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Showing posts from February, 2018

Artist Spotlight - Meet Paul Nixon

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This month’s Artist Spotlightshines on Irish born, multi-talented artist, Paul Nixon.
Divas, Elementals, Fairies, Elves, Wee Folk, Sidhe, Ghosts, Witches, and Dryads are brought to life through Paul’s art as a skilled woodcarver, sculptor, and photographer.
Check out his enchanting work below, and find out more about Paul,in his own words:
As a young child, I would often stay with my grandparents who lived in a thatched cottage in the Sligo Mountains in Ireland. My grandmother believed in the fairy-world, and her stories, sometimes fearful, left a powerful impression with me. Buried close by is the grave of William Butler Yeats, a renowned Irish poet, story collector, and writer. Yeats spent much time collecting fairy stories from around this mountain range that, he too, left an impression with me.
20 years ago, my wife Francesca and I left New York to start a new life together in Greensboro, North Carolina. About 17 years ago, in an effort to make my wife's aunt Mary a gift of a wal…

Fairy Tale Flash Monday - The Princess Who Wanted Nothing and Everything

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What is the gift of nothing and everything?
There was once a beautiful princess named Epiphany who lived with her parents, the king and queen of the kingdom. The king had decided it was time for her to be married and announced that the princes of all the lands come forth to see who was worthy of his daughter’s hand. The princess did not want to marry just any prince. Epiphany wanted to marry someone who was kind. She told her father that she would only marry a young man who came offering a special present for her.

When the king asked her what she would ask from them she responded, “I want nothing and everything.”

The king was flustered but decided to go along with his daughter’s wishes. He announced alongside the queen that all possible suitors must bring a present containing nothing and everything.

Soon afterwards princes began to arrive. The first ten all brought approximately the same thing. Trunks filled with jewelry, silk dresses, gold coins, spices, and perfume were presented to Epi…

When Geography is Mythology by William Gilmer

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How did that get there? It’s an honest enough question, considering we live on a world where pieces of the ground shoot
miles into the sky, chasms form beneath our feet, and land appears in the middle of the ocean for no apparent reason. When faced with the breathtaking splendors of the world, what imagination wouldn't run wild with stories of giants and demi-gods? Physical geography is the starting place for some of the most interesting myths on the planet. These are some of my favorites, they mix cultural tradition with sheer fantasy to make a perfect slurry of folklore.


One of the best examples, and probably the one with the most landmarks to his credit, is Paul Bunyan. Paul was said to be a giant lumberjack who could chop down a forest with a single swing of his ax. His legend got its start around the logging campfires of Southern Canada, quickly spread into Michigan, and eventually the rest of the United States. Some of the landmarks he is credited with making are; The Grand Ca…

Double Fairy Tale Flash - Pennies Dropping AND Midnight

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This week, Enchanted Conversation Magazine  is featuring two Fairy Tale Flash stories: Pennies Dropping by A.M. Offenwanger and  Midnight by Fanni Sütő. We hope you enjoy them and share your thoughts with the authors of these tales in the comments section below. “So, has the penny finally dropped?” her grandmother would say bitingly. “You cannot give money away to riffraff, or you are left with nothing!”
Then Grandmother died, and she was truly left with nothing—just the cloak on her back. And that she gave to the poor woman with the baby, who sat by the side of the road shivering. The gratitude in their eyes warmed her so much, a corner of the heart that Grandmother had frozen began to thaw.

Her last piece of bread went to a beggar boy rooting through the refuse heap, and through the growling of her stomach she heard her heart singing.

An old woman with chilblains on her feet received her shoes; a blind young one, dressed in rags, her skirt. Her linen shirt, last legacy of her mother, she ga…

Fairy Tales and Social Consciousness by Kiyomi Appleton Gaines

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As story-tellers we have an obligation to tell the truth... Enchanted Conversation's contributing editor, Kiyomi Appleton Gaines, shares her thoughts on fairy tales and social consciousness. I was playing around with a story that I have been getting nice rejection letters about, and I realized that it can't be published now. At least not for a while. In it, a flood devastates an entire community. When I wrote it, the August 2017 flood hadn't happened yet here in New Orleans, nor Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, or Maria. Now the parallel, though loose, seems too close.
Too soon, I thought, re-reading it.
So away it goes, into the proverbial desk drawer for a time. Maybe when it feels okay to bring it out again, I'll know just how to tweak it for publication. At least, I am pleased to find, I still like what I wrote months ago.
As story-tellers we have an obligation to tell the truth - our truth, and greater Truth as we are able to - honestly, even when it's frightening and whe…

A Tale for Valentine's Day: Tree of Hearts by Amanda Bergloff

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Enchanted Conversation Magazine and its editors would like to wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day with this original tale by Amanda Bergloff, written exclusively for the day. Enjoy!
“And what mischief are you up to today, my sweet, my columbine?”

Nivall thought the whisper came from inside his own mind, so soft the words were, only the rustle in the leaves let him know she was really there.

“Only the type of mischief that you love best, my rose, my monkey,” he replied without turning his head, afraid that the slightest movement might make her leave.

“Then let me join you, my dear, my ardor,” Elandel said, settling herself on the branch next to him.

She laughed and small stars shook loose from her hair. Her breath was sweet and cold. It was everything he desired in this world, and he fought to hide it from her by not gazing at her directly.

“Oh look, “ she said, placing her pale hand on his dark shoulder, “down there…There is a lad who looks forlorn. Do you see? He wanders so aimlessly…