Tag: fantasy

For the Love of Books #36

With 2026 underway, January is the perfect time to look ahead and make plans. I’m excited for the coming year, for new work that is due to come to fruition, and for opportunities to create, share, and discuss. With events on the horizon, the calendar is looking healthy.

My to-read list is looking healthy too, and I look forward to sharing titles, some of which I’ve been itching to get to for some time now, while others landed more by accident. Oftentimes we stick with authors we know, but it’s always exciting to branch out and discover someone new.  And if you’re looking for inspiration, here are two fantasy reads from authors I would highly recommend.

The Green Man’s Heir

By Juliet McKenna

Daniel Mackmain is a man with a secret. He keeps to himself, a lone traveller moving from place to place, picking up work as he goes. But when a girl is murdered, the Derbyshire police take a closer look at this wandering man, and Dan realises that the murder involves the hidden world he was born into. And so begins a contemporary fantasy rooted in ancient myths and British folklore.

The main character’s perspective appealed to me from the start. I appreciated his deep connection with trees and woodland, places he seeks for respite and times of peace while whiling away the hours, carving; an artistic pastime tightly ingrained with identity and heritage. And I appreciated his contemporary voice and straight-forward approach to life, blending easily with the feel of ancient wildwood in his bones, since he is the son of a dryad.  Following Dan’s encounter with the police, where he was fortunately able to give an alibi, a dryad appears to him. It is only the second time he has seen a dryad, the first was upon seeing his dryad mother. These unexpected sightings provide charming reference to folklore, trees and nature, and intrigue that kept me wanting to know more.

I adored the main character’s backdrop, with a childhood whereby he could see what other children could not – scavenging boggarts, and rainbow-winged sprites. The blend of fantasy/folklore/murder mystery definitely worked for me, supported by a main character with a well-defined voice and strong persona able to lead the way as we delve deeper. It brings a whole new meaning to the idea that you can’t run from yourself, or change yourself; you are you, no matter how far you go or how hard you try to hide.

I loved the growing significance of the dryad, Tila, who presents in this world out of a desire to be on her own. Dan wants to talk to her, to get to know her, to discover more about his heritage. It’s also possible she saw the murder, and Dan is keen to gather any information she might have. But dryad’s are a race who live in the present, looking as far as the next season, and care nothing for the past. The intrigue of this ethereal character, combined with our growing understanding of the complex backdrop of the murdered girl, made for an intriguing plot, amid magic, adventure, and the well-carved voice of a main character whose feet remained rooted in the mundane, while his sights were ever drawn to mysterious other realms.

A magical read.

Sorrowland

By Rivers Solomon

Vern had always been ravenous, a hunger that forced her to flee the compound of Cainites in want of something, though she knew she’d never find it. Broken free with an uncanny strength, she retreats to the woods for sanctuary from the deeply religious grip of the compound, Blessed Acres where she was raised, and where her husband, Sherman, is sermon: a marriage designed to contain her. Her child is born free, against a backdrop of howling wolves. Her son is a hungry creature much like herself, who she names, Howling. Soon after, following a suspicious encounter with chasing wolves, his twin, Feral, is born. Vern decided, if the boys asked about their father, she would tell them their father was Lucy, her childhood friend who left the compound before her, a friend she never forgot, who could have been her mate.

The characters are intricately woven, offering haunting depth that left me intrigued to know more of their inner landscapes. I adored Vern’s wild nature, opting for freedom no matter what, birthing alone in the woods, fearless in her endeavours to raise her sons. Her viewpoint also offers fascinating insight into intersex identities and gender politics, as well as broader power dynamics, inclusive of racism and marginalisation featuring as compelling themes.  And from a retrospective lookback at childhood observations, insidious corruption is revealed, from the compound she fled for the wild outside, and inside. Vern’s body is changing, gradual, mesmerising, metamorphosis, that also indicates that she is ready to confront the past and fight for survival, for herself and her family’s.

Compelling narrative delivers a haunting story, journeying through a complex world of motherhood, love, betrayal and lies, and an inner power that refuses to lie dormant. Fearing she is ill, Vern is forced to leave the harsh woodland sanctuary, in a desperate hope she might a friend she never forgot. But the hauntings are real, and the truth is closer than she first imagined. A wonderfully powerful read.

What are you reading?

Susie’s SFF Book Advent 2025

Wishing everyone all the very best for a festive season filled with joy and wonder, and books. And for those looking for some inspiration, here’s a few of my favourite reads for the SFF Book Advent 2025, in no particular order…

Day 24 of Book Advent – Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor. Zelu’s mother was a Yoruba princess, her father is Igbo with a PhD. She is paraplegic, flawed, sassy, hard-working, and an author, writing robots into a complex world of death, circuits, energy and what it means to be human.

Day 23 of Book Advent – Hex by Thomas Olde Heuvelt. A 17th century woman accused of witchcraft in the days of puritanical colonies, changed, eyes and mouth sewn shut, haunts the town of Black Spring. The townsfolk’s responses are fascinating and chilling. Brilliant and horrifying read.

Day 22 of Book Advent – Nine Bar Blues by Sheree Renee Thomas. Golden mermaids, curse-bound sisterhoods, poisoned landscapes and an otherworldly earth. Evocative, inventive and contemporary tales that haunt, uplift and ascend, while moving with the rhythm of cultural change.

Day 21 of Book Advent – Binding the Cuckoo by Gabriela Houston. In high society London, Hare must keep her mythic status secret, in this historical romantasy where fae and human collide and Eastern European folklore is brought to life. A vivid and magical tale beautifully told.

