Book Review: Falling Snow by Skye Hoffert

When I found out that long-time friend and writing pal Skye Hoffert had won a spot in Rooglewood Press's Five Poisoned Apples, I was ecstatic! We've been beta readers for each others' stories a couple times before, and what always struck me about her writing were the characters. Stark. Gritty. Brimming with dangerous life. So to hear that the world would finally get a chance to meet some of them made me squeal with joy!


I was kindly provided an e-book copy of Five Poisoned Apples in exchange for a review of Skye's winning story, Falling Snow.* (Of course, I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions are my own.)


*And once I get my hands on a print copy, stay tuned for a review of the full anthology!

Falling Snow

Snow White at the circus--that was the first thing to grab my attention. And that grungy setting kept me entranced right to the final page. Skye succeeds in painting the two faces of the circus with vibrant brushstrokes, both the glamorous veneer and the dank shadows beneath.


The next thing to hook me in was, of course . . .

The Characters (most of whom are fae!)

Snow: She's not the timid, cutesy thing of the Disney film. This Snow is guarded, capable, and wounded. If you've read the story, you know how much her emotions pop in the wire-walking scene!


Chayse: Easily my favorite character! Fiery abilities, a tortured relationship with his mother, and a tattered/hobo-like appearance make him a unique and lovable romantic interest.


Cynfael: He's everything you expect a fae prince to be, with a healthy helping of snark added to his cunning personality. He and Chayse sort of share the roles of prince and huntsman . . . but I shan't say more. Spoilers, sweetie.


The dwarves: They're a ragtag group of clowns who, in their own gruff way, look after Snow. Goodness knows she needs it.


The queen: She's the sort of villainess I love to hate, and she personifies the circus itself with her glittering mask hiding a heart of rot.


Alilion: He doesn't show up much, but he seems to play a minor role as the mirror. Also detestable, as one might expect.

So what about the plot?

Trust me, if you think you know the tired old "Mirror, mirror, on the wall," set up, you'll get a pleasant surprise here. The classic pieces have been rearranged on the chessboard, with some very clever twists to keep you on your toes.


Plot is my biggest struggle in novellas because it's hard to contain within such a small word limit. But Skye ratchets up the suspense and advances the game so deftly, I nearly forgot I wasn't reading a full novel. Even though I'd read an early draft, my heart was pounding at all the right moments! And there's just enough time before reaching The End to breathe a sigh of relief.

A dark blend of Once Upon a Time and The Greatest Showman, Falling Snow is a riveting start to the Five Poisoned Apples collection! I can't wait to see what Skye writes next.

P.S. In the meantime, go pay Skye a visit at her blog, Ink Castles! She's an artist as well as a writer, so poke around to find her paintings.

SilmAwards - Most Magnificent Dragon Winner!

All is black. But the blackness feels big, as if the ceiling must be far overhead and the walls many spans apart. There is a rustling and the warmth of many bodies gathered in one place. Hushed whispers pass back and forth.

Then with a whoosh, torches flame to life and illuminate a massive cavern. Stalactites jag from the ceiling like great teeth. At one end, a stone slab is raised to serve as a stage, and the crowd of people are gathered before it.

"Greetings!" I shout from the stage, my voice echoing without the use of a microphone. "What a fine turnout we've had for the 2018 Silmaril Awards. Welcome to the final ceremony--today Smaug himself will award a Silmaril to the most magnificent dragon!"

Cheers resound.

"Before he arrives, just a quick recap in case you missed any of the awards ceremonies." I pull a list from my pocket. "This year's winners have included a very sportsmanlike but incompetent henchman, a collection of mischevous imps, a rather strange and sock-ish fellow, a not-so-little faithful friend, a beloved silver tongue, a wise and academically-inclined counselor, a glamorous villain, a princely hero, and a spirited heroine."

I gulp in a deep breath. "And now I do believe I'll pass things off to--"

A great rumbling fills the cavern. Guests look around worriedly.

"MY ARMOR IS LIKE TENFOLD SHIELDS," a voice booms from someplace unseen. "MY TEETH ARE SWORDS, MY CLAWS SPEARS, THE SHOCK OF MY TAIL A THUNDERBOLT, MY WINGS A HURRICANE, AND MY BREATH DEATH!"

Flames gush from a side passage. All at once, a humongous red-golden dragon bursts into the cavern and leaps onto stage. I sidestep to avoid the thrash of his tail.

"Smaug!" I say. "We were just talking about--"

"SILENCE!" he roars. "You have summoned me to present another Silmaril, and a Silmaril I shall present. Where are the worthy contestants?" He swings his head back and forth, luminous eyes scanning the audience. Everyone shrinks back in fear.

A much smaller, black dragon is the only one to chitter happily, a gleaming gem hanging around his neck.

"Ah, the toothless winner of last year," Smaug says. "I should hope this year's victor boasts a few more teeth than you, night fury."

Toothless grins, teeth rising from his gums to flash in the firelight.

I clap my hands together, lest these two dragons begin a fire fest, and call out, "Contestants, please come forward!"

Five figures venture out from another side tunnel and join us on the stony stage. I pull a scroll from my other pocket and unroll it so Smaug can read it. He lowers his head and peers at the scroll with one eye.

"In fifth place with twenty votes . . ." He glances at the contestants. "Kazul from The Enchanted Forest Chronicles."

Kazul bows her head to the audience and flies off the stage.

"Fraternizes with humans, that one," Smaug mutters. "I smell princess all over her. Ahem. In fourth place with twenty-two votes . . . Gem from The Ilyon Chronicles."

A blue and black dragoness flutters her wings in thanks, then joins Kazul on the ground.

"Do all these dragons make friends with men?" Smaug grumbles. "I should think such friendships diminish their magnificence, small though it may be."

"Not all dragons believe that magnificence is measured by gold and power," I say.

He snorts a plume of smoke and returns to the scroll. "In third place with thirty-five votes . . . Death-in-Life from Tales of Goldstone Wood."

An imposing dragon with black scales and glittering eyes shoots a tongue of flame. "Third place? How dare the hearts of men reject me!"

Smaug chuckles deep in his throat. "Now there's a more magnificent beast. Not quite so magnificent as myself, of course."

Death-in-Life storms from the cavern with a mighty shriek. By the relieved sighs from the audience, all are glad to see him leave.

"In second place with forty-four votes . . . Malcolm Blackfire from The Afterverse."

