely like Etta.
"Then if you fix that, maybe all the other Milos will go away." She replied, but Milo wasn't really paying attention, he was thinking.
After all this situation was particularly puzzling for a boy of Milo's age, but he was a sensible child. Sometimes Milo was so sensible that he would drive his mother crazy by correcting her when she was a hurry or trying to make a joke.
But a sensible mind was just what would work in a mixed-up situation.
"If all the other Milos are like me because I feel that I'm no different than them..." He said thoughtfully. And then Milo's eyes grew wide and his ace got bright with an idea!
Looking over at the nearest Milo, who just happened to be the one with the pickle flavoured ice cream, the little boy shouted as loud as he could. "I DO NOT LIKE PICKLE FLAVOURED ICE CREAM!" And with a very magical poof the Milo disappeared, leaving behind a funny looking little boy with freckles who was enjoying his ice cream as though nothing had happened.
"You did it!" Etta squealed, her little face was all squished up in her great excitement as she hopped from one foot to another.
Milo secretly wondered if she could stand still for more than sixty seconds.
"Yup, there's something about each of these other Milos that isn't like me. So if I find out what it is, than I'll be able to put everything right again!" He declared in his most rational voice.
"Well what's keeping you then! C'mon!!" Etta cried, grasping Milo's hand and pulling him down the street. They went so fast that Milo only had the chance to shout out at each child that looked like him as he saw them.
"I can't jump rope yet!" Milo yelped.
"I haven't learned to whistle yet!" He proclaimed to another before hastily adding. "But I will!"
Etta giggled like a hyena at that one, which made Milo blush just a little bit.
"I can read chapter books!" Was the most cheerful thing Milo called out, proud at his excellent skill when he came by a child reading a picture book. Then again sometimes he still liked reading picture books just because they were fun.
"I don't like spinach!"
"I'm a very good singer!"
"I like chocolate better than lollipops!"
And he kept on doing this until Etta stopped running and they both fell down laughing on the broad stone steps of a building at the end of the street.
A building at the end of the street? There had never been one here before...
Milo was sure he was going loopy now, but looking up he saw a huge museum that looked grand and regal. Like some place his mother would take him downtown to look at pictures that people painted hundreds of years ago.
He would have spent more time looking at it too, if it wasn't for Etta pointing back down the street where they had come from. "Look! Look! You did it Milo!"
And he certainly had, every child who had once looked like him was now themselves again and didn't seem fazed in the least. Milo grinned, a broad grin that he didn't even know could fit on his face. He felt special; there were so many reasons he wasn't like any of those children that he knew he would never feel not unique again. It was a great!
"Wow, you're pretty cool after all Milo." Etta said , spinning like a ballerina. But mid-spin the girl stopped and stumbled a bit, Milo caught her and quickly saw that she was staring up at the building where they had stopped. For a minute it seemed like she was speechless but in all the strange things that had happened so far; Etta being truly quiet was the only real dream.
Bouncing back onto her feet, she let out a great big "Ooooo" and then an exaggerated "ahhhhh".
"What is this place?" Milo asked curiously, climbing the stairs up to a set of doors made from heavily carved wood that looked way too heavy to open. "This was never here before..."
How could things just appear out of no where? Milo had thought that this was his street because it certainly looked like it, but maybe he was just as lost as Etta. The thought was a little overwhelming and it made Milo want to find home more than ever.
Now that he was lost too, he no longer wanted to lose Etta. They would stick together.
Considering whether or not they should try to go into this place or not, Milo's mind was made up for him as Etta came barrelling towards the boy and pushed the door open.
And what a surprise, it wasn't heavy at all!
But because of that and his new friend's momentum, Milo and Etta went tumbling inside, somersaulting and rolling straight into a long hall.
Left lying on his back and staring up at a ceiling that felt like it was spinning, Milo could hear soft, funny music and everything around him smelt old but clean. Like when he would go to his Granny's house. Slowly sitting up, the first thing Milo saw was a tiny little stuffed animal.
It was an owl, a blue owl with great big eyes, exaggerated stitching and purple fabric feathers on it's belly. Milo thought it was kind of cute, especially when it would blink.
Blink? ...Blink!! Stuffed animals can't blink!
Oh no! That was entirely, certainly and completely ridiculous!
"Who are you?" The small stuffed Owl said, his 'w' sounded like he was trying to whistle at the same time as talking.
"YOU TALK!" Etta cried excitedly as she leaned over Milo's shoulder to get a good look at the little creature.
"Of course I talk..." The owl said, as though the whole thing was elementary. "All Poppets can talk."
"What's a Poppet?" Milo asked smartly, despite thinking the whole thing was absurd.
"I'm a Poppet; that's all you need to know for now." Mister Owl explained very vaguely. "Now, who are you?" He asked again, tapping a little stuffed claw on the floor.
"I'm Milo and this is Etta." The little boy explained, standing up slowly and looking around. "Where are we? Can I get home from here?" He asked hopefully. "I want to get home for supper."
Watching Milo as he walked around, the owl nearly turned his head all the way around while keeping an eye on the boy. "You can't go straight home. You can only go forward and never really go back the same way you came. But if you really are set on going back you must take the opposite way around and trick what's already happened into letting you back in again." The owl explained sagely.
Milo wasn't sure he understood that and from the dazed look on Etta's face she didn't understand at all and might be hurting her brain trying to figure it out.
Looking around the room where they stood, Milo saw that it was one huge hallway. It was long; in fact it looked like it would never end if they were to walk down it. But more interesting than that were the paintings on the walls. They were two times taller than Milo and Etta, even if she were standing on his head. And each one had a fantastic picture!
There was broccoli trees, orange juice lakes, a mountain of grapes and fields made from mashed potatoes. Each one was different and each one made Milo hungry!
But the most interesting of all and had drawn both him and Etta to it was a painting that depicted a vast, endless amount of cake, ice cream, fudge, cookies and desserts that Milo didn't even know the name of!
"That makes my tummy very interested in it." Etta said, licking her lips as she looked ready to eat the picture. As she reached out to touch it, Etta found that her hands didn't meet the artwork but went straight through. Her hand had vanished!
A mix of chuckling and hooting came from beneath them. It was that owl again and he looked very amused...
"Is this how we continue on?" Milo asked with an eyebrow lifted, considering what the little creature had said before. A smile crept on the boy's face as he thought himself very clever for figuring it out.
"Indeed, you must choose one of these paintings. But remember, reckless choices now will make for more work later. They always do." The owl said again in his very wise, old voice.
Milo was glad real owls couldn't talk because if they all said things like this one; the world would be very confusing. And so without really considering the Poppet's advice, Milo looked at Etta who looked back at him as the two of them smiled at each other.
They knew what they wanted...
"CAKE!"