Day 20 of Book Advent – Lord of Snow and Shadows by Sarah Ash. In the wintry kingdom of Azhkendir, Gavril must face his true identity, and uncover the truth of the shadow. With a vivid & fearless supporting cast, this fantasy is a masterclass. A wonderful winter read.

Day 19 of Book Advent – Learning Monkey and Crocodile by Nick Wood. Collection of shorts with immersive African landscapes, vivid imagery, and a rich tapestry of imagination, folklore, dread and desire. A clear and inventive lens, astute, innovative and unique.

Day 18 of Book Advent – Book of Fire by Michelle Kenney. Talia and her friends navigate the ultimate rescue mission in a cataclysmic world. Feral people, hidden forests and a holy war. Lifedome is a landmark, monsters can be heroes, and fantasy, science and mythology form a perfect blend.

Day 17 of Book Advent – The Four Profound Weaves by R.B. Lemberg. Weaves woven from wind to signify change, invisible threads woven into whispered weaves, a search for the weave of death, and a Nameless Man searching for his name amid his journey of transformation.

Day 16 of Book Advent – The Iron Brooch by Yvonne Hendrie. 1940s London, Brigid receives a mysterious heirloom as her something old on her wedding day. Strange callings bring visions of Scotland’s Doon Hill, time slips, the veil grows thin to mysterious fae, & Scotland awaits.

Day 15 of Book Advent – Children of Blood & Bone by Tomi Adeyemi. The soil of Orisha once hummed with magic, but the maji were killed. Now danger lurks, snow leoponaires prowl and vengeful spirits wait in the waters, as Zelie & her companions head a quest to see magic restored.

Day 14 of Book Advent – Threading the Labyrinth by Tiffani Angus. American Arts dealer, Toni, uncovers her inheritance in a haunted Manor House, where mysterious gardens change in twilight, revealing ghosts from the past. A rich, immersive & haunting read.

Day 13 of Book Advent – The Green Man’s Heir by Juliet McKenna. Contemporary fantasy rooted in ancient myth & British folklore. The son of a dryad seeks to understand his heritage while his sights are drawn to mysterious other realms. Meanwhile, there is a murder case to solve.

Day 12 of Book Advent – A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan. Lady Isabella Trent defies Victorian conventions with her love of books, natural history & dragons. From childhood obsession collecting sparklings, to a dragon-finding expedition to the mountains of Vystrana.

Day 11 of Book Advent – Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. 1950s Mexico: a remote mansion, an eccentric macabre family set a menacing scene of wealth, fading empire, & family secrets of violence and madness. Noemi fights to stand her ground, but the family’s indomitable will is strong.

Day 10 of Book Advent – At Night White Bracken by Gareth Wood. Realities collide, dread & merriment entwine, in a world of malevolent, sinister magic. Cosmic horror blending magic with pallid reality. A horrifying, brilliantly inventive, thought-provoking tale beautifully told.

Day 9 of Book Advent – An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon. An extraordinary MC, flawed, self-effacing, courageous, fierce and with a huge heart. On board a space ship organised like the Antebellum south, Aster works to sow the seeds of civil war. Deeply memorable.

Day 8 of Book Advent – Songspinners by Sarah Ash. Architects of an ancient Undercity lost to myth; a world of mystical reservoirs, musical telepathy, faeries & dragonfly, where music is forbidden, yet flows like water from Orial. Intricately woven, evocative and beautiful.

Day 7 of Book Advent – Octavia E. Butler, The Last Interview. I savoured every word. ‘Feminism is freedom. It’s the freedom to be who you are and not who someone else wants you to be. And science fiction? Science fiction is wide open. You can go anywhere your imagination can go.’

Day 6 of Book Advent – The Second Bell by Gabriela Houston, one of my all-time fave reads. Salka was born a striga, a girl with two hearts. In a world that believes her to be a monster, she is considered a demon, abandoned into exile. But Salka is drawn to her true nature.

Day 5 of Book Advent – Danged Black Thing by Eugen Bacon, a unique & inventive collection of shorts traversing the west & Africa, bringing tales of migration, gender & class, patriarchy & womanhood, pushing boundaries of creativity & science, revenge, aliens, ancestors & beasts.

Day 4 of Book Advent – A Master of Djinn by P.Djeli Clark, with a secret brotherhood, a Soudanese mystic, an assassin with powerful magic, sorcery conjured in hookah smoke, gold masks, ghouls & elemental djinn, this is a mystical tale of identity, exploitation, oppression & magic.

Day 3 of Book Advent – Fire Logic by Laurie Marks, epic war fantasy with guerrilla warfare among the farmsteads and iron workers, with a wonderfully diverse cast reflecting the equality they are fighting for, and elemental magic and touches of fantasy bringing colour to life.

Day 2 of Book Advent – The Subjugate by Amanda Bridgeman; in a watchful world humanity is complemented by AI, cities are ruled by security companies, murder is commonplace & violent criminals face extreme ‘treatments’. An intriguing future dystopia tackling big questions.

Day 1 of Book Advent – Dark Matter by Michelle Paver, deliciously creepy & atmospheric, with Jack Miller on an arctic mission where a malevolent spirit walks the icy wilderness. Lethal accidents, marauding bears, science, madness & terror. Lingering dread and fabulously haunting.

Happy Reading

&

Wishing you a wonderful and magical, book-filled Xmas.

💫

 

 

 

 

 

 

Review of Binding the Cuckoo by Gabriela Houston, written by Susie Williamson

This month I am delighted to bring to you a feature post, celebrating the recent release of Binding the Cuckoo by renowned fantasy author, Gabriela Houston.

I first came across Gabriela’s work when I read The Second Bell, a fantasy book that quickly became one of my all time favourite reads. I adored the characterisation, and the intimate portrayal of communities steeped in Slavic inspired folklore. More on my review of The Second Bell can be found here.

Now I am delighted to be joining in celebrating the author’s latest release:

ABOUT THE BOOK:

In the late 19th century, a scientific marvel allows scientists to open rifts into the realms of myth. Powerful creatures, weakened and stripped of their memories, are brought to serve the whims of the wealthy elite…

In 1899 New York, Hare, a young woman with a mythical secret, finds herself trapped into servitude to the wealthy elite. When an equally desperate schoolmistress, Miss Anne Bonningham offers Hare a chance at freedom, they embark on a daring plan. Disguised as ‘Miss Edwina Walker,’ Hare navigates the treacherous waters of London high society, solely focused on securing a marriage and escaping her past.

However, amidst the glittering balls and intricate social games, Hare finds herself drawn to Ernest, a charming solicitor torn between duty to his friend and his undeniable attraction to her. As hidden agendas surface and a vengeful figure from her past threatens to expose her true identity, Hare must make a choice: embrace a life of comfort and security or choose freedom and a love that could shatter the very foundation of her world.

Binding the Cuckoo is a story of love, deception, and the fight for self-determination in a world where appearances can be deceiving, and the line between freedom and captivity is blurred.

MY REVIEW:

Binding the Cuckoo is a historical romantasy, evocative and enchanting, led by the mysterious Hare, a young woman and mythic, who is set to explore the treacherous world of London’s High Society, while attempting to outrun her past.

Hare’s journey begins in New York, where she is trapped in servitude. She carries a mythical secret, being one of the powerful creatures brought to serve the whims of the wealthy elite.  The opening scene unfolds with ease, offering an instant connection to an endearing protagonist who I was rooting for from the start. Hare possesses powerful gifts, yet is powerless by circumstance, holding no sway over the direction of her own future, prey to being summonsed at the whim of wealthy humans who look down on her kind.

Hare’s character demonstrates the experiences of othering, of being othered, held in servitude, having no autonomy or self-determination, and being of no value to those who would claim her for their own purpose and comfort. She can find herself ripped from her own reality at any moment, showing the face of humans to be monstrous and the need for Hare to be on guard and vigilant. As a servant of a wealthy household, we see her standing on the periphery, central to proceedings yet rendered invisible. Her vulnerability is stark, and her empathy for others, endearing. Freedom would be a dream, and yet when it unexpectedly comes to Hare, it is terrifying, since she is now trapped in the world of humans with no way back to the world she knows.

Anne Bonningham is the woman who freed Hare, and now their fates are tied. They travel to London, to the home of Baroness Winchfield, Miss Bonningham’s former student. Hare is introduced as Edwina Walker, Anne’s niece, and thus starts her new life. In many ways Hare is free, but she doesn’t feel free; in high society London only money and position can give true freedom, and both Hare and Anne Bonningham consider ways to achieve this, by Hare securing a good marriage.

In high society London, Hare must keep her mythic status secret. Fearing that the Baroness might discover her true identity as a summonsed pet, Hare must say little, voice no opinion, not show her intelligence. Not only does this narrative reveal the vulnerability of Hare’s existence, but also of the Baroness’s. If the Baroness were to discover Hare’s intelligence, it would shake her very foundations, since she believes that summonsed pets are mindless creatures. Hare’s life as a mythic in hiding, exposes the powerful day-to-day discriminations, themes of identity and social prejudices, messaging that reflects real world issues.

Unaware of Hare’s true identity, the Baroness decides that Hare is fine enough to introduce to court. And so begins the twists and turns of courtship, duty, survival and love.

The backdrop world is alive, lavishly textured with sumptuous attention to detail, with rich furnishings and brightly lit parlours, edged by shades of opium and gin. Among the striped trousers and fine gowns, narrative is well paced, in a story that seamlessly weaves the mundane with the fantastical with hobgoblins as butlers being a natural occurrence. The peppering of magic is delightful and intriguing, and builds into depth of narrative around themes of discrimination and othering. To add to the illusion of her fashionable existence, Anne Bonningham travels with an Eastern European cat shaped spirit, a domovoy, a character that further highlights an unjust world since this spirit is cheaper and deemed less sophisticated than its Western counterpart. In light of being a companion of Anne’s, Hare is left considering her own identity and whether she is a traitor, yet Hare and the cat spirit make for an unlikely alliance. After reflecting on how powerful the spirit is, like herself, and how nothing is truly yours if someone else could just take it away, Hare finds a way to release the domovoy. Whether it will go might be a different matter.

The narrative flows with ease, drawing you into a deep dive of decadence and shade, and into the hearts and minds of those who dwell there. Hare is settling into the highlife, muting obvious magical traits in her appearance so as to blend in and not draw attention, while watching the serving folk and empathising with their invisibility. And all the while maintaining a degree of invisibility for herself. As encounters become more familiar, Hare finds herself between two men both wanting of her affections. I enjoyed her internal narrative, exploring her mental landscape, the empathy she holds for others, while working to secure her own safety in a world in which she holds no power. It is a familiar story of survival, the duality of oppressor and oppressed, and the measures people will take to survive, and seek a way to thrive. And it begs the question what would equality look like, and what would it take to achieve that.

Romance is building in awkward meetings, told through shifting perspectives between two unlikely and potential lovers. Flirtatious encounters and confusing jealousy make for a believable dynamic that keeps you guessing, not least because the stakes are high, made more so by a threat to expose Hare’s true identity. The representation of love, and the thought-provoking questions it raises is an interesting look at authenticity, and the value of love in the face of inauthenticity.

Hare plays the part well, though never feels as though she fits. It is an inner narrative that makes for strong themes of identity, and delivers a protagonist to champion. In turn, the supporting characters are well-rounded, compelling, and with diverse perspectives to illuminate this unfolding world, and the complex relationships within it. Set in a vivid world, the narrative flows throughs the highs and lows, tensions and drama among unexpected loyalties and betrayals. It is a magical tale of uncertainty, of walking on shifting ground, of daring to hope for safety, and maybe, just maybe, finding more.

 A vivid and magical tale beautifully told.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Gabriela was born and raised in Poland, brought up on a diet of mythologies and fairy tales, spending her summers exploring the woods, foraging, and animal tracking with her family. Gabriela’s two adult fantasy novels, The Second Bell & The Bone Roots were published by Angry Robot, and she has also pubished a MG duology with UCLAN. In 2024, along with 19 other authors, she crowdfunded the anthology of reimagined folktales, which she has edited and illustrated. Gabriela is the host of a YouTube channel, The Gabriela Houston Project: Storytelling in All Its Forms. She lives in London with her husband and two children.

For the Love of Books #35

It’s been a bookish kind of day in more ways than one, with a trip to Plymouth and Ferndale radio for a show celebrating books, books, and more books. Alongside two other authors, conversation illumed and inspired, and for my part, it was wonderful to bring a slice of fantasy, talking Blood Gift Chronicles, inspiration, and the craft of writing, as well as much-loved reads that inspire.

And on the theme of fantasy, and in particular the creatures that inhabit our fantasy worlds, I bring reviews of two wonderfully colourful reads.

In the Vanishers’ Palace

By Aliette de Bodard

‘In the Vanishers’ Palace’ is a dark retelling of Beauty and the Beast. It is set in a post-colonial dystopia where brutal rulers, the vanishers, wrought ruin and devastation on the land. The earth is poisoned with roaming nightmares and a deadly virus.

The story follows Yen, a woman betrayed and sold into the vanisher’s palace to pay her village’s debts, a spirited, magical and carvernous place where every door can lead to death. She is in servitude to the shape-shifting water dragon, Vu Con, a creature among the last of her kind. Vu Con is mystical, aloof and cold, but not what Yen imagined. Instead of torture and death at the hands of a dragon, Yen is expected to teach Vu Con’s two unruly children, Thong and Lien.

The story is beautifully written, with description of magic and place told with tantalising effect that draws you into what feels like a labyrinth world. Vu Con’s character is layered, unique and interesting, with an intriguing and magical appearance that left a vivid imprint in my mind. Her presence immediately challenges gender expectation. Femininity is described in both dragon and human form. As human she appears as a woman small in stature, but holding herself decisively, displaying authoritative power that is magical and dangerous. Her sexuality is explored in a merging of human and dragon form, in beautiful scenes of sapphic romance between Vu Con and Yen, exploring tenderness and the excitement of love. But again expectation is challenged, as Vu Con feels cheated that it was Yenn who came to the palace, good only for keeping Vu Con’s bed warm. Vu Con’s request had been for Yen’s mother, a wise older woman. These kind of contrasts keep the narrative sharp and the reader guessing in what is ultimately a dangerous attraction, with more twists and turns yet to come.

Binaries are challenged in a variety of ways. Motivations, intentions and actions that blend what might be deemed good and bad, are layered into complex and intriguing characters. There is diversity among the cast beyond the gender binary, with non-binary characters using they/them pronouns. And ultimately this is sapphic love between a dragon and a woman, impactful in its creation, beautiful in its descriptions that explore the intimate scenes. The author appears to deal effortlessly with what might seem impossible, shifting into dragon perspective with ease, bringing the landscape of the dragon’s mind into full view, in an entirely believable way.

An enjoyable, edgy, and beautiful tale very well told.

Fatholmfolk

By Eliza Chan

In the semi-submerged city of Tiankawi, fatholmfolk and humans live side by side. The city is revered as a perfect place, providing safe haven for those fleeing civil unrest, but beneath the veneer, revolution is brewing.

This is an ambitious and inventive story, told through characters who embody a number of fantastical creatures, including kelpies and selkies, water dragons and kappas. Narrative explores the experiences of a multi-cultural diaspora community, considering xenophobia and the way in which immigrants are defined by othering, exposing hard truths and layered complexities of individual experiences. Together with the fact that humans have polluted the oceans, forcing fatholmfolk to flee to the cities above water, a refugee crisis looms, and tension between species becomes increasingly strained.

The story is told from the perspective of main characters attempting to navigate a world that is set up against them. Mira is half-siren, the first fatholmfolk to reach the military, appointed captain of the border guard. Her partner, Kai, is a sea dragon. Cordelia is a half-octopus/half-human sea witch, who Mira has an account with. Mira has a personal interest in the welfare of fatholmfolk refugees, wanting to keep them safe in Tiankaiwan waters. Cordelia can arrange this, in return for Mira’s help with making logistical paperwork disappear, to help Cordelia’s small business to thrive. And Nami is Mira’s daughter, with a latent sea dragon side. The story begins with Nami heading out to retrieve an unhatched dragon egg that has been claimed by humans. She is an interesting character, revealing shades of grey and complexity, turning political activist, willing to cross lines in the law, while learning to own her prejudices and mistakes. Courageous to some, reckless to others, still her actions reveal startling truths about history, and the lies that followed to maintain the status quo, one that would treat fatholmfolk as livestock, while serving human kind.

I enjoyed the vibrancy and colour in this story. Worldbuilding felt to have been lovingly crafted with intriguing and insightful attention to detail, perhaps meandering between real-life reflections and the fantastical, with sea grass meadows and red pillar corals, algae-covered tables adorned with wild rice and sea grapes, vinegared fish, lotus root, cuttle fish stew, candied seaweed, taro crisps and fried water spinach. It felt like a cultural exchange, a transportive experience where I can hear the clatter of tea rooms, and the chatter of vendors in narrow canoes. For me the layered and textured tapestry of vibrancy and colour in the story was a real highlight, offering an immersive experience among an inventive cast, charged with some of the biggest social issues of our times. A highly enjoyable read.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #35

Last week was a busy writing week, working on the third instalment of Blood Gift Chronicles, and tightening the ending. The weekend was a perfect end, sharing poetry at Exeter’s St Nicholas Priory, leaning into the magical. Absorbed in the atmospheric surrounds, I thought of the temple on the island of Evren in my novel, The Warder, where magic stirs in the cavernous walls.

Magic stirs on my bookshelves too, and so I bring you two fabulous reads, with a deeply magical and atmospheric feel.

Hadithi & The State of Black Speculative Fiction by Eugen Bacon and Milton Davis

Hadithi begins with a scholarly dialogue about the uniqueness of genre-bending speculative fiction, the diversity of voices contributing from the indigenous and the diaspora, and the powerful blend of own voice narrative.

“Until black speculative fiction is normalised, there’s much work to be done.”

Following this opening, a collection of short stories bring magical tales which speak of ancestry, soul, continuity and discontinuity, all woven through various sub-genres.

Eugen Bacon brings crisp, clear visions of life. Still She Visits is the story of Segomotsi, who is 7,000 miles away from her homeland, Botswana, while her sister, Mokgosi, visits often, arriving like an African daisy: radiant, luminescent and big in bloom. As Segomotsi feels her way through the entanglements of sisterly love, she is left facing the stark truths of grief. In The Water’s Memory, Adaeze and Aloyse share the joy of their marriage, the sadness of Adaeze’s passing, and a funeral of dancing feet celebrating death as they would life. It’s a reminder of the fragility of life, the strength we strive to find for one another, and the understanding of how love can reach into those silences. In Baba Klep, Clyde and Revita crash land into a post-apocalyptic African landscape, each wearing their cleft lip with differing portrayals: for Clyde it displays the inconvenient physical pain; for Revita, it is part of her strength and beauty. On a quest to create a new, sustainable solution for the landscape, Revita’s shrewd intelligence and knowledge brings the landscape to life with the sound of locusts and birds showing the way to water, and a crude irrigation system watering an array of crops: maize, peas, cassava, bananas, beans, sweet potatoes and millet. And the tale, Ancestry, is a short, sharp shock. Aptly exploring the marginalisation of women and girls in patriarchal societies, justice brought like a punch in the gut… from a vampire.

Milton Davis brings colourful, crisp imagery and a thought-provoking lens. In Carnival, Antwon steps out into an inventive futuristic world of holoscreens, dancing tattoos, and rideout aerial traffic transporting him to the ultimate destination of Carnival, for a ‘fleeking’ good time. In Down South, Roscoe, originally from Alabama and now chauffeur to Miss Liza, agrees to journey back down south to find Miss Liza’s lost child. He finds lodgings in a local juke joint, an atmospheric place, the air heavy with a wetland organic aroma, and the sound of raucous laughter against a strumming guitar. But the danger of the times is never far away, making for an edge-of-your-seat read that makes the ending all the more satisfying. And in The Swarm, Famara, a warrior for the elders, journeys into the barren lands of the Sahel, where he sets up his makeshift lab. He soon discovers that the ground isn’t merely sand. The locust apocalypse is underway, but nothing is as it seems.

A truly exciting collection delivered through a refreshing lens. Highly recommended.

The Deep by Rivers Solomon

The Deep is the story of water dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women, who were tragically thrown overboard into the ocean. The offspring of these descendants are called Wajinru, and were born breathing water as they did in the womb. Whales were their second mothers, who fed them, bonded with them, and took them to the deepest parts of the ocean where they could be safe. They made their home on the seabed, where the trauma faced by their ancestors is forgotten by everyone except for the historian, keeper of memories.

The main character, Yetu, is the current historian, one of extraordinary sensitivity, forced to dull her own senses to save being overwhelmed by the traumas of history. Only at the Remembrance can she find peace. It is a ceremony where she shares the memories, satisfying the Wajinru’s hunger for knowledge, a sharing that allows her to be free of the past for a time. But when the ceremony is over, memories will be returned to her, since the role of the historian is to carry the memories so others don’t have to. For Yetu it is a great burden, cursed with remembering the painful and wonderful, traumatic and the terrible, a burden so heavy she would hand herself recklessly to the sharks. She hopes that her ancestors will not continue to expect her to endure the burden, but they are needy, and so she leaves, to save herself from dying, since for Yetu, continuing to remember would be suicide.

