Erin Morgenstern's Blog, page 16

flax-golden tales: to the ones who do the leaving

to the ones who do the leaving

This is an ode to the ones who do the leaving.

The ones who dare to break ties and hearts

because they know they are not princes in disguise,

are not one true loves,

are not cursed.

Those who cannot be anything but what they are

no matter how they try.

The ones who know that they are swans

even if they pretend to be princes for a time

out of politeness,

out of fear,

or to meet expectations.

Because it felt easier,

or safer,

to be something they are not.

The ones who told themselves lies

and sometimes even believed them.

The ones who have come to learn that staying is the cowardly act

and that running away can be brave.

The ones who find their voices,

find their feathers,

find their wings

and leave the familiar in favor of the unknown.

The ones who realize

they can be something true

somewhere else.

And to seek it

they must leave

the place where they were.

 

About flax-golden tales . Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

circus art

I shared this over on Tumblr and Twitter last week but I thought I’d put it over here for good measure.

Illustration of Celia by the amazingly talented Abigail Larson:

Prints are available over here. I already ordered one.

The Night Circus was published 2 years ago this week. It seems like it was just yesterday and so very long ago, both together at the same time. Something about this picture is perfect for how I feel about it lately, moving toward something else but still surrounded by stripes and feathers and magic.

flax-golden tales: lucky

lucky

Most patrons assume the name doesn’t actually mean anything, but establishments are not permitted use of the word “Lucky” unless they have approval from the Board of Fortuity.

The Board of Fortuity prefers to keep such things regulated, though the regulations are hardly public knowledge. Often the assessments are performed without the proprietor’s knowledge, but they are always assessed if they dare to use the L-word.

(Venues that do not pass assessment meet with unfortunate ends and are often deemed “unlucky” in headlines reporting their passings with predictable lack of creativity.)

To ensure approval, something provided by the Lucky-monikered establishment must provide legitimate luck. The assessments are quite thorough and only a few pass with colors resembling flying, most barely qualify and many of those will fail future reassessments.

Lucky Cat is the most popular though the only item on the menu that contains a significant amount of luck is the Jungle Bird, rarely ordered and even more rarely imbibed properly.

Once, someone ordered every lucky pastry at The Lucky Fig and managed to cheat death three times on his way home afterward, though he didn’t notice.

The luckiest of Lucky establishments is a Board of Fortuity secret but some suspect it belongs to a jeweler who unknowingly crafts her wares from extremely fortuitous metals, as her supplier has kept this information to himself.

No one will confirm or deny this, but it has not escaped notice that every member of the Board of Fortuity wears at least one piece of Lucky Stars jewelry.

 

About flax-golden tales . Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

home again home again

Returned from the road tripping and now I’m catching up on life, though the catching will likely take awhile.

Had a lovely time at a lovely wedding of a friend of Adam’s (they had a tower of donuts instead of a cake!) and got a lot of reading done and had a lot of delicious food and my first pumpkin spice latte of the season.

Also I had a cotton candy ice cream cone that was very pretty, look:

(It was not as cotton candy-tasting as it could have been, but it was very good. I have had more strongly flavored cotton candy ice cream, but this one was prettier.)

Back in NYC, reveling in the almost-autumn feeling even though I can’t believe it’s September already, getting into full-time work mode and looking forward to my first fall in the city. I’ve never seen the leaves change here, and I am fond of change and leaves.

flax-golden tales: a welcome from the watchers

a welcome from the watchers

Welcome, new neighbor!

We would like to offer you a few reminders about the building.

Outgoing postal mail may be placed in the marked basket in the front hall.

Cardboard and glass recycling is sorted in the basement.

Please do not enter the hallway between the hours of 3:05am to 4:47am, no matter what you may hear.

Never, ever feed the sparrows in the backyard.

And please refrain from doing laundry on days with an “e” in them.

We wish you sunshine and happiness, even when it is raining.

We hope you will enjoy living here.

And we remind you that even though you may never see us, we are always watching.

 

About flax-golden tales . Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

brief psa

Erinland is on the road and not operating as usual this week, though Friday’s flax-golden tale will be posted because of the magic of pre-scheduling things.

(Erinland is not on vacation, per se, just doing stuff that is not occurring in NYC. If all goes according to plan, proper vacationing will occur in October.)

So I will not be properly blogging* for about a week & I will be quieter than usual on Twitter. I will likely keep Tumbling things that I like on Tumblr at the same rate, which is inconsistently.

Here is a picture from the road, complete with my feet floating in the sky through the magic of reflection and light and glass and the fact that Adam doesn’t mind my feet on the dashboard.

Will be back soon.

*this is a sorry excuse for a blog post and mostly just here to have something in between last week’s flaxie and the next one.

flax-golden tales: over land or over water

over land or over water

they make you choose before you depart

you cannot see the paths

they ask only if you prefer to travel over land or over water

(they are considerate enough to ensure that if you choose the water route, you have appropriate footwear)

you will think, as you attempt to navigate the slippery rocks with your rugged yet soggy boots, that those who choose the land route must have it easier and you will be certain that you chose badly, but this is incorrect

those who travel over land will seethe with envy as they remove stones from their boots and curse the birds that swoop down and peck at their ears

even as the fish nip at your heels

the choices are neither good nor bad, they are only choices

you could have chosen not to travel at all, to remain as you were

that wouldn’t get you anywhere.

 

About flax-golden tales . Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

this started out about spaces & then became about writing & life

I did get back to The Evolution Store to get antlers for the fireplace. (Also got a quartz cluster that is sitting on my desk next to my statue of Thoth.)

