It’s been a week of furniture building and the house being upside down, including, shock horror, my writing room being out of action, and bookshelves out of reach. Among plenty of sorting and cleaning, I made progress on a latest painting project, more on that another time. And for solace, I thought of some of my favourite characters from fantasy fiction.
Any here that you recognise?
Rooted in the imagination, the inventive genre of fantasy knows no bounds. And soon, soon I’ll be back on Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles. And I’m looking forward to it, seeing how the world further expands bringing new landscapes, new people, new vivid sensory images to delight, appal, and offer up a spot of virtual travelling. We all have some favourite story places. I would gladly visit the lands of Patricia McKillip’s The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, and share a meal with Sybel in her cottage on Eld Mountain, watched by her weird and wonderful menagerie called by wizardry. Or a visit to the remote deserts of apocalyptic Sudan, in Nnedi Okorafor’s Who Fears Death, and meet with Onye, a powerful, gifted, flawed, steadfast young woman. I can still hear the sound of her singing voice communing with the desert.
George R.R. Martin said, ‘We read fantasy to find the colours again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs sirens sang.’
Yes to all of the above, and to learn, reflect, challenge, escape, have fun, and flex that all important muscle – the imagination. Fantasy shines a new light, and creates a different edge. It redefines boundaries and allows for reclamation of landscapes. It offers up worlds filled with adventure, to inspire, offer hope, and teach us that anything really is possible. It shines a light on our identities, letting us know we are valid and valued, despite our strengths and flaws. It emboldens us to demonstrate we can tackle our demons, fight for our cause, and realise a state of peace and empowerment. And so much more.
So there is no shortage of inspiration, in a genre that can extend to the reach of your imagination. I look back fondly on scenes from the first two books in Blood Gift Chronicles: some of the stark environments thrust on Suni in Return of the Mantra, where she discovers what she is made of, contrasted with a mountaintop view where her view of the world will be forever changed. And in The Warder, as the dominoes fall, squeezing characters and revealing timeless bonds, the world extends into new lands where old and new, the mundane and the fantastical, coexist. If I close my eyes I’m transported to the islands and the musty air in the cavernous temple, with the sound of footsteps crossing the mosaic-tiled floor; in contrast to the warm desert winds of Shendi, carrying spells and curses that touch all those with the gift to hear…
Finally, I’m happy to report I’m back in my writing room, ready to explore new worlds.
Have a great weekend!
