3D worlds made of antique books

Su Blackwell has graduated the Royal College of Art in 2003. She creates intricate pieces of art from books making the fantastic 3D worlds! By means of a surgical instrument, a scalpel, the talented English cuts and glues the pages creating the tiny light - illuminated diagrams located into the wooden boxes or glass cases recalling the Victorian antiquities which are on view in museum.

By the way, talking about antiquity and museums - today I have found an excellent china online shop where you can see a great choice of the antique pieces. The coins, porcelain and many other AUTHENTIC antique goods!

An old worn book is on a dusty shelf. It had already lost an interest of the readers, and no one will open its pages and have a look inside of it, no one will be interested in a plot of the story galloping greedy through a book in order to puzzle out an involved mystery. No one, except the English artist Su Blackwell who gives a new life to the books which become alive and open their stories for the readers!

Letters for Santa

A welcome day has come: the day before Christmas. That’s why Dany began preparing carefully for a festive Christmas evening from the early morning: he has washed, brushed teeth, made his bed, eaten a whole plate of the oats porridge ( though he didn’t like it very much ), put toys into the case, piled the books orderly, and even torn off a piece of chewing gum under the cover of the writing desk which he stuck being on summer vacation. Mum was busy in the kitchen: she was filling a turkey with fruits and rice and baking a traditional Christmas cake. She was always worried about the cake so that it should fluff up evenly and it shouldn’t burn. In order not to disturb her Dany put on the shoes, a jacket, a fine knitted cap and went in the street waiting for Christmas. Dany was going to the park where a playground and swing set was.
It was not far away from his house. He was directing toward and turning his head around thinking that Christmas is the best holiday in the world. The streets become very festive, sparkling and colorful only in the period of awaiting of Christmas, only on Christmas vacation the air scents of pine needles and gingerbread, and people’s smiles are the most joyful and happiest so it seems that dogs and cats smile them in reverse. Dogs…
“Eh..” – Dany sighed wistfully and sat on a wood bench in the park. For two years in succession he was asking Santa to bring him a dog as a Christmas gift. But this miracle didn’t happen. Mum soothed the son and talked that Santa knows about his dream but probably he considers that Dany is too little to have a dog; Dany is not grown-up and self – consistent enough in order to be responsible for the four legged friend: to feed him properly and take him out on time. That’s why if even a puppy may appear in their house not earlier than in a couple of two years. Dany agreed to wait this couple of years and even one year more if only his dream would come true. And still in this year when Dany was writing a letter to Santa asking to bring him at Christmas a new railroad with a locomotive from which arises a white smoke but a light is so bright so that you can play with it even in darkness, the boy after lingering doubts added a brief line: “Dear Santa! Please remember I am still dreaming about a dog! With love, Dany.”
-Hi, Dany! – the boy’s thoughts were interrupted by a known voice behind a back. The boy turned round and answered: “Hi, Peter” – then he gazed at toe - caps of his brown shoes.
-Hey, guy, what’s up? – Peter exclaimed being surprised and took a seat on the bench next to the boy. – Christmas’s Eve: everyone is waiting for midnight and Christmas miracles, but you look dejected! What’s happened?
Peter was a caretaker and probably he came to clean the paths in the park because he was holding a big green broom in his hands.
-Nothing is happened – Dany said sadly.
-Why do you feel blue? – Peter asked being worried.
-Because in this year again Santa will not bring me a dog for Christmas, - the boy answered fatefully.
-Do you want to get the puppy for Christmas? – Peter made a smile.
-I have been dreaming about it during three years, - the tears appeared in Dany’s eyes. – But again most likely the puppy will be just only my dream.
-Imagine if a miracle happens and tomorrow Santa brings you the puppy? – Peter asked hopefully.
-Unlikely, - the boy shook his head, - Mama said: it may happen not earlier than in a couple of years. For a wonder mama has never ever made mistakes in Santa’s affairs.
-Hm, - Peter took thought, - Why in a couple of years?
-Because in a couple of years I will become grown – up and self – consistent enough. But now I am a child and I am not able to care of the dog. Mama thinks so and Santa probably thinks the same, - answered Dany and added in a minute: - But they both are mistaken. Look! – and Dany touched a button on his jacket.
-Button, - Peter said. – Is it special?
-No, it is ordinary one, - Dany was looking sadly at his toe – caps of the shoes again, - Just I sewed it by myself.
-You are kidding! – Peter exclaimed with delight, - How come! And you ran a thread through a needle by yourself?
-Yes!, - Dany nodded.
-I have nothing to say, - Peter spread out his arms with respect, - Well done, guy!
-It is not like that, - Dany answered and looked into Peter’s eyes with hope, - How do you think, Peter, is a child able to sew on the button by himself?
Peter had very kind blue eyes, very thick grey eyebrows and very thick white moustache. Sometimes Dany thought that real Santa Claus might resemble at Peter. Or Peter might resemble at Santa Claus.
-I am sure Dan that not for all the world a little child can sew on the buttons by himself!
-I think so. It means that my mum is not right when says I am a little one. I am grown – up. What do you think can I have hope for Christmas miracle and Santa brings me the puppy after all?
-As seamen say, Dany, - Peter exclaimed prominently, - “Hope is the last thing to die”. You believe in a miracle – it is good. Ninety percentages of the dearest wishes come true thanks to the miracles.

