Silent Sunday

photo courtesy of my brother

Friday Flash Fiction

Amy C at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie atTink's Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you publish your Fiction Flash  on Friday - 350 words, give or take.


 This week the prompt was posted a bit late so I consider it a perfect excuse to continue my story from the previous week, shamelessly ignoring the pic. It presents a fallen angel. Not my favourite fictional creature to say the least of it. You might understand my aversion if you look at..ehem...her:

I would have to murder her so let me continue the story of Thera Jones, a teenage girl who wanted to trifle with a handsome librarian and found out soon that a library might be not the safest place for such pranks. The first part you can find here.

Thera woke up. She thought her head must have swelled to the size of a watermelon; additionally it was stuffed full of barbed wire. The bad taste in her mouth reminded her of the stench of a burning rubber tyre on a hot summer day mixed with a rotten carcass of road kill...She swallowed and started to toss from side to side, trying to find a position in which her head would hurt rather a fraction less than more. After a while somebody put a straw into her smelly mouth. When she was drinking wonderful spring water she heard the voice of her mother.

"Easy, kid, drink and don't move; you will be ok soon."

Oh great. Was she at home? How did she get there? And what was her eternally busy mother doing by her side? Didn't she have any ward duty or something? As if she could read her mind, her mother added:

"You are in the hospital, Thera, but I will take you home soon. A colleague agreed to cover for me this evening."

Hospital? How come? Thera started to remind herself the events that led to her being taken to a hospital for the first time in her life and simply couldn't remember anything. Then she thought about her book and the library guy...ok, so she was supposed to go there and somehow weasel out of paying a fine but whether she succeeded or not she didn't know - it was like a black curtain. Gosh, she even didn't remember if she talked to him or to somebody else...great, first the hospital then a memory loss, perhaps even a brain haemorrhage or paralysis...her panic rose again and she started moving restlessly  her limbs just to prove herself she could.

Somebody opened the door to her room and entered inside. Thera opened one eye and focused on a man in a white overall. Her mother started to thank him for coming - apparently it was a doctor. He brought a handful of papers  and handed them to her mum, still flustered and babbling her thanks in a less and less cohesive manner. Thera has had enough. She sat on her bed. The effort made her dizzy but it paid off -  her mother finally went silent. The doctor looked at her.

"Great to see you are feeling better, Miss Jones. Could you tell me what happened to you at school?"

"No, I can't. I don't remember anything apart from the fact that I wanted to return a book to the library."

Thera tried to keep her voice as matter-of-fact as possible. She was a bit ashamed of her mother. The doctor eyed her thoughtfully.

"What did you eat for breakfast, young lady?"

"Breakfast?" Thera almost snorted. "I don't eat breakfast, sir. Bad for my stomach"

The doctor cocked one brow. Thera couldn't fail to notice that he was quite handsome. Men, even in a form of handsome doctors, can be so disgustingly dumb, though...

"Bad for my stomach - it makes it less flat, you see. Distended. Bloated. Flatulent. Unaesthetic," she explained in a patient tone of  somebody who must spell slowly the simplest truths and do it in a respectful way.

Now her mother was blushing.

"Thera how come you failed to mention to me your little...er...breakfast problem?" she asked before the doctor had time to react.

Thera gave her an insolent stare.

"Tell me mum, do you eat breakfast?"

Her mother blushed deep crimson and couldn't find the answer for a moment or two. The doctor looked at Thera again, clearly amused by the whole scene.

"Oh well. From now on, however, Miss Jones has to eat her breakfast and perhaps also wear more loose-fitting clothes to hide that ugly, bloated stomach of hers. The results of her blood tests seem to be in perfect order so I suppose it was just a temporary indisposition. But if she faints again we will have to keep her in hospital bed longer and examine her more thoroughly."

In your dreams, thought Thera, smiling angelically. She was definitely feeling better.

Image by dhobern via Flickr

***

When they got home, Thera's mother took an officially looking sheet of paper out of her bag and signed it.

