I’m re-reading the Neverending Story, which is a bit of a misnomer because I apparently came to its end at some point in the past. I don’t know if all editions of the book are as meta as the one I own. The text alternates between maroon and green ink, just like the book in the story, indicating which parts are from the book Bastian is reading and which are Bastian’s outside world. And it also has these great full-page illustrations for the first letter of each chapter, which happen to go through the entire alphabet, A to Z, just like the “real” book. I haven’t tried yelling out “Moon Child” to see if I am swept off to a fantasy realm of luck dragons and rock biters.

I first read it some time after seeing the movie as a child. I was as engrossed in the tale as Bastian. Indeed, I even got hungry when Bastian did and felt what he felt. I was enraptured with the thought of magical books that were somehow aware of their readers and could change over time. I imagined how I could create such a book. I remember becoming interested in finding just the right sort of blank book with properly enchanted paper stock.

The movie is a fairly faithful adaptation of the first half of the book. What the movie doesn’t tell you is that after he saves Fantastica (or Fantasia, as it is called in the film) from the Nothing, Bastian becomes a mostly pompous dick. At least at the part I’m at now. He has the power to remake the world as he sees fit and he sets himself up as a total badass with ultimate authority over all he sees. I’m assuming this is all leading to a lesson in staying true to yourself.

In other news, I attended a writer’s meetup. Again, I’m getting out, meeting new people with whom I might have something in common. We met at a coffee house and read brief excerpts from three of the attendees. This was followed by a round of constructive criticism. I managed to stave off an entirely judgmental attitude and contributed suggestions that were well received. Perhaps I am growing as a person. 😉