Старий Будинок - читаю українською

В цьому році я хочу прочитати якомога більше книжок українською мовою, бо вважаю, що в нас є багато цікавих книжок та авторів про яких мають знати, і до того ж, я маю намір написати декілька власних казок та історій українською мовою. "Старий Будинок" від видавництва Фонтан Казок перша книжка, яку я прочитала в цьому році. На сайті видавництва зазначено, що це містична повіть. Я б додала, що це не тільки містична повість, а й фантастична, магічна та зовсім неординарна історія з ексцентричними героями, цікавми подіями та дивовижними відкриттями, які відбуваються в старому будинку, в якому, здається, вже багато років ніхто не живе. Також мені дуже близька головна тема повісті - про те, що будь-які речі, чи то будинок, чи то маленька чашечка, що були зроблені з любов'ю, мають свою власну душу, а також, що є в нашому світі люди, які знаються на цьому та які роблять усе, щоб їх зберегти. А щодо обкладинки, то вона мене просто причарувала, і я вже не могла не купити цю книжку.

Harry Potter Moment of the Week #15

Harry Potter Moment of the Week is a meme hosted by Leah @ Uncorked Thoughts and Micheline @ Lunar Rainbows Reviews. The idea is to share a favorite moment, magical item, character, spell, quote, object from the books, films or J.K.Rowling herself!

If you could change one thing from the second film, what would it be?

Unlike the first film, which I saw before reading or even knowing about the book (it's hard to imagine that there had ever been such a time when I knew nothing about Harry Potter!), I saw the second film after reading the book and I found the transition from page onto screen somewhat disappointing and underwhelming. That's not to say that I did not like the film - in fact, I was re-watching it just the other day – but I'd made the horrible mistake of expecting to see things in the way I had imagined them while reading the book and that can never be good. It did make me have a huge crush on Lucius Malfoy, though. But then again, even my mom had one! He-he. Anyway, what I was really looking forward to seeing and what came as a massive blow when I didn't was the ending – the impromptu all-night Hogwarts feast as it was. I honestly thought that they would film it just like in the book instead of taking out several bits and leaving the actual fun part out! 

Harry had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pyjamas, and the celebrations lasted all night. Harry didn't know whether the best bit was Hermione running towards him, screaming, 'You solved it! You solved it' or Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring his hand and apologise endlessly for suspecting him, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle, or his and Ron's four hundred points securing Gryffindor the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had been cancelled as a school treat ('Oh no!' said Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news. 'Shame,' said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. 'He was starting to grow on me.'  (CoS, Chapter 18)

This is such an excellent scene! Would it kill them to film it just like that?

My first writing-related blog post in which I set out to discuss my current writing project but which led me to discussing writing as a source of ultimate self-indulgence instead

One of my writing-related resolutions this year is to be a constant and committed blogger that I've always wanted to be but for some reason never could. Actually, now that I come to think of it, there are quite a few reasons for that, but this post is definitely not about them. With that in mind, I've started making a list of topics I could or should write about — I'm not sure how many I'll come up with, because, let's face it, what hasn't already been written, discussed and dissected over and over again by better-versed people out there (I did come up with ten at least!) — so I've decided that the best place to start is to write about the writing project I'm working on at the moment. After all, this is something that no one else but me can write about. Of course, it's pure self-indulgence to write about something that no one else but me can possibly be interested in at this point, but that should hardly stop me, right? I mean, writing in general is self-indulgence incarnate — for isn't it why most of us write — to indulge one craving or another? 

To write about the kind of romance set in another place and time that we will never experience in real life, isn't that an indulgence of our desires? Or to write about something that gnaws or terrifies us in order to face it and deal with it if only on the pages of a book? Well, one has to start somewhere. Or to write about some social injustice that makes us really angry in the face of our powerlessness and inability to change it in order to draw other people's attention to it, hoping that by writing about it we will finally manage to make a difference? I believe we indulge ourselves with every line that we put down and, as far as I'm concerned, that's one of the most harmless but at the same time satisfying ways of indulgence out there. Maybe you disagree that writing is an ultimate source of self-indulgence. I hope you do. I would welcome a discussion in the comments section. But maybe you agree? That's even better! Do tell me what needs and desires have you been indulging writing-wise lately? 

