Tag: fantasy books

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?

Happy New Year 2026!

As 2025 draws to a close, cold winter months provide the perfect setting for those moments of reflection. It’s crisp and cold out there, but look closer and you will find nature’s treasures, offering a sturdy base for sure footing.

And so I’m listening to the Japanese paper bush with its bare branches and snow white winter blooms; and the climbing jasmine, flowering its yellow stars; to the growing hebes, sporting purples and silvers all year round; and the star magnolia tipped with soft furry buds; to the sleeping hydrangeas and cherry blossom, restful and brown; and the honeysuckle giant, splaying and pluming with bulging red berries, welcoming birds far and wide; to the hellebores, tipped with white bells that might just faintly chime; and the visiting birds, filling their bellies and gathering for nests; while the hedgehog sleeps sound.

And by the water, time to reflect, at riversides and seasides where flocking geese arrive for warmer climes.

As a writer, I journey alongside a number of creative pathways, including the unfolding world of Blood Gift Chronicles. It has been a year of creative output, of journeying, of sharing, and there are some wonderful highlights. I’m hugely grateful for all those I’ve met along the way; fellow writers, readers, and those who create space and platforms to share and be inspired.

From Belfast to Brighton, conventions continue to be busy, bustling, happily tiring, inspiring places to network, discuss, meet and share. Every time someone new is inspired to pick up my books is a gift, and in the pages I hope they discover the gift there for the taking. We write to reflect, to find words for the pathways, to shine a light on the injustices, to problem solve the solutions, to have fun, to create worlds, to entertain, to inspire, to support, to empower, to bring colour, