Watercress Goes With the Ears

I feel a wee bit foolish for thinking I was the only one who had read A.A. Milne's Once on a Time. No I don't; I feel foolish for not having heard of it. Or maybe I feel privileged. It isn't often you are able to accidentally save a precious fairy tale in complete freshness till the time you are twenty-one. I feel there is a moral in that, if you like morals. I knew I was going to like the darling when I searched Amazon for random titles by A.A. Milne, hoping against hope he'd have written something readable besides Winnie-the-Pooh, poetry, and The Red House Mystery. There was Once on a Time. A fairytale...why then, it was bound to be nonsensical!

I am such an easy win for nonsense. Wanting to walk circumspectly in the art of spending rare book money, I clicked "read first few pages" and came to the introduction:

"For whom, then, is the book intended? That is the trouble. Unless I can say, 'For those, young or old, who like the things which I like,' I find it difficult to answer. Is it a children's book? Well, what do we mean by that? Is The Wind in the Willows a children's book? Is Alice in Wonderland? Is Treasure Island? These are masterpieces which we read with pleasure as children, but with how much more pleasure when we are grown-up...I confess that I cannot grapple with these difficult problems. But I am very sure of this: that no one can write a book which children will like, unless he writes it for himself first...but as you can see, I am still finding it difficult to explain just what sort of book it is. Perhaps no explanation is necessary. Read in it what you like; read it to whomever you like; it can only fall into one of the two classes. Either you will enjoy it, or you won't. It is that sort of book."

Milne was such a peach when introducing himself; I've never met a better man for the job. He sold me on Once on a Time just by that passage. I ordered the book, received it, and gobbled it. If you're looking for a fresh, hilarious, sweet fairy-tale not so many people have read, your looking days are probably done. In fact, when I finished it last night, there were so many lovely bits I didn't want to forget, I did a proper bit of Sharpie Therapy to remember them by:

This is not one. This is pretty typography.

You really should read it.

In other news, Fly Away Home debuts in just two days!!! Very soon you shall be able to buy a copy, or maybe even gift one to a person you love. But the point of this post was this: "Please read Once on a Time."

That's all. And if it interests anyone, I share a birthday with Wiggs's Very Good Day. ^.^ (and the title of this post reflects the title of a chapter in the book.

The Power of Doing Nothing

This is what we authors need now and then...and this (as far as the great realm of writing goes) is what I have been doing recently. With weddings and rehearsals and recitals going on, there's been no time for writing...but now and again this is just the ticket. It may be a familiar quote (and I may even have shared it before) but I think we can all use a reminder. :)

"Don't underestimate the power of Doing Nothing, of going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering." -A.A. Milne Winnie-the-Pooh

A New Nonsense Project!

I love nonsense. I love the brilliant twists and turns it takes. I love the flash and swing and jolliness of the words. I love, more than anything, the surprise of nonsense--you never know what you're up against. But what I cannot stand is nonsense without a point. Lewis Carroll (And therefore, Alice in Wonderland) makes me simply dizzy. That dashed caterpillar who weaves wreaths of smoke and idiocy around everyone gets my goat. I suppose it's a tad clever, but it confuses the pididdle out of me.
What I like is the sort of nonsense you might find in Ogden Nash's poetry:

The Germ

A mighty creature is the germ, 
Though smaller than a pachyderm. 
His customary dwelling place 
                                                     Is deep within the human race. 
                                                                                                 His childish pride he often pleases 
                                                                                                   By giving people strange diseases. 
                                                                                                   Do you, my poppet, feel infirm? 
                                                                                                     You probably contain a germ. 

It's ridiculous and clever and hilarious all in one. Or the nonsense you must certainly find in Winnie-The-Pooh:

...'There's something in one of the Pine Trees.' 'So there is!' said Pooh, looking up wonderingly. 'There's an animal.' Piglet took Pooh's arm, in case Pooh was frightened. 'Is it one of the Fiercer Animals?' he said, looking the other way. Pooh nodded. 'It's a Jagular,' he said. 'what do Jagulars do?' asked Piglet, hoping that they wouldn't. 'They hide in the branches of trees, and drop on you as you go underneath,' said Pooh. 'Christopher Robin told me.' 'Perhaps we better hadn't go underneath, Pooh. In case he dropped and hurt himself.' 'They don't hurt themselves, ' said Pooh. 'They're such very good droppers.'

 That, my friends, is called Grand Nonsense and it is that that I love. All this to say, there is a way that Is and a way that Isn't, and I vote for the Is. That being said, I wanted to announce one of my newest Sprouts to you. (Sprout. n. or adj. meaning New Project, plot-bunny, inspiration, etc.)

This Sprout, at present, has a humble name: The Traveler.

 It is a book that chronicles the windings and travels, adventures and acquaintances and whatnot of a young fellow--a journalist--(nameless, to help things feel mysterious-er than ever. ;) who, in order to avoid bankruptcy, must take up a bet from his fellows journalists that he can't visit every region of the world in a year and send them back an entertaining story of his experiences in each. He takes up the bet, he takes up his things, and off he goes into the far reaches of the Victorian-era world. That is the basic plot of The Traveler, and I will keep it as my Relief-Project to work on when everything goes batty with my other W.I.P.s :) The flavor is decidedly Dickens-ian. It is also decidedly nonsensical. I love it already. You will be hearing plenty about The Traveler in the weeks and months to come so there is nothing else to be said! Cheerio.

"I asked you, Young Man, how much you're in for?"

"Fifty-pounds, Auntie."

Aunt Kate turned pink on her cheeks and white around her lips and looked altogether apoplectic for about five minutes. I slouched in my corner, wishing to goodness that I could disappear and never come back—never see Aunt Kate like this, never have to pay up to the Boys for all my stupid debts, never have to look myself in the “I” again. No, I do not mean “look myself in the “eye”—that is quite a different matter than looking in the “I” which is rather too close to the “me” and the “myself”, and once you’ve looked into those three it’s all up with you.

 -The Traveler

Thingish Things

I feel very sober and wise as I begin this post. I believe that feeling is courtesy of Gollum's Song playing on Pandora...I feel old as Galadriel and twice as sagacious. ;)
You all know by now my fondness, amounting almost to a passion, for well-written children's literature. You have heard how I adore A.A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh series. And you know that I can rummage up a quote for any situation from the said trilogy. I found a quote that so perfectly describes the sensation of your thoughts not transcending to your pen, that I believe it needs no other introduction:

"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

*Happy sigh* Isn't that perfect? I think it is. When I'm feeling like a Bear of Very Little Brain, the thingish things inside me don't translate very well.

"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way."

And then there are the opposite moments when my brain seems to do brilliant things without asking my permission and surprising me with their originality. Thingish things indeed, come out of those moments! How precious they are! These moments most frequently come when I am not worrying about the propers hows and wherefores thereof. :)

"You can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count."

:) See? There are days when following the rules of writing simply does not count, and you might find that you've come up with something unexpectedly Thingish! :)
A very Thingish sort of something happened in Puddleby Lane. I had not even thought there to be a such a place secreted about Piper's Corner, but I will let you read about it:

"They followed Ann Company through the meadow in a long line—Frank right behind Ann Company with Dot on his shoulders, Maggie at his side, and Cora and Tuck trudging along in the rear. All at once Ann Company seemed to disappear.

Cora started in surprise and ran to the head of the line. Ann Company’s red head bobbed along below her feet. It was then that Cora saw the steep path spiraling downward, hidden in the meadow-grasses. The meadow must be the tops of a bluff, she realized. Cora tossed a questioning glance over her shoulder at Frank.

'Go ahead, Corie. We’ll let you walk into the dragon’s lair first.' He winked and shifted Dot from one shoulder to the other.

Cora stepped carefully down the bank at first and threw her arms out for balance as the sandy path slid away beneath her feet. She gave a brief squeak and caught at a rust-colored vine.

'Don’t you worry none, Miss Cora. The sand’s a soft fallin’ place if you do end wrong-side up, but you’ll soon be getting’ yer Puddleby legs.' Ann Company put out her hand and Cora grabbed it.

Behind her, at the top of the path, Frank helped Maggie and Tucker down, then gingerly began the descent himself. At the bottom of the path the group paused. The sides of the red-clay bluffs surrounded them like a wall with an opening before them showing a piece of the blue water with fluffy clouds above.....

Ann Company pointed toward the opening in the bluffs. 'This place is called The Needle’s Eye. Folk say it’s on account a’ the fact that th’ houses on Puddleby Lane were built by well-off society men, and since the Bible is allus a’saying it’s harder for a camel to pass through the eye of the needle than a rich man t’enter the Kingdom a’ Heaven, folk kinder thought it’d be a good reminder.'"

There it is. I'd never in my life thought of The Needle's Eye, but it popped up, an age-old fixture of Puddleby Lane and stared me down, daring me to write it in. :) A rather intriguing place, is it not? The other Thingish thing in P.L. is Cora's hump-backed trunk papered with illustrations from her favorite classic novels...how did I think that up? I didn't think it up. It entered the story and is there to stay, all on it's own. And now I want that trunk for myself....
....Really want it....

:) Any thingish things been happening over in your writing corners? :) ~Rachel

You're Never Too Old For This! =)

Hello Fellow Scribblers! :) Before I begin this post, I thought I'd remind you all that there are only....22 days to enter the Autumn Writing Contest! Yes, I know publicity reminders are irritating, but I only have one real entry right now and I'd love to hear from all you girls on there! Thanks to my several new followers! You girls are what will make this a cozy little blog! :) Now for the real business.... Some poor people labor under the delusion that the Winne-The-Pooh books by A.A. Milne are for children. If you think that is a funny and wrong statement, I believe you have never read the real books! Read this quote from one website:

"Interestingly, Milne didn't write the Pooh stories and poems for children but instead intended them for the child within us."

And I have found this to be wonderfully true! :) In my opinion, Disney has watered down the Winne-The-Pooh stories and characters until they are for children and no one else. But I have seldom seen such wit and comedy in any other easy-reading book that you can find in the Winne-The-Pooh series! The humor is characterized by mispellings, amusing capitalizations, adorably choppy conversations, and...Pooh logic! Here are several quotes from the various books:
"Just what I feel," said Rabbit. "What do you say, Pooh?" Pooh opened his eyes with a jerk and said, "Extremely." "Extremely what?" asked Rabbit. "What you were saying," said Pooh. "Undoubtably." Piglet gave Pooh a stiffening sort of nudge, and Pooh, who felt more and more that he was somewhere else, got up slowly and began to look for himself. "But how shall we do it?" asked Piglet. "What sort of a lesson, Rabbit?" "That's the point," said Rabbit. The word "lesson" came back to Pooh as one he had heard before somewhere. "There's a thing called Twy-stymes," he said. "Christopher Robin tried to teach it to me once, but it didn't." "What didn't?" said Rabbit. "Didn't what?" said Piglet. Pooh shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It just didn't."

"Well," said Owl, "the customary procedure in such cases is as follows." "What does Crustimoney Proseedcake mean?" said Pooh. "For I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words Bother me." "It means the Thing to Do." "As long as it means that, I don't mind," said Pooh humbly. "The thing to do is as follows. First, Issue a Reward. Then---" "Just a moment," said Pooh, holding up his paw. What do we do to this--what you were saying? You sneezed just as you were going to tell me." "I didn't sneeze." "Yes you did Owl." "Excuse me, Pooh, I didn't. You can't sneeze without knowing it." "Well, you can't know it without something having been sneezed." "What I said was, `First Issue a Reward.' " "You're doing it again," said Pooh sadly."

"A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back....

Our bear rejoiced like anything
To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed "The Handsome." There he sat,
And certainly the man was fat.
Nicknamed "The Handsome." Not a doubt
The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
Might yet be named "The Handsome Cub"!

Anyway, I hope you will read A.A. Milne's books and enjoy them as much as my family and I have! It may be strange to believe at first, but one of the chapters in a book that we have laughed at so hard we cry is the "Heffalump-Hunting" chapter of one of the Pooh books! Read them! They are amazingly funny! :) -Rachel