Wow, I'm not usually a faerie kind of reader, but I enjoyed Ballad immensely. Maggie Stiefvater imbued her mythical creatures with so much depth. One of the reasons I don't often enjoy woodland characters is they seem to have no real personality, but in Ballad, the creatures are so lifelike and rich with traits I could suspend disbelief and enjoy them. The author did a seamless job of weaving make-believe and the real world into a story that blurred the boundaries between the two and blended them into a single story of... naw, that would be too revealing. Suffice it to say, this book has a wide range of emotional appeal, intimate but not offensive, violent but not gross, and tender in a "I'll rip off your face if you tell anyone about my soft side" kind of way.
On a personal writing note, it has been a great week. Almost half-way through what I hope will be a final (?) edit and rewrite of my first YA novel, Almost Human, Revelation.
My garden is flourishing now that I have dissuaded the varmints who had been ravaging it to stay away. I have already harvested spinach, strawberries, and turnip greens. I had to transplant one of my artichoke plants. Apparently I had the audacity to plant it on top of a gopher/mole superhighway and they managed to construct enough holes under it that the roots were hanging in mid air. I went out on Sunday and the plant was wilted. The one next to it looks great. So I moved the wilted one a few feet to the west. On a side street that hopefully the burrowers won't develop anytime soon.
We are awaiting the arrival of baby hawks from the couple who have made a nest in our 25 year old cottonwood. We're hoping this year the babies stay in the nest until they at least have feathers.