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Beyond Imagination - Chapter One

Hello Everyone!

It's that time of year again; the sun is shining, everyone is relaxing and the Summer Reading Program has made it's newspaper debut! This year, I've taken a whole new spin on the Program's theme and instead of Pirates I went with a full-out imagination smorgasbord! I wrote this as a tribute to two of my favorite Children's novelists, Roald Dhal and Dianna Wynne Jones as well as my favorite animated film-maker Hayao Miyazaki. Channeling the imagination and free-spirited nature of their works, I crafted a story with characters who are lovable, humours and hopefully and little zany.

You can read "Beyond Imagination" each week in Vaughan, Ontario's Vaughan Weekly newspaper, Charlottetown's The Guardian newspaper and Summerside's The Journal Pioneer. Each Wednesday, a new chapter is published and I will be keeping up with the story on my blog.

Over the next three days I'll be posting the first three chapters as they have been in the newspapers. So without further ado, enjoy chapter one of "Beyond Imagination".


Chapter One

"Digging Deep"

In an exceptionally ordinary town, on a remarkably ordinary street, in a particularly ordinary house, lived a boy who was a strictly ordinary.
Who, because of his oridnary-ness never thought he could do anything special.
Ever.
But the mistake that people made in convincing him of this was that often times it is the most ordinary of people who make rare and astounding discoveries.
This distinctly ordinary boy could truly be anyone. Could be you, really, if you thought about it hard enough, but for the sake of our story we will choose just one. This boy's name happens to be Milo and his small mind has yet to understand what he can really do if only given the very opportunity it needs.
And so, let us join Milo on Wednesday, in the very middle of his ordinary week.
He's the kind of boy who likes to wear his striped sweater and cap all the time even in the Summer when he has to put it on with shorts.
Standing in his backyard, Milo pondered what he might spend such a Summer day doing.
It was still quite early in the morning and with a tummy full of breakfast pancakes it seemed like the world was his. Or at least the patch of nice green grass behind his house.
Now Milo had heard, as many children do, that China is on the opposite side of the world. And if so then why not dig a hole straight through the world? He could even make a stop-off at the center of the earth if he dug fast enough to get there before his mother called him for lunch.
So pulling out a shovel from the garden shed, Milo set out on his mission, carefully selecting a spot to dig right between Mother's roses and gardenias.
Milo started to dig... And he dug so fast and quick that the neighbours thought there was a dust storm brewing. But as they craned their necks over the fence, all they could see was a deep hole between two patches of prize-winning gardenias and roses.
For Milo's part, he kept shovelling dirt until his hole was so big that he could stand up straight in it. But even after all that work he still couldn't see anything more than dark soil and even with his ear pressed against the ground, Milo couldn't hear a thing.
It was a sort of disappointing thing for a boy like Milo who had so little adventure in his life.
But as the hot noon sun rose high in the sky, when Milo's mother called him in for lunch, the boy was pleased.
After all, digging was a hungry work.
But just as happy as Milo was to eat he was doubly excited to get back to digging. There was something entertaining about the unknown prospect of what Milo might find and while he didn't know what it would be, it had to be more exciting than another day kicking around a ball in the backyard.
This was fun but Milo had given up the idea that he was going to find anything in particular and instead just decided to make his pile of dirt as high as possible. So digging commenced in a very serious manner to achieve this goal.
That was until a very curious thing happened.
There was, coming from the hold a certain sort of...scraping sound.
It was strangely familiar and Milo was bright enough to recognize it as the noise of another shovel digging.
Was it another child? Perhaps a youngster from China digging their way through to Canada?
"Hello! Hello there!" Milo called to them, now digging so furiously that his little knuckles turned white.
No answer. How peculiar...
And as little shafts of light started to break through pebbles and dirt...Milo's eyes grew wide.
Of all the things he expected to find, this wasn't it. For as the sunlight made his vision blurry Milo could have swore that he had seen himself on the other side of the hole.
...Maybe he was going dotty?
The boy was determined to find out what it really was and so very bravely reached through the hole and with a very strange combination of pulling and shoving managed to come out on the other side.
His mysterious twin was missing and this new place looked very much like his own backyard.
"Mom..." He called to see if she would answer. Maybe Mother was distracted "Elaine!" It always got her attention when he called her by her first name.
Still no answer...how different this was.
Milo was interested and also very, very, VERY intrigued.
So he wandered out to the front yard to find his Mother but what greeted him instead was beyond what Milo had ever even daydreamt. It was his street for sure but every house and every front yard matched his own and the street stretched out endlessly in just that way.
Even more fantastical than that was the fact that every child, no matter what they were doing in their front yards were identical to Milo.
