Friday, June 21, 2013

Homes But Not Houses

One of my favorite books as a kid was the Boxcar Children.
Not the series.
Only the first book.
Another favorite was Little House on the Prairie.
The Elevator Family.
Eloise at the Plaza. (And yes, I do want to be Eloise when I grow up. I am not embarrassed by this in the slightest.)

And a whole lot of other books, which, at the moment, aren’t important to today’s ramblings.
I loved the books, primarily because of where the people lived.
The Boxcar Children were so much fun BECAUSE they lived in a boxcar.
Little House on the Prarie? When they lived in the side of a hill? And the cow walked over their roof? Man, good times.
The Elevator Family? Hello! They LIVED IN AN ELEVATOR.
And Eloise needs no explanation in the slightest. Because it’s Eloise. Really.
I don’t know what exactly is with my fascination with houses that aren’t the normative houses. It started pretty early on- I remember drawing pictures of all kinds of homes- ones that were very far from the house with two windows and a chimney. Homes built into flowers were a favorite for a while.

The obsession hasn’t waned- there was an article a little while ago about an entire community that was built in South America where all of the homes were IN TREES.

To say I lost my mind a little bit is an under exaggeration.

Crossville, TN. I SHOULD GO AND VISIT. image via
Seriously? I would have been on the next plane moving there if not for small things like finishing school semesters and lack of money.
One of the highlights of my childhood was going camping with my grandparents- and I, to this day, love, love, love going camping.

But when they got an RV a few years ago?
Let me just say that if I could just travel around in that RV for a year, that would be the GREATEST THING EVER.
No, we will talk about my need to travel a different time. (And whoo boy, will we.)

I’m working on a new WIP now (well, I was working on around six and I’ve finally narrowed it down to one for now, which makes writing a lot easier), and I’ve realized that every story I’ve written, recently and in general, all have one similarity.
Probably more than one, but one glaring one.
Every single one of them has a character who lives in something that isn’t exactly the regular house.
The not-house obsession isn’t just me- I’ve had the conversation with many people, and all of them have said the same thing.

Why are we so fascinated by homes that don’t look like the homes we’re used to? Is it the fascination of the unknown? Of the foreign and exotic?
Is all of it some sort of projection of our ability to make a home anywhere we go?

So I'm just going to sit here and psychoanalyze myself. Feel free to join :)
Hope y'all are having a fabulous week!


This is a Thursday's Children blog post- a weekly blog hop in which we blog about what has inspired us this week. Feel free to check out what everyone else is doing by clicking here.


  1. Great post and very inspirational. I've been to South America and I remember being so startled that many of the houses I went in had neither windows or screens. (Sadly, I didn't see any awesome houses in trees on my trip, though.) Good luck on your new WIP.

  2. Oh my god, I LOVED the Boxcar Children- also only the first book. Now I know why ;-)

    The Littles were fun too- I mean, how cool would it be to have your own little home inside the walls of some giant's house?

    1. Right??? Life seems so much more fun when your house is funky. :)

  3. Wow Boxcar was one of my faves, too. I think it's way my favourite way to travel is still be train. Thanks for joining us!