flax-golden tales: heart’s desire

heart’s desire

They say if you capture a golden deer it has to grant your heart’s desire.

I figured therefore they’d be pretty difficult to catch, so when one started hanging around my backyard I devised all manner of clever traps but I ended up offering it a sugar cube and making conversation. Apparently that counts as capturing.

I wasn’t sure if I’d need a cage or at least a rope for technicality’s sake but it explained (between sugar cube crunches) that as soon as it was on my property it was within my bounds to ask. I said that didn’t really sound like capturing and the deer shrugged and said capturing its attention works better than physically capturing anyway. Then it licked the sticky sugar residue off of my fingers. Its tongue was surprisingly soft.

I asked if it could really grant my heart’s desire, just to clarify, because I wanted to be absolutely certain, and it nodded.

But it said that it could tell I didn’t know what my heart most desired, so it couldn’t grant anything right then and it was sorry about that because I seemed nice.

Then the golden deer asked me politely for another sugar cube and suggested I spend more time with my heart.

 

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

january things

So far 2012 has been cold. I always want to hibernate this time of year, post-holidays and winter chilled. Curling up in cups of coffee and trying to get the hang of a brand new year, though I also like to think of this time of year as a trial period, an in-between time before Chinese New Year arrives and the Year can be New all over again, and dragon-y as well.

It’s quiet here in these last year of the bunny weeks, which I need. Time off is not really time off when caught up in a rush of holiday stuff. I am cleaning my apartment and hiding from the cold outside. Slowly catching up on long neglected correspondence and apologizing to the patiently waiting books on the ever-growing to-read shelf. I am considering taking a week off from the internet next week, I’ll see how I feel on Monday. I am feeling extra thoughtful but the thoughts are all floating snowflake thoughts, drifting through my brain and not settling on anything.

Maybe I should just let them drift.

 

These are my January event dates, as far as I know. I’ll update any missing info when I have it.

Sunday, January 15

2:00-3:00pm Newtonville Books/Reading & Signing
296 Walnut Street, Newton, MA.

Tuesday, January 24

7:00pm Joseph-Beth Booksellers/Reading & Signing
2785 Dixie Hwy Crestview Hills, KY 41017

Wednesday, January 25

7:00pm Joseph-Beth Booksellers/Reading & Signing
161 Lexington Green Circle, Lexington, KY 40503

Thursday, January 26

6:00pm reception Salon@615 Series/Reading & Signing
6:30-7:30pm program Nashville Public Library,
615 Church St, Nashville, TN

Friday, January 27

7:00pm Foxtale Bookshop/Reading & Signing
105 E. Main Street, #138, Atlanta, GA 30188

please remember me, happily

I don’t know what to say about 2011.

This year was too full to be easily condensed into a December 31st blog post.

Everything looks different than it did this time last year, and only partially because I have new contact lenses.

I have a new life, in so many new ways.

I’m still adjusting.

Only one star in my hair this year. That’s as much as I can handle at the moment, though I also have the moon around my neck.

(I suppose now I have some sort of tradition of New Year’s Eve webcam photos in which I don’t look at the camera.)

I thought a lot about what the song of the year was, but in the end there wasn’t any competition.

 

It was an almost-ten-minute-long song kind of year. An angel kissin’ on a sinner kind of year.

A frightened trapeze swinger kind of year.

Apparently safety nets are overrated.

So, hello, 2012. I hear you’re supposed to be the end of the world.

Strange how endings feel so much like beginnings.

flax-golden tales: a year of you

a year of you

This year required a lot of bottles. I’m not sure how many, I didn’t count. More than last year, but I didn’t know you last year, which still seems strange.

I needed a very large one for tears cried. More than most years, but the whispered adorations bottle is almost as substantial, and I’ve never needed a whole bottle for unexpected moments of bliss before. It balances, I think.

It was a multitude of bottles sort of year, varied in shape and size and contents.

Now they’re all sealed and catalogued, ready to be stored on their shelf.

I have plenty of empty ones for whatever next year will bring.