Suddenly Peter said very sadly:
-I have a grandson of the same age as you, Dany. He is eight years old. I saw him only on a picture. I don’t even know whether he has a dog or he doesn’t.
-You have the grandson?! – Dany’s eyes became wide, - Where does he live?
-He lives far away beyond the seas even further. There is much snow and very cold, it is not like something we have now. My deepest dream, Dany, to see my grandson.
-Well…, - Dany paused to think, - Snow occurs rarely here, - suddenly he asked: - Did you write a letter about your dream to Santa?
-No, - Peter smiled sadly.
-Why? – the boy exclaimed and jumped off the bench. – Wait for me, I will be back right now! – Dany screamed running homeward twinkling up his shoes. – I will be back in a flash, Peter!
The caretaker was looking at Dany surprisingly. Not even five minutes were passed as Dany was running back. He held tightly a sheet of paper and felt pen in his hands.
-Here you are! – he said being puffed, - Write! – he gave to Peter the paper and felt pen.
-What should I write? – the caretaker didn’t get the idea.
-A letter to Santa about your dearest dream.
-But…- Peter got confused, - The letters for Santa are being written only by… - he looked at Dany, - young people, I am an old man already.
-When an issue regards the main dream of life, the age doesn’t matter for Santa! – Dany answered seriously and confidently.
-Dan, I don’t remember the proper way of writing letters for Santa, - Peter objected and still was confusing.
-It is easy as it gets! I will help you, write! – Dany began dictating. – “Dear Santa! Please make everything so that my grandson…” – What is his name? – Dany asked businesslike.
-Stephan.
-“so that my grandson Stephan comes to see me. With love, Peter.” – Have you written?
-Yes, I have, - Peter said hiding a smile in his thick moustache.
-Well done! – Dany praised Peter and re-read carefully the letter. – Be careful, don’t lose it! When you come home, put this letter under the Christmas tree and go to bed.
-This is no deal, Dan, - Peter sighed disappointedly.
-Why?
-Because I don’t have the Christmas tree at home. Only the Christmas wreath, - Peter brushed away by a broom a stuck dry leaf from a round toe of his huge boot.
-Damn! – Dany called name being upset and frowned. But right there exclaimed joyfully: - I have it! I can put your letter under my Christmas tree! Santa will look into there in any case – he will leave the new railroad for me. This is where he will see your letter and read it obligatory! Give me the letter! – Dany held out his little palm. – Or you don’t trust me? – he asked the caretaker anxiously having noted that he takes time to give his letter to the boy.
-I trust you, Dany, - Peter answered seriously and put the sheet of paper covered with writing into the boy’s palm. – Thanks for help, - and shook Dany’s hand adultly. – Now I must go: I must sweep the paths. See you, Dany.
-See you, Peter! – the boy screamed and ran to home to put a freshly written letter under the Christmas tree.
At night Dany had a dream as if his puppy prankster Rex and he are having a walk in the small square. As if Peter sweeps the path, but Rex hinders him: he bites a big green broom, growls at it, comes upon and barks. He barks so loudly, that … Dany awaked. He awaked and thought: “ Rex was barking so loudly in my dream that aroused me. It seems, that he jumped out of my dream and now he is barking in our yard.” Dany gave ear to: “ No, I felt as if. Or…” The boy, hasn’t taken on the slippers, jumped out of bed and run to the window. The yard was covered with white snow, the light big snowflakes were falling from the sky. Here he heard a clear dog bark. Dany heard a voice of the puppy sounded somewhere in the yard from the side of the entrance. He ran in a hall in all haste and pushed a front door. There were the visible steps on the path covered with snow. It appeared Santa Claus’s boots were huge with round toes but a big carton box with holes and red ribbon – tied was left on the porch of the house. Someone was whimpering and romping inside of the box. Having held breath, Dany took the box gently, brought in his room and unbound the red ribbon carefully. A nice Christmas postcard fell out from under the ribbon, there was a note on the reverse side of it: “ Merry Christmas. A gift for Dany. With love, Santa.” A handwriting seemed like well-known but Dany decided not to think about it. The boy took off a cover from the box carefully, his hands were trembling a little bit. He was thinking excitedly: “ What if Santa brought a toy dog? Not real one? “ He put the cover on the floor. There was a real puppy sitting on a fabric cloth inside of the box. He was white having the small flap ears, a black nose and brown spot on the side. The puppy looked in the same way like Dany saw in his night dream. “ Mama! Mama! Santa brought me the puppy at last! – the boy screamed embracing the warm puppy and ran to mum’s bedroom.
In the afternoon Dany and Rex were having a walk in the park. Snow melt quickly, it was dull and wet, but today nothing could shade Dany’s happiness. On the way home Dany and Rex met Peter.
-Merry Christmas, Peter! – Dany shouted from afar. – Santa brought me the puppy!
-Merry Christmas, Dany! – Peter’s eyes were shining with happiness. – I see, I see that your dream came true!
-Yes, it did! – Dany answered with delight. – Can you imagine my mum hasn’t believed her eyes that Santa brought me this puppy! But Santa probably knew that mum would have doubts because he wrote the postcard for me. When mama read it, she had such a surprised face that I started laughing! She was wondering so much probably because she couldn’t understand why in this year Santa didn’t agree with a fact that I am still too young to have the dog!
-Well, - Peter answered smiling cunningly, - it may happen… Do you know, Dany, my dream came true, too.
-Say! – Dany exclaimed and sat in amazement: - Stephan came?
-Not yet. But today my daughter has called me and she said that Stephen and she are coming to visit me on summer vacation! That’s just the way it is!
-Cool! – Dany winked meaningfully.
-Thank to you, Dan, - Peter put his big palm on the boy’s shoulder and smiled.
-If it was not you, I would not have any ideas that people must write the letters to Santa about their dreams to come true! Thank you!
-Nothing at all, - Dany got confused. – Just we both were dreaming so strongly that’s why our dreams came true. With help of Santa, of course! In future, Peter, don’t forget to write Christmas letters for Santa. But I, if you wish, can put them under my Christmas tree.
The boy and caretaker struck hands, said goodbye like the best friends and went own way, both of them had a dream that came true or almost came true.


