Smurf Hunt

In the wilds beyond Smurf Village lives a creature terrifying to those forest dwellers that stand three apples high. Its predawn cry rattles the trees and frightens smurflings far and wide. One of Gargamel's most grotesque creations....the dreaded Pumpkin Headed Smurf.

When the winter snow is fresh and the sky is grey, he stomps and growls. He roars and howls. He creeps closer and closer with a hunger that cannot be met.

But there is one brave warrior smurfy enough to confront this menace of the forest. Setting off from his camp, he matches the beast's calls with fearsome cries of his own. Their paths rearrange on a collision course from which only one smurf could ever survive.

 

Round the winding trails in the forest, the two come face-to-face. One raises his arms. The other levels his weapon....

Imagination Invasion

There are certain stories that completely take over part of the imagination and live there. Whenever I look at mushroom patches, I'm instantly thinking of Smurf villages. Every snow pile is a potential Hoth play world. Forests have too many possible stories but lucky their big enough to fit them all in.

The legacy of a story teller doesn't reside in the pages of a book but in the imaginations of those who encounter the story. Being able to contribute to that in some small way is one of the reasons I do what I do.

I Made That!

I've never been very good at making things. Creatively, I mean. I can make dinner. I can make a mess. I can even make fun. But I never make anything artistically. The two ways I've always expressed myself are either through writing or drawing. I know things are technically made in those processes, but it's not quite the same thing.

Books are all cerebral. Images are all visual.

Being a huge collector of action figures, I've always fancied myself a woodcarver at some point, sitting on the porch in a rocking chair and widdling away tiny wooden figures. They would be mostly of elephants. I love elephants. I have since I was a toddler. All kinds of elephants. Very little ones. Apple picking elephants. Any kind. Possibly I could carve some Smurfs and throw into the mix. However, despite promising myself every year that I'll take up the art, I have to confess to a deep rooted fear of losing a finger. No wooden elephant is worth that. A wooden Jokey Smurf? Maybe.

My wife has recently begun making and designing clothes. (Example to the side and more here if you're interested). It amazes me the way she's able to have a vision of something and then actually bring that into existence. It's like bringing an object out of the stream of imagination and putting it forth into the world.

A great story is sort of the same thing, only we as authors never actually make those worlds we create into concrete fact. We only open a window and allow the reader to gaze at it for a while. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say there's not an art to that. Believe me, I've devoted my life to it. But, at some point, I think it would be nice to produce an object.

In that spirit, I set off to spend today rebuilding the staircase to my deck. I have the materials. I have the tools. I also have a tremendous amount of skepticism. I know I can write about a pristine staircase, or a crumbling one. My worry is that I will only be able to bring the latter into existence. We'll see. If all goes well, wooden Smurfs can't be too far off.