"Here," she said, handing it to her daughter with a smile, "your parental consent form. I never knew you liked books so much to apply for a two-month library internship. To tell you the truth the librarian looked surprised as well but I must say I am glad. A good decision. Let's hope you are finally getting wiser."

Thera almost fainted again. Her memory returned.

Review: Unraveled by Courtney Milan (Turner #3)

Book info:
Form: Kindle e-book
Genre: historical romance
Target audience: adults


Synopsis: 

“ ‘Well’, Miranda said. ‘It’s a sweet tale about kittens and puppies and rainbows and love.’ “

If I were cruel I would leave you only with that quote (loc. 4736) which is great, true, cynical and deceptive at the same time. Officially it is a romance novel but it also reminded me of Eugene Sue and Jane Austen – not bad authors to be compared to!

Miranda Darling is a gifted girl like no other. She has been raised among actors and had a fairly happy childhood. Unfortunately she was soon left alone because her father couldn’t get over the death of her mother. Not only alone but also burdened with another child, Robbie, abandoned by an actress and left to her tender care.

Now they try to survive in Bristol’s slums watching each other's back. Miranda sew and make wigs but it is hardly enough to make the ends meet. She is under the paid protection of a shadowy crime master called the Patron - in return she must use her acting talents whenever they are needed. For example in a court. There she catches the eye of Smite Turner, one of the magistrates with total recall, a sense of justice and a logical mind which is like a knife all blade (Rabindranath Tagore, I owe you!). You can figure out the rest…their romance will be not only inevitable but also very funny…wait, I almost started the next section without being aware of it!

What I liked:

The sense of humour. I found it the biggest asset. I really laughed out loud at least several times reading this one, you must admit not a mean feat for a romance book. There were plenty of highly entertaining scenes – let me just list the best ones: the first visit to a theatre with a mistress in tow, a night in a country inn with the same mistress who pretends to be your wife (Mr and Mrs Dashwood – any Austen fan will howl with laughter!!!), a ‘date’ in a prison and a supper afterwards…overall whenever Miranda showed her freckled face and her mop of red curls things immediately got interesting – well-done! Not to mention an underestimated, humble punctuation mark which here was tantamout to love...or lack thereof. I will try never to forget a comma any more!

All in all the above-mentioned lead female character (ladies first) was sensible, clever, resourceful and as level-headed as I like. In fact Miranda Darling is currently my favourite romance heroine. Why? She speaks her mind. She knows what she wants. She uses every opportunity to get it. No stupid secrets, no hasty decisions, no hysterical regrets or useless crying the morning after, when you cannot change anything anyway. She knows when to say ‘no’, she knows when to say ‘yes’…that’s my girl!

Smite Turner was a perfect Introvert who’s been through a lot and has to deal with it. In my humble opinion the author rendered his character in a great way, making him a really three-dimensional romantic nerd (no kidding – his sentimentality quota are the best proof!). If only there were more of such romantic heroes I would read these books more often…

Now perhaps you wonder: what about the baddies? I am proud to say that the baddies here are…not exactly bad. They are human and sympathetic (I can’t say more without spoiling you so let’s stop here) so closer to real life than you could reasonably expect in such a novel. Once again I was very pleasantly surprised.

The narration was so good that I devoured the book during one evening – not because I wanted to know what would happen (it is a romance book with a  pretty much predictable plot – they fall in love/lust/ go to bed/ have some troubles/ reunite and/or marry) but because I was so entertained that I didn’t want to stop.

Let me add that, aside from a number of hot and heavy make-out scenes, there is also unexpected depth and emotion in this story. These characters are layered and feel very real so this book pushed a number of buttons for me.

Finally the research behind the book (it is a historical romance from the 19th century) was flawless – the ship, the petty court records, everything fitted. Ms. Milan – I truly appreciate!