Christmas gift for everyone - my book Pearl for Unicorn for FREE on 2013/12/26 on all Amazon marketplaces. Wishing you a Merry Christmas, let all your dearest dreams come true in these wonderful Christmas days! Lots of love and happiness!


© Copyright 2013 by Kseniya Malakhova
All rights are reserved.
Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Real book heroes

Not everybody knows that in fact the real people are hidden under fictitious names of the heroes of the famous books. Who are they? Let’s try to find out.

May the most famous wooden man named Pinocchio have a prototype? It turns yes. The name of this man is Pinocchio Sanchez. His biography is not so long as Einstein or Tolstoy has, but it is apparently known that he was born in 1790. When he was 18, he went to the army and served well 15 years and came home being a cripple. Thanks to the lucky destiny which sent to maimed Pinocchio Sanchez a genius doctor Bestulgi who helped to prolong the guy’s life. But the doctor, known as an
alchemist and enchanter, did a miracle: he made for the guy an incredible operation having replaced the crippled parts of the body , including a nose, with a wooden prostheses. Thanks to this operation Pinocchio had ten more years of life. But a long wooden nose helped him to become a famous farcical performing actor. Sanchez died not because of mutilations that were got during soldiering. At performing a complicated trick at high altitude the actor Pinocchio Sanchez fell down to death. But a fairytale wooden boy who appeared thanks to the real “wooden” man still lives on the pages of the fairytale written by Carlo Collodi “ The adventures of Pinocchio”.

 Peter Pan is a naughty, merry and communicable boy who suffered from nightmares. This literary character appeared thanks to a real boy named Michael Davis who was a son of James Mathew Barry’s friend. A fairytale itself was devoted to David’s older brother who died a tragic death during skating in his 14th birthday.

A penciling of a beautiful girl Alice from Wonderland was drawn from a real girl by Lewis Carroll. She was a daughter of his friends whose name was Alice Liddell. This amazing fairytale began when the Chancellor of the University of Oxford Henry Liddell and his daughters were having an ordinary summer stroll. Alice was one of them. At kids request Carroll was winging the fairy stories, inventing the miraculous characters and making the incredible Wonderland. When Carroll came back home after walk he decided to write a continuation of the story… Two years later Liddell gave Alice a written story with a photo attached to it and having a heading: “ A Christmas gift to the dearest girl in memory of a summer day”.

  One - legged John Silver from “Treasure Island” had his real counterpart. It was a poet and critic named Williams Hensley. Robert Lewis Stevenson took a prototype of a kind villain from his friend who was tuberculized and as a result his leg was knee-length amputated. After the announcement of the book release Stevenson wrote to his friend: " I must admit that John Silver having an evil appearance and a kind soul is your prototype. I know you don't take offence, right?"

