My Review of The Land Without Color by Benjamin Ellefson

The Land Without Color
by Benjamin Ellefson
Illustrated By Kevin Cannon
Paperback, 168 pages
Published December 15th 2015 by Beaver’s Pond Press

The Land Without Color certainly is an ambitious work, creatively imagined, that succeeds very well in drawing the reader into a fast moving adventure and a magical world. It is not short on many surprises and clever twists in the plot line. I expected that the theme was about diversity but found much more. There were many insightful sub-themes that are relevant and tie into the main theme very well. A lot is very educational as with clever allegory in an adventure written for children the author explores how responsibility and authority can become corrupted. A ruler who is made dependent on others in turn makes his subjects dependent on him in a conspiracy with layers of deception that is slowly unraveled by an adventurous boy who feels he must right all the wrongs.

 

The segue however between chapters one and two when the story changes from boys asking a grandfather for a scissors to cut fishing line to the grandfather waking up as a little boy to begin his adventure in a flashback seemed a little awkward. As an adult I felt confused as to whether this was the grandfather now young or a grandson with the same name. I can imagine this would be confusing for awhile for a child to read. I got it after a little while and then the adventure started to flow better. Upon second reading I wasn’t sure how exactly this problem should be resolved.

 

In this story a young boy finds himself in a world with police and guardsmen who don’t make any sense and people who go around with their heads unattached because they feel that thinking just gets in the way of getting practical things done. I must say this reminds me of Alice In Wonderland in which a normal girl finds herself in a world of characters who make no sense. I find the writing style here is more like the Oz stories and the political implications are similar.

 

The boy, Alvin, finds allies with a talking squirrel who it turns out is female and a talking bi-lingual mouse who speaks in Spanish and English. The mouse warns the boy not to eat the free candy or ice cream that is considered to be “free color” because he says it is “empty color”. Upon being thrown into prison by the king who has been turned into a turtle the companions encounter a man who is in prison for growing his own vegetables which is considered to be illegal color. Everyone in the kingdom has been told that goblins who live on the other side of the Shadow Mountains have been stealing the color from the land which has mainly turned gray. This turns out not to be true as the conspiracies and deceptions unravel. The adventurous boy meets with the goblin king and finds that he is actually a nice guy and the goblins would never do anyone harm. They, also, do not have the power to pull off such an insidious plan either. Do you see the relevant themes in their complexity at work here?

 

This is an amazingly great, fantasy story in that as it unravels there is a rich past history to draw upon that fleshes the story out. I am in awe of the work that went into the conception of this story. The illustrations as well do justice to this work of literature that could become one of the greats in literature for children. This is why it makes great reading for an adult as well. It is very thought provoking. I could see a child growing with this story instead of outgrowing it. I could, also, see this story being turned into a full length animated film that could be very popular.

 

I wasn’t going to nitpick about the grammar problems. I wasn’t going to mention anything about my pet peeve of unnecessary commas separating dependent clauses and worse yet even being used to separate prepositional phrases. I understand that the new grammar people are being taught these days gets people to use the idea that wherever there would be a pause in speaking or reading a sentence a person should put in a comma. This is used by people who have never diagrammed a sentence as a crutch when it comes to understanding comma placement. After awhile the grammar problems kept increasing and I see they would even be distracting to a child or anyone trying to read this story. I found a preposition and a word transposed in the reverse order of how they should have read. Although a sentence can go without a verb if in the context of the paragraph the verb is understood I found a sentence in which a necessary verb was completely missing. I even found a word with the same preposition before and after it. It became obvious that the problems were beyond disagreement about style and there are definitely problems concerning editing and even simple proof reading.

 

Except for the awkward segue at the beginning however the continuity even with all the intricacies of the plot unraveling is excellent. The Land Without Color rings with greatness in a way that is modern and yet classic. I would recommend it (with some improvements) to children between the ages of eight and ten very much. The hard work that is evident in this otherwise, well crafted book should not go to waste and I am hopeful that with just a little editing and proof reading The Land Without Color will go on to become one of the greats in children’s literature! By the way now I see that just one sentence at the end of chapter one would solve the problem with the awkward transition to the flashback and help to tie the story together better with the ending!

