Today, dear web friends, I’m going to share with you one of my old favorites, which is also one of the best books you’ve never heard of.

Okay, it’s quite possible that everyone in the world but me has heard about this book ad nauseum since the day it was released (some time in 1996, I believe), and I, in my little cave of uncoolness, simply missed the hubbub. That’s been known to happen. I’m totally one of those people who would be like–wait . . . the zombie apocalypse started? Why didn’t anybody TELL me? Like at the beginning of Shaun of the Dead. (Am I turning in to one of those people who can relate everything to zombies? That’s a really scary thought.)

Anyway. I first encountered One For The Morning Glory years ago on the bargain shelves at a Barnes and Noble in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I’d never heard of it, but the cover and book description immediately piqued my curiosity.

It is said (by whom, we are not certain) that a child who tastes the Wine of the Gods too early is only half a person afterwards. Young Prince Amatus learned all too well the bitter truth of htat ancient saying when he secretly sipped the forbidden elixir, leaving him literally half the lad he’d once been–not just a figure of speech; indeed, his left side vanished without a trace.

His father, the fierce but fair King Boniface, was (only a figure of speech in this instance) beside himself, and the royal retainers responsible for the mishap were punished severely, leaving the young prince entirely without protectors. but a year and a day later, four mysterious strangers appeared to take their places. And since a year and a day is an auspicious time in tales of this sort, it was clear to King Boniface that Great Matters Were Afoot.

Golias, a burly itinerant scholar, applied for the post of royal alchemist. Mortis, a chilly, lovely sorceress with scaly skin and silver hair, offered her services as court witch. Psyche, a simple young maid with sea-gray eyes and a musical voice, came to be the prince’s caretaker. And seeking the position of Captain of the Guard came a grim, gnarled, giant manslayer in an iron mask–a figure known only as the Twisted man.

There were whispers that these outlanders were not what they seemed, and King Boniface had many misgivings, but at last he relented–just as well, or there would be no tale to tell. As Amatus grew to manhood, the four Companions helped him cope with his curious curse and guided him on a perilous quest to discover his true destiny–and, of course, excitement, danger, tragedy, triumph, and true love.

As I’ve mentioned before, high fantasy (a.k.a. epic fantasy) is not usually my thing; I tend to prefer urban fantasy/mythic fiction. One for the Morning Glory is an exception to my no epic fantasy preferences. I have heard it compared to The Princess Bride, and it does have a similar tone and quirky sense of humor.

There is so much to love about this novel. Characters with names like Pell Grant and Sir John Slitgizzard. A really creepy goblins sequence, and a melancholy, eerie vampire thread.  The kind of prose that makes you want to read out loud. And a brave, strong, smart-mouthed female love interest, who plays an important role in saving the world, rather than waiting patiently at home in a pretty dress.

Come to think of it, all of the characters are wonderful–Barnes writes with humor and wit, but never gets so caught up in his own cleverness that he turns his characters in to farcical devices. And in the end I think what makes this book so delightful is that Barnes balances his wit and whimsy with tenderness and warmth, so that even when you’re laughing, you care what happens to his characters.

So the winner of the Make Michelle Laugh contest is Steph, who sent me the link to Richard Simmons on Whose Line is it Anyway. If you didn’t watch it yet, go watch it. But make sure you can laugh out loud without getting in trouble, use the bathroom before watching, and I’d recommend putting the beverage down until it’s over. Oh, and it is not work appropriate. I laughed so hard I could hardly breathe. It made me wonder if it was possible to hurt yourself with laughing. I will be writing her a very silly story. I hope she likes it.

And now, on with the pretty pictures. This morning I woke up to the first real frost of the year. It was sparkly! Of course sparkle is hard to capture on camera–at least for me–but I did my best.

Winter Savory

Even Rusty Chains Look Pretty in the Frost

I love the way frost makes ordinary things look like something out of Labyrinth. (Does anyone besides me watch that scene where she first gets in to the labyrinth and think, “Man I wish I had the money the film makers spent on glitter?”)

Aspen Leaf

Can You See the Ice Crystals?

It’s clear again tonight, and COLD. There may be more frosty pictures in the future. Just so you know.

