On Shoes, Gloves, and Romance

    There was once, I hear, a cobbler who had a marvelous ability. His skill with making shoes was so phenomenal that it extended beyond creation into transformation. He could take two shoes which were completely different, and he could alter them so that they would be a completely new pair, quite alike in every way. People came from far and wide simply to see this curiosity take place. Nobody knew how he did it, but they came and tried to figure it out just the same. The rich and the eccentric would bring shoes of different pairs and makes and designers to see them change form, and the less rich and eccentric would bring lone shoes without partners to make them of use again. Though all watched the process with their own eyes, the skill was beyond their understanding, and it completely eluded their senses. 

    Now, it came to pass one day that a young person became dissatisfied with the cobbler's mysterious ability and the way it worked. He brought to the tailor two shoes quite unalike, just like many others before him had. He had, however, a different demand: he wanted the tailor to only alter one and not the other. He wanted one to remain the same, and the other to change to be like it. Now, there was no reason for this. Both shoes were decent, plain shoes without adornment or beauty, and both were still useful to some pair of feet for a time. Neither one was particularly special. The fact of the matter was only this: the man simply disliked the limitation the cobbler put on what seemed to be an infinite ability. If the cobbler's custom of only transforming shoes together was arbitrary, then why not break it? The cobbler clearly had the skill to. 

    When the young man came with this request, however, the cobbler refused him. The young man, of course, wanted to know why. To this, the cobbler's reply was short and simple. We are given what we are given, he told the young man, and we must be content with it. A blessing is a blessing, and distinguishing between them, or favoring one over the other for oneself is ingratitude. Everything we receive, after all, is a gift. 

    Forgive me for starting with a small story, but I feel that this bit of musing probably would not make much sense without the train of thought that came before it, this little tale. For the moment, the tale stands alone, but I'll come back to it. 

    Have you ever noticed the use of romantic curios in stories? Things like handkerchiefs or roses or such things. At first, they're something silly and mundane, but then they take on a greater meaning as the couple's story and development go on. Here's one example, for those who have read Little Women. Do you remember Meg and Mr. Brooke? Their romance begins, perhaps, when Mr. Brooke finds Meg's missing glove. It is a little thing, and Meg dismisses it as gone, so he keeps the thing and cherishes it. Later on, it is a factor of revelation, telling us of Mr. Brooke's true intentions and helping Meg to realize her direction in life. She marries Mr. Brooke, and the gloves are reunited, a complete pair once more. 

    Such a little thing, but it's a lovely little bit of metaphor, isn't it? Of course, we've all heard that cliche old chestnut about couples completing each other and what not. Very often, that stuff is nonsense, or at least heavily diluted therewith, talking about soulmates and fated matches and such drivel. Of course, couples are not fated to be with one another anymore than anyone is fated to do anything, and one good man is equal to the next when it comes to choosing a spouse, if things are done properly. 

    But let me indulge in another example before I continue. I'm sure even those who have not read Little Women know the story of Cinderella. Cinderella loses one glass slipper, and the Prince finds it and returns it to her, restoring unity just like with Meg's gloves.

    In human romantic love, the two shoes or the two gloves are exactly what each spouse should be. One is like to the other in the same way - their fragility. Is it a coincidence that Cinderella's shoes should be made of glass, or that Meg's glove should be lost? The shoes and gloves are like to each other and are one set. 

    That's all well and good, and more competent literary scholars than myself have probably already noted the allegory. Something much more important, however is present in the image. Shoes and gloves are pairs, they are designed for one another, and they make a complete set of something, but there is another aspect as well. Shoes and gloves alike are designed for a purpose, a purpose even beyond completing each other. Shoes are meant to protect the feet and gloves to warm the hands. If shoes or gloves existed independently of any wearer, they would be completely meaningless. 

    The truth of the matter is, we are gloves or shoes or what have you. We are meant for each other in a smaller, more temporal sense (not meaning temporary, but, rather, within time), but we have a greater purpose that we must serve together. If we do it apart, with only one party serving, only half the goal is met. One glove alone does not keep the hands warm, though it's better than none. One spouse on the road towards Heaven alone may get there, but he is missing his traveling companion. We are meant to be together because Heavenly Love is a difficult ideal. For many of us, it is not given that we can know it directly in an intimate way. Instead, we are part of a pair, made to work together and learn of God by serving Him with our human love. If both shoes are found and united, only then are they of full use to the Wearer. 