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1645971581

New Poem: The Ugly Bird

Old Man Downsized

Male, white supremacy is an ugly bird
It rears its head at childbirth as this truth comes to be heard
Doted on, spoiled and privileged so how would a small child
know?
In ignorance carefully taught with words and imitation
That men are superior to women in every situation
Girls are emotional, Feminine is silly and frivolous
Men only are obviously fit to rule, stoic and without emotion

Those who complain of discrimination and harassment are
obviously losers
This world is a tough place, there’s no room for the weak and
complainers
As they’ve been taught with their high school jock mentality
Say you’ve had a hard life, they’ll say, “I think everyone has”
Point out to them they have advantages and privileges
They’ll say, “What does it matter?”
It only means that people have to try harder                                                    If it’s that bad just find another job, that’s always the solution

Secure in their minds that old, white men in dark suits, the only
ones fit to lead are taking care of everything
If they’re put in a situation where they are treated equal
They cry reverse discrimination to tilt everything back in their
favor

With no ambition, confidently waiting for their parents to die
So that with an inheritance they will be richly rewarded
Their friends convince them the key to happiness is avoiding
responsibility
Convinced of their superiority and that all they have
is through their own hard work and ingenuity
Don’t mention to them the hard work of their wives
or their faces will grow red with anger
Getting in good with the bosses is the key to an easy life
When confronted with tough issues
They switch to talking about sports, something important
When workers stick up for their rights
They know whose side they’re on
And make it a race issue with divide and conquer tactics

Insecure about their own social position, unhappy with their
lives
Lashing out with jealousy, any reason to hate to justify what is
done
If their self esteem is hurt, simply drop more bombs
So they can watch it on their televisions
And cheer with glee and they can gloat

This ugly bird consumes the nest, worries the mother
And feeds upon the young
War is peace, Love is hate and Ignorance is bliss
Just as the book of prophecy says

 

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The Spider Lady: Episode Two

Spider Lady

Description: “An older woman tries to cast a seduction spell on a young taxi driver who tries to break her spell with poetry in this creative non-fiction work of horror and mystery.”

The Spider Lady: Continued from: https://markalbertoyodernunez.wordpress.com/2016/04/25/the-spider-lady-episode-one/

The next time I got this call everything seemed as the
previous time. I pulled up behind the old car in the driveway
thinking the same thoughts, that she must drive this car even
though it always appeared as if it never moved. I walked along
the front porch to her door, the dark green, waxy leaves of the
vines to my right. She asked me to come in the same as before
and I waited on the same couch with its ornate looking
cushions as she went to get her checkbook.

As I looked about me, seated on the couch, examining
everything very critically I thought that nothing was worn,
everything seemed perfect but everything seemed old. The
horrible smell came to my nostrils again. The smell kept
growing stronger. I wondered where the smell had been
before. I looked at the open sheet music on the piano. I
thought to myself that the music I was looking at must be
weird, depressing, classical music. I realized everything was
set up. Everything that was happening was well planned. This
was only obvious.

I kept smelling the smell, trying to analyze what it could be
and why it was here in this weird and cluttered but pristine
looking place but the only thing I could think of was that it
smelled like Death. It was warm and stuffy. I just wanted to
get outside, away from the smell. She reappeared, wrote out
the check and I was released to go outside.

I walked outdoors. The fresh, sweet, summer night air
seemed intoxicating. It was very dark. I walked along the
corridor with the ivy to my left. I thought I felt more lucid
because it seemed cool compared with the warm stuffiness of
the house when suddenly there was a pale, ghostly stickiness
and a gauzy halo all around in my hair. I was still walking and
reflexively threw up my arms and hands realizing I had walked
right through spider’s webs. I was scared. I walked more
quickly sweeping away spider’s webs from my hair, neck and
shoulders, afraid there might be spiders on me. I swept the
back of my neck and down into my shirt collar. As I reached
the steps I was thinking over and over how it could be possible
that I just walked along that porch and along the same path and
on the way back there was so much spider’s webs. I thought
how could a spider spin so many intricate, gauzy webs so
quickly. The spider’s webs weren’t old and dusty. In fact they
smelled fresh.

As my feet were placed firmly on the pavement of the
driveway I felt young, confident, lucid and virile. I walked
towards the taxi, observing it and walked around the back of it
examining every detail to make sure everything was safe and
normal. Everything seemed safe.

