Happy November!

It's a full moon tonight.

Did you know that in certain Balkans folkloric traditions, inanimate objects left outside beneath a full moon will turn into vampires?

(Vampire boots. Vampire bikes. Vampire umbrellas.)


My Halloween was dreary and damp, but I did get invited to the library staff's party. (I spend so much time in there, I think a lot of people assume I am an employee, or else extremely studious.)

We ate owls:


They were by far the best owls I have ever eaten.



Costumes I saw:

Captain Kirk, Malibu Barbie, Eddie Munster, zombie, zombie cheerleader, zombie Catholic schoolgirl, zombie park ranger, Pippi Longstocking, medieval Batman (actually just a knight costume with a bat motif, according to its wearer, but I prefer to think of it as medieval Batman), zombie with a classic "bedsheet ghost" costume draped over top to create a terrifying zombie trick-or-treater, the Queen of Night, dragon, Artemis, fairy, zombie fairy, Mary Poppins, zombie Celtic warrior, zombie housewife, Tank Girl, Gogo Yubari, "lipstick librarian," spider, gypsy fortune teller, werewolf, candy corn, zombie UPS guy, princess, zombie princess, Link, Max in his/her wolf suit and crown (the character is a boy, the person in the costume was not), zombie waitress, and, of course, two-bit floozy with animal ears.

I was lost things. Mainly, this involved wearing the sort of clothing I normally wear, but sticking all the lost things I found over the course of the day in my pockets, or safety-pinning them to my jacket.

like Oz with more heart, or Narnia sans religious preachiness and racist/chauvanist undertones

If you haven't been following Catherynne M. Valente's excellent online serial novel, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, I strongly recommend it. I'm bringing it up because the story appears to be nearing its conclusion (I almost wrote "approaching its conclusion," then realized that was ridiculous-- there is nothing else to be approached, after all, it's only a matter of nearer or farther, a satisfying or an unsatisfying end), and I'm increasingly impressed by the growth of the protagonist, the way certain plot elements are being tied together, the mix of whimsy and nuanced emotional depth, the thoughtful deconstructions of or extrapolations upon common elements in fairy tales and children's fantasy stories, ect., ect.
This week's installment had a very, very well done twist (which I'm certainly not going to spoil here). It made a lot of sense, in retrospect, and there are very subtle hints at it in the preceding chapters, but I honestly didn't see it coming at all. (This is saying something. I am not a person who is usually floored by plot twists or surprises.) I will say-- or hint, or warn-- that it is a sad, even tragic, kind of twist, and that I cried a little.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making is updated with a new chapter every Monday, and follows the adventures of a young girl named September, who voluntarily goes away to Fairyland when the opportunity is offered to her by the Green Wind, and ends up attempting to save it, and her friends Ell the Wyverary* and Saturday the Marid**, from a corrupt Marquess (who has a very fine hat). Once again, check it out. And yeah, it's technically free, but probably it'd be nice to donate some money to the author if you like it, and can afford to.

I don't like writing book reviews when I like the book in question so much that I know my write-up is just gonna amount to an advertisement for it in the end, but I really do think this one needs more attention. It's wonderful.



* His mother was a wyvern and his father was a library.

** Marids are blue-skinned warrior people who live in the sea and have an extremely non-linear sense of time, so that they experience past, present, and future simultaneously. They can grant wishes, but only if defeated in battle. That's in this story, anyway.

things that go bump in the night

Sometimes I used to,
sleepwalking,
tripping out of bed,
opening windows, pushing screens
from their moorings, letting white moths
come in, and mosquitoes. I'd wake curled
in the closet, the pattern of the rug stung
into the skin of my face, my spine cramped,
my fingers bitten.

Vampires, of course, but only
on purpose, when they want to scare you.
They're too graceful to trip,
and can fly, besides. You have to let them in,
but they can look like bats, or friends, or white moths
so you won't know what they are until it's too late.
And they have hypnotic voices, besides, and mesmerizing
eyes. It's not a rule that can keep you safe.

But vampires
are so trendy these days. They're not scary
like they used to be. They play in punk rock bands.
They worry about their love lives.
They go to fifth period geometry
and doodle human circulatory systems and pierced hearts
in the margins of their black notebooks.
They live in apartments.
They wear silk.
They pour your coffee at diners.
Their fingernails are clean.
Vampires don't mean unbridled,
unrestrained, unapologetic, all-encompassing
hunger
anymore. We have zombies for that, now.
We make new monsters.
I suck the blood from my own fingertips
and I sleep on my back till the windows leak light.



(for Sunday Scribblings.)