Shannon > Recent Status Updates

Yay! Assassin nuns with magical powers! :D

"Raffe sounds like Raw Feet. Coincidence?" That gets a smile out of him. When he smiles, he really does look like someone you'd want to get to know. Some otherworldly handsome guy a girl could dream about.
Only he's not a guy. And he's too otherworldly. Not to mention that this girl is beyond dreaming about anything other than food, shelter, and the safety of her family.

This girl really is a breath of fresh air

My right wing wobbles, then slips down a notch or two. In my rush to right it, I wiggle to get a better grip, but that just brings more attention to it as the wing waves up and down.
In the long second before everyone absorbs what just happened, I see the angel rolling his eyes heavenward, like a teenager in the presence of overwhelming lameness. Some people just have no sense of gratitude.

If we had been back in the old world, in the World Before, I would have called an ambulance despite the fact that he had attacked my mother. The doctors would have fixed him up, and he would have had all the time he needed to recover in jail. But unfortunately for all of us, this is the World After.
I step around him and leave him to his slow death.

His chest is bare, his shirt torn away. Six butter knives stick out of his flesh in a circular pattern. Someone has drawn a powder-pink lipstick pentagram with the knives at the end of the points. Blood bubbles up from each of the knives. The man is all eyes and shock as he stares at the ruin of his chest as though unable to believe it has anything to do with him.
My mother is safe.

Slightly related to this book, I have an app on my iPhone called "Pimp Your Screen" (yes, I know it's a stupid name) and it has a bunch of really cool wallpaper for lock and home screens. And they update it too, plus the designs are incredibly well-done. They even release a bunch around Holidays that are themed. Anyway, I just changed mine to this:

Apt, no?

Asleep, he looks like a bleeding Prince Charming chained in the dungeon. When I was little, I always thought I'd be Cinderella, but I guess this makes me the wicked witch.
But then again, Cinderella didn't live in a post-apocalyptic world invaded by avenging angels.

"Make sure you wear the stars." She's referring to the yellow asterisks she's sewn on our clothes. How I can not wear them is beyond me. It's on everything we own.
"Okay, Mom."
Despite her star comment, she sounds lucid. Maybe that's not the healthiest thing after desecrating a corpse.

An easy 5 stars for this one. I can't believe this was based on a true story! It really makes this book that much more bittersweet.

grooming

Is there anything sweeter than the touch of another as she pulls a dead bug from your fur?

remembering

Bob and Ruby sleep on.

I don't sleep. I think about the promise I made to Stella, and the pictures I've made for Ruby. And I remember.

I remember it all.

I can't put more than this in this update, but what he remembers is heart-breaking. Sometimes I really hate the human race.

Not everyone comments or "likes" my stuff all of the time but I love seeing people add the less popular books I'm reading. When I first started The One and Only Ivan, only 3 friends had it shelved, but now 6 do. And since I started updating on the 21st, 7 of my followers have added it as well. And then I'm sure a few of their friends added it also. This is one of my favorite things about this site.

"What's a zoo?" Ruby asks.

"A zoo, Ruby, is a place where humans make amends. A good zoo is a place where humans care for animals and keep them safe."

"Did the baby elephant get to the zoo?" Ruby asks softly.

I don't answer right away. "Yes," I say at last.

"How did she get there?" Ruby asks.

"She had a friend," I say. "A friend who made a promise."

Human babies are an ugly lot. But their eyes are like our babies' eyes.

Too big for their faces, and for the world.

Stella once teased me that elephants are superior because they feel more joy and more grief than apes.

"Your gorilla hearts are made of ice, Ivan," she said, her eyes glittering. "Ours are made of fire."

Right now I would give all the yogurt raisins in all the world for a heart made of ice.

:'(

"What's a dollar? What's a gift store?"

I close my eyes. "I'm a little sleepy, Ruby."

"Have you ever driven a truck?" Ruby asks.

I don't answer.

"Ivan?" Ruby asks. "Can Bob fly?"

A memory flashes past me, surprising me. I think of my father, snoring peacefully under the sun while I try every trick I know to wake him.

Perhaps, I realize, he wasn't really such a sound sleeper after all.

sorry

I'm sorry I called those children slimy chimps.

My mother would be ashamed of me.

my visitors return

After the show, the spit-pebble children come back.

I display my impressive teeth. I splash in my filthy pool. I grunt and hoot. I eat and eat and eat some more.

The children pound their pathetic chests. They toss more pebbles.

"Slimy chimps," I mutter. I throw a me-ball at them.

Sometimes I wish the glass were not there.

three visitors

Three visitors are here: a woman, a boy, a girl.

I strut across my domain for them. I dangle from my tire swing. I eat three banana peels in a row.

The boy spits at my window. The girl throws a handful of pebbles.

Sometimes I'm glad the glass is there.

Bob used to have three brothers and two sisters. Humans tossed them out of a truck onto the freeway when they were a few weeks old. Bob rolled into a ditch.

The others did not.

:'(

At the Big Top Mall, no one bothers with iron shackles. A bristly rope tied to a bolt is all that's required.

"They think I'm too old to cause trouble," Stella says.

"Old age," she says, "is a powerful disguise."

Elephant hide is thick as bark on an ancient tree, but a claw-stick can pierce it like a leaf.

Once Stella saw a trainer hit a bull elephant with a claw-stick. A bull is like a silverback, noble, contained, calm like a cobra is calm. When the claw-stick caught in the bull's flesh, he tossed the trainer into the air with his tusk.

The man flew, Stella said, like an ugly bird. She never saw the bull again.

:(

Every night, when the stores close and the moon washes the world with milky light, Stella and I talk.

We don't have much in common, but we have enough. We are huge and alone, and we both love yogurt raisins.

Sometimes Stella tells stories of her childhood, of leafy canopies hidden by mist and the busy songs of flowing water. Unlike me, she recalls every detail of her past.

Not long ago, a little boy stood before my glass, tears streaming down his smooth red cheeks. "He must be the loneliest gorilla in the world," he said, clutching his mother's hand.

At times like that, I wish humans could understand me the way I can understand them.

It's not so bad, I wanted to tell the little boy. With enough time, you can get used to almost anything.

Here in my domain, I do not have much to do. You can only throw so many me-balls at humans before you get bored.

A me-ball is made by rolling up dung until it's the size of a small apple, then letting it dry. I always keep a few on hand.

For some reason, my visitors never seem to carry any.

Her voice was like the throaty bark of a dog chained outside on a cold night.

Children wished on pennies and tossed them into her plastic pool. They glowed on the bottom like flat copper stones.

The seal was hungry one day, or bored, perhaps, so she ate one hundred pennies.

Mack said she'd be fine.

He was mistaken.

So sad! Here's a photo of a happy seal I took:

I am never angry.

Anger is precious. A silverback uses anger to maintain order and warn his troop of danger. When my father beat his chest, it was to say, Beware, listen, I am in charge. I am angry to protect you, because that is what I was born to do.

Here in my domain, there is no one to protect.

My domain is at one end of the ring. I live here because I am too much gorilla and not enough human.

Stella's domain is next to mine. Stella is an elephant. She and Bob, who is a dog, are my dearest friends.

At present, I do not have any gorilla friends.

: ( I have a feeling there are going to be a lot of sad moments in this book.

My family tree spreads wide as well. I am a great ape, and you are a great ape, and so are chimpanzees and orangutans and bonobos, all of us distant and distrustful cousins.

I know this is troubling.

I too find it hard to believe there is a connection across time and space, linking me to a race of ill-mannered clowns.

Chimps. There's no excuse for them.

patience

I've learned to understand human words over the years, but understanding human speech is not the same as understanding humans.

Humans speak too much. They chatter like chimps, crowding the world with their noise even when they have nothing to say.