I opened the door of the taxi and proceeded to get in,
stepping in with my right leg and sliding my body on the seat
while my left foot was still on the ground. I reached my left
hand to pull the open door closed after me when I saw it!
There was a black spider, the size of the palm of my hand on
the cuff of my shirt sleeve looking right at me, directly into my
eyes. It wasn’t fuzzy at all but had a smooth body that was
completely black. Thinking without words in an instant
because there wasn’t time to think with words I realized I had
to move left, out of the taxi, for fear of brushing off the spider
so that it would fall into my cab where it would run and hide.
Then it could attack me later as I was driving. I was afraid the
beast would run up my shirt sleeve and attack me. I moved
instantly to my left to push myself up and out of the taxi and to
brush the thing away. As soon as I moved at all to my horror
the large, black spider instantly raced up my arm at lightning
speed, still looking directly into my eyes with a passion
resembling extreme anger. I brushed with hand and was
vertical with all my weight on my left leg, pulling my right leg behind me from the vehicle. The spider had disappeared.

I wasn’t sure where it was. I was convinced it had fallen
outside of the cab as I stood in the now cooler but still warm
night. I got scared and started brushing all around my hair,
neck and shoulders, all over my body and started looking
around me. I decided to be logical and with the interior light
on and with my flashlight I inspected everywhere to make sure
the horrible beast wasn’t inside my cab. Still not sure, I pulled
the cab out and resumed my night shift. No spider attacked
me. I left the interior light on for awhile.

Continued on:

https://markalbertoyodernunez.blog/2019/07/24/the-spider-lady-episode-three/

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A Story For Mother’s Day: The Grandmother

Grandmother

 

The little boy was in his grandmother’s kitchen eating milk
and cookies.
He solemnly looked down at his plate of cookies as he sat at
the kitchen table.

He came to his grandmother’s house every day after school for
milk and cookies before going to the library to do his
homework.
His grandmother was busy in the kitchen, washing and drying
dishes.
She had her back to the grandson, busy with her work.
“Grandma”, she heard the little boy say.
“Yes”, the grandmother said while drying a baking pan.
“What’s wrong with girls?” the grandson asked.
“What do you mean?” replied the grandmother.
The little boy was still looking down at the table.
“When I go to the library these girls sit at a table near me and
they tease me”, the boy said.
The grandmother stopped what she was doing. She turned
around to look at the grandson, leaning back against the
kitchen sink and looked thoughtfully at the little boy.
The boy had never looked up from the table and was solemnly
chewing a piece of cookie.
After a pause the grandmother said, “Maybe the reason they
tease you is because they like you”.
The little boy continued to eat his cookies and drink his milk in
silence.
Then the boy stood up, put on his backpack with his
schoolbooks inside and scurried toward the door.
The grandmother turned around to watch him and said, “Where
are you going?”
The grandson stopped at the edge of the open, back door
without looking back. After a few seconds he said, “I’m going
to the library!”

He darted out the back door, jumped from the back door steps
and ran round to the side of the house to let himself out the
gate. He ran through the front yard to the sidewalk happily on
his way to study at the library!

 

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New Poem: Diana, The Huntress

Diana Downsize 2

Diana, the Huntress, walks in the ancient forest, stalking
And where she walks is silence
Poised and stealthy, silent as the ancient forest, itself
Disturbing not the dried leaves or breaking even a single twig
Ever vigilant, aware
Senses heightened
The silence of Her stealth
And the silence of the ancient forest are as one and the same
In the time of Her stalking
For Diana, the Huntress is hunting
And there is no prey
For Diana is a Goddess
Everywhere She hardly touches
The air barely feels Her breathing
As she moves through ancient ferns
Beneath ancient trees, along paths long forgotten
The mightiest of the forest revere Her and are humble
As She reaches for Her arrow and pulls it from Her quiver
In one graceful movement She fits the arrow to the bow
She draws back on the arrow
Bowstring taut as tawny muscle and sinew
She pauses, intent
The universe stands still and breathless
Even as She checks Her breathing to be sure Her aim will not
go astray
As it cannot for She is a Goddess
She looks straight down the shaft
Gently the bowstring slips from Her fingers
Skillfully as She has done since before the beginning of time
She lets the arrow fly
This arrow will never falter or go astray
Will never lose speed or fall to the earth
But this arrow will never find its mark
It is its destiny to keep circling the world
Forever restlessly searching, searching forever

 

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Inspirational Protest Poem: Untitled

Author Photo Downsized

 

High above the air force fighter planes scratch the sky
Leaving their long, white trails that hover in the air for hours
Then come the sonic booms and the air raid sirens being tested at noon
This is the world our elders have given us
A world of war
Down here on the ground, on Earth a child reads
About gangs, ghettos and poverty
About prejudice and discrimination and people fighting for their rights
About freedom riders, protest marches and riots
And he says to himself, “Someday we’ll change the world”

From: The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry

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