‘The place of belonging is where loneliness ends.’

While Yetu’s story holds tragedy, it is also heart-warming. Her sensitivities are endearing, contrasted with the courage to venture into the unknown. I found the whole premise of the story to be compelling, and enjoyed the immersion into this watery world, told with a kind of poetic justice, as well as the rationale of biology and ecology explained enough to bring to life the intriguing fantastical. With themes of belonging, identity, and being true to oneself, this is a thought-provoking reflection echoing the brutal tragedy of the Atlantic Slave Trade, as well as being a colourful tale, filled with magic, captured in a watery world.

What are you reading?

Channelling Rage in SFF

Sunshine in March, while in the novel, character arcs are grappling with some big emotions. It’s a topic I look forward to speaking on at this year’s Eastercon coming soon to Belfast, in particular, the ways in which we can deal with anger and rage in our plot lines. We’re familiar with anger leading to the dark side – Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith, Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight, and Magneto in the 2000 movie X-Men – anger and rage rooted in fear that leads them down a path of no return. But is this end inevitable, and how else might we explore this powerful emotion?

My fantasy series, Blood Gift Chronicles, begins in a patriarchal world with wealth inequalities, environmental destruction, and gender based violence. The stories work to fight back against those power structures to work towards environmental and social justice. There are a number of protagonists and antagonists, with varied responses to their context, and various ways in which power and strength are defined. Among the protagonists, I subvert gender expectation, breaking the notion of traditional gender roles, and incorporate themes of identity, mental health, and being true to oneself. I have a female character who has been subjected to cruelty, and responds by becoming an assassin. I have another female character who has also been subjected to cruelty, and instead looks to community and connection, working together for peace and justice. I have a male character who expresses his rage inwardly, a path of self-destruction whereby he becomes his own antagonist for a while. And I have characters who express rage outwardly, in so far as a physical transformation with far-reaching consequences. The difference is around context, and explores the power of support and breaking social isolation, as well as the need for community, connectivity and shared values. If anger is rooted in fear, it’s interesting to consider what might be able to disrupt the fear to produce a different response. It’s also interesting to see what happens when this doesn’t work, if only as a warning of what can happen if we can’t fix things.

I recently read The Deep by Rivers Solomon, a stirring novella inspired by the real-life African slave trade. In the story there are water dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women, who were tragically thrown overboard into the ocean. The offspring of these descendants are called Wajinru, and were born breathing water as they did in the womb. Whales were their second mothers, who fed them, bonded with them, and took them to the deepest parts of the ocean where they could be safe. They made their home on the seabed, where the trauma faced by their ancestors is forgotten by everyone except for Yetu, the historian and keeper of memories. She’s forced to dull her own senses to save being overwhelmed by the traumas of history, and it’s only at the Remembrance where she can find peace. Because it’s at this ceremony where the whole gathering holds the memories, affording her some respite. But when the ceremony is over, memories are returned to her, since those memories are so intense and tragic, only the historian is able to shoulder the burden. But the burden is wearing her down, and so at the next Remembrance, Yetu runs away, abandoning her kin to save herself.

This character has got real ragged emotions, filled with rage, pain, guilt and frustration. The memories were killing her, yet there is also no peace for her having left her family and community behind. Themes of identity and belonging are explored, as well as personal and communal responsibility in tackling the big stuff.

Which leads me back to the world in my own work-in-progress, and a centuries long rage with far reaching consequences and seismic hope.

Meanwhile, on a different note, in the real world, a visit to the Valley of Rocks for some heady North Devon coastal heights.

The mountain goats were hiding though their reputation proceeds them, rebel goats known for head-butting sheep right off the slopes, and dividing the town with their rebel antics… I did meet a Pyrenees mountain dog, a gentle giant whose presence was reassuring at a place of dizzying heights. The door was intriguing and should come with the warning sticker, ‘Do Not Enter,’ because to do so involves falling off a cliff. It is a place of imagination and stories, abound with pixie folklore, a place of scattered rocks randomly strewn as though tossed by giant hands. And it was a wonderful breath of fresh air…

xxx

For the Love of Books #34

In the midst of winter I’m immersed in fantasy, both in writing the next instalment of my fantasy series, and in my current read, an epic saga in a magical world. More on those another time. It’s a genre rooted in folklore, and so I thought I’d share a few recent non-fiction reads, which touch on the subject of folklore from different angles depending on the cultural lens.

Black Dog Folklore 

by Mark Norman

Black dog folklore is a fascinating read, bringing to life a subject that in many ways feels familiar: from the well-known idea of hell hounds, to the well-loved story of Hounds of the Baskervilles, to The Magic Tinderbox. But while reminiscing on favourite childhood tales of unforgettable dogs with eyes as big as saucers, the extensive and varied eye witness accounts at the core of this book take us on a fascinating journey. Just as dogs have become central to family life, so ghost dogs are woven into our folklore. This well-drawn collection offers an extensive and comprehensive study of these elusive canines, as guardians, protectors and deliverers of omens, stories that illuminate, explain and deliver the eerie, while highlighting the plethora of threads woven into the fabric of our own cultural backdrop. Expertly told, while delivered with a seamless conversational style, make this a page turning read, and one I am sure I will revisit.