I wonder how many of them you’ll be in.


About flax-golden tales
. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

belated post-tour musings & photos

I am always surprised by these last days of the year. They sneak up on me, hiding behind the holidays with a brand new year in tow. I think, “wait, what?” and then it’s January. Every time.

This year is probably worse than most, though, since the last few months have been so busy, though the fall tour is already seeming like a dream in these dwindling days of 2011. I know there are stories that I meant to share that never made it onto the blog (I had such grand plans to do a blog post per tour stop, I really did) but I suppose this will have to do, a late December post of camera-caught images and a few already gone moments in between.

Being on a book tour is a travel tease, you get to see cities from car windows and rarely if ever have proper time to explore. I found this particularly frustrating since I haven’t traveled much, but at the same time it’s like having a little sampler platter of cities. During my second trip to Toronto I had some free time and actually got to see the city from very high up:

One of many views from the CN Tower. I did get to see a fair amount of the city from the ground as well, including a lot of really good food, but it was the only city where I got to have a proper very high view.

Also falling into the interesting view category, on my second very short trip to London, this was the view from my hotel room window:

For those of you playing along, that is St Pancras station, and I was staying at the hotel that is the former Midland Grand, both of which appear in The Night Circus. Also I don’t believe I mentioned before that during that 24 hour trip to London I unexpectedly met Audrey Niffenegger because we both happened to be having lunch in the same teeny tiny restaurant and this is apparently the kind of thing that happens in my life now and also she is delightful & lovely.

I thought about doing book tour hotel superlatives, like Yummiest Room Service Breakfast (Raphael Hotel in Kansas City: portobello & goat cheese omelet with a parmesan potato cake!) or Largest Hotel Bathroom (the Alexis Hotel in Seattle, I have lived in apartments smaller than that bathroom) but then there were too many lovely hotels and I got into weird categories like Most Swoon-worthy Elevator Doors:

The Ambassador Hotel in Milwaukee, all fabulously art deco and you have to pull open those doors, of course. I have a thing for art deco anyway, I think the desk lady thought I was weird when I kept taking photos of the elevators and the light fixtures.

Also while in Milwaukee (in Oconomowoc, technically) I had an event I can’t say was Best or Favorite but it was a particularly nice, something extra thoughtful in the post-reading discussion, maybe I was in a thoughtful mood because I’d found out that Steve Jobs died just before we started (The Night Circus was written on several different Apple computers) and I don’t even remember everything I talked about but it stands out in my memory nonetheless.

There are so many things it seems like too much to have occurred in such a comparatively short amount of time. So many wonderful booksellers and red scarves and readers, it is still so strange to me that people can visit a place that existed in my head for so long, and it is so many people in so many different places. Maybe that’s why I am still dizzy from everything despite the fact that I’ve been post-tour for a while now, though the holidays are always dizzying in their own sugar plum way.

I took this photo in Austin, Texas:

I think perhaps it’s my favorite photo of the tour, for a lot of reasons but mostly because of that “so much” added in different handwriting. That’s what the tour was, really. That’s why it’s difficult to capture in words and pictures after the fact, because it was so much. So much. People and places and airplanes and books and wine and chocolate mice and love.

So much.

flax-golden tales: holiday cheer of the reluctant variety

holiday cheer of the reluctant variety

I despise the holidays, consumerism and plastered-on merriment wrapped in festive ribbons and shoved down my throat before I’ve even taken my Hallowe’en costume off.

Every day a sale and fighting to find the best deals and the biggest tree and Santa Claus on soda cans, though I suppose that one is proper historical tradition by now and not just seasonal marketing.

Still, once it gets down to the dark days of December, there’s that something in the chill air. Something quiet during the longest nights of the year.

With twinkling lights on strings.

And eggnog lattes.

Hot chocolate and candy canes and that horribly intoxicating evergreen tree scent that’s practically mind-altering and the damned Vince Guaraldi Trio and their perfect Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack.

And a well-timed snowfall.

It makes it difficult to Bah Humbug.

Dammit.

 

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.