The Coming Year

The coming of the new year, more than any other holiday, brings both joy and sadness. There is an inherent melancholy; what didn't you do that you hoped to do, what actions or thoughts would you wish away, what have you lost over the last twelve months. No matter how you slice it, another year is gone forever.

But the coming of a new year also brings joy, anticipation, and excitement. What wonders will we experience this year? What will we do? Who will we meet? The road is stretched out before us. And no matter how carefully we plan, surprises are awaiting around every corner. And I think those unexpected occurrences are the underpinnings of some of our most treasured and ancient traditions at this time of year.

And wonderful story fodder.

In times past, more people sent New Year's greetings than at Yuletide. Why? Christmas is a fairly recent tradition in the grand scheme of things, and holiday greeting cards even younger. People of yesteryear were also perhaps more polite; one never knew what beliefs another had and a New Year's wish was considered "safer" than a holiday card. Nice, huh? But then they also sent blatantly Christian spring cards...we humans are a massive stew of inconsistencies. Part of what makes writing so interesting.

I have to start with the most traditional of New Year's symbols: the baby for the coming year and the old man for the passing year. They are a reminder that we too are getting older. The clock in the second card is another reminder, just in case you didn't get it.

New Year's Eve is a magical time...when the clock climes midnight one stands at the moment between what was and what will be. These next two represent that for me: a moon child and star kids.

And then there's the silly. This cat had one too many, I'm thinking.

This one cracks me up. Not sure what's going on...it looks like the dogs are throwing their kibble at the train.

Happy New Year's flight on a dirigible??? One that blows bubbles? Weird.

A popular New Year's pastime was having your fortune read.

There were all sorts of things you could do to ward off evil and bring good fortune for the next year. Below are some examples of luck inducing objects and actions: seeing spring birds, hanging a horse shoe over your threshold, bringing grapes to a neighbor, seeing winter fairies, and ringing bells to scare away evil spirits. There's lots more customs...these are only a few.

Once you've had your fortune told and done all the luck inducing actives, there is also the tradition of making New Year's wishes for oneself or others. I like wishes much better than resolutions.

Here are adults and children wishing for many nice things: toys, vacations, a sweetheart (one wistful one hopeful), not to die during the coming year (that one is creepy...check out the scythe), and of course the overwhelming favorite, gold.

There are also wishes for good behavior, a precursor to our modern resolutions, perhaps. Below we see a hope for an unblemished year, a wish for plenty but only if the receiver is sincere, and a warning not to let go of the past. That one is scary. I'll remember the past. I will. Just don't pipe me away with the rats...

The next two I chose because they are just so pretty. The first is an elegant deco woman...or is she? Maybe she's really a goddess out for a little New Year's fun. And the last one is a wonderful New Year's party outdoors... humans and fairy folk are gathering to revel in the cold night air.

You don't see the fairies? Look closer. There. I knew you could. :-)

Review and a Kindle

Just finished Legends, edited by Robert Silverberg. The term “short novel” is an interesting one; longer stories hovering between the short story and the novel. At least he didn’t call them “novelettes”, which sounds to me like an unholy amalgamation of a biscuit and young socialite.

Anyway. All of the chosen authors are consummate world builders. Each have created and written often within in their lush fantasy environments: Anne Mccattery’s Pern, Ursula Leguin’s Earthsea, and Orson Scott Card’s alternate pioneer America are three of many in this giant volume. I especially loved The Hedge Knight by George Martin, and I will read any story with Granny Weatherwax (Terry Pratchett), one of the BEST literary witches, in my opinion.

Robert Silverberg did a fabulous job filling the reader in on the vast amount of information either proceeding, accompanying, or trailing the selected story, although every tale could stand on its own. I very much enjoyed dropping myself back into trilogies that I loved, such as Earthsea.

The one downside was this book is huge; much too big to cart around with me and the volume would also take a great deal of room on my bookshelf. That got me thinking. Like an armed bandit of old, I like having a book on me. At all times. You never know when you will have to wait in a line. Or fritter away time in a doctor’s office. I also live in a small space. And while my hard backed copies of The Lord of The Rings will never leave my office, the vast amounts of paperbacks were slowly crowding me out of house and home.

