Chapter 20 - Going Home

Chapter 20

This chapter marks the end of the book. The end. That's it. No more. 

Should I write a second book? I did.

Should you read it? You should.

Should I read it to you? Well... maybe. Maybe not. I don't currently have time, but maybe one day.

I hope you enjoyed the Wicket of Silvus. Please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads to let me know what you think. Every review helps. :)

The Fire Queen

Several people have asked who these books are written about or if they are about anyone at all, and I have to say no. Sure, there are some personality traits that I've taken from one person or another that I know, but this book is actually more about the impacts of intergenerational trauma. 

Working as a counsellor is interesting because there are people from all walks of life that come to chat with me. Some people come in and say, "I had a great childhood, everything was fine, but I just can't figure out what's wrong with me." And sometimes, as we discuss their childhood, we realize that they may not have had severe trauma, but their parents did, and because of that the parents were disengaged and unable to build strong attachments with their kids. This means the kids struggle from unhealthy attachment styles that they bring with them into adulthood and creates a plethora of challenges for an adult with poor attachment. 

Intergenerational trauma is so difficult for individuals because they don't know why they aren't loved or where their trust issues come from. Also, there is a much greater likelihood that the individual will experience trauma themselves because of family patterns. 

*spoiler alert*

In this chapter, I wanted to show that the self-esteem issues Brianna struggles with are her own trauma to deal with, but the root cause is her mom's trauma, brought on by her parents' trauma of losing a child and her own trauma of losing a sister. It's not anyone's fault when these things happen, but understanding your own trauma and dealing with it can really help to stop the cycle to the next generation. 

Practically A Masterpiece Theatre

We interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcasting for this special announcement.

Earlier in the video series, someone asked me, "Don't you think people are going to think it's a bit self-centred to call your chapters 'Practically a Masterpiece Theatre'?"

Honestly, I thought it was amusing and thought everyone would know it's just a play on Masterpiece Theatre, but basically saying I'm not up to that standard. 

Here's the problem... (as per usual)... my brain got it wrong.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

Weellllll... You see, my brain sometimes pieces together bits of random information and creates a memory. For example, it remembers the song that went along with Masterpiece theatre, that showed lots of goofy objects and random old pictures and things like that... This song...

But this is not completely what I remember, now that I've done some research to figure out what I was talking about. Sure, parts of it are vaguely familiar, like the song and the books and the old objects, but then I remember Sam the Eagle from the Muppets coming on and saying, "Welcome to Masterpiece Theatre." Except that's not right, is it... then I found this.

It's not Masterpiece Theatre I remembered. Nope, it's the first 39 seconds of this video clip that I remember, which says, "Welcome to Monsterpiece Theatre" and Cookie Monster is eating cookies in the background. 

So if you're thinking to yourself, "Lisa, you're so vain for making your recordings sound like they are practically a masterpiece," just remember that I based this decision off of a cookie-loving Muppet who belches in the intro. This is not high-class stuff, folks. Ha ha!

The Tree of Omission

Have you ever been at the end of a long journey only to find out that there was more? Maybe you quit a job and then were told they needed you for a couple extra weeks. Or maybe you were volunteering for something but it was never quite over.

This happened to me when I was completing my MA in Marriage & Family Counselling. I had completed all of the courses and finished all of my final interview and assignments. All I needed were counselling hours for my practicum and I would be done. I submitted my hours and let them know I would have them done by the end of the summer, but alas, that was not good enough. Because I had missed a deadline that I was unaware of by 2 weeks, I had to wait a full year before I could graduate. 

The same thing happened in my BA in Religious Education. I have a volunteer credit I had to earn so I spent an entire summer volunteering at my church to get in the hours I needed, but when I returned to school, I was told it wasn't good enough because apparently I needed approval first and then I could do the hours. I had to find an in-depth opportunity during my last year of school to make up the hours, even though they would have approved it if I filled out the paperwork beforehand. 

I feel like this is the feeling Brock and Brianna have in this chapter. Everything is coming to a close and the one they look up to says, "first we have a journey." WHAT?! They just went through a journey! And now they have another one? 

But that's how it is sometime in our walk with God, isn't it? We think, "we're doing great! I've got this! God and I are tight!" but then something happens and we go, "Oh, I guess this is just another step along the journey" and sometimes we groan inwardly. That's okay! Journeys can be long or short, easy or difficult, lonely or companionable, but every journey has a purpose. The crazy thing is, that purpose may not be about you. It might be about who you're journeying with, or who witnesses your journey, or who you can talk to about it later. Life isn't about you, it's about God, and you have the privilege to choose to walk with him on the journey if you want. 

So don't give up! Just take it one step at a time, and every now and again you might get a shortcut.

Brock's Battle

Throughout this series of "insights on the chapters," I have focused mainly on my connection to the chapter or why I wrote certain things. For this chapter, we need to have a chat about the artist.

Tabitha Hanson is, in my opinion, one of the most talented and incredible artists that I have ever known... and I've known quite a few artists. She not only has great skill, but a heart of love, creativity, and joy. Back when I knew her in college, I was super intimidated by her unique style and pleasant personality. She just was so artistic and creative and altogether amazing, I never thought I could measure up. With every ounce of my being I wished we could be friends. And somehow, we connected. Not in a deep, forever friendship kind of way at the time, but just enough that I felt privileged to be able to chat with her sometimes and feel like she actually liked me enough to spend time together.

A few years ago, my sweet Jersey dog passed away. Jersey was a therapy dog who would work with me in volunteering to help those struggling with anxiety or just needing some encouragement. Through Instagram, Tabitha reached out to me again and sent me a drawing of Jersey. It meant the world to me. I don't know why she did it or what made her think of me in that moment since we hadn't talked in years, but it changed something for me. 

I started writing my book shortly after and asked a few people about thoughts on the cover art, and then I stumbled across that picture of Jersey. I remembered how talented Tabitha is, and how kind-hearted, and I thought I would reach out, not expecting much. To be honest, I don't play well with others when it comes to a project like this. I am, unfortunately, easily hurt and discouraged with negative comments. So reaching out to friends to see if they would be willing to join me in a project of this magnitude was way outside my comfort zone. Yet, knowing her personality from many years ago, I felt like we could collaborate well together. 

And we did! The cool thing was that Tabitha went above and beyond for my project and through it all we really clicked on ideas. She read the book, gave me helpful insights, drew pictures for every chapter, and even sent extras for fun! In fact, she often had multiple pictures per chapter for me to choose from, but for some reason I didn't always know where they should go because I liked them all. So I started placing things where they seemed to fit, and where there wasn't an obvious picture I placed something I thought would go fairly well with the chapter. The only chapter where I couldn't figure out what picture she was drawing to match the chapter was this one, Chapter 17. After sorting through the rest of the pictures, there were still 3-4 extras to choose from for this chapter. One of them she had named "Reverse Tulip." I have to be honest with you, I did a word search through the book document to see where I had mentioned a reverse tulip, because how cool does that sound, but I never once mentioned it. Yet, of all the pictures, this one was perhaps one of my absolute favourites. Even though it really doesn't connect with this chapter at all, I couldn't help myself and threw it in. I can't remember, did I change some wording in the chapter so it would match? I don't think so...but perhaps. 

Anyway, if it weren't for Tabitha's kindness, gentle spirit, and creativeness, I don't know if I would have ever finished this project. She is like a real-life fairy princess to me, surrounded by magic, and I am so glad we have reconnected as friends and pen pals again. 

Thanks, Tabitha. I look forward to our next project together!

The High Emperor

In reading a lot of adventure books, I find there is usually one thing in common: the spider scene is the crazy, evil scene. 

There will be none of that in my books. Again, referencing the last blog posting, I will do my best to never write anything that could potentially cause nightmares for anyone. Instead, I wanted to incorporate my favourite animal into this book: the hippo.

Perhaps there is some side of me that identifies with the hippo:

1. I like to lay around, and particularly like to just sit in large pools of water. 

2. I am clearly not a skinny, tall giraffe, if you catch my drift.

3. I have a big mouth that gets me in trouble sometimes. 

4. I can be comical and "adorable" so that people will connect with me, like a cartoon hippo.

5. Underneath my pleasant exterior lies a dangerous predator that wants to attack! (I have tamed it to only come out in sarcasm.)

This brings me back to a time in my youth, many, many years ago, when I stumbled across a program on National Geographic called "The Dark Side of Hippos." I have always been a fan of hippos. They're fat and hilarious and just blobs that bring joy...in a zoo. But in nature, hippos are the deadliest large land mammal on the planet. In fact, it is estimated that hippo attacks kill 500 people each year in Africa. Hippos can kill a large crocodile with a single bite. On the show, they interviewed a man who had survived a hippo attack. He had fallen out of his boat and was eaten, head first, by a hippo. The hippo chomped him so hard it bit off his legs! But then it spit him out and his friends dragged him to shore and he somehow survived...sans legs. 

But that's not the point of this story. After watching "The Dark Side of Hippos" at the very late hours of the night on a Saturday, I went to church the next morning (to ask for forgiveness for watching the dark side of anything...) There I saw a friend and, from across the room, we yelled to each other, "Guess what I saw last night?!" Turns out we had both stumbled across this program late at night and decided to stay up to watch. It was amazing! Here I was thinking no one would ever watch such a ridiculous program, and she, too, had been watching! I love when things like that happen.

Years later I tried to contact National Geographic to get a copy of "The Dark Side of Hippos," but they never got back to me. Sad. I'd have liked to see it again. 

Chapter 19

The second to last chapter of the Wicket of Silvus has arrived!

Well, I mean it has been completed. It didn't go anywhere so it didn't have to arrive from anywhere. 

Anyway, have a listen.

Chapter 19

Brianna's Captor

Real talk...likely not for kids.

As most of you know, author's are just "normal" people who happen to write stories. We write stories as an escape, or as a creative outlet, or to work through some underlying personal trauma, or whatever reason. But bits and pieces of our lives and stories end up on the thoroughly edited pages of our work.

Chapter 15 was the hardest chapter for me to write. You might think to yourself, "What was the big deal? She got captured and..." NO SPOILERS! If you haven't read it, I won't go on. But that's not the point anyway. 

Was I kidnapped as a child and have underlying childhood trauma? No. Not at all. But I did have undiagnosed ADHD until I was 40. One interesting thing about mental health is that it doesn't like to be lonely, it often befriends other mental health issues alongside it. I was also diagnosed with OCD when I was in my early 30's. I don't think it was an accurate diagnoses, but the symptoms were present likely due to the ADHD.

Right now you're asking yourself, what is the point of this? Well, the point is this:

As a child I would have a negative thought (often an OCD or ADHD trait), and then I would hyperfixate on it and obsessively think about it for days, weeks, years, or my lifetime (hyper fixating is an ADHD trait). For example, one time we were taken to a school assembly and told that there was a "bad person" in the area and he was driving a white van with no windows and then we were sent home in groups to watch out for each other. From then on, I "knew" I would be kidnapped by a man in a white van and taken somewhere bad. I thought about it all the time. I was terrified of white vans. I also remember having "the talk" with my mom and realizing that someone could easily overpower and take advantage of me and from then on, well into adulthood, I "knew" that I would be accosted and assaulted one day. In fact, I didn't even mind when I began to hate myself for being fat and ugly (low self-esteem is another symptom of ADHD) because rapists don't attack fat and ugly girls. That was my way of comforting myself and finally getting over my anxiety about the idea of being attacked in a dark alley, which I never frequented so I'm not sure why it stuck out in my mind. I also thought I would die before I was 20 so I never thought long-term plans were necessary. Imagine my shock when I had to actually figure out what I was supposed to do with my life. I still feel like I will die by the next decade of my life, but somehow I keep beating the odds.

