Booked for October

October is the perfect month for curling up with a good book. Pick something scary, pick something romantic, pick a biography or a beach read to remember the golden days of summer, just pick something and get lost in it. Books are the best portals of magic I know next to music, and wordsmithery makes me weak at the knees.

Every year I look forward to picking out my new books. Some are clearly for the summer, some can fit in wherever I need them to and some are for October reading only. I read about scary spaces and things that go bump in the night, murder mysteries and about beasties that defy classification. I eagerly picked this year’s October books and as a surprise to no one, I have more titles selected than I have time to read. But I will very much enjoy the challenge.

So many good books are being released in October it is like Christmas has come early, a weekly literary treat just for me. But there will always and forever only be one grand literary passion in my October days. Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Before there were movies about it, there was the book. Before the book there was a town, and before the town were campfire stories on dark and stormy nights. Was there really a Headless Horseman or a stork like school master named Ichabod? Did Katrina Van Tassel really marry Brom Bones? I don’t care. It is a good yarn to pass the fading fall light with.

There is always a special day when I KNOW, today is the day that I need to read the story. Sometimes I read it aloud and taste the words on my tongue sweet as sugar. Sometimes I read to another person, sometimes I read it quietly to myself. After I am done, I always have a hankering to move to New England and become a farmer. But then I remember that I am about as rural as Eva Gabor in Green Acres and New England winters are nothing to sneeze at. But with the power of a slim leather bound volume I can be transported there and walk amongst the superstitious towns folk and see life through their eyes. I can’t wait to pull it out and peruse its well-worn pages for another year. Today is not that day, but I can feel it coming. What are your favorite fall books, or do you have one in mind already?

Day 21: Plans Change for the Better

I had really grand plans for yesterday. I was going to get stuff Done, yes with a capital d. I had lists and everything. Funny I know. I was a productive person right up until noon when I had pumpkin waffles for lunch. Those waffles must have had some weird soporific effect on me because for the rest of the day I curled up with a blanket and the puppy and read October books. Not one, not even two, but four and I am halfway through my fifth. I only paused long enough to eat dinner. Ok, I didn't pause so much as carry it back to my room and continue reading while I ate (it was monster cereal by the way). But it was so worth it. I read outside in the weak sunshine. I read in the garage amidst my holiday decor. I read in the living room, spare room and my room. I read on the floor, on couches, on concrete, on a chair and on my feet, and you know what, it was wonderful.

October is like that. I can plan my day one way and have it take an unexpected turn and love the new plan even better. I have oodles of stuff on my plate for today, but something tells me I will be staying up to finish my newest book. After all, that's why God made pumpkin spice lattes. He made it expressly for people who stay up all night reading.

So thank you October for such a beautiful day. It was peaceful and unexpected and wonderful. Just like my favorite month.

October Thought Day 22: Days Gone By, Give It a Try

Since I seem to be feeling so nostalgic this week, I thought it was time for another classic post, this one about Washington Irving’s Sleepy Hollow. I was stuck in bed all day and had cabin fever something fierce. Since I couldn’t get out, I decided to go in. I put my old VHS tape in and relaxed to the soothing dulcet tones of Bing Crosby. He isn’t just for Christmas you know. Bing took me over hill and dale all the way back to fall in New England in the 1790’s.

Not having lived in New England I tend to have a very romanticized idea of it in my head. To me it is a magical land that is always viewed in dreamy sepia tones. It is always fall there and gentlemen still wear top hats. I know it isn’t like that in real life, but I like to pretend. I once spent a wonderful week in Virginia and the thing about the Eastern seaboard is this, the land is drenched in history, you can feel it. You get the same feeling when you travel to places like Rome, Greece or Paris. The very ground you stand upon is saturated with stories and memories of bygone times. If you sit still and listen you can hear it whispering its secrets. I know I felt that in Virginia.

I like the old stories and the idea of people sitting around the fireside telling tales, not necessarily scary. Electricity wasn’t even a glint in Edison, Franklin or Tesla’s eye and people had to rely on the sun and candles to light the way. It made everyone gather in rather than drift apart. You shared news and told stories, which with that entire unknown world out there beyond the trees; of course superstition would play a role. The unexplainable had to have some sort of explanation after all; otherwise life was too weird and disconcerting. Someone disappeared, ghosts did it. Crops failed, someone forgot to throw three seeds over their shoulder and spit. Lame horse, it was probably pixies. There was an order to things that superstition and stories provided. We may laugh at it but we do the same thing.

I love the tale of the headless horseman, I see him as the only sympathetic figure in the whole tale. He was a Hessian trooper in the revolutionary war who had the misfortune to lose his head. Now I don’t know about you, but if I lost my head and was doomed to come back to haunt the town I’m pretty sure my sole pursuit would be to find the silly thing. I love that he carves a pumpkin for a replacement head and I love that a covered bridge is his barrier. It’s like he is picking all my favorite October things.

Speaking of favorite things, I also love the descriptive language that Irving uses in his story. I wish more people wrote like that. “If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.” “A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere.” Now tell me you don’t want to go there. 
 
I like that in the story none of the characters except for the horseman are likeable, or at least that’s how I read it. The only one I feel sorry for is the poor scared horse Ichabod rides. Brom Bones is a stuck up pompous jerk who thinks he is god’s gift to women. Katrina Van Tassel is a shameless flirt who uses the affections of the schoolmaster to make Brom jealous because she wants to play hard to get. Ichabod is a lazy opportunist who only wants to marry Katrina for her money. See what I mean. They all have it coming if you ask me. 
 
At the end of the story you are left to wonder, was it really Brom who chased Ichabod that night or was there really a horseman after all? Did Ichabod really succumb to the horseman, or did he in fact move out of town and settle down somewhere else? Did Katrina and Brom live happily ever after or did Brom end up cheating on her in the end because he got bored with a farmer’s daughter? If Ichabod did survive, did he ever tell the story to others or did he keep it quiet out of shame and embarrassment? There are so many questions left unanswered for such a simple story, which may also be why I like it. The reader gets to fill in the blanks.

The closest we get to scary stories now-a-days are urban legends, but even they aren’t told that much. Perhaps the closest we come are the form letters we get over email and social media. Pass this on to five friends in the next ten minutes and you will get your wildest dream fulfilled. Maybe media is how we experience stories now. Instead of gathering round the fire we all file into the multiplex and have a story told to us. Maybe Star Wars is our shared fireside tale and Marvel superheroes are our version of Greek gods.

Interesting times we live in. If you haven’t already read Mr. Irving’s tale, I encourage you to do so. It is short but beautiful. Listen to it on tape if you really don’t want to read. If you absolutely have to watch the movie instead, make it the Disney version, not Tim Burton. Nothing against Mr. Burton, he is one of my Halloween heroes, but for this tale, Disney runs closer to Washington Irving’s vision. It is a wonderful read on a dark and stormy night. Watch it with the lights off, read it by candlelight and listen closely for the sound of hoof beats on the wind. The headless horseman is coming; he is searching for a head. Maybe, just maybe he might take yours.

October Thoughts Day 21: Lost in Books

I had really grand plans for today. I was going to get stuff done. I had lists and everything. Funny I know. I was a productive person right up until noon when I had pumpkin waffles for lunch. Those waffles must have had some weird effect on me because for the rest of the day I curled up with a blanket and the puppy and read October books. Not one, not even two, but four and I am halfway through my fifth. I only paused long enough to eat dinner. Ok, I didn't pause so much as carry it back to my room and continue reading while I ate. But it was so worth it. I read outside in the weak sunshine and gentle breeze. I read in the garage. I read in the livingroom, bonus room and my room. I read on the floor, on couches, on concrete, on a chair and on my feet, and you know what, it was wonderful.

October is like that. I can plan my day one way and have it take an unexpected turn and love the new plan even better. I have oodles of stuff on my plate for tomorrow, but something tells me I will be staying up to finish my newest book. After all, that's why God made coffee. He made it expressly for people who stay up all night reading.

So thank you October for such a beatiful day. It was peaceful and unexpected and wonderful. Just like my favorite month.