I don’t like to get rid of books. What if I might like to read it again? What if late one night I need a book and I have none? A fate worse than death. And then my husband got a Kindle. Next my sister. They loved the thing. I was not convinced. Even though I have sold books to electronic publishers. Why, I don’t know. Maybe I like the feel of the pages. Or the cover art. But as I kept thinking about it, I realized a Kindle had everything I needed; small, portable, and most importantly, containing an electronic archive of books I had purchased. So I bought one. In the long run it will save me money. Many older books you can download for free, and even new books are much cheaper.

The only downside is tub reading, but then, I normally devour fashion magazines under a comforting blanket of bubbles. I know, you can get those on a Kindle too. But I want those big glossy pictures to gaze at. Maybe someday I can beam Vogue on the back wall of my bathroom. Ahhhhhh…

Breaking The Mold

For those of you who read the dance blog my husband and I write together, you will know we’ve faced the consequences of being a shade different. Maybe not a shade. More like the opposite side of the color wheel. The conflict has caused me to think about my motivations, desires, and goals, which is never a bad thing, dancing or no.

I’ve always been different. Partly this is environmental; I was born (thankfully) into a family that appreciates, inspires, and celebrates the off beat, the odd, the unique, and most importantly, being unashamedly yourself. I fortunately married a man who is very much his own man, and loves that I am my own woman. My tastes, therefore, are not bound by anyone or any institution as to what I “should” like, do, or be.

I also believe I thrive on going against the grain. I enjoy being perceived as different. Creative. Experimental. Weird is a compliment to me, as my friends well know.

There are consequences to this outlook. You can’t expect those in charge of the old guard , if you will, to always appreciate wild flights of fancy. In fact, they may fight you. Change, for most people, is something to avoid, even if the end results may be better. If you are different, your life will never be dull, but neither will it always be smooth.

How does this influence my writing? Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, my writing often does not fall into an easily applied slot. This is especially hard for new writers. Publishers are reluctant enough to back an unknown writer, let alone an unknown writer who is…different.

I write in a wide varieties of styles and subject matters. I mix genres. I have sold to multiple corporations. This has confused some fans. And publishers. For example, my latest novel is a young adult fantasy with adult themes…child abuse, death, and the afterlife.

I probably would have more money in the bank if I stuck to tried and true genre rules and fences. But that wouldn’t be true to me, and ultimately wouldn’t ring true to those who read my books. Do I believe I will eventually have great success? Yes. I believe in me. I believe in my work. Do I get frustrated sometimes? You bet. But I’m not giving up. It may take me longer, but that is the consequences of being sideways in a sometimes straight ahead world.

And oh, the magic I can see when I’m facing the wrong way.

PS. Whenever a rejection letter gets me down I think of one of my favorite authors, Ursula LeGuin. To say that she broke the mold is a huge understatement; it could be argued she was one of the first to successfully blend science fiction and fantasy. Below is a rejection letter her agent received for The Left Hand of Darkness, one of the best sci-fi works with fantasy overtones ever written in my opinion, and is considered by many a timeless classic. She posted the letter (without the name of the editor…she was kind) in hopes that it would console new writers. The letter has indeed helped me out of many a funk. Maybe it will have the same effect on you.

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Dear Miss Kidd,
Ursula K. Le Guin writes extremely well, but I'm sorry to have to say that on the basis of that one highly distinguishing quality alone I cannot make you an offer for the novel. The book is so endlessly complicated by details of reference and information, the interim legends become so much of a nuisance despite their relevance, that the very action of the story seems to be to become hopelessly bogged down and the book, eventually, unreadable. The whole is so dry and airless, so lacking in pace, that whatever drama and excitement the novel might have had is entirely dissipated by what does seem, a great deal of the time, to be extraneous material. My thanks nonetheless for having thought of us. The manuscript of The Left Hand of Darkness is returned herewith. Yours sincerely,
The Editor
21 June, 1968