Parable about Great Gemcutter

Once upon a time there was a good small town in a one far country. This town was named “the Town of Masters”. Every inhabitant of the country arriving to the Town of Masters made at least one purchase there and brought it to his house because the best goods were being sold only in the town. Only in the Town Of Master the potter made the most break – resistant and sophisticated dinnerware, the shoemakers sewed the most casual clothes and solid footwear, the bakers baked the most delicious and flavoured breads, the watchmakers made the most accurate watches, but the jewelers made the most exquisite jewelry. Once a young smiling guy appeared in the Town of Masters and directed to the small shop belonged to a famous jeweler whose works were known throughout the country.
-Good afternoon, honorable master, - the young guy said making bow to the master. – I have come to ask you about the opportunity of apprenticeship. I am able to work with gold and silver, but I am not good at gem cutting: a gem doesn’t play in such colors I want to. Don’t refuse me, teach me this craft.
-Well, - the master answered, - I can teach you. But I warn you in advance: it is a very complicated work which demands lots of patience and thoughtfulness. You can spend many years until you will be able to feel the gem and cut it in such a way so that all its mystery will be opened and multiplied in a gorgeous setting.
-I am talented, - the young guy said impatiently, - I can easily master any skills.
The master shook his head:
-Quickness in any work doesn’t bring good fruits, but in order to find out all secrets of craft – all life time will not be enough.
The guy began laughing:
-You are kidding, master! There is no better jeweler in our country than you, it means – you are a true expert of your business.
-Your truth, - the master answered sorting out the uncut gems, - But the genuine master must improve his knowledge all life long…But if you have such a strong desire to get skills of cutting of the gems, then stay here and learn!
So, the pupil stayed at the old jeweler’s house. Two years have passed, but the guy continued living in his house and learning this complicated craft. He cut more than hundred gems, but he was not satisfied with his work: the gem doesn’t play in different colors by a magic light, it doesn’t reflect the rainbow rays under the sun beams, it doesn’t flicker mysteriously in the moon light. The pupil was angry with the master, he started thinking that the master doesn’t want to tell him the main secrets of gem cutting, so he decided to find other jeweler who can teach him this craft faster.
-You are a brilliant master, - the guy started saying, - There is no better master who cuts the gems so fantastically than you, right?
-This is not quite right, - the master smirked kindly, - There is one gem cutter who exceeded any gem cutter by its skill.
-How come! – the pupil didn’t trust his ears. – Why haven’t you told me about that before?
-You haven’t asked me, - the master’s eyes flickered cunningly.
-What is his name? Where is he living? – the pupil was impatient to get the answers to his questions.
-His name is Great Gemcutter, he lives somewhere on the north, I don’t know the precise location. It was good news for the pupil, and he made a decision to leave his master at the earliest convenience and to go in search of Great Gemcutter. The opportunity came up very soon:
-If you wish, - the master said as if he read his pupil’s thoughts, - You can try to find him. Ask people around, someone must know where he lives.
-Well, I will listen to your advice, - the pupil was in the seventh heaven of happiness. – I will go right now. You had said he lives somewhere on the north?
-Yes, - the old jeweler confirmed and sighed. The pupil said goodbye to the master and went directly to the north for seeking of Great Gemcutter.
The pupil of the jeweler was going to the north during many days asking in every village about the place where Great Gemcutter lives. But people shook their heads and shrugged having no idea about Great Gemcutter. The guy continued moving and didn’t notice how the dusk came over. He paused and looked around – there was a small bonfire in the distance. “I am not alone on the field” – he was happy to see the fire and directed towards. There was a man sitting next to the bonfire, he was drinking wine from a flask, and time after time was throwing up dry brushwood into the fire.
-Such a wonderful night, isn’t it? – the jeweler’s pupil greeted a stranger. – Let me spend the night next to your bonfire?
-Good night, - the man answered, - No problem, you can sit here and have a warm.
The guy sat next to the bonfire, got bread out of the bag, and gave a piece of it to the stranger, then ate a bit by himself and began asking him about the place where Great Gemcutter lives.
-Well, I don’t know about the place he lives in, I am searching for him by myself.
