Living alone,’ November whispered, ‘is a skill, like running long distance or programming old computers. You have to know parameters, protocols. You have to learn them so well that they become like a language: to have music always so that the silence doesn’t overwhelm you, to perform your work exquisitely well so that your time is filled. You have to allow yourself to open up until you are the exact size of the place you live, no more or else you get restless. No less, or else you drown. There are rules; there are ways of being and not being.
The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two (Fairyland, #3) by Catherynne M. Valente is easily my most anticipated book of 2013.
I need to track down a hardcover copy of the first one. When I bought it, the store only had paperbacks, and while I’m not usually picky about things like that, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making was a kind of life-changing book, and I’d like to have a sturdier copy.
SO READY FOR THIS.
When I loaned out my paperback of The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland and it never returned, I opted to replace it with a hardcover copy. The whole set of hardcovers is going to be lovely.
But old women faced certain dangers in Fairyland, such as breaking a hip while riding a wild velocipede, or having everyone do what you say just because you had wrinkles. That at least would not be so bad — perhaps September could be a fabulous withered old witch and learn to cackle. She could get quite good at that.
Did everything that had magic have teeth? She had liked the world better when it served up sweet-looking birds and sweet-looking men.