But here's what I'm getting at... I would read stories with "bad" characters as a child and I would blow up their level of "badness" to a whole other beast until I was terrified of them. I had nightmares about characters in books or things that scared me, no matter how illogical. I would wake up crying at night and still see visions of my nightmares in the room. It wasn't even what they said or how they looked, sometimes, in movies, it was how their voice sounded or how things repeated. I still can't handle watching Ursula from the Little Mermaid and would have to leave the room as a kid during that part because my nightmares would get so bad. Remember the "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..." song with the marble and flashing colours in Sesame Street? I would scream when it came on to the point where my brother would start singing it if he wanted me to go away. It still gives me shivers for no reason. So when I wrote an evil character, I wanted to write him as sufficiently evil and corrupt that people would not want to sympathize with him, but also not have him so creepy and perverted that girls dreamt of being attacked by him. It's a hard line to walk, to be honest, especially in writing. You can't write tone. A person's imagination adds the inflections. And having someone say, "Come into my room," when they're a friend and offering pizza brings up a whole different image than, "Come into my room," when another person is tied up and screaming inside. 

It's easier when there is a battle, which may or may not happen in this or another book. (NO SPOILERS!) But not as easy when a creepy old dude traps a young girl in a cave when he is known to murder women and children. That's bad enough, right?

The Mystice Marshes

Back in the day when I was younger and slightly more adventurous, I went white water rafting. A few times, actually. And it never went as planned.

The first time we went, I had a blast! We wore wet suits since the water was so cold that if we fell in we would become hypothermic in minutes. It was a beautiful experience, and so relaxing for a first time rafting experience. There were a few great rapids, but nothing too intense. But why are we talking about white water rafting? Because when they yell, "TWO RIGHT!" you better be prepared to make two strong strokes on the right, just like Beriothien instructed his team.

Fast forward to the next year. We went on another amazing trip and went white water rafting with another crew. But here's the thing, when you book a white water rafting trip, there's usually a line of people who have booked and you get put into a group. However, when we arrived, there were two other rafts who already had their groups picked and it was my friend and I in the third raft. Since rafts can't go with two guests and a guide, two other guides joined us. Which meant we had the most experienced raft I think I'll ever have. The guides told us at one point that we could "bow ride," which is when you ride on the front of the raft through the rapids. They said it could be intense, but encouraged us to try. We were up for anything at this point, given we had just come back from Thailand two days prior and were actually super jet-lagged, so we did whatever they suggested. It was NUTS! The rapids were huge compared to our casual trip the year prior, and we flew over the waves! After we went through an intense rapids, named "Granny's Panties," he called us back to our seats and was laughing hysterically. We asked what was going on and he didn't say, but the guide in the raft ahead of us yelled back, "You guys are insane! I've never seen anyone bow ride through Granny's Panties before!" Turns out this wasn't a common occurrence and they figured they could get away with it since they had so many experienced rafters in the boat. This was also the year where I was told I looked "challenged" when I was rafting and began to feel very self-conscious in the raft.

