back when i was ten

Back when i was ten the world seemed like such a weird and wonderful place. I lived in a world of books where rabbits could talk and tales of boarding school and tuck boxes were my things to aspire to. Oh i so wanted to go to boarding school, to be like those merry little characters in my books,causing mayhem and having untold adventures with exciting new friends. I dreamt of smugglers and sleeping on islands just like those five so famous and so real to me when young. For i believed everyone did this and quite happily made plans as sleep eluded me on many a night in bed. I sailed with amazons and fished with huck finn, solved mysteries untold and inevitably always made it home for breakfast as every hero should. Yes the world was a wonderful place back when i was ten.

Flying!! So much i wanted to be Wendy and soar over the tops of houses following a star and the ageless charming Peter, to battle with pirates and crocodiles,nary a care in the world but to live like the heros and heroines i so admired. I danced at the ball and lost my slipper on the stairs, fell in love with a beautiful beast. Cried inconsolably for The little Match Girl and made as merry as any with the infamous Robin hood.

Yes show me a book and i would dream you a dream, back then when i was ten. Yet perhaps i shall always be such an age as with each tale i am transported away finding solace in a world so far removed from my own. So exciting a life i lead within the realms of my own head as stories unfold and imagination takes over, heroine again of a fable not of my creation yet where i feel so very at home. 

As i pick up a book i find things have not much changed from back then when i was ten.

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Men are from Mars

Men baffle me.

It really is that simple. Ironically then that most of my friends are male and although my relationships have tended to be of the few but long term variety i can still safely say that even still i do not understand them at all. Perhaps the writer of the above title was correct in their analysis that women and men are from entirely different planets and personally i could well believe this. 

Whilst i can only limit my observations to those men of both past and present acquaintances i can safely say that for the most part my encounters have led me to believe that men very often do not say what they mean and more importantly do not mean what they say. Certainly my experience has been that mostly men infact tend to say very little at all  leaving those poor literal folk like myself having to guess and write the script for ourselves, often very inaccurately indeed. Imagine the hapless mess of trying to write the script when you do not infact know the story!

Admittedly, for one so perceptive i am very aware that i can be very totally oblivious to those subtle signs that i am told i am meant to pick up on. That is not to say that i NEVER see them but often those times that i do will be those occasions when i most want things to be so.This then is when i tend to ignore them assuming my own desire to see such has made me imagine them entirely. Ironically blind in more than just eyesight i expect. The bigger irony is i was always led to believe that men were the more practical creatures of the two and certainly the more literal and less cryptic. Strangely this has not been my experience at all and i find the case is more that i am the more literal and blunt, leaving them in the reversed role of more cryptic and less obvious.

Perhaps this is where such extensive reading is not such a positive thing since, for the most part in any book, the male role is often portrayed as dominant, demonstrative and often even a little forceful. Never so much so as to be unappealing but rather just that soupcon as to make him appear dashing and manly. Never then is the female counterpart left in any doubt as to his thoughts and desires since he is most willing and often eager to enlighten her. Somewhat different in these modern times then when men seem so much less articulate, instead being rather more of the reticent variety and even of the downright dishonest. 

For my own part perhaps i am guilty of taking away the mystery of any given situation but i find i never would have made a particularly good Miss Marple, i just do not see the clues you see. I can well believe that there is also a flip side to this and the world over there are men abound saying exactly the same about women, they just do not understand them. Perhaps ultimately the trick is to communicate more and not to leave to chance being understood by the other person. I learned long ago that sometimes you just have to come out and say what you wish to and risk an undesired response rather than say nothing at all and forever be wondering.

What if. 

Yes men most definitely are from Mars and perhaps it is time i began to learn a little Martian.

back when i was ten

Back when i was ten the world seemed like such a weird and wonderful place. I lived in a world of books where rabbits could talk and tales of boarding school and tuck boxes were my things to aspire to. Oh i so wanted to go to boarding school, to be like those merry little characters in my books,causing mayhem and having untold adventures with exciting new friends. I dreamt of smugglers and sleeping on islands just like those five so famous and so real to me when young. For i believed everyone did this and quite happily made plans as sleep eluded me on many a night in bed. I sailed with amazons and fished with huck finn, solved mysteries untold and inevitably always made it home for breakfast as every hero should. Yes the world was a wonderful place back when i was ten.

Image

Flying!! So much i wanted to be Wendy and soar over the tops of houses following a star and the ageless charming Peter, to battle with pirates and crocodiles,nary a care in the world but to live like the heros and heroines i so admired. I danced at the ball and lost my slipper on the stairs, fell in love with a beautiful beast. Cried inconsolably for The little Match Girl and made as merry as any with the infamous Robin hood.

Yes show me a book and i would dream you a dream, back then when i was ten. Yet perhaps i shall always be such an age as with each tale i am transported away finding solace in a world so far removed from my own. So exciting a life i lead within the realms of my own head as stories unfold and imagination takes over, heroine again of a fable not of my creation yet where i feel so very at home. 

As i pick up a book i find things have not much changed from back then when i was ten.

quick promote!!

Image

Not my traditional blog but quick promote for two of my twitter author friends..the very talented Lorna Suzuki whose book A warriors Tale ( book one Imago Chronicles) im currently reading and also Graeme Ing who has a new book out this summer entitled Ocean of dust. If youre a fantasy novel reader as i am you’ll love Lorna Suzuki and her books and keep an eye out for graeme ing, i for one will be buying that one too!

sense and sensibility

I’ve always prided myself on being reasonably intelligent and pretty perceptive in the scheme of things but  so often things just seem to end up with a giant sized spanner in the works. I wonder if perhaps i’m as perceptive as i like to think i am or whether im just some kind of cockeyed eternal optimist residing in a fantasy land borne of too many hours with my head firmly in some novel. I love the escapism of books, even when everything goes so wrong it always seems to have an unerring way of becoming right at the end and if i could get life to be this way i would quite happily white water raft my way down the rapids of trials and tribulations sent my way, knowing that a different ending was in sight when i sailed my way to the bottom. As usual things have crawled their way out of the pages of my book and slithered under the table to be trampled on by a never ending stream of feet as the comings and goings of life carry on their merry way and i never was any good at putting pages back together, i have no idea how  nor even if i want to carry on reading the story. So perhaps a new book is in order and a very big book this time, one i can hide behind and only look out from beyond the pages when i know nobody is trying to see who this girl is and what she’sImage reading. Because its a secret now and in all things perhaps it is wisest to let sense and sensibility prevail 

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