Tag Archives: fun

Once Upon a Page Three

Henry was in a fog. He couldn’t see a thing. That wasn’t quite true, he could see misty vapours all around him but nothing else. It reminded him of flying through a cloud, but he was standing still. He remembered the chest and Hugo picking the lock. Then a blinding flash and now he was fogged up.

He tried to honk, but nothing came out. Not a single sound and he frowned so hard the feathers on his face wrinkled awkwardly together. He buffeted the air with his wings and the fog swirled. Was that something just ahead of him? He buffeted some more, putting his whole strength into the effort and the mists cleared.

Where had the cave gone? He was on a tall wooden post. Below him was the fog swirling around three feet below his webbed toes. He couldn’t tell what was underneath that dense cloud.

To Henry’s right was the Orang-Utan, Nicholas. In one of his hands was the inevitable bag of peanuts. But he wasn’t eating, his eyes were shut and his lips quivered as if he was in a deep sleep. On the left Hugo the Rat wobbled on the still post and his eyes looked manically at the fog beneath. He was gripping the sides of his post so tightly his claws had embedded themselves in the wood. Of course his balance was gone without his tail and he would be sacred of falling. Hugo noticed henry watching him and made a conscious effort to stiffen his resolve, he looked more at ease but his claws gouged deeper into the wood.

Then the posts started to sway, gently back and forward. Henry tried to honk and flapped his wings. Maybe he should take to the air, but he found he couldn’t. Something invisible was keeping him attached to the post. Angrily he flapped harder, stray feathers flying from his wings, but still he couldn’t take off. Now the post was moving more rapidly and had started a swirling motion. How was this part of a wish? Henry swore he would return to that sage in the village and give her what-for. This was a trick! It was nothing to do with finding his honk. His fury building Henry felt a force building up inside him until, with a blast, he opened his beak and honked what felt like the biggest honk he had ever done. It felt magnificent! Only there was no sound.

Something inside him snapped. An inner tension he didn’t know had been there and he relaxed. The post was still moving and increasing the orbit of its swing, but now he felt able to go with the flow and just used his wings to balance with the minimum of effort.

He looked over to the others to see how they were coping.

Nicholas was hanging on with one hand his body was off the post and was rotating out from the wooden structure until he was almost horizontal. His other hand still clutched his precious bag of peanuts with as much strength and determination as he gripped the post. To Henry it didn’t look good. Any second the Orang-Utan would be flung out into the fog and who knew what fate would have in store for him then. He would be better holding on with two hands, but his greed for the peanuts wouldn’t let him.

Hugo the Rat was in no better condition. Without his tail his balance was poor anyway and with the whirling post it looked desperate for the rodent. He had his eyes closed tight as if resisting the urge to cry with all his will.

Why was this happening to them? What had this to do with wisdom and helping them find their wishes? It didn’t seem right, not obviously at least, but a niggling thought had started to run around in Henry’s head, released when his inner tension had snapped. Maybe this wasn’t about being given their wishes, but finding their own answers.

When he considered Hugo and what he knew of his new friend it was obvious that his biggest flaw was his pride. He was a preening rat who thought too much of himself. The loss of his tail had been such a blow to him but he couldn’t see past that to enjoy the rest of what he had in life. Although these thoughts seemed right, Henry couldn’t see how he could help his friend in their current situation.

Nicholas was different. His problem was his greedy need for the peanuts. It was so big a greed he wouldn’t share and now he was in grave danger because he couldn’t and wouldn’t let go of the bag to hang on properly to the swirling post. If only Henry could tell him, maybe he could save his friend, but he couldn’t honk and he couldn’t talk.

Then it came to him. His own fault. He had always been angry when he lost his honk, telling himself it was because he couldn’t help others, but it had been in own inner pride in his beautiful honking that had been the real issue. He couldn’t bear to have lost that. Now that didn’t matter. The anger had gone with the snap. He would try and try to help his friends starting with Nicholas.

Gathering every ounce of will power Henry pooled all his heart and soul into talking. The motion of the post was actually comforting as he built his resolve to its peak.

“Nicholas!” He shouted in as clear a honk as he had ever made, “You have to let go of your peanuts and hold on with two hands. We’ll find you some more once we are free.”