Cover art

The dress and the colours are nice, I love this deep emerald -blue, but I doubt Miranda would appreciate a portrait of her when about 3/4 of her face are invisible...

What I didn’t like:

Well, you know me. I am yet to find a flawless romance book but this one came very close indeed. One negative remark - the ending could have been a bit more bitter-sweet but still it was very amusing, mainly because of the cynical Miranda.

Final verdict:

I actually had to design a new button for this one. Let it speak for itself.

About Introverts and myths...so a bit about Anachronist

This entry will be a bit revealing. It is an excerpt taken from The Introvert Advantage (How To Thrive in an Extrovert World), by Marti Laney, Psy.D. According to the book, only about 25% of people are Introverts. A section of Laney’s book tries to explain that phenomenon and it maps out the human brain. It seems that  neuro-transmitters follow different dominant paths in the nervous systems of Introverts and Extroverts. If the science behind the book is correct, it turns out that Introverts are people who are over-sensitive to Dopamine, so too much external stimulation overdoses and exhausts them. Conversely, Extroverts can’t get enough Dopamine, and they require Adrenaline for their brains to create it. Extroverts also have a shorter pathway and less blood-flow to the brain. The messages of an Extrovert’s nervous system mostly bypass the Broca’s area in the frontal lobe, which is where a large portion of contemplation takes place.


Here are a few common misconceptions about Introverts (with my personal comments - enjoy!) :

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

In my case - 100% true. Small talk is like a chore to me. A very unpleasant chore bordering torture.I never seem to know the right things to say.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

I used to be horribly shy in my teens but now I am closer to that description. Indeed I don't interact just for the sake of interacting and smarmy politeness makes me wary more than anything.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Once again - 100% sure in my case. I've had very unpleasant experiences concerning this aspect. I tend to avoid bigger family gatherings and such - now you know why.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Well, definitely true. I hope so at least.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Recharging is as quintessential as breathing to me. 

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Right again. Daydreaming...I've been told off for this since I remember. Now it is less noticeable - I can pretend better. ;p

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Definitely true. I've never followed any trends, not even as a teen. NEVER. You can imagine where it put me - I've been an outcast through and through.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Right again but only up to a point.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Public places wear me down thin...but I do know how to relax. 

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
A world without Introverts would be a world with few scientists, musicians, artists, poets, filmmakers, doctors, mathematicians, writers, and philosophers. That being said, there are still plenty of techniques an Extrovert can learn in order to interact with Introverts. (Yes, I reversed these two terms on purpose to show you how biased our society is.) Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

I am not sure about my IQ, sometimes it tends to get lower, but I definitely cannot change myself sufficiently to pass for an Extrovert. Sorry.

Musical Monday, 12 of December

Welcome to Musical Monday! 

It's Monday: do you need something dynamic with a strong rythm to help you start the new week? Here you go: Storytime by Nightwish. Enjoy!

Lyrics

'Twas the night before,
When all through the world,
No words, no dreams
Then one day,
A writer by a fire
Imagined all Gaia
Took a journey into a child-man's heart

A painter on the shore
Imagined all the world
Within the snowflake on his palm
Unframed by poetry,
A canvas of awe
Planet Earth falling back in to the stars

I am the voice of Never-Never-Land
The innocence, the dreams of every man
I am the empty crib of Peter Pan
A silent kite against the blue, blue sky,
Every chimney, every moonlit sight
I am the story that will read you real
Every memory that you hold dear
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/n/nightwish/storytime.html ]
I am the journey,
I am the destination
I am the home
The tale that reads you
Away to taste the night
The elusive high
Follow the madness
Alice, you know once did

Imaginarium, a dream emporium
Caress the tales
And they will dream you real
A storyteller's game
Lips that intoxicate
The core of all life is a
Limitless chest of tales

I am the voice of Never-Never-Land
The innocence, the dreams of every man
I am the empty crib of Peter Pan
A silent kite against the blue, blue sky,
Every chimney, every moonlit sight
I am the story that will read you real
Every memory that you hold dear

I am the voice of Never-Never-Land
The innocence, the dreams of every man
Searching heavens for another Earth

What do you think?