    This brings me back to my story and to the fallacy of fated lovers. We are not unchanging beings - this is exactly why we cannot be fated for anything other than Heaven. After all, the only unchanging thing in us is the bit of God in us. Only His Holy Image in us does not change. God is the Cobbler in the story. We cannot remain the same and hope to find a match. Both parties must change for love to happen because love is a radical change, only capable of moving and perfecting when it meets with something hardened and imperfect. Love will always be in motion as long as it is finite because it longs so much to reach a state of infinity. The cobbler in my story cannot bear to leave one shoe as it is. He creates, but, more importantly, he transforms. 

    Without being changed, we cannot hope to become perfect. If we cannot hope to become perfect, we cannot hope to achieve Heaven. Fate has nothing to do with romance, really. There is nothing less romantic than being fated to something; it takes all nobility, all beauty, and any influence of God out of the picture of romance. We are malleable, changeable beings, just needing to be hammered into shape to work out as we ought. Ultimately, Our Lord is a Cobbler, making out of even mismatched, useless shoes a beautiful pair, worthy of a King.

Sorry for rambling a bit again... Hope it made some little sense, at least. Either way, Happy St. Valentine's Day, all!

Life Updates

     Well, in all this time, it is a logical assumption that I have been doing things. (Or, at least, if I haven't been doing things, that I've successfully wasted a whole year.) 

Life in General

    To start, as I mentioned in my last post, my family moved this summer. They are now living down South, and I still abide in the lands of the North. I'm in a music school at present for a dual degree in Music Performance and Music Education (my primary instruments are voice and piano). I got another new sibling this past summer, and he's very cute and very fat. Pressured by location, I am back to the Novus Ordo grind and in the choir. I live with my best friend and writing confidante, and we have gotten a lot of nonsense and very little writing done thus far with this arrangement. On the side, I teach music, work a pretty effortless desk job, and help direct a high school musical theater group. Those are really the biggest things that are going on at the moment. 

Writing

    As far as writing goes, I was somewhat productive up until the school year started. The Second Brother is now finished and under critique from beta readers, and the sequel(s) have been started with some headway. I decided to trash My Land, My Heart (the idea was very trite), and my opera's present plot, In Greater Hands, and my Giselle retelling are also prospectively on the chopping block. I wrote some draft ideas for He Travels the Fastest, and I may be writing it in earnest as the next main project. I came up with another archive novel idea (which I will probably expound on in another Meet the Books! at some point). 

    Probably the biggest thing that happened as far as writing goes was a redraft, though. My writer friends on Camp NaNo may remember that I have a coauthored novel project which has never been talked about on this blog (mainly to respect my coauthor's privacy). Now, however, Grim has her own blog, and I plan to introduce the story via Meet the Books! sometime very soon. In a nutshell, the story was dull, medieval fantasy of a rather cliche type and has been - um - remodeled, shall we say? Very, very remodeled... Anyhow, more on that later.

Reading

It would take all night for me to cover the reading of a year, so I will just touch on some honorable mentions:

The Journal of Hildegard of Bingen, interpreted by Barbara Lachman

• You must read it!
• Don't read my translation because it was terrible. The lady was intent on making St. Hildegard out as some proto-feminist or female priest or something. Her footnotes were beyond weird. Do yourself a favor and find a better version. 
• Overall, even with the terrible commentary, it was quite a fascinating look into life in a twelfth-century abbey. St. Hildegard was quite an inspiring woman, too - scientist, singer, composer, doctor, abbess, and mystic, and writer of the first musical, to boot. 

Awake, Not Woke: A Christian Response to the Cult of Progressive Ideology by Noelle Mering

• This fabulous book takes the reader through a careful reconstruction of the processes leading to common political thought today in America. She then proceeds to look at each aspect of the philosophy through a Christian lens, with frequent recourse to the Bible, Catechism, writings of the saints and other great Christian authors. Certainly worth reading.

Beethoven: Anguish and Triumph by Jan Swafford

• Okay, guys, you need to know about Beethoven. For better or worse, intentionally or not, this guy created the musical world we live in now. (The musical nerd side of me wants to promote it more, but I think I'd probably better stop before I get carried away.)
• The one huge problem I had with this book was the anti-Catholicism of it all. The author showed rather painfully that she had no competent understanding of Christianity at all. She was quite biased when mentioning anything about the Church, and very strangely positive about every conflicting philosophy except traditional Catholicism. I find this a very high failing when dealing with a composer like Beethoven, who had a complicated and influential relationship with Catholicism. You'd think she would put a little more time and thought into that aspect of the book at least for Beethoven's sake. 

A Man for All Seasons by Robert Bolt

• To be perfectly honest, I was actually a bit disappointed by the play. It was not as good as the movie (*gasp*), and the author had a very strange way of looking at St. Thomas's philosophy that didn't really show up in the original movie version. 
• All the same, beautiful verse, splendid play. Definitely go watch the Paul Scofield movie. 

Music

    Well, All's Fair got two new songs added to it that it really didn't need and doesn't have a place for. I also wrote a quite useless, cheery little WWI style song and a fantasy for oboe and piano (the fantasy was for a composer's competition which I did not win but had a lot of fun with... the WWI song still has no purpose). I sang on the radio over the summer and got to perform at the reopening of a certain old theater building here, so that was cool. I also got somewhat addicted to TwoSetViolin for a period. 

    As far as music goes, I'm quickly gaining a persona as someone who collects and learns really random instruments. I've sung and played piano for a while now, but I now also play organ, banjo, and ukulele. I dabble in recorder and bagpipes. I plan to take up violin or cello for my strings class this semester and drop the recorder as soon as my wind exams are over. If anyone has need of a dying cat meme track, I would be happy to pick up my recorder for a little bit longer.

Well, that's really about it. How about all of you? What has life held for you this past year? How are the writing projects? Reading? And my musical buddies? (Does anybody else name their instruments...???) 

The Dex Dangerous Dilemma - A Prompt for Writerly Philosophical Discussion

You might notice that this post is labeled among the tags only as "Magnificent Miscellany." That is for no other reason than that, magnificent or not, this post is purely miscellaneous. That is a fact, I'm afraid, that you must grasp now or else turn back in fear of a strange and rather singularly writerly rant. If you have chosen to continue, this means you are for sure a hardy reader and very probably another writer.

If any of you grew up in my generation (which... is probably most of my readers), then you probably at least heard of, if not played devotedly, a stuffed animal/computer game called Webkinz World. It featured your little stuffed friends coming to life online and playing games, working jobs, eating delicious-looking food, etc., and it was the darling of many children as I grew up (myself included, even though my mother actually was the one playing the computer part for the majority of the first years... as I absently tended the beloved stuffed animals). I'd stopped playing it for a while and rediscovered it not too long ago, coming back for a few of my favorite games. One Webkinz game I never liked, though, was Dex Dangerous and the Lunar Lugbotz (mostly because I was terrible at it).

                             

This particular game chronicles the constant warfare between Dex Dangerous, an adventurer and astronaut extraordinaire (a lion) and the Lunar Lugbotz, a group of singularly malignant animalian aliens who are bent on destroying Webkinz World's moon, of which Dex Dangerous is the sole defender. In the game, the simple objective is to use Dex to defend the moon at all costs (when the moon gets enough holes in it from asteroids and alien missiles, it drops back onto the surface of Webkinz World).

Alright. This is all well and good, Belle, but where's the point? When are we getting to the discussion prompt? Okay, okay, I'm getting there. So, in the game, Dex is pretty much invincible - while the asteroids and missiles and such can dent and put holes in the moon, they cannot do the same to Dex. It is presumable that he has some sort-of tiny force-field on his ship that prevents them from damaging him as they would the moon. Here, then, is the dilemma (and the point)...

If Dex has a force-field or protection of some kind on his ship, he could as easily put that small defense on the moon. Now, his ship is a good bit smaller than the moon (about an sixth of its size because, you know, Webkinz is extremely realistic), so if he did use the force-field for the moon, it would cover about a sixth of it, but leave him conquerable, as well as the other five sixths of the moon. Now - this would accomplish immediately the first aim of the game, but only by crippling the means slightly. With the means less viable, the other sixths of the moon have less chance of being saved. But one piece of the moon will surely be saved, no matter what. (This is all disregarding physics, by the bye, as we can't have the moon floating out into space in pieces.)

