 Fantasy: April 21, 2010 Issue [#3680] |
  Fantasy
This week: Edited by: shaara
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As one of your Fantasy editors, my goal is to challenge you to think outside the KNOWN and to help you inject your tales with fascinating facts while jagging left and right through troublesome frolics and teethe-writhing dilemmas.
Perhaps we can help each other to safely jog through these twisty turns of radical thought, alternate viewpoint, and dynamic detail. Come! Let’s head down the Path of Dimensions, untextured by any earthly array.
In other words,
let’s drop out of reality for awhile.
Shall we?
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The Colors and Habits of
Witches and Warlocks
A witch was always painted in black and not just because of her costume. Sometimes she didn’t find enough time to drop in on her local dentist. Her teeth got a little grimy and – well, kind of black. Her nails were black, too. That’s only because witches couldn’t see real well and their fingers became stuck in keyholes, door frames, and various devices found in deep, dark dungeons. But you couldn’t hold any of that against witches. Black was “in” as any sophisticate could tell you.
Warlocks were like an entirely different species -- not just because they didn’t get born with the right gender (just joking, men.) They rarely wore black, although I think they were partial to brown. That may be because they didn’t have wives, you see, or at least wives who were willing to wash and iron their clothes.
No, I'm kidding again -- really!
After all, that's just plain OLD thinking.
The truth is that warlocks can wear absolutely any color they want, and so can witches NOW.
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Why Dorothy knew that. Those fancy shoes of hers weren’t black, were they? No, they were ruby red and sparkly, which further proves that the witches and warlocks of 2010 are flashy dancers.
Why they're the sparkling cheerleaders of the magical kingdom, and most definitely not beholden to the colors of the night.
In today’s world there are no more rules for costume. Anything goes!
I once received a catalog which carried alien suits as well as witchly/warlocky items.
Fishnet stockings and purple capes seemed to be the latest of attires for female witches.
The warlock suits looked tight and saucy, more like what I’d thought a vampire would wear.
While I pondered which cauldron I thought I should order, the catalog kind of slipped down into the trash can. I think I last saw the garbage man thumbing through its pages.
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But supposing that a witch’s wear is no longer made from spider webs and dew, and the modern day warlock wouldn’t be caught dead grooming himself in rat skins, batwing capes, trousers made from dead lizards or toad tongues for ties --
then perhaps they merely don jeans and tees like the rest of us and, of course, hot green jogging shoes from Nike.
Then what currently sets witches and warlocks apart from us common folk? How can we recognize them in our fictional tales?
If their noses have been untwisted by plastic surgeons, and their warts were removed by dermatologists, how will our readers know which one’s a witch – or even which witch is the witchiest?
Suppose a witchly cackle is now operatic?
Maybe their hump is straight and yoga-supple.
What if even their familiars have been replaced by I-Pods and Black Magic telephones that do everything except yawn, hiccough, and sneeze?
What are we fantasy writers going to do about it when even the very symbol of all good and bad witches -- the broom -- has been transformed into an I-robot Smart Car?
Help!
Hurry and cast a spell.
The future has just transcended on Salem, and all of the Kimble-loving witches and warlocks are now giving us the finger and daring us authors to paint them into totally different hues.
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April Featured
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In the following tale, the air is filled with magic, yet it taps its warning on the shoulder of a mere commoner, a young girl with nothing more on her mind than laundry, quilting, and the plants in her garden.
In a kingdom not so far away lived a girl who was not a princess. Her father held no title or riches, nor fame. Her mother was the daughter of an inn keeper and not some distant lord.
| |  | Laundry (E)
This is basically the beginning of a fairy tale and a girl who is NOT a princess.
#1660942 by EdieLaurence   |
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Did you know that electrical storms cause even a good witch serious power surges? It was something I learned from the following tale.
Now I had to make it from my house to my garden's edge without incurring any injuries; my forgetfulness was at the heart of this drama. No witch in her right mind lets her rose petal jar run low. We all know the danger of electrical storms and yet...
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#1661500 by Not Available. |
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Have you ever heard of a dragon born with no wings? What an interesting idea! Disabilities in the magical world . . .
Once upon an ancient time, in a very distant place,
There lived a little dragon and her name was Tulah Grace.
She dreamed of soaring mountains and protecting many kings
But the problem was young Tulah had been born without her wings.