It didn't matter if they were jumping rope, making chalk drawings or playing hopscotch. Even the ones eating pickle flavoured ice cream looked like him...which was just silly because Milo knew he would never do that.
There were no cars and everything seemed very calm, so the boy decided that the very smart thing to do would be to explore. So walking up the street he peeked in windows and waved hello to the other children. None of the Milos would wave back though, it was almost like they didn't even notice him. And everything was so silent that it felt to Milo as if he were the only one who could speak.
"Are you the one that did this?" A voice rang out that struck Milo as annoying.
It sounded like a girl but as Milo swivelled around to try and find her, he couldn't see anyone but the replicas of himself. "Did what?" He called out dumbfounded.
"You know..." The girl chided. "...THIS! Everyone looks like you, so you must have done it. Do you think I would make everyone look like you?" She asked sternly.
Milo was greatly confused by this. "Would you?" He innocently replied.
"NO!" Was what the girl shouted back.
Now Milo really was frustrated with this girl. Not only did she seem rude but he also could not find her! "Where are you?" Milo demanded in his tiny voice.
"I'm right here, silly goose!" The girl's voice sounded much closer when she said this which caused Milo to turn around.
What he saw first were feet. Feet? That's not right...you're supposed to see a person's head first and then their feet. But sure as can be; there was a pair of little shoes staring Milo in the eyes.
"Down here!" She told the stupefied boy.
Looking down Milo saw that the girl was standing on her head and then something struck him. "You weren't there just a minute ago!" He accused her.
"Of course I was," The red haired girl replied smartly.
"Oh yeah? Than how come I couldn't see you?" Milo asked, hands on his hips as he took a step back to observe this girl who was around his age and decked out in mismatched clothing. "Obviously it's because you didn't know where to look." She told him, finally turning right side round so that her feet were on the ground, although her hair seemed to stay in upside-down position.
"I'm Etta!" The girl exclaimed, holding out her hand to shake Milo's. He was too shy though and instead stared down at his shoes.
"I'm Milo..." He said hesitantly.
"Why were you standing on your head?" He asked Etta, not convinced that this girl was quite normal.
"To see things in a different way." Etta explained quite simply, one finger on her chin thoughtfully. "I'm lost you see and I thought I might find something or someone that way." She added.
Milo was prepared to say a very smart statement explaining away Etta's logic when she launched into another run of words before he could even start.
"But guess what? You found me, Milo!" Etta exclaimed, grabbing his hands and hopping around in a circle. "I'm lost you know and you're the first person to find me! Congratulations!"
Milo had never been quite this...fun and so he stopped their hopping and let go of Etta's hands. "Uh...Thanks, I think..." He muttered. "Do you at least know where we are?" He asked, hoping that maybe Etta could be just as helpful as she was annoying.
"Of course I don't know where we are. I'm lost, DUH! If I knew where we were, I wouldn't be lost." She reasoned, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.
Milo couldn't figure out why she seemed so irritated by him; he was only being logical. Etta was the one who didn't understand what was going on. He was sure of that much...
"You know, two heads are better than one. And three heads are better than two...but I guess since we only have two heads that will just have to do." Etta said, speaking to herself. "And even if you're a little bit...boring...I think we can figure this out."
Milo raised an eyebrow at Etta, unsure if she was paying him a compliment or not. Nothing seemed very sure with the things she said. "Figure what out?" Milo finally asked, afraid of what she might answer.
"How to get home, silly goose! Don't you want to get home?" She asked.
Milo nodded, of course he wanted to get home.
"Then from now on we're going to be a team!" Etta explained with a look of mischief.
 
 

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

A Love Letter to The Ric Flair Donair Burger

Everyone who has been following me on Facebook or Twitter knows that I was selected as a PEI Burger Love Blogger. Well, all my assignments were done and today is the last day of this month long, province wide celebration! I had to go out and find one more love to share my heart with and when I came upon the Big Orange Lunchbox, I knew this would be an experience to remember!

In honor of The Ric Flair Donair burger, I wrote this review and have some photos to share with you. Try not to eat your computer while you read this...



To understand the total epicness that is the Big Orange Lunchbox's Ric Flair Donair Burger is to know the love of Island Beef. As a girl, finding herself at the end of PEI Burger Love, I can't say I wasn't already lamenting the end of our fabulous month of culinary excellence. I was convinced that there was no way I could find a love that would last all the way until Burger Love 2014...

And then one day,
One magic day he passed my way

Who is he, you ask? The Ric Flair Donair Burger! And oh, what a magically memorable day this became once I was met face to face with such a paragon of Burger Love. As I was presented with this impressive Burger, the first thing that struck me was that there, surrounded by home made donair meat, roasted garlic donair sauce, veggies and a coriander bun was 9oz of purely fresh Island Beef.
With my first bite into this epitome of deliciousness, The Ric Flair Donair hit me like a love song that only needs one phrase, "Postman, postman, we're the perfect pair, send this love letter care of the Ric Flair Doniar!".

Every taste after it was like being introduced to the perfect Burger over and over again! It was fresh, crisp and perfectly seasoned. The peppery donair meat met the sweet and sour pickles for a trio of heavenly sensations dancing on my tongue. And while the provolone cheese melted in between the donair and beef, it created a soft creamy flavor alongside the zip of red onion and make perfect companions for the roasty garlic donair sauce that has a pinch of uniqueness that make it a taste exclusive to the Big Orange Lunchbox! Topped off with that gently spiced presence of the incredibly fresh house made Coriander bun and you're on a trip to Burger Love Cloud Nine!

The Big Orange Lunchbox is where's the party's at and with Ric Flair Donair at your side, you'll never look at a Burger or Donair the same way! All others pale in comparison to the vivacious combination of flavor, tang and spunk that Chef James brought to life in this treat for the senses. My taste buds owe you one, Chef!

And there's a true moral to this epic love story on the last day of Burger Love. It's never too late for true love and...

The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return

Monday, 8 April 2013

Burger Blogging for PEI Burger Love

To all of my readers from Prince Edward Island, you know the glorious feeling that April brings. Spring is here, the blooms are budding, the birds are singing and we've got a month of culinary excellence spread out across our entire Province!
You know what I'm talking about...PEI Burger Love, the amazing event where chefs create the most amazing creations in beef that man or woman has ever been subject to. As an ardent lover of PEI, Island Producers and food artistry it only makes sense that this is one of my favorite times of year!

As such, I was given the opportunity to be a an Official 'Certified' PEI Burger Love Burger Blogger! What does this mean, you ask? Only that I get to go and eat, savour and write Love Letters to Burgers that are so worthy of adoration that I wish I had a choir with me here to sing their praises!

So far I've had the chance to enjoy The Griffon Burger at the Dundee Arms, as you can see in the first picture with Sous Chef Michael and I.

And...Found my "Soul Mates" Burger at The Pilot House, where bonding with this Burger was like true second nature!

I've written odes to both of these Burgers terrific, live-changing qualities that I know by now you're just drooling to read...
So click away to visit the Official PEI Burger Love Website and find out what your next meal should look like!

The Griffon Burger - The Dundee Arms

The Soul Mates Burger - The Pilot House

Monday, 25 March 2013

An Epic Interview Celebrating From Away

When I asked readers to send me questions for an interview to celebrate the end of my serial story 'From Away' in the G! Magazine, I was overwhelmed by the way everyone wanted to pick my brain! Luckily, I just adore people doing this and find it thoroughly entertaining to answer just about any question a mind can conjure up. That said, questions of all kinds poured in and I did my best to select the ones that covered the most popular topics and threw in a few that struck me as funny!

But let me just say this, when it comes to From Away general consensus is that I either know, am in love with or have a hidden connection to Erik Deror. My all encompassing response to this is a resounding..."Erik, if you're out thee, drop me an email! I think we may have a future together!"

I would really love to thank everyone who sent me questions, I appreciate your interest in my complicated mind and am so thankful to have such a brilliant, creative and supportive readership. You all mean the world to me and these past seven month of having 'From Away' in the G! Magazine has been terrific!
Without further ado, let the interview commence:

Roseanne via Facebook
Well, well there has been a question I've been burning to ask you...does Erik personify a love interest from your past...or a special someone your heart is drawn to?

M.K.R: Ah, Erik Deror; I can tell you one thing first off and it's that I've become very attached to him as a character. He however doesn't represent anyone from my past; if I had been lucky enough to meet someone as charming and disarming as Erik, I'd likely be married. Even so, however much as Erik has taken on a life of his own, is an allusion to someone who my affections are drawn towards.


Charity via Email
Inspiration is different from everyone, and it's fascinating to know why writers write what they write. What inspires you to write?

M.K.R.: If I had to boil it all down to one thing; the characters. An author spends more time with their characters than they will with any other physical human being. It's impossible not to since they're essentially a part of you. And when you're that connected with any one sense of being, they become a very real thing to you and from that stems an extremely strong need to tell their story. To express to people what the characters can't say for themselves. That responsibility in itself a massive force of inspiration.


Lydia via Facebook
Do you prefer writing with or without your socks on?

M.K.R.: Haha, I love your question! I gotta say though for this one...socks off! Maybe I'm trying to soak up creativity in the floor? Let out extra creativity into wherever I happen to be at the moment? I couldn't tell you for sure... But if the occasion arises when I'm in need of some fancy footwear to keep my toes happy; I find Toms my favourite things to write in and wear.


Celia via Facebok
Who is your muse? Where do you derive your inspiration?

M.K.R.: Muse is such a broad spectrum for me. I could apply it to any number of things, music, environment, books, fashion, lifestyle and all other matter of sensory experience. In the end it all boils down to humans; mankind, which has always fascinated me. All humans at some point become my muse in the things that they do or create. Of course some humans are more beautiful than other to me in their nature and temperament but I can become to comfortable with those specific people. It's those times that I find great revelation in learning to love other types of humans. So muse is a never-ending discovery for me. Although, I've noticed a suspicious trend in my interest regarding people whose names begin with a certain letter of the alphabet but I won't say which since it would be too revealing.


Kevin via Email
"What kind of music do you listen to when you write?"

M.K.R.: Well from the 5,000 song selection on my MP3 player, it's hard to pick just a few to mention. I tend to listen to movie scores a lot because they create ton of action and emotion without confusing what I'm writing by listening to lyrics. I will, however, listen to songs with lyrics if they come from a deeply artistic place. Most recently I've been listening to Hans Zimmer, Danny Elfman, Joe Hisaishi and Jack White's music.


Dillon via Facebook
As a reader AND writer do you feel the message you convey is more important than your audience's interpretation?

M.K.R.: It's a delicate balance really. When I'm crafting a novel, especially particular scenes, I often go back to what the reader's experience will be with the book. Author, character and reader relationships are specifically important for emotionally driven moments. The character's job is to deliver an experience, the reader to absorb and relate to it. As an author it becomes my responsibility to make it something both character and reader can share. Interpretation is key because no matter what it may be that I'm conveying, if I don't make it accessible to as many people as possible, it's lost is efficacy.


Kaye in Person
Is Erik Deror a real person that you know or is he a creation of your imagination?

M.K.R.: Erik is a creation of a creation, made as a compliment to someone; he's a lot of different pieces put together really. Honestly, no matter how closely related any character is a real life person, I could never say that was who they are once they hit the page. Any character, Erik included possess very strong personalities that won't be held within the boundaries of just one person. So even though Erik was made partially with a human in mind, that particular person has become very diluted through the process of Erik taking over his role.


Lydia via Facebook
Do you wake up in the middle of the night with a burning urge to write? Does said burning urge exist and if so, can it be repressed?

M.K.R.: There is definitely a burning urge and mostly it comes in the form of conversations characters are having in my head. They can either be talking to each other, vying for my attention or really expressing something profound about a story. That said, it can hit me in the middle of the night. The reason it's in the middle of the night though would be because they haven't let me sleep to begin with.
I can't really repress the experience and honestly it's better not to. If I'm lying in bed I'll just take it all in and record it in the morning. If it's during the day nothing can stop me from writing. I typically have my trusty writing book with me but if not I'll use napkins, facial tissue, pretty much the nearest thing to me that I can write on. I've always got a pen with me.


John via Email
"So you're always wearing a hat or something on your head. What's your obsession with headgear?"

M.K.R.: I've been asked this a lot in person because I do wear hats or scarfs every day, no matter what...and it's safe to say that they've become a part of me. As for why i wear them, there's been theories but I'm partial to the idea that they keep all the ideas in my head where they belong. It makes sense to me!


From Brenda via Facebook
What kind of stories do you like to write?

M.K.R.: I've discovered that I like to write almost any kind of story, as long as it challenges me on some level and is sort of offbeat. Ironically those are always the stories that come to me, the ones that I can relate to on some level emotionally and that make me step out of my comfort zone a little more each time. I find that a fundamental quality of my work though, the more I'm challenged the better my stories become and so it's grown into a bit of a craving. I want my stories to be the best they can be for my readers and I know the most effective way I can do that is through defying any form of convention I might have. I've grown a lot as a person and a writer through that and so it's safe to say I'll keep using this method for as long as I write.

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

My Short Story Indulgence: Figment

Something incredible happens when an author gives them self total abandon. When you take the opportunity to write something that's very much akin to an extremely emotional piece of modern art. On that concept, I've written a fictional short story that takes a deeper look at the concept of fiction itself, of the power that it has and the way humans use it to escape from reality.

My short fiction story "Figment" puts that under a microscope. Exploring the potential of someone completely given to the lure of fiction and how they're treated in return for such a strong obsession.

Without borders, I've used an artistic style of language and illustrated for readers something that I feel is like a very decadent dessert. So enjoy this indulgence and let it inspire your mind to see what you're capable of when fences are down and you're completely free.

"Figment"

Author: M.K.R. Mossey

That day when the little girl tumbled down the rabbit hole; she was in stitches.
Crowing in merriment during her descent from humanity.
She didn't grapple as adults do, clawing desperately to hold onto the superficial surface.
She could do better.
She wanted to do better than any of them ever had.

The laws of life and death were the first to be thrown away and this utopia could be whatever she wanted.
Perfection was no longer subjective, it became as close to her as what her mind could create.
Unrecognisable to the naked eye, that little girl is me.
Was me.
Is still a part of me with my caustic behaviour burning up the threads that keep me anchored to reality.

It was amusing to hide in the interfernestration. Peeking between reality and fiction at my whim. Taking advantage of both while they mocked me in my ignorance.
Selfish little girl.
Foolish little brat.
Those are the things they said behind my back.
Wanting it all and letting go little by little the further I stepped.
Loping down the garden path with pleasantries on my lips.

Conjuring up chimeras at will, invisible companions that served me in my imaginary world. I was never alone, every second was peppered with a fascination towards what would happen next.
Every square in the chess board suddenly belonged to me and I was intoxicated with the sweet nectar of power and the sheer ambrosia of control.

The Queen; myself.

Given to the nature of my position and a sense of entitlement that grew increasingly detrimental with every spoken word. The crown on my head was cacoethes, so powerful a diving force that each judgement I made became increasingly ludicrous and fanciful. I assumed roles of Queen and Subject. Fulfilling the duties of Murderer and Martyr. So palpable in their essence were my creations, each one with tender words to pacify my fitful existence. But like the tyrant Queen, when I was finally bored with one of my subjects I would kill them. My hands dripping with golden rings created from the ichor of my imaginary casualties. The mourning of the victimised subject that followed was simple audacity, blaming them for having left me alone and claiming vengeance on the evil that let them perish in such unsavoury ways. The masks I would wear were all part of the masquerade, the game of tactics which stained my heart with inky words of every movement I made.


