Book Review: When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman

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When God was a RabbitWhen God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

So quirky, touching and a great read

I bought this book a little while ago and have no idea why. Probably, because I think rabbits are cute and if they are called “God” it must be a fascinating story.

And I was certainly not disappointed. “When God was a Rabbit” entangles us into the life if Elly, her brother Joe, her friend and her family.

We meet her rabbit which is called God but also her neighbour Mr Golan whom she liked until he did things he should not have done. Her new Friend Jenny Penny has similar experience but Elly won’t learn about it until much later.

Both are outsiders and rather frowned upon in school but as they have each other it doesn’t matter. Until Elly moves with her parents to Cornwall and Jenny and her mother have to escape a violent ex-boyfriend.

They lose contact as Jenny was not allowed to for safety reasons. But again Elly doesn’t learn about it until much later.

This is only part of the fascinating labyrinth of this story which leads you from the seventies up to 9/11 in which her brother is gets missing but not for the obvious reasons.

We meet many quirky characters like Arthur who home schools Elly after their move and her aunt Nancy a gay actress. Or is she?

This book is a tapestry of life in all its glory and pain. Easily told from Elly’s point of view you just fall into the story and can’t let it go by cause you just need to know what happens on the next page.

A warning though. If you are affected by abuse or by 9/11 this book might cause you flashbacks or other trouble.

This was one of the best reads in a left fe time.

View all my reviews

Not half an H: Half Measure

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A lovely rhyming scheme which gives you an awful lot of possibilities and invites to make a humorous poem is the Half Measure. The Poets Garret describes the  pattern like this:

 

x x x x x a

x x x x x b

x x x x x a

x x x x x b

or

 x x x x x a


x x x x x b


x x x x x c


x x x x x b

They also offer a wonderful poem to explain it so please head over to The Poets Garret to find out 🙂

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Letting go of Zara

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In January I let you know about my intention to make 2017 the year of finishing unfinished projects. One of them is my fantasy story “Zara”, which accompanies my writing efforts since more than 20 years and by the powers that be I haven’t gotten anywhere with it.

Well, I have done at least 3 outlines and started as many efforts to write the story but in the end, I always stopped. A couple of weeks ago I read a blog post or article about letting go of writing ideas that haven’t worked out or are just not good enough to follow through. Unfortunately, I cannot find that article anymore :-(.

However, I have come to the conclusion that to go forward I need to let that fantasy story and the main character that is so close to my heart go.

That article advised several ways of letting ideas go from just binning them to making a short story out of it. Another was to share the idea and let others work with it. I feel that “Zara” is one idea that I need to share with fellow writers.

So here is the latest beginning I have written for “Zara” and I invite you to finish the story in any way you see fit. Please share the story with your readers and have lots and lots of fun with it:

Zara

There was a huge storm in the mountains,” Zara told the Wild Woman. Even though she was the eldest daughter of Aila leader of the travelling peoples and about to become initiated she always asked for advice of the wise woman who could only be found in the deep forests of Tadatschi if she felt it wise to be found.

Wild Woman always looked out for the deep red flame of Zara’s long hair as she knew of her fate and destiny. Zara looked like she towered over Wild Woman as the girl was tall for her age and Wild Woman was short. They said that her muscular form grew smaller with the years of living in the deep woods running with the stag and the wolf. She has become one of them and learned their wisdom which gave her a deeper understanding of human nature and destiny.

Wild Woman gave Zara an encouraging look while they sat in an oak grove half way up on Blue Mountain which rose over the summer camp of the travelling people. Zara went on in her deep melodious voice: “ The rain clashed against my face and arms. I had lost my coat and was grabbing onto the rocks towering beside the thin path I was walking down into a valley. It was pitch dark but every second lighting came down from another side. So I could see where I had to head.” Only Wild Woman,s deep green eyes revealed a faint smile. Her thin face did not give away any of her thoughts or feelings. Zara was staring into the fire lit in the middle of the grove.

Her light blue eyes were wide with the anxiety and excitement the dream had raised in her. She hugged her thin form which was clad in leather pants, a woollen shirt just adorned with a golden pin and green stone. She had laid her colourful woven cape beside her where her left hand rested. The other as elegant as princesses laid in her lap.

“Storm wind nearly blew me down to the right where a deep ravine laid I could not see the bottom of. The rocky path was slippery and in the end, I was just crawling along on the ground. Suddenly the rock at my left stopped and the path ended in something that felt like grass. A loud thunder banged down on me. It took my breath. Then there was this black creature. I could just see its silhouette as the lightning suddenly seems to just come from behind it. It looked like a huge cat.” Wild Woman took a deep breath but said nothing. Zara looked at her briefly but continued: “Its head seemed to point behind it. It turned and walked away.

I was terrified and stayed where I was. But Storm Wind now came from behind me and seemed to push me into the creature’s direction. I tried to stop myself sliding down the grass but could not hold onto anything. I started shivering and the noise was soul destroying. The creature came back. It bent down to me. I could see its emerald green eyes shining and suddenly I knew I had to follow it and it was safe. Storm wind slowed down in that moment and I could get up. I realised the creature was, in fact, a huge black cat which now walked beside me. I took my right hand on its head and it led me to a pine grove in which a cave was hidden. Then I woke!” Zara fell silent but her heart was pounding and her breath went fast.

Wild Woman said nothing. Long years of being the Shaman of the travelling people have taught her who really needed her words and who could find wisdom in silence. Zara was one of the latter.

After a long while where they could only hear Soft Wind singing in the oak leaves around them Zara said:” I am not supposed to find my totem before my initiation. But this cat certainly is my totem. I feel it now!”

Wild Woman got up and walked slowly to the northern realm of the grove. There she hummed a light tune and out of the trees came a huge cat nearly as tall as Wild Woman with emerald green eyes. Zara gasped. She stood up, brought her slender hands together in front of her heart and bend her head deep to honour her totem animal.

The huge cat seemed to smile while she came down the light slope gracefully to lay down in front of the fire which stayed between her and Zara. Wild Woman came in her wake and motioned Zara to sit down as well.

Wild Woman’s furs rubbed on her leathery skin as she went to the west of the grove where a little well was trickling away joyfully. She took out a small bowl made out of clay and decorated with oak fruit. She filled the bowl with the water of the well and turned back to Zara who just sat there looking into the cat’s eyes. Wild Woman sat the bowl down in front of Zara and then vanished into the woods.

The sun sent her first rays over the eastern oaks when the cat got up again and walked over to Zara. She rubbed her head on Zaras left ear and sniffed her hands. Her purr sounded like she approved of what she smelled. She rubbed along Zaras back who did not dare to move. Zara closed her eyes and saw the cave the cat had led her in her dream. There was a fire in the middle, a little pond in the back. A wind chime made out of human bones dangled above her and a bed made out of moss, oak leaves and grass invited her to lay down in front of the fire.

Zara could hear the cats purr and it advised her to lay down which she did. Then she could hear a voice: “ Your time has come but tell no one! Your people are not ready yet for the challenges to come!” “I am not either,” Zara thought.

When she woke the sun had gone down behind her. The fire was out but the bowl of water was still waiting for her. She sat up bowed to give grace to Mother Earth and drank thirstily. She looked around the grove but neither the cat nor Wild Woman was there. So she stood up and left….

Now go, create and have lots of fun!!!!!!

Pasi Ilmari Jaaskelainen’s “The Rabbit Back Literature Society” at #supporttranslatedbooks

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Last week I introduced you to Mahtem Shifferaw’s poetry book “Fuchsia” which I was reading in connection with my Goodreads reading group “#supporttranslatedbooks”. And this week I want to let you know about our August read “The Rabbit Back Literature Society” by Pasi Ilmari Jaaskelainen.

August author at “#supporttranslatedbooks”: Pasi Ilmari Jaaskelainen

When I chose the books for #supporttranslatedbooks” I had never heard of Pasi Ilmari Jaaskelainen. I usually try to find a couple of links about the book we are reading itself and the author too to give the members a little more insight if they feel like it.

