more disorganized than Radagast (with Queen’s Thief aesthetics!)

(Because, y’know, Radagast actually isn’t in The Hobbit, and also I’m pretty sure he was more organized than whatever the heck the movies made him out to be.

And this post actually does have a modicum of organization.)

I just finished Return of the Thief, which means that I’ve officially finished my first reread of the Queen’s Thief books. I’m already itching to grab the first one and start over, but I think I need to reread the Middle-earth books first (planning to read The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and LOTR in chronological order, as well as perhaps some of Unfinished Tales and/or the Histories).

Anyway. I really do love the Queen’s Thief books, and I will happily fangirl/scream/squeal about them with you, but I can also talk (semi-)coherently about why I like them. Here are a few reasons:

• Each of the six books has a different narrator (or two), and each of them is unreliable in a slightly different way. By seeing the world through so many different characters’ eyes, we get a fuller, richer view of the history and culture, and a better understanding of each of them (and the other characters). Additionally, the unique unreliability of each POV makes reading an exciting game of guessing which things are being left out this time (even if the narrator doesn’t mean to leave them out).
• There’s always a “twist” to the book. Sometimes it’s obvious (esp. in the first book). But more often, it’s not. People argue about which moment is the real twist in book six.
• There are characters with disabilities, and they are portrayed with dignity and accuracy. (They are also some of my favorites.)
• The relationships are angsty and hard and real because they are made up of broken, real people struggling to figure their lives out together.
• The only other book I’ve read that has such a good, interesting portrayal of the gods and how fate/gods affect humans is Till We Have Faces. I don’t make that kind of comparison lightly, but I think they are comparable (in this respect and others).
• Rereading them is such a wonderful experience. You see so much more. Nothing, of course, can match the first heartpounding time that Eddis says, “Oh, it’s you, Eugenides” — but the second time you’re expecting it and you’re seeing clues for the entirety of the book and it’s even better.

Anyway AGHHHHH I love the Queen’s Thief books and you all should read them. Seriously.

Collages in this post made by me with images from Pinterest. No copyright infringement intended.

I recently have been listening to not only folk songs, but also my playlist of songs I liked in 2019. It’s kind of fun to see what I was like 3ish years ago. In some ways I was a very different person; in some respects I have not changed at all. My music tastes are more varied and widespread, but I still love Broadway, and I still love Andrew Peterson.

I unfortunately have a great dislike of writing academic essays. I’m not good at them, either. I’m decent, but I’m not good. I think I know what I have to do to get better, but it’s going to be hard. Ugh. Why do I hate essay writing so much? I like writing other things. I love writing other things. But distinctly not essays.

I watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding with my family this weekend; I’d never seen it before. It was really funny, and the main character reminded me of myself in several ways, which was neat.

I also reread the entire Anthems of Zion trilogy (by Katie Schuermann) this week. It was nice to get lost in some fun fiction, plus there are actually some amazing themes and characters in the books. They also reminded me how much I love hymns.

In addition to hymns, I really love poetry. I attend a poetry reading club at my college; after realizing that it had been around for a while, I looked at their two different blogs and found at least ten articles over the past decade referencing it. It used to be called Poetry Friday at was at Donnybrook (an off-campus house); it’s now Poetry Saturday and was at Bjornheim for a while until this year, in which Waffle House hosts. I love it.

Inspired by PoeSat, I made a document with a list of all my favorite poems. I won’t share them all today (though I think I shall in the future), but here are my current top five:

1. “Mythopoeia” by J.R.R. Tolkien
2. “Generation to Generation” by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
3. “A Psalm of Life” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
4. “Grateful” by Shige Clark
5. “Echoes of Eternity” by Rebekah Elle

I also recently wrote the first chapter of a (new, yes; yes, I know I have too many unfinished projects; no, I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon) WIP that is tentatively titled “The Society for the Preservation of Chronological and Kairological Accuracy,” or “kairos” for short. (You can look at its Pinterest board here.) Here’s a small snippet:

“Well,” sputtered Lucretia. She appeared not to be habituated to people disagreeing with her, or at the very least not comfortable with such disagreement. “Well. Well.” Unable to find anything more meaningful to say, she crammed the last of Ania’s muffin into her mouth. The trio sat there in meditative silence for the forty-seven seconds it took for Lucretia to finish chewing and swallowing. Ania scribbled away in a leather-bound book. The gentleman politely looked at his teacup, avoiding the fascinating amount of crumbs dropping from Lucretia’s lips to her lap.

Eben himself had no such inhibitions and was watching each crumb quite intently. Thus, he was in the perfect position to witness Lucretia’s final swallow, her plump fingers as they brushed the crumbs to join the split tea on the floor, her surprisingly swift heeled boots as they uncrossed at the ankles and began to stand, her dramatically unfolding arms and unfurling skirt as they prepared to knock over the teapot, all of Ania’s books, and  several shelf displays for good measure. 

“Oh dear,” Eben found himself saying, and before he was quite sure what he meant to do, he had crossed the room in two swift strides and was holding the teapot in one hand and supporting the stack of books in his other. A shocked Ania had caught a falling display of dried flowers in her skirt.

I also wrote a poem that I like recently; you might get to read it sometime in the next few weeks. And hopefully there will be a post about Lent soon, for Grim’s “Remember, O Thou Man.”

Well… I’m going to stop blaming God for creating me this way and just get over it and write some good essays.

Be blessed in your endeavors.