Dream Crafters of Marimoor
– a Christmas fantasy for all ages
In Dream Crafters of Marimoor, author Gary Carmichael masterfully captivates the reader with revelation of the extraordinary lifestyle of Marimoor, a quaint village nestled just beyond the picturesque and lush setting of Kellanord Valley. The exaggerated movements with which its citizens scurry about town are only one indication of their fast-paced and comical world. But little do Marimoorians realize they are literally one dream away from catastrophe.Legends abound of a civilization of tiny subterranean-dwellers known as Liverwurts. No one in Marimoor truly believes they exist, save for one or two. Truth be told, Liverwurts play a key role in maintaining the social and personal well-being of all Marimoorians through the art of dream crafting. But during one fateful Christmas season Marimoor’s dream world is utterly disrupted. Only the decisive actions of one Liverwurt family, the Fyndobblers, can overturn the adversity that grips Marimoor’s world.
The fable of the Liverwurts is not to be believed. No, not one word of that I am sure. I record this account merely so that I may make mockery of the very notion that such mystical creatures actually exist, even if only to soothe the uneasiness within my own mind. To think that I once put heart and soul into embracing their existence; seeking positive proof that no man could deny, only to conclude most logically that there could never be such colonies living among us or anywhere in the world for that matter.
I suppose the entire populace of the world has heard of the land called Marimoor, though most assuredly no one possessing even the slightest bit of logic truly believes in its existence. Much like the magical land visited by Dorothy and Toto, we know this to be merely a concoction of the imagination when in a sudden blast of the wind’s fury, a window frame strikes a forehead and the mind conjures celebrated tales of a wondrous land over the rainbow. But we want so desperately to believe that such an enchanting place does exist, if only to subconsciously escape the difficulties of this present world for but a moment. Yet our maturing minds would just not allow us to quite hold fast to the dreams that we wish to be so much more.
Why, I am almost embarrassed that I adopted such a notion as Marimoor or its inhabitants, so much so that I will chronicle these conjured adventures of the Liverwurts so that you too may know the truth and not be drawn away from reality. Only then can all humanity be free from such valueless activities as I have endured. Only then can the mind be at peace.
Only then can the Liverwurts be left alone…
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