The Book of Yokai; Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore

by Michael Dylan Foster, Shinonome Kijn (Illustrator)

The Book of Yokai is an extraordinary book summed up by an extraordinary word, Monsterful, to denote the rare and truly marvellous manifestations of otherness that the undefinable category of Yokai brings. Through informative encyclopaedic narratives, punctuated by gorgeous illustrations, we are taken on a journey of the weird and wonderful, the dreamlike and the haunting, through experiences that don’t easily fit into our everyday understanding, yet are somehow relatable by the bizarreness. I enjoyed the nod to well-known characterisation from the much loved Studio Ghibli, and the teasing delivery that so eloquently describes a spirit world just beyond the reach of language, where limitless yokai creatures occupy the space between. This is a deep dive into Japanese folklore, that is inventive, surprising, inspiring and suitably unsettling.

The Evolution of African Fantasy and Science Fiction

Edited by Francesca T Barbini

This small book is an important read, beginning with discussion into how far back SF dates, and how SF and colonialism emerged in parallel, exclusive of African Science Fiction. Technological developments, science, and anthropology, crucial to SF, were intertwined with colonial history and ideology, made possible through military dominance, and leading to the idea of colonised subjects with their cultural beliefs being seen as inferior.

The emergence of African Fantasy and Science Fiction is essential in changing this narrative, along with stories from Asia and indigenous voices from around the world. Technology has facilitated circulation and consumption of these stories, therefore showing its market value to established publishers, consequently creating space for more writers to offer their perceptions and strengthen positive perceptions. In turn this offers an essential sense of belonging to readers worldwide, offering cultural insight and contributing to multi-cultural awareness. There was a sobering reminder that Africans have been producing science fiction, fantasy, magical realism since the genre began, since storytelling for all of us is as old as time, leaving a huge body of work, past and present, to explore. It’s an exciting future with voices such as Nnedi Okorafor continuing to weave African folklore into Africanjujuism stories, and creating inventive Africanfuturism leading the way. An inspiring, empowering and thought-provoking read.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Dragons

Writing is well under way for Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles. While living alongside characters who inspire me daily, I am also immersed in wildlife and dragons as I forge journeys through land, sea and sky. It’s everything I love about fantasy fiction, grounded in relatable experiences, whilst offering inspiration, colour and magic; against a backdrop of danger. There is everything to lose and everything to gain, when we embrace the truth of our identity, and look to freedom. Flight offers the ultimate in freedom, in the skies, or swimming in oceans deep. And so I look to dragons, of different kinds.

I recently received a gift through the post, a gorgeous postcard featuring the Maeshowe dragon, an intriguing and playful image, ancient graffiti left behind in the Neolithic tomb of Orkney, etched by visiting Norsemen. I love the idea of mythical creatures just waiting to be re-awakened. And I love a new book just waiting to be opened, like my recent purchase, Fathomfolk by Eliza Chan, a title I’ve had my eye on for some time now – sirens, sea witches, kelpies, and a deep dive into Japanese folklore with kappas and eastern dragons, what’s not to love.

And so what is the draw to the ever popular dragon?

‘Beyond this place, there be dragons,’ the old map makers used to say…

Fantasy requires us to take a leap of faith and step into the unknown, to render our desire for control and open ourself up to a different possibility. The fact we enjoy the genre suggests we’re looking for that kind of adventure. What better way than with creatures that can take flight or disappear into the deepest oceans, that can shape-shift, have intelligence and speak many tongues, that teach us humility, less we choose the path of destruction, or create opportunity to unite behind a common enemy – if a dragon can wipe out an entire army, it will take more than an army to defeat one. Whatever purpose they serve, they tip us well beyond the threshold of the familiar, transcend to a point of no return.

‘I do not care what comes after; I have seen dragons dancing on the morning winds,’ Ursula Le Guin.

They are also weirdly relatable, since we grow up learning about the giants of history, aka dinosaurs. And of course we know lizards, and there are those that can fly. Flying lizards appear in my WIP novel, and this photograph has been my screensaver for some time, as pointed out by my paper-mache version, companion of the book table.

The feelings that dragons can invoke are also relatable to contemporary issues of climate change, habitat loss and depletion of the species. Ann McCaffery’s dragons are literally allies in the fight against climate change. More subtle, the mysticism in Ursula Le Guin’s dragons in Tales of Earthsea explore the possibility of extinction from the world we know, melancholy at the thought of dragons flying the other wind, leaving behind a world without dragons, a world without the majestic mystery of this awe-inspiring other-worldly magic.

In my series, Blood Gift Chronicles, the theme of power is explored through the hard magic of traditional fire breathers, and the soft magic of water dragons. One power will out, which one, you’ll have to find out, but the aim was never to rid the world of dragons, but rather lean into creation. Exploring these internal and external worlds, opening ourselves up to perspectives of air and sea, considering the power of the otherworldly, gives a vast overview of the world that only dragons can bring. It’s a fly high, and a deep dive, battling internal struggles, fighting powers in a bid for freedom, with the question, if you have fought a dragon, is there any turning back?

Landscape credit to the coastline of Hartlands, where lies a partly submerged, rocky dragon.

The Art of Visual Narrative

A break in the rain sees a burst of crisp autumn sun and the promise of colder times to come, perfect for getting lost in my WIP, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, adding layers to an expanding world, and (currently) spending time with a character who’s a true survivor and an inspiration – it feels like weaving magic.

But for now, following a breath of fresh air, time to ponder the subject of visual writing, as promised in my last blog. It’s a subject that came up in a panel topic I took part in in August, at Worldcon 2024 in Glasgow, and was of particular interest for me to consider alongside also being an artist: visual imagery and colour are important to me, as well as the process of telling stories through various mediums including narrative, art and poetry.