The King; my world.

Bonded to my every move by the consequence of an accidental union. I laid upon my King a mantel of affection which made him bend and conform to every absurd wish I could conceive. I was wilful child, spoiled by her beloved and indulged in every possible form. Every brick in the path, each building in my view, filling the spaces in empty fields and re-drawing every line my vision fell upon. He would colour them in unrealistic shades and trace over the physical with delightful renditions of fictitious muses. Everything was a gift, wrapped up in surrealism for my collection of fabricated memories where I could be whatever I wanted while hidden in the shadow of my King's robes. A sire
to my phantasmagorical children as they came forth from the fabric of oblivion.


The Bishop; my conscience.

Nagging, pulling, pleading, begging through pathetic excuses that filled my mouth with acrid words which I refused to swallow. Bitter medicine that was easily spat out and traded for sharp insults used as a blade to combat logic, dripping with the venom that had filled every pore in my body until it reeked with that intoxicating virulence. I silenced the Bishop so easily in my times of rest, disregarding his sage advice as a nothing more than incessant rubbish. But in moments of discontent when I had been forsaken by my own creation I would retreat to him for absolution. I would nag, pull, plead and beg for an invocation that would cleanse my guilt ridden soul. Each time my repentance would lead to unrepentant folly and the vicious cycle was permitted to continue...


The Knight; my love.

Enticing me with his innocence and ethereal beauty. He was purer than the King and fairer than the reality I had left behind. Our affair was so potent a poison that I became addicted. Each thought laced with the saccharine sweat of our effort to meet against the odds of my mortal existence and my Love's tenuous connection to the realm of physicality. Sight unseen, there was still no retreat from his ubiquitary presence, every voice downed out by his mute demand for my attention as a Queen brought to her knees by illusory power. Keeping himself constantly beyond my grasp, I was inches away from insanity but ultimately obsessed with something I could never have. A game so dangerous it turned my blood to adrenaline and left me begging for more behind the wailing tears, praying for an end to the unceasing cruelty.


The Rook; my guardian.

The gossamer veil that I had drawn to protect myself. To keep my world from others and from the taint of their judgements. The champion that I used to shield myself from the aggressors of sensibility. My self assassinations were few but in the days when my nameless world was threatened, the Rook would hold my hands, lacing our fingers together so that my tantrum wouldn't give into cataclysmic urges. The sweet air that belonged to The Rook was transferred to my lungs, a drug that not only protected the world but me along with it. Each time the corners of creation came free for mortal view, the Rook drew them back behind the curtain of my abode only leaving unsuspecting humans to wonder in it's wake.


The Pawns; my playthings.

People around me forced to be unwilling participants, unwitting enablers in a world where they never knew they existed. Each one dressed in garbs that suited my perception and daily capriciousness. In the front line of my army, I would concatenate each figure and assign them a role in my theatrics. Kind, wicked, pious, vicious, virtuous, apathetic, empathetic, sympathetic but never dominant. Fulfilling the final role required by my voracious appetite for variety and constant stimulation. I used them in their place, no matter their significance they would become a member of the troupe under the fathomless reign of my sceptre. My toys were so numerous that I knew not what to do with all of them but as each position fell in line I could see them clearly for who they were, exactly who I wanted them to be.

The day I descended I had been in stitches, but the stitches came undone when I couldn't climb back out.

The apocalypse approached and my instincts scattered away from the crumbling foundation of all that I had created. But my betrayal and abandon were vain exercises as the mire consumed me, throttling from my throat a caterwaul that would shake the core of my entire being.

Stripped of my title, I suffered a clandestine death, the dust of my destroyed realm stinging my eyes and pulling forward repentant tears that bore the stench of my sins. I created alone and perished without anyone to aid me, the people on the outside only able to see a contented smile.

...and as everything slowly slipped away into the arid silence of realisation, I was left with nothing more than the waning petrichor of nihil.

Wednesday, 16 January 2013

My Mechanical Heart - Chapter Ten

This week of "My Mechanical Heart" is marked in a bittersweet way for me. It's the final chapter of this story and something that I feel was able to express what I loved the most about Will and Helena. The idea of acceptance, dealing with life's curves and embracing one another are all key notes that I hoped would be presented through their relationship.

I bid them farewell sadly; but have an inkling in my heart that it won't be a final goodbye. It's more of an adieu. I can feel my fingers itching to chronicle more of their time together...but when that will be remains a mystery.

But as I step back and observe the story on a whole I feel that boiling it down to one sentence can be very aptly done through Karen O's song "Strange Love" as she sings 'When there's beauty on the inside; the outside there's nothing to change."

So I thank everyone who has shared this time and story with me, I wouldn't have done it without you because a writer's work isn't truly complete until someone enjoys it.