This time, boisterous cheers erupt as a great red dragon with piercing golden eyes steps forward. "Yes, yes, Headmaster of Warrengate Academy of Advanced Magic and all that rot. I must say, I am surprised to hear you cheering for me in this scaly form. Usually you prefer to see me in my natural state." Fire crackles and whirls around him, and he dwindles to a much smaller form. The blaze vanishes, leaving behind a tall, lanky man with grey-streaked red hair. He brushes an ember from the sleeve of his suit jacket. "Is this better?"

The audience whistles and claps all the louder.

Smaug thumps his tail, shaking the stone slab. "A dragon who is a man? Could your selection become any worse? Away with you, shape shifter."

"Careful, Volcano-Breath," Malcolm snaps. "In my dragon form, I'm really quite deadly." But he stalks off the stage just the same.

"Well," I say brightly. "It should be obvious now who the winner is. You may feel free to return to your Mountain now, Smaug . . ."

Before I can roll up the scroll, Smaug gets a glimpse of the final name. He spits a fireball, and I only just manage to let go of the scroll before it is consumed.

"WHAT IS THIS OUTRAGE?" He whirls around to face the last contestant, a small boy standing all alone with his hands behind his back.

The boy blanches under Smaug's stare. "Er . . . hullo, Sir Dragon. I'm Eustace Clarence Scrubb, but I'd prefer if you called me Eustace. Or Scrubb would do just--"

"A BOY?" Smaug roars. "I thought this award was to go to the most magnificent dragon, yet here the people have muddied the waters and voted for . . . for weak, incompetent, folly-some humans." Sparks fly from his large maw with every word, and the audience shuffles backward to put more space between themselves and Smaug's rage.

"He did receive a whopping seventy-three votes, Smaug," I say.

"Now see here," Eustace cries, "if you incinerate me, Mr. Dragon, I'll call the British Consul!"

I send him a warning look.

Eustace straightens his shirt and turns a little red. "I mean, that wouldn't be proper. You see, I was a dragon once."

"You?" sneers Smaug.

"Yes. And I'm all the better for it. It was a miserable experience, but thank Aslan I came out the other side of that ordeal a very different boy."

"Aslan?" More smoke pours from Smaug's nostrils. "And who, pray tell, is he?"

"Only the greatest king there ever was, the Son of the Emperor Across the Sea." Eustace pauses, and his eyes seem to tear up with memories. "He's a lion."

Smaug roars louder than ever and grit falls from the ceiling. "Enough! When you foolish folk decide to cease turning the Silmaril Awards into a circus, then perhaps you may call me to present again. I am through!" He beats his powerful wings and flies from the cavern, nearly snuffing out the torches in his wake.

I chuckle nervously. "Ah, he'll cool down before next year. In the meantime, Eustace, may I just say that I think you are a most worthy recipient of this year's Silmaril." I reach into yet another pocket and beckon him nearer.


Eustace approaches and kneels before me.


"Congratulations, Eustace." I pull out a gleaming red pendant, a jewel hanging from a satin ribbon, and loop it over his head. "Let this be a reminder of where you have traveled and what you have become!"


Eustace breaks into a grin and stands to his feet as the audience breaks into the most thunderous applause yet.

"And that, my friends, concludes the 2018 Silmaril Awards!" I shout. "Thank you all! I bid you all a very fond farewell!"

SilmAwards Voting Round - Most Magnificent Dragon

Wasn't that a delightful flurry of activity last week? It was such fun seeing the nominations come pouring in across all ten categories of the Silmaril Awards! I think my TBR stack has grown . . . *gulp* . . . a few feet taller.


Now comes the time for the top five nominations in every category to move on to the voting round. While tallying up the scaly critters flying and flaming across Adventure Awaits this weekend, I had the misfortune of getting in the crossfire of several worthy dragons all vying for a spot in the top five. There was, you see, a four-way tie for the fifth spot. Competition was fierce. I even sport the burns, claw marks, and singed hair to prove it. But it's a small price to pay as a SilmAwards host.


So which dragons wrangled their way into the voting round?

Malcolm Blackfire from the Afterverse by Kyle Robert Schultz

Ancient. Mysterious. Sarcastic. Scottish. (Well, Caledonian, if we’re being technical.) Malcolm has little patience for humanity, and is not above immolating those who annoy him. However, when great evil arises in the Afterlands, he will ultimately fight to save humans--even though his methods cannot always be described as “heroic”. Plus, while he will never admit it, he has a fondness for the pathetic non-dragons, so long as they don’t try to pilfer from his hoard. His ability to shift into human form has allowed him to wear many hats over the centuries: military general, archaeologist, and even headmaster of a magical school. But all the same, he doesn’t feel truly himself unless he’s curled up on a pile of gold. Or soaring above the rooftops, shooting fireballs at peasants, but he doesn’t get many chances to do that in this tiresome modern age.

Gem from the Ilyon Chronicles by Jaye L. Knight

This non-speaking female dragon with blue and black scales is brave in battle and seems to understand her new rider's fear of heights. After her previous rider tragically perished, she was hurt and depressed until her new rider nursed her back to health. Now she is his faithful dragon.

Eustace Clarence Scrubb from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis

Although not a dragon by nature, this petulant young boy spent some time in dragon form during his adventures aboard the Dawn Treader. It was a rather disagreeable experience, but the very scales that hardened his skin turned out to soften his heart. Eustace was never quite the same again (and you can be sure his cousins were most grateful for the change).

Kazul from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede

Kazul is fairly level-headed, for a dragon, though sometimes she can let her dislike for wizards overwhelm her... she's been known to eat more than one, especially if they are found inside the borders of her realm (she is King of the Dragons, after all) or messing with dragonsbane, a plant toxic to dragons. A while back, she agreed to take a princess who volunteered to be captured by a dragon, and the arrangement has been beneficial to both of them, as Cimorene's ability to bake Cherries Jubilee and organize her treasure room leaves Kazul with the ability to focus on the more difficult aspects of ruling her subjects.

Death-in-Life from Tales of Goldstone Wood by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

Whether he walks as a tall, pale-skinned man or a massive, black-scaled dragon, Death-in-Life has been known to strike terror in the hearts of many. The lives of men mean little to him, to the point that he gambles with his evil sister for their souls. Deathly poison clouds any place he settles. With a kiss on the brow, he steals the hearts of the unguarded and turns them into dragons themselves. He is so feared that his name has become a curse.

Remember, the voting period is open from September 10-14!

Use the voting form below to cast your votes for all ten categories! Note: you only need to vote once, but you may want to visit all ten participating blogs to read descriptions of the contestants.


CLICK HERE TO CAST YOUR VOTES.


Least Competent Henchman // Jenelle Schmidt

Most Nefarious Villain // Kyle Robert Schultz
Most Epic Hero // E.E. Rawls
Most Epic Heroine // Madeline J. Rose
Most Magnificent Dragon // right here!
Most Faithful Friend // Savannah Grace
Most Mischievous Imp // Abbey Stellingwerff
Strangest Character // Zachary Totah
Silver Tongue // DJ Edwardson
Wisest Counselor // Deborah O'Carroll

SilmAwards - Most Magnificent Dragon Nominations

Welcome, my friends, to the third annual Silmaril Awards!

The Silmaril Awards are like the Oscars for fantasy characters. And you get to nominate (and later vote) for your most beloved heroes, villains, sidekicks, and more! I look forward to this time every year. There's such an outpouring of energy and enthusiasm among fans as we chat about our favorite fantasy books and the characters who live within.

Rules

We have a shiny new website officially set up this year, with the full rundown on rules and past winners right HERE. Here's a brief explanation of how the awards work:

• You may nominate as many characters as you wish.
• You may also second as many characters nominated by others as you choose. The more "seconds" (and thirds, fourths, etc) a character receives, the more likely that character will move on to the voting round, which will be the top five most nominated characters from each category.
• Nominations are allowed for fantasy book characters only! (Movie characters are not allowed, unless the book came first).
• The Silmaril Awards are "lifetime" awards. Characters who have already won a Silmaril in previous years are not eligible to win the same award again (though they may win other awards.) For a list of past winners, please visit silmarilawards.com.

Important Dates

Mark your calendars so you don't miss out on anything!

Nominations run from September 3-7 // This is when you throw alllll your favorite characters into the ring in hopes they'll get seconded/thirded/fourthed/etc. by others.

Voting runs from September 10-14 // This is when you pull out your hair and scream into the void over the impossibility of choosing between the top five nominations in each category.

Awards ceremonies take place September 17-28 // This is when you wait with bated breath for the winners to be announced! A coveted Silmaril will be awarded to each winner by one of Tolkien's famed characters.

Speaking of Tolkien, his characters are not eligible for the awards! Why, you ask with a gasp? Because his works set such a standard for the fantasy genre, and because they are beloved by so many, we thought the characters of Middle Earth deserved to be presenters of the awards rather than contestants. (Or else they'd steal the show!)

Awards Categories

Head over to each stop this week to nominate characters in all the categories!

Least Competent Henchman // Jenelle Schmidt
Most Nefarious Villain // Kyle Robert Schultz
Most Epic Hero // E.E. Rawls
Most Epic Heroine // Madeline J. Rose
Most Magnificent Dragon // right here!
Most Faithful Friend // Savannah Grace
Most Mischievous Imp // Abbey Stellingwerff
Strangest Character // Zachary Totah
Silver Tongue // DJ Edwardson
Wisest Counselor // Deborah O'Carroll

Most Magnificent Dragon Nominations

With that said, I am ever so pleased about hosting the Most Magnificent Dragon category! After hosting Wisest Counselor and Best Riddling and Poetry*, it seemed only natural to let my favorite scaly creatures invade Adventure Awaits.

*which was later renamed to Silver Tongue, FYI


What sort of dragon are we looking for? Why, the most magnificent kind, of course! That could mean the humongous dragons with infernos in their bellies . . . or the miniature, kitten-like dragons with big personalities . . . or the clever, gold-hoarding dragons with a gleam in their eyes. It could be the dragons that make you cower under the blankets in fear, the ones that make your heart swell with noble happiness, or the ones that make you want a dragon for your best friend. Talking dragons, non-speaking dragons, good ones and bad ones and in-between ones--we want you to head down to the comments and nominate your favorites! (As many as you wish, remember!)

It's up to you. Those winged beasts of terror and majesty aren't going to nominate themselves!

P.S. Don't forget, last year's winner of the Most Magnificent Dragon Silmaril was Toothless, so he's no longer eligible.


P.P.S. Share on social media and grab all your fantasy-loving friends to come nominate characters too! Use #SilmAwards or #SilmAwards2018.


P.P.P.S. If you have any questions about the awards or how they work, ask away in the comments.

Holes in the Literary World Part 1 - Realism in Fantasy

Thanks to the response on the recent Beautiful People post, we're launching another blog series! This one is on five of the holes in the literary world that I'd like to see filled. (Credit goes to the lovely Arielle of The Splendor Falls on Castle Walls and Intuitive Writing Guide for suggesting this.)


The first point we're tackling today is realism, specifically in speculative fiction. "Wait just a dragon-blessed minute," you might be thinking. "The very reason I read speculative fiction is to get away from boring reality. If you make fantasy or sci-fi realistic, will you obliterate every dragon and spaceship entirely?"


To that I say, "No."


Because I agree, one reason we love speculative fiction is the otherworldliness of it all! I love dragons! I love superheroes and tech that doesn't really exist. I love quests and kingdoms and new worlds and magic and everything else that comes with these genres. And I love these things so much that when I read about them, I want to be able to suspend my disbelief long enough to fully enjoy the story. I want to forget that Narnia's not really at the back of the wardrobe. I want to forget that superheroes aren't actually blazing over New York. I want to believe just for a few hundred pages that elementals can shape lightning with their hands, dragons rule the skies, and a portal could suck me into another realm at any minute.


That's what I mean by realism. Not an absence of wonder, but a means of grounding a story so that my mind is free to wonder.


Here are just a few ways that can be achieved. Keep in mind this is opinion time--these are things that help me personally to connect to a story (regardless of genre, actually), but your list might look a bit different!

1. I want all my senses engaged.

This is particularly important for fantasy, or any book that introduces a new world. Fantasy readers want to be immersed. For the duration of the book, they want to live and breathe a new place. But even the most amazing worldbuilding falls flat if the reader feels like a spectator, rather than like he's inside that world right alongside the characters. Using the five senses is one of the easiest ways to make such a connection.


I want the story details to be deftly painted--neither overwritten to the point of eyeball exhaustion, nor skimmed over with barely a glance. I'd rather not wade through pages of exposition on what a single setting looks like, but neither do I want to encounter "White Room Syndrome." It's a bothersome thing when visual details are so lacking that it feels as if the characters are talking heads floating in a white room.)

[via Pinterest]

I want to see the thunderclouds roiling, the sun beaming through a dusty windowpane, the moss growing like skirts around massive oak trees, the unraveling hem of a peasant's cloak, the dents and scratches in a knight's shield.


I want to hear the characters' voices, the ambient background noises, the clamor of battle, the patter of rain on the roof, the snap of a log in the fire, the rush of wings.


I want to feel the aching muscles after a long day's ride, the damp rock of a cavern wall, the electric tingle of portal jumping, the swaying of a precarious rope bridge, the blistering flames springing from my hand with only a word.


I want to taste and smell the rain in the air, the smoke of a burning building, the butter melting into fresh bread, the acrid scent of a witch's brew, the coppery blood when I'm punched in the teeth.


In short, I want to feel like I'm there.

Some books that succeeded in this:

• The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater // I can't recommend the entire series due to the amount of language and some worldview disagreement, but she is marvelous at conveying setting and atmosphere.
• The Tales of Goldstone Wood series by Anne Elisabeth Stengl // Incredible depth and scope! Even though it's written in an omniscient point of view, I can see and feel everything.
• Wither by Savannah Jezowski // Part of the Five Enchanted Roses anthology. Very immersive and engaging.

2. I want the emotions to pop.

This is where so many books fall short. Maybe I'm just particular about how I like my characters, but the number one thing I look for is connection. I don't want to just feel like I'm walking the same dusty road or smelling the same ancient library as they are--I want to smile with their joy, weep with their sorrow, cringe at their pain. I want my pulse to race. I want my breath to catch. I want to feel a laugh rising in my chest.


In fact, I think the lack of realistic emotions is one reason speculative tropes feel so . . . well, cliché. Like two-dimensional cardboard cut-outs with little more than tradition to prop them up. But that also means there's an incredible opportunity to breathe fresh live into those well-worn tropes with grounded, relatable emotions and reactions!




[via Pinterest]

You're the chosen one? Great. What does that feel like? Actually? The crushing pressure, the crippling self-doubt, the spine-tingling excitement . . . You're alienated from your friends and family. You're elevated to a spot of high publicity, usually in very short order. A whole kingdom, or perhaps a whole world, is riding on your shoulders. You're probably not ready for the task ahead of you. Oh, and guess what? You're probably sixteen and haven't even figured out high school. I want to experience that chaotic spectrum of emotions!

You're a superhero? Love it! Let me feel what it's like to discover your powers, to live a double life, to save the very world that critiques and condemns you, to accept a role you never asked for.

You're fighting an epic fantasy battle? Okay, put me on the battlefield. Let's hear the chaos and see the carnage, utterly stripped of the soaring musical soundtracks and nicely choreographed movements. Let's feel the desperation, the animalistic actions mixed with startling humanity. Do it tastefully, but show me the heartbreak of war. And don't forget to show me the damaging emotional aftereffects.

I could go on and on! Basically, what I'm looking for is real humans within the strangeness of spec fic. I'll believe your dragons are real if I can believe in the living, breathing, thinking, feeling people in their midst.

Some books that succeeded:

• A Time to Die by Nadine Brandes // I felt Parvin's ups and downs so deeply. One of the most thought-provoking books I've read.
• Eye of the Oracle by Bryan Davis // Despite the fact that this sweeping story covers entire centuries, I felt all of the major characters' struggles.
• The Lunar Chronicles series by Marissa Meyer // Every character is well-drawn, and each point of view is arresting and immediate. Cinder in particular offers a deep perspective.

3. I want to the world to be beautifully balanced.

Yes, I want some fabulous worldbuilding! Give me convincing cultures and subcultures, populated by believable people, anchored in a world that's so tightly woven it seems as if it's always spun on its axis. Give me realistic politics where nothing is as black and white as we wish it were. Give me geography that makes sense. Give me history that builds upon itself and affects the current storyworld. Give me realistic prejudices, worldviews, values, fears, and desires that spring naturally from the world you've created. Give me something that has meaning, something nearly as textured and intricate as our own planet earth.

There are books, particularly in fantasy, that feel as if they're checking off a series of worldbuilding boxes. Like the author took a template* and divided everything into little boxes. Each individual box is cool, but none of them work together cohesively. They're cogs on a wheel, but each are different sizes, so when the wheels start turning, the story jolts. And suddenly I'm a spectator again--or worse, a critic with a red pen.


*By the by, there is absolutely nothing wrong with using templates! I've done it! They're great for helping a writer beef up the parts of their storyworld they tend to neglect.


What I'm looking for is a story where all the moving parts fit together, and each element affects all the others. For example, if we look at a fictional kingdom's geography, that aspect alone should play a crucial role in:

• natural resources, exports, and imports
• political position
• global influence or lack thereof
• culture
• dress
• food
• history
• wars
• etc.

Are they landlocked? Do they have access to other countries? How rich are they in resources? Which ones? Are these resources scarce in other parts of the world? How does the climate affect what the people wear, eat, and do? What parts of the country's geography are strategic advantages or disadvantages? How has that impacted wars fought on their soil? Who are their geographic neighbors? Are they on good terms? Do mountains or oceans separate them from each other? There's so much to delve into based on a single aspect of worldbuilding!


But the book doesn't have to show all of this "on screen." That would get rather dry and boring pretty quickly. And because the book is a work of fiction, the author could spend the rest of his or her life developing a single world and never getting around to writing the story that's supposed to take place in it! So I'm certainly not asking for a set of encyclopaedias about every made-up world. I just want the slice of the world I see on the page to be cohesive and natural.

Some books that succeeded:

• The Tales of Goldstone Wood series by Anne Elisabeth Stengl
• The Auralia Thread series by Jeffrey Overstreet
• The Bright Empires series by Stephen Lawhead
• Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clark

In short, I'd love to see more speculative fiction that immerses me in a believable world and makes me truly feel with the characters.

There are many, many wonderful books that do some or all three points on this list, and I've shared only a few of them! I hope this literary hole continues to be filled in the future. Yes, it's a pretty tall order. But it's possible.


And as a side note, it's important to take into account that not all books are trying to do the same things (which could be a whole 'nother post on its own!), so not every book will hit all of these points with the same amount of gusto, nor do they automatically need to.


But at the end of the day, if a novel can make me feel deeply connected to the characters and solidly anchored in their world, I will probably scream my happiness from the rooftops! That's the kind of fiction I'm hungry for!

Okay, your turn! What's something you see lacking in the world of books? Is there anything you'd add to this list? Oh, and hit me up with your realistic speculative fiction recommendations! (That's a mouthful.)

Book Review: The Story Peddler

Hello, questers! I'm popping up in the middle of the week to chuck a book at you! Nicely, of course, because I am not a violent bookdragon (usually). But I just finished reading The Story Peddler, Lindsay A. Franklin's debut novel that released today,* and I. AM. IN. LOVE.