It took me several tries to get the antlers to sit properly but then they just settled like that and looked perfectly at home and almost flame-like. I do think I’ll add ribbons or such eventually, but for now they look lovely unadorned in the flickering glow of the ersatz candles.

I am especially pleased with this as the fireplace was one of the only empty-feeling pockets left in the apartment, probably because it usually didn’t have a fire in it. It’s right in the middle of the living room so it was a bit like a central abyss and it feels much more finished with stuff in it.

It seems like it took ages to move past the cardboard box missing furniture stage of the moving, and other than a few little things (like antlers) the whole space is feeling properly home-warm and cozy. There’s a lot of green and blue and the bedroom ended up with a subtle honeybee theme, but the overall look is a little bit industrial, a little bit vintage, a little bit art deco in a Bioshock sort of way. (I am still on the lookout for an antique diving helmet.) (Also our bookshelves are already operating at capacity and eventually we will need new ones.)

It feels more like home than any space I’ve lived in for a very long time, which is refreshing and happy-making.

I like creating spaces, though most of them are imaginary. I’m still in architect mode with the new novel and it’s nice to have a real space to decorate and develop a lighting scheme for. I have a lamp that will probably find its way into the book somewhere. Not sure if there will be antlers anywhere, might save those for a different story.

There’s a lot of new (some of it is old and new-to-me) in this space which I suppose is good for trying and writing new things. Not sure I would have thought to put antlers in a fireplace before but I wanted something to fill it and I was thinking of branches and then thought antlers would be more interesting.

It’s often not the first idea that’s the best one but a lot of times the first idea leads to a better one.

That’s a sentiment that could be applied to a great many things, actually.

I’m still trying to work with so much new on so many levels in such a comparatively short amount of time. It’s disorienting, sometimes, trying to learn out how to live and work in a completely different way. I don’t know what works and what doesn’t for me now yet so I’m trying new things like honeycomb rugs and writing longhand and drinking lots of yerba mate.

Figuring out how to fill abysses both real and fictional with the right combination of antlers and light.

Looking for the new ideas that will lead me to the right ideas.

flax-golden tales: the floral post

the floral post

I thought the box on the fence was a proper mailbox because it said “post” but the first outgoing letter I put inside reappeared on my windowsill the next day with a key on top that kept the wind from carrying it away and a solitary indigo-and-yellow pansy.

I knew the key would fit the box but I tested it anyway, just to be sure.

It still took me awhile to figure out how it worked, at least in concept.

Sometimes it’s a single blossom waiting inside the box. Other days the floral post brings full bouquets or potted orchids.

Often there are roses–white or red or yellow flame-tipped–in shades that always seem to suit my mood.

Once there were only petals, a rainbow of color that fluttered to the sidewalk like the misplaced feathers of countless tropical birds.

I haven’t figured out how they get there, though I’m not sure I want to know. The flowers don’t appear every day but they arrive quite frequently and I’ve never seen anyone go near the box.

When there’s something inside to find, the yellow painted flower glows a little brighter.

 

About flax-golden tales . Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

things i *heart* right now

This is an unnumbered list of things I really like right now. Snapshot of the happy-making tastes and sights and sounds of mid-August, 2013.

 

Homemade scones with maple butter.

I love scones but had never made one I really loved until recently. I finally found a perfect scone recipe, this one from smitten kitchen. I pretty much follow the recipe except I use gluten-free Cup4Cup flour & both times I’ve made them so far I haven’t had cream so I used a sneaky kitchen trick and substituted melted butter mixed with milk. So even without proper cream they are indeed dreamy cream scones.

Also, I don’t know how I managed to grow up in New England and not discover maple butter (also known as maple cream) sooner, or perhaps it’s just that my tastebuds have evolved and I like maple as a flavor more now, and also I’m not sure I knew what to put it on before, but oh, it is creamy autumnal heaven.

(I’ve also been putting maple butter in my coffee. I think I’m craving fall.)

 

The Killing.

I owe my parents an apology for not watching this show sooner because they’ve been talking about it for ages. We’re only mid season two (and I’m glad I was forewarned that s2 gets a little slow) so I didn’t even properly look at that AMC link to the show page because as far as I know s3 just ended. I love a good crime show anyway and this one has the best detective pairing I’ve seen in ages. It does make Seattle look super dreary, though.

 

The Backlit Keyboard on My New Laptop.

I have never had a laptop with glowy keys before and it feels all sci-fi and fancy.

(MacBook Air, for the curious. Same as my old one only glowier and with far superior battery life.)

(Typing on it now. The rest of this novel is in here, I can tell. Well, some of it is in fountain pens, but eventually all of it will be in here.)

 

The Evolution Store.

We stumbled upon this store in SoHo mostly by accident and I was surprised I hadn’t heard of it before. It is full of skeletons and taxidermy and wonderful-creepy things.

I spent a very long time contemplating whether or not I wanted a taxidermy duckling and then decided it was too “cute but sad.” (Also we have a moratorium on creatures in the apartment right now. From where I’m sitting I can see an elephant, a bunny, two ravens, a small plush white lion and something with tentacles. We have no rule about skeletons, though.)

Going to go back soon to get a pile of antlers to keep in the fireplace. Will possibly tie festive ribbons around them for holidays.

 

M83′s “Midnight City”

Tweeted this last night:

In that writing phase where I listen to the same song over & over & over again because something in it sounds the way the words should feel.

— erin morgenstern (@erinmorgenstern) August 15, 2013

 

This is the current song that the novel-in-progress wants to listen to over and over and over and over and over: