Weeks Twelve-Thirteen: In Which I Get an Overdose of Harry Potter and Doctor Who

Hello Internet!
Happy Late Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it! As you may have noticed, I didn't post last week. There's a simple reason for that: I didn't really have much to post about. A few fun things happened, and I had classes, but I didn't get any pictures and I didn't want to subject you all to a boring block of text. So, this post will talk about the past two weeks and hopefully won't drag on too much.

Gender Identities in Medieval Literature: Unsurprisingly, feminine medieval acts of Chrisitan devotion were extreme. Some women volunteered to spend their entire lives locked in anchorholds (tiny rooms near churches), other women starved themselves to gain religious and societal power. Slightly more surprisingly, medieval Jewish women had a good deal more freedom than medieval Christian women. Jewish women could own property, go to court, and even divorce abusive husbands with relatively few consequences.

Fantasies of Youth: Skellig is weird, Harry Potter is iconic but heavily subjected to consumer capitalism, and The Lie Tree is cool no matter what anyone else says.

Writing for Children: Ironically, while I enjoy historical reenactments, I hate writing historical fiction. On an entirely different note, I believe that people should be able to write about places, people and things they haven't experienced firsthand. If writers only stick to what they know, their writing will be boring and unimaginative. That being said, authors should be sure to approach diverse topics with sensitivity and should do extensive research in order to avoid cultural appropriation.

Advanced Creative Writing Tutorial: I've started my novel over and it's actually going pretty alright.  While I'm still facing some of the problems I did before, I've conquered most of the difficulties I'd been having. For example, I'm no longer adding in fluff to pad my word count and I'm much better at writing realistic interactions between my main characters. I'm also genuinely excited about writing my novel again, which is fantastic. I spent my last class session reworking my timeline and trying to flesh out my minor characters a bit more.

As I mentioned before, the past two weeks were relatively uneventful outside of my classes; I was too busy churning out essays and portfolios to go out and party. However, I still managed to have some fun. On Tuesday of Week Twelve, ASE's academic director brought her puppy into the study center and my friends and I got to spend plenty of time adoring him. Then, that evening, the program's alumni association coordinator held a HEMA workshop at a nearby church. It was very rudimentary--geared toward the classmates of mine who've never swung a sword before-- so I didn't learn too much, but I still had a blast. I really enjoyed watching my peers learn about the hobby I love, and I got to swing a boffer sword, which is always a good time. I even managed to land a blow on the instructor's shoulder, which I was pretty darn proud of!

Lawrie is the Best Boy

On Wednesday of that week, I went to the Bath Spa University Doctor Who Society Debate Night (gosh that was a mouthful!). That was an...interesting experience, to say the least. The debate was informal, but it got very heated, especially when we were discussing who the best Doctor in Doctor Who is (it's totally David Tennant, by the way). My introversion kept me from getting too involved in the debate, but the society was very welcoming and it was really cool to hear everyone's opinions about the long-running, highly popular British show.

Speaking of interesting experiences, the Tuesday after that I went to the launch party for Shadow, a picture book by Lucy Christopher. On one hand, this took place at Mr. B's Emporium, which meant I got to spend the entire evening surrounded by books--always a plus. On the other hand, I didn't know anyone else at the launch, so I spent most of my time awkwardly browsing the shelves until they announced that the author was doing her reading. The reading was done by candlelight and the book itself was super cool, so overall, the night ended on a very positive note.

Hiding by the Children's Books at Mr. B's...

On Thursday, I decided to celebrate the end of essay week and unwind by going ice skating with three of my friends. The rink was absolutely gorgeous, decked out in bright lights and festive garlands, and the ice was wonderfully smooth. My friends and I spent nearly an hour there and managed to stay on our feet the entire time, which was quite the success! Once our feet were sore, our cheeks were red and our noses were numb, we ducked into the nearby lodge to warm up with some drinks. All in all, we had a lovely time reveling in the holiday season.

Good Friends, Good Weather, and Good Exercise

The next day, I wound myself back up again by taking a bus to London. My friend Erin, who's spending the semester in Hungary, met me there, and we spent the weekend exploring London together. And let me tell you, London is an insane, beautiful, chaotic city. Erin and I saw so many things, including no fewer than two people dressed up as Yoda. Here are the highlights, listed in order from least cool to coolest:

19. Borough Market: The marketplace was fully decorated for Christmas and was very lovely, but none of the stalls were open. Which is unfortunate, because apparently that's the place to go for good cheese.

18. London Bridge: I know, I know, it's practically blasphemy to say that London Bridge isn't particularly cool. But I have to admit, it was a little underwhelming, especially after seeing Tower Bridge and Millenium Bridge. It was pretty, but not quite as stunning as some of the other sights we saw.

17. Parliament: We didn't go inside, but the outside of the government building was pretty neat--very regal and dignified. It was also awesome to be so close to a central hub of British politics and history.

16. Leadenhall Market: Again, all of the shops were closed, which sucked. But we did get to see the building that served as The Leaky Cauldron in the Harry Potter movies, which was exceedingly cool.

Leadenhall Market

15. The Globe Theatre: We only saw this attraction in passing, and I am aware that it's merely a reconstruction of the original Globe Theatre, yet the sight of it still made my breath catch in my throat a little. It was a stunning reminder that I was traversing a city that held hundreds of years' worth of history.

14. London Eye: This London monument was very impressive, even from a distance, and seeing it made my Doctor-Who-fan-heart happy.

Two Buds at the London Eye

13. Big Ben: This would've ranked much, much higher had it not been undergoing construction and completely covered by latticework. In any case, it was still awesome.

"Limited Edition" Big Ben

12. The London Tower/Tower Bridge: The plaza between these two attractions was the perfect place to enjoy some traditional fish and chips, and the bridge itself was gorgeous. Also, catching a glimpse of London's medieval history was thrilling for me.

11. National Gallery: I don't like art museums much, but I got to see some paintings by Van Gogh and a room where they filmed a scene in Doctor Who, so I can't complain.

10. 221 Baker Street/Hyde Park: Sorry folks, I'm just not a Sherlock Holmes fan. That being said, visiting a place with such literary relevance left me slightly awestruck. Additionally, the park was breathtakingly gorgeous, though it was also full of very, very aggressive birds.

Braving the hordes at Hyde Park

9. Kensington Gardens: This was the last stop of the weekend for Erin and me, so we didn't get to spend much time there before we had to run and catch our respective busses. Which was a shame, because the gardens' autumn colors were absolutely stunning. The squirrels were also very friendly--one of them almost climbed Erin's leg!

8. Goodwin Court (aka Diagon Alley): Speaking of places with literary relevance that left me awestruck...

Anybody else have the Harry Potter theme song stuck in their head?

7. Trafalgar Square: The square was dazzling, the lions were cool, and the Christmas Market was cozy. What else is there to say?

6. Millenium Bridge: Remember that scene in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince where Death Eaters tear through London and twist a bridge into a pretzel? That bridge, my dear readers, was Millenium Bridge, a structure that looks like it couldn't stand up to a stiff breeze. Of course, because Erin and I are fearless, we walked straight across it.

5. Westminster Abbey: This building's long, distinguished history was evident in its imposing exterior. Oddly enough, it reminded me a bit of the abbey in Bath, though it was bigger and much more ornate.

Westminster Abbey

4. Buckingham Palace/St. James Park: The palace facade was gorgeous, and since Erin and I saw a group of police cars cruising down the nearby streets, I'm pretty sure we witnessed someone famous arriving at the grounds. The park was equally gorgeous and housed enormous pelicans that could've easily bitten my head clean off if they'd been so inclined.

Buckingham Palace

3. British Museum: I got to see the Rosetta Stone! And authentic fourteenth-century armor! And a sword that's longer than I am tall!

2. Platform 9 3/4: Erin and I have officially lived the dream of all Potterheads everywhere. We had to wait in line forever to get our pictures taken at this iconic Harry Potter site, but it was worth every minute. And the pictures turned out so cool!

Petrificus Totalus is Surprisingly Effective...

1. The British Library: This place had so many things to fangirl over that I don't know where to start. There was the literal wall of books, the oldest written copy of the New Testament, The Gutenberg Bible, The Book of Margery Kempe....oh, and we can't forget the original copy of the Magna Carta (that's the second copy I've seen on this trip!). Visting this library made me the happiest bookworm in the world.

As you can probably tell, my weekend in London was insanely busy. Still, I had a great time catching up with Erin and seeing as much of London as I could. Next week I'll be commenting on ASE's attempt host an American Thanksgiving dinner (spoiler alert: it was spectacular), so stay tuned for that!

Thanks for reading!

Abby

Artsy Picture of the Day: Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery

Week Eleven: I Have No Idea What's Happening Anymore

Hello Internet!
Alright, so I'm clearly not back on my normal posting schedule yet, but I'm getting there! With a bit of luck, my next update will be on time. In other news, essays are making my life extremely chaotic again; let's get on with things so I can get back to studying!

Gender Identities in Medieval Literature: This week, my classmates discussed magic and gender in the middle ages. Almost everyone has heard of the witchhunts that doomed many medieval women, but did you know that some medieval men practiced magic too? Male magicians, or mages, were mostly college dropouts who recorded spells for protecting their wealth and seducing women. They weren't criminalized like witches were, but the church didn't approve of them for fairly obvious reasons. They also, for whatever reason, had an obsession with acquiring horses.

Fantasies of Youth: Fair warning: I am about to make some relatively controversial points. This week, my classmates and I read and analyzed The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman. Now, as a child, I was heavily discouraged from reading The Golden Compass due to the rumor that it contained anti-Christian sentiments. Therefore, I went into the book expecting to hate it. I...didn't. Don't get me wrong, I harbor a strong dislike for Philip Pullman; he strikes me as arrogant, hypocritical, and even rather ignorant. However, I enjoyed his story and its characters. In addition, while The Golden Compass is blatantly anti-church, its narrative actually presents a compelling argument for Christianity. And it's worth noting that at some points in history, even the church has been anti-church (that's how Protestantism came about). Overall, what I'm trying to argue is that instead of banning The Golden Compass, Christian families should read the text together and carefully examine how it fits with their faith.

Writing for Children: Fun fact about me: I'm a Type One Diabetic. Additional fun fact about me: for years, I've wanted to write a dystopian novel where children with disabilities are the protagonists. This week, I got to write the first chapter of that novel for in-class workshopping, which was absolutely awesome. I also got to read A Gathering Light by Jennifer Donnelly, which was...interesting. I'll leave it at that.

Advanced Creative Writing Tutorial: So. Last week, my tutor and I were talking about my novel, and we realized that in order for my plot to work, I needed to revise a major worldbuilding detail. This meant that I would basically need to rewrite my entire novel. I'm not going to lie, that realization triggered a minor mental breakdown, and I spent most of my Thursday evening questioning if I even wanted to be a writer. Fortunately, some self-reflection showed me that I truly do want to be an author, even though my path won't be easy. I pulled myself together and came to class this week with a fresh attitude and a character map for my novel. My tutor and I spent the session going over this map and exploring how I can proceed with my novel from here.

As if my classes weren't enough, I decided to also dedicate my Tuesday night to improving my writing. In other words, I attended a workshop on flash fiction, where I learned about a relatively new form of prose and wrote a very brief story based on my experiences working in a cheese plant. All in all, there are worse ways to spend an evening.

On Wednesday, I went back to one of my favorite events in Bath: Jane Austen dancing. As always, I had a wonderful time skipping and twirling across the dance floor. I even managed to stumble through a strange figure-eight maneuver that I learned in the last five minutes of the class, which I consider an accomplishment! I really enjoy regency dancing and I'm hoping to teach it to some friends and family when I get back to the states.

Riverside Walk in Bath (Because even I'm getting bored with all this text)

Thursday night, my friends and I got together to eat pizza and design our characters for our upcoming dnd game. It was an absolute blast, and I look forward to throwing my brand new tiefling bard into battle. That's all there really is to say about that.

Finally, on Friday, my peers and I went on a trip to the Cotswolds, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty near Bath. The first stop of the day was the Broadway Tower, the Cotswolds' highest castle. After downing a tasty glass of hot chocolate to brace myself against the chill, I climbed the steps to the top of the tower. It was insanely windy at the top, but the stunning view was worth it.

Hot Chocolate: The Best Weapon Against the Chill

Broadway Tower

Looking Out from the Peak of the Cotswolds

Once my friends and I had had our fill of the wind, we set off down the trail from the tower to the town of Broadway. Surprisingly, the public path took us straight through several muddy sheep pastures. I can't imagine an American sheep farmer letting strangers wander through his fields, but the practice is evidently quite common in England. In any case, my friends and I made it into Broadway muddy but mostly unscathed. We took a brief walk through the town, then caught the bus to Bourton-on-the-Water, a tiny town where I bought a delicious bacon and cheese pastie for lunch. My friends and I spent a while wandering around the canal that runs through the town, then boarded the bus to our last stop of the day: Chavenage House.

Bourton-on-the-Water

Chavenage House is an Elizabethan manor packed full of quirky history. During my visit there, I saw several rooms where the show Poldark was filmed, an authentic 17th century tapestry, a medieval fireplace with a secret compartment behind it, and a stuffed warthog. I even got to see the room where Oliver Cromwell stayed when he was traveling the country to gain support for beheading King Charles. I also learned that the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty is actually about a cannon that the Royalists accidentally broke during the English Civil War. My visit ended with cream tea, scones, and some playtime with the spaniels that live the manor--which, as you can probably guess, was an excellent experience. In fact, my entire day in the Cotswolds was an excellent experience, and I highly enjoyed it.

Chavenage House Front...

...And Back

So yeah, that about sums up my week. Stay tuned for more--assuming that my essays don't kill me!

Thanks for reading!

Abby

Artsy Picture of the Day: Henrietta Park (The Perfect Place to Read Harry Potter)

Week ???: Scotland is WILD

Hello Internet!
As you can probably tell, my posting schedule has been absolutely torn to shreds. That being said, now that I've recovered from the craziness of my midsemester break, I'm going to try and put it back together. In other words, in this post I'm going to recap my classes with a sentence each and then delve into the adventures I had over break. After that, I'll get back to business as usual. So, here goes nothing:

Gender Identities in Medieval Literature: The topics discussed in this class grow more bizarre and disturbing every week.

Fantasies of Youth: The Chronicles of Narnia get better every time I read them.

Writing for Children: Issue fiction is depressing and trying to write it is going to break me.

Advanced Creative Writing Tutorial: It's fascinating how tiny aspects of a story can end up being a huge deal.

Now for what (I'm assuming) you really want to hear about: my midsemester adventures. My midsemester break lasted a week and a half, and I spent most of it traveling solo through Scotland. It was the single craziest thing I've ever done, and I absolutely loved it.

On the first Friday of my break, I woke up bright and early and went to the Bristol airport, where I boarded my flight to Glasgow with nothing but a backpack and a purse. After the plane touched down in Glasgow an hour later, I promptly caught a bus to the city center, then was struck by a moment of sheer terror. Glasgow was huge and bustling, bigger than any UK city I'd been in before, and the city center was full of grim, intimidating-looking buildings. As a girl who's lived most of her life in the country, it was overwhelming.

Still, through Google Maps and a stroke of luck or two, I made it safely to my hostel. After taking an hour or two to orient myself, I decided to brave the world outside my hostel room and hopped on the subway to Kelvingrove Park. The park was much more my speed than the city center. It was huge and gorgeous, with statues, fountains, and little patches of wilderness around every corner. I spent about an hour wandering through the autumn foliage, then went to meet my friend Grace, who's spending the semester at the University of Glasgow. She gave me a quick tour around her stunning campus, then we grabbed burrito bowls at a nearby restaurant and swapped stories about studying abroad.

Kelvingrove Park

University of Glasgow

The next morning, I checked out of the hostel early so I could explore as much of Glasgow as possible. I took a meandering path through the city center that led me through George Square and eventually brought me to the Glasgow Cathedral. The cathedral was pretty and packed full of history, but the real sight to see was the Necropolis, which was behind the church. For those who haven't heard of it, the Necropolis is a massive graveyard that overlooks Glasgow. It was simultaneously eerie and fascinating, and the view from the top was incredible.

Glasgow from the Top of the Necropolis (Cathedral on the Right)

The Necropolis Itself

I got a little lost in the winding paths of the Necropolis, but I eventually made my way out and over to Provand's Lordship, Glasgow's oldest house. I spent some time exploring the historical exhibits and the small herb garden there, then headed back to the city center for lunch. After grabbing a quick bite to eat (and spotting a man wearing a kilt and playing the bagpipes!), I wandered down to Glasgow Green, Glasgow's biggest park. I spent some time lounging there and regaining my energy, then visited the People's Palace, where I learned about Glasgow's industrial history. Finally, exhausted but stuffed to the brim with new knowledge, I headed to the train station and caught a train to an Edinburgh.

Provand's Lordship: The Oldest House in Glasgow

Glasgow Green

Now, as you've probably gathered if you've read my older posts, I love England, and I have since the day I arrived. That being said, I fell deeply in love with Edinburgh within my first ten minutes there. As I made my way from the Edinburgh train station to my hostel, I saw no fewer than three bagpipe players. Furthermore, my hostel was right under the shadow of the Edinburgh Castle and was probably the quirkiest, coolest place I've ever stayed during a trip. I mean, there were two fully-armored mannequins in the lobby. What more can you ask for?

Guards of the Castle Rock Hostel

I turned in early my first night in Edinburgh, but I woke up before most businesses were open the next day and decided to go for a walk. I made my way down the Royal Mile and ended up at Holyrood Park, where I spotted this beautiful Scottish hill:

Now, I thought that this was Arthur's Seat, the highest point in Edinburgh. I'd been meaning to climb Arthur's Seat later in the week, when I was less worn-out. But I decided that since it was right in front of me and didn't seem so bad, I might as well climb it and check it off my bucket list. So I set off cheerfully along the trail. However, I very quickly realized that that little hill was not Arthur's Seat. That was Salisbury Craigs. This is Arthur's Seat:

After that horrifying realization, I concluded that I had two options: admit defeat and come back later, or grit my teeth and climb that confounded mountain. I've never been a quitter, so after much sweating and swearing under my breath, I made it to the top of Arthur's Seat. Fortunately, the view was worth it.

Looking Out Onto Edinburgh

I spent the rest of my Sunday recuperating in the hostel, triumphant but utterly exhausted. On Monday, though, I had a fantastic adventure. A few weeks before coming to Edinburgh, I'd determined that I wanted to see a real loch while in Scotland, and had booked a tour in advance. So, at 9am on Monday morning, I boarded a minibus and headed out into the Scottish countryside.

Our first stop was the Kelpies, aka the biggest horse statues in the world. Standing underneath the muzzles of those gorgeous behemoths made me feel like an ant or a beetle. After that slightly unnerving experience, we headed out to Scotland's biggest loch, Loch Lomond (pronounced, interestingly enough, as low-mund). This loch rests right over the geographic fault that divides the Scottish lowlands from the Scottish highlands, so I got to experience some truly beautiful views. I also got a taste of the Scottish highland weather, as the area around the loch was extremely cold!

The Kelpies

Loch Lomond

When we'd had our fill of the loch, my tour group and I went to the nearby village of Aberfoyle for lunch. Me being me, I devoured my lunch as quickly as possible and set off for a solitary wander through the village. I soon found myself in woods on the outskirts of the village--which, according to legend, is infested with fairies. I didn't see any fairies on my brief walk, but there was a hint of magic in the air, and I held my breath the entire time.

Into the Woods of Aberfoyle

All too soon, I had to leave the solemn quiet of the Scottish woods and return to my tour group. That being said, I couldn't complain, because our next stop was Doune Castle, where Monty Python and the Holy Grail was filmed. We couldn't go inside, but that didn't stop me from fangirling. Once we'd all gotten our pictures taken in front of the castle, we headed off to the final stop of the day: Stirling Castle. This was the first full-scale castle I've ever been in, and it was a jaw-dropping experience. I grinned like a kid in the candy store as I strode through the cobblestone streets, explored the great hall, and searched for the site of the Battle of Bannock Burn from the Ladies' Lookout.

Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!

Sterling Castle

While Sterling Castle offered some truly impressive views of the countryside, Edinburgh Castle, which I visited Tuesday morning, was made impressive by the sheer amount of history it held. During my time there, I got to see the Crown Jewels of Scotland and the Destiny Stone on which dozens of Scottish kings were crowned. I visited the room where King James VI was born, a great hall filled with authentic weapons, and the Half-Moon Battery over the ruins of David's Tower. Then, because I couldn't resist, I nipped down to a store on the Royal Mile and bought myself a kilt.

Edinburgh Castle

I spent my Tuesday afternoon roaming aimlessly around the streets of Edinburgh. I checked out the Museum of Childhood, where I saw some very creepy dolls, and the Museum of Edinburgh, where I learned more about the history of "Auld Reekie." I took a stroll through Prince's Street Gardens, saw the church where Agatha Christie got married, and made it back to the hostel in time to watch How to Train Your Dragon in the cinema room (for the record, there is something very surreal about watching your favorite movie while being 3,000 miles from home and within spitting distance of a castle). To round out the night, I went on the Haunted Tour of Edinburgh. Did you know that in the olden days, the residents of Edinburgh dumped their sewage in a nearby lake, and the methane buildup caused them to hallucinate fairies? Because I didn't, not until an Australian tour guide in a kilt told me.

Fountain in Prince's Street Gardens

On Wednesday, my last full day in Edinburgh, I visited the Writers Museum and learned about three Scottish authors/poets: Robert Louis Stevenson, Robert Burns, and Sir Walter Scott. Then, I visited the National Museum of Scotland, where I learned about..all sorts of things, really. For me, the highlight of that particular stop was seeing an authentic 14th-century great helm. From the museum, I trekked past the Elephant House restaurant, otherwise known as the Birthplace of Harry Potter. It was too crowded for me to go in, but it was neat to see the origin place of the series that revolutionized children's literature.

National Museum of Scotland

Finally, for the grand finale of my stay in Scotland, I decided I wanted to hike to Portobello Beach and see the ocean. I got about halfway there before I realized that while my brain was up to the task, my weary feet most certainly were not. My journey wasn't a total wash, though. My wandering had taken me to the far side of Holyrood Park, and after a bit of exploring, I found a muddy little path that led me along the edge of Duddingston Loch. I spent some time there, struck half-dumb by the gorgeousness of the wild scenery so close to a bustling city. Even though I never made it to the beach, when I finally headed back to the hostel, I found that I couldn't regret a single minute of my day.

Duddingston Loch

The next morning, I caught a train from Edinburgh to London, then a bus from London to Bath. That was an adventure in and of itself, but that's a story for another time. I spent most of Friday and Saturday doing laundry and generally recuperating from my travels. Then, on Saturday evening, I hopped in a car with my friends from the Bath Spa Reenactment Group and headed to the reenactment of the Battle of Edgehill.

I know I've said this about a lot of my mishaps, but this truly was the most insane adventure I've had while abroad. For starters, the lovely English weather decided to fulfill its stereotype of being rainy and cold, and the drive to the battle site was fraught with flooded roads. Unfortunately, the site was also flooded when we arrived, so the reenactment of the actual battle had to be canceled. Still, reenactors are nothing if not resilient, and my friends and I were determined to have a good time. So they lent me some 17th-century clothing, we got geared up, and we headed out for meat pies and several hours of relaxing, friendly conversation at the local pub.

I was pretty worn out, so at 11pm, I said goodnight to my friends and headed back to the scout hut--the hall where we were staying for the night. After changing into my pajamas and putting my temporary kit somewhere safe, I crashed on a borrowed mattress for the night. Then, at around 2am, I was jolted awake by the sound of a thunderous crash. Now, in retrospect, I probably should've been concerned about this. But at the time, I was exhausted, confused, and disoriented. So I simply shrugged, thought "eh, not my problem," and promptly went back to sleep.

The next morning, I did some asking around and found out what had happened: upon returning from the pub, one of the men in the group had challenged another to a "pike push," which is basically a shoving contest. A third man, knowing that one of the pushers had a bad back and the other was a veritable tank, had jumped in to try and even things out. In the end, all three of them had gone hurtling straight through a closet door, with two of them crashing painfully onto a table. As I ate my breakfast and got dressed in my kit, I couldn't help but feel relieved that I'd gone to bed early!

Once our regiment was, for the most part, dressed and ready, we set off to participate in a memorial parade for those who died in the real Battle of Edgehill. Which, I found out on the drive there, was to take place in a UK military base. As American who was carrying a bunch of diabetes supplies but no passport (nobody had told me to bring it!), this understandably made me extremely anxious. Thankfully, however, everything went off without a hitch. My friends armed me with a pike and stuck me in the middle of the group, and we paraded to the center of the base, where we witnessed a lovely little memorial service. Then, with much saluting and shifting of pikes, we marched back out to the parking lot, where I could finally take a breath of relief.

Me in 17th Century Kit--Before They Told Me About the Military Base!

So yeah. On my midsemester break, I backpacked across a country, visited three castles, and carried a pike through a UK military base. It was absurd and chaotic and wonderful, and I don't think I'll ever have another experience quite like it. In conclusion, God bless Scotland.

Thanks for reading!

Abby

Artsy Picture of the Day: The River Clyde in Glasgow

Everett Royale and the Moonstruck Circle

Hello Internet!

As promised, here is an excerpt from one of my stories for Writing for Children. I hope you enjoy it!

The forest was singing again, and Everett Royale couldn’t sleep.

This, unfortunately, was nothing new. The forest behind the Royale’s house had sung on every full moon night for as long as Everett could remember. He still had no idea what caused it. It couldn’t be the birds--birds sang in the morning, not under the midnight stars. It couldn’t be people, because Everett’s family were the only ones who lived close to the woods, and they were all in bed. Obviously, it couldn’t be the trees themselves.  And no matter what Everett’s parents insisted, it wasn’t the cicadas. His parents couldn’t hear the singing, couldn’t recognize the lilting melodies that were obviously not caused by bugs. But Everett could.

He was bundled up in his blankets, listening to these melodies and staring out his window at the gleaming moon, when an idea struck him: he should go investigate. He was old enough now, after all. He had finally turned 12 last week, and his parents had told him that they were fine with him being out after dark. Granted, by “after dark” they probably didn’t mean at midnight, but they’d never specifically said he couldn’t go out that late.

That was a loophole, and Everett loved loopholes. So, a small grin on his face, he rolled out of bed and slipped on his shoes.

After a few minutes of awkward shuffling in the dark, he found his favorite sweatshirt and pulled it on over his pajamas. He snagged his flashlight off his cluttered desk and slipped it into his pocket. His night vision wasn’t terrible, but he’d much rather be safe than sorry. His mom and dad had always impressed on him the importance of being prepared.

Very slowly, Everett opened his door. He edged past his parents’ closed bedroom door and snuck down the stairs, careful to skip the squeaky step in the middle. He tiptoed across the living room, opened the front door, and stepped out into the crisp night air.

The sky was dark and bottomless, and the scent of something wild was in the air. The song had grown slightly louder, its melodies full and ferocious. Everett’s heart pounded double-time as he took a deep breath. His excitement rose in his throat, almost choking him, until he couldn’t stay still anymore. He leaped off the front step and ran.

The wet grass trailed against Everett’s ankles as he raced around the back of the house. As he approached the border of the woods, the music grew louder and louder, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. A low drumbeat that Everett had never heard before had joined the melody. It was ominous and slightly unsettling, and as Everett drew closer to the tree line, he slowed from a run, to a walk, to a halt. If anyone had asked him, he would’ve insisted he wasn’t scared. He was just…planning. Deciding the best way to attack the problem at hand. And he was definitely shivering from the crisp night air, nothing else.

After a moment, Everett headed for the trail on the far corner of the woods. He didn’t particularly want to use his flashlight and risk scaring off the source of the song, but he also didn’t want to trip over a branch or get stuck in a bramble bush.

He set off along the trail at a brisk walk. Tree branches loomed over his head, blocking out almost all the moonlight. The song had sounded loud from his lawn, but now it was almost overwhelming. The melody practically made the trees sway, the drumbeat hummed in his bones, and a shrill counter-melody made him want to cover his ears.

The music seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Still, Everett had set out on a mission, and he was determined to find the song’s source. He edged along the trail, listening hard and staring intently into the dark woods.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the shadow until it was right on top of him.

Without warning, Everett was knocked clear off his feet. He rolled off the path, tumbled down a small incline, and landed in a patch of prickers. A dark form was on him a heartbeat later. Before he could even think to move, his arms were pinned and his mouth was covered.

He thrashed and screamed, but his shouts were muffled by flesh and his kicks didn’t land. The song was sickeningly loud now, like it was trying to explode his eardrums.

“Stop, stop, will you please just stop!” the person pinning Everett down hissed. To Everett’s surprise, it sounded like a girl, and her voice cut clearly through the clamoring music. “Stop fighting or they’re going to find us!”

His confusion overcoming his fear, Everett froze. “Who’s going to find us?” he asked. Or tried to ask. It was pretty much impossible to speak with the girl’s arm pressed into his mouth.

She ignored him, instead shifting her grip on his wrists. From what Everett could tell, she seemed to be trying to glance over her shoulder.

The next thing he knew, the girl was hauling him to his feet and shoving him back towards the trail. “Hide me,” she mumbled frantically. “Hide me, get me out of here, please.”

Everett found that he had had quite enough. He planted his feet, turned, pulled his flashlight out of his pocket, and shone it at the girl’s face. “Who are you?” he blurted.

She ducked out of the light before Everett could catch more than a glimpse of brown hair and wide, scared eyes. “I can’t give you my name,” she hissed. “Now turn that off and get us out of here. If you don’t, the Hunt will catch us, and we’ll be dead.”

At the word “dead,” Everett’s thumb jerked against the flashlight button and the light blinked out. Still, he didn’t move. “What hunt?” he asked. “Why should I believe you? Look, this is my family’s woods. What are you doing here?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a chilling howl split the air. For the second time that night, Everett froze. Around them, the music faltered for half a second, then resumed at a frantic pace.

Then the girl clutched his arm so hard it hurt. “Please,” she whispered, so close that her breath billowed over his face.  “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll give you my name, whatever you want. Just please, please, please get me out of this woods.”

There was real terror in her voice. Without another word, Everett grabbed her hand and ran.

They tore up the incline and onto the trail, Everett moving as fast as his feet would let him. The girl kept pace with him, tugging him forward when he slowed for even a moment. The music swelled around them, a bubble of sound, pushing them from all sides.

Then, three things happened simultaneously. Everett burst out of the woods. The music dropped drastically in volume, And the girl’s hand was torn out of his grip.

When Everett whirled around to see what had happened, the girl was hovering right at the edge of the tree line. She took a step forward, then winced and hopped back.

“What are you doing?” Everett hissed, thoroughly confused. “You want to get out of the woods? Then come on!”

“I can’t” the girl nearly wailed. She looked frantically over her shoulder, then back at Everett “You have to give me permission first. You have to say ‘I, your name, give you permission to leave the Moonstruck grounds.”

“Fine! I, your name, give you permission to leave the…the Moonstruck grounds!”

“No,” the girl spat at Everett. “You have to say your actual name, idiot! And whisper it, for the love of stardust!”

Baffled, terrified, and just a touch angry, Everett stormed over to the end of the trail. He reached out to the girl and she clasped his hand. Very, very quietly, he mumbled “I, Everett Royale, give you permission to leave the Moonstruck grounds.” Then, in one swift motion, he yanked the girl out of the forest.

As she stepped onto the lawn, the girl let out a huge, gasping sigh. “Thank you,” she said, letting go of Everett’s hand and dropping shakily to her knees. “Thank you. I…I cannot thank you enough.”

Everett shuffled awkwardly and glanced away. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s go to the barn. We’ll be able to talk there, and you can tell me who you are and what you were doing in my woods.”

The girl climbed to her feet but, to Everett’s surprise, shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. Now that her fear was evidently gone, her voice was cool and confident. “Just wait a moment.”

Everett was feeling very fed up at this point, and he had just made up his mind to go wake his parents when the forest stopped singing. He stared at the dark trees, dumbfounded. That didn’t make any sense-- the song always continued until the break of dawn. Always. But the music had completely vanished, leaving only cricket chirps in its place.

“Wha..?” Everett started to ask.

“Shh,” the girl cut him off.

Then there was movement at the edge of the forest. As Everett and the girl watched from a few feet away, a dozen men and women emerged from the undergrowth, stopping just where the tree line met the lawn. They looked like humans, but they were tall and impossibly thin. In the bright moonlight, it was easy to see that most of them were carrying strange instruments: long, curled horns, elaborate flutes, and even a giant drum. With a burst of astonishment, Everett realized that they must’ve been the source of the music.

But even more shocking was the fact that every last one of them had wings.

Before Everett could even think about what that might mean, one of the men called out. He was the tallest of the group and was clad entirely in dark robes. He didn’t carry an instrument, and his wings shimmered an iridescent green behind him.

“Hostia Yew,” the man was glaring at the girl next to Everett. “You have disgraced yourself and your family. What is more, you have broken every rule of the sacred Full Moon Hunt. You will return to the Moonstruck grounds at once.”

The girl, Hostia, spat in the man’s direction. “I have left the grounds fairly, with permission from one who is qualified to give it. My wings are free, and my path is my own. I’m not your captive anymore, Venandi. You and your Hunt can go take a swim in the sun.”

Then, as Everett watched in stunned silence, wings unfurled from Hostia’s back. They were ethereal and brilliantly blue, and Hostia flapped them twice with solemn purpose. It seemed like she was daring Venandi to come and get her, but the man didn’t move. Instead, he turned his sneer on Everett.

“So, young master, you’ve captured yourself a fairy. Well done. But, in case you haven’t noticed, she already belongs to someone else. Bring her to the Moonstruck Circle within three days, or I will claim my rights and start a war that the human race is not prepared for.” Venandi flared his poison-green wings once, then stepped back, melting into the shadows. His entourage disappeared with him, leaving Everett and Hostia alone under the full moon.

Very slowly, Everett turned to Hostia. She was staring into the silent woods, her luminescent wings lighting her face just enough to show Everett that she was scowling. “What…what just happened?” he asked softly.

“We were given an ultimatum,” she snapped, not looking at him. “Three days. Three days to kill Venandi and save the world or die trying.”

“Kill him!” Everett yelped. “We can’t…why would we kill him?!”

Hostia turned on him then, looking positively enraged. She started to speak, then abruptly froze, her expression shifting from anger to surprise. Quickly, she raised her left hand and snapped once.

Thunk. Everett whirled to see a window opening on the second floor of the house. It was the one attached to his parent’s bedroom. “We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re so dead,” he whispered. He just had time to shut his eyes before a flashlight beam was dancing across his face.

But to Everett’s complete and utter astonishment, no alarm was raised. Very cautiously, he cracked one eye open. From up in the window, his parent—from this angle, he couldn’t tell if it was his mom or dad—turned the flashlight, sending its beam out across the lawn. The light swept over the trees, flashed against Hostia’s wings, and landed on Everett once more before disappearing.  A few seconds later, another quiet thunk signaled that the window had been shut.

“Wha…what?” Everett spluttered. He didn’t understand. Why hadn’t his parents yelled at him? Were they really ok with him being out at midnight? Even with a girl with wings? “What just happened?”

“Magic,” Hostia answered. She was looming next to him, her arms crossed and her wings fluttering triumphantly. “A short-term shadow spell. My first, actually, so it won’t last too long. We should get to cover.”

“Did…did you…did you just make us invisible?”

Hostia rolled her eyes at him. “Of course not, don’t be stupid. I just covered us with shadows, made us very difficult to see. Now come on, we need to come up with a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yes, to kill Venandi. Let’s go. We don’t have much time, remember?”

Everett could practically feel his brain short-circuiting. None of it made any sense at all, and he was starting to wish that he’d never left his bed. Still, he supposed he did owe Hostia for saving him from the potential scolding of a lifetime. And she definitely owed him an explanation. So he shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it, then led the way to his family’s barn.

Everett’s parents had never given in to his pleas for a pet cow, so the barn was empty except for a couple of haybales under the back window. Everett flopped down heavily on one of the bales and Hostia sat across from him.

“So,” Hostia began. She was perched very primly on her bale, her wings shifting back and forth to help her balance. The bright moonlight shining through the window made her face look eerily pale. “I think we should try to contact with my family first. My dad might have some ideas, he’s always talking about a revolution. And we’ll need all the help we can get out here, of course, Venandi won’t…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Everett interjected. “Hold on.  Who are you?”

Hostia sighed impatiently. “Well, since Venandi already gave you my name, I guess there’s no harm in repeating it. I’m Hostia Yew, of the Faded Caste.” She bowed at the waist, spreading her arms with a flourish.

“Ok.” Everett said, even though that answer hadn’t told him much at all. “And, um…why do you have wings?”

Hostia straightened and wrinkled her nose at him. “Didn’t you hear Venandi? I’m a fairy, stupid. Now, can I have your name? I gave you mine, and besides, if we’re going to save the world together, I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘Scrawny Blond Boy.” It’s confusing and weird.”

At the word “fairy,” a dozen half-remembered bedtime stories tumbled into Everett’s mind. He recalled very little from the fairy tales his mother had read him as a child, but one point had stuck through the years: never give the fae your name.

Everett quickly shook his head. “You can’t have my name, it’s mine,” he blurted.

Hostia frowned at him. “Ok, maybe you aren’t quite as stupid as I thought. Fine. But what can I call you, then?”

“Battle,” he said after a moment. He wasn’t sure why his goofy childhood nickname was the first idea that popped into his head, but it was as good as anything. “You can call me Battle.”

“Battle,” Hostia echoed. “Alright. So, Battle, any more questions? Or can we get back to figuring out how we’re going to kill the most powerful fairy I know in only three days?”

Everett had lots more questions. So many, in fact, that he felt like his brain might explode if he didn’t ask them. But oddly enough, his mouth refused to open. He had just enough time to realize that his body wasn’t obeying him before shadows swarmed over his vision, drowning him in darkness. He heard a mumbled “oh that’s not good” from Hostia, and then he was falling, falling, falling…

Week Seven: How to Immortalize Your Writer

Hello Internet!
Before I get things started, I have a quick announcement. My week-long mid-semester break starts on Friday, and I plan to spend the majority of it traveling around the UK. As a result, I almost definitely will not be able to post next week. However, I'll be back to my normal posting schedule the week after, and I plan to post an excerpt from one of my stories tomorrow. Sound good? Awesome. In that case, on to the class updates!

Gender Identities in Medieval Literature: This week, we discussed homosexuality in the middle ages. I can't really examine our discussion in detail because it involved some potentially disturbing subject matter and I'm pretty sure my younger siblings read this blog. However, I can say that it was intriguing to learn where, when, and why homosexuality was condemned during medieval times (hint: it had a lot to do with both the church and Aristotle).

Fantasies of Youth: For this class, I dug way, way back into my childhood and read The Borrowers by Mary Norton. This book inspired a lot of my games as a kid, so you can imagine my surprise when I discovered it's essentially an allegory for WWII. You learn something new every day.

Writing for Children: My classmates and I talked about Sky Hawk by Gill Lewis, which is the first book I've read for this class that I didn't like. It was realistic fiction, which I already like a good deal less than fantasy, and the narrative felt extremely disjointed. It was almost as if Lewis was trying to tell two unconnected stories in the same book. There were a lot of time skips and instances of the author telling readers things that, in my opinion, she should have shown us. Anyways, my classmates and I were also given some time to write, during which I worked up a short story heavily based on the times I've gone go-karting with my brother. So that was fun.

Advanced Creative Writing Tutorial: Honestly, this session consisted of a whole bunch of tangents. My tutor and I talked about everything from a poetry course I took once upon a time to the possibility of crafting a healthy relationship between two fictional characters. We also analyzed my writing a bit more, and I found out that I totally overcorrected from the last session (i.e., I cut descriptions that I needed to include). My lesson for the week: describe settings more and character's actions less.

Outside of my classes, my week was relatively slow. On Wednesday, I met with the Bath Spa Reenactment Group for a second time and sealed my fate. (I also learned that the group's official name is the Tilliers Regiment of the Sealed Knot, so yeah, that last sentence was a pun). In other words, I signed the paperwork to attend the group's next reenactment, the Battle of Edgehill, which will take place on October 26th-27th. I"m really, really looking forward to it!

After my meeting with the Regiment of the Sealed Knot, I booked it to my second session of Jane Austen dancing. At this session, I learned the official footwork for the dances, so I (hopefully) looked like less of a clumsy giraffe than I did the first time around. In short, I genuinely had a blast.

The Dance Hall

The real highlight of the week was on Friday, when I had my Fantasies of Youth class trip. The first stop of the day was C.S. Lewis's house, also known as the Kilns. We got to see the library with the original sign from the Eagle and Child; a replication of the wardrobe that inspired The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe; and even Lewis's bedroom. The best part of the tour was when we took a peek at the pond where Lewis and his brother used to swim. As my classmates and I huddled under the trees along the bank, a crane touched down across from us. I half expected it to start talking; it felt like we'd stepped into Narnia. I can't help but suspect that Lewis himself wrote the Kilns into existence; it was straight out of a fantasy writer's dream. 

The Kilns

Replica of Lewis's Writing Desk

After the tour of the Kilns, we visited the church where Lewis is buried. The church itself had a gorgeous Narnia-themed window, but that paled in comparison to C.S. Lewis's grave. The gravesite itself was simple, really, but it stunned me into silence. It was strange knowing the body of a man who had touched so many lives, including my own, was right in front of me. The best way I can describe the emotion I experienced in that graveyard is awe mixed with the certainty that all things come to pass just as they should.

Narnia Church Window

C.S. Lewis's Grave

Thankfully, the mood lightened at our next stop: Great Missenden, home of Roald Dahl. We took a quick tour around the town, spotting landmarks such as the library from Matilda and the orphanage from the BFG. We also visited Dahl's grave, which was slightly less solemn than Lewis's. There were BFG footprints nearby as well as a glass jar full of notes that Dahl's fans had written. It was fascinating to see the differences in the ways the two authors had been paid homage to.

Matilda's Library

Roald Dahl's Grave

The BFG Must Be Nearby!

Our last stop of the day was the Roald Dahl museum. After having some delicious Bogtrotter cake, we toured the museum and learned more about Dahl's life. We even got to check out a reconstruction of Dahl's writing hut, which housed, among other things, his specially-designed writing chair and the top part of his thigh bone. (Side note: I have decided that I need my own writing hut). Finally, my classmates and I were brought to the museum's archives. There, we saw the coat that Johnny Depp wore in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, as well as the handwritten first drafts of James and the Giant Peach and Matilda. All in all, it was an experience that I'm sure will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Bogtrotter Cake

Dahl's Writing Hut

Long story short, if I'm ever immortalized as a writer, I hope I get as cool a treatment as Dahl and Lewis did. I doubt it'll ever happen, but hey, it's nice to dream. To conclude: "FOR NARNIA, AND FOR ASLAN!!!"

Thanks for reading!

Abby

Artsy Picture of the Day: The Pond Near The Kilns