De-Cowled – A Poem

During the night

I dream of myself.

I am wearing a cowl

that covers my face.

I am in a room

made entirely of stone.

There are candles that

flicker with light and shadow.

A woman approaches me

with her hands held out.

“I knew you would come to see me”

She says. Her eyes are a deep violet,

her smile warm. She radiates light.

“How did you know I would be here?”

I ask her. Though I have never been here

and do not know the woman,

I don’t feel any fear. Only a sense of calm.

“I always know when those seeking answers will arrive.”

She shrugs.

“It is the way.”

She sits and I do the same,

sitting across from her.

She takes my hands in hers

and I experience only a warmth

that drives away the chill

of the stone room.

“You wish to know if you are on the right path?”

“Yes.”

I whisper.

“How did you know?”

“You have an inquisitive spirit. It is written on your face.”

I say nothing, the truth of her words

ringing inside of me, as if my body

is agreeing to her words with

every fibre of its being.

“You are on the right path, but you must look where you are going.”

She squeezes my hands.

“To do that, you must see.”

She reaches up and pulls the cowl

down off my head.

The room we are in is transformed

from cold hard stone to a field of grass.

Trees and blue sky surround us.

I wonder if it was there all along.

“Do not be afraid of seeing, of taking hold of what you want.”

She begins to fade, her violet eyes

becoming a misty gray.

“You must remain true to yourself.”

Bright sun fills the grass covered room,

more brilliant than the sun.

My eyes open in the darkness

but a shadow of the bright light remains,

infusing everything I see.

Picture Me Gone by Meg Rosoff

 

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Mila has an unusual way of seeing things.

She can read a room the way others read body language. She can look at every day ordinary objects and learn about the people that inhabit them. She can also read people in the same way, knowing that what they’re saying and what they actually mean often aren’t the same thing.

When her father’s best friend goes missing right before Mila and Gil are supposed to visit, they make the trip from London to America anyways to look for Matthew. However, the situation is jarring for Mila, everything is out of place.

His beloved dog, Honey, has been left at home. So have his wife and new child. What’s going on? No one would just walk away from all that. There is more going on than meets the eye, but no one looks at the world quite like Mila and she’s determined to find answers.

Mila is also worried about her friend Cat. Her parents are going through a divorce and they are tearing her world apart. Can Mila make sure that Cat is all right even as they go to another country?

Everyone involved in Matthew’s disappearance is hiding something. However, when the betrayal happens, it turns Mila’s world inside out and leaving her questioning everything she thinks she knows…

Every novel by Meg Rosoff is different. We’ve been treated to a post apocalyptic tale, a story about Fate, a historical novel and magical realism. Rosoff again changes track and gives us Picture Me Gone which is a combination of a mystery entwined around a coming of age story.

Rosoff’s strength lies in the characters and worlds she creates. Mila will pull you into her story from page one. It helps that there are no quotation marks around dialogue, so that it’s as if you’re reading Mila’s diary or thoughts.

Mila is also a phenomenal character, both sympathetic and intelligent. Her story is instantly readable because her voice is so real. It as if you’re merely reading words that are already inside you so true is Rosoff’s tone and pitch.

Rosoff also doesn’t pull any punches. Her novels always deal with life’s tougher subject without sugar coating them, particularly unusual in young adult fiction. She doesn’t talk down to her audience but instead forces us to look at the world through her characters with unflinching beauty.

It also deals with coming of age and parallels. Gil is not abandoning Matthew and Mila won’t abandon Cat. Learning about the story between Cat and Mila just deepens her character and our understanding of her.

This is a novel that deals with relationships, people we love, secrets, lies and betrayals. It is also a novel of what truth is and the strength of the human heart-and Meg Rosoff handles all these things and more with grace, beauty and aplomb.

I can’t wait to read it again.

The Monarch Key by Darren Craske

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Having solved the mystery of the Hades Consortium and uncovered the truth about his life, circus conjuror Cornelius Quaint is looking for a quiet life.

Being back with his circus and all its performers should feel like bliss after all he has been through .However Cornelius Quaint can’t shake the need to do something. Cornelius is a man of action and being immortal is no excuse to get lazy.

Thankfully, the Queen of England offers the perfect distraction to boredom.

Queen Victoria wishes to invoke the powers of the Monarch Key, given to Quaint when he saved her life on a previous occasion. The Queen only gives the key to trusted individuals and there are only seven in existence.

She needs Cornelius’s help. Her close personal friend, Lady Crichton-Blake, has been murdered. The Queen wants to know the obvious questions: how, why and who? However, when Cornelius arrives on the scene, he notices two things:

The first being that Lady Crichton-Blake’s head has been removed. The second is that playing cards have been strewn across the floor and the one missing card is the Queen of Diamonds. Upon looking at the cards more carefully, Quaint realises that the killer isn’t done. They are only just beginning.

With the help of Madame Destine, Cornelius Quaint will have to use all his cunning to find out who the next target is and where they will be, before time runs out…

I love Cornelius Quaint. I don’t know how he does it, but Darren Craske always manages to top his last book and The Monarch Key is no exception.

Cornelius Quaint is as suave and debonair as usual and Madame Destine as all seeing. What makes The Monarch Key so incredible is that you have no idea where the story will go. Just when you think you have it figured out, Craske pulls the carpet out from underneath you.

What starts off as a brilliant murder mystery takes an incredible turn when we’re introduced to a medium capable of contacting the dead. Rather than being a fraud, however, the medium is the real deal. She also has it in for Quaint and Destine.

I wondered where the Quaint series would head next. After the closing off of the four book story arc, where Quaint finally learns the truth about his childhood and takes on the Hades Consortium, I wondered how Craske would continue the story. What could be next for the conjuror?

After finishing The Monarch Key, and being left with one heck of a cliff hanger, all I can say is that I’m anticipating the next book with relish. Craske continues to write some of the most amazing books with the most wonderful characters and his genius for storytelling knows no bounds.

I can’t wait to read the next adventure and catch up with Cornelius, Destine and company again. I have only one request for Darren Craske: write faster!

 

Endless Possibilities – A Poem

It’s been a long time

since I’ve wanted to

get to know someone romantically.

Normally I’m confident,

unafraid, calm, centered.

That was before.

Now I carry something with me

internally and externally.

On the outside, there is

my third leg, the metal appendage

that helps me to get around.

On the inside, it is the unseen

that I carry with me, that shapes

how I walk, how I function.

The seen and unseen

shapes the first impression

the romantic interest has of me.

More often than not, they will

take one look at third leg made of metal

and want nothing to do with me.

When they find out what is unseen

inside of me, most want less than nothing

to do with me. But every once upon a time,

there will be one person who will see

beyond the seen and unseen, and only

see what is inside of my heart instead.

And then, the possibilities are endless.

Chalice – A Poem

It can take only seconds

to break the chalice.

That internal barrier that we

keep within. It is holds our

dreams, hopes, and wishes

and is very fragile.

Every time I fall,

my chalice breaks.

It shatters inside of me,

though my body just bruises.

I jingle with the clink

of broken glass.

Later, I’m able to shake

the glass from my skin. Soon I am

surrounded by pieces of glass,

shards of them, in a pretty

smoky blue hue. When I’m done,

I get my bottle of glue.

Every time I fall,

I glue the pieces of the

chalice back together.