However, I found it difficult to find information about him and only posted these two links:

Pasi Ilmaren Jaaskelainen’s Homepage
Pasi Ilmaren Jaaskelainen on “Words Without Borders

Even his Wikipedia page is only in Finnish, Swedish and French.

photo credit: Goodreads

According to most of the pages I was reading he is Finnlands best-kept literature secret, a lover of Vampires and Jeanne Moreau and he has three sons. Other than that he is a writer of sci-fi and fantasy stories and has won several Finnish writing awards.

Now that is certainly an author worth discovering.

The Book we are reading in August at “#supporttranslatedbooks”: The Rabbit Back Literature Society

I have bookmarked several links to lists with translated fiction and try to find authors that are from all over the world as a well as authors who are not so well-known. And another point is to choose books of diverse genres. At the beginning of the year, we read “Sophie’s World” a children’s book about philosophy, last month a poetry book and this month we are into mystery, fantasy and magical realism if we want to believe the Goodreads genres. And next month we are off to Japan.

And as to stay with Goodreads, here is the book’s blurb:

A highly contagious book virus, a literary society and a Snow Queen-like disappearing author ‘She came to realise that under one reality there’s always another. And another one under that.’ Only very special people are chosen by children’s author Laura White to join ‘The Society’, an elite group of writers in the small town of Rabbit Back. Now a tenth member has been selected: Ella, literature teacher and possessor of beautifully curving lips. But soon Ella discovers that the Society is not what it seems. What is its mysterious ritual, ‘The Game’? What explains the strange disappearance that occurs at Laura’s winter party, in a whirlwind of snow? Why are the words inside books starting to rearrange themselves? Was there once another tenth member, before her? Slowly, disturbing secrets that had been buried come to light… In this chilling, darkly funny novel, the uncanny brushes up against the everyday in the most beguiling and unexpected of ways. 

Now how can you resist a blurb like that? Well, I certainly cannot as I love mystery books that have a good touch of magical realism in it. Plus I am a fan of Scandinavian authors and can’t wait to start “The Rabbit Back Literature Society”. In fact, I have managed to read one page already ;-).

Discovering “Wordery” with #supporttranslatedbooks

When I was looking to find an affordable copy of “Fuchsia” last month I discovered “Wordery” an online book shop that is ” one of the fastest growing online bookshops and our mission is to provide you with an alternative haven to buy the books you love for the lowest prices. We offer over 10 million books and provide free delivery to over 100 countries.” in their own words.

And this month I purchased “The Rabbit Back Literature Society” from them. It is a great alternative to Amazon even though I believe they are somehow working together too. But that is something to explore in another post :-).

If you are interested in “The Rabbit Back Literature Society” on Wordery have a look here.

Next month’s book on #supporttranslatedbooks

The September read on “#supporttranslatedbooks is Banana Yoshimoto’s “Goodbye Tsugumi”. 

More about it and why I chose it in a post next month.

Find out more about “The Rabbit Back Literature Society”

“The Rabbit Back Literature Society”
in “Washington Independent Review of Books

“The Rabbit Back Literature Society” on Tor.com

Resources:

Pasi Ilmaren Jaaskelainen on “Goodreads

Pasi Ilmaren Jaaskelainen on Pushkin Press

“The Rabbit Back Literature Society” on Goodreads

Sniff them out/Schnueffel herum

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August 2017

“Women who run with the wolves” is a book I am reading on and off and the lesson described in this post is one I am still learning.

April 2011

In her book “Women who run with wolves!” Clarissa Pinkola-Estes describes in one chapter how instinct injured women have to learn not to trust the wrong people. She describes the story of Bluebeard who keeps a room secret from his wife. Her sisters though want to know and so they find out.

It is important for us to see clearly what is going on around us. That does not only mean to keep our wits together and hear between the lines and watch the actions of others. Not only listen to their words. It is also important to listen to our gut feeling or instinct. It so often tells us early that something is not quite right and if we acted upon it, we would save ourselves a lot of suffering and pain.

