Scottie's Books
  • Books
    • An Eagle's Heart >
      • An excerpt from 'An Eagle's Heart'
    • The Fairly Stillwart Chronicles >
      • An excerpt from 'The Fairly Stillwart Chronicles'
  • Blog
  • Celtic Lore
  • Author Friends

Blog stuff

An Excerpt From the First Fairly Stillwart Chronicle: Bullied in School

7/30/2014

0 Comments

 
Being a lone pixie among fairies, poor Stillwart wasn't always accepted by the fairy children.  She was bullied because she was a different, but she was a strong little thing, she fought hard to make a place for herself in the fairy realm of the Great Southland. This is part of her story, though to find out how she faired you'd have to read the chronicles themselves:
Picture
Chapter 2: Fairly School

“No!”

“Come now, Still. You have to go to fairy school.”

“No, I’m not a fairy.” She stomped her foot and pursed her lips, head sternly turned down, with eyes to her feet. Her arms were crossed in that strange way that only Still could do. No fairy ever crossed their arms, except when holding a grain.

I didn’t say anything to Fiona.  It wasn’t my place. Appleblossom was actually bouncing with excitement. I couldn’t understand Still at all. She had always been this way. Fairies didn’t get angry, nor were they ever that willful. She was stubborn and actually rude. It had been like this almost from the start.  She was nothing like Appleblossom.  Apple was all smiles and was never angry at anything.

“Come on, Still; it’ll be fun! I want to go to school,” Appleblossom coaxed.

“Fairy school. I’m not a fairy.”

“No, Still, you’re not. But I’ll have a talk to Mr. Scribe to see if it can be a fairy-pixie school,” said Fiona.

Still’s eyes came away from the floor. “Really?” she asked.

“Really,” Fiona replied.

Her arms came away to her sides, the pursed lips were gone. “Really.” She smiled.

“Really.” Fiona smiled back.

Still leaned forward and hugged Fiona’s legs. It was enough. I could see the love, but, oh my sister, how patient she was. I could never have done it. Still would have been too much for me.

***

Mr. Scribe later told me how everything had gone so wrong for Still’s first school day. It had been the fairy children who had given Still the name Wart: Stillwart.

It had something to do with Still’s ability to fly. You see, the other children couldn’t, not at that age. Their wings weren’t ready. When she had appeared in class, they had all gotten a bit excited and a bit too close. Too many fairies, all crowding in on her at once, trying to see the pixie child they had all heard about. Still didn’t like it, and with only one direction to go – up – then up was where she went. It had caused a major disruption.

“She can fly!”

“Her wings are ready.”

”But they’re green… brown, arrh.”

“Arrhh, arrhh.”

“She’s so ugly.”

“Sit down children. Sit down please,” Mr. Scribe had cried.

“She looks like a giant wart.”

“Her name must be Wart.”

“She’s a wart. Hey, Wart.”

“My name’s Still,” the little pixie objected.

“Stillwart! Stillwart! Stillwart!” the children cried. Mr. Scribe had never seen anything like it. He had tried to stop them, but he hadn’t been able to. He had never seen fairy children behave so badly in all his life.

Still had simply fled, tears streaming down her face. She had flown as far from the fairy school as she could: through the trees, through the brush, faster and faster. Many years later, she had told us what happened to her. Still had been gone for days. The whole fairy realm had been searching for her.  She had masked herself from us so we couldn’t feel her with magic; she didn’t want to be found.


Picture
0 Comments

We are two turns of a leaf.

7/27/2014

2 Comments

 
Picture
“We are two turns of a leaf: one dark but strong; one light but happy. Both turns of the leaf are needed” Nightwood the Pixie Knight, the Second Fairly Stillwart Chronicle.

I wrote the above quotation to describe the relation between pixies and fairies in the Fairly Stillwart Chronicles. But the truth is that it’s actually based on people. I was recently reminded of this when I posted a picture of a local cemetery, which for a couple of weeks every year blooms pretty in pink. I found it a beautiful and uplifting image and thought others might find the same. However, I had underestimated people’s inherent repulsion of cemeteries and anything relating to death. The posting had the worst interaction of any posting I’d had for a long time. I think there was only one other dark soul who saw the beauty I did.

Picture
“Fairy’s are glittery, golden and happy.” I’ve met many people like this. Perhaps we all have. They always have a smile, and it’s often contagious, it can lift your day just being with them. I’m not one of those golden souls myself. I have a darker tinge. It is the rare person who is glittery and golden, but also strong.

In my other book, An Eagles Heart I have a character who can’t handle his wife’s cancer. So he leaves. In the sequel he’ll feature again, it’s good to have a character evolve a bit, because we all do. Having had cancer myself I found that many of my friends stayed away for a while when I was being treated. They didn’t want to be depressed. Some came back when I’d recovered, some never did, as though I was somehow tainted with memories they found too depressing to handle. I can’t judge anyone for this, everyone is different. I was glad when a few of my glittery friends returned. But I was also glad of my darker and stronger friends, who hung around when things weren’t so nice. Thank heavens too for a wife who had been a nurse, and has that mix of glittery and golden but with strength when needed.

Some of us darker souls must be puzzles to our fellows, and yet with all the movies and books about vampires and zombies you’d think not. But those aren’t real - they’re fiction. Apparently a picture of a cemetery is a bit more than most can handle. It’s the difference between the imagined and the real. And it’s no coincidence that vampire and zombie movies appeal to the young. When we’re younger some of those imaginings blur, but as you grow older, and your friends start to pass away, I think some would rather not know. Their own mortality comes into question.  Zombie’s and vampires are put aside, as the reality of what death really means takes hold. We change.

But for some of us a cemetery doesn’t hold any ill feeling. I find such places are often very green, quiet and relaxing.  I’ve always felt that my life gave me more than expected, so when I found I had cancer (and before we found out it was a very treatable one) I didn’t feel any fear, or any sense of denial. I think there are meant to be five stages of emotion for those facing death, I went immediately to ‘acceptance’. I think many people found this strange, but it’s just the way I am. There’s a very good book by Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross about the stages of grief and the preparation that we go through, for those who are interested.

The lighter souls bring us all a bit of happiness, and bring a smile to our faces. I think we darker souls have our place in the world too. In earlier times when extended families lived together, and life was a bit shorter than it is now, everyone was exposed to death, very few could escape having experienced first hand the death of someone they loved. We darker souls were probably more plentiful then. Nowadays, we live longer, and we’re further afield from each other. It’s a lot easier to be glittery and golden and avoid all that depressing death stuff. Perhaps us darker souls are there so that when the time does come, not just for death but for other tragedy too, there are a few of us to help and support when needed.

The world is made of all sorts of people, some glittery and golden, some dark but strong. I think that both turns of the leaf are needed. Oh, and I still like vampire books, sometimes zombie ones too.

2 Comments

I'm not too grumpy, and a preview of the 4th Stillwart Chronicle "Tory Blithe and the St John's Pixie"

7/19/2014

2 Comments

 
So I've been accused of being a bit grumpy. But am I too grumpy to be a writer? Bollocks, of course I'm not. No emotion is too coarse, too trivial, or too demeaning for a writer to use, though we work it to a style appropriate to the audience. Of course I'm grumpy. I'm the king of grumpiness. I'm a lot of other things too. But my grumpiness is a tool I can use. So here it is, an example of Grumpy at work, an excerpt from the start of the Fourth Fairly Stillwart Chronicle (Tory Blithe and the St John's Pixie). No Character is as grumpy as the character Muckrake the Elder. So read it, enjoy it, and go buy the other ones. There's a link if you click the picture below.

They'll probably edit out all the good grumpiness, the final version will probably have lost grump. So here it is unedited and uncut!!!
Picture

Prologue: I Don’t Do Fairly Stuff

I am Muckrake the Elder, pixie scribe for the Newfoundland Pixie. I am dour and down to earth, so we’ll have none of that fairy glittery nonsense here.

I’ve read the first three Fairly Stillwart Chronicles and they were a disgrace … well, maybe not, I guess they were written by queens (fairy queens) but they’re not how I would have written them! There was far too much flippity gibbering going on in them. I blame that human scribe they used. Disrespectful! Impertinent! Far too familiar in his ways! I think they fired him. Or maybe they blew him up or something. I’m sure it was a fiery end of some sort. Well, maybe it was the contract that got burned, but I like to think it was him. Terrible temper that young fairy Queen had, what was her name? Appleblossom? Fearsome little thing for a fairy.

Anywho, I was approached by no less than four fairy queen’s to write the Fourth Fairly Stillwart Chronicle. Turned them all down, didn’t I, even that Appleblossom one. Gee, did she get mad. But I didn’t have time for all that sparkly priming that they wanted added in. Silly stuff. Who cares whether they had their hair up or their hair down, and who cares what type of gown they were wearing? Frivolous nonsense. No time for fairies in general. Writing this up for Her Majesty Queen Pridella, I am. Proper queen she is. Brutal, when need be. Chops heads off. My type of queen. Threatened to chop my head off if I didn’t write this. You’ve gotta admire a gal like that, also gotta do what she says.

So why did they all want me to write this thing? Well no one else could, I’m the only one who knows the full story. I was there for all of it - pretty much. Well, I may have had a wee bit of help filling in here and there from the young Muckrake, but nothing major mind. Might also have had to send some letters to some of the fairies so I knew what was in their heads at the time – I doubt any pixie could possibly know what was in a fairy head. Might have had to do the same with those human girls too, wouldn’t even want to try to think what was in a human head. Actually …I always used to think there wasn’t much of anything there in those human heads. But that was a long time ago, before I got to know humans. So, in the end it was mostly me! Well … pretty much. Powerful story telling position, mind. You’re only going to hear this here. So pay attention!

Now, I’ve a secret to tell you. You’re not to tell anyone else! I mean it now, this is a deep dark secret. Don’t tell anyone at all about this, but… we used to be known as … the St John’s Pixie.

Oh, I know, it’s so disgraceful, I know. Oh, the shame of it all. Yes, it’s true, we were those pixies, the St John’s ones that everyone says all those horrible things about, and what’s worse? Most of what they say was true! Terrible times they was, terrible, terrible, terrible. But Stillwart helped change that, she gave us a new start. So that’s what this story is about. Pay attention now! I don’t intend to repeat myself here. This is the Fourth Fairly Stillwart Chronicle. Oh, I already said that … but it won’t happen again! Pixie’s are very strict.

Now then , it all began in St John’s, St John’s in the Canada place…

2 Comments

Bullying

7/13/2014

1 Comment

 
I want people to know that I’m here now, that I got past all that, that life got better. I kept going and it got better. I almost stopped, many, many times, but I didn’t, I found reasons to keep going. It probably wasn’t until I was 20, but it got better. Everyone should know that. I built a life that I enjoyed. I excelled at being a nerd, and I built companies, I write books. I have a wife and kids. Life got really good. But it took a long time.

I must have been 38. I’m 51 now. But when I was 38 I took my son to visit the new high school he was going to attend, it was in Australia, high school starts in year 7 there. I had a panic attack. I thought I was over it all, but it turns out it was just there in the background. Not for my son, his life was better.

I went to Junior High and Senior High in Canada. Senior high was not okay, but I got through it. It was better than it had been. I was happy to be ignored, to have next to no interaction, I was happy to be left alone.  But that’s crap, I wasn’t happy at all. I just wanted to be left alone. That was enough, it was better than Junior High - that was absolute crap, that was shit.

I just want kids to know that it can get better. When you get older you get to make choices. You can choose to leave, I did, and it was better. Sometimes you’re just in a shit place, it really is, and it’s better somewhere else. Australia was better for me. Hang out until then. Find your place to escape to until then, even if it’s just in your mind; stay strong within yourself. Books helped me, God helped me too (as cheesy as that sounds). I learned to escape. That’s what got me through.

Life can get better. It can take a while, but the day can come when you can make it better. When you get old enough you get that choice. I’m still here. I was really alone for many years, but I made it past that, I found people to love and who love me. My parents had been there, they hadn’t understood, they didn’t know, they couldn’t do much back then. I had to keep going, it was me. Eventually it was me who had to make a new life. It took three years beyond Senior High School, but I did it. I know you can do it to.

I had cancer when I was 46, funny, I wasn’t afraid in the least. I’d had a good life, I just thought that everything I’d lived through in recent years was bonus. Life was shit before that. I’d made it through though, and life got better. Every day now is just a bonus. Keep going, you’ll be stronger than you ever realise. Stronger than most. Stronger than anyone. Don’t let them win, those others, they don’t give a crap, they don’t even notice, but then again they don’t really count for a hell of a lot. Make a new life for yourself, away from the crap. Make yourself, you’ll be able to, just keep going and you’ll make it.

1 Comment

    Author

    It's me, Scottie

    Archives

    February 2019
    May 2017
    March 2017
    October 2016
    September 2016
    June 2016
    September 2015
    August 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    November 2014
    October 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.