It’s a funny world. I was feeling kind of gloomy today. I don’t know if it was hormones, the short days, or the let down after NaNo ends, but I was wandering my house feeling gloomy and not really motivated.

So I decided to have a little contest. Whoever makes me laugh the hardest gets . . . something. Either an oracle reading with The Faeries Oracle, or perhaps I will write you a story where you are the hero(ine). Unless I think of something better. These are not phenomenal prizes, I realize, but this was all unplanned. When I win the lottery, I will have contests with FABULOUS PRIZES on my blog. For now, you’ll have to make do with what I’ve got!

I have received wonderful replies so far. I think I will leave this contest open until tonight at midnight, and tomorrow (Wednesday, December 2) I will announce the winner!

So far my three favorites are:

Richard Simmons on Whose Line is it Anyway

A rant about Pachelbel’s Canon

And The Muppets performing Bohemian Rhapsody

And on a completely unrelated note, I really think WordPress might be lying to me. How else do you explain this?

Search Engine Terms

These are terms people used to find your blog.

Today

Come on, WordPress. seriously? Who are these people, and what search engine are they using?

I ruin the hubster’s fun by making him put on clean clothes before we go to the store. (I don’t care WHICH clothes, as long as they are not covered in diesel fuel or used vegetable oil or something equally unpleasant.)

I ruin the Mad Scientist’s fun by insisting that he wash the silverware when he cleans the kitchen.

I ruin the Drama Princess’s fun by making her wear socks and shoes when she goes outside in the winter.

And I ruin Writing Buddy Laura’s fun by insisting that she forego incest in her novel.

I am such a buzz killer.

So, I spent the past week joyfully slacking–reading novels, knitting, and screwing around on the internet, especially at the Ravelry forums. I have read many books. But because I have forbidden snark on my blog, I can really only talk about two of them. Both were about faeries! Actually most of what I read this week was about faeries. I think I might enter in to a series on faerie lore and novels, but I haven’t decided yet. Would anyone be interested in that besides me? Really, it’s hard to tell, y’all don’t comment much!

Anyway, on with the books.

Wings by Aprilynne Pike. Let us begin with the usual summary:

Laurel was mesmerized, staring at the pale things with wide eyes. They were terrifyingly beautiful—too beautiful for words.

Laurel turned to the mirror again, her eyes on the hovering petals that floated beside her head. They looked almost like wings.

In this extraordinary tale of magic and intrigue, romance and danger, everything you thought you knew about faeries will be changed forever.

Wings was pretty. Very, very pretty. And Pike’s interpretation of faerie lore was one of the more creative I’ve seen. The writing is good, the characters are likeable. But I felt like it seriously lacked tension; nothing really drove me to want to know what was coming next. Still, at 16 I probably would have loved it. I think people who loved Malinda Lo’s Ash would probably love Wings. My biggest complaint? Like Hush, Hush and Twilight, this book just HAD to have a scene in biology class. Come on people, there are other classes in high school, I swear. I never even TOOK biology, and still somehow managed to meet guys.

I also read Need by Carrie  Jones. The blurb:

Zara collects phobias the way other high school girls collect lipsticks. Little wonder, since life’s been pretty rough so far. Her father left, her stepfather just died, and her mother’s pretty much checked out. Now Zara’s living with her grandmother in sleepy, cold Maine so that she stays “safe.” Zara doesn’t think she’s in danger; she thinks her mother can’t deal.

Wrong. Turns out that guy she sees everywhere, the one leaving trails of gold glitter, isn’t a figment of her imagination. He’s a pixie—and not the cute, lovable kind with wings. He’s the kind who has dreadful, uncontrollable needs. And he’s trailing Zara.

Always tired on Tuesday. Always writing buddy Laura’s fault. Up late. Plotting, but mostly bitching. Because a good bitch fest is good for the soul. However . . . you see the results.

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

I had another short attention span day. This means I accomplished almost nothing.

I acquired a new addiction; the forums on Ravelry. Dudes, there are KNITTERS talking about URBAN FANTASY NOVELS. There are people showing off projects inspired by their favorite fantasy novels; addictions within addictions, like chocolate covered crack. For example? Oh I’m so glad you asked. How about Bella’s Mittens? I am knitting these as soon as I decide on a yarn. Yum. Also lots of Harry Potter knits. This makes me want to create projects based on my favorite books. I wonder what I could knit from The Mortal Instruments trilogy? Better not get too carried away though, I have friends who desire plot bunnies. Have y’all knitted anything inspired by your favorite novels? I want to see! I’m SUCH a knitting voyeur, knitter’s do the most brilliant things!

I also worked a little more on my own patterns for the plot bunnies and the drawstring pouch recipe. A  very little more.

I knitted a little bit on my Chrysocolla scarf, which was meant to be my NaNo knitting project but took second place to the plot bunnies. It looks all wobbly right now, inevitable when one of the yarns is drastically thick and thin; I think blocking will help. (Random aside: You know how there’s that site for car disasters called That Will Buff Out? Is there a knitting one called “It Just Needs to be Blocked”? If not, there should be.)

I wrestled with the plot of book two; there are a few points that are ESSENTIAL that I am having trouble figuring out. Hence all the knitting and haunting of on line forums. When I’m trying to shake plot details loose, I do weird obsessive things. You know I’m getting really desperate when I start cleaning the bathtub with baking soda and a toothbrush. I’m not that desperate yet. I hope not to get there any time soon.

I read several chapters of Rosemary and Rue; I’ve heard the book praised highly, but so far I am not in love with it, and I’m approaching the halfway point. Maybe that will change? There must be some reason everyone seems to love it so much. I’ll keep y’all posted.

I went for a walk, sans whining hubster, and was captivated by the holly tree at the end of the road (or rather, the point where the road turns in to a private driveway where I may not enter): I keep meaning to take my camera to get a picture of the gorgeous red berries and glossy dark green leaves. So pretty.

And later I get to go to Writing Buddy Laura’s house, where we will brainstorm, and I will be her NaNo cheerleader since she is not yet finished with her NaNovel. That is always fun!

Although I accomplished next to nothing, it was a relaxing day.

For those of you still in the NaNo trenches–you can do it! I am sending you finish-the-novel-on-time vibes. Go! Write! Win!

I felt that weird, set-adrift feeling I get when I’ve finished a big project (or, in this case, a big phase of a project). I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. I went for a walk (with a whining, protesting hubster). I spent a lot of time browsing the forums on Ravelry. I read blogs. I listened to music on YouTube. And I hid in my room from the Drama Princess and her friends from up the road. For much of the day I felt like the Grinch in that scene where he thinks about the Whos on Christmas morning  . . . “All the noise, noise, noise noise!” I kind of sympathize with him. (Except for the being mean to his dog part. That’s uncool no matter how loud your neighbors–or kids–are.)

I’m so glad tomorrow is Monday, and there’s SCHOOL.

First, I must share a little story I like to call My Car in Flames.

The hubster has been having vehicular difficulties for many days now and has been using my car. But yesterday I needed my car so that I could go to the store, take in  a  matinee of New Moon, and volunteer at the library. So I dropped the hubster at work, and at not quite 5 p.m. I picked him up. We were less than two blocks from his place of employment when my faithful little Volvo turned off with no warning, no fanfare . . . just death. I had enough momentum to coast to the shoulder of the very busy road, and then we noticed smoke rolling out from under the hood of the car. Normally I would figure this meant that the car had overheated, but it just so happened that I had looked at the temperature gauge about 30 seconds before the car died, and it was squarely in the middle.

The hubster hopped out, we opened the hood, and behold . . . flames. Actually, from where I was standing I couldn’t really see flames, just an orange glow from the vicinity of the battery, but hubster was looking down in to the engine and saw them.

Thankfully, he is a mechanic, and also someone who thinks fast in an emergency. He did something complicated with the pulling of some wires, or some such. Then he whipped off his coat, dropped to the ground, and used his coat to put out the fire. That’s right, my husband is totally a superhero.

Once the flames were out, we stood there laughing and watching smoke rise in the rainy dusk for a few minutes while we tried to figure out our best plan of action. Fortunately we were only, as I have mentioned, a few blocks from the garage where he works, so we walked back. Even more fortunately, his coworker was still there, and had a car we could borrow for the night.

