In Gleaming Lights

There is a special kind of magic that only a well told story can boast of having. The kind that brings memories the forefront, clear and crisp as though they were only just formed. Bright as carnival lights.

Recently, I've been making my slow way through the Sanderson Secret Projects and Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is shaping up to be an absolute favourite. Maybe my second favourite story the mind of Sandon the Mandon Branderson has ever created.

I only want to share one small, locational spoiler from the novel, so if you would rather exactly nothing be revealed, then read no further. For everyone else...

Yumi and Painter go to a carnival. In the strange way of their interactions, only one is corporeal, but that barely matters to what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to sincerely thank Mr. Sanderson for the scene where they ride the Ferris Wheel. That scene means more to me than he, or any of you, dear reader, will ever fully understand.

At the tail end of summer in 2022, I was in a relationship. I know, I know, please hold your gasps of surprise. I've mentioned this relationship a few times, as it was and still is of paramount importance to my development as a person. Being the first relationship I'd had since I was 15 (back in 2013), and the first encounter with romance that didn't leave me with scars, it was incredibly important.

But I don't want to talk about that.

Rather, I want to talk about one magical night and the story that brought it back to me.

I don't recall the exact date of the... well... date, but I remember everything about it so clearly. It had been her idea that we go to the Carp Fair and spend the night in a hotel. "Why not," I remember thinking, "sounds like a lot of fun." So we did.

That date gave to us several wonderful things.

First and foremost, it showed us a pub/restaurant in the area that became incredibly special to us going forward. It had been a favourite of hers in her youth, and given the year I spent living in England, she thought I would love it too. She was right.

Next, it gave us that aforementioned night away from home. Leaving out the more... hmm... private details, that night was lovely. And it was a source of entertainment for us, a corner stone of our early relationship, that was relevant and beloved until the end. Large portions of the evening I still find myself laughing at. (No. Not like that. Mind out of the gutter, please.)

But above all the rest, shining in my mind, was the one ride we took on the wheel.

She told me, as we went through the Carnival laughing at the silly teenagers all around us, that she had always dreamed of being kissed at the top of a Ferris Wheel. I can so clearly remember how shy she was, looking up at me from under her thick, black eyelashes, asking if I would join her.

How could I have said no to that lovely face?

And besides, I'd had the same secret desire my whole, shall we call it 'awakened,' life. Being a deeply repressed hopeless romantic, I jumped at the opportunity to do that for her. And for myself.

Now, we come to the discussion of the novel. Leaving aside the fascinating magic system and deeply intricate mystery of the novel (incidentally, it's a wholehearted recommendation from me) the romance between these two characters spoke to me. I connected with a lot of both of their struggles, Painter's more than Yumi's, and was rooting for them to work out. More than just survive the trials of the plot, I wanted them to work out.

And then they rode the Ferris Wheel. (Of course, it wasn't called that in the book. Given that I'm pretty sure it ran on magic, it had a different name but I'm calling it something familiar.)

Sanderson's descriptions of how Painter was fascinated with Yumi, enthralled by her, completely present in the moment as her face glowed with the lights of the carnival captured me. I was entranced. Then the memories surfaced.

I expected them to be sad, melancholic, bittersweet. But they were none of those things. I remembered how we laughed together, how happy she was to see the horses, how I made her smile with a witty remark, and how it felt to have her hand in mine as we wandered through the small craft market. I remembered how nervous I was, finally doing something I'd always wanted to do with a beautiful girl. And how lucky I felt when she looked at me, saw me and finally chose me.

Sanderson described Painter looking at Yumi, blind to the carnival beneath him, blind to the city around him, and thinking that he had the best view in the whole world. I remembered feeling exactly the same thing. It was as though the author had reached into my memories and pulled out something I had almost forgotten. Something wonderful.

For plot and magic reasons, Painter and Yumi could not share what I was able to share with my date on that wheel. He wasn't able to lean forward, gently cup her face in his hand and kiss her, then pull back and tell her the truth, that she was beautiful. But I could. And I did. He wasn't able to watch her warmest smile as it spread across her face, glowing to challenge the carnival lights at his words. But I could. Painter wasn't able to put his arm around Yumi, sharing his warmth with her as a cold wind gently rocket their seat on the way back down to the ground. But. I. Could.

My brain is a strange thing. It struggles to hold on to happy memories, and I'm working hard on that. It takes a good deal of effort, but it is also getting easier for me. And Sanderson gave me the gift of those memories. Yumi and her nightmare painter gave me those memories back.

Together they let me see her straight, dark hair fall down her back as she walked ahead of me again. Let me remember the red, fur-lined shawl that she loved to wear when it was cold again. Let me remember her glowing face on the Ferris Wheel as we shared the completion of a dream together. Let me remember every possible detail of that perfect night again, a night that I had almost forgotten.

Fiction is a magical thing. It gives us gifts we never expect. It can transport us away from our real lives, bring us to places of magic and wonder and adventure within its pages. But it also reminds us of the magic and wonder we've lived. It can reach into our pasts, deep into the forgotten recesses of our minds and give us back something precious we had lost.

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter did that for me. It gave me such a wonderful gift that I doubt I'll ever be able to appreciate as much as it deserves. Thanks to Yumi and Painter, I was able to see her again, if only in my dreams. Her beautiful face and dark, kind eyes, glowing under the gleaming lights.

Thank you so much for walking down memory lane with me :)