*Today being May 1st, but only just barely. I meant to post this in the morning!

Isn't it gorgeous?!

* * *

Tanwen doesn’t just tell stories—she weaves them into crystallized sculptures that sell for more than a few bits. But the only way to escape the control of her cruel mentor and claw her way from poverty is to set her sights on something grander: becoming Royal Storyteller to the king.

During her final story peddling tour, a tale of treason spills from her hands, threatening the king himself. Tanwen goes from peddler to prey as the king’s guard hunts her down . . . and they’re not known for their mercy. As Tanwen flees for her life, she unearths long-buried secrets and discovers she’s not the only outlaw in the empire. There’s a rebel group of weavers . . . and they’re after her too.

* * *

You can find Lindsay A. Franklin here, among other places:
Website // Facebook // Instagram


And find her book here:
Amazon // Goodreads


I received a complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own and I was not required to be positive.

* * *

This was a beautiful tale--as cozy as Tannie's sleepy farming village, yet brimming with breathtaking wonder. Although I love fantasy with all my heart, I'm sometimes skeptical at the beginning of a new book in the genre . . . unsure about whether I'll click with the writing style and characters and plot. But I had nothing to worry about with this one! About two-thirds of the way through, I commented to my brother, "It's such a wonderful thing to enjoy a novel as much as you expect you will."

What I Loved

Tanwen

Tannie was such a refreshing protagonist! Plucky, wise, headstrong, creative, ambitious, funny, seldom quiet, and full of vim and vigor--so it didn't take me long at all to connect with her. Being a story peddler, she weaves light into crystallized symbols of the stories she tells, which is a deliciously fun element that ends up deepening every aspect of the book: character, plot, world, and theme! (Oh hi, that was just my writer nerd self showing up.)


A country orphan from Pembrone, Tannie dreams of leaving her tattered, humdrum life behind for a chance to see the world and become the king's Royal Storyteller. She has big hopes, a shrouded past, and the will to weave a future of her own making.


And did I mention that she's a storyteller? A creative, an artist? Did I mention that I love that?

The Cast

Tanwen was great, but so was the entire cast of characters! Seriously, every single one of them, even those who showed up for just a few pages, were well-drawn and compelling. I don't want to spoil anything, so I'll keep the following thoughts on some of the major players brief.

• Brac // He's such a sweet farm boy. I quite like him, even if I didn't always agree with him.
• Mor // Okay, so I fell head over heels for him. He reminds me of a younger, slightly less rascally version of Once Upon a Time's Captain Hook!
• A certain ragtag band of characters whom I will not name // The danger of a large group of characters is that only one or two manage to have any personality, but each individual was distinct, so kudos to Lindsay for that. Each had their own strengths, weaknesses, hopes, and sorrows. My heart hurts for them.
• Braithe // As a princess in a corrupt court, she was a beacon of strength, poise, and mercy. I looked up to her, which takes something special.
• The One in the Dark // I will say nothing!
• Sir Dray // *barfs*
• King Gareth // He managed to be more complex than the stereotypical "taxes, taxes, taxes!" kind of malevolent ruler, and I was very much not a fan of him. (Which is good.)

The World

Like I said before, the world of The Story Peddler is cozy and exciting at the same time! Tir is full of farms, villages, the seaside, a river, a forest, a bustling capital city, a palace . . . at first glance, it's your standard medieval fare. But a certain level of lively detail made the setting come to life. I wasn't sure at first about things like fluffhoppers (basically rabbits) and watta roots (essentially potatoes), but pretty soon I realized that the charm of such worldbuilding is that fantastical elements are instantly recognizable and require little to no explanation. So it was very easy to slip into this world and get comfortable.


But don't fall asleep on me! There was much political intrigue afoot to keep the plot moving and keep Tanwen on her toes. Opposing religions and cultures made for an intriguing backdrop to the story's events too.

Story Weaving

Again, I really don't want to spoil anything about anything, because it's best discovered for yourself, but suffice it to say I loved the concept of weaving stories. It was like seeing my own creative passion (writing) play out in a gorgeously visual way. And about halfway through, it all suddenly became ten times more awesome!

The Theme

The way this story embraced creativity and fanned the flames of imagination . . . wow, you guys. It reaffirmed and refreshed my storytelling heart--and I think it would do the same for anyone's creative passions, no matter what they are. This is a book that honors art in such a unique, eye-opening way, I can't say any more without blurting it all out! Just go read it!

What I Wasn't Sure I Loved at First . . .

The Beginning

It took me about 70 pages or so to get past my own built-in critic and really settle in, I'm sorry to admit. (It's a weird thing, the way I sometimes take a while to warm up to a story even if it's hitting all the right beats. So it's probably one of those "it's not you, it's me" issues!) I suppose the plot was a smidgen slower at the beginning, but in retrospect, I loved getting to experience Tanwen's life in Pembrone and get a handle on the world at large before things exploded into action. Because trust me, once I crested 100, maybe 150 pages, I refused to put the book down.

Some Vocabulary

Maybe I'm just used to melodramatic speeches and prose-y dialogue, but some of the phrases felt a bit modern. A very minor quibble, and one I very quickly forgot about. Besides, Tannie herself is a bit of a country bumpkin who has to concentrate to keep a polished vocabulary when selling stories. It actually works for her narrative voice to be casual. And speaking of vocabulary, I loved that there were some words she didn't recognize, and yet she never came across as stupid.

Flying Fluffhoppers, Why are You Still Here?

Go snatch up a copy for yourself so that we can flail about this book together! The Story Peddler is one riveting, enchanting book that I am sincerely proud to have on my shelf. Now I can't wait for next summer when the sequel releases!

Autobiography of a Fantasy Character - A Refuge Disturbed

Three things before we begin! Number one, I apologize for disappearing last Saturday without warning. I hadn't meant to take an unplanned week off blogging, but school caught up with me and had other plans. Number two, I might be slow to reply to your comments this week as well because of final exams. And number three, please thank Blue @ To Be a Shennachie for reminding me that it's been much too long since we heard from our beloved Fantasy Character, aka Hero, aka Chosen One! I hope you enjoy the next leg of his journey.

* * *

Fantasy is my favorite thing to read and write, but every genre comes with its own suitcase of tropes. In this blog series, we poke some fun at our beloved stories and at ourselves as fantasy lovers.


If you haven't yet read the first two instalments, check them out:


Origin Story (in which Hero grows up in Quaint Village, Mentor is mysterious, Incentive dies, Villain's backstory is disclosed, and Hero discovers his singular purpose: to save the world.)


The Journey Begins (in which Hero and Mentor set off to save the world, horses are invincible, Hero is wounded, Mentor is characteristically mysterious, and they take refuge with the elves.)

I scrambled up in bed, speechless at the sight before me. This elven girl was golden sunshine, icy rivers, and heaven itself personified.



"Who are you?" she demanded.


I scanned the room, casting my gaze from the mossy floor to the wooden walls to the fern-frond curtains as if I could find the answer there. At last I said, rather dumbly, "Hero."


"Well, it's about time you got here." She shoved a bundle of clothing at my chest. "Get dressed. The Feast is about to begin." With that, she flounced out of the room.


It occurred to me that I never got her name. Moving carefully, my shoulder still tender, I donned the outfit she'd left me: a green jerkin, brown breeches, soft leather boots, and a shimmering cloak the color of cobwebs. Every piece of clothing felt light as air, yet when the corner of my cloak caught on the bedframe, it didn't snag or rip. Perhaps it was stronger than it looked.


My bedroom's doorway opened onto the landing of a staircase, which spiraled down the inner core of a gigantic oak tree. Other landings carved into the wood led to doors and knothole windows. What marvelous people, to create such a home in the heart of nature. Eyes wide, I hurried down the stairs to the bottom and ventured out into the late afternoon sunlight.


"Ah, Hero!" A tall, willowy elf with hair down to his waist and a longbow strapped to his back beckoned me over. "Come and join the Great Feast. I have a seat for you. Mentor is already there." He guided me across a grassy lawn to a pavilion formed from slender saplings intertwined to create a leafy canopy. Beneath the flowers strung in their bows was a long table groaning under the weight of platters of food. Elves were seated all around, each looking solemn and noble, all with flawless skin, smooth hair in varying shades of gold and chestnut, and forest-colored clothes. Several elves with flutes and stringed instruments struck up a silvery aria in one corner of the pavilion.


The elf-man sat at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit on his left. Mentor was already there on my own left. And across from me sat the beautiful girl.


"Hello, Father," she murmured.


Good heavens, she was some kind of elf princess! And this elf-man was a king. I blushed.


"My people!" the Elf King shouted. "The prophesied Hero is in our midst at last! He is the one who will restore the keys to their rightful place and save the world!"


Cheers erupted--but not the raucous whooping and hollering I might hear at home in Quaint Village. No, these cheers were like music, like a chuckling brook, and I suddenly felt very clumsy and oaf-ish in the presence of such genteel folk.


The Elf King produced two pendants from within his cloak, each of them a brilliant blue gem on a golden chain. "To signify our support, I present Hero and Mentor with elven ward-gems." He hung them over our necks. "These ward-gems will guard you against poison and disease." He smiled and gestured to his daughter. "El'liaennwil will now sing the Ballad of the Hero."


El'liaennwil rose from her place without looking at me and began to sing with the voice of a lark. She sang and sang many sweeping, somber lines that told of a darkness under the earth and an orphaned boy destined to conquer it. I suppose she meant me, but I wished with all of my heart that she would look my way at least once. She did not, though the ballad lasted an hour. When at last she sat down again and we began to eat, the food had gone cold. Which was just as well, since everything was either bread or fruit, with nary a nip of protein to be seen. Yet even this light fare filled my belly with warmth.


Throughout the proceedings, Mentor said very little, but seemed to be thinking quite pensively.


By the time we had finished the Great Feast, twilight was dressing the forest clearing in dusky shadows. El'liaennwil finally looked at me. "Come, Hero," she whispered. "There is something I must show you."


She whisked away into the darkness, and I hurried after her. Down a winding path through the trees she led me, her golden hair muted in emerging starlight. I thought in that moment I might follow her anywhere. We stopped at the bank of a narrow brook. El'liaennwil took my hand, causing my heartrate to trip. "Look."


I followed her gaze to the ferns growing by the water. But rather than gleaming green and lush, they were blackened and curled with rot. "What's wrong with them?"


"The keys," she said. "Ever since they were ripped from their resting place, the forest has been dying. I fear even the great oak in which we live could topple before long."


Looking into her shining, solemn eyes, I vowed then and there to ensure that never happened.


The next day, Mentor was the one to rouse me from my slumber. "How is your shoulder?" he asked.


"It feels great," I replied. And it did. Something about the fresh air and elven food--and perhaps the effects of my elven ward-gem--had completely healed my wound.


"Then we will train. The Elf King can teach you things that I cannot."


So Mentor and I joined the Elf King in another round clearing not far from the oak, where we spent hours upon hours discussing philosophy, nature, the wind, heroism, the significance of insects, and how to get in touch with the power running through my veins. The Elf King taught me how to find it and harness it, and soon I could release blasts of power so large, they shook the highest trees.


"But beware you do not let it get out of control," the Elf King said soberly. "For it is your uncontrolled powers that catch the attention of Villain's dark warriors, and they will be able to track the echoes of that power straight to you. They seek to destroy you before you can return the keys to where they belong."


I nodded. "Yes, sir."


I still had much to learn, so after another long night of feasting and ballads, we trained the next day, and the next. The Elf King had other business to attend to, so El'liaennwil took over my training alongside Mentor. Together they taught me much. With every swipe of my sword and blinding blast of light, I felt more and more ready to take on a whole army of dark soldiers. Especially with El'liaennwil sending me tiny nods of approval when she thought I wasn't looking.


"Careful, Hero," Mentor cautioned. "That last strike was nearly too much."


"Don't worry, Mentor," I replied. El'liaennwil and I were facing off with swords in the middle of our circular training ground in the woods. "I have everything under control." I twirled my blade and reached for the power thrumming through my bloodstream--reached deeper than ever before and felt it swarming under my skin, building like a tidal wave. Light surged from my sword, my eyes, my hands, and I brought my weapon crashing against El'liaennwil's sword with a resounding CRACK!


A cylinder of white light shot up all around me, sending a beacon soaring into the sky.


El'liaennwil stumbled back, her blade cloven in two. "Hero, stop!"


But try as I might, I couldn't close the floodgates and turn off the pure energy beaming through me like a miniature sun.


"Hero!" Mentor yelled.


The grass at our feet shrivelled to brown, then just as quickly sprung up again with spring green. The trees lost their leaves in a dry rattle, then put forth fresh buds. Black slime oozed out of the ground. Sparks of light bounced from my sword and set fire to the sludge. I shook with the force of power, every bone vibrating. "Help!" I shouted. "I can't stop it!"


