We craft and tell stories because we’ve stood on the uncertain edge between the waking world and our imagination, between enchantment and fear. And we remember other stories that help us build our own stories, scraps of lumber and fragments of narrative we gather together to make stories for ourselves.
Our imaginations are easily caught up in new interpretations of these familiar stories, and it’s likely we’ll never stop reusing those tropes while we still retain them in our cultural memories. Join us in an interview with author Arielle K. Harris.
We sat down with Kate Wolford for a long-distance discussion about—well, about the weather, and how it shapes the stories we tell.
http://www.sacu.org/pic25.html
It’s another grim and heartbreaking day in the world. We’ve had too many of these lately, and Friday 13 seems particularly bitter and bitterly pointless. Other, better, more eloquent writers can tell you what’s happening, and give some shape to the numb weariness that overtakes us. Today, we want to celebrate life as usual, the ordinary everyday, boring days when nothing remarkable happens and good days when something hilarious happens.
In honour of the season, here for your reading enjoyment is an eerie Scots ballad by George MacDonald.
As I was working on research for something else entirely, I stumbled upon a collection of Monguor folktales, collected from Qinghai in northwest China. This was a cultural tradition I wasn’t familiar with, and with…Continue Reading
August 20, 2010 --- Dinosaur skeletons in the desert --- Image by © MARK GARLICK/Science Photo Library/Corbis
Every day at 5.30 p.m., just outside the university campus where I live, someone blows up a mountain.