But to start, what do we mean by visual writing?

Put simply, visual writing brings narrative to life in a way that forges connections with the reader, evoking an emotional and visual response that triggers a mental image in the mind of the reader. There are various aspects to consider, including characterisation.

Believable characters are the heart of the story, through which readers connect with both the story and the author. We need characters that readers can connect to, characters that inspire, intrigue, excite or frighten, or that we can empathise with and relate to. We need them to leap off the page, and so as writers we need to know them, their history and backstory, their strengths and flaws, what motivates them, what challenges them, how they express themselves. Social context and power structures inform how characters move through the world and what freedoms they have. Someone in a high ranking position might have freedom to speak up, someone in a low ranking position might have to stay silent. In my novels I have a character who’s impulsive and overconfident to the point of being reckless; a character who is misunderstood, powerful, burdened, and courageous; a character filled with self-doubt who evolves into a steady leader; a character whose inner struggles go unnoticed and it almost costs him his life.

I reveal the internal worlds and emotional landscapes, highlighting what is at stake within the drama. The psychological dimension is a hook for the reader, while taking care to describe just enough to maintain pace. At the beginning of The Warder (Blood Gift Chronicles Book 2), an early scene involves a girl who sees a dragon in the mountains, and consequently sees and feels herself burning in its fire. And then she realises that there is no dragon. Another character sees her appearing crazed. I allow the reader space to reflect on the girl’s traumatic confusion, and what the consequences might be, rather than attempting to over-describe and explain, which would have unnecessarily slowed the pace.

And lastly, the environment. Within my fantasy series, I move through mystical deserts, rugged mountains, lush forests, and I’m careful to describe just enough to support the scene from the viewpoint of the character in the scene. I have a character who is intimately connected with animals, and so sees the world around him through his connection with wildlife. I have characters who see things in shadows, and so their perspective has another dimension to focus on, and a whole different mood. I have a character who’s very connected to her ancestors, and so looks for experiences they may have had. And a character in book 3 that I’m still working on, and we’re moving into the realms of shapeshifting, which completely alters the perspective. Each environment, scene, and character have their own mood, colour palette and tone, (maybe it’s the artist in me). It’s interesting to switch between contrasting scenes, switching colour and mood in a way that livens up the narrative, bringing it to life for the reader. Overall, as readers, what we find visually and emotionally evocative will differ, and what is mentally thought-provoking will be dependent on our interests.

And so, I will leave you with just a few recommendations that I found visually and emotionally evocative, memorable stories that left that all important lasting impact.

What are you reading?

Worldcon 2024

At last, time to sit back and reflect on a very special trip in August, all the way to Glasgow 2024, A Worldcon for Our Futures. This was the 82nd World Science Fiction Convention brought to Scotland, and what an inspiring few days it was.

Worlds within worlds took shape in imaginative architecture nestled alongside the river Clyde, a wonderful place to take a break and reflect, with time enough for a stroll downstream and castaway on the Tall Ship, Glenlee, delving into the truly extraordinary stories of life on board sea voyages not for the faint-hearted. Research comes in many forms for writers, and immersed in the ship’s atmosphere, I let my imagination wander to an incredible journey one character of mine is forced to make. But my work-in-progress novel is another story.

 

 

Back to the convention and it was great to catch up with familiar faces, meet new people, and take part in panel discussions examining the length and breadth of these fascinating genres.

It was a pleasure exploring the connection between being an artist and a storyteller, discussing the process of being a visual writer and storytelling artist, and how the visual, and narrative, blend into a similar space, all through interwoven creative mediums. Surrounded by so much colour, there was a lot to inspire.

More on visual writing another time, but one very special guest of honour, a current favourite author of mine, Nnedi Okorafor, is a writer whose work I find particularly visual – colourful, striking and memorable. It was a wonderful opportunity to see her interviewed in person, to put a face to words I have poured over. A pioneer in many ways, her personal story is inspiring, as is all she continues to achieve through her work, a woman who stayed true to herself and her convictions, who defied genre (or at least white-centric, first world genre norms), and in doing so, we are treated with Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism. I find her work to be unapologetic, strong, colourful and pushing boundaries in exploring a vibrant world.

Another panel I had the pleasure of joining explored diversity of a different kind, from queer triumphs to utopias and everything in-between. It’s a wonderfully explorative theme to consider, stories where marginalised people are being framed as the hero, getting to the heart of identity through looking closely at a character’s intersections, glancing back at history to support understanding, as well as imagining anew. Considering the interplay between stories and the real world, how one influences the other and vice versa, we need those new imaginings, and as a writer I work alongside my characters to see their hopes realised. Themes of identity, self-determination and empowerment feature in my work, since I find that conceptualising hope stems from steps taken towards our own authentic standing in the world. From awareness of our identity, we invest in contributing to others being able to flourish, including the natural world since our futures are entwined; we are a part of nature. It’s a familiar journey for me, one that my characters walk, as they explore collaboration, connectivity and shared values.

The dealers room was a joy. It was great to see piles of the British Science Fiction Association’s Magazine, Focus, where a recent article of mine is published, entitled Breaking Binaries of Good versus Bad in SFF.

 

And of course it was a wonderful chance to catch up with my publishers, the lovely folks of Stairwell Books, as well as pick up a few titles to come home with for my ever-expanding to-read pile.

And so to end with a question: what are you reading?