Book Review: Circle of Three: So Mote It Be

I'll admit - I was WAY more than a little curious when I started reading this book. I'd read a ton of reviews on it, claiming it was the most accurate fictional portrayal of real-life magic out there. Still . . . It was out of print, so I had to winder, just a little bit, if it stood up to that hype.

Answer? It totally does. The characters, Kate, Annie and Cooper are wonderfully done, and I feel like they're actual people. I can see a bit of myself in each of them. More than that, though, the explanations given are spot on. I've even dog-eared a few of the pages to use as reference later - I know need it when it comes to interpereting the Tarot cards!

When the characters use magic, too, it's exactly the sort of thing I'd do or see in reality. Calling the Quarters, visualisation, even use of an athame - though, admittedly, Bird only calls is a knife, but considering that A) I prefer a wand anyway and B) the girls are all portrayed as novices, it's beyond acceptable.

The effects of magic gone awry are funny and maybe even a mite too close too home. I've had my share of magical messes, and I can very easily see these ones happening. A few hit very close to home, too . . .

I love the ritual at the end. The girls finally end their troubles by giving up what they don't need, and the way they did so is beautifully executed. I love the imagination Bird put in to it and, in turn, had her characters thunk up. Very symbolic, and could see it all happening in my mind's eye, as if I were there, watching the girls myself. The mark of a brilliant author, in my book(er, fanfiction? I write that a lot . . . ), indeed.

So . . . yeah. I can't say I like all the characters - but then again, as the reader I'm not supposed to. Speaking as a high school student, it's beyond accurate, and I'm checking to see how old Bird was when she wrote this, because it's exactly like my school, except it isn't in the Hot and Muggy Weather state. Oh, snow, oh snow, my glasses for some snow.

Speaking as a witch, the advice the girls get is accurate, and the depiction of Wicca and witchcraft is perfectly right. No glaring misconceptions, and while I disagree with Bird's mention of not mixing systems to find what works best, I thinks it's great. It's the sort of book I wish I'd found when I was eleven, or fourteen/fifteen, when I first started wondering about magic being real and looking into it as a faith, respectively.

So, yeah, it's a great book. I'm ordering the next four in the series off of Amazon tomorrow to read while on vacation to Orlando in a few weeks. They're all about the same length as this first one - it only took me a couple of hours to read. It's great.

Deleriously happy with what I've read,

 - Janie L.

"You Are the Company You Keep"

That's a phrase I heard a lot in the sixth grade. My science and homeroom teacher, Ms Gassett, said it. Often. It was the title to a poem she had taced up on the front wall, and it's something I'll always remember. She said it more as a caution - you are who you surround yourself with, so pick your friends carefully - and she had a point in that. However, I see it more as something to verbalise what you already know - that you act differently with different people.

Maybe you've seen the article about it at PaganWiccan About. Maybe you haven't. But I was thinking about that quote, and then Patti's article came to mind, so I thought, hey, I have this niftly little blog, why not add some more to it. So . . . I am.

You are the company you keep. That applies to friends, family, pets . . . even deities. Yeah, weird, isn't it? But it makes sense, too.

Think about it: taking my own life as an example, this afternoon, my friend Chris was over to hang out with me and my twin sister. We've been friends with each other since the seventh grade, and we even dated for a while. It didn't go anywhere, but we're still close. He's a really casual guy, big on tabletop RPGs and writing. He's been published, in fact, and plans to open a book store in town after we graduate.

At any rate, I noticed while hanging out that I'm much . . . freer with my language around him than I am with most of my other friends. I swear a bit more, I discuss a wider variety of things. I'm more open and outspoken.

Compare that to another friend of mine, Preston. He games too. He's big on Yu-Gi-Oh! and I'm introducing him to Dungeons and Dragons. He's very conservative and has a lot of misconceptions without even realising it - a recently cleared up one being that 'Pagan' is a term for 'Satanic cult.'

With Preston, I tend to be fairly quiet; I listen more and tune him out when he talks about Yu-Gi-Oh! because, frankly, I played it when I was seven and then got bored. Yes, the cards are shiny now, I will happily coo over them in appreciation. THst's as far as my interest goes. With Preston, I talk more about drama club and books, politics, and occasionally tackle him when he tries to 'exorcise' me(old joke dating back to Freshman year. I declared I was going to steal his soul for eating my cake.). I don't swear a LOT around him, but I do use a few milder curse words when making a point.

