"Curdle, I don't think we're in London anymore..."

I've just recently finished the book "Un Lun Dun" By China Mieville, given to me by my one of my loving sisters for my Birthday and I must say: It was strange.
Not altogether poorly written, its characters were solid and the twists in the plot were unexpected and even gripping, but the whole idea of personifying London's infamous smog and making it the antagonist is slightly strange. Of course, it made a GOOD villain, being evil, insane, power hungry, and all that, but still... SMOG?!?!
But I did enjoy the idea that it started out as the classic "Prophecy," written by someone no one can remember, of a CHOSEN ONE, who is some ordinary kid that gets called into another world which they must save from some uncanny evil force. But then it made a complete U-turn, and the main character switches: The original protagonist, of whom there are dozens of "prophecies," making her the CHOSEN ONE, IS defeated, which was NOT written with the rest of the prophecies. Instead, her "side kick" (And not the "Clever side kick" either. We're talking the "Humorous Side-kick") must take over for her in saving Unlondon, the Alternate reality of London.
I love how the writer makes somethings that were "prophesied" come true, and yet with others, the 'side kick' says, "To heck with this!" and saves the world her own way. She is nicked named The Unchosen One, and SHE, in fact, gets the cute Supporting male character whose sights were originally set on the SHWAZZY ("the chosen").
And then there were the occasional play on words and puns, that I will admit, I laughed at, being completely original and out-of-the-blue.
But on the whole, the entire book was bizarre: For starters, there's a man named "Skool" who is actually made up of random sea creatures compiled together and stuffed in an old-fashioned diver's suit, which then animate it as if with one mind. Why? Just because.
And then there are the random characters, like Yorick Covea, who was a small parakeet inside a cage, controlling some headless body on which its cage rested. And that wasn't the strangest.
At first I started it, then had to quickly put it down. Rogue garbage, Trash can Ninjas ("binjas") Pet milk cartons (named "Curdle"), Broken umbrella slaves (called "UNbrellas"), and Double-Decker buses that had adapted to Unlondon's peculiar traffic with either legs for wheels or were strapped to enormous balloons, and I was pretty wierded out. But once the story took hold, it became enjoyable, easily reminding one of Alice In Wonderland and The Phantom Toll Booth. Very Inventive, though still very, very, very, VERY strange, I liked it, even so. Thank you, Zanna!

Haldo

"Hello?" You ask?
No. I said 'Haldo,' and I meant, 'Haldo.'

On this Blog, you will find strange comments, half-baked words, and lots of imagination. This Blog relates to all my fictitious findings and therefore should NOT, by any accounts, be taken literally. Many of the things you'll see on here may appear weird, uncommon, out of sorts, or very bizarre. It is intentional, I promise.
Also, you will find other posts relating to fiction, such as Movie or Book reviews, comments, or quotations from my most favorite (or least) fantastical mental Library.

The Library will often be referred to. It is the collected works, whether imaginative or realistic, of own my fantasy Land. Placed on the shelves are literary masterpieces of Rowling, Dianna Wynne Jones, Tolkien, Bronte, etc; Visual works by Miazaki, Andrew Adamson, and other great directors; and unworthily catalogued beside these great pioneers of Just Left of Reality are my own inventions, strange, grotesque, bewildering to myself and many of my spectators.

I hope you will reach past the confines of a simple day-to-day reality, and barrow a cup of sugar from reality's close neighbor, fantasy land.

Midnight Blue

I was looking out my window one night and then I saw It.
It was HUGE! One of the most amazing spectacular images I've seen.
It stretched as far as the one's eye could reach, nay farther.
Its expanse went from horizon to horizon, and it did not stop there.
It continued past the treasured mountains of my homeland, over the oceans of adventure, leaving Infinity in Its wake.
And It was not alone. There were in Its midst small Things--tiny but eternal in their own minuteness. The Things were farther than the most distant thought. The Things, indeed, were the epitome of Foreign. Yet they were not, perhaps, so far nor so alien; I would not be lying to say they teased my eyes and for a brief moment, I considered extending my hand up to them.
But It had an Object as a guest of honor in Its accumulation of Things. This Object was closer than its fellow Things. It was warming and welcoming, being much nearer and thus more familiar than the other Things in It. And yet, in the Object's own closeness, it was that much more strange, though far from awkward. Merely queer by its whole attitude toward me, the Viewer.
And I thought, for a breath, that the sky in the middle of the night was quite Beautiful.

Are not things so much more beautiful and precious when we remove the familiarity and every-day view of the world?

In the Best of My Being

I have, for some time now, believed in things that most would not. I believe in Fairies, I believe in Elves, I believe in Santa Claus, I even believe in Dragons. And I have proof.
If we didn't have dragon's, why are there stories of them in almost every culture around the world?
If there weren't elves, then who goes into poor peddler's shops and makes shoes for them?
If there wasn't a Santa Claus, we would be over run by the Elves.
And If there weren't fairies, then a child's first laugh would've become something else, but obviously there is nothing else that is made from a child's first laugh, so we can be sure that it turns into fairies.

And now I shall make a contradictory statement:
I do not think that anyone anywhere has seen a fairy who was not on L.S.D.
I do not think that princess are in danger of being captured and/or eaten by dragons.
I do not think that Elves made my cellphone last year at Christmas.
I don't not think that Santa could fit down our gas fireplace.

I suppose I stand correct. I do not believe in fairies, St. Nickolas, or even Elves in peddler's shops. I do, however, believe in believing in them. Sometimes you just gotta believe.