                          

In philosophical terms, the choices for Dex are to accomplish a part of the ends by sacrificing part of the means' effectiveness, or to try his luck with an extremely effective means but no guarantee of getting to the ends. This brings up an interesting moral dilemma, no? Which is the more efficient - to fulfill part, but not all, of the ends directly and hurt the rest thereby? - or to make the means as effective as possible and stake the ends' chances on that? Characters in books and movies and such make such choices all the time, but it is the writers that have to deal with these conundrums.

So here is my prompt, I suppose. Have any of your characters had to choose between means and a mere part of the ends? Or, if you are philosophically-minded, which seems more fitting to the value of the final goal?

If I'm still not making sense, here's another scenario (equally as nerdy). In the first season of Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu, the four main ninja have two goals, the first of which is necessary to accomplish the second: get at least one of the four Fang Blades, and then destroy at least one before the villains can take it back. Now, if one of the ninja had died to acquire a Fang Blade (the first goal), then there would have been one less ninja to fight off the villains and destroy the blade (the second goal). Would this have been counterproductive? Or noble? Or is there an alternative option?

                                                 

Going back to Dex Dangerous, my sister (much more an expert at the game) assures me that the game would be much harder if Dex was not invincible, even if part of the moon was. If that is the case, then I suppose that would be the logical conclusion. But being easier is not a guarantee of success, nonetheless, and even my sister usually loses the game eventually. Does this mean that it's not easy enough? Or that the other option is more legitimate? Or perhaps it is a paradox altogether?

My own conclusion, I am not sure of. I have my ideas, but I primarily wish by this silly rant to prompt discussion on the dilemma, especially among writers ( who are infamously philosophical), and especially among this particular lovely circle of writers (who are, perhaps, even more infamously philosophical). Answer in a comment, answer in a post, answer in a series of posts, answer in an entire novel, if you like - I would like to hear some good rattling debate about it. Is an effective means more important? Or directly accomplishing any part of the ends? Or is it a chicken and egg scenario?
Whatever your thoughts, however brief or lengthy, I would like to hear them. 

In Greater Hands - Sneak Scene

As I have been rather lax in blogging, I will apologize with a snippet scene, since it's been a while since I've put one up. Here is the first entrance of Vic Vance, master of surprise and oddball extraordinaire, from In Greater Hands.

***

Leta shrugged and headed towards a small building that looked like some kind of a cafe. She entered and looked around inside it. It was decorated in a quaint, sort-of picturesque style, with flowers in carved wooden vases along the half-walls that were by the entrance. There were a few random paintings on the wall behind the counter, but aside from these the walls were bare of anything but their warm, brown paint. Only a few people were inside - an old lady with a small girl in a booth, a server behind the counter, and a dark-haired younger guy sitting at the counter. 

Nothing seemed out of place... Not that anything should, Leta reminded herself. Leksvia was a pretty quiet town, after all. Leta went to the other side of the counter and sat down. 

The server came over. "Would you like a list?," he asked in Russian. 

"Yes, thank you," Leta replied in the same tongue. 

It felt like a flashing memory to speak her home language again in her homeland. It had been so long... Even just one word felt like she was home again when she spoke it. It filled her with the old thoughts of the last time she'd been here. Leta shook herself. No. Can't think of that now, she told herself. 

After the server had left, Leta glanced around the cafe again, more closely observing her company to distract herself from more reminiscing. The old woman in the booth was dressed in a black trench coat and had her silvery hair bunned up stiffly. Her expression was very calm, and she watched the small girl. The girl had to have been around four or five. She wore a large white bow in her red hair, and had a long, flowery skirt that reminded Leta of the flowers in the vases along the cafe's walls. The young man across the counter had dark, coffee-colored hair that looked like it had been blasted back by a gust of wind. He was actually looking in Leta's direction, glancing over at her with bright lime-green eyes. 

Leta looked down embarrassedly. Maybe it was a little rude to watch other people and expect not to be watched in turn. So she turned her attention to the menu that the server had given her. 