As a final example, Katy. Among all of the friends I've mentioned, she's the only one that knows I'm a witch. Chris thinks I'm Agnostic, and Preston thinks I'm vaguely Christian. Katy is a year younger than me, MUCH smarter than I am, Agnostic herself, a fellow military brat, and very opinionated, with most of those opinions being considered outlandish by the majority of the United States' population.

With Katy, I discuss fanfiction, writing, Harry Potter, religion, family, politics, psychology, medical problems, music and why our Chorus teacher ought to be sacked. In brief: we talk about anything and everything that comes to mind, with the only topic closed for discussion being her theory of my hearing loss being neurological in origin. She believes everything connects back to the brain directly, and we've agreed to disagree on why I've been losing my hearing. With her I swear very little, but discuss a lot of less-than-ethical subjects and there's a lot of repartee and satire between the two of us.

So. Three people. Three totally different ways of acting. Outspoken and loose-languaged, versus quiet and philisophical, versus outlandish and brutally honest, with lots of ethical questioning.

Why would it NOT be the same way with gods and goddesses? Or spirits or the elements or who/whatever it is a person worships and believes in? Would you treat the Morrigan the same way as you would, say, Athena? Or Aphrodite? Would you show reverence to Mars the same way you would to Cayote or Thor? Or Odin or Ishtar?

Each are a seperate (if linked, depending on your beliefs) entities, and deserve the respect they personally would expect. I wouldn't discuss why exactly para-human studies aren't ethical with Chris - he'd be completely bored and it wouldn't have a point. I wouldn't discuss sports with Katy because she'd think it's a waste of time. I wouldn't treat them in the same way, so why would I a deity?

Just some food for thought.

 - Janie L.

Wrong Species, Goddess

Okay, so as I'm sure you've all inferred reading this, I'm a girl, and relatively young at that. So, like any other heterosexual girl, I would LOVE to be noticed a smidge by the opposite sex.

This weekend, while dogsitting, I got my wish.

I couldn't sit in a room without the two male dogs in the house, Dobby the House Dog and Ripple, following me, squabbling over who would be pet or have my attention. It was sort of cute, the first day. As it is, I'm wrapping up a three day weekend, and there's Dobby, sitting right next to me with big brown eyes, begging for attention.

Seriously, do I smell? And how do I get that to work on human guys?

Ever confused,

 - Janie L.

How to Deal with Worried Christian Friends

 . . . Yeah, never thought I'd post that one, either.

Thing is though, I can count on one hand the number of people in my life that know I'm a witch. One of those friends, Meagan, is very, very Christian. She's also one of the most loving people I've me in the world.

So, when I told her, I figured she'd be fine. And she was . . . for the most part.

The other night, Meagan called me up, asking to talk. I was free, so I took the phone to my room, and we began chattering. Next thing I know, she wants to know if it's okay to ask me a question about 'what was in your last email'. Paganism. Hoo boy. I didn't mind in the least. Said shoot.

It turns out that, the morning before she got my email, she was in class and one of the girls had a book 'that was very witchy' (Meagan's words, and probably accurate). Meagan hadn't ever really learned much about it, so asked the girl if she'd be willing to explain it to her.

Oh, small major miracles. The girl did.

So Meagan wasn't worried about me being a devil worshipper or dancing naked under the full moon in the middle of Downtown and sacrificing babies to a 'dark god' named 'Sam Hain.' (Oh, Chick Tracts, how they lie . . . )  I tactfully left out any mention of some people's preference to worship skyclad, and the conversation went on. It turns out Meagan isn't worried at all about my beliefs. She's worried that we won't wind up in the same place when we die.

Then the tears came. I spent a half an hour on the phone with her, desperately wishing I could crawl through it and give her a hug. There was the long conversation on reincarnation and why I left Christianity and the Church behind me, and was there anything, anything she could do to convince me otherwise because, while she doesn't want me to be unhappy, she doesn't want to face an afterlife without me, either.

