Company of Misfits

Oftentimes, inspiration can be found in the most unlikely of places. For many stories or adventures in The Wicket of Silvus, the inspiration is the incredible, sometimes quirky, and very odd moments that make up my life. In fact, on a regular basis I will message a friend and tell her what happened that day and the response I receive is, "How?! How do these things always happen to you?" I'm not sure, to be honest, but it makes for great writing material.

However, sometimes inspiration comes from unusual sources. For example, a few years ago I was in a tough place in my life. I was sad and tried to find moments of humour in watching comedic YouTubers. One of my favourites, at the time, was Brandon Farris. I can't recommend all of his videos, as some are just a bit too out there for my taste, but there are many that are quite enjoyable. I'd have to say that the video below is my all-time favourite. I could just imagine this ridiculous energy put into someone well-trained in swordsmanship, and perhaps a tad bit more brave, and I could immediately see how reaction times would be faster than anticipated. 

Megildur (meaning: sword) was created during one of those moments where I needed a bit more of this ridiculous joy in my life and my book, and he is bursting with excited energy and ready to accompany our travellers on their adventure. Hopefully they never come across a spider along the way. :)

The Verdict

Have you ever been judged? Have you ever sat in judgement over others? Maybe it was for something you did or didn't do. Maybe it was for something someone else did or didn't do. Maybe it was for something that you said, or they said, or no one said. Maybe judgement happened because of a funny look, or just looking funny. 

As long as I can remember, I wanted to be an author. I wanted to write books full of imagination and fantasy and joy and playfulness. But I have a terrible, squelching fear of being judged. It's not just about me being judged, but my ideas. If someone came up to me and said, "Lisa, you're such an idiot and you look like a complete loser," I could handle that because it's about me externally. It's about a person's perception of the individual I may or may not portray to others. But if someone comes up to me and says, "your book/art/craft/project/etc sucks," that hurts. Because that is no longer a facade I play to make people happy. When I do a project of any kind, be it book or painting or play, that is my deepest, innermost creative side burrowing its way out from the hole it dug itself into and peeking around to see if it's safe. 

I wrote a lot of things as a kid and received a lot of criticism. Either from my peers, my teachers, my classmates, or whomever. If ever I thought I was artistic, someone would tell me I wasn't and tear me down. I still remember making a ginger bread house with my aunt when I was really little and I wanted to be creative in my own childish way and she told me it was going to be too messy and disgusting and I just needed to keep my hands off. So I did. With a lot of things. Because for me, creativity equaled failure. 

But then I began to volunteer in writing children's material for my church. I started when I was a teen, and people actually liked what I wrote. I wrote puppet plays for kids, but the adults were all watching too and both the children and adults laughed, but not with judgement. I spread my talents to things like children's curriculum and summer camp story time plays. I wrote skits for ladies retreats for people I had never met, and they liked it. But all the while I felt I was surrounded by a council of people, letting me do my thing but just biding their time to place judgement on me; to tell me I'm not good enough. As I read through The Wicket of Silvus again, I can see it in the pages of this first book: my fear... my hesitation to let my words flow... my need to hold back.

Although it may not seem like it to anyone else, putting a book out there into the world was a massive act of bravery for me. I have slowly grown out of the dark abyss that my childhood bullies pushed me into, and fought with my self-esteem along the way, only to find out that I don't walk this journey alone. I have not advertised my book anywhere but on Facebook, and my friends, you wonderful friends, have supported me, have told your friends, have passed along the word to others. You are the council of elders, sitting around making judgement, and you have judged it to be worthy, and have compelled me to keep going. 

Thank you.

Beriothien

Many years ago I had a roommate who was born in a different country and had taken a "Canadian name" when moving to Canada because no one was ever able to pronounce her African name correctly. (For her privacy I will refrain from mentioning names or her country of origin.) I asked what her given name was and she tried to teach me to say it. No matter how many times I repeated her name, and no matter how exact I thought I was being with the tones and inflections, she continued to laugh at me and say, "No, that's not it!" Apparently I could not get it right. 

Society is growing when it comes to names. It used to be that immigrants would move to Canada and take what was called a "Christian name," or basically an English name. But times are, gratefully, changing where people of all cultures are beginning to feel free to use their given names. And yet, often, as English only speakers, we may struggle to pronounce names of those from other cultures and ethnic backgrounds. Let's face it, with the way things are going in naming babies obscure names in our own culture, many children's names of any ethnic background are hard to pronounce. 

What bothers me is that if someone is trying, and I mean really trying not just being ridiculous, and they still can't get your name 100% perfect, is that really a reason to laugh at them? Take my name for example: I have one of the easiest names on the planet to pronounce. But yet I've been called Leeza, Leeser, Liz, Lissa, Leezer, Liza, Lysa, and Katey. But I don't say anything or complain, although that did make it awkward after being called Katey by a client for 6 months to have to admit to them that it wasn't my name. Unless they're doing it to harass me for some reason, I understand different people have different accents and they're all going to say my name differently and that's okay. 

At the back of the book, The Wicket of Silvus, there is a name list with all of the human and elvish names with a pronunciation chart. If you choose to take a look and find out that Beriothien is actually pronounced Behr-ee-oh-thee-ehn, then more power to you. But if you are enjoying the book and choose to call him Berry-oh-theen, go for it! It's your imagination and your experience. If ever I am able to turn this into an audiobook, I will have a discussion on pronunciation with the narrator. But for now, I really don't care what you call the characters. If you want to discuss them with me, I will likely figure out who you're talking about, no matter what weird name you give them.