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.

coffee table/books

This is my coffee table. My coffee table has not been this clear since before the book tour. I am far too pleased about the clearing of the coffee table, even though it quite possibly involved cluttering other tables not pictured.

I am having one of those days where I have a lot to do so I am procrastinating by cleaning off my coffee table and eating chocolate very seriously as though by treating the chocolate eating as something important it becomes a more productive activity.

Anyway, on to something somewhat productive, I have been meaning to do a post of my favorite books of 2011. Note that they are favorites and not bests. I shall break them in to categories.

 

Favorite book published in 2011. (This one is a tie.)

1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. I lived in this book for a good month, because it is three books and a total of nearly 1,000 pages. I had a very battered galley copy by the end and now my gorgeous hardcover is sitting next to it on the shelf. I was worried that I wouldn’t be satisfied with the ending after so much time and so many pages but  I really was. It’s hard to explain, it’s like 1984 but different. It’s surreal but in a realistic way. It’s a book to live in for a while, sometimes stopping and looking up at the sky to count the number of moons.

Habibi by Craig Thompson. This book is gorgeous. Gorgeous. It is a book to pet and “oooh” over before you even get to the story within it that is equally beautiful. The lines of Craig Thompson’s artwork make me weak in the knees and the lines of the art in this book are so fluid they almost seem to move, as though the ink has yet to dry and wants to stay in motion. Calling it a graphic novel doesn’t properly express what it is, it’s a work of art. Also, Craig himself is lovely and huggable. I know because I’ve hugged him and the fact that I have hugged the person who created this lovely thing amazes me.

Favorite book published in 2011 that I have not technically read. (Though it is on the aforementioned coffee table.)

Hark! A Vagrant by Kate Beaton. Okay, so I haven’t read the book but I have read and loved it in internet form (harkavagrant.com) so I know what kind of brilliance is contained within these pages. I have two book tour regrets and they both involve not meeting people despite being in meetable proximity, one of those people is Ron Charles and the other is Kate Beaton, I know she was at IFOA in Toronto at some point but our paths did not cross which is probably good because I might have fangirled all over her.

Favorite book I read in 2011 that was published in a year other than 2011.

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett. This book had been on my to-read radar (hadn’t even made it to the to-read shelf) and when I was in Mississippi I happened to have enough time to browse books at Turnrow Book Company and found this lovely little edition that happened to be signed and since it was small enough to fit in my bag I had to get it. It then became travel reading and I loved it to bits, for a book that is so much about music it feels like music, soaring and heartbreaking, grand and intimate all at the same time.

Other favorites published in 2011 that I will not elaborate upon to save space:

The Devil All The Time by Donald Ray Pollock

The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Other favorite books read this year but published in years other than 2011:

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters

The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson

Every novel ever written by Dashiell Hammett.

That’s the list, though I didn’t read much that I disliked this year. Fables should have some sort of honorable mention even though I’m still working my way through, and I’ll be surprised if Angelmaker doesn’t make the list next year since I’ll be finishing it as 2011 turns into 2012. And now you probably have a better understanding of what I mean when I say my taste in books is eclectic.

flax-golden tales: beautiful uncertainties

beautiful uncertainties

“Why do you do that?” he asks me, while I’m rinsing off my brushes.

“Why do I do what?”

“Why do you write things you don’t believe on the tables?”

“I believe some of them,” I say after a moment, watching the blue and red paint-tinged water circle the drain in almost-purple swirls.

“You don’t believe that one,” he says, balancing a tray full of empty teacups on one hand so he can point at the still-damp letters.

find the beauty and adventure in uncertainty and you will be free

“I’d like to.” I can’t look him in the eye so I focus on my paintbrushes instead before adding “Maybe someone will read it and think whoever wrote it must have believed it and that will help them believe it, too.”

“I wish you’d just believe it yourself,” he says.

When I look up he’s already taken his teacups and walked away.

 

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

merry & bright in new york

Spent the beginning of the week in NYC, having lunches and meetings and wandering around looking at twinkly lights. Part pseudo-business trip, part getting out of my apartment for a little while. My train down was subjected to zombie shenanigans, though Amtrak claimed it was “tree branches” knocking out “power” on the tracks. Got to New York about five hours late and had to change a lunch to a next-day breakfast but other than that everything was lovely. My first trip to Manhattan in about five years was almost a year ago, just post-holiday rather than pre-holiday though everything was still twinkly-lit. That was the first time I’d met my agent and my editor and September and real book things still felt very far off. What a difference almost a year makes.

Back in Boston now, trying desperately to manage the pre-holiday to-do list and wondering why all the blog comments from the last two weeks seem to have disappeared. Hrm. I shall try to tackle that mystery at some point, in between everything else on the list. In the meantime, here are some festive photos from New York.

 

flax-golden tales: the way home

the way home

I am tiring of paths that lead to walls.

I know each wall will have a door, but they’re difficult to find and even more difficult to open, and it takes up so much time.

They’re roadblocks. Pathblocks, since there are no proper roads.

Sometimes it feels like I’m looking for a place that doesn’t exist.

Or if it does, it doesn’t want to be found.

At least, not yet.

I wonder how long I should keep going.

I wonder if I have a choice.

I wonder if I’ll recognize it when I get there.


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

stars

Since a few people have asked, for the origami stars I followed these instructions. They’re pretty easy, the only complicated part is cutting properly sized paper. Sometimes the edges are hard to squish evenly, but that makes for slightly lopsided stars that look rather endearing in their lopsidedness.