That's when the dark soldiers streamed in on every side. Dozens of them. El'liaennwil drew knives from the folds of her tunic and slashed her way into the fray. Mentor swung his staff. "GHAOWOUSHAL!" he shouted, just like last time. And just like last time, light shot from his staff and sent enemies bowling over.


But I continued to quake in the middle of my own firestorm of light.


Mentor dashed to my side and grabbed my shoulders. "FALKSOWFALLEN!" With that magic word, my power stopped.


I crumpled to the ground, deflated. The world swam before my eyes, fading in and out. In the haze, I thought I saw Mentor as I had in my vision--mysterious and powerful and full of secrets. He repeated the word, but instead of "falksowfallen," I heard, "May the prince of light be contained."


Then the vision left and my eyes cleared.


"Get up." Mentor hauled me to my feet. "They're recovering!"


The dark soldiers were rising to their feet again, weapons in hand and murder in their eyes.


El'liaennwil downed two of them with expert slashes before running to us. "To the Falls! Hurry!" She tore into the woods, and Mentor yanked me after her. We blazed through the trees, the sound of crashing pursuit growing closer behind us.


"We can't lead them to the oak!" I panted. "Your home--your people will die!"


"That's why we're going to the Falls," El'liaennwil snapped back. She leaped over a fallen log and led us ever deeper into the forest.


At last, when my lungs felt they were about to burst, we broke out onto a rocky cliff. A roaring waterfall gushed over the side, the bottom wreathed in white spray. "What?" I yelled. "Do you want us to jump?"


Behind us, the dark soldiers reached the treeline.


El'liaennwil peered over the edge of the cliff and loosed a piercing whistle. Then she tipped over the side.


"El'liaennwil!" I screamed.


Just then, a flash of red with wings zoomed past, El'liaennwil on its back. A dragon! "Jump!" she called.


The dark soldiers charged closer. In a second, their swords and clubs would be upon us.


Mentor and I inhaled deeply, nodded at each other, and took a flying leap off the cliff into empty air.

To be continued . . .

Fantasy Tag Fest

Much as I enjoy being tagged, doing tags, and tagging other bloggers, I don't get around to it that often! Maybe it's because I sheepishly feel like I'm not offering real content when I do one?* So it's with an even more sheepish grin today that I dust off not one, but two fantasy-themed tags that have been sitting in my drafts for a while. The always lovely Deborah O'Carroll passed on the Life Lessons Learned from Fantasy tag a WHOLE YEAR AGO. (#oops) And the recently-featured-here-because-she-just-released-a-new-book Jenelle Schmidt tagged me just last month for the What If...? Fantasy Tag. Thanks, you two!


*How do you guys feel about that, anyway?


Both tags actually originated with Jenelle, who invented February is Fantasy Month! . . . Yes, we are ignoring the fact that it is now March. In true fantasy style, I am being a wizard who is never late but arrives precisely when she intends to. So there.


Let's jump right in, shall we?

Life Lessons Learned from Fantasy

Rules

1. Link back to Jenelle's blog. (Done.)
2. Use the image above. (Also done.)
3. Tell us 5-10 lessons you've learned from reading a fantasy book (or watching a fantasy movie)--lessons can come from multiple sources as well, of course. (Coming right up!)
4. Tag 2-4 other bloggers. (Shall do at the end of the post.)

Life Lesson #1: I can make a difference.

A hobbit from the Shire had no special strength, but Frodo carried the One Ring to Mordor. A little girl was the youngest in her family, but Lucy discovered Narnia and saw Aslan when no one else did. A mute young woman was enslaved by a culture of oppression, but Imraldera's influence stretched over many lands and many ages.

Over and over, fantasy shows me the weak, the small, the powerless, and the ordinary rise up to become heroes. Yes, their heroics are often on a kingdom-wide scale, larger than life for all to see. But they inspire me to make my own life count.

"Some believe it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps because I am afraid, and he gives me courage." -Gandalf

Life Lesson #2: Life is full of wonder.

The moment my imagination set foot on infant Narnian soil and heard Aslan singing the world to life, I was enraptured as I had never been before. And every well-drawn fantasy world since then has kept alive my spark of childlike wonder. Mountains, oceans, valleys, forests. Portals, ley lines, magic hiding around every corner. Vast landscapes flung farther than I can see, all ripe for exploration. I sometimes wonder if these flashes of longing and delight are little tastes of the wonders we'll see in heaven.

Life Lesson #3: The darkness does not last.

Fantasy offers a vivid canvas on which to paint the brightest of colors and the blackest of shadows. The suffering our beloved heroes endure is staggering. Sapphira Adi, confined to the lonely underground for centuries (Eye of the Oracle, Bryan Davis) . . . Nym, her powers stripped right from her bones (Siren's Fury, Mary Weber) . . . the entire Rampion crew, separated and struggling to make headway against the Lunar Queen (Winter, Marrisa Meyer) . . . Frodo and Sam, beaten down to their last breaths on the slopes of Mount Doom (The Return of the King, JRR Tolkien) . . . Cal Raven, his people homeless and his own faith shaken from its holdings (The Ale Boy's Feast, Jeffrey Overstreet) . . . I could go on and on.

But in all my favorite fantasy stories, no matter how deep the darkness becomes and no matter how long it lasts, light breaks through. Sapphira Adi finds hope in Elohim. Nym discovers a power that no one can take from her. The Rampion crew finds love and victory. Frodo and Sam find the strength to carry on and put an end to a great evil. Cal Raven makes a home and reclaims his faith.

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. (Psalm 30:5)

Life Lesson #4: God is recklessly in love with me.

Allegorical fantasy is still one of my favorites, and there are so many books under that category that have refreshed my view of God. In Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Heartless, I see Aethelbald redeem me. In Ted Dekker's Circle series, I drown in Elohim's waters and emerge reborn. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I witness Aslan's sacrifice firsthand. In Wayne Thomas Batson's The Door Within, King Eliam's glory blinds me.

All of these stories and more open my eyes to more facets of God's character. And always I am drawn in by His wild, untamed, unreserved love. He's not a tame lion, you know.

Life Lesson #5: In the end, we win.

Fantasy is the genre in which a happily ever after is the norm. There may be bloodshed, scars, and sorrows, but in the end, good prevails. The enemy armies may be innumerable, but in the end, they fall. Fantasy rekindles my hope. We are on the winning side. The enemy is already defeated. And one day, we're going home.

***

The What If . . . ? Fantasy Tag

Rules

1. Thank the blogger who tagged you. (Thanks again!)
2. Include the graphic somewhere in your post. (See above.)
3. Answer the questions. (In a sec!)
4. Tag a few bloggers--and let them know they've been tagged. (Coming at the end.)
5. Have fun! (That would be impossible to avoid.)

1. Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. The cast of the most recent fantasy book you've read comes to your assistance . . . Who are they? Will they be helpful?

Whew, I'm in luck! The book I'm currently reading, Bryan Davis's Circles of Seven, is urban fantasy with a twist, so at least most of the characters are familiar with modern inventions. Billy and Walter should have no trouble fixing my car, especially with Karen around, since she's a car expert. Not to mention Ashley's super smart. Bonnie can fly ahead to see where we are (and where the nearest mechanic is), while Shiloh keeps me company and Professor Hamilton regales me with Arthurian legend.


But if Clefspeare or Hartanna are around, I say we ditch the car and go for a dragon flight!

2. You go to bed one evening and wake up in the lair of the villain of the last fairytale you read. Where are you and how do you plan to get out?

I'm not sure what fairytale I've read most recently, but the latest fairytale retelling is probably The Tomb of the Sea Witch by Kyle Robert Schultz.


In which case I'm underwater and will probably drown in the next thirty seconds.


My plan is to accept my fate. I'll spend the rest of my days as a ghost wandering the halls of the Warrengate Academy of Advanced Magic. Perhaps I can haunt Malcolm the dragon every now and then . . . it'd be fun to scare him without fear of getting fried.

3. You are transported into a fantasy realm and given a mythical creature as a companion and best friend . . . Which mythical creature do you get?

The answer is quite obvious. NEXT QUESTION.


Oh, wait. You really don't know? A dragon, of course! Because although the blog's sidebar does say I might have one living in my basement, that dragon might be a figment of my imagination. Who knows? Either way, I need a real dragon bestie in my life.

4. In a strange series of coincidences, you end up needing to take the place of your favorite fantasy hero or heroine. Who are you?

"A strange series of coincidences"--does that kind of sound like a spinoff to A Series of Unfortunate Events?


But oh boy, this is a tough one. I'm going to fall back on a long-time favorite: Sir Eanrin from Tales of Goldstone Wood! While the term "hero" may be debatable at some points in his life, the sometimes-man, sometimes-cat is really a noble character deep down beneath his preening, poetry, and pride. (My my, the alliteration is flowing already.)




All credit goes to artist Jenelle Hovde!
(This fanart is on display at Dame Imraldera's Library.)

5. To go along with question #4, now that you are that character, is there anything you would do differently than that character, now that you are running the show?

Um, YES. TELL IMRALDERA I* LOVE AND ADORE HER. And that is all I will say on the subject.

*he? you? Am I talking about Eanrin, to Eanrin, or about myself as Eanrin?

6. If you were yourself in a fantasy novel, what role do you think you would play in the story?

I'd be the sidekick on the quest, the one who packs too many books, gives the heroes regular pep talks to keep their spirits up, and surprises everyone with a fiery verbal barrage against injustice.


But if I lived long enough, I would likely take up a profession as the village crazy person. You know, the mysterious kind who lives in a house crammed full of scrolls, knick knacks, dust, and half an apothecary--the eccentric old woman whose nonsense occasionally hides a scrap of wisdom.

7. One morning, as you are going about your daily business, you pick up an everyday item and a voice booms in your head with prophetic words about your future. What object is it, and what is the prophecy?

It is my phone, a companion that's a little too constant. And the prophecy that echoes in my head is:

Three for Goodreads stats falling behind

Seven for games with endless levels

Nine for Instagram photos divine

One for emails like Hydra devils

In the land of pixels where distractions lie.

One phone to rule them all, one phone to find them,

One phone to bring them all and in the appstore bind them.

In the land of pixels where distractions lie.

(I butchered the meter, but that's what you get for writing parody poetry after staying up too late watching a movie.) (Anyway, all that to say I'm trying to work on my phone habits!)

8. You are transported into a magical realm and turned into a mythical beast . . . What beast/fantasy creature do you want to be?

A DRAGON. Oh, right, I already used that one for #3.

How about a shape shifter? Then I can take the form of anything I want, dragon included! I mean, talk about convenient. I could swim with the mermaids, fly with the phoenixes / griffins / Pegasi* / dragons / etc., and infiltrate any castle in the kingdom. But if shape shifter wasn't an option, I would settle for being a talking fox, like the one in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe movie.

*what's the plural for Pegasus, anyway?

9. If you could read your way into any fantasy realm, but the catch is you can never leave, would you? Which realm would you choose?

Oh dear, don't do this to me. This sort of question makes me start needling around for loopholes and exceptions. Like, if I could take my family with me, I would pick . . . or, if I could still communicate with people on earth, I'd choose . . .


If such gracious allowances were truly forbidden, then no. I wouldn't read my way into a fantasy realm, because as massively tempting as it would be, I couldn't leave my fam jam behind! Buuuut if we can stretch the rules a little, I would pick Narnia hands down. It has the perfect blend of wonder, beauty, and just the right amount of danger to make for great adventures. (I would get stabbed very quickly in a place like Middle Earth, okay.)

Hmm . . . the longer I think about it, though, the more I like the thought of living in one of the realms of my own making. Iror would be lovely, or Demetria . . .


Okay, okay, I'll stop! My answer is Narnia, but only if I can take people with me.

10. As you are going about your normal day, you discover that you have a magical power. What is it?

A super brain that learns ridiculously fast and retains it all would make college a breeze! But that sounds a little bit more like superhero/sci-fi stuff than fantasy, so . . . I think it would be cool to see an "aura" around people. Kind of a way to read their emotions, which is less intrusive than reading minds but would probably be quite helpful. Is there a name for that sort of thing? If no one's written a book about it yet, maybe I'll have to.

***

Whew, that got longer than I expected! I should've known that fantasy + books = much to talk about. And now it's time to tag some people to pass on the fun. I'm going to do something different and tag some of my newest followers. Feel free to take it or leave it, guys! (Either one or both of them.) If you do take them, leave me a link so I can check it out!

I tag:

Erica @ A Story of a Storyteller

Danielle @ Snapper

Loie Dunn

Thomas Neufeld @ Journey with Emmanuel

Julian Daventry @ Saver of Memories

Brianna Stacyn @ No End of Books

Anyone else who started following Adventure Awaits within the last three months!
(I wanted to tag more of you, but couldn't find links to your blogs on your profiles.)

Well, that about wraps it up! What are some things you've learned from fantasy? Whose lair would you be escaping? Would you read yourself irreversibly into a fantasy realm???