When the server came back, Leta gave her order and handed back the menu. She fell back into looking around the cafe. There was that sweep-haired weirdo again - the guy across the counter - still looking over in her direction. Oh well... This probably wasn't the last time Leta would be watched by someone or other with her career starting now. It didn't really bother her. Well, okay, maybe it did bother her a little bit, but not any more than the fact that she still hadn't gotten her order... and time ticked on relentlessly. Normally she wouldn't care, but today, everything had to be on time - no messing up. 

Leta tapped her finger on the counter, a sign of impatience usually. The server came back, and gave Leta a paper with her bill and Lady Lecta's name on it. Leta had been instructed to use Lady Lecta's name, in case of trouble. 

The server brought her a tray with her order. "I apologize for your wait, Miss Lecta." 

Leta paid him, and then the server departed. Leta ate quickly, still thinking of her mission. She still had time, but it was best not to cut it close. 

Suddenly, interrupting her thoughts, there was a buzzing noise, faint, but surely not just imagined. It must be my contactor... If it was, though, it could be Lady Lecta. It could concern the mission or any other thing of great importance. Leta took it out. It was the contactor making the noise alright.

Glancing around briefly, Leta quickly swiped her hand over the device. She expected to see the eyes of one of the secret sergeants pop into view, or the commanding countenance of Lady Lecta, but instead she saw the recently-familiar lime-green eyes and swept-back dark-brown hair of someone else entirely. It was the man who had been watching her from across the counter! 

"Hallo!," the man said from the contactor. 

Leta glanced bewilderedly across the counter. The guy was still there! He had his own contactor out and nodded when she looked his way. She looked back at her own mechanism. Fears began to pop into her mind one by one. Maybe he was dangerous. Maybe he was from an enemy of Lady Lecta. Maybe he was a spy or the one who had made the fake message to bring her here. Maybe he had found out what Leta was doing here and had come to stop her. Leta knew she couldn't panic, though, whatever the case. 

So Leta decided to try and play it cool. "Why did you contact me?," she asked, hoping the question sounded commanding. 

The device's hologram-man shrugged. "I was bored, you looked nice enough, so I decided I might query your name," he said, half-smiling in a friendly manner. 

Leta didn't quite know what to think. Only her first official task mission and something like this had to happen...? She raised an eyebrow in question. "You could have just come over and talked to me if you were that bored." 

"Well, that's the easy solution," He nodded nonchalantly. "Most guys would have done that in such a case." 

"Why didn't you?," Leta questioned dryly. 

He shrugged again. "Me, I like to keep things interesting - surprise people. Didn't I make it so much more interesting this way?" 

She blinked in confusion and quickly checked herself, as she felt a smile coming through. "You did, I suppose," she said, feeling foolish talking to the hologram of a person who was right across the counter. 

He nodded as if to prove his point. "You see?" he smiled. "Way more interesting." 

"How did you contact me?," Leta asked bewilderedly, trying to get a grip on the conversation. 

The man's face brightened. "Simple! I - being as bored as I was - happened to overhear the waiter call you Miss Lecta. Now, I happen to know of someone called Lecta, and if you had been the same Lecta, he would have never called you something so plain as 'Miss'. So, I looked it up on my contactor. Now, there were several different pins under the same name of 'Lecta', so, ruling out the one I knew, I simply picked at a guess," he said carelessly, as though the occurrence was nothing special. 

"Some lucky guess," Leta mumbled, somewhat put out that she was such a terrible spy that she got contacted by random guys in restaurants on whims. Suddenly a thought struck her. "Wait. If you already knew my name, why were you going to ask it?" 

He shrugged yet again. "If I had gone over and talked to you instead, wouldn't I have still asked your name relentless of whether I had heard?" 

"I suppose..." 

"Then there you see my point," he answered honestly. "Wouldn't you have thought it was odd if I contacted you and acted like I already knew your name even though you hadn't even the slightest notion of mine?" 

Leta rolled her eyes in frustration. "I do think it's odd." She looked irately at the device. "Why don't you just come over and talk to me now instead of being weird?" 

"Alright, Miss Lecta - as you like it," said the man's voice, not from the contactor, but from right next to Leta. She started, but quickly masked her jump as putting away her contactor. 

"Alright then..." Leta really had no idea where to go from here. "And since you know my name, you can stop calling me 'Miss Lecta'" 

"Actually..." He paused. "That's all I know of your name - is Miss Lecta. It only puts surnames and sometimes initials on the pin codes. Might I inquire as to what your first name is?" 

Leta hesitated. Should she tell him her real name, or Lady Lecta's? Since he said he knew of someone called Lecta, maybe it was Lady Lecta? And he had said that the Lecta he knew of wouldn't have been called merely 'Miss,' so that sounded like Lady Lecta... If that was so, then telling him Lady Lecta's name, as she had been instructed, might get her found out as a fake! So, then, should she tell him her real name? She probably wouldn't ever see him again, so what harm was there in it? None, I guess. Leta saw no great harm in it, and if she had hoped to be discreet, she had already failed. 

"Leta. It's Leta," she said finally. 

The man looked thoughtful for a moment and raised an eyebrow with an expression as though he was trying to decide whether he liked an odd new food. "Hmm... Leta Lecta?," he murmured, looking at her again. "Just doesn't fit you. Well, Leta does, but it just doesn't sound well together. Hmm. Leta Lecta..." 

"Well, I live with being called it, so I think it's fine," Leta said, trying to act offended. Acting for cover-up wasn't as easy as acting for any school-play or stage-musical as Lady Lecta had made it sound. 

"I'm sorry, I just don't think it fits you very well," he said apologetically, seeming to buy her poor act. 

"Well, your name fits you perfectly, then?" 

"Fits like a boot." 

"Uh, don't you mean a glove?" 

"Nope," he said, absently tapping his rather long fingers on the counter. "I said what I meant: a boot. Never yet seen a glove that fit me well, so I amend the phrase for myself, to something that actually does fit well. So, like I said, it fits me like a boot." 

Weirdo. Leta shook her head. Whatever. "I'll decide that, since you seem to be the judge of mine. What is your name?" 

"Vic Vance, or Vicinius Vance if you prefer." 

"Vicinius?" 

"What? It fits me, doesn't it?"

"Well, yes, I guess it does..." Leta had to admit that it actually rather did.

Vic Vance nodded. "Then there you go." 

Leta suddenly remembered her mission. She had to somehow get out of this conversation without seeming suspicious - she needed to start heading to the Ristoff House. I need to get Ristoff…

"What about Ristoff...?," Vance questioned with a confused smile. 

Leta flushed. Had she said that out loud...? Oh no... Another blunder to add to the count today...

"I know where the Ristoffs live," Vance offered. "If you're looking for any of them, that is." 

Leta hesitated. She needed to find Ristoff, it was true. And time was quickly flying... Leta might not have time to find Ristoff herself at this rate... And if she didn't find Ristoff, it would be a failed mission. And if Leta only let Vance show her the house, then there wasn't any harm done... right? Maybe just this... 

At last, Leta nodded. "Yes - could you show me?" 

Vance smiled brightly. "Just follow me."

***

My Ink-and-Paper Pack...

Recently, my dear friend, Megan Chappie, has, apparently, unwittingly started a trend. That trend being...? The description of one's ink and paper family via personification as an actual family - and, oh, is it fitting. So I decided that I shall join in the fun as well and dwell a bit on my own bookish brood...
                     

The Mama's Girl

Alomina

My Mina, a young lady by now, is the oldest of my children, and is quite reliable. She's sweet, easy to like, and not too demanding.... but also rather melodramatic. Mostly, she's all grownup and fine, but she has always had a dramatic streak in her, and sometimes it gets the best of her. But, emotional or not, she's a dear little drama queen...

The Charming, Rascally... Triplets

The Top-Hat Gang Trilogy

These three boys are a headache and a half some days. They drive their poor mother nuts to no end - they're a bunch of heartbreakers, I'm afraid. Charming and troublesome, they could probably get away with murder (hopefully they haven't already). They rely on me very little these days, it seems, and tend to do their own thing. They're already a hit with the ladies, and don't they know it. Now the trouble will be to reel them back in enough to make sure they've got their three pretty heads in the right place.

The Headstrong One

The Clarion Call

She's a teen, and it's easily the roughest time with her. Her plots are unruly, her characters stick out, but she knows (or thinks she does) that if I would just let her out once in a while, she would be a star wherever she went. Of course, it has to be her idea, though - she can't be controlled or anything. Even more than going out, though, she just wants to be around other stories... perhaps a little too much. I've definitely had to watch her friends, that's for sure. They're giving her some wild notions about plot and development, and I have no idea where to even start...

