No excuse. None. Preoccupied, but not kidnapped. Working, but not in a jungle with no internet. I was teaching a class of Junior Fiction writers today and it took me back to some of my absolute favourite books. That was a segue from ‘kidnapped’. Did anyone else get an unrealistic expectation from childhood novels that there was an exciting dangerous life to be had, replete with smugglers, hooded strangers, mysterious happenings and cryptic cues? Even the odd secret passage or two. I certainly did and, I must say, have been mightily disappointed on that score. Perhaps that’s why I write…
Mondoodle drawn in an old notebook, Tuesday (damn) July 6, 2010 at 11.30am. In a tram.
And tell me your expectations from your childhood readings. Anyone actually try to get down a rabbit hole?
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Reading books in my childhood, I relished the idea that the mysteries of the world – islands with ruined castles, post-apocalyptic wastelands, secret underground faerie kingdoms – could only be uncovered by children. How wonderful that adults didn’t know everything!
My dad and I used to walk through what I believed was an enchanted forest and create stories around the goblins who lived there – it was all our own and still stands, magical and splendid, all these years later
Dear Elise,
I–even now–believe stuffed toys will move around in the mid night. I tried again and again to see their secret festivals. But they have so sensitive ears that can catch my tip toes…and Little Sadami could not see them. I imagined…
So, today, I make my imaginations into drawings.
What a wonderful drawing you upload! I love this sooooo much!! Me, too, want to check my tail RIGHT NOW!
Love and smile,
Sadami
Elise,
I grew up reading Swallows and Amazons, and always imagined having advantures like they did on the water – pity I never had the chance to sail till I was an adult. But one particular disapointment I remember clearly – several books I had read talked about lagoons – beautiful tropical waters behind high reefs (particularly ‘Killashandra’ – I read sci-fi from a young age. ) When my parents told me there was a ‘lagoon’ at Peterborough, on the great ocean road, I was VERY excited and was so terribly disapointed by the mundane reality of a salt lake behind the dunes….
Oh Leesie, this takes me back!
Thanks to May Gibbs and her bush and water babies, stories of Flower Fairies and the Narnia Chronicles, I believed our garden was filled with all sorts of wonderful creatures. Up until an age I’m not willing to disclose, I used to get those old polystyrene meat trays and create mini playgrounds and shelters for them. Moss for a springy, velvety carpet, toadstools, leaves and flowers for furniture, shelter and other decorations…
I’m still drawn to old wardrobes, with an almost obsessive compulsion to feel through to the back, just in case.
Love your sketch.
xoxo
SW – where was this? It sounds magical. It’s funny when you grow up and revisit places and the scale has changed. I know what you mean – it was so easy to think that these things were in our world, and we’d see them if we believed hard enough.
Sadami – you’re not alone there! Though that made it bad when staying somewhere with spooky toys.
Suzanne – you just took me back to that book! I really didn’t like sailing but everything in those books sounded so wonderful. Some books leave you with such a strong impression don’t they? That for me was all skipping breezes and rippling waters and adventure.
And Mary – So gorgeous – I can see it now. It’s the scale, isn’t it, that’s so wonderful. So easy to be obsessed by tiny things and the privacy of a miniature world… And I’ve checked out my fair share of wardrobes. Even though you know it’s not really going to happen, I so desperately wanted it to.