Nicholas looked startled to hear the goose talking and his grin spread across his face like dripping waves of honey as only an Orang-Utan’s could. His eyes cleared and mirth shone out. With a laugh that echoed, Nicholas let go of the bag and swung both hands around the post. Turning the twirling into a game rather than a peril.

“Thanks Goose!” He called.

“It’s Henry, Nicholas. Now we have to help Hugo.”

“I’ll do that.” The Orang-Utan promised and laughed again, just for the joy of it.

The rat was staring at them both. His black fur was turning white with fear as his post swung more and more erratically. In fact his and Nicholas’s posts were swinging so far out they were only a few feet apart when their orbits aligned.

“Hugo. You’ll have to trust me.” Nicholas called to his friend. “Next time we swing close you must let go. I’ll catch you with my feet and keep you safe.”

“No. I can’t! Without my tail I can’t control myself!”

“You can. Just trust yourself. You can do this.” The Orang-Utan encouraged him.

“Yes. It’s your pride blinding you that holds you back. You are more than just a tail.” Henry honked. “Do this and you’ll feel better, you’ll see!”

Hugo didn’t look convinced and now the posts were gathering more speed.

“If you don’t, it’ll be too late!”

The rat was wailing now and Nicholas was talking softly encouraging him. As the swinging posts came closer Nicholas opened his toes out clearly getting ready to catch Hugo. The rat’s eyes looked wild as he nodded and just as their orbits coincided he let go of his post and flew through the air.

Nicholas’s laughter boomed out as he stretched his toes and nimbly caught his friend.

“Hurray!” Honked Henry and he flapped his wings fast together, not in anger, but applauding his friends. And all of a sudden he was flying, released from his post.

The fog underneath them cleared and they saw the ground was only inches below. With a whoop of joy Nicholas cartwheeled up and flipped Hugo into his arms, landing with such elegance his rippling skin looked perfectly in tune with life.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Hugo breathed out, his eyes clear and joyful. “I was really scared there. I wouldn’t have survived without you both.”

Henry looked at his rat friend and then at Nicholas. He motioned with his eyes and the Orang-Utan gaze followed the prompt. They realised the sage had been right after all.

Nicholas laughed. “And the end of this tale is … I have found my laughter, Henry his honk and you Hugo, my friend, you have your tail back too!”

Once Upon a Page

Firstly I would like to apologise for missing my deadline last month. I would like to say it was because I was away on a much needed family holiday, or that my right arm has been out of commission due to repetitive strain from writing too much in awkward positions, or that writing my latest story for the Everlasting Fantastical Adventures took most of my time and inspiration up, but no excuse is ample or totally correct. Let’s just say I had a sabbatical and am now back.
This month’s piece has turned into the start of a bigger story with part one below …
ONCE UPON A PAGE there were three animals who went on an urgent quest into a deep dark cave. Each one determined to find something they had lost that was very dear to them.

First was Henry, a snow white goose who had had his honk stolen during a flight through a winter storm by a mischievous wind spirit. He had chased the spirit but lost it in the thickest part of the blizzard. A goose without a honk is a sad thing, every time he tried to warn his flock when a stranger approached he looked silly and ended up in a flap. Since then the other geese laughed at him and, what was worse, he couldn’t honk back.

The second was Nicholas, a jovial orang-utan who had misplaced his laugh when eating his way through a field of peanuts. He had searched and searched, opening as many shells as he could, but his laughter was gone. Now when he told a joke all he could raise was a smile and he felt his world was dull without his belly laugh that could shake the trees.

Last was Hugo, a big black-haired rat who went to sleep on New Year’s Eve and woke up the next morning incomplete. It had been dark in the sewer that night and there had been a troop of young rats from the local University prowling around. It was true Hugo had eaten a stash of overripe plums he had found which made him woozy, but he had felt nothing else that night. He had woken up without his tail, a limb no self-respecting rat could do without. His balance, coordination and his dignity were beyond repair.

The three had met in a market place in the town of Everhope on the outskirts of Wishful County. The market was the home of a famous Sage. Each had come to ask about their dilemmas. The Sage had listened to all three animals. She had told them they must go to the mountain of Faith nestled on the edge of the world to find their answers and that all three must undertake this journey together.