Miss Wise-Crack

The Pain of a Memory

Sure, she's younger than her sisters, Alomina and The Clarion Call, but she's got some head on her shoulders, and is determined to go out there and do something with it. Changing the world just seems like the next logical step to her. While Mina clings to me and TCC battles me, TPoaM considers herself ready to move out and face the world - she's pretty much grown now, and she knows perhaps a little more than she should. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I can say no...

The Frustrated Funlover

All's Fair!

He's TPoaM's twin, but hates to be considered as grouped with her. Why? She's 'so dramatic,' 'girly,' 'wouldn't know fun if it kicked her in the eye,' etc. I will agree with him that he has more of a sense of humor than her, but, honestly, he's so messy and irresponsible, sometimes I'm not sure if it's a good thing. He's a good boy at heart and tries very hard to do his best, but he just has difficulty shining over all his older siblings. Due to this, maybe, he tends to go around them and do things very differently... even if it means singing to make himself heard. 

The Hotheaded Middling

The Second Brother

Honestly, it's like the world's against him or something - everything sets this kid off. He's got a temper of fire, but a heart of gold, and he's protective of his siblings like nothing else. Unfortunately, he looks up to only them, and won't listen to me. Perhaps his copying them will turn him out well, though... 

The Other Triplets

In Greater Hands, Against the World, Beyond the Stars

Don't even ask me how I deal with two sets of triplets... I'm not sure. Thankfully, these three are much contrasted to their older brothers, and, while a bit noisy, are quite contented to go off and play little games and stories by themselves for long periods of time. The three gals have barely made a peep in ages, and it almost starts to worry me that they're planning something...

Mommy's Noisy Shadow

Le Ragnatele di Venezia

If I've told her once, I've told her a billion times - she's not my only child, I can help her later, she needs to settle down and leave me alone so I can help her siblings out, etc.... but she never listens. She relentlessly follows me around, a determined squeaky wheel, always asking for this or that and giving me (and her siblings) no peace. Really, I must find a way to teach her to do things for herself.

The Adopted Adventurer

The Treasure of the Twin Temples

I couldn't resist him when I saw his grinning little face - I had to adopt him. Technically, he's not originally mine alone, but he fits into the family like a puzzle piece. He's almost always happy, always has a cheesy joke or prank for his siblings and mama, and can amuse himself well enough. What a ham...

The Early Romantic

A Broadway Waltz

Really, she's hardly tall enough to reach the table, and she's already boy-crazy. She's a hopeless romantic at an early age, and constantly  is talking about princesses and Prince Charmings and weddings and all that, matchmaking for all her older siblings, much to their embarrassment and humor. She's so little... what on earth will she be like when she's older...?!

The Colicky Toddler

My Land, My Heart

She's a frequent cryer, I'm afraid, and can only be consoled by her older sister TPoaM, who she's attached to by the hip, practically. She's a mess most of the time, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what is wrong. Most of the time, I have to just sit back and let her sister hold her - otherwise, I must just cry too.

The Mobile One

The Harlequin Sleuth

He just figured out how to walk. Why is he running now...?! And where on earth is he going? I have to chase after him and watch him constantly, or else he will stop at nothing to explore this strange world with true baby curiosity. In fact, I'd probably better go run after him now, before he pulls a million sequels down on top of himself...

The Babies

Pack Up Your Troubles, By the First Light of Dawn, and Burn the Shakespeareans

Giselle (BtFLoD) is actually adopted as well, and originally from a foreign country, but she's a sweet little darling - hardly ever makes a fuss. PUYT, on the other hand, wants nothing but to be at Mommy's side - as long as she's there, though, she's happy. And then there's the one that's on the way... BtS promises to be a troublemaker as well, and may take up all my time once he's around. Let's hope the day takes a while to come... 

Phew! That's all my family for the moment (thank goodness!), and I think, with my thirteen munchkins, I win as far as numbers go. Now let's see how well I can send them off... Do you have an ink-and-paper family of your own? An unruly one? A really unruly one? Then join the party, be merry, and share your own little works' mishaps and quirks!