Reid's relationship with the Windwillows is a very interesting and complex one, much more so than how it started out.
Fauns and humans may get along considerably better than they used to, but for the most part, a barrier still lingers. While most of them may not try to harm each other, sticking to their own kind remains an unspoken rule.
That's why it was such a big deal when Malachi became the first faun High Priest, and that's what feeds the conflict for my overall story. It is possible and ultimately vital to overcome prejudice, but it's a complicated process and even those who make it through don't get there overnight.
It even took Jonathan quite a few years to really warm up to humans, more so due to his beloved father's horrifying brush with death at the hands of humans. And then when Jonathan got to the point where he started to embrace a human as legitimate family, his parents raised a surprising protest...which didn't sit well with him or Reid, to say the least.
You could say Reid's need to be loved is one of his weaknesses. He can be a bit too clingy for his own good, but he doesn't force anyone to like him or act entitled in any way. Let's just say he trusts the Windwillows a little too much at first, and then they learn a hard lesson in taking such trust for granted. So, neither side is all right or all wrong, and lessons on both sides are learned the hard way.
As irony would have it, fauns are big on loyalty and don't take kindly to betrayal. Then the Windwillows, who know as well as anyone what it's like to be on the receiving end, find themselves doing the exact same thing to someone else.
For all the pain Reid goes through, this is among the worst. He can sort of expect everything else to happen to him, he can almost count on other people hurting him...but having the very people he was so sure he could trust stab him in the back is something else. He's like an affectionate dog who gets struck out of the blue by the same hand that used to pet him, and now he cowers in the corner with his tail between his legs.
This is heavily based on Sulley scaring Boo in Monsters, Inc. Man, I'm choking myself up already.
My main books are Christian fantasy, and my character Malachi is the first faun to become the High Priest of a Christian church.
This is him in his younger years, at the lowest point he's ever been in his life.
He's just lost his parents, his big acting career is over, and everything is simply in an awful mess. He only refrains from committing suicide because that would be the easy way out and he doesn't deserve it, and he doesn't want to hurt his remaining family members even more.
With nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, he stumbles upon a Christian church and somehow manages to set hoof through the doors. At first, all he can do is cry it out, until a special someone comes to him.
The man's name is Joram, and he's the High Priest of the Church at that time and as deserving of the position as anyone else.
Most people avoid Malachi or ridicule him because he's a faun, but Joram knows what this faun really needs and is more than willing to give it to him. A few fauns have joined the Christian sect every so often, but they also keep to themselves most of the time.
For the time being, Joram tries to let this young stag know he's here for him and it's not too late to turn over a new leaf. It takes a long time for Malachi to get back on his hooves and even longer to forgive himself, but this marks the point where his life starts moving in the right direction. In hindsight, he's immensely grateful to Joram and can't think about the man without getting a little teary-eyed.
No, Malachi isn't Joram's immediate successor. He doesn't become High Priest himself for a few more decades. But when that day finally comes, he's truly honored and humbled to put the same mantle on his shoulders and don the same winged ornament below his throat. He also keeps a special photo of Joram in his office, often pauses at the man's painted portrait on the wall in that special hall, and tells his children all about his old friend.
Joram really had no way of knowing just how far his influence would spread.
Every year, I make a small tribute to 9/11, and this year is no exception.
I also play Alan Jackson's "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)" a few times, and lately, I've been playing some Peter, Paul, and Mary songs since they were very big anti-war advocates. My dad liked them a lot, too.
Can't believe it's been 23 years since it happened. Can't believe something like this even happened to begin with. It will never cease to amaze me how far people will go to cause other people harm.
On the other hand, we mustn't forget the good that usually comes out of the bad. History should be preserved no matter how uncomfortable it makes us, if we have any hope in the world of never repeating it. The victims deserve to be remembered, and it remains truly inspiring and humbling how many of us pulled together, both then and now.
I think the 2002 Spider-Man movie sums up the fighting, tribal spirit of New York up nicely:
Where has the starlight gone?
Dark is the day
How can I find my way home?
Home is an empty dream
Lost to the night
Father, I feel so alone
You promised you'd be there
Whenever I needed you
Whenever I call your name
You're not anywhere
I'm trying to hold on
Just waiting to hear your voice
One word, just a word will do
To end this nightmare
When will the dawning break
Oh, endless night
Sleepless I dream of the day
When you were by my side
Guiding my path
Father, I can't find the way
You promised you'd be there
Whenever I needed you
Whenever I call your name
You're not anywhere
I'm trying to hold on
Just waiting to hear your voice
One word, just a word will do
To end this nightmare
I know that the night must end
And that the sun will rise
And that the sun will rise
I know that the clouds must clear
And that the sun will shine
And that the sun will shine
And I know that the night must end
And that the sun will rise
And that the sun will rise
I know that the clouds must clear
And that the sun will shine
And that the sun will shine
I know
Yes, I know
The sun will rise
Yes, I know
I know
The clouds must clear
I know that the night must end
I know that the sun will rise
And I'll hear your voice deep inside
I know that the night must end
And that the clouds must clear
The sun
The sun will rise
The sun
The sun will rise
From Wikipedia: "Endless Night" is a song written by Lebo M, Hans Zimmer, Julie Taymor, and Jay Rifkin. It premiered in 1997 as part of the musical The Lion King, a stage adaptation of Disney's 1994 animated feature film of the same name. Mark Mancina produced the song and arranged by Mark A. Brymer. Taymor wrote the lyrics based on the melody from "Lala", a song from the 1995 soundtrack album Rhythm of the Pride Lands. Jason Raize, who first performed the role of Simba for the Broadway production, first performed and recorded "Endless Night"; his version is included on the original cast recording.
"Endless Night" is a ballad that lyrically deals with Simba grieving the death of his father Mufasa. The song includes vocals by a choir that encourages Simba to move forward. Reception to the song was mainly positive. Some commentators praised how it helped to develop Simba's character.
My own thoughts: The Lion King was never my favorite movie, but when I gave this song a try, I found myself liking it.
It does a great job of showing how much Simba is still hurting from his father's loss, how the "Hakuna Matata" approach isn't really working, and it adds an extra layer of sadness to Mufasa's death.
I can very easily hear a few of my own characters singing something like this.
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone
Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow,
And tomorrow never came
From the table in the corner,
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now!
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
On this lonely barricade
At dawn
Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more
Oh my friends, my friends,
Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more
From Wikipedia: "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" is Marius's solo after the battle. Sitting alone at the café, knowing he's the only one to survive, other than Jean Valjean, he regrets and reminisces the loss of his friends.
The song uses similar tunes from "Prologue: Valjean Arrested" and "Valjean Forgiven." In the 1991 Parisian Revival Version, the song is titled "Seul devant ces tables vides," which means "Alone in Front of These Empty Tables."
My own thoughts: Either this song or "I Dreamed a Dream" is the first to spring to mind whenever someone mentions the musical. Many people cite it as their most favorite song of all, and I think it's safe to say it's my favorite, too. I especially love the version sung by Michael Ball, and Cormac Thompson sang a most incredible version when he was just 13 years old.
This song would fit perfectly in several of my own stories. Not only would it fit Reid and Terence, since they both deal with war and deep personal loss, but it would also fit Beowulf to a tee, especially after he first becomes a werewolf.
There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame
He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came
And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream
I dreamed
From Wikipedia: "I Dreamed a Dream" is a solo that is sung by the character Fantine during the first act. The music is by Claude-Michel Schönberg with orchestrations by John Cameron. The English lyrics are by Herbert Kretzmer, based on the original French libretto by Alain Boubli and Jean-Marc Natel from the original French production.
The song is a lament, sung by the anguished Fantine, who has just been fired from her job at the factory and thrown onto the streets. She thinks back to happier days and wonders at all that has gone wrong in her life.
My own thoughts: This song was my first official introduction to Les Misérables, and the version by Susan Boyle was the first one I heard.
Opinions on Anne Hathaway's performance in the 2012 movie vary, but I like it, and so did my dad. Dad called Anne Hathaway's crying the most realistic crying he'd ever heard, and he admired how she was able to sing and cry at the same time. That took real talent, he said, and I couldn't agree more.