Half way up the mountain was a cave. A deep and lonely place in which was hidden a magical chest. If they could unlock the chest then their wishes would be granted. Without any arguments they decided to follow the Sage’s instructions and set out that same afternoon. Three days and three nights they toiled through torturous weather across the wilds. Each finding out something about the others during the hard journey. Now they had arrived and were standing on the brink.

“So this is the place.” Hugo peered into the gloom. “Looks spooky to me …” he said doubtfully, “and I like damp dark places.”

“-”, honked Henry, or rather didn’t. He buffeted his wings and shook his neck from side to side.

“Hugo, I think the goose wants to tell us something.” Nicholas scratched his chin. They hadn’t found out Henry’s name as his honk was gone and he couldn’t write.

“No doubt.” Hugo shrugged. “ What is it, Goose?”

“-”. Henry said silently. His white face and beak beginning to turn red with anger. The Orang-utan and the Rat exchanged blank looks.

“Maybe we should play charades?” Nicholas suggested.

“We tried that already, remember?” Hugo shook his head too quickly and almost fell over. He really missed his tail.

“When we were crossing that stream and the goose tried to tell us something. It didn’t work, so he lost his temper and took off in a flap. Landed on the other side without a care. He was so upset he wouldn’t help either of us across. We got all wet and cold just because I laughed at his antics.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have.” Nicholas grimaced, his eyes flat and his wrinkly face looked all lopsided and wrong. “I’m sure he was only trying to help us.”

“We’ll never know.” Hugo sniggered, “unless we find that Chest of Wishes.” He liked to snigger. It was a very ratty thing to do and he found himself sniggering a lot more now than he did before he lost his tail. With a quick glance at the other two to make sure they would follow, Hugo stepped into the cave.

“Come on, Goose. You know Hugo doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just like any other rat.” Nicholas held one long arm out to the bird.

“No I’m not!” Hugo snapped over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop to argue. He did not dare to turn in case he fell over. Henry flapped once and then gentle pressed his wingtip into the offered hand of Nicholas. Together they followed the rat into the gloom.
To be continued…

Spring in the Air

The sun gleamed bright as a diamond. The light spears reflecting all the colours of spring from the water droplets around my wrist. I was warm at last, after months of frozen isolation I was bubbling with joy. I stretched out further and touched a stick. It had fallen from a nearby tree, a silver birch and its bark was like a wrapping of the precious metal, smooth and glistening. I held it firmly in my grasp, feeling its strength. It would make a good staff for me to use.
I looked deeper into my too familiar glade searching for something different, something new. But my world was one which had not changed for more time than I cared to think about. Bathed in spring sunlight the trees and bushes glowed with awakening life. Buds of fresh green leaves bursting slowly from their winter sleep. Insects were busying themselves in the search for food. The same scenes replayed every year and my heart trembled with my need for something … more. I wanted adventure.
I remembered my life before when I had soared through the skies and raced other girls of my kind over high mountains and vast forests. Those days had seemed like they would never end and yet, here I was in this tiny corner of the woods which had become my world, except for those memories, or were they dreams? It was so hard to tell any more. I felt trapped and unsure. I needed to get out of here.
The bushes rustled and my attention focussed back to the present. A young male dear stepped nervously into the sunlight. The white spots on his back announcing his tender years. I wondered where his mother was. This youngster was too new to the world to be without his parents.
“Don’t be afraid. Take a drink. You’ll feel better and I will watch out for you.” I assured him and tentatively he stepped nearer and lowered his head to drink.
I laughed. A tinkling sound which caused his ears to start up, but he kept on drinking.
“See, that’s much better, isn’t it?” I murmured soothingly and his ears relaxed their guard. “Where’s your parents?” I wondered aloud.
“I don’t know.” His hide shivered. A rippling spasm of uncertainly and fear. “Thanks for the water.”
“You are welcome.” I gripped the stick and stood up tall.
The young dear startled, jumping clear of the pool’s edge and landed quivering several feet from me. His milky eyes bulging and unsure.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
The fawn didn’t move and I reached out my hand towards him. I felt his breath rush in and out quickly as he took my scent. I tickled the end of his nose and it gleamed wetly.
“See … I mean you no harm.” I laughed. A thought pushed its way into my mind. Maybe this young dear could help me and I could help him. “Would you like me to help you find your parents?”
“Yes, I’d like that,” The fawn licked his wet nose and smiled, “but how could you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. The fawn’s question seemed ridiculous.
“Well, you are made of water so how could you leave this spring?”