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I love hearing about Wizard’s School. I think that was the best part of Harry Potter. Here’s another glance into a school of magic, this one equally enjoyable, except that the poor boy must endure the dreaded TEST.
Thomas didn’t even hear her as he entered the dark room. At the far end, a single light shinned over a long table. Seated at the wooden table were the five members of the Wizard’s Council, with Murdoch in the center, just like in Thomas’s dream. Thoughts of his dream gave Thomas a panic attack. He started to hyperventilate.
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Supposing that you mother and father were dead, and all you had left were memories and an ENCHANTED music box of swans and ballerinas.
She gently wound the spring and watched the ballerina pirouette gracefully as the swans swam in a circle around her delicate, tiptoeing feet. Dahlia smiled at the familiarity of the tune as she closed her eyes, turning out the light. In a final gesture, she reached out her arm to her nightstand and touched the music box as it slowed to a grinding stop. Suddenly, the figure began to glow with intense heat and light.
| | | Xanadu (E)
A woman travels to a paradise-like Xanadu. Things aren't always what they seem...
#1661650 by jraf |
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There are folks on-line here who have come up with powerful spells. The following scared the socks off my toes! It’s also a double acrostic, which proves that even in Fantasy we can still use the old formats.
No lead into it, folks. The spell is just too potent. You’ll just have to peek, if you’re brave enough. . .
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My witches are all friendly witches. I’m too much of a coward to cackle with mean ones. Here’s one of my stories. A witch tale with a romantic theme . . .
My broomstick was right where it always was, leaning against the side of the eggplant barrel. I hopped on old “Ben” and grabbed up a vegetable (or fruit if you’re a botanical wizard) and began to nibble as I soared through the wooden frame of the open door.
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#1458748 by Not Available. |
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Comments and Discussions:
scribbler
Comment:
Oh, by the way, can I request you draw an orange dragon sharing breakfast with a mouse? That's something I'd like to see.
NO SERIOUSLY GREAT DRAWINGS. I really feel like that needs to be in capital letters. That publisher should be shot for wanting to dump the illustrations. I know these are just the words of one person but let's face it: I'm young and cool and a consumer and if I think they are awesome then HELL they must be. Your pictures are painfully hip, for real.
I can’t always draw to order. In fact, I almost always can’t. Only when I have lots of time and sit down to doodle do I actually like my illustrations. Well, maybe not like, but not toss, anyway. LOL
Still, such a nice request. You didn’t mind if the dragon and the mouse are both aliens, right? (Your picture is at the top of the column.)
These two are eating local plants. They’re both vegetarians, by the way – herbivores. The dragon is named Parly, and his best friend is Buflo. The planet they’re on has no name because dragons and mice don’t care about such things. However, the plant is called, Tastes Good.
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Jen
Comment:
Great article. One of my daughter's favorite books when they were young was "There's a Monster Eating My House". It was all about a monster who was hungry and all he wanted was cake. LOL!
Then, let's not forget the wonderfu Disney classic film, "the Reluctant Dragon" - the story of a dragon who liked to play a flute, have tea parties and recite poetry.
Those sound like my kind of stories – very non-violent and friendly. Thanks for the recommendations. Someday when I have grandchildren –
Thanks for commenting. It’s most appreciated!
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omni_squirrel/Keev
Comment:
To Shaara,
Aha, a challenge! I cannot resist the call to use my God-given imagination! Thank you for the opportunity to share!
I shall use my Sand Prowlers. Shifty, cunning creatures of the sands, they creep around the arid dunes of Üohn, the desert country, like ravenous coyotes. Scurrying with their four reptillian legs and half foot long claws, searching with their feline head and eyes, they scavenge what they can find. They rip into carcasses with their six inch fangs. Tall spikes punctuate every vertebrae down to their hind, resembling a fish, and their lionlike tail is littered with small barbs. Though not particularly man-eaters, they will grow bold with hunger.
You get five stars with that one! Fabulous descriptions of a critter I’d never come face to face with. Thanks for entering the challenge. You, alone, stand victorious!
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Ash
Comment:
I love the pictures that always accompany these newsletters. :)
Keep up the good work,
Ash
Thank you, thank you. I so very much appreciate your lovely praise. It’s lonely on the other side of the keyboard!!!!
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Bye for this month. See you in May!
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