The pupil of the jeweler was surprised hearing that, and wanted to ask the stranger what for he is searching for Great Gem Cutter, but the guy couldn’t finish. Suddenly there was heard a loud thud of hoofs in the field: three fiery red horses are running towards them. Their manes were waving, the ground was moving under the feet, and it seemed that the horses were about to tromp the men sitting next to the fire. The guy was scared and caught the stranger’s arm:
-Come here! Faster! Somebody’s young mad horses escaped to the field! They will tromp us!
The stranger didn’t move. He threw some more branches into the bonfire and answered calmly:
-Don’t be afraid. These are my horses.
-Yours? – the guy surprised. The stranger nodded:
-The name of the first horse is Impatience; the name of the second horse, who wants to chase and bite the first one, is Arrogance; and the name of the third horse, who widens his nostrils and hoofs the ground, is Pride.
The guy took ease and grinned:
-Your horses have the weird names.
-The names have been given before and I call them by these names, - the stranger answered and had a look at the dark sky. Somewhere not far a cicada started singing.
-I must go, guy. Good bye.
-Good bye, - the pupil of the jeweler answered, - Don’t forget to call your horses!
Having said no more word the stranger went through the field leisurely. The morning has come, the guy moved further searching for Great Gemcutter. He passed many villages asking people around about the place where Great Gemcutter could live but no one knew about that place. The guy doesn’t lose hope, and continued moving ahead stubbornly, his desire to master gem cutting craft was very strong. One day a wide river blocked the guy’s way. The bridge was still not near, and by hard adventure, it was beginning to get dusk. He decided to search for a place for the halt, he went along the bank and by his own surprise he met the stranger again.
-Hi, stranger! – the guy exclaimed joyfully, - Such a meeting!
-Good evening! – the stranger smiled, - Are you still searching for Great Gemcutter?
-Yes, I am – he answered sadly, - Without a result. Have you met him?
-No, - the stranger shook his head.
They made a fire on shore, sat to get warm and to have dinner. At that moment there was a sudden noise behind their backs. The guy turned around and saw three horses, not the fiery red ones as it was in a previous time, but the grey ones. The horses were quietly going to the river. The pupil of the jeweler had a surprised look at the stranger.
-These are your horses?
-Yes, they are mine – the stranger answered looking at the white fog which was lifting over the river.
-What are their names? – the guy asked smiling.
-The name of the horse, who drinks water from the river, is Sorrow; the name of the horse, who stands by side, is Loneliness, the name of the last horse, who creeps, is Strengthlessness.
The guy glanced at the stranger, and it seemed that the man’s back is not so straight as in a previous time and there is more grey hair on his head.
-I have never heard before people give such names to the horses, - the guy was puzzled, - Where are your fiery red horses?
-I let them go, - the stranger said calmly. And somewhere near the cicada started singing.
-I must step along. Here you have fire and bread. The warmth and food will be useful for you. I must be on the opposite shore before the dawn. Good bye.
-Good bye, - the pupil of the jeweler said, he was very surprised by the stranger and his weird horses. At sunrise the guy directed to a bridge, passed the river and moved further to the north. He went through almost all country and still has not found Great Gemcutter. One dull day he was strolling sadly thinking: “I have went through all country, but I didn’t meet Great Gemcutter. Maybe the old jeweler cheated me? I have asked everyone, no one knows or has ever heard the name of Great Gemcutter… I am not lucky. Suddenly, the sky became dark, the thunder cracked and the rain started pouring. The guy could not think what to do. He stood under a foliage of the big tree, but it didn’t save him from the storm: from above the water was flowing inside of his shirt. Then he saw a small hut at the edge of the wood glade. Without thinking, the guy ran to the shelter, but when he got into the hut he gasped: there was the stranger sitting on the ground, it was that same stranger who he had already met. But now he could be hardly recognized: it seemed his head was covered by frost – there was no a single black hair, his face was cut with wrinkles, and his shoulders were stooped as if a heavy burden was laid on them.
-Hi, old friend! – the guy greeted the stranger looking surprisingly into his eyes. – I haven’t expected to meet you again!
-Hi, guy! – the stranger answered, -Why didn’t you expect? Although, we choose different ways for searches, we have a common goal, that’s why our ways are crossed. Haven’t you met Great Gemcutter?