This month I have added another column to the list and included a theme category.

Die Rolls Characters Traits Conflict Location Object  Theme
1 Maiden Prone Conquest Hills Weapon Comedy
2 Animal Forceful Illness Cavern Treasure Love
3 Spirit Hyper Dark Agent Ocean Bed Mystery
4 Fantastical Talkative New World Waterfall Stick Fantasy
5 Girl Athletic Self-doubt Spring Bread History
6 Boy Adventurer Disability Plains Chicken Tragedy


For March’s efforts we will have …

                Character = Animal

                Trait = Talkative

               Conflict = Disability

               Location = Cavern

              Object = Treasure

Theme = Comedy

What will emerge?

A Supernatural Short Story

This month’s short story prompts were …

Character – Short, Supernatural,

Traits – Arrogant, Curious,

Conflict – Weather

Location – Forest

 Objects – Message and Vehicle

 I hope you enjoy this tale.

Trouble at halloween …

The rain pelted past the trees, thudding on my skin like I was a drum.

“BLARRR! Enough, foul weather!”

I move under an oak tree, pressing myself up against its trunk. Just as well my skin‘s so tough the rough bark was just a small annoyance, much less than the thudding rain. Here I was, trapped in the forest. Trying to get back to my garden in time for the midnight feast. But time and the weather were conspiring against me.The incessant drumming was hurting my head so much I couldn’t even rhyme.

It was the squirrels fault of course. If he hadn’t stolen all the chocolates I wouldn’t have had to chase him into the depths of the woods. The squirrel had scampered for his drey thinking he would be safe to scoff all the treats, but he hadn’t factored in me. I suppose he didn’t get to see me most of the year; I only come out on Halloween.

When I fired my stream of seeds and pulp at the wee thing he had jumped out of his skin. His tail standing out like a pine tree, stiff and smelly. He didn’t moved a muscle as I collected up the treats, hiding them away and his eyes had popped when I blew  a last noisy rasping raspberry. That had been fun!

With the treats in my  possession I set out to return to the garden. But on my way back the storm hit hard. Buffeting winds, thudding rain, extraordinarily nasty weather. Things would have been fine if it had been blustering in the opposite direction, but no, that would have been too easy. All of that horrible wet windiness was set to blow right up my nostrils as I flew home. It was almost blew my lights out.

What was that? I thought I heard something; a message on the wind.

There it is again! I can hear someone calling. It must be the children. They want to see me! Etching my features in a grimace, I prepare to face the pelting raindrops. I am needed and nothing but death can stop me. As I launch myself out from the trees, a few choice words pop into my head.

The rain is fierce with hasty schemes,

               It batters my mind with nasty dreams,

               But weather won’t cause me inner shame,

               Long will burn my internal flame.

I race through the air, skirting around branches and over logs. Lightning strikes stab me and thunder rages. The rhymes inside have inflamed my spirit and I feel invincible. Around me sizzling rain flashes past in streaks of orange as my fires roar higher and higher.

I hear the children again. Their shouts growing larger, “Uppity Mister Pumpkin Head! Uppity Mister Pumpkin Head!”

With a final push I scream out of the storm. Silver lightning carves the sky in two behind me as a great rolling thunderous echo erupts from the clouds. I have defeated them and they are annoyed.

But what’s this? The children’s faces are full of terror! Silence grips them as they stare at me. My light spills out, filling their eyes. My inner flames blaze with the strikes of the midnight clock. It’s Halloween and the supernatural stalks the night.

With a laughing rush I soar over their heads, making them duck and dive. As I pass just above them I pour out my treats; chocolates and candies galore. All the flavours of Halloween and the children cheer for more!

 

 

For next month’s tale, here is the prompts… (only one of each category – I will set up a new box to use from January onwards)

Character – Tall
Traits – Quiet
Conflict – Money
Location – City
Objects – Horn

 

I hope you all have a wonderful and rewarding Festive Season. May Health Wealth and Happiness surrounding you all like the treats from Uppity Mister Pumpkin Head in the coming year.

 

Cheers,

Grumphspawn!