“Asking the proper question is the central action of transformation- in fairy tales, in analysis, and in individuation. The key question causes germination of consciousness. The properly shaped question always emanates from an essential curiosity about what stands behind. Questions are the keys that cause the secret doors of the psyche to swing open.” 
 Clarissa Pinkola Estés (Women Who Run with the Wolves)

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August 2017
“Die Wolfsfrau” ist ein Buch, dass ich immer wieder lese und die Lektion, die ich in diesem Post beschreibe, lerne ich immernoch!
April 2011
In ihrem Buch “Die Wolfsfrau” beschreibt Clarissa Pinkola-Estes in einem Kapitel wie Frauen, deren Instinkt verletzt ist, lernen muessen nicht den falschen Menschen zu vertrauen. Sie beschreibt das im Kapitel, in dem es um Blaubart geht, der einen Raum vor Ihr geheim haelt. Ihre Schwestern wollen wissen, was darin ist und so finden sie es heraus.
Es ist wichtig, zu sehen, was um uns herum vorgeht. Das bedeutet nicht nur bei vollem Verstand zu sein, zwischen den Zeilen zu hoeren und die Handlungen beobachten anstatt nur auf die Worte zu hoeren. Es ist auch wichtig unserem Bauchgefuehl oder Instinkt zu folgen. Es sagt uns so oft sehr frueh, dass etwas falsch ist und wenn wir darauf hoeren wuerden wuerden wir uns eine Menge Leiden und Schmerz ersparen!
“Die richtige Frage zu stellen, ist die wichtigste Handlung, um zu transformieren. – das ist so in Maerchen, in der Analyse und der Individuation. Die Schluessel-Frage ermoeglicht Keimung von Bewusstsein. Die richtig geformte Frage kommt normalerweise von einer gesunden Neugier darueber, was dahinter steht. Fragen ermoeglichen es die geheimen Tueren der Seele zu oeffnen.” 
 Clarissa Pinkola Estés (Women Who Run with the Wolves)


I wanted to be a manager/Ich wollte Abteilungsleiterin sein

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August 2017

I still struggle with this experience

March 2011

I wanted to be a manager! I thought I would be good at it which in fact I was. Unfortunately for me I have been born with a gentle heart. I still believe in the good in people! And I care. I care about people. No matter what. 


But being a manager you are doing business. You have to think about the business, not the people. That is the nature of the whole thing. I thought to combine the best of both would work out fine. It did not! Now it seems to me like two cultures clashed and they clashed inside of me. My gentle heart broke and I had to learn a lesson Walden taught years ago … trade curses everything it handles; and though you trade in messages from heaven, the whole curse of trade attaches to the business.

Henry David Thoreau, Walden p.324
I can see the pieces of my gentle heart laying around on the ground. What on earth shall I do with them?
 
Coffee BEE'n mug
 
August 2017
Ich kaempfe immernoch mit dieser Erfahrung
Maerz 2011
Ich wollte Abteilungsleiterin sein! Ich dachte ich waere gut darin, was ich auch war. Ungluecklicherweise wurde ich mit einem sanften Herzen geboren. Ich glaube immer noch an das Gute im Menschen. Ich fuehle mit. Ich fuehle mit den Menschen. Egal wie! 
 
Aber als Abteilungsleiterin handelst Du. Du musst an das Geschaeft und nicht an die Menschen denken. Das ist die Natur der ganzen Sache. Ich dachte, wenn ich das beste aus beiden Welten vereine, wuerde es gut gehen. Tat es aber nicht! Nun scheint es mir als ob zwei Kulturen aufeinanderschlugen und sie schlugen sich in mir. Mein sanftes Herz zerbrach und ich musste eine Lektion lernen, die Walden vor Jahren gelehrt hat: Geschaeft verflucht alles, womit es zu tun hat. Und sogar wenn Du mit himmlischen Botschaften handelst wird sich der ganze Fluch an dieses Geschaeft anhaengen.   Henry David Thoreau, Walden S. 324
 
Ich kann die Teile meines sanften Herzen ueberall auf dem Boden herumliegen sehen. Was um Himmels Willen kann ich damit tun?

Black Hole/Schwarzes Loch

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Black Hole

This black hole
in front of me
is like a well

I jump and swim!

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 Schwarzes Loch

Dieses schwarze Loch
vor mir
ist wie eine Quelle:
Ich springe und schwimme!

Good Morning/Afternoon Writers ~ Randy Ingermanson on "Your Inciting Incident"

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91802-good2bmorning2bwriters2521Good morning my fellow writers, today something about craft and what Randy Ingermanson has to say about it:

This article is reprinted by permission of the author.

