Words of the Month - Vocabulary Tests

         With my children graduated from college last spring, this has been the first year in my entire life that has not been explicitly tied to the academic calendar, and I’m feeling slightly unmoored!  Still, the broader culture is certainly sufficiently affected by the academic calendar that I’m not in any danger of forgetting.  So in honor of all those students who still have a few weeks left in their school year, and are probably thinking about all their final projects and exams, here are a few Words of the Month.

project - Originally a “plan or scheme,” project entered English around 1400 from Medieval Latin meaning “something thrown forth.”  You can see how the sense could shift to “an undertaking.”  Interestingly, in the verb form (which came after the noun), the sense of “to plan, scheme” came before the various physical meanings “to shoot forth,” “to protrude,” “to cast an image on a screen,” etc.

test - In the late 14th century a test was a small vessel used in ascertaining the content or quality of metals.  The name of the vessel is ultimately from “shell.”  By the 16th century it could mean the “trial of the correctness or quality of something” more broadly, by the 18th century it could mean the “means of examining something,” but not until the very early 20th century did it gain its specifically academic sense.  (In general, the verb versions of these meanings followed behind the noun, often by about a century.)

exam - This is a mid-19th century slang shortening of examination.  In this case, the verb was first, appearing around 1300, from Latin meaning “to weigh,” and thus “to ponder, consider, and judge.”  The sense of “a test of knowledge” (as opposed to “a judicial inquiry”) dates to the early 17th century.

quiz - Since this began as slang, its origins are a little murky.  The meaning “a brief oral examination by a teacher” first appears in 1852.  The slang word quiz meaning “odd, ridiculous person” dates back to around 1780 (where we get the word quizzical), but it’s not entirely clear whether that’s the origin of the “test” meaning.  If so, the derivation is probably by way of “to make someone look ridiculous by means of puzzling questions,” which appeared by the end of the 18th century.  Another theory is that the test quiz derives from Latin qui es? (“who are you?”) which is said to be the first question in Latin oral exams in the 19th century.

essay - This comes from the same ultimate Latin root as exam, although in a different form.  Also, English acquired essay after it had spent a lot more time in French, and it may have been coined in English by Francis Bacon in the late 16th century, under the inspiration of Montaigne.  Bacon’s meaning “discursive literary composition” also had the sense of “trial, endeavor.”

assessment - This didn’t enter educational jargon until the mid-20th century.  Its first use in English was from around 1530, meaning “the value of property for tax purposes,” a meaning that remains.  It derives from Anglo-French assess, “to fix the amount of a tax, fine, etc,” from Latin for “sitting beside,” as in someone assisting a judge.  (And yes, assist is ultimately somewhat related to assess.)

evaluation - I’ll throw this onto my list of synonyms, although there’s nothing very exciting in its etymology.  It entered English from French in the mid 18th century, and simply means “to determine the value” of something.  The somewhat less concrete sense of assessing performance as opposed to tangible goods is later, and “job performance review” isn’t until the mid-20th century.

Lots of other synonyms for tests, such as finals, midterms, orals, etc, are all simply the adjectives that described various types of examinations.

        For anyone still dreading their exams, I wish you the best of luck.  Summer is almost here!

[Pictures: A Study, wood block print from Orbis Sensualium Pictus by John Comenius, translated by Hoole and printed for S. Leacroft, 1777 (Image from Google ebooks);

Detail of color wood block print by Walter Crane from The Absurd A.B.C., engraved and printed by Edmund Evans, c 1874 (Image from Internet Archive);

“Y was a Youth” alphabet from The Hobby-Horse, or the High Road to Learning, published by J. Harris and Son, 1820 (Images from A Nursery Companion by Iona and Peter Opie, 1980).]

Garwood's Wood Engravings

         Tirzah Garwood (UK, 1908-1951) was one of those artists whose work was overshadowed in the minds of art historians by the work of her artist husband.  If you want to see what I’ve shared of his work, you can revisit Eric Ravilious here.  But today let’s have a little sampling of Garwood’s wood engravings, which have a witty style all their own.

        First, here’s “The Wife,” a self portrait (made when Garwood was engaged to Ravilious) sitting up in bed beneath a picture of a house.  I like all the patterns and textures - the wallpaper!  that tablecloth! - the details of the architecture and furniture, and the young wife gazing somewhat enigmatically at the viewer.  This was part of a whole series on relationships.

        “Brick House Kitchen” is another with lots of texture, plus the added charm of a lot of cats and a large chicken.  It certainly looks like a cozy kitchen, if possibly a danger of fur and feathers in the food!  The technical skill of all those textures creating their varied effects is impressive.  I’m especially admiring the shading of the bricks at the side of the fireplace.

        For a subtle touch of the humor that marks many of Garwood’s depictions of people, notice how this baby has tossed their teddy bear overboard from the pram while the

nurse looks the other way.  How long before the loss will be noticed?  What adventures will Teddy have, perilously close to the road, before it’s reunited with the baby?

        And finally, another possible self-portrait in which the young woman looks away from the other travellers in the third class carriage, inviting us into her world despite her neutral expression.  Again, the details are masterful, from the view outside the window to the dozing men inside, and the careful depictions of clothing.  Garwood has other pieces depicting broader caricatures, or more riotous action, but I’ve chosen the ones I particularly like, which seem to be those that give me a chance to contemplate these places and people.

        Garwood and Ravilious were married for 12 years before he was lost at sea.  During that time she set aside much of her own work to help him with his - uncredited, of course.  She did get back into her own work (and eventually remarry), but she no longer did wood engraving, which I think is a real shame.  She died of cancer just shy of her 43rd birthday, so we’ll never know where her art might have gone if she’d had more time.  If you happen to find yourself south of London this weekend, you have a chance to see the first major exhibition of her work, showing at Dulwich Picture Gallery through May 26.  Alas, I won’t be there!  But it’s nice to see an excellent block printmaker with a distinctive style finally coming back into the public eye and getting her due.

[Pictures: The Wife, wood engraving by Tirzah Garwood, 1929 (Image from invaluable);

Brick House Kitchen, wood engraving by Garwood, 1932 (Image from Wikimedia Commons);

The Grandchild, wood engraving by Garwood, c. 1928-9 (Image from invaluable);

The Train Journey, wood engraving by Garwood, c. 1928-30 (Image from invaluable).]

Plausible Impossibilities

         When telling stories, Aristotle wrote, it was better to include a probable impossibility than an unconvincing possibility.  Aristotle wasn’t much of a fan of spec fic and his advice may be intended to hold for all fiction, but for me its interest lies in its application to fantasy world creation.  It’s a strange and fascinating fact that when telling stories of impossible worlds, it is nevertheless the case that some things seem less impossible, more real, than others.  Why is this?  And how is an author to make sure their stories are “believable” even when no one really believes them?

        Samuel Taylor Coleridge coined an important phrase when he wrote that he wanted to endow his poems of the supernatural with “a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.”  Of course “suspension of disbelief” doesn’t mean that readers (or viewers of movies, or whatever) really believe in the fantastical things they’re being told in the same way that they believe in the world outside the story.  Rather, they’re agreeing to engage in the story’s exploration of What if?  Yes yes, we know there’s no such thing as ghost-crewed ships, faster-than-light space travel, or dragons, but what if there were?

        Even for that conditional suspension of disbelief, the author needs to make the impossibilities seem probable.  J.R.R. Tolkien pointed out that readers are not so much setting aside or suspending their disbelief, but rather putting together a secondary system of belief based on the presented reality of a secondary world.  Whatever impossible rules apply within a fictional world, they must be consistent so that they are internally plausible.  (This is why, for example, I don’t quibble with Aragorn’s kingship in The Lord of the Rings even though democracy is a better system of government.  I accept the truth within the story that Aragorn being put on the throne is the best outcome in that world.)

        But all this still leaves the question of how to do it?  How to make those impossibilities in that fictional world seem plausible enough that the audience willingly suspends their disbelief and constructs a solid secondary belief system?  There are a whole host of strategies, and authors can make the magic work in a variety of ways for a variety of effects.  Some things to consider…

        • Although breaking the laws of physics is really a simple binary (possible or impossible), in fact people respond to a sense of how much natural laws seem to be pushed.  It seems that it would be harder to levitate a building (or a crash-landed X-wing) than a toad, and harder to control a hurricane than a local breeze.  So don’t break laws carelessly; don’t defy reality gratuitously.  In the 1920’s Walt Disney introduced a revolutionary concept to animation when he made sure that his animators paid attention to the laws of physics in everything except their magic.  The water sloshes realistically in the buckets of marching brooms, if a dwarf trips his beard flies up just like that of a real man tripping in the real world, and even a flying elephant is realistically affected by the wind.  Even while tweaking one thing, an author can keep the rest of our webs of reality intact.

        • On the other hand, sometimes it’s necessary to distort a whole section of the web around the breach.  Even when considering the impossible, humans have a sense of the logic of what would make something possible.  That’s why we like our magical systems to follow rules and our sci fi to have quasi-scientific explanations.  Magic should come from ley lines, or from the original language of creation, or from angels or demons or Old Gods, or from something…  Space ships should fly because of warp drives, or ion drives, or infinite improbability drives, or something…  Depending on the context, those rules and explanations can be pretty vague or far-fetched, but the author still needs to manipulate enough of the world around the magic to give the audience a sense that it’s internally consistent and plausible within that world.  Sometimes it’s just window dressing, but it can make or break an illusion.

        • Like any good con, speculative fiction works best when you tell a story people want to believe.  That’s where all the sparkly bits of the story come in.  If it’s fun, or beautiful, or intriguing, or full of wonder, the audience will want to spend time there.  Of course people like stories with dragons, because dragons would be so cool!  Ditto exploring the universe, or saving the gnomes from oppression, or going to a school for wizardry, or finding love with a faerie prince…  Offer the audience invitations to suspend their disbelief, and situations they want to spend time considering.

        • In all the discussion of far-future technologies and the glittery laws of magic, people sometimes forget that the most important aspect of “realism” may have little to do with the magic and more to do with those fundamental aspects of what it means to be a person responding to the world and our relationships within it.  In other words, it’s easier to believe in a fairy godmother who reacts to her loved ones in a plausibly human way than to believe in a perfectly mundane woman who doesn’t.  A sensitively portrayed friendship between a space kraken and a moonfrog will ring more true than a sloppy and shallow portrayal of relationships between “normal” humans.  That’s Coleridge’s “human interest,” I think.  If the author tells what feels like the truth about the deepest things, we’ll happily accept most of the other stuff.

        What are some of your favorite plausible impossibilities?  Or what are some things or tropes that you can simply never suspend your disbelief about?

[Pictures: Full many shapes, that shadows were, wood engraving by Gustave Doré from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1877 (Image from Parigi Books);

Marching broom, still from Walt Disney’s Fantasia, 1940 (Image from Disney Fandom).

Quotation from Biographia Literaria by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1817.]

Strange Lands

         Today we’re back to block printing, and I’ve got a little collection of landscapes that bring some artistic license to the view.

        First is a cityscape by Luigi Spacal that positively revels in geometry.  There are suggestions of windows and possibly girders or overhead rails, but for the most part this could be a purely abstract collection of patterns - but then there’s a bicycle right there on the street (if that’s the street), in front of the eyeglasses of an optometrist’s shop (if that’s an optometrists’s shop).  I find the whole thing delightfully quirky and surprisingly cheerful.

        The second piece by Betty Sieler is, by contrast, serene and peaceful: a forest on a misty day.  The interesting thing about this one is that it’s amazing how clearly it represents tree trunks, because when you look closely it’s really just seemingly rough and random vertical lines.  The two colors of grey make it even more of a mushy mess, and yet simultaneously give it even more realistic depth.  This kind of art often seems like magic to me, when rough and simple carving coheres into a perfect evocation of a precise scene.

        The final piece, by Madeleine Flaschner, is even more abstract.  In fact, perhaps it isn’t even meant to be a landscape at all.  It’s simply titled “Composition,” so it could actually be purely abstract.  And yet my pattern-seeking eyes see a landscape here: sky at the top, high cliffs in the distance, perhaps water in the foreground, maybe some trees or plants at the sides…  It’s something of a sampler of different patterns and textures, and whatever it is, it’s dramatic!

        Three very different styles, three very different landscapes, and yet each of these three artists manages to evoke a scene that is simultaneously suggestive of the world and imaginative in strange and magical ways.  Which is your favorite?

[Pictures: City in the Night, woodcut by Luigi Spacal, 19702 (Image from 1stDibs);

Woodlands, linocut by Betty Sieler, 1962 (Image from Marianna Kistler Beach Museum of Art);

Composition, woodcut by Madeleine Flaschner, late 20th century (Image from 1stDibs).]

National Poetry Month

         April is National Poetry Month, but since April is also A to Z Blog Challenge month, that always takes precedence on this blog.  This year, however, I was especially active with National Poetry Month and I wanted to share a recap of some of that poetry goodness, even if belated.

        First of all, I had a number of duties as Poet Laureate of my town.

        1.  On April 13 I attended the opening celebration of a fresh new Poetry Walk at a local church.  They had solicited spring-themed haiku from members of their congregation, and they asked me to contribute some, as well.  They then made special lawn-sign flip-charts with the poems, and placed them throughout their small Memorial Garden, making a lovely, interactive way to engage with spring poetry among the flowers and emerging leaves.  (One of my poems that they used was my dandelion haiku.)

        2. On April 16 I led a Poetry-Writing Workshop at the Needham library.  We started with a few creativity warm-up exercises, and then went through three prompts, spending about 15 minutes on each, and sharing our efforts at the end of each.  The attendees were enthusiastic, willing to try whatever I threw at them, and came up with some excellent poetry.  (They especially impressed me with their tricubes!  That was a form I definitely struggled with, but some of them were able to use the form to advantage in really clever and effective ways.)

        3. On April 28 I gave a presentation for Great Poetry Reading Day for the town’s Council on Aging.  My assignment was to talk about myself and the role of Poet Laureate, and to read a few Great Poems.  I put my presentation together by interspersing the poems throughout the talk as illustrations of certain points in my explanation of the Poet Laureate role and how I got there.  This went over very well, and I ended by having the audience throw out their own favorite poems, which I then looked up and read aloud for them.  (To pull this post back a little more toward the fantasy theme of this blog, I’ll note that the poems I shared included the “Jabberwocky” and “The Listeners.”)

        All three of these sessions were pretty well-attended by the proverbial choir, so the preaching was very enjoyable!  But of course part of my job is to enlarge that choir and get poetry in front of more people who don’t necessarily already consider themselves poetry-lovers.  An activity that hopefully took a step in that direction actually took place outside of Poetry Month, on the first weekend of May.  During the annual Open Studios, I got 10 artists (including myself) to host Poetry Stations, in which they gave out copies of poems to everyone who visited them.  For the Poetry Stations I had selected 10 poems that were inspired by works of art, with a range of poets from Shelley to Yolen to myself, and a range of art from ancient to renaissance to modern.  I’m still trying to collect feedback on how much engagement that project got, but it included visitors who were very excited and were planning to collect all the poems, but also plenty of people who didn’t evince any interest at all!

        In addition to those official activities, I also had some more personal poetry activity during the month.  I was very pleased to have a poem accepted by Haiku Newton, which has printed poems for display.  (It makes me laugh, though, that it’s another spring-themed haiku.  Why does everyone always want spring-themed haiku?  Come on, people - there are other themes and there are other forms!)  For the kick-off all the poems are on display at the Newton library, but over the course of the year they’ll be placed in different areas throughout the city.

        The other thing I did was write a poem every day throughout the month of April.  I’ve never done that before and I enjoyed it very much, although some of the days were certainly more successful than others!  To be clear, only a few of them are what I would consider a finished, polished poem, and many of them will probably never be worth polishing up any further.  But the point was to do the exercise, and that was definitely a success.  Mostly I used the prompts from NaPoWriMo and Readers Digest Poem a Day, although on a few days I just followed an idea of my own.  Of the 30 poems (or, to be clear, poem drafts) about 8 were on fantasy themes, mostly fairy tales.

        I definitely want to keep up the momentum, although the first 8 days of May were so wildly busy for me that it would be more accurate to hope that I can get back the momentum before it gets too far behind me.  National Poetry Month turned out to be a good kick in the pants for my poetical activities, but I certainly don’t want poetry to be confined to just one month.

[Pictures: assorted photos of First Parish Poetry Walk,

Poetry Stations at Needham Open Studios,

Haiku Newton poetry signs, photos by AEGNydam, 2025.]

Reflections on an A to Z of Bittersweetness & Light

         Thanks for another great April A to Z, everyone!  Thanks to the A to Z organizers, and thanks to every one of you who stopped by to comment on my posts.  I enjoyed visiting quite a few of your blogs, too.  However, the last week of April was quite ridiculously busy for me — I had work hanging in 5 shows simultaneously this past weekend! — so my time to visit and comment fell off at the end.  I look forward to reading the last few letters on all my favorites in the next week.

        Some years I have a long final post into which I try to cram lots of extra goodies that didn’t fit into the alphabet, but this year all I really have to say by way of conclusion is to reiterate some of my main points from this year’s A to Z:

        • If you enjoy the work of any small-time indie artists, authors, musicians, etc., your support really makes a huge difference to us.  Word of mouth is always best, but any way you can help connect us with other people who might enjoy our work, you’re making a vital contribution to our ability to keep bringing our creations into the world.

        • The world is pretty stressful right now for a lot of very real reasons, but if you feel overwhelmed, remember that your distress is artificially exacerbated by media algorithms that amplify outrage, human negativity bias that disproportionately focusses on reasons for fear, and a culture of cynicism that portrays hope and love as naive, foolish, and unrealistic.  But you don’t have to accept that.  Bring a healthy dose of skepticism to your cynicism.  Keep your eyes open for the cooperation, love, and delight that really are everywhere.  And keep valiantly resisting those who try to tell you that hatred and lies are normal and inevitable.  Such people are terrified of the power of kindness and hope, so let those be your superpowers.

        • If you’re interested in my next book project, stay tuned for future announcements via my newsletter and this blog.  It’s going to be another collection of short stories, poems, and art, and they’ll all be inspired by, reflecting on, and reimagining stories from Greek mythology, European fairy tales, and other classic folklore.  I hope to have some big news about the project in July.

        Thanks again to everyone who made such supportive, encouraging comments about Bittersweetness & Light.  I appreciate you very much.

        Marketing Moral: Thank you!

        Proper Moral: A book doesn’t truly live until someone reads it.

[Bittersweetness & Light by Anne E.G. Nydam, 2025 (Learn more at NydamPrints.com)].

Z is for Zumil

        (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Bittersweetness & Light, my new collection of hope-filled, joy-inducing fantasy and sci fi short stories, poems, and art.  I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, and I’ve also been sharing some of the background on why we urgently need joyful stories.)

        Here’s the part in the story “The Home for Dispossessed Familiars” where we meet Zumil.  (I’ve added just a couple of inserts for context, where needed.)

        When Trudy arrived home from school on Thursday she found Colly [a crow] standing on the table, examining the papers Great Aunt Gert had sent.  The crow shuffled the top one aside with a claw, cocking her head from side to side as she scanned across the tattered pages.

        “Oh!  You can read?” Trudy exclaimed.  “Sorry, I guess I just assumed that because Grimalkin [a cat] said he couldn’t…”

        “Grimalkin is a heavy,” Colly replied, “I’m the scholarly type.”

        “I’m a man of action,” Grimalkin muttered from where he lay sprawled across the loveseat at the other end of the room.

        Trudy dropped her bag on the table and reached to pull out the chair.  She screamed as her hand touched something that was definitely not wood – something that squeezed out from under her palm and skittered into the shadows under the table.

        “What the…?”

        Colly hopped to the edge of the table and peered down.  “Are you okay, Zumil?  Come on out.”

        “What…?” Trudy repeated weakly, wondering how her life had so suddenly gotten so bizarre.

        A sharp nose poked up from the underside of the tabletop, vanished as the creature and Trudy startled each other again, and then slowly reemerged.  It crept up over the edge to the top of the table.

        Grimalkin jumped down from the loveseat, stretched, sauntered over, and hopped up onto the chair seat.  “Zumil,” he said, indicating the creature with a nod.  This new creature was a yellow-speckled lizard, long-nosed and long-tailed like an anole, but larger than any Trudy had ever seen.

        “A familiar, I presume?” she asked.

        The lizard bobbed his head.

        “And has his witch died recently?”

        Another nod.

        “Someone should probably be looking into the mortality rate of local witches.”

        I wrote this story after realizing, to my astonishment, that I’d actually never written a short story that included familiars or similar animal companions.  This was a great surprise to me because I’d included animal companions in all of my novels, and just assumed that of course I must have written stories about them… But I hadn’t, so I went back to basics and started with your classic witches’ familiars.  But the twist is that they’re gathering at the home of a woman who is not a witch, has no desire to be a witch, and doesn’t even know what to do with them all!  And of course it ends up being another story about cooperation, compassion, and caring for each other.

        Marketing Moral: We end where we began: Buy my Book!  If this series of posts has enticed you to the point where you actually wish to have your very own copy the book, it’s available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or straight from me.

        Proper Moral: Divided we fall, which is why repressive governments work so hard to sow distrust and divide people from each other.  However, as long as we refuse to stop caring for each other, we cannot be truly defeated.  (Also, a friend in need is a friend indeed.)

        If you could have a magical familiar, what animal would you choose?

[Picture: Anole, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2024 (Image from Bittersweetness & Light, but originals are still available at NydamPrints.com).]

Y is for Yem-Thress

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Bittersweetness & Light, my new collection of hope-filled, joy-inducing fantasy and sci fi short stories, poems, and art.)

        Here’s an excerpt from somewhere in the middle of the short story “A Missionary to the Yem-Thress Zone of Contention.”

        The Facilitator came up behind Mary Fisher and guided her out of the Great Hall, backwards so as not to have to turn around in one direction or the other and thus seem to favor one potentate over the other.  They led her back to her room, and as soon as they were inside with the portal closed, their limbs went slack.

        “You must be trying to get me executed!” they groaned, but the UniTrans marked the tone with a “wry humor” tag.

        “I did warn you.”  She raised both arms in the waving gesture that the UniTrans suggested would indicate friendly affection.  “I’m very grateful for your help.  But now I’ve done my piece and I’ll go home and leave you, hopefully in peace.  I certainly hope you won’t suffer for listening to the message and helping me share it.”

        A buzz on the portal startled them both, making the Facilitator contract so suddenly their elaborate collar slid down over their shoulders.  “You are a wreck!” Mary said, her own tone marked with wry humor as the Facilitator relaxed to normal dimensions and rearranged their collar.  They opened the door and a being entered, wearing the livery of the Thress Emperor and bearing a round box intricately carved from some reddish substance that looked to Mary like coral.

        “For the Ambassador from the Divine Spirit,” they said.  Mary tried to read the Thress courtier’s expression, but the UniTrans marked it only “formal.”  The being opened the box and presented it to Mary.  Inside, nestled on a soft blue cushion, was an object about as large as her open hand and shaped like a rounded star.  It was made of some sort of polished stone with waving gold striations, studded with blue glass bubbles.

        “A shkreth!” the Facilitator breathed in a voice filled with awe.

        The courtier blinked graciously.

        This story pulls on a lot of threads that interest me.  It’s a Quaker story in disguise (actually based on a true story from 1658, reimagined as some kind of far-future sci fi).  It’s full of linguistic explorations, as the characters attempt to communicate difficult philosophical concepts across widely alien cultures, relying on some sort of universal translator.  It’s imagining some of the different ways the universe could be viewed by creatures with very different biology (including pentaradial symmetry).  It’s about the possibility of connection and cooperation.

        Today’s illustrations are two shkreth and a very rough sketch of what I imagine the Yem-Thress might look like.

        Marketing Moral: My marketing “morals” have all been about things you could do for me, so how about for once I offer you some free stuff?  Some of the offers are tit-for-tat:

• Sign up for my newsletter and I’ll send you a pdf sampler of some of my art and poetry concerning dragons.

• If you own or have read my book On the Virtues of Beasts of the Realms of Imagination, leave a review somewhere (and let me know where) and I’ll send you a pdf of a bonus page for the book that includes new creatures.

• There’s a giveaway right now on Bookfunnel where you can get lots of free ebooks, including a collection of Round Robin Stories (Volume Three), one of which I collaborated on.

        Plus a few other things are straight-up, no-strings-attached free:

• If you go to my Books and Writing page, you’ll find links to 7 of my stories and poems that are published on-line and available to read any time.  (Some of them were already linked during the alphabet, but there are also a few others that aren’t from this book.)

• Do you like coloring pages?  You can download several here.  Plus, in the same folder there's also a memory game you can print out.

        Proper Moral: Fortune favors the bold – but perhaps even more, karma favors those with integrity.

        Have you ever been able to reach across a cultural divide and make a connection with someone you expected to be very different?

[Pictures, Shkreth, rubber block prints with digital manipulation;

The Facilitator, pen on paper by AEGNydam from Bittersweetness & Light, 2025 (See NydamPrints.com).]

X is for Xyblik

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Bittersweetness & Light, my new collection of hope-filled, joy-inducing fantasy and sci fi short stories, poems, and art.  It’s not too late to see what my fellow A to Z bloggers are up to, by checking out the Master List.)

        Time for another excerpt from another story.  Here’s the beginning of “Love Potion.”

        Xyblik’s Cosmic Emporium stood for as long as anyone could remember at the corner of Elm Street and Hillside.  The proprietor was an Old One made of tentacles and slime, who bubbled cheerfully at all his customers and loved nothing better than a good gossip when anyone came in to buy a box of interdimensional nails or a packet of eldritch biscuits.  Abby Dimmock took this into consideration when deciding the best time to purchase a love potion.  She knew Xyblik would chat if she came when the Emporium was empty, and she was in no mood to chat with anyone about the sorry state of her love life.  On the other hand, this still seemed preferable to asking for a love potion in front of half her fellow townsfolk on a busy Saturday afternoon.

        She winced as the cracked iron bell in the doorway clanged, announcing her entrance.  So much for subtlety.  At least the sparkling and warbling of the ineffable feathersquids in the corner always made her smile.

        “Ah, Dear Lady Dimmock!” Xyblik greeted her brightly from the high counter of polished mahogany in front of the shelves of dusty bottles, lead-sealed urns, and other dark and mysterious items.  The air sac inside his semitransparent greenish body swelled and pulsed as he spoke, amplifying his voice to a tone suitable for Dark Proclamations.  “What service may be rendered unto you on this fateful day?”

        “I’m looking for a love potion, please,” she mumbled.

        “What’s that?  A Potion of Inexorable Love?” the Old One bellowed, making Abby profoundly grateful that she was indeed the only customer in the shop at the moment. 

        This is one of those rare stories that sprang into my head pretty much fully formed, and was super fun and easy to write.  The illustration of Xyblik is a proper rubber block print (originals still available, at the link below), while the illustration of the ineffable feathersquid was done digitally, by request of the editors of Cosmic Roots & Eldritch Shores, where the story was first published.  You can still read the entire story on their web site here.  (That version is very slightly different from what appears in my book.)  You can also read much more about the whole process of story and illustrations at my previous post How to Make a Love Potion.

        (Past Me was very clever to name a character starting with X long before Present Me was going to need it for an A to Z blog post!)

        Marketing Moral:  Attack people on public transportation with a copy of your favorite indie author’s book, so that the cover gets featured on the news.  (Okay, I don’t really advocate this, but I saw it on another author’s list and it cracked me up.  I guess the real marketing moral is to be a little creative about how to catch people’s eyes, but I confess that my creativity doesn’t seem to get very fired up about promotion, alas, when it would rather be writing and making art.)

        Proper Moral: Two wrongs don’t make a right – but two ineffable feathersquids do!

        What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done to catch the eye of a love interest (or to promote a book)?

[Picture: Love Potion, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2021;

Ineffable Feathersquid, digital illustration by AEGNydam (Images from Bittersweetness & Light, but originals of Love Potion are still available at NydamPrints.com).]

W is for Window

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Bittersweetness & Light, my new collection of hope-filled, joy-inducing fantasy and sci fi short stories, poems, and art.  I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, and I’ve also been sharing some of the background on why we do actually need joyful stories.  If you like strange creatures, magical worlds, and being reminded of the good to be found in the world, join me!)

        Today I’ll post another poem in its entirety: “The Window”

     My kitchen window now and then looks out

     Into another world.  Late afternoon,

     I rinse the lettuce, watching distant dragons

     Twine their gleaming tails in spiraling flight

     Above a golden city which no street

     I know can reach.  Sometimes at night

     That strange sky holds a different moon.

     Today a glowing scarlet bird

     Sang opals in the fragrant, dark-leafed trees

     That do not grow in my back yard.

     Small people clad in glittering beetle shells

     Were beating copper drums in revelry

     While I was scrubbing dinner’s dirty pans.

     Is there a window in that golden town

     Where some small person, copper-clad, looks out

     Onto the otherworldly mystery

     That is my un-mown dandelion lawn?

        People who attempt to sell their art and writing are constantly having to provide short bio blurbs, and this poem happens to illustrate a line I like to put in mine: Anne E.G. Nydam makes relief block prints celebrating the wonders of worlds both real and imaginary, and writes and illustrates books, stories, and poems about adventure, creativity, and finding sometimes unexpected joy.  This poem includes wonders both real and imaginary, and celebrates the joy of the ordinary as well as the fantastical.  (Yep, there’s that magic of ordinary dandelions again!)

        The illustration is another of those digital collages made out of pieces of block prints.  For example, you can recognize the distant city here.

        Marketing Moral: Did I mention reviews?  I could always use more reviews!  (Big thanks to A to Z organizer and storyteller extraordinaire Tarkabarka for a new review, and do check out this lovely long review by A-to-Z’s own Tao Talk!  Thanks, Lisa!)

        Proper Moral: Sometimes a molehill really is someone else’s mountain.  It’s all a matter of perspective.

        What’s the most unexpected or interesting thing you’ve ever glimpsed out a window?

[Pictures: Window digital collage by AEGNydam from Bittersweetness & Light, 2025 (See NydamPrints.com).]