 . . . I said no. There wasn't. I asked too many questions to be a good Christian. I'd read to much to be happy there. I spend church services, in the front row, making origami boats out of the service booklets. I never once said 'I'm sorry' or 'I apologise,' though, and I'm pretty proud of that. I love my faith, and who I am because of it. To apologise for that? To treat it like something to be ashamed of? Yeah, I'm not the best example, I suppose - I'm in the broom closet, I don't put my beliefs out there.

But when people figure it out, I don't apologise, either. That isn't right, not in my mind. Not to it.

It's funny. I always imagined a conversation of theis kind, but it was always vastly different in my head. My imagination brought up the image of my dad's mom, my Oma, looking at me in dissapointment, or my Uncle Jon or Aunt Tammy or even my Dad treating me like a lunatic, someone clearly off their rocker. Talking like it was just a phase and I was being stupid. I expected that - Dad's opinions on the books I buy at Barnes and Noble 'because they look cool' tell me to. And oh, don't I wish that excuse didn't hold with him, that he'd actually ask me about it, what's in Scott Cunningham or Raymond Buckland or Sirona Knight or Lady Sabrina or, hey, even Silver Ravenwolf! I discount eighty percent of every word she says, but hey, it'd be a question.

It would be something.

So . . . yeah. I never ecxpected concern. Fear for me. Not my soul, not my sanity . . . me. As a friend, as someone to care about. It wasn't ever something I ever thought I'd encounter.

Is it strange that I'm sort of really glad I did?

 - Janie L.

Summertime

*Sighs* Yes, much s I may wish to pretend otherwise, summer is definitely here, and here to stay. It's bright outside, there's lots of wildflowers and the occasional tall weed overtaking my itty bitty back yard, the bees have claimed a top corner of my window and keep flying into the screen, the maple tree looks like a big, bushy upside-down broom . . .

And it's too flipping hot to enjoy any of it.

There's also the twice-a-week finding of dead butterlies in the screen room, because they fly in the open door and can't get out agin . . . even though the thing's about a jillion times their size.

*le sigh*

So . . . summer. In Florida. With the beach forty miles away.And an allergy to bees.

I am so glad I'll be going to upstate New York this summer.

Still, at the same time . . . I can't bring myself to be too upset about it. Yeah, I am now addicted to sunscreen so I look okay in my dress for the pageant this summer, but I actually tend to like summer. THe lizards keep racing across my window, and they're so cute!

If only they'd let me take a picture.

 - Janie L.

Novel Idea

Everyone's heard of calling cards, yes? So heres the idea - a coming out card. Here's the one I'll be snail-mailing my mom and dad the week after I move out:

I think it's adorable. :-) Anyone recognise where I nabbed the witch from?

Other than that . . . may I just say I LOVE the Harry Potter fandom? Wonderful fanfiction aside, the pictures are GREAT! This following especially . . .

Why is it great, you ask? Simple: Because it's true.

There's this really great freeverse on Livejournal that's been circling for a while. It's not specifically about HP, but about fandom in general. Reading through it . . . it's really true. For a lot of people, myself included, fandom shapes you. It makes you laugh, cry, examine life in ways you wouldn't before. You're taught how to think, to write, to read. You see the happy parts and the sad, and you question everything.

I wouldn't be who I am without fanfiction. It's shaped me, broken my every worldview with a thousand questions, and helped me piece it all back together again. I got into it when I was about thirteen. I'd always felt like I didn't feel enough, and sometimes I still do. But now, even though I'm still definitely cocooned from a lot of things . . . I laugh more. I cry a bit easier. I smile. A lot.

Fandom is everything and nothing, and to me it's the world. I can be myself there and always find someone of a like mind. When the books and movies came out, even when I just went by myself to the events that were held for them, I always had a friend. Sure, I generally never saw them face to face again, but somehow, and I know it's not just a Potter thing, though it's more prevalent there, a single series can bring so many people together and I've just gotta say . . . .

I love that.

 - Janie L.

(That certainly got off topic, huh?)

Would it be Better?

I've wondered . . . I still live with Mom and Dad, after all. Would it be better to be out to them, if not the rest of my family? I know Dad's side views it as stupid, and more than a bit silly. 'Magic? What a joke.' I remember a talk with Dad where he called people that didn't believe in the Christian God - even those that've never heard of him - idiots. Doomed to go to Hell.

At the same time, though . . . I like to imagine what it would be like. Me, living in an apartment in San Francisco, no secrets, with Mom and Dad still inviting me home for Christmas every year after I celebrate Yule with friends or maybe a boyfriend.

It's be nice, wouldn't it? So . . . why not make it happen sooner, let them now now, so they can get used to the idea?

Maybe I'm jaded. Dad's told me before that if I don't like his house, 'I'll call foster care for you.' I don't want that. My dad's sister doesn't have time for a kid, she travels too much. My uncle thinks it's all hooey, and his parents aren't allowed to have a minor living with them in an old folks community.

Mom's family, on the other hand? I don't see them much, but I'd like to think they're a bit more  . . . open. I got caught last summer by Gram looking into some things for Lughnassadh, and she just asked what it all meant, no derision, no suspicion or anything. It was actually kind of nice. That doesn't mean she and Poppy would be able to care for me if Dad kicked me out, though.

But what if he didn't? What if he just took all my books away, instead? Trashed my candles, my figurines? If he even knew what they were for . . . They're all over my room, looking perfectly 'normal' holding knick-knacks and things. So, maybe he's only take my books, and if he found it, my BoS. They could be replaced, or re-created. So could everything else, eventually.

The trust would be gone, though. He'd be suspicious of me, and I know I wouldn't let him in again - I've been lectured in Sunday School often enough. I know I don't forgive easily. So what to do?

I gotta say, that cross-country email is looking pretty good right now . . . But what it?

 - Janie L.

Hello all!
I've gotta say, I love the feeling you get after a ritual. Peaceful, happy . . . I can't stop grinning for half an hour. It's wonderful. :-) It's also probably the ONLY time I can meditate. Strange, perhaps, but I don't mind . . . much.

I've been looking into the different forms of witchcraft lately, and I've gotta say it's fascinating. It's not all love and light, either. Not that that's a bad thing - it has it's place, alongside the less-than-lovely aspects. Things like graveyard dirt. (that's a cue to smile) The . . . fluff, for lack of a better term, is what originally attracted me, I'll admit, but just like the whole 'deity isn't all-in-one and condemns people' is a part of it, so is 'deity isn't all fluffy goodness.' It's . . . real. Multi-faceted. Good and bad.

And I love that.

So what else is going on with me? I took SATs this morning - five long and arduous hours of need-it-for-college testing. Yuck. I'm also re-watching Xmen: Evolution, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and made a comic book . . . for Biology class. Yes, it was required, not extra credit. Boo to science teachers deciding people need to be more creative.

We DO have a REQUIRED art credit, after all. Humph. *crosses arms and pouts sulkily*

But I did it, and it's done, and I'm eagerly awaiting sponsors for National American Miss, the pageant I'm in this summer.

Wish me luck.
 - Janie L.

I Need to Stop Reading XMen Fanfiction

Seriously, the constant 'Rouge' 'Rogue' mix-up is almost as grating as the 'Lucious' 'Lucius' confusion in Harry Potter fandom. Grr . . . . *fumes*

In other news . . . I've been wondering, lately. (Nothing good ever comes of that! Oh no!) Exactly what does 'in the broom closet' mean? Does it mean not out to anybody? Or just to family? Maybe out to friends, or just a few friends, and not your family. Does it mean being out to everyone but your family?

I think it differs for most people. I had a friend in the seventh grade (first Wiccan I ever met, actually) that considered herself 'partially closeted' because no-one on her dad's side of the family knew she and her mom and dad were Wiccan. She never hid it at school or anything, though.

So what's the line? There can't be one for everbody, because no-one has the same life as someone else. I might not be considered in the closet by some - I have friends that know, after all, and I don't lock up any of my books, aside from my BoS and dream journal.(Which I very rarely remember to use anyway, but that's beside the point.) Heck, a couple people in my Chorus class know, just because I wasn't thinking and was talking openly with a friend about Beltane.(Can't wait for the fifth! It would have been nice to celebrate it yesterday, but little sisters are a pain and I couldn't get away. At least the astrological date is on a Saturday this year. Yay!)

Just something to think on.

 - Janie L.