Wuthering Hyders

100 Posts


Am I really only on my hundredth post? Seems like I should have gotten here long ago. I wish I could think of something truly memorable to share, or something that's at least mildly entertaining. Alas, such is the mundane life I lead. No base jumping or tightrope walking for me. I HAVE been venturing out of my social shell a bit more, though. I've actually started using Facebook to keep in touch with people. Granted, it's not exactly brave to sit at the computer, but it's a step, okay? I'm trying not to end up like Salinger.

I've been getting back into reading some of my favorite classic authors lately. I bought a new copy of George MacDonald's "Phantastes" and a collection of C.S. Lewis's. I ended up giving the latter to my grandfather for his eighty-fourth birthday last week. He published a book of his own a couple of years ago and it meant a lot to me. He'd been working on it for years and I know it was important to him to share it with the family. He and I got to talking about books and he told me he'd never read Lewis and I couldn't believe it! In some ways, Lewis reminds me of my grandfather. They both have/had such a profound and deep relationship with God. They are both what I consider to be gentlemen. They both shared their souls with the world. Two great men. You see why I had to introduce them. I hope they get on as well as I imagine they will.

Reading these stories I love so much makes me wish I could write them. I don't believe the world has given us anyone who could hold a candle to authors like MacDonald, Lewis, and Tolkien. The one exception I would make, is for James Oliver Rigney Jr., better known as Robert Jordan. What I wouldn't give to spend an evening in the company of these late, great writers. They were the true masters of fantasy. Their books changed my life in ways no other author has. They made me BELIEVE. I find it shocking that MacDonald has not been given his due these days. Movies have been made of Tolkien and Lewis's works, but they, themselves, were inspired by MacDonald. Few stories even come CLOSE to the wonder of "Phantastes" and "Lilith". I haven't even read all of his works. They're not exactly easy to come by. Easier in this age of internet shopping, but still not that common. The thought of such tales being forgotten is horrible.

I could go on about books forever, I suppose. Not surprising for one who dreams of having her very own library someday. Not a public one in it's own building really. I'd likely be happy with a rather large room in my house full of shelves of books. Dark wood, a stone fireplace (although fire around the books makes me kind of nervous so I'm not settled on this), over-sized chairs, and one of those rolling ladders to reach the higher books. A couple of really big windows with a window seat would be nice, too, but with heavy drapes to keep the sun from bleaching the spines of the books.

As long as I'm dreaming, I want it inside of my own English manor complete with moor, garden, and staff.

And I want a pony, too.

So there you have it. One hundred posts and still going. Exciting, isn't it?