-No, - the guy answered sadly, - I have doubts about his existence. I have crossed all country from the south to the north, I asked people around – no one even heard about Great Gemcutter. I think it is a pack of lies…
Suddenly the thunder crashed as if the heaven is torn apart, and the rain began falling as if someone threw a deep river down from above.
-Such a disaster can kill us, - he said being frightened and sat closer to the stranger.
-No, it will not kill us, - the stranger said quietly, - Now my horses will go away and the storm will be over.
-Where are horses? I don’t see them…
-Look there! They stand next to the bushes, - the stranger answered being tired.
The guy looked out of the hut and saw: three black horses, having hung their heads down, stand next to the bushes without any movement, only water is flowing from their long manes down.
-How many horses do you have, stranger?
-I don’t have them anymore, these are the last ones, I let all go away.
-What are their names? – the guy asked quietly.
-The name of the first horse is Loss, the name of the second horse is Grief and the name of the third horse is Emptiness. You don’t need to call them, sooner or later they come themselves.
The pupil of the jeweler sneered as in the first time, he was not surprised by the stranger like in a previous time. He looked silently at the depressed horses, and his heart was filling with sadness. The horses remained a little longer, then walked back into the wood. The pouring rain became thinner, the thunder blasts became weaker, and through the rustle of the rain the guy heard the cicada was singing. It was very close. The guy looked at the stranger and asked being surprised:
-Cicada? Where did it come from? Or …, - a guess flashed upon him, - It is your cicada, right?
-It is mine, - the stranger answered simply, - it is always with me.
-Does it have the name? – the guy blinked cunningly.
-Yes, it has – the stranger answered, then paused a bit and continued: the name is Belief. By the way, I have found Great Gemcutter, - the stranger said unexpectedly.
The guy was overwhelmed.
-How come? Where have you found him?
-Right here. One hour ago he went away, - the stranger said, - As it turned out I was following him, that’s the news, - the stranger smiled tiredly, - But fortunately, there was the storm, and my horses were tired. I stopped in the hut in order to wait out the storm, and he at once caught up with me. We sat, spoke, then made farewells and left. I thought you have met him, too.
-No! I haven’t! Where is he now? Where has he gone? – the guy was in despair.
-He went to the north, he doesn’t go the other way. His house is located where the snow, cold sun and north light are… For me it is time to go home, guy.
-Home? – the guy asked sadly, - It means that you got knowledge for which you were searching for Great Gemcutter?
-Yes, - the stranger answered, - When I was young as you I had a dream: to build the highest house in the world so that it could touch the sky. I didn’t know how to build such a house. One old man prompted me that only Great Gemcutter, who knows all answers to all questions and who can teach everyone any craft, could help me. My desire was so strong that I set out in search of Great Gemcutter. It was not easy to find him, and I spent half of my life for searches.
-So now you know how to build sky high house? Did he teach you? – the pupil asked enviously.
-No, - the stranger answered quietly, - And I don’t need it anymore…You know, guy, when I was young, I was the best at cutting of the willow pennywhistles. My pennywhistles produced the sounds of different birds, they were in each house where the children were being born. While I was searching for Great Gemcutter, I heard the rumours that a city where I lived became larger and a lot of people lived there, and a lot of children walked there. But no one knew something about my willow pennywhistles. No one could make them for the children. So, I will have loads of work in the city and I am in hurry.
The stranger arose and held out his hand at parting.
-What about your sky high house? – the pupil of the jeweler sorrowed.
-It will be built by someone else, - the stranger answered flakey, - Maybe it will be built by you.
-I am not a builder, I am a jeweler, - the guy lifted his hands in dismay.
-Nevermind, -the stranger answered, - The main is belief in your strengths. If you have it you can make everything: you can build the sky high house, you can become the great gem cutter or best cutter of the pennywhistles.
With this the stranger jammed the hand into a stash pocket of the shirt and pulled out the little cicada.
-Here you are, I don’t need it anymore, - the stranger said smiling and offered to the pupil of the jeweler the odd gift.
-Why? – the guy asked at a loss.
-I have learnt its song, this melody will always sound in my heart. It will be of some use to you. Take care of it! And remember – whatever you want to reach to – this cicada must always keep singing in your stash pocket.