Review: Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

Book info:
Form: e-book, mobi format
Genre: historical fiction
Target audience: history geeks, adult and young; other readers as well


Synopsis: 

England in the 1520s. Relatively young Henry VIII has a family-related problem - a wife much older than himself and no male heir. Should I say more? His story of love and marriage with Anne Boleyn has been done to death – you might choose between books, movies, plays, you name it. This time it is presented from the point of view of Thomas Cromwell - a man of humble background who starts as a blacksmith’s runaway son and a mercenary; then he rises to become one of Henry VIII’s top advisers and courtiers. But the king is volatile: one day tender and kind, the other day impatient and even murderous. Cromwell helps him break the opposition, but what will be the price of his triumph?

What I liked:

First let me just say that the scope of this novel is simply immense. I was totally awed that Hilary Mantel set out to describe the whole tumultuous period in English history, not focusing on just on Henry, Anne, the court and the plotting but showing also the struggle faced by those behind the scene - simple people like a mad village prophetess or a little French thief, Christophe, who asks Cromwell for protection and a job…those huge proclamations or big meetings between the rulers are here too but the most important scenes are described by Cromwell, sitting alone at his desk, thinking and reminiscing. It was spell-bounding, like watching a real-time strategy game, not like a boring history lesson.

The narration is hardly linear – you must pay attention and let the book take you forth and back but I must say in my case the effort paid off. From time to time I felt as if I was sightseeing the 16th century England.

Thomas Comwell painted by Hans Holbein via Wikipedia

The novel was very well researched and rather detailed but it didn’t spoil my reading pleasure. Thomas Cromwell –what a main character! The word ‘three-dimensional’ doesn’t do him justice – not really. Small wonder I simply couldn’t get enough of him. He was a charmer and a bully, both idealist and opportunist, astute in reading people and a demon of energy: an honest person but also a consummate politician (say: liar), hardened by his personal experience, implacable in his ambition and cunning. Very human, very flawed, completely ruthless but not to those who are weaker than himself. He lacks principles but it is actually an advantage if you live in a period when people with principles are being beheaded for them.


Finally Henry and Anne…those two have been portrayed time and again from every angle - most often he is the beast (big, fat and red) and she is the beauty (dark, delicate, feminine). Well, not in this book. Anne is definitely one of the baddies here – cold-hearted, false, overly ambitious, cunning and selfish to the extreme, especially considering her treatment of her pretty sister, Mary. I did start pitying the king as he was portrayed here – he fell in love with such a snake of a woman.

What I didn’t like:

As I mentioned above the novel is long and complex. If you don’t have enough time for it (like at least several days, I am not kidding), don’t start it – it is not a flaw, just a warning- because then you will be forced to drop your reading and the return is not exactly easy – think about the return of the king in LOTR and you might get an idea how difficult exactly it might be. ;)

I did try to pay attention but still sometimes I had trouble with distinguishing characters, especially that there was a number of people called Thomas, Anne, Jane, Mary and Henry (in that one it seems that indeed every man is called  Tom, Dick or Harry). From time to time somebody is referred to by his or her name and other times by his or her title. That's why it happened I had some trouble keeping track of who was saying what and to whom.

Final verdict:

I recommend this book to all fans of good historical fiction, no matter how many versions of Henry VIII's story you have read/heard/seen. However, if you happen to suffer from low boredom threshold or you are being busy you might find Wolf Hall quite a challenge. This book demands your full attention not unlike a king or a queen.

Anne Boleyn the evil queen via Wikipedia

Friday Flash Fiction

Amy C at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie atTink's Place have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you publish your Fiction Flash  on Friday - 350 words, give or take. Here is the picture posted this Monday:

I am still a bit ill but the devil in me couldn't have missed such an ocassion...which means I am definitely better. ;-) Oh well, judge on your own.

Thera knew she had to return that book to the library. It was already like two weeks overdue. She was sure she would have to pay a fine even though that new, totally hot and as hunky as hell intern librarian clearly fancied her. She smirked remembering his chocolate eyes with long, velvety eyelashes which measured her up and down. Or his wide shoulders. Or elegant hands with long, slender fingers. Other girls talked about him as well. Like 24/7. Ok, let's try some damage control - with him being on duty she definitely stood a chance.

First the right make-up - not too much but enough to emphasize her assets. Then the right clothes. She put on a rather tight blouse and the shortest hip skirt she could find, both items taken straight from her younger sister's wardrobe. The kid was smallish but fortunately plump enough to wear the same size. Almost. And Thera attended the same school so their uniforms were similar...Finally dark brown stockings, matching the skirt and ending right below the hem. They must have been a good choice - every male passing her had his eyes glued to her legs. Some of them frowned, some smiled, other wolf-whistled but nobody was left indifferent. On the other hand most girls looked right through her as if she was made of glass. Great. She knew that look only too well - in the humble opinion of other females she was too attractive to live -the most sincere compliment another girl can pay you without actually saying a word.

Thera entered the library like a model would enter a catwalk - ramrod straight, swaying her hips, pouting her lips. And froze. The hunky specimen of librarian male hotness was nowhere to be seen. Gone to a gym or being on a date? Hiding somewhere in a corner? Powdering his perfect nose in the toilet? She looked around. Nobody. Thera cussed but luckily not too loud. An elderly woman wearing bejewelled spectacles emerged from behind one of the shelves and met her gaze. She felt her chances dwindling to zero. Where did that ridiculous old crone come from? Oh right, from behind the shelves...

The old crone appraised her shortly and smiled.

"Hello my dear. What can I do for you?"

Die, just die, you are so old nobody will notice anyway...thought Thera viciously.

"Er...hello, Mrs...Ms...well...hello, nice to meet you and I want to return a book..."

The woman smiled showing dainty, sharp teeth.

A pretty lousy smile, cheap dentures...commented Thera in her head.

"It's Mrs. Raffle and nice to meet you too. Please, give me your name and put the book on the desk."

"Thera Jones."

Stuff yourself with it.

"Oh dear. Miss Jones, could you spell your first name for me, please? There seem to be at least four different students called like you but I am sure the spelling will clarify everything."

Oh dear? Do me a favour...

"Yes, of course. It's T-H-E-R-A."

"A nice name. I'm afraid the book is overdue and you will have to pay a fine, pretty name or not. Unless..."

"...unless?"

UNLESS?

The librarian reacted immediately, as if she waited for that simple word. She grabbed Thera's hand and pulled her closer without missing a beat.

"Unless you agree to volunteer and work here for twenty hours after your classes. I think you might be the right person but to be completely sure I must see your reflection in our mirror - as simple as that. Do step behind the counter and follow me, my dear...yes, take this book of yours with you if you like and please, don't pretend to be shy, with such clothes on nobody would believe you anyway...this way please, just stand and watch."

Dazed but curious, Thera followed the library woman. Soon enough she was positioned before a large mirror, over two meters long and at least two meters wide. Why library people needed such a thing at all? It was their working place not a freaking changing room in a...Thera looked and froze for the second time. Her reflection didn't look right. Her back was on fire and her both hands emitted kind of blue thunderbolts. The most surprising thing, though, floated above her head. A fire crown. Good heavens. Somehow she didn't feel flattered. She knew she was hot but a fire crown seemed to be a bit over the top...surely there were prettier girls who deserved it, even in this school...

All of a sudden the hunky librarian guy she had hoped to meet and wrap around her little finger joined her. Or rather joined her reflection in the mirror. He put his arm round her waist, smiled and said:

"She will most definitely do, my lady."

Thera fell to the floor in a faint.