However, back to the topic at hand (boy, I do have an awful tendency to digress, don't I?), which, by the way, is once again all about me indulging myself and creating the kind of characters, settings and romance that I can only dream about in real life. I'm currently working on another novel set in Regency England (my fourth one in this genre if anyone cares to know) in a fictional town of B-. I'm writing it in dual perspective mode, one chapter from the hero's perspective, another chapter from the heroine's perspective, which I hope will create a nice bit of tension, curiosity and uncertainty. I want chapters to contradict each other and readers to find themselves at a loss as to who to believe or sympathise with, based on the contradictory nature of information they receive from different quarters and opposing camps. I'm experimenting a lot here and I know that I'll have to do a ton of research once I've finished the first draft, but for now I'm indulging myself in bringing two very unlikely people, separated by age disparity, financial situation and position in society, together. 

I think the fact that this is not the first time that I'm working on this novel gives me an indisputable advantage by making me feel like I've come back to a place that I know as intimately as I possibly can. I know the characters, their backstory, their current story, their surroundings, their passions, their pet peeves, their friends and foes, and, of course, the setting that exists only in my mind but is slowly taking shape on the pages of the book that is yet to be. I have some very colourful characters here, some of them caricatures of truly unpleasant people I've met in real life (I sense a pattern of self-indulgence here). Luckily for me, on previous occasion, just before I decided to abandon the project yet again, I had enough common sense and circumspection to write down a more or less detailed outline of the novel and, having been visualising it for such a long time, I find writing it less of a challenge and more of an — well — indulgence, really.

So, now tell me...

Writing — the ultimate source of self-indulgence. Agree or disagree? via @faridamestek (Click to tweet)

How New Year celebration finally lost its magic for me... or not?

I have something of an obsession with New Year celebration – to hear me talk about it you'd think I still believe in Santa or something – and I think it's high time I looked the truth in the eye and re-evaluated my attitude towards it. So why not now? For years – despite all the evidence to the contrary – I've managed to convince myself to believe that it's a magical time of the year and that it should be celebrated with real pomp and gusto and with the table laden with food. I get really excited about a week before the celebration when it's time for the preparations to begin. In fact, I can spend the whole year thinking over and over again about something that will last less than an hour. 

Traditionally, my aunt cleans the flat and my mother puts up the New Year tree. In the meantime, my cousin and I make a list of presents we are going to buy as well as the festive menu that we are going to have; for some unfathomable reason it's essential for me that we have as many traditional New Year dishes on the table as we can possibly make, though we hardly go through half of them before we are full and sleepy and have to change into our pajamas, because our festive clothes have become too tight and uncomfortable. I think about the music we will listen or dance to (something we never actually do) and the films we will watch and I remain in the state of heightened excitement and anticipation even though I know that the only thing I will be getting (for example this year) is a pair or two of woollen socks, because that's all I've asked for. 

Naturally, once the actual celebration comes, it's swift and underwhelming. I become heavy with all the unnecessary food consumed at night, dizzy from a single glass of champagne (yeah, that's me) and kind of depressed when everyone goes to bed while the fireworks are still going off in the distance. I usually celebrate with my family and whenever we are all together I make sure to prepare some fun activities to enliven the traditional New Year celebration, which in our country in general seems to consist only of eating, drinking and watching TV. In this case the celebration lasts longer. 

This year half of my tiny family went to celebrate New Year elsewhere (to an actual themed party at a castle-like nightclub with their favourite music band no less!) and I remained at home with my mom. We could have gone downtown to watch the festivities there, but I couldn't imagine leaving our dog and cat alone, knowing how terrified animals are of fireworks. Surprisingly enough, our dog was more or less calm about them this year (having found her shelter in the bathroom) and my cat, who had never seen them before, was actually fascinated by the sight and kept avidly looking through the window in hopes of catching another colourful fountain of light erupting outside. 

Shortly after 11pm we thanked and said good-bye to the old year, shooing it out of the front door with our best regards, drank champagne, had some food, watched TV; an hour later we greeted the new year, exchanged presents, drank champagne, had some food (at which point my mom confessed that she could have done without the last helping of 'Оливье' commonly known as 'Russian salad') and watched some more TV. A slight snow was falling outside, creating a very New Year-y atmosphere. However, my mom fell asleep on the sofa with the book I had given her soon after that and when I woke her up to have some more champagne she said that she needed to have some proper sleep. I sighed but let her go. I stayed up a bit more, drank another glass of champagne and half an hour later went to bed too, feeling a great fit of dizziness coming over me. I woke up feeling calm and resigned. Apparently, I have finally grown out of my illusions.

P.S.: We had a short walk before breakfast and as we walked along snow-dusted streets surrounded by traditional peace and quiet of January 1st with sporadic explosions of fireworks that sent my dog back home I had some time to contemplate my reaction to this New Year celebration. I must say that if I'm completely honest with myself it's not all that hard to understand why I feel this way. Apart from having a ridiculous notion that something exciting and fantastic is going to happen, it all comes down to the fact that each year I make the same wishes and resolutions and then the year goes by and I look back and realize that I have to make the same wishes and resolutions all over again.

Don't get me wrong, I am profoundly grateful for health and relative financial stability of my family and I never forget to be thankful for that. However, there are other things that I want to have and accomplish and maybe I am asking too much but I just can't help feeling a tiny bit sad about it. So I'm going to make the same wishes and resolutions once more, because I have another excellent chance to fulfil them and I hope that I won't waste it again. Here is my annual pledge: I'm going to forge useful acquaintances, new friendships and lifelong partnerships both online and in real life; I'm going to keep looking for a literary agent, finish my current writing projects, establish my online presence and become a constant and committed blogger.

In the end, I must say that it was a very low-key, relaxed, pleasant celebration that predictably ended too soon, because neither me nor my mom are good at staying up all night. I'm already planning my next New Year celebration though and I think I'm actually going to do something different and fun. And this time I mean it!

Beware of what you read...

I don't normally have dreams and if I do, I don't usually remember them. But, I guess, it's hard not to remember a dream in which you were preparing to depart from this world into the next one, your family around you, fussing about what you should take with yourself. It didn't help matters that the dream was extremely colourful and detailed. I remember that in the dream my mother was helping me to pack my bag as though I was going on a trip, though the knowledge of my true destination hung – unspoken – in the air. I remember two brightly-burning candles blowing and twisting in the wind that seemed to be confined to the bell jars they were in. I remember packing my favourite books and other stuff that I thought I might need or might not imagine my 'life' without. My grandmother was there too – an ominous sign, because she is dead. 

I woke up disoriented, panicked and scared. No surprise there, right? It took me a few minutes to calm down and realize that it had just been a really creepy dream, albeit of high-resolution quality. It didn't take me long to figure out what had caused it but the unpleasant feeling didn't leave me for a while. I was sitting upright in bed, blinking and rubbing my eyes as the deep steely-blue sky was gradually lightening outside. I started recalling a jumble of lines from CATCHING FIRE that I had been reading on the eve, having seen the final film of the series earlier in the day. Katniss resolved to die in the arena in order to save Peeta's life; she was mentally saying her good-byes over and over again, preparing herself for the inevitable final act of sacrifice: “Since I don't plan on making it back alive a second time... This time I don't have even the slightest hope of return... I'd actually figured out what I wanted my last words to my loved ones to be... It's my dying wish... I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return...” 

If that wasn't enough to effect the pattern of my thoughts and turn them into a nightmare, just before falling asleep, I was also listening to the chapter from HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE dealing with horcruxes, their purpose and Lord Voldemort's life-long ambition to avoid death at all costs. Dumbledore and Harry's discussion must have seeped into my open, unprotected mind, relaxed by sleep, twisting and tangling my thoughts and playing tricks with my subconsciousness, making me the main character of a story and sending me off on a quest... However, my granny disappeared before the end and the dream dissolved before I could be whisked away. I think entirely too much. My brain is always working and buzzing with thoughts. Before reading and listening, I was reworking a piece of my own writing into a first-person narrative, influenced by the powerful narration of THE HUNGER GAMES books, where a certain grandma (based, I admit, on my late one) and interrupted sleep played a central part in the short scene that I had written.

I wanted it to be tense, terse and gritty but then I realized that as much as I want it to have an impact on readers like a punch to the gut it just doesn't belong in the fairyland world that I've created. I don't imagine that I will be trying it again but here's what I've written:

I yawn and feel my eyes fall shut even as grandma's snores start rumbling again across the room. They become so loud the windows begin to rattle in their frames and as there is no wind there can be only one explanation for that. It's been a long day - Throne Room Days are always the longest - and I'm tired of playing the same game over and over again. For the last two hours or so I was trying to focus my wandering attention on the chapter assigned for my today's after-dinner perusal. But I had to stop every quarter of an hour and shout "Grandma!" - about the only thing that has the power to stop her snores. Even if it is only for five minutes. Here they go again. I grit my teeth and shut the book. The History of the Upper Kingdom. Did I tell you? I am the High Lady of the Upper Kingdom - a magic kingdom ruled by women but currently plunged into loneliness and gloom by a certain curse - and it is my duty to know the history of my kingdom and my people by heart. But not today. I shut the book and put it on my lap but it slips down and disappears out of sight. Woo, my trusted friend and wolf, stirs on the rug at the foot of my armchair, ready to pick it up. I tell him "No". Not out loud, though. But through a secret mind bond that we share. I can't stand the rolls of my grandma's thunderous snores any more. "Grandma!" I shout. She stops mid-rumble, chokes slightly, opens her eyes and clears her throat. Out of the corner of my eye I relish the sight of her startled gaze. I pretend that I had not spoken. I do not stir. I stare into the fire as though hypnotised. Avoiding eye contact and conversation is the best policy. Sure enough, the next moment she goes back to sleep and I sigh and relax because it is so very quiet. The fire is blazing in the grate now and I feel so snug and warm, cocooned in my shawl. I can't resist the pull any more. I yawn, snuggle deep into my armchair, close my eyes and doze off...   

Harry Potter Moment of the Week # 14

Place you wish we'd explored in the series but didn't?

The Atrium

Actually, it's the place that we've dipped our feet into - three times at least, each time on less than pleasant occasions - but ever so slightly... I'm talking about the Ministry of Magic. I just find it fascinating and I'd love to spend more time there. It's such a complex place; it has so many levels and layers, visible and hidden; secret rooms and rooms full of information and fantastic knowledge to explore. I'd love J.K. Rowling to write at least one book about Harry, Ron and Hermione's adventures at the Ministry of Magic once they start working there. I'm pretty sure that it would provide soil just as fertile as Hogwarts for mystery, intrigue, plots and adventures. In fact, I want to read such story so much, I sometimes think of actually taking it into my own hands and writing a canon-based fanfic that would take place at the Ministry of Magic and tell the trio's first adventure there as its employees. I wouldn't mind co-authoring the story with someone too, so if anyone feels up to it, drop me a line!

My Pitch Wars Bio

I've decided to take part in Pitch Wars this year. Here's my mentee-wannabe bio:

Hi! My name is Farida Mestek. I live in Ukraine, Odessa. My native language is Russian but I prefer to write in English. I also teach English. I love reading, writing, drawing and watching and re-watching my favourite TV-shows. I also love animals, especially the talking ones. I have a collie dog, Phoebe, who thinks that she is a human being; I think that she might very well be the spiritual reincarnation of my grandma. 

I'm somewhat old-fashioned when it comes to writing. I love slow beginnings. I love to get shown around and introduced to the main characters before deciding whether I want to follow them on their journey. I mostly write books set in Regency England and in the fantasy world of my own creation. I tend to brood for a long time on my stories before I start writing them. For me writing a book is like looking into a crystal ball. I must take my time to penetrate the swirling mist in order to see... 

I love when characters come and tell me their stories — some of them take to haunting the back of my mind if I prove hesitant or reluctant to work on them — but more often than not I find myself following them around, hoping to get a glimpse into their private thoughts and eavesdropping on their conversations. I'm also not above riffling through their private papers — anything to get the story! 

I'm passionate about books, movies and TV-shows and when it comes to my favourite ones I can read and watch them over and over again. I never get tired of them. I'm a bit of a nerd. I have an absolute lifelong obsession with Harry Potter and I'm afraid that I'm overly enthusiastic about it for my age — but there's nothing I can do about it. My favourite authors are J.K. Rowling and Jane Austen. I'm a huge Star Trek and Doctor Who fan too. I love magic, fantasy and science fiction. But I also love history and different historical periods and settings. I love the fashions and the manners of the bygone days.

I've been working on the YA Fantasy novel that I've submitted for Pitch Wars for several years now, but it has a much longer history, because my acquaintance with its world and characters began more than ten years ago. In fact, my family and friends know the characters so well they talk about them as though they are quite real and you can often hear their names mentioned in my house. I'll go with Dumbledore's famous words here: "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" Why, indeed? 

I've been rewriting, revising and polishing it a for number of times and I'm afraid that I can go on forever. In fact, I feel that it has come to the point where it needs an intervention from without. I cannot overstate what an amazing and incredible opportunity Pitch Wars is. I solemnly swear that if I get picked by a mentor I'll do my very-very-very best. I want it to be the best book I can possibly write!

You can learn about other participants of this year's Pitch Wars HERE.