Chapter Ten

- Helena Cope -

The weeks after which followed the dance were strictly ordinary according to Helena's standards.
But that was the amazing thing.
In all the qualities of life that Helena strove for, this was it. So many people would run around trying to impress, trying to make people notice them. For Helena being the centre of William's world was more than enough.
They would rely on each other and in an environment where they were nearly invisible, that was just fine. There was nothing particularly wrong with meaning the world to one person as long as you both felt that your purpose had been fulfilled.
At least that's how Helena felt and she was positive Will was just as completed by that same philosophy.
And on a typical Wednesday, after their classes were over, William and Helena would make their way to Maple Bakery for one of her favourite events.
A 'Gelato Date'.
While she sat in one of the Bakery's window seats, William would go and get a large cup of the delicious Italian ice cream with two spoons and sit down across from her with a quiet smile.
The treat was tasty but it was the company that made it all worth while.
One half of the cup was filled with banana flavor and the other chocolate. The latter facing Helena of course since it was her newly found favourite food. She was in fact obsessed with anything that had chocolate in it; even making efforts to bake better, new and improved triple chocolate cookies. Her surprising respect for chocolate had made Helena into a good baker and a quality that she was quite pleased with.
In the end, she chalked it up to another thing that William had taught her.
But today, as he slowly ate he gelato and waited for Helena to start before he made conversation, she watched him guiltily.
"Hey Helena...is everything okay?" He finally asked as she seemed to refuse to eat.
"Yeah...I guess." The girl replied, poking her little spoon around until her side of the gelato started to go mushy.
"I thought you never lied." Will said, reaching a hand across to table.
But instead of giving him her hand; Helena pulled out a piece of folded office paper from her bag and placed into Will's outstretched palm.
"What this?" He asked, staring at the white sheet.
"Read it..." Helena said softy, turning her face away and staring blankly out the window. And as William read out loud, Helena felt her heart jolt off and on from the way it wracked her emotions.
"Dear Mr. Cope." He started, realising it was for Helena's father-creator. "We, a the New York Museum of Modern Art are pleased to say we have reviewed your submission to our collection. After reading your passionate letter and examining the material you sent with it we are thoroughly impressed at the artistic engineering and modern thinking approach you have taken in the creation of 'Helena'. We take every effort possible to ensure that our Museum houses the most innovative and unique works of art across the globe. It is with all this in mind that we cordially invite you and your..." William's voice slowly slipped away from him in a tone of disbelief and Helena could only turn to look at him painfully.
"They want you?" He asked with a sudden wave of sadness to his usually unshakable positivity. "They want you in New York?" William said again, as if it would be any less true if he repeated it.
The words that Helena had rehearsed in front of the mirror over and over after Clarence had given her the letter failed Helena horribly as she reached forward and took William's hand; the letter crinkling between their palms.
"I found out this morning. I didn't know how to tell you." She said apologetically, staring down at their wasting cup of ice cream before William reached forward with his other hand and gently lifted her chin. His pain was just as clear to Helena she was sure he could see her own on display. But in front of all that, he forced his lips into a brave smile of acceptance that Helena wanted to kiss away.
"Isn't this what you wanted? What you were made for..." He asked delicately, already knowing the answer.
It took a moment for Helena to reply; she knew that he was right and while she wanted nothing more than to stay in their small, blissful existence there was something more that which she simply could not ignore.
"I don't want to leave you." Helena said, knowing that there wasn't a point in agreeing with something they both already knew.
"Hey, I don't want you to leave either..." Will replied weakly, one of those endearing chuckles passing his lips as he said it. "But what else is there to do? This will...complete you, it's what you've needed all this time." His statement was confident but the end of each word wavered with helplessness.
Helena knew that wasn't true; even though William thought that she needed this to make her feel total.
"No." Helena said in the firmest tone she knew how. "That's not true...it's you I needed. Will. I needed to come to this point into my existence, my life, before I could move onto what Clarence created me for." She explained, more assured of this than anything in her life. "If I hadn't met you...people would have loved and admired me vainly. I never would have been able to return any of it or even understand what it means. Everything would be wasted and for nothing, You taught me how to love and be loved. Without that...I'm nothing more than a pile of gears turning towards no purpose." The smile on Helena's face was understanding and grateful. "All those times people refused me was for me own good. Can't you see? If it hadn't happened, we never would have met." Was all Helena was able to say before Will pulled them both to their feet and boldly kissed Helena in the Bakery.
Maybe it was something that he wouldn't have done on any other day but the combination of realisation and understanding was so potent that he didn't know how to describe himself with words or phrases.
It would take something purely emotional for him to convey the strong feelings of love and pain that Helena's words had evoked in him. He would miss her; life wouldn't be the same until he could find a way for them to be together again.
...But until then he had to seal the moment somehow.
Of course, this was one of those moments between people that was simply understood and as Helena stood there in William's arms she knew that he was telling her so many things at once.
Thankfulness, completion, love, devotion and sadness of parting. Will's heart was on his lips. But most of all there was the knowledge that this was a promise; a bond that she too desired to keep between them.
And so that day Helena Cope and William Auditore's paths were entwined together, no matter how far they were made to part or the distance of time fate forced between them seeing one another again and they sealed it with a kiss.

- The End -

Thursday, 10 January 2013

My Mechanical Heart - Chapter Nine

Happy New Year to all of my readers; I'm looking forward to giving you all a yearof new and fantastical stories in 2013. I hope that this year has already started off great for everyone and that the coming months will bring plenty of reasons to wake your imaginations.

This week in the Vaughan Weekly and on my Blog I have Chapter Nine of My Mechanical Heart. Last we saw of William and Helena it looked like their might have been a wedge driven between them from Will's good intentions at raising Helena's self-esteem. Sometimes things don't go as planed, but maybe if we take the unexpected reaction and do the best we can with it we'll learn a lesson ourselves.