To this day, my heart truly aches for Fantine. She's a poor, innocent girl who was woefully taken advantage of, and the man who impregnated her gets off scot-free. Chances are he has no idea what happened to her after he'd had his fun with her, and he most likely couldn't care less. She, on the other hand, thought he loved her for real, and in my opinion, that's the absolute worst thing you can do to a person.
Now she's the one who must suffer the consequences, with everybody treating her like scum just because she dared to have a child out of wedlock, and the people who are supposed to help her take care of her daughter are taking advantage of her in all the wrong ways as well. At least Jean Valjean understands and cares, so he becomes a worthy paternal substitute, the kind of man Fantine deserved all along.
Man, Victor Hugo sprinkles no sugar whatsoever in his story. Rumor had it that he personally rescued a prostitute who was being mistreated and on the brink of getting arrested for pure self-defense, and it only worked because he was already a renowned public figure himself. In any case, he had a lot to say about the conditions of the poor and the horrific social injustices they dealt with, and there's excellent reason why the overall title is Les Misérables, which literally translates to "The Miserable Ones."
As depressing as the story is, it's a rather enlightening depression, just like Black Beauty and The Great Gatsby, among many others. I've yet to read the novel but I think the musical did a great job. Like I mentioned earlier, it was one of the few three-hour movies in which I didn't get too restless, and I still like to play a song here and there.
"Look at me,
I will never pass for a perfect prince
Or a perfect son
Can it be
I'm not meant to play this part?
Now I see
That if I were truly to be myself,
I would break my family's heart."
Mulan had a lot of influence on Reid's character and his story, so this is all too fitting. He tries so hard to fit in, and yet he has a special knack for royally screwing things up. He tries to be no one but himself, and yet (almost) everybody treats him like he should be somebody else altogether, including his parents. Even the Windwillows take a while to accept him the way he is.
In the end, being himself makes all the difference in the world. In the end, his reflection indeed shows who he is inside. Like the blossom that blooms in adversity, he's "the most rare and beautiful of all."
Well, today's day one of the 2023 version of FanX. And this time, I'm not participating.
(All images property of their respective owners.)
I couldn't even if I wanted to, since I'm much too broke. Even with my ongoing job and trying to save up as much as possible, I don't have half of what I forked out last year. Most of my tax refund has already been used up.
And FanX, needless to say, does not come cheap. Everything costs an arm and a leg: a decent table, celebrity photo shoots, your own merchandise, and if you don't live close to Salt Lake, transportation is a headache, too.
So, like I said, I can't go, and I've no burning desire to go back anytime soon anyhow, if ever. I'm still nursing my wounds (if you can call them that) from last year.
In hindsight, I'm both proud of myself and ashamed of myself. I'm proud about my boldness, diligence, and hard work; I maintain that the artwork I made is my finest work yet. Looking at it now, I still think it's really good. I couldn't have pulled it off without the assistance of my dear friend and unofficial art partner, Kelly Schwedler. Everyone who saw my work liked what they saw, so that's one step in the right direction. People have to like you, first and foremost. Verbal praise isn't the same as monetary compensation, but it was something.
On the other hand, I'm ashamed of my woeful overconfidence. I bit off way more than I had the capacity to chew. If I hadn't invested so much, the financial failure wouldn't sting so much.
Then again, in my defense, I was left to figure out everything for myself, literally everything, and I'd never done anything like this before. I could take no more than wild guesses and hope for the best. I sure could have used a partner, someone who was a bit more knowledgeable about marketing art, and besides, I could have used a friend.
All the other vendors had somebody with them. Every table had groups of two or three at bare minimum. So, most of my time there was boring and lonely. I don't relish the thought of going through something like that again, another big reason for my reluctance.
There were a couple of people who were going to help me at first, but their plans fell apart at the last minute. I don't blame them, but again, this meant I was pretty much on my own, which was nowhere near as much fun. The phrase "alone in a crowd" took on a whole new meaning.