 

Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, “the Snowflake Guy,” publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 16,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visitwww.AdvancedFictionWriting.com.

Craft: Your Inciting Incident

A novel is not just some random collection of events.

A novel is a story. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and they’re connected. There’s a direction to the story. The beginning is about the lead character’s pursuit of a certain ending. The middle is about all the complications that come from pursuing that ending. The ending is about whether the lead character gets the ending he wanted, or some other ending.

The ending that the lead character wants is called the “story goal.”

But it’s a rare novel in which the lead character knows on page one what the story goal is. In many novels, the lead character doesn’t even know on page one that there is a story goal. Often, the lead character begins the story with nothing more than a vague discontent with The Way Things Are.

Something has to happen for the lead character to decide on a specific story goal. That’s often what the beginning of the story is all about. By the end of the beginning, the lead character should know what that story goal is and be committed to getting it, at any cost.

But what is it, exactly, that moves the lead character off his butt from his initial vague discontent? What leads him to begin trying to define a story goal?

The Inciting Incident

Something has to happen to change things. Very often, that “something” is external to the character. It happens to the character and focuses that vague discontent into a stronger emotion—rage or terror or desire or whatever.

That “something” is called the “inciting incident. Every story needs an inciting incident. It can come early or it can come extremely early, but it needs to push your lead character off balance and into the story.

Example 1: The Hunger Games

In The Hunger Games, the inciting incident comes quite early. Our heroine, Katniss Everdeen, goes to the Reaping ceremony, just hoping her name doesn’t get drawn. That will enable her to get on with her life.

The good news is that her name isn’t drawn.

The bad news is that her little sister’s name is.

That’s the inciting incident. Up till now, Katniss has been unhappy with the way the Capitol is running things. She’s thought of escaping District 12. But she hasn’t taken any action or even decided what action she might take.

But now her sister’s name is called. Her sister is a young kid, and going to the Hunger Games is a death sentence. Katniss doesn’t even think about it. She reacts instantly, volunteering to take her sister’s place.

Her assumption is that this means she’s going to die. It hasn’t occurred to her that she might win the Hunger Games. That thought comes to her later.

The novel is the story of Katniss’s attempt to win the Hunger Games.

But that story would never have even been possible without the Inciting Incident—the Reaping in which Katniss is forced to volunteer.

Example 2: Pride & Prejudice

Pride & Prejudice starts fairly quickly. In the first scene, we learn that a certain eligible bachelor, Mr. Bingley, has moved into the neighborhood and he’ll be making his appearance at the coming country ball.

Our heroine, Lizzie Bennet, is not particularly interested. She finds most men to be dull and narcissistic. She suspects she’s going to die an old maid, because she wants to marry for love, and that’s just not going to happen.

At the ball, Mr. Bingley brings his best friend, Mr. Darcy. Bingley has a fine time dancing with Lizzie’s older sister, but Darcy makes a bad first impression on everybody as a man who is stiff and formal and arrogant.

In reality, Darcy feels socially inept and is afraid to be friendly because he doesn’t know how. But he’s powerfully attracted to Lizzie Bennet, which leads him to make an off-hand comment to his friend Bingley denying his attraction.

Unfortunately, Lizzie hears the comment and is deeply offended. She’d like nothing more than to put him in his place.

Darcy leaves the dance wrestling with the terrible fact that he’s now infatuated with a woman who is far below him socially.

The dance is the inciting incident for this story. Early in the story, Darcy will fight his feelings and Lizzie will subtly mock him. At a certain point, Darcy will realize that it’s no use fighting. He’s going to have to pursue Lizzie, because he has to. But by this time, she’s committed to evading his pursuit.

The novel is the story of Darcy’s pursuit of Lizzie, and Lizzie’s attempts to evade.

None of this would have happened without the Inciting Incident—the dance where Darcy and Lizzie meet.

Example 3: The Godfather

The Godfather is a massive novel about a thoroughly repugnant character, Don Corleone, the godfather of a Mafia family.

The story begins with the wedding of the godfather’s only daughter. A lot happens at the wedding that will be relevant later. But the story really hasn’t begun yet. Fact is, the godfather is sitting rather pretty right now. He has multiple streams of income, he has the honor of his community, and he has any number of judges in his back pocket. The one nagging concern is that none of his sons is quite right to replace him as the godfather, but that’s not a big issue. He’s healthy and apparently has many years ahead of him.

Soon after this, he meets with a young gangster named Sollozzo. Sollozzo works with a rival family, and he wants to begin importing a new drug that has enormous profit potential—heroin. Sollozzo needs the godfather’s help in getting legal protection. His men are going to get arrested occasionally. It will be crucial to be able to bribe the godfather’s pet judges.

The godfather says no. He doesn’t care about the people who will be harmed by heroin. His concern is that drugs are too hot, that his judges will balk, and his empire will be harmed. So he refuses to cooperate.

But the godfather’s impetuous son Sonny expresses interest. Verbally. To Sollozzo.

Sollozzo leaves the meeting and orders a hit on the godfather. It nearly succeeds. Don Corleone is now terribly wounded and his empire is thrown into disarray.

The novel is the story of Don Corleone’s search for a successor—one powerful enough to regain the Corleone family’s standing as the premier Mafia family. And ruthless enough to exact a stunning revenge on Sollozzo and his backers.

None of this would have happened without the Inciting Incident—the initial meeting between the godfather and Sollozzo.

Homework

  1. Do you know the Inciting Incident for your novel?
  2. If so, does it begin as close to the beginning of the story as possible?
  3. If not, can you think of some scene early in your novel that could serve as your Inciting Incident if you tweaked it a bit?
  4. What external forces tip your lead character off his or her balance?
  5. Does your lead character have a choice after the Inciting Incident? If so, what part of his character leads him to make the decision to enter the story you want to tell?

Sometimes you just have to jump…/Manchmal muss man einfach springen….

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August 2017

This tale was first posted in March 2011

Just jump

There was this young girl. Her father had married again and her stepmother did not like her particularly. She had a step-sister as well – that silly cow. She was not able to recognise a dust-pan from a chopping board. She was all fingers and thumbs and as the girl’s step-mother was a greedy bit** she dumped Joanna the housemaid as soon as she had moved in. You probably expect who is doing the chores now. Definitely not her royal highness and the silly cow. She could not wait when her father came back from his long business journeys because when he was in the house they shared at least a bit of the work. But he was madly in love with the woman so the girl did not dare to say anything. She could not bear to see him unhappy.

One day he came to see her and said:” Darling I am so happy you get on well with my new wife and her daughter. That is why I have decided to go on that trip to the far away kingdom to trade for jewels that I have planned since your mother passed away. I want you to take care of the two as you are more accustomed to the chores!” The girl nearly fainted. She could see the steps evil grin shine on their faces. “How long?” was all she could whisper. “About 6 months!” It sounded like a death sentence.

Her father said his farewells and left and the royal highness came to her room. “Now that your father is gone I want you to go as well. You can stay at the old hut close to the well until he comes back and only come back for two hours per day to clean the house and cook. Now go!”

The girl jumped up and towards the cruel woman but she just said: “What?” with that arrogant slant her voice that felt like a punch in the girl’s stomach. She let her breath go like being punched stood for a second and pushed the woman to the side and ran.

When she reached the well she was entirely breathless. She used to sit with her mother spinning telling stories and singing. When ever she was sad or upset she came here to remember her mother’s wise words: “Darling life is like a wheel it goes up and down. You have to face good days and bad both make out a full filled life!”

“But mother!” she cried “Where are my good days gone?”
And as she said that she felt a strange surge towards the well. Step by step she moved closer until she could see into the pitch black tunnel that led to the waters underneath. And the waters murmured a comforting song:” Come down dance with us!” They seem to say. The girl looked back at the house that has been her home and had changed into hell and she jumped…..

I can not tell you what happened to her. She might be dancing with the waves. She might have found Frau Holle or she might lay dead on the ground. That is up to your imagination.

All I know is that sometimes you have to jump to get out of an unbearable situation.

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August 2017
Ich habe diese Geschichte zum ersten Mal im Maerz 2011 veroeffentlicht
Maerz 2011

Spring Einfach!