The stranger touched the guy’s shoulder friendly and got out of the hut. There was the sun shining in the wood, and the transparent pills of the pouring rain were flickering like the small rainbows…


© Copyright 2013 by Kseniya Malakhova
All rights are reserved.
Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Pearl for Unicorn

Hello, friends!

I am impatient to share with you joyful news! As of today my new book, a fairytale for kids, is on sale! Its title is “Pearl for Unicorn”.
The readers will visit the magic wood together with the lead character, the girl whose name is Alyonka, and her friends. They will meet its amazing inhabitants and will puzzle out numerous mysteries and secrets, will join dangerous and exciting adventures…

I will be happy if the readers like my fairytale. But I will be happy doubly when the kids and their parents while reading “Pearl for Unicorn”, suddenly will see the mysterious world which was opened for Alyonka in the Big wood. And I hope when you see this world, you will enjoy its fairytale beauty and uniqueness, and will fall in love with its incredible and fascinating world of nature which can be rescued and saved by us.
You can find my book following this link

Wishing you a nice reading!
Yours sincerely,
Kseniya Malakhova.

Why do we need stars?

-Tell me, mama, why do we need autumn? – a young hare asked making himself more comfortable on the soft feather - bed.
-Autumn? – his mum asked again. – We need autumn in order you can enjoy sweet carrots and juicy cabbaged times, else we need autumn in order you can change your light and grey coat into warm and white one before the cold weather has come.
-But why do we need winter? – the hare continued asking.
-We need winter so that your friends and you can play in the fluffy snow, else you can learn to draw tricky loops by your paws on the snow, and you can sleep more during long snowy nights…and beside that, winter comes in order to give a rest to the earth which bears carrots and cabbage, so that next autumn you can enjoy sweet vegetables.
-Why there is no summer after winter? – the hare was getting curious.
-Because after winter everything is waking up and warming up slowly; the trees and grass should drink fill melt water in order to turn towards the sun with renewed strength. Else all summer – birds must get back in time.
The hare was listening to his mum’s explanations carefully squeezing an edge of the fluffy blanket in his small fist.
-Why does the sun shine? – the hare asked again and gave a yawn. A quiet sleep was flowing into his eyes, and the hare started blinking more slowly and infrequently.
-Can you imagine there is no sun? – mum smiled and caressed the hare’s head. -The sun gives us the day, light and warmth…Do you remember how the birds rejoice its uprise? They meet the sun early in the morning and wake up us by their loud songs: “Wake up everyone! The sun has already risen!”
-Do we need the birds for that? – the hare asked sleepily.
-Yes, we need the birds for that, - mum approved kissing tenderly the hare’s pink warm nose.
The hare turned his head to the small window. He was looking quietly and musingly at the glossy glass behind which the night was spreading over like dark blue inks. The bright star – bead was flickering softly at the left edge of the curtain which was pulled not so tightly.
-Mama, - the hare called her again in a drowsy voice.
-Yes, sonny? – the doe hare caressed her little hare’s back.
-Mama, why do we need stars?
-Stars? – the doe hare repeated and looked at the window as well. The bright star, as if stuck to the glass, was playing in different colors fascinatingly spreading its slightly visible thin rays.
-Muuum, the hare called the thoughtful doe hare, - Yes, why stars? They don’t heat, don’t give water to the grass and don’t bear carrots. Why do we need them?
-Yes, the stars don’t bear carrots, - mum laughed in a low voice, - But you can converse in whispers: you can trust them your innermost secrets and tell them about your cherished dreams…
-Are the stars able to talk? – the hare wondered.
-Yes, they are - the doe hare nodded, - Only you should listen to them very carefully because they are able to talk very very quietly, almost in a whisper.
-Why in a whisper? – the hare asked.
-In order not to wake up those who sleep.
The hare was glaring at the star and was thinking intently, then no taking his eyes off it, said:
-Else we admire looking at them.
-Yes, -the doe hare agreed smiling, - Else you can kiss them, - she whispered in the hare’s ear.
-Kiss them? – the hare amazed and looked into his mum’s eyes, - But they are so far away from us, I cannot even touch them, then how can I kiss them?
-It is very simple, - the doe hare blinked mysteriously, - When you look at the stars – they are shining in your eyes, and I can kiss them. Have a look at the star, and I will kiss it now, - the doe hare asked. The hare looked at the star impatiently. Mama bent over the hare and first kissed one eye, then another one.
-Did you kiss the star? – the hare asked.
-Yes, - mum smiled.
-I want to kiss it, too. Please, mama, look at the star, - the hare exclaimed.
Having smiled, the doe hare looked at the star. The hare raised from the feather – bed, got a paw around mum’s neck, then kissed her eye, then another one.
-I have kissed the star, too – the hare said sleepily being proud, - It is warm and it tickles slightly.
-Really? – mum wondered. – I didn’t feel tickling.
-It tickles, it tickles, - the hare mumbled smiling and resting his cheek against the soft pillow.
-Do tell! – mum said smiling, - Look at the star once again, I will try to kiss it, maybe it will tickle me too?
The hare opened his sleepy eyes slightly and glanced at the star. The doe hare kissed his eyes gently.
-Indeed, it tickles just a little – she said softly and smiled, - These stars tickle slightly…
The hare was enjoying a balmy sleep. The big fluffy white snowflakes whirled up behind the window. The first snow began falling. It was flickering in the bright silvery light of the moon, it seemed that the distant stars are flying into the hare’s window, the stars which don’t bear carrots, but the stars which can be kissed…



Copyright©2012 by Kseniya Malakhova
All rights reserved. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Book Records

Recently, while editing my new book which will be on sale in the nearest future, suddenly I wonder: how many books were issued during all history of book printing? Billion ? Ten billions ? Hundred billions ? I haven’t found the answer to this question but read lots of interesting information about books, writers, antiquaries. The most interesting fact you can read right now:

Shocking edition
Russian writer Maksim Aleshin ( Nizhny Novgorod, Russia ) is preparing a book’s release which cover is made of his own skin. In such a way 40 – year-old author decided to become world – famous. The problem is that none of publishing companies didn’t agree to such an unordinary book release. But Maksim Aleshin believes that he will get a positive result in solving this issue. Then, in order not to do harm neither to editors nor to readers, Aleshin agreed to the book’s release after his death. Else, he was very disappointed to know that his skin is not enough for all collected works. But this didn’t stop the eccentric author. The title of his exclusive edition called “Living book” is tattooed on his back. At present he is busy not only with the book writing but also he takes care of his skin in beauty salons.