I couldn't even use my phone for entertainment. There was no place to plug in my phone charger, I needed to save the battery for calling my mom later, and I would have had to pay extra for the use of their Wi-Fi anyway. So, to quote The Cat in the Hat:
As I said, people liked me, but few liked me enough to actually pay me. I now scoff at people who try to say, "Just think of all the exposure you'll get!"
Yeah, sure, exposure's nice and all, but it only gets you halfway there at best. I also roll my eyes at amateurs who assume being an artist or author is easy, that it's only a matter of time before you're rolling in fortune and fame. You're in for a rude awakening, soldiers.
I've gained a new appreciation for the advice I got in college, "Make sure you have a backup plan. It could happen, but the odds of it not happening are much greater."
Of course, I really tried not to get my hopes up too high. Mentally, I was prepared to not do so well, since I was a first-timer. Emotionally, not so much.
In my head, I understood people only had so much money to spare and only so much space at home, so their rejection of me was nothing personal. But the heart doth protest nonetheless.
I guess the letdown also hit me as hard as it did because my self-esteem has always been a little wobbly. Art and writing are among the few things I feel I'm actually good at, and I don't have much to look forward to or hope for these days, so disappointments of this magnitude are a lot more painful.
Now, that's not to say it's been all bad. It might not have been what I expected, but it was far from horrible.
Besides my pride in the quality of my work, there was definitely plenty to see. FanX is, in essence, an indoor carnival. People dress up in all sorts of crazy, creative ways; in this case, Halloween comes twice in the year. It's amazing to see what people come up with and it's obvious you won't find such costumes in any store.
The costume that jumped out at me the most was Steamboat Willie. A girl had painted her face white and her nose black, and she wore a sort of steamboat all around her, which made it a little awkward for her to move around and turn corners, but her appearance was truly striking. I made it easy on myself by dressing up in a simple Mario or Luigi costume, though a few people asked to take a picture with me, to which I gladly obliged.
I was planning to just wear jeans, and then I decided to add to the authenticity with actual overalls. Boy, those overalls were a tight fit. I had quite a time getting into them and unfastening the straps when necessary. But at least I looked good, and I was among the few vendors to dress up.
I got to meet a few celebrities face-to-face, even if it was only for a few seconds. To be fair, they had a tight schedule, the lines were incredibly long (I waited at least an hour each time), and they didn't have all day to chitchat with each person. At least you got to see them up close, talk to them, and get a picture for keeps.
I enjoyed meeting Jodi Benson and AJ McLean the most. Jodi was so sweet, and AJ is very huggable; I got two hugs from him, he was pleased to hear I loved his music and he playfully called me "Mario" when I was dressed as Luigi that day, and I said afterward, "The Backstreet Boys are real teddy bears!"
I also quipped, "Only a real fan will wait in line for three hours to meet their idol for three seconds."
I wish I'd organized my stuff better, but being paid less meant my commission payment to FanX (you had to give them a fair share of your profits) was smaller. My overall payment to them was less than $30, and I wonder what their reaction was when they saw my check. They probably thought, "Wow, she didn't make much, did she?"
In the end, I donated what was left to FanX and to Deseret Industries, which I was able to claim on my taxes later. But I've kept the digital copies of the artwork, and I've since attempted a few more pin designs, since those sold best. By far, my most popular item was the Jack Skellington pin, although my food and frog pins also sold fairly well. The Mickey Mouse faces were a modest success, too, and I easily sold more postcards than posters.
Maybe, if I ever do FanX or any other convention again, I'll just stick to the small, simple stuff. People were more drawn to my pins, magnets, and cards because they didn't cost much or take up much room.
So, in conclusion, I'm not giving up. I'm really trying to learn from this experience, see it as a form of constructive criticism. But I probably went for the big thing before I was ready. And once again, if I ever do this again, it'll be on a much smaller, much more manageable scale.
Like they say, only time will tell, and you only truly fail when you quit altogether.
Another painful lesson learned: order the goods well ahead of time, so you make it easy on the poor people printing out your goods, and you won't lose more money on speedy shipment fees.
And finally, to those who are giving it an honest shot this year, good luck. You're gonna need it.