Da war dieses junge Maedchen. Ihr Vater hatte wieder geheiratet und ihre Stiefmutter mochte sie nicht besonders. Sie hatte auch eine Stiefschwester diese doofe Kuh. Die konnte eine Kehrschaufel nicht von einem Brettchen unterscheiden. Die hatte zwei linke Haende und da ihre Stiefmutter eine geizige Hure war hatte sie, sobald sie eingezogen war ,Johanna das Hausmaedchen rausgeworfen. Du weisst vermutlich wer die Hausarbeit nun machen musste. Ganz sicher nicht ihre Hoheit und die doofe Kuh! Sie konnte es gar nicht erwarten, wenn Ihr Vater von seinen langen Geschaeftsreisen wiederkam, denn war er zu Hause teilten die beiden anderen wenigstens ein wenig die Aufgaben. Aber er war ganz verrueckt nach der Frau und so traute sich das Maedchen nicht, etwas zu sagen. Sie konnte es nicht aushalten, ihn traurig zu sehen.
Eines Tages kam er um sie zu sehen und sagte: ” Mein Schatz ich bin so gluecklich, dass Du dich gut mit meiner neuen Frau und ihrer Tochter verstehst. Deshalb habe ich mich entschlossen, die Reise in das ferne Koenigreich anzutreten, um Juwelen zu erhandeln, die ich schon geplant hatte seit deine Mutter verstorben ist. Ich moechte gerne, dass Du auf die beiden anderen aufpasst, da Du mehr Erfahrung mit den Aufgaben hast. Das Maedchen fiel fast in Ohnmacht. Sie konnte schon das ueble grinsen auf den Gesichtern der anderen beiden sehen. “Wie lange?” war alles, das sie fluestern konnte. “Ungefaehr 6 Monate!” Das hoerte sich wie ein Todesurteil an.
Ihr Vater verabschiedete sich von allen und ging und ihre Hoheit kam in ihr Zimmer. “Nun da Dein Vater gegangen ist moechte ich auch Dich aus dem Hause haben. Du kannst in der alten Huette an der Quelle bleiben bis Dein Vater wiederkommt und Du erscheinst hier jeden Tag zwei Stunden lang um den Haushalt zu erledigen und zu kochen. Geh jetzt!”
Das Maedchen sprang auf und auf die grausame Frau zu aber die sagte nur:” Ist was?” mit diesem arroganten Ton in der Stimme, der sich wie ein Schlag in den Magen anfuehlte. Das Maedchen atmetet aus wie nach einem solchen Schlag, schubste die Frau zur Seite und rannte.
Als sie die Quelle erreichte war sie total atemlos. Frueher sass sie immer mit ihrer Mutter da, um zu spinnen, Geschichten zu erzaehlen und zu singen. Wann immer sie traurig oder aus der Fassung war kam sie hier her, um sich and die weisen Worte ihrer Mutter zu erinnern: “Mein Schatz das Leben ist wie ein Rad. Es geht hoch und runter. Du musst die guten und die schlechten Tage durchstehen, weil beide ein ausgefuelltes Leben ausmachen!”
“Aber Mutter” schrie sie jetzt “Wo sind meine guten Tage geblieben?”
Und als sie das schrie fuehlte sie diesen unheimlichen Sog von der Quelle ausgehen. Schritt fuer Schritt kam sie naeher bis sie in den pechschwarzen Tunnel hinabsehen konnte, der zu den Wassern fuehrten.
Und die Wasser murmelten ein troestendes Lied: “Komm herunter tanz mit uns!” schienen sie zu sagen. Und das Maedchen schaute zurueck zum Haus, das ihr zu Hause gewesen war und sich zur Hoelle entwickelt hatte und sie sprang…..
Ich kann Dir nicht sagen, was mit ihr passiert ist. Vielleicht tanzt sie mit den Wellen. Vielleicht hat sie Frau Holle gefunden oder sie liegt einfach tot am Grunde. Das ueberlasse ich ganz Deiner Vorstellung.
Alles, was ich weiss ist, dass Du manchmal springen musst, um aus einer unertraeglichen Situation heraus zu kommen.

Wordless Wednesday ~ At the Beach…

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… in West Runton, Norfolk, UK

This post takes part in Wordless Wednesday.