But first, we had to get the Volvo off the side of the road, lest she be towed away in the night. We didn’t want to call a tow truck to pull it a couple of blocks, so hubster’s coworker pulled it back with his car. Which weighs about the same as my car. I didn’t want to be stressing out about my car getting smashed in transit, so I stayed at the garage, using the office computer to tweet about how my car had been on fire. Within half an hour, they had the Volvo in one of the bays of the garage, and hubster and I were on our way home in a borrowed Subaru.

What a crazy night!

And the whole time all I could think was . . . I am so grateful the hubster was with me. If I had been alone, I wouldn’t have known what to do, and the car would have burned to the ground while I stood there gawking in dismay. I am so grateful that we were really close to his workplace; it could easily have happened way out in the sticks, stranding us with no working vehicle, and we are possibly the last to people under 60 who don’t own cell phones.  I am so grateful that his coworker hadn’t gone home yet, so grateful that we didn’t have to pay for a tow, so grateful that the coworker had a vehicle we could borrow. If my car had to catch fire, it chose the most convenient of places and times to do so. I feel like the luckiest person ever to have her car burst in to flames.

And most of all, I am so grateful that the hubster is a mechanic. He figured out what had happened easily enough; apparently the battery cables, being run through a wiring harness very close together, have spent the past twenty years rubbing up against each other like drunk college students at a club, and over time the insulation around the wires wore completely through. Once this happened, the positively and negatively charged wires touched, and  . . . sparks! Flames! When they tell you not to cross the positive and negative, the really mean it people. Hubster was able to fix the damage this morning. Something else to be very, very grateful for.

And now, on to your regularly scheduled NaNo post.

I win!!!!! My word count, according to Appleworks, is 100,113 words. According to the NaNoWriMo word verifier, it is 100,885. Of course, the NaNo site say that the word count verifier is in test mode right now, so I will re-verify after November 25 and see what happens then!

More important than the number of words, however, is the fact that the rough draft is finished. Everything I wanted to put in there is in there–and some other things are in there that I didn’t know I wanted, but that really need to be there. Of course it’s all over the place, scenes will need rearranging and heavy revision, some of them will need rewriting . . . but all in all, I feel triumphant. I will allow myself to feel triumphant until it’s time to edit. Then I will remember that I’m actually no where near finished. But for now . . . the glow of completion. The shiny happy green bar of goodness. All mine.

Now I need to think of a working title, so when the 25th comes around I can print my silly winner’s certificate.

This of course leaves me wondering; what do I blog about for the remaining 9 days of NaNo? Any suggestions?

It’s 2 p.m. and I have written NOTHING! I might write some after my shift at the library is over, though, since the friends we were having over cancelled on us.

But y’all, I went to see the New Moon movie and I gotta say . . . I lurved it!

Now, I know feelings about the whole Twilight behemoth run high in both directions–seems like people either love the books or despise them. But I freely confess that I loved the books, and I even loved the Twilight movie. I can’t really justify my love . . . no wait, that’s not true. I’m not even interested in justifying my love. I am happy to be a total dork all alone sitting in bed drinking hot cocoa and reading Twilight.

So, let’s just say that if you hate Twilight, you will ignore the rest of this post, m’kay? And if you love it, and are thinking of seeing the movie, read on.

So, I did love the Twilight movie, as I said–but I don’t think my love was due to any merit on the movie’s part, to be honest. Actually I know it was sort of awful, and I loved it anyway. Maybe I have not matured since I was 16?

I might, however,  have loved New Moon even if I hadn’t already read the books. I really, really enjoyed it a lot.

My only criticism is I thought the wolves were sort of lame. That is, they looked sooooooooo fake. They would have been awesome if this had been an animated flick, but . . . it wasn’t. And their fakey-ness was sort of jarring.

But other than that, I was delighted. The dialogue and makeup were vastly superior to the first movie. I think the right things got cut, and the right things stayed in. Honestly, I think the pacing of the movie was maybe a little better than the pacing in the book. I loved the book, but there were a few times when I was like, come ON Stephenie, get to the Edward already! The movie, being only two hours long, didn’t have that effect on me. Actually I remember thinking, at the part where Bella get’s ready to go cliff diving, I was thinking “No! We can’t be here yet! I don’t want it to be almost over!” I thought it was delicious.

Also? My absurd school girl crush on Robert Pattinson remains true, in spite of my admiration for Taylor Lautner’s muscles. Team Edward, all the way . . .

Mock if you will.