Literary minimalism
In 2009 in the city of Ekaterinburg Vladimir Blinov received the “Nobel Prize Buka”* for his book “ The novel with no title” which contains one phrase – “Nope! I will do it myself!”. His book was admitted as “original work of 2009 which develops the principles of minimalism in the Russian literature”. The author got a medal for this work.

*The “Nobel Prize Buka” was established in Ekaterinburg by the “Old Man Bukashkin” association, and was dedicated to the writer and artist Evgeny Malakhin. It is planning the prize will be awarded in other directions of art.

The most popular author
A British writer, queen of crime, Agatha Christie is on the first place with millions sales of her novels, 78 works were translated into 44 languages. The total amount of sold copies - 2 billions.

The most prolific author
Few writers can compete in speed of writing with the Brazilian whose name is Jose Carlos Ryoki de Alpoim Jnoue. Within ten years, from June 1986 till August 1996, he published 1046 scientific – fiction novels, vesterns and thrillers. In other words, he spent three and a half of a day for one novel writing.

The longest biography
The longest of the existed biographies is the history of life of Prime Minister Winston Churchill. It consists of eight basic volumes, sixteen additional volumes and counts approximately 10 million words. The authors of the biography is the son of famous Prime Minister Randolph and the official biographer of Churchill sir Martin Gilbert.

The book completist No.1 in the world
A U.S. citizen John Bentham who lives in Evoke, the state of Indiana, created the largest home library in the world. It consists of 1.5 million books. It is hard to imagine how much time, money and strengths he spent for setting such a record.

The most expensive book
One fine day Bill Gates was scrolling along the streets of New York and went at auction where he bought the Codex Leicester written by Leonardo Da Vinci for 30.8 million dollars. This book became not only the most expensive in the world, it is the only work authorized by Da Vinci which is in possession of the private person. Leonardo Da Vinci predicted the creation of steam engine and submarine.

The most expensive book page
Donald Sheer (Atlanta, the U.S.), one more connoisseur, bought a book page at the cost of more than 2.4 million dollars. The explanation for such a big price – it is one of the pages of Declaration of Independence issued in 1776 in Philadelphia.

The most unrealizable book
The New Testament translated by David Wilkins in 1716 and printed in an edition of 500 copies impresses by the speed of the sales. In average, one book was being sold within 20 weeks. The author made the translation from Coptic into Latin. Due to the lack of knowledge in Coptic, the translation was not precise. Probably, it became the reason why 500 copies were being sold within 191 years.

The biggest book
Until recently the biggest book has been considered “Super Book” issued in Denver ( the state of Colorado, USA) in 1976. Its measurements were 2.74 m x 3.07 m, the weight was 252.6 kg, and it consisted of 300 pages. However, in 2004 in Russia was issued a book named “The biggest book in the world for children”. Although this book has only four pages and contains 12 poems for kids, it has enormous measurements. The height is 6 m, the width is 3 m, but the weight is 492 kg. The authors of the book are the famous children’s writers Sergey Mikhalkov, Sergey Eremeev, Vladimir Stepanov and Andrey Tyunyaev. The book was being made in the open air by means of unique tools. It was stuck according to the special technology. For the XVII Moscow International Book Fair which was held on September 2004 the book was brought by a panel trailer. 15 persons took part in loading works.

The biggest manuscript
The Devil’s Bible or the Codex Gigas is the largest manuscript in the world written within one night. According to the legend, the author is a monk who committed a serious crime. As a punishment for his sin he swore to the fallen angel to write in all human knowledge and decorated the manuscript with miniatures in one single night. In such a way he glorified the Benedictine monastery of Podlažice, Czech Republic for many ages. Finally, the monk sold his soul to the Devil who helped him in writing the manuscript on time. From 1648 the manuscript is kept at the National Library of Sweden in Stockholm.

The smallest book
According to the official record the smallest book “New Testament” was issued in 2001 by the Massachusetts institute of technology, its measurements are 5 x 5 mm. But in 2002 the Russian microminiaturist Anatoly Konenko created a book by Anton Chekhov, Chameleon, which measurements are 0.9 x 0.9mm. In this year this copy was defined in the Guinness Book of Records.

Best – selling book
There is no doubt the bestseller for ages is the Bible. From 1815 its number of printed copies exceeds 2.5 billion. According to the other data 3.9 billion of copies were sold from 1815 up to 1999. The contemporary best – selling book is the Guinness Book of World Recor