We're drawing closer to the conclusion of My Mechanical Heart so savor each moment just like Helena and Will have learnt to do.


Chapter Nine

- William Auditore -

Will was filled with equal parts excitment and trepidation all at the same time.
He knew that it would be impossible to gauge the reaction Helena would have towards the dress he had bought for her.
He also knew she'd be ravishing, but would she be able to see that?
And as he stood in front of the door, tipping back and forth on his feels, there was a nervousness in him akin to the very first time he returned Helena's school books to her.
When she answered the door at first Will was just in such awe that he failed to notice the expression on Helena's face.
"Wow..." Was the only breathless word he could pull from his lips before Helena yanked him into the house with utterly surprising force.
That was when the hurt and angered look on her face made itself undeniably clear and Will felt his heart sink.
"Why did you do this?" Helena demanded in a heart-wrenching tone as she gestured to the dress that was on her. "Did you think it was funny? Didn't you hear anything I've said to you?" She persisted.
Will was only able to open and shut his mouth, trying to find words as he held up his hands in defence. "Helena...Helena, please listen to me!" Will pleaded.
The girl simply dropped her arms and stared down at her shoes.
"I only picked out the dress because I knew you would look beautiful in it. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to see yourself as I see you." William said in the most soothing voice he could muster.
At first Will wasn't sure if his attempt to do something good had done terribly wrong. The look Helena gave him was blank in expression but her eyes were deep in consideration.
"You mean it?" She finally asked defensively. "This isn't like the cookies? You're not lying just to be nice?" She queried on skeptically.
A soft and slightly unintentional chuckle passed William's lips as he reached out and embraced Helena. "Of course not. I wouldn't like about something so important to me." He assured her with a soft smile. "Trust me. You're perfect just like that and when you step out in confidence people will be so fascinated by the real you that they'll only be able to look at you in amazement." Will said confidently, stretching out his arms so that he could take another look at Helena. Over her shoulder he saw Clarence, waiting, watching with a small nod of approval and tight smile on his lips.
Helena's eyes watched William for a moment and he let her go as if to wordlessly say 'I'll wait until you're ready'. And after a second of the girl smoothing out the dress, looking at her self in the foyer mirror and reluctantly brushing her fingers against the stitching in her shoulder. Helena turned to Will. The smile on her face wasn't bright or exuberant but it was placid and accepting.
William couldn't have asked for her to be more gracious in such a situation.
Reaching out and taking her hand, he ushered Helena out of the house and to the car where his mother sat waiting to drive them to the Dance.

*

When William escorted Helena into the Banquet Hall where the dance was being hosted, his senses were overwhelmed by all the points of interest in the room.
Music filled every inch of the space with it's intense bass, lights flashed in time with the sounds and there was a constant buzz of drowned out conversation weaving throughout the crowd of teenagers. If William thought he felt intimidated by everything, he could only imagine what Helena was feeling upon their entrance. She gave no indication that anything bothered her though and William was stunned into silence by that sheer fact.
As the roamed they room together, observing everyone, Helena was so bold as to smile coyly when someone would drift past them and pay her a compliment. Will was sure he heard a few people tell him that he looked good but he merely smiled a nodded; every bit of his attention was spent on Helena with whom he was thoroughly impressed.
They lingered amongst their peers for awhile, tasting the food, taking in the tunes and nodding politely at people. It was too loud to do much or even to have a proper conversation so after a little bit of playing the part of routine party-goers both Will and Helena slipped out into the grand entrance of the Hall.
Sounds still exuded from the room they had left but it was much easier to have a conversation in the entrance where Helena dropped into a lovely wing chair and William sat on the arm of that same chair.
"No one noticed." Helena said in bewilderment, looking up at Will.
"They didn't notice that it was different." He corrected, placing a hand on Helena's shoulder. "When you're simply yourself people aren't blinded by what makes you different; they see it as part of what makes you who you are." Will said thoughtfully. "At least that's what I think." He added humbly, shrugging shyly.
Noddling slowly, Helena seemed to agree with Will as she let her fingers trace the window of her heart. It didn't seem so foreign to William anymore, in fact the clicking of her heart was soothing. William allowed his fingers to trace the stitchesalong Helena's arm; wanting to learn everything he could about what made her who she was.
"You've taught me a lot William." Helena said softly, her dark eyes staring straight into his soul.
"Me? No way, you're the one who's helped me find myself." He said in a truthful tone.
"You don't understand what you've given me William, I can tell." She told him in that soft way that always seemed to mark her charms.
Will was stunned into silence when Helena said this but it was a very lucky turn of events as she song which had been blaring out of the dance room had turned into a lilting melody that William was sure he had heard before. It was one of those popular songs that everyone knows but he just hadn't paid enough attention to.
However with the dim light of the room surrounding them William was inclined to make it something special.
Gently lifting Helena's hand he slipped from the arm of the chair and brought them both to their feet. She looked unsure of what they were doing but it felt too good for William to stop the moment and explain. Instead he brought her close, putting one arm around her waist and holding onto Helena's hand with the other.
Just like their kiss, the first movements of their dance were stiff and awkward but as they swayed to the song there was a natural flow that came to their dance. With the grand entrance all to themselves Helena and Will were able to find a way of their own to dance together across the vast marble floor with sweeping, turning motions that reflected not just the music but the gentle ebb of their emotions and the metronome like clicking of Helena's heart which was the sweetest music William was sure he had ever heard.