Let me take you on a journey to year three of white water rafting. I don't really remember much about this year, except that I was once again accused of having a "challenged" look on my face for our pictures. Apparently when I'm happy and excited, I look slow. But our guide was intense and no one wanted to ride in the front as the front is responsible for the pace, and since we were highly experienced...more like musical and could keep a rhythm... we volunteered. I remember we tried "surfing" for the first time this year. Basically this involves finding a wave with a strong undercurrent, paddling like mad people to get on top of it, and then surfing as it spins beneath the raft. I remember paddling into the wave and the nose of the raft sunk into the water. I thought we were going under until we popped up on top and surfed for a second before it spit us out again. Oh yeah, this was also the year where we got caught in a rapid and I was flung out of the raft as the whole raft tilted and threatened to tip. Everyone dove to the high side but I had my head underwater in the low side and only my foot jammed into the side of the raft kept me from going over. In a feat of unexpected strength, I hoisted myself up far enough for my friend to grab my hand, pull me in just as the raft came down with a crash, and we kept paddling like nothing happened. That's right, I didn't let go of my paddle. Take that, raft guide! BTW, she had her emergency bag in hand and was ready to dive in after me, that's how close I was. Yet here I am. 

It wasn't until our fourth year of rafting that I actually thought I was going to die. Both literally, and figuratively. We went rafting with this group who had never rafted before. Since we'd been several times now and were SOOOO experienced (sarcasm), we let the father/son duo sit in the front. However, they sucked at keeping time and we traded part way through. Again we tried "surfing" on a wave, which was much larger and more intense. We paddled madly to get on top and again the water flooded the front of the raft, dragging the nose under. We knew eventually we could get up on top again, but it was so fast, and so strong, that it flooded my corner completely, dragged me under, and essentially waterboarded me. I literally thought I was going to drown. I was flailing about, looking for anything to grasp to pull myself up but found nothing. Until my hand connected with what I thought was someone's knee, and I grabbed hard and yanked myself upright. I remember a few people in the raft pointing and laughing, and I glared at them because I was terrified. When we got to our next stop, my friend told me that wasn't a knee I grabbed, but the nether-regions of the man behind me. That was a first. 

I haven't been rafting since. I've wanted to, but it isn't the type of thing you do alone and I don't have very many adventurous friends anymore. Still, I might choose an easier rafting experience next time. And maybe take some girlfriends who don't want to see me die like the random guys in the raft.

All in all, it's an experience I recommend, despite the unfortunate events. That's fairly normal for me, so it's doubtful that will happen to you. :)

A Sinking Feeling

Some chapters are harder to comment on than others. Not because I didn't enjoy writing them, or because nothing happened, but because it's hard to explain my thinking process. Why did I write an underwater city into this book? Not sure, to be honest. I thought it would be funny to have an underwater city that was massive and had large spaces to relax in and have everyone asleep. It's like going to a university at night, but where there are sharks outside the walls. 

I watched a movie called Sharknado once where a tornado came through an area with sharks, picked them up, and brought them into the city where they ate people as they swirled by in the tornado. It was basically the best plot line ever for lame movie night. Especially because it was so obvious when the shark was going to come on screen that we literally counted down to every attack. Hilarious!

Also, why is the character named Pickles? Well, I thought about how some people get tattoos of Chinese words on their body and say to people, "Yeah, it says 'peace' and I got it to remember my bunny who made me feel so special." Meanwhile Chinese speakers look at it and say, "That actually says 'soup.'" And I thought, how hilarious would it be for elves to have human words as their names? Let's face it, according to the tale so far, all the mothers of the younger elves are humans, so they would know human languages and words. So why are all the elves named things like Taurion and Megildur and the like? Where is Bob or George or Pickles?

Right here, that's where.

Chapter 18

 

Chapter 18 is here! 

Let's review a few things here:

1. I have been recording these chapters over months, so the voices may have changed a smidge. My apologies.

2. I am not a professional voice actor. Although I am thinking I could give it a go one day, I did not practice these nor have I read this book in ages! Did I write it? Yes! Do I remember what I've written? No! This is just as much an adventure for me as it is for you. If I was doing this as a professional recording, I would reformat it, practice it, read it multiple times first, and then record.

3. I am doing all these recordings in one take, even if I mess up. Yeah, there's no fixing or redoing or trying again. I just record and let it go. No time for perfection over here. 

So please be gentle with me and patient with me as you listen. It's not perfect, but you get the gist.