 

“Uppity Mister Pumpkin Head”- is a character from the “Everlasting Fantastical Adventures” and is protected by Copyright. Please ensure you have the author’s permission before any replication of this blog post.

A Journey’s End

Everything felt bone dry. The sand under my feet, the scorching air around me and, most especially, the skull watching me from the top of the dune. This was why I was here. It had taken too many arid days to locate. Now it was almost within my reach… yet still a world away. I was tired, so very tired, I wasn’t sure I had the strength, or the heart left to finish this.

The sun flamed on, red-hot, merciless. The sand became a sea of glass beneath my worn out shoes. My long years hung on my frame like shackles, each step harder, more painful. I felt ancient, every joint aching deep into my shrinking marrow.

I had always been a curious soul, questing from place to place. Thinking back, it was my curiosity which had caused me all this trouble. If I hadn’t wanted to cross the desert, I wouldn’t have had my world ripped apart.

They said no one crossed the desert, it couldn’t be done. No…worse, it shouldn’t be done. Folk like us, just don’t do that sort of thing. It’s too dangerous and our bones don’t travel well. I didn’t argue, just up and walked out one night, without telling a soul.

I had been fine under my hat, until the vulture. Its brim had shielded me from the worst of the sun during the festering days. But the scavenger had swooped and now it was gone. Without my hat I knew I’d turn to dust in this remorseless oven. Maybe they had been right, maybe I should never have crossed the desert.

Stumbling, I persisted. Finally reaching the beach. Now my curiosity came down to this one last thing. The answer to my ultimate question which I hoped would make me complete.

I paused, wiping my ribs. I had long since stopped sweating, there was no moisture left, not for years. It was as if I had shed most of my skin. My chest hair was brittle, like withered grass. A gentle zephyr crackled my hair. The tang of the sea taunting me. All that water out there and yet I knew I couldn’t drink a drop. My eternal thirst would never be quenched by seawater.

The skull’s eyes were deep shadows, impassive, without compassion. There was no emotion inside, only logic. Cool and calculating.

I stretched my fingers up, grasping the skull. It felt light and airy.

I raised it high above me.

With a sigh I lowered the skull.

A shudder rattled my bones as life raced through me again. With a laugh of delight I moved my head from side to the side testing my neck. It was a perfect fit. I was whole again.

Now all I had to do was find my hat …

And for next month’s piece we have

                Characters = Hairy and Fit,

                Traits = Kind and Greedy,

               Conflict = Love,

               Location = Ocean,

              Objects = Ruby and Vehicle,

I wonder what will come to me?           Anyone else want a shot?

Stretching the Mind

From this month I thought we’d do something a little different.

Every author needs to keep expanding their skills. We need to stretch ourselves to keep in the best condition. That being said, Liz (my wife) suggested using Story Creation Blocks to randomly select some elements for a short story. The idea is to come at it with no preconceptions, just let the grey matter work it out with just these hints.

Next month I will post my first piece (on or around the 12th). Any comments will be welcome  and if others want to post their musings, I will pass on my thoughts.

So how do we do this? Simple.

The Story Creation Blocks are easy to follow.

Die Rolls Characters(twice) Traits(twice) Conflict(once) Location(once) Object(twice)
1 Short Quiet Disease Mountains Horn
2 Hairy Greedy Money Forest Message
3 Supernatural Curious Love Beach Hat
4 Old Hungry Weather Ocean Ruby
5 Tall Arrogant Journey City Vehicle
6 Fit Kind Loss Desert Skeleton

For me in the coming month I shall write a short piece (around 500 words) using the hints

OLD, HAIRY, CURIOUS, QUIET, JOURNEY, BEACH, SKELETON & HAT

Wish me luck!

Taking over

Well its another Monday morning and I find myself wondering where the last week went. Between life the universe and everything time just flies by. So where do i find the time to write? I must have at some juncture as I have over eighteen thousand new words on file for the next project.

To be honest the thoughts and characters I am living with don’t go away, they are there all the time. You know all those moments of daydreams when life’s pressures allow you the space? Well they are taken over now by the characters. Sometimes its Grumphspawn who can be a bit of a grumpybum and very demanding, or Rodger Meles (a talking  badger) who’s curiosity is hard to contain. But equally demanding are both the Twelve Toed Ugly Troll (he likes to go on the rampage) and Shehalogon the Grimlee (pulling strings and setting traps in the shadows of my mind).

All in all, I find that the stories and characters are taking over, filling the cracks and gaps in daily life and gate crashing my dreams.

So when people ask me where do I find the time to write, its an easy one to answer. I am living full time with my stories and sometimes I even get a chance to put some of it on  file.

Just as well I enjoy it all really.

 

 

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Who am I and what am I writing?

Hi
I’m Sean and this is my new author’s info site (hence the name). In it you can find out what I am and my myriad characters are up to.

My Photo

You can also find out about other authors and their work. I hope you enjoy visiting. 

 

My Bio: Born in Scarborough and fortunate to grow up in different parts of Europe, finally finishing school in the Kingdom of Fife. The Author first went to St Andrews University, but preferred adventure so spent the next 20+ years as a Salty-Seadog sailing the Oceans and being fascinated by its wonders.

Finally he ‘swallowed-the-anchor’ and came ashore as a Management Consultant.
Married to Liz with two kids. They live in Scotland and look forward to entertaining youngsters of all ages in the years ahead.

 

1. What am I working on? Currently I am writing a series of books with the working title of the Everlasting Fantastical Adventures. The books are about an adventurous place where two children go to escape from the rules and restrictions of their parents and other interfering adults. The tales take them deep into this other reality which is filled with a variety of characters such as a talking Badger called Rodger Meles who knows where the best fun to be had is; a Twelve Toed Ugly Troll who doesn’t yet have a name and is totally troublesome; and a Great Wizard called Grumphspawn who likes fireworks, but is otherwise quite a grumpybum. The stories are for middle grade readers, though I am lucky to have quite a few adult fans around the world from earlier versions of the tales.

2. How does my work differ from others in the genre? All writers live in a world created from their own experiences and learning. Each will be different. It’s the ability to fully reveal those inner thoughts and visions in a way best accessible to the readers that set the great writers apart. There are two main characters in my stories, a brother and sister, who venture into a different reality. A place with many characters and an abundance of magic, all in the background of danger as the influence of the alien race of Grimlees disturbs the peace and harmony in this Land of Dreams.

3. Why do I write what I do? For fun, adventure and the characters I have in my head won’t let me write anything else until they have had their day, especially Grumphspawn the Great Wizard and Shehalogon the Grimlee.

I started writing just to make a better connection with my own kids as I do travel a lot, even now. The stories always bring us closer together and they often ask to read the latest episodes I’ve written. It’s a wonderful feeling to see the look on your own kids’ faces as they enjoy the stories.

4. How does my writing process work? I am an unconventional writer. I had no literary background, being a seafarer and adventurer by nature. I even won an award for the Worst Writing in primary 7, in front of the whole school. A strange day I’ll never forget, but I didn’t let that stop me. I have done a lot of work and research, particularly with the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) in the last three years.

Now before I write I always visualise, like I am running through a movie set in my mind. I believe that writing is a link between the conscious and the subconscious, a mixture between the science and the art of it if you will. This is something that each writer does in a way which is unique to them.

I have always been a dreamer and my first quote (in a school magazine from Malta) was “I enjoy school, because I get to take trolls in my pocket”. Nothing more needs to be said about that.

Often when I write the world just fades into the background, once I remember sitting down to type when I was in Alexandria, Egypt. I wrote for what I thought was a couple of hours, but when I checked my watch, ten hours had flown by. This was quite a shock to my stomach and it protested loudly, as you can imagine. This ability to shut out what is around me means I can write almost anywhere, I just have to remember to set an alarm if there’s an appointment I need to attend.

I am about to start work on what I hope is the ultimate version of the stories, probably a twelve book series.

Wish me luck please!

 

 

For other author’s blogs please follow these links.

http://www.christinabanach.com

I’m Christina Banach, author of Minty and other young adult fiction. I’m in a state of excitement right now because it’s only a few weeks until Minty is published. Here is what Helen Bryant of Three Hares has to say about the book:

Minty is one of the most moving books for YA I’ve read in a long time. It’s a real weepy from start to finish but with heart and warmth at the core. It’s a cross between The Lovely Bones (without the grim murder) and Ghost and it stays with you long after you’ve finished the book.