It’s been way too long, but Trolls for Dust, Season 3 is available on Amazon finally! Ebook forthcoming. Working on a different novel and then will get to writing Season 4, which will be the last book in the series.
Happy Reading,
–Pixie Beldona
Archives
Book Fair This Saturday
Hello, all!
I will be at the Bethany book fair at Bethany Lutheran College in Mankato, MN this Saturday, September 16th, 2023, from 11am-5pm selling my Trolls for Dust books. You are welcome to stop by to say hi and have some chocolate. The book fair will be in the YFAC or Ylvisaker Fine Arts Center. For those who buy Season Two there, I will have a ten-page preview of Season Three to give to you. My goal is to publish it early 2024. God willing!
Enigma Brutale
It’s not often that I write short stories, but I might start doing it more often. A friend and I have been debating the up and down sides of AI generated art and looking into it inspired this story. Happy reading. –Pixie
Enigma Brutal by Pixie Beldona
Copyright 2023
Everything stank of vomit. Sometime in the middle of the night, the plastic waste basket had disappeared, likely hiding under Sam’s bed. Sam was a fitful sleeper, tossing sheets, blankets, and pillows this way and that. He’d heard a thunk after turning on his other side for about the fiftieth time, and he was sure the wastebasket was cowering under the bed, ashamed of so easily abandoning him.
Never had Sam made it to the bathroom when he was this nervous, and so the pile of vomit on the floor permeated the room with its pungent stomach-turning smell. Sarah was due to clean the apartment today. Maybe if he gave her a generous tip? But, no, the cleaner had said at the beginning she refused to do bodily fluids; thus Sam found himself still having to clean his own toilet and now the vomit. Should he leave a bad review online for Sarah’s cleaning company? But Sarah was his older sister, plus she gave him a discount.
“Nervous stomach?” Sarah placed her hands on her ample hips and stared down at him from the hallway as he scrubbed furiously at the carpet. “Little Miles is the same way, takes after his uncle.” The spot was mostly soap now, though a stench still hung in the air. Sam muttered something that at least she willingly cleaned up Miles’ throw up. “It’s a nice day out.” She sighed and stepped around him to throw open the curtains, the blinds, and then the bedroom windows. Sweet morning air crept into the room and Sam could almost smell sunshine. “Hey, that’s right, your big art show’s today.”
“It’s nothing…just an AI competition.”
“Still, you worked really hard on it. Oh, I’m deep cleaning the fridge today, so I hope you’re eating out for lunch.”
“I pay for light cleaning.”
Sarah smiled. “I only have one rate, Sammy.” She patted his head, then drew her hand back noting the grease on her fingers. “How about a shower, little bro? You’ll feel so much better.” Before Sam knew anything, he was hauled to his feet and shoved into the bathroom with a clean towel thrown in his face. Sarah closed the door and walked away.
“But I get a discount, right?” Sam stared at the door, knowing that of course she couldn’t hear him. He climbed into the shower and rejuvenated in the hot water, soaping himself several times over. No way was he showing up at the art show smelling like throw up. Sarah was right, he had worked hard on his piece: Enigma Brutale. It was just an idea that had come to him suddenly last year at the same competition. He had been thinking of the time and hours everyone had put into their pieces using various AI art programs, and the idea had just clicked, a truth that had always hung in the background waiting for him to notice it. Still, he was nervous and threw up twice in the bathroom before leaving for the show. Sarah hollered at him to break a leg and he didn’t correct her, fervently hoping he would break a leg to get out of the day. The painting he’d already packed away in the truck of his Honda. No way did he want his sister to see it yet.
***
The exhibition hall parking lot was already crowded with cars, but Sam found a spot still open in the middle. He drank in the sunshine briefly before carefully retrieving Enigma Brutale from the trunk. The painting was on a light canvas, just as instructed, a medium-sized rectangle to be oohed and ahed over and then stuck with a rating and fancy ribbon, if he was lucky. Or it could end up in the dumpster and Sam with it. He gulped. No one—no one had ever done this before. Someone at some point in history had done the proverbial opposite, but this… Sam shifted the cloth-covered frame to the crook of one arm and pressed the opposite hand over his mouth. He would not throw up again. Counting for twenty seconds while watching the progress of his feet helped, but he almost choked when someone slapped him hard on the back.
“Sammy! ‘Bout time ya showed up! The judges start their rounds in twenty minutes.” It was Frank Davis, Sam’s old college roommate. Both of them had been IT majors and shared a love of Artificial Intelligence in all its forms. Sam nearly dropped the painting and Frank stepped back, hands up. “Woah, please don’t puke on me. New shoes are all I have going for me.”
It was true; few of the contestants entering the center to quickly put up their artwork wore anything that could be considered fashionable. But then, the crowd pressing to get in was the same. In the growing desert heat outside, and with the frigid cold of the air-conditioning inside, everyone just wanted to be comfortable.
Signs proclaiming the Phoenix Amateur AI Festival were everywhere, with hyperreal AI-generated images decorating them. There were contests for robot building and the like, but the paintings and 3D printing contests were always the favorites. Last year, both young men had entered a piece in each competition and received middling reviews. Spencer Caine, a fan favorite who sold his image prompts online for ridiculous amounts of money, had been the winner for two years straight and probably would win again this year. Caine was what Sarah would refer to as “verbose” and critics joked that he succeeded at generating wonderful images because he simply chatted the AI programs to death.
Fortune or somebody favored Sam as Frank led him to his spot at number twenty. Frank had spot number 4 up the corridor aways and just as they were passing, his painting, an image of a goldfish encased in a silver suit, fell to the floor with a thunk. Frank gasped as if in pain, rushing to help put his baby back on display. Sam continued on through the crowd, found his spot and proceeded hooking up his painting to the nail driven into the wall for just such a purpose. He did it without taking off the cloth covering and could feel people staring curiously at his back at his failed attempts to get the wire on the back of the canvas onto the hook.
“Need some help, friend?”
Sam tensed even more, recognizing Spencer’s affected drawl. The taller, blond man with longish hair stepped into his space.
“I…”
Spencer took the painting from Sam and expertly fixed it upon the nail. He pulled at one end of the cloth, joking about Sam keeping his secrets close. Sam frowned at him and jerked the cloth away, If only Spencer knew. “Can you believe we’re still getting criticisms that this isn’t real art? I spent over one hundred hours alone on this project. The dedication it takes, the patience, the endurance. Do you know how much I sold my latest prompt for?”
“Fifteen hundred dollars. Everyone knows that. How ya doin’, Spence?” They turned to see Frank standing there with his arms crossed. “Not sure that’s actually helping the cause.”
“I know what I’m worth.” Spencer nearly stuck his nose in the air. “People pay me to do the tedious work they don’t want to. It’s as simple as that, and I will have you know, I do have an art history degree.”
“Yeah, but you can’t draw or paint to save your life,” Frank snorted. “Everyone knows that, too.”
“Can you, Frankie boy?” Frank shrugged, conceding that it was a fair point.
“It’s a different dedication,” Sam said to them. “Making real art. It takes something from…from you, or you give it something.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What? A piece of your soul?” Spencer snorted. “Come on, no one actually believes that. Not anymore, anyway, if ever. Ah, the judges are lining up. I’d best be at my post. The best for last, always.” They watched him walk away and exchanged a glance. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with Spencer, but the way he put things sometimes made everything in the world seem like a sham.
“May the best man win!” Frank said and they knuckle bumped. He wasn’t far off, few women had entered the competition this year.
Sam turned to stare at the cloth covering his painting. How many hours had he spent? How many days and nights and how much thinking time? He had no idea. This year he had given himself over to a new process. Terror gripped his heart. This was ludicrous—insanity! Why had the thought even come into his head? Too late to back out now. Reluctantly, Sam pulled the cloth off the painting, letting the soft material drop to the floor. Even though he’d stared at it before, still the art sucked him in and he found it difficult to look away and to sit halfway on the tall stool to the side. No one had noticed his painting yet, as everyone’s attention zeroed in on the ten judges making their way down the hallway and into the main room where the last half of exhibits enjoyed far more light and breathing room than the first half.
Most of the judges were older and far better dressed than either the artists or the spectators. The majority wore glasses and talked quietly, though there were a few younger, louder outliers. The first year of the competition, everyone, judges and artists included, had seemed to think of this contest as a good joke. Paintings created by giving digital commands digital monsters that created castles in seconds out of a cloud of information collected in and by modern technology.
Last year had involved more news coverage and more competition. Spencer had won, but by a smaller margin than he wanted to admit. This year, the judges worked quickly, going from one exhibit to the next with false smiles and nods at the proud presenters. Spencer was right. Even the judges didn’t really consider what they did to be art. Their expressions were blank, not unlike the expressions of the fairies and goddesses in the paintings around him. Did everyone look bored today, or was it just Sam? Boredom was why…he breathed, calming himself, closing his eyes and quieting his soul. He remembered the hush, the anticipation and dread involved in that first stroke and all the rest to follow—
“Oh my.”
Sam’s eyes opened. The judges crowded around his exhibit, the short ones in front, the taller in back. They had all stopped talking and every single one stared at his painting. Sam wanted to turn to look as well, but he felt as if he’d be drawn into it and he needed himself coherent in case they asked questions. A tiny woman with curled hair and a frilly top was the one who had made the comment. Her small eyes bulged, straining their sockets, and her mouth formed an O of surprise. The others, too, had similar expressions. Then there was a rushing sound of movement, almost water-like, as the spectator crowd that had politely retreated to the refreshment tables on the other side of the room caught wind that something had stopped the methodical procession.
More and more people crowded around, pressing in gently, eager to see, yet still polite. Nearly diagonal and not too far from the refreshment tables, Sam could barely make out the top of Spencer’s blond head as he, too, strained to see from his position. After a minute, a sigh ran through the judges and then the crowd. Something shifted in their posture. Their shoulders fell and their breathing softened. Suddenly the tiny woman in front looked so much younger and her smile was killer, nearly bowling Sam off of his seat. Her merry eyes moved to him and back to the painting as if they couldn’t help it. The man next to her stepped forward, peering deeper into the black of the painting, a keen light shining in his eyes. One corner of Sam’s mouth turned up. They were getting it now because they were so close; it would be some time before the others would have a chance. Really, the whole thing should have been created on a larger canvas, but Sam had wanted it entered in this particular competition, fitting into the rules. Well, some of the rules.
The man took off his glasses and wiped away a tear, accepting the tiny woman’s hanky. They beamed at him and Sam softly asked if they had any questions.
“Enigma Generator?” He asked. “Was that the program?” Sam just smiled and looked steadily at the judge, who chuckled. “Of course you…but you won’t win, my boy.”
“It’s not about that, Henry.” The woman said. She blew a kiss to Sam. “Thank you.” She gestured at his painting. “This makes, oh, my whole heart glad today.” With genuine smiles and bright eyes, they scooted back out of the crowd, leading the other judges reluctantly one by one to the next exhibit. Now Sam faced off with the spectators, but none of them had eyes for him, only for the painting. Enigma Brutale, they whispered to themselves, reading the printed foam placard the event organizers had put up on the wall. Samual Reed.
Then there was Frank, pushing his way to the front, and he gawked, pressing a hand to his chest as if it hurt.
“Sammy…this is…you’ve been holding out on me, man!” And Sam found himself enveloped in a bear hug.
“Ick, ick, get off!”
“Alright, alright.” Frank smiled, releasing him. “You were never one for affection. But this,” he pointed at the painting, “this is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. I just want to keep staring at it, drinking it in. Some of the judges are even coming back this way. This belongs in the halls of glory.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t overdo it, Frank.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s not gonna win.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not going to win. Who cares about a crappy little contest when you can make this!” Frank took Sam by the shoulders, then raised his hand. “I’m not going to hug you again. I want to, but I won’t. What you’ve done today, Sam, this is life!”
That phrase rung in Sam’s ears the rest of the afternoon. Spencer won the contest, because of course he did. But the judges came back and back and back to Sam’s painting, as did everyone else. Camera flashes seared Sam’s eyes and he longed for a pair of sunglasses. He was asked for his contact information so many times it bordered on criminal—stalking or something. Soon his phone and email inboxes filled with messages, accolades, offers of scholarships, offers from museums and art galleries who wanted to buy his work. Instant fame. But that’s not why he’d done it.
Much later, after everyone had gone and Sam agreed to bring his painting to a local gallery to be properly framed and showcased, he turned to find Spencer standing behind him. His eyes run up and down the painting, giving it a once over that made Sam feel violated.
“Congratulations. First place again.” Sam offered a half smile.
“What have you done, Sam?” Spencer’s voice was clipped.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Spencer crossed his arms and even tapped his foot on the linoleum floor. “I want your prompts.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “What prompts?”
“Sam.” Spencer gave him a withering look. “Enigma Generator. It’s the latest and greatest AI art imager. It’s what I used. I want your prompt code.”
“There isn’t one.” Sam smiled. “But I’ll take yours, Spence. Maybe then next year I’ll place first.”
“I don’t think you understand what you’ve done here, Sam. I’ve personally mastered—mastered EG, mind, even got a certificate, but I can’t get it to show…” He gestured futilely at the painting and shock chilled Sam’s bones. Spencer was emotionally affected by the painting. A tear glistened in one of his blue eyes. “My mother…” But he didn’t finish the thought. “Sam,” he stepped over to him grabbing his arms, imploring him. “This is everything missing from AI art right now, and you—figured out the programming! Don’t you know what this means? I want your prompts! I have to know how to recreate—this!” He let go and turned back to Enigma Brutale. A part of Sam felt truly sorry for him.
“There’s no code, Spence. No prompt for soul.”
But Spencer wasn’t having it. He turned now in anger, shoving a finger in Sam’s face. “You don’t paint. No one could actually paint that, not in a million lifetimes.”
Where his crooked smile came from Sam didn’t know, as inside he was shaking, in fear and also in a bit of anger. Of anyone, Spencer had no right to demand things and to decide what one could and could not do. “You paint now, Spence?”
He lowered his hand. “I’ve dabbled.” Spencer expression was sullen, with sucked in cheeks like he’d swallowed a lemon. Everything that exchanged between them went unsaid, the time, the knowledge, the skill that would build a painter of renown. Every artist in the competition knew it or knew of it, but most of them could not do it and many didn’t want to put in either the effort or the time, as there were so many other things to do, other projects, other ideas. Dabblers is what they were, but even dabblers could create sometimes. Sam knew that now. He placed a steady hand on Spencer’s shoulder.
“Look, if there was a prompt code, I’d give it to you. But there’s not. For a true work of art, it’s there, it exists. You can’t replicate it. That’s…that’s why it’s special. Enjoy the after party.” Sam slid around him and took the painting from its hook, wrapping up again in the cloth. Tomorrow he’d bring it to the gallery. As he drove home he imagined Spencer later that night typing madly away on his laptop, trying to regenerate Enigma Brutale on Enigma Generator. It took a certain amount of patience and focus to generate the specific image one was looking for. Last year, Sam’d had spent at least fifty hours before he got what he’d wanted and he’d placed third, but he’d placed. No placing this time; it wouldn’t be right.
“Because there is no code,” he whispered to himself.
Sarah was still at his townhouse, finishing up. He paid her to clean and to cook, so on Saturday afternoons she’d sizzle up a storm of dishes for Sam to have all throughout the week. Miles ran up on his little legs, calling him Uncle Sammy and smearing the cloth of the painting with jelly from his sandwich.
“Almost ready to go, Sam, dishes are all in the fridge.” She banged dishes around, hand washing as usual as the dishwasher was broken again. One of these times, Sam’s would crack that code and repair it all the way so it never broke again. Then he’d give anyone and everyone the instructions, because it was only a dishwasher and Sarah had better things to do, like watching over little Miles. As she was packing everything up, Sam thanked her for cleaning and she winked at him, saying how a tip would be great, little bro.
He set the painting on a kitchen chair and whipped off the cloth. Sarah and Miles both stared, the little boy’s mouth hanging open.
“Is that me, Uncle Sammy?”
“‘Course it’s you.” He tousled the four-year-olds curly hair. Sarah put a hand to her heart and sniffed. Sam felt self-conscious. “I-I saw you playing with Miles one day and it inspired me. Just hit me here, you know?” He too, touched his heart.
“Sam, how? You painted this? It’s overwhelming.” Sarah wiped away tears.
“I made it for the competition.”
When they left, both hugged him tight and he thought he would give his sister a tip. Maybe a ticket to that musical she’d always wanted to see. He fumbled in the fridge around stacked containers of homemade lasagna and stir-fries, finding a pale ale. The long, cool drink restored something in him and he pulled out a chair across from the painting to gaze at it as if he were in a famous gallery and this was the Mona Lisa or another masterpiece. Masterpiece. That had been whispered by the judges, but there was something guarded in the way they’d said it. They knew and they didn’t know. Sam didn’t even know, not really. He couldn’t duplicate this, not even with Spencer’s proverbial millions of lifetimes.
The front door opened and soft footsteps tread across the carpet. A rosy-cheeked face peered around the doorway into the kitchen.
“Forget something, sis?” Sam was getting sleepy, the madness and weight of the day finally settling in.
“I just…I left Miles with Charles. You know how he loves his Daddy time. I had to come back.” She stepped into the room and looked at the painting with reverence, then at Sam, with a question in her eyes. Squatting down as if she was talking to her four-year-old, she put a hand on Sam’s knee. “I don’t pretend to know exactly what you did to make this amazing work of art, Sam, but I know one thing. You don’t have a studio. You’re always here and you have a bedroom and a tiny office at the top of the stairs. And not once, not one time in the last year have I seen any painting supplies.”
Again the crooked smile appeared on his face. He couldn’t help it. “Oh, but you’re not here every day.”
“Still, I know my brother.” They stared at each other a minute longer and then she stood up and dusted off her jeans. “And you will keep your secrets as always. But, thank you. Thank you for showing how much Miles and I mean to you. Charles will feel left out when he sees it.” They chuckled. “You’ve accomplished something really extraordinary, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He swallowed.
She sighed. “I guess that will have to be enough, then. Do you want us to meet you at the gallery tomorrow?” He nodded and she wished him good night.
“And a good night to you, too.” Sam tipped his ale bottle at Enigma Brutale. How different he felt, how light and not nervous at all. The painting was extraordinary, and it would speak for itself.
*Image by Gabby of gab.com. Prompt: A cave painting of elves with flowing silver robes and illustrious hair casting a spell on an orc, hyper realistic.
Suddenly
I encourage you to watch this. Make of it what you will and it is disturbing. Those of us who have been following vaccines in general, and especially THE vaccine, aren’t really surprised, but it is sad, So very, very sad. Evil is real in this world. https://www.stewpeters.com/video/2022/11/live-world-premiere-died-suddenly/
God be with us.
Quick Reviews and Updates
Some reading, writing, and watching updates and a few quick reviews! Happy reading.
4:50 to Paddington by Agatha Christie – Almost positive I’ve read this one before, but the great thing about Christie’s mysteries is that I often forget them after reading, so when going back it’s like I’m reading it for the first time again. Anyway, this is one of those that they’ve retitled over the years. Used to be What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw. Either title works for me and this is probably one of her most inventive mysteries. Hats off! I thoroughly enjoyed it, including the cheek of Miss Marple to end by not telling us which man her young friend ended up with.
Alice – Although truly unique in the world of Korean dramas, I couldn’t finish this one. Too weird having the main love interest being essentially the same person as the main character’s mother. Incest not cool, even admidst parallel worlds.
The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien – What a wonderful, wholesome story! Clear lines between good and evil, characters who don’t immediately have all the answers but do their best, and a made up world that reflects our own in myriad ways, leaving such food for thought. Just who is Tom Bombadil, anyway? But that’s just it, there are mysteries in life that may never be explained to us. It’s okay, maybe even preferable, not knowing everything. It’s clearer in the books than the LOTR movies that the characters floundered for much of the time–all of them, elves included. Refreshing, perhaps, even human.
A Grand Deception by Elizabeth Mansfield – So good was this book that I can’t remember a thing about it. Now I’m reading her story My Lord Murderer. Sadly, it’s going the forgettable way, too.
The Knight by Steven James – The murders in this series are extremely violent, sickeningly so. It’s been difficult for me to continue. Taking a pause on this one.
Chimera – This Korean drama had great promise, great acting and all that, but just ended up being too slowly paced for me. Almost halfway through it didn’t feel as if the main characters were progressing with the investigation or solving the mystery.
He Is Psychometric – This was an enjoyable procedural drama starring Park Jin Young from Yumi’s Cells 1 & 2 and Shin Ye Eun from Yumi’s Cells 2. These two have good chemistry and explains a bit more the hurt that Park’s character Babi brought to Yumi with regards to Shin’s character in that show. This drama tells the story of a young man who can read the history of objects and people by touching them. It was full of good acting and decent plot points and development. Not a must see, but definitely showcases Park’s acting chops and ability to carry a show.
The Devil Judge – Talk about atypical Korean drama! Here, Park Jin Young plays an everyman character opposite a formidable and charismatic head judge played by Ji Sung (Dr. John). It’s based in a dystopian world where justice is turned into a reality television show. Haven’t finished it yet, but this is definitely one of my top favorite dramas I’ve watched. Up there with shows like Awaken, Signal, and Tunnel. Also he is not literally a devil, or the Devil, I don’t think, so much relieved there. Longer review coming.
Writing – Trolls for Dust 3 is getting more added to it and also edited. As I’m still getting used to a new job, I am not sure about a timeline for this one, but I do hope to get it published just as soon as I can. For now am backing off of a thriller I started because I’m just not feeling it right now, and interestingly enough am cooking away at what I call my “grandma” story. It’s an idea for a drama that I’ve had for a few years now and I think it’s going to make a nice, little novel revolving around fairies. In addition to that, I’ve written a poem that could easily be a children’s book and if I can find someone willing to illustrate perhaps I will publish that too.
Reading – Enjoying Moneyball, have some Agatha Christie’s to dig into, and cracking open a John Grisham, The Last Juror. My all time favorite Grisham is The Pelican Brief and I’m doubtful any of his newer works can top it for me, but I always like giving him a chance. Also attempting the somewhat intimidating and tedious S. by J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorst. Being familiar with Abrams, I don’t expect any solid resolutions to the mystery/ies involved, but I love the idea of two readers bashing out ideas together in the margins.
A Story to Read When You First Fall in Love: The Age Gap Romance
Spoilers ahead.
Age Gap Romances are tricky. And, especially gaps where it’s the woman who is older. Depending on the story, they don’t always come across as believable, and then there’s just the Don’t-Even-Go-There! ones. A Story to Read When You First Fall in Love gets many, awesome story points, but as a romance, I wished they just didn’t even go there.
Maybe it’s because we now have so many lonely, aging, single women suddenly waking up to the fact that feminism has failed them. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason there are more and more age gap romance dramas where the women falls for a much younger man, or he falls for her, or whatever. It’s not totally unbelievable, certainly there are relationships like this in real life, however they are not the norm, and this sub-genre of romance is definitely also in the fantasy category. In this particular drama, a Japanese drama, it really only works for one reason: The female lead is extremely beautiful almost to the point of looking ageless. If she was an average looking woman, this relationship would be creepy. In fact, later on in the show, the show itself showcases the creepiness of such relationships using a woman of the same age who is slightly less beautiful, and more manipulative.
But I get ahead of myself. Harumi Junko is a cram school teacher who never really made it in life. She failed the test for Tokyo University and just settled into being sort of a nothing. She is thirty-two, still living with her parents, and at risk of losing her job because she’s not a popular teacher at the school. Through happenstance, Harumi comes in contact with a group of teenage boys and somewhat befriends them. Later on, one of the students, a boy with pink hair named Yuri comes to her cram school. He’s a slacker who decides he wants to pass the test for Tokyo University. This is a nearly impossible feat, for he’s barely up to junior high standards in scholastic activity. However, Harumi sees something in him, a bit of herself at the same age, and she strives to help him see this through despite difficult odds.
This in itself would have been a great story, no romance needed. But, because the writers decided to go the Don’t-Even-Go-There! route, it’s also a romance. Not just any romance, no. I am not sure what’s worse, the sixteen-year age gap, the fact that Yuri is a minor and only seventeen for most of the show, or the fact that they are very clearly teacher and student. I think the last fact is the stickler for me. Coming from an American perspective we have a lot–a lot–of thirty-something female teachers who end up in sexual relationships with their male students and have ended up charged with crimes, doing jail time, etc. Fortunately in this story the female lead is so utterly clueless about any romantic attention towards herself that it’s the farthest thing from her mind until about the last episode. That doesn’t really make it great, though.
A great platonic friendship between student and teacher would have made more sense. And this is because the largest portion of the show is all about Yuri studying and striving with blood, sweat, and tears to pass the test and make it to Tokyo university. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, on the show cheers him on. And so the romance is pushed to the side…yet it’s not.
Harumi actually has three possible love interests in the show, and all are Don’t-Even-Go-There! Besides Yuri, we have Masashi, Harumi’s successful cousin who works at a trading company and who incidentally went to Tokyo University. That’s right, he’s her cousin, her literal cousin who has been in love with her for twenty years and too scared to make an actual move. Then we have Kazuma who is not only Yuri’s teacher at school school, but the first person that Harumi ever taught. He’s a bad boy, who is awesome and flirty and…married. Yes, married. But he gets divorced. I wish I could say that made things better. It didn’t. Suffice to say, with three possibles and a very clueless heroine, the show actually has very little romance, so, so little that it could have been done away with altogether.
With Yuri, he’s a minor, and of course you can’t show Harumi wanting or doing something illegal, so that’s out. There’s not a lot of “story” to their love story. Then there’s her cousin. Same deal. Then there’s the sometimes married, sometimes divorced one. Same thing again. The only way the romance kind of works in the end is that Harumi finally gets a clue already and actually does something for herself for a change. Thankfully, by this point our pink-haired hero is nineteen. Still with the pink hair, though. Yes, this man will never change, not even his hair, so you, beautiful woman, sixteen years older, have nothing to fear.
Yet there’s a lot to love about this show. Not the title, which has nothing to do with anything, but the characters. Almost every single one of them turns out to be really good people. These are people that genuinely love and care about others, and that’s pretty awesome. The cousin in love wins us over by the fact that he really does love Harumi and wants what’s best for her. He is true to her and helps Yuri for the test any way he can even though this boy is his rival. Masashi just tried so hard, yet fails so miserably, one just can’t help but root for him. But by the end, he gets the truth: cousin or no cousin, Harumi is just not into him like that. Sad, but true. He has a great line, asking her to give him a clear rejection, so he can move on. That’s a life lesson there. Often we want to let people down easy and it’s better just to give them the straightforward truth so that they can move on and find the one who will love them.
The bad boy teacher makes the biggest, selfless move, seemingly giving up everything so that Yuri can have a chance at succeeding on the test. But his move sacrifices any chance he and Harumi could be together. It’s all okay, though, because he still loves his wife, or ex-wife, or whatever she is. At the end he says he’s courting her, which is rather cute, and he becomes a politician, giving up his teaching career. He also has the best flirtations on the show and a sort of dry humor. He and Harumi drink together and fall asleep. He touches her boobs, but swears to her he didn’t do anything else because he doesn’t want to sleep with her when she’s drunk. He wants them to be coherent and in love, etc. Puzzled, she asks, then why did you touch my boobs? Because they’re there, is his answer. That got a laugh out of me. I don’t know, sometimes in these shows it’s just nice having men being, well, men. And it was just refreshing that he didn’t come up with any big excuse or falling over apology that really wouldn’t have been sincere. She obviously forgives him, for they continue to be friends.
In addition to the heroine and the three love interests, all of the minor characters on this show are also great. Some strange at first, but they all come around and are, fantastic, caring people. Interestingly, none of them are truly put out by a Harumi-Yuri romance, but then this is a bit of a fantasy. It is also a comment that people of all ages do fall in love, and sometimes with those deemed unlikely to be the object of one’s affection.
It is true that age gaps matter less the older one is, however, it was just unseemly that Yuri was a minor and also her student. It’s hard not to see a “grooming” aspect in the story, and the writers know full well it is there as they address it later on with another teacher the same age as Harumi who definitely preys on her students in a romantic way. This is then swept away as she just does it to motivate them to study. Really?!? In the last episode many other teachers at the cram school state that when the students pass their exams they will often give love confessions to their teachers. Maybe stuff like that does happen, and sure, students sometimes get crushes on their teachers, but it’s odd to make it seem so lighthearted and so commonplace mixing romance with teacher-student relationships. Maybe I am just too cynical, but what’s the real agenda of such plot lines?
Age gaps: Sixteen years. This is one of the biggest age gaps I’ve seen in an Asian drama. My favorite one, High School King of Savvy, was ten years and definitely and solidly more of a romantic comedy, with a clear emphasis on both. They took pains to show how the pair was a match for each other and also that the young man was ready to be a man. It still has a bit of a weird factor, though. Then there’s Secret Love Affair that is almost a work of art when it comes to the sound and cinematography, but has a twenty-year age gap with the man being younger. In that one at least he’s not a minor, but the woman is married. Don’t-Even-Go-There! but the writers do and somehow manage to tell compelling stories while doing so.
Yumi’s Cells 2: Hilarious!
Spoilers ahead.
This series is my current favorite. Not only is it hilarious, but it also has a lot of food for thought and fun, romantic suspense: Which guy will Yumi end up with? Based on the popular Webtoon, Yumi’s Cells was an instant hit, taking a lonely 30-something through one romantic possibility after another. In season one, we were introduced to Ku Woong (Ahn Bo Hyun – Kairos),got to watch as he and Yumi built a relationship, and subsequently got to watch it fall apart largely due to lack of communication.
Alternating between the real life scenes are cartoon scenes of the “cells” in each of their bodies, telling the audience what the character is thinking and feeling but as if each thought or desire was a separate cute, cartoon character interacting and arguing with the others. At first I didn’t like the back and forth, but more and more I enjoyed the very funny cells scenes that put a great X-factor on what is itself a rather humdrum story. It also makes one think, “hey, I sometimes do that!” or think that way, or feel that way. It makes one start to consider what “cell” is ruling at any given time. Am I ruled by logic primarily? Pride? Love? Hope? The depth of the show is often astounding.
It was sad to see Yumi and Ku Woong break up at the end of season one and I was pleasantly surprised there was a season 2, because with Kdramas there’s so often not. Yumi’s Cells 2 is even better. Kim Go Eun (Goblin) is Yumi. I can’t see the character being played by anyone else. And, although Yumi is frustratingly awkward in romance, she has good chemistry with this season’s love interest, Yoo BaBi, played by Jin Young of group GOT7. Jin is not only easy on the eyes, just like Ahn, but he has very expressive eyes himself, always a plus for an actor.
Babi was literally a paper doll in season one. Hey, it’s true, often when you’re dating or really into a certain person, all the other guys or girls could just be paper dolls, no matter how cute they are. It was pretty funny seeing that shown on screen that way. In season two it is Babi’s turn to date Yumi, and although he’s refreshingly straightforward as a person, it still takes them what seems like ages to get together. In contrast with Woong, Babi is more of a grownup and thus Yumi becomes more grownup as well. Some may think of this as boring, but it’s character growth and the two characters really seem like they have a real relationship. Refreshing also, is that Babi isn’t run by pride. His heart throws a party in welcome for Yumi. It’s a great thing and I sometimes wish that more people were like this: more straightforward and more ready just to dive into love. So, so much time is wasted on hesitation. Diving in is likely the best way to get to know the person, to know if they really are the right one. Over time, Yumi also has the courage to be straightforward as well, and sadly, a bit of her hesitancy and awkwardness rubs off on Babi. But, hey, he’s too perfect and needs flaws.
Speaking of those, Babi is quite possibly too nice in some ways and too open to love. If you have a damsel, you shouldn’t be out there helping every other damsel in distress you see. While that should be obvious, it isn’t to Babi, and he finds himself quite shocked one day to find that he has allowed a cute intern to worm her way into his affections. Sometimes it can be dangerous to care about others too much. If you have a significant other, there must be boundaries in place to protect yourself, that person, and the relationship. It seems Babi didn’t have those boundaries set well. Yumi ends up so hurt by this–even though he didn’t really, physically cheat on her–that she breaks up with him.
Although I am very team Babi, I get that Yumi can’t trust him. Still, he chases after her, while Woong most certainly did not. It shows Babi is willing to fight for her, and is something that remains with the viewers even after Woong shows up again, with better clothes, better hair, and loads of money as his computer game has now become a success.
Despite Woong being back in the picture and still head over heels for Yumi and egged on by the awesome “Control Z” illustrator (P.O of Block B), the show clearly still has plans for Babi. Both men face off in a hilarious showdown in which their cartoon cells do all the actual fighting. Both get significant barbs in, but it’s Babi who walks away with the girl.
The scene where Yumi and Babi get back together was done so well. The acting was amazing and we could see both knocking down each other’s walls. Afterward they are awkward together and walking on eggshells and it’s only at the end of episode 12 that we really find out why: Each one is sure the other one feels they made a mistake in getting back together. But that they are finally able to tell each other that is a great thing.
Not a great thing: Like Woong, Babi has now for the second time kept very important information from Yumi. It’s a lie of omission, it’s not ideal, and throws Yumi for a very big loop, as normally he is very straightforward. This seems to be his great flaw, that he is unable or unwilling to share either something he doesn’t understand about himself, or something he thinks will burden Yumi. Hopefully he got the message loud and clear from her that he shouldn’t do that, that not communicating is worse than the hurt that could be caused by communicating. Communication is so key in every relationship, but especially in romantic ones. Our basic instincts have us constantly misunderstanding each other, so even if a couple communicates well, it can still be a bit of a battle.
Four more episodes remain in the season. Although the Webtoon adds another guy, purportedly the one and Mr. Right, I do not know if there are plans for a season three of the drama. I think the writers will have Yumi end up with either Woong or Babi. The feminism doesn’t seem strong enough in this show to have her end up alone, but who knows? I am waiting in suspense for the next episodes.
The funniest things this season: Ruby and Control Z! Wow, are they great. I loved Lee Yoo-Bi in Pinocchio and she’s hilarious here as well as a ridiculous, cute girl who always refers to herself in the third person. We get more of these two than is warranted, but I like it. Funniest cells scene, aside from the man face off, was when Yumi and Babi kiss for the first time. Their tongue cells meet! It was laugh-out-loud funny. Yumi’s editor, played by Jun Suk Ho (Kingdom Season 2) was also hysterical.
Other things I love about this season is the soundtrack–a lot of great, mellow love songs–and also the poster. It’s a great poster. See for yourself: https://asianwiki.com/images/e/e4/Yumis_Cells_S2-p2.jpg
Can’t wait to find out what happens!
Updates
Finally, I am making headway with my manuscript. Telling a complicated story only gets more complicated with each subsequent book, but it’s fun. Kinda like solving a puzzle. So Trolls for Dust, Season 3 is rolling again-yay! It’s satisfying to look out on the figurative horizon and see a point where I could have people read the tome and give their thoughts. And it is a tome, a doorstop that I hope and pray will be worthy of the trees killed in its name when printed.
Summer is good. I am changing jobs, which will hopefully be both fruitful and interesting. It’s a relief to change things up sometimes. That being said, I have thought a bit about blogging and this blog and do want to continue to do reviews every week. But it was nice to have a break.
Korean dramas I am watching and will soon have reviews of: Yumi’s Cells 2 (tearing my heart out), Chimera (who doesn’t love a good serial killer mystery series?), and Alice (time travel plot twisty goodness).
Books I am reading and will soon have reviews of: Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane (since I saw the movie once upon a time and already know the twist, it’s a bit meh), The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien (so wholesome compared to more modern fare. Even Sauron seems wholesome!), A Grand Deception by Elizabeth Mansfield (those Regency romances keep following me), and The Knight by Steven James (book 3 of the Patrick Bowers series. Reading one of these a summer. Maybe should speed it up?).
My heart is up and down these days and sometimes the Psalmist says it all:
Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.
Psalm 37: 3&4
Happy Summer!
Hello, All! Well, June is here and in May I did some writing and since my book is calling to me, will be working more on that the rest of the summer. So I won’t be posting very regularly.
God answers prayers and I am happy to report that He seems to be answering my prayer for a great summer for me, my friends, and family with a resounding YES! What winter will bring, we have yet to see, but summer is to be fun and glorious and for that I am very, very happy. We need to be filled up with joy for the sorrows and hardships we may face ahead.
Speaking of sorrows, I’m hearing of more and more people diagnosed with various ailments and illnesses they have “had for years and just didn’t know it.” I am hearing of more people going on disability and more people suddenly dying. The main cause, however, is still elusive to the general public. Most want to pretend the authoritarian two years of COVID did not happen and that many, many people took a harmful vaccine under coercion and threat. To us who have long been awake about vaccines, it seems obvious that the vaccines have been hastening death and ill health in many as their immune systems have been, possibly, irrepairably harmed. Socially, there is still the pressure to not mention vaccines, or the vaccine, to not bring it up. To so many friends I want to ask, did they (whoever is having the health issue) get the vaccine? But I’m just not sure how they’ll react. So, so many still have a huge blindspot about vaccines, thinking that a vaccine is always something good and could never harm anyone. It fills me with sorrow to see so many under this delusion and under this spell. And it is a kind of spell, because if people weren’t under it, they would question vaccines or list them as possible causes for health difficulties. Sorrow hovers over me, too, knowing there may be many, many more yet to come who will die or have serious health problems due to these vaccines, probably at these some that I know personally. And yet I also live in the JOY that God is in control and that he has and may still spare some from their bad decision.
True Beauty: I realized I completely forgot to write a review for this funny and excellent Korean drama! Suffice to say, I really liked it, even though some of the initial episodes dragged. The show reminded me a bit of Boys over Flowers, perhaps being a high school show, and also of Extraordinary You, as it is the same director. In fact, if one pays attention there are a few nods to Extraordinary You in the show. The acting was great and the topic timely, as so many especially young women are obsessed with their own looks. Moral of the story: Ladies, don’t stress! If he likes your looks, he likes your looks, wearing makeup may enhance your attributes, but it’s really just down to does the guy dig you or not. If he does dig you, jackpot! If not, changing your looks isn’t really going to do anything, and isn’t it a rather hollow victory to only win someone after having to change so much for them?
In this story the main character uses makeup to stop being bullied for being “ugly,” but really she finds all she needs is self-confidence. Makeup isn’t directly vilified in the show; in fact, it’s a bit of a springboard for the heroine who finds a passion for it, wanting to be a professional makeup artist. What is highlighted in the show is the bad behavior of people who constant criticize others looks and call them ugly. From what I have heard of South Korean society, they have a problem with this. How true this is, I don’t know firsthand, but find most Koreans very good looking. Perhaps these are problems that plague good looking peoples? Shrug. Who knows? Americans often seem to revel in looking fat and sloppy–different side of the spectrum. Anyway, True Beauty was a great show, laugh out loud funny at times and having much food for thought.
Updates
Happy Wednesday! Later this week I will have a review of the charming, funny show True Beauty. After that, due to limited time and energy and the need to focus on my own stories, I will be taking a break from blogging, at least until June. Thank you so much for reading. –Pixie
A Life of Story 