After lots of journalism and real life, I needed a break. A charming, children's book, to be exact.
I love Elizabeth Goudge, an English writer from the last century. So rich and so spiritual in a deep soul-food kind of way.
I love reading a book by a beloved author for the first time. It's like meeting them again, but having a new conversation.
The Little White Horse is a fairy-tale, with people who come to you in dreams, ancestors whose mistakes must be remedied, enchanting animals who communicate through hieroglyphics. A vacation to England in 1845.
As I hone my writing skills, it is interesting to note the difference from when this book was published in the 1940s. Goudge sprinkles adverbs liberally, like an aunt with Easter chocolate eggs. She's not concerned at all with mental tooth decay. Her descriptions of clothes and meals are lengthy...and yet...masterful. We aren't taken out of the story. They are character descriptions all the same.
I do suggest reading this with scones and tea...for you will get hungry. I am also considering buying geraniums, which will without doubt, disgust my husband.