Blind Rabbit Books is a Go!

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Love,

Sarai 

Books for the Halloween Spirit

If you're anything like me, you want to read something a little spookier during the fall season. But if you're like me, you also don't always know where to start. I'm a total baby about scary movies, and although I'm a little bit better with books I'm still someone who has to stay far away from anything too spooky, too bloody, too terrifying. A little bit is fine. But too much will keep me up at night. That doesn't stop me from enjoying the necessity of the season--a book that sets my heart racing while I cuddle up on the couch. I've explored different types of books over the years, for this purpose, and I've found some winners for those of us who have delicate sensibilities. I hope you find at least one of these books to give you that sense of dread we all want to feel this time of year (while being able to safely make hot chocolate if we want). 

My picks:

We Have Always Lived in the Castle--Shirley Jackson

If you've read any Jackson before, you know she's not scared of delving into the most horrifying and eerie parts of humanity. Just as dark and shocking as her short story "The Lottery" but much creepier, and with a foreboding atmosphere. It's quite short so I read it in one sitting. I could not stop talking about it right after, and I told my husband every detail of the plot at two in the morning because I was so hung up on it. It might not scare you, but it will creep you out. 

The Historian--Elizabeth Kostova

I first tried to read this in middle school, but it is massive, especially when you're in eighth grade. Instead of finishing it I forgot about it for years and then one day decided to buy it and finally finish it. And I'm immensely happy that I did. Obviously it's a historical fiction, but the history is rich, and full, and spans years and years of research and storytelling. It deals with Vlad the Impaler, my favorite historical villain/hero (depends who you ask), and a young girl who wants to find her family at all costs. If that's not enough, Vlad the Impaler is the original inspiration for Count Dracula. But this is not a story about Twilight vampires. The villains of a story that explores the history of the most famous vampire of all time are not sparkly, nor are they friendly. 

And Then There Were None--Agatha Christie

The queen of mystery and suspense! No Halloween is complete without some Agatha Christie to keep you guessing. I loved this book so much. Ten people, all with secrets too horrific to tell, are stranded on a mysterious island until the storm passes. And interestingly enough, no one seems to know who invited them all. A thriller, and a perfectly woven mystery, it's impossible to put down and keeps you hooked until the last second when you think you've figured it out. But you haven't, I promise. 

Since Halloween is soon to be over, I'll leave it at this for now. In the meantime, I'll come up with some cozy fall reads that don't have to do with things that go bump in the night. Until then, say hi to the monsters under the bed for me. 

Love,

Sarai

Towards the Sun

I still recall being

A paper doll

In his unsteady hands.

I watched with horror as my sweet wax wings

Melted in the sharp, white sun

Before I could even fly.

And that the feathers

Slowly walked down from the sky

To wait for me.

But as I took the last few steps

My feet went missing

And I bumped my way down

Into the yawping mouth below.

In the Bread Aisle

I have a short list of words—

Words I would whisper out into

The deepdeepdeep night

With the bigbigbig trees—

The trees that I think are all

About sex.

An arrangement of letters

Wrapped into one of those billions

Of words

That I haven’t ever said to you before.

I would touch your ear again,

Feeling the

Peach fuzz that

Covers it completely. Feeling your

Heart

Beat

Through the thin fabric of your pajamas

Across your broad ribcage.

I can feel each coil of muscle

Where it attaches

To each piece of bone.

But who watched you move silently,

Violently,

Achingly aware of your proximities.

Stiffly grasping, like a broken-backed bird.

All the while silently sobbing—

But refusing to wake

The sleeping world?

Me.

So I’ll stare at the intrusive glow of

My phone screen,

The blue reaching back into my

Orbital Fenestra,

Where it can’t hurt anyone.

I will turn it off

And go to sleep. 

City Sounds

I wake and climb up on the roof above

To look out over all the Portland sky.

I close my eyes and let the wind become

Six miles per hour of new words to write.

The sounds of horns and bike wheels all rise up—

Distracting from the words I cannot think.

I wish just once

To close my eyes

And hear a mellow loon call.

But I will settle for the sound of trains.

The Tallest Man on Earth

The nurse staff asked

“What happened to him?”

I answered, silently,

Is it anyone’s fault when an evergreen falls?

Careful sheets and lilac flowers and orange rinds too,

Cover you.

What did I do to

The man in the moon?

Nothing-I whisper-nothing.

And all I can think of is

Lying facedown on the bed

With one eye open

Next to the lilac flowers

Listening to you tell the fable

Of you, the tallest man on earth.

You left me there,

Waiting, naked.

Next time, I’ll introduce myself—

“Hello, it’s so nice to meet you, my name is Scapegoat”

Unnamed

I saw a woman on a bench today—

            I memorized her.

            Every freckle I could see

            And every sigh that left her lips.

            I took them for my own.

I saw a nymph on a bench today—

            And I knew she knew

            Where Amelia Earhart

            Had gone.

            If anyone could know, she could know.

I saw a goddess on a bench today—

            And the world tipped to one side

            And left me groundless.

            Even time paused

            To wink at her

            Before continuing his work.

I saw a girl on a bench today—

            She left after saying “hello”

            And I didn’t want to follow. 

Clam

In the palm of his hand,

For his convenience,

Lay a clam.

Fissures and fault lines

Made up the map of her shell.

A smile was barely visible

As he crushed the shell inside his fist

Revealing the naked pink

Innards. He could almost see

Her shivering.

With a smirk

He tossed the mess to the ground. 

The Salt

The salt-sea

Breeze and the

Sea-salt spice

Make up most of the summer.

I watched a little red buoy hoist himself up up and up

Into the waves.

Tumble, tumble, head over toes,

Only to start the climb again.

His little journey

Is never-ever-ending.

I think I hear him calling

Over the rumble of the ride.

Nothing smells quite like

The sea-salted breeze

Or the faint, far off

Linger of a

Long-dead crab.

And how can I do anything

But lay like a stone,

While my skin starts to

Darken and my lips

Start to sting,

Until I can feel them crackling under my tongue.

Until I dissolve into the sea-salt waves.

Until I am the sea salt too.

Clouds

I had to write and revise ten poems for a class last semester, so I'll be posting them in the order I submitted them for class over the next couple of weeks. I posted this one before, but it was before revision. This is the new version. Enjoy!

Clouds

Sometimes all I can see

Are rabbits in the clouds,

Or mermaids.

Or even mammoth creatures.

But usually, just clouds.

Sometimes the sky

Turns purple. And we all have

To wait awhile

Before climbing trees.

Even oftener still,

The sky lets loose

A bright and lusty barrage

Of water,

That everyone ignores.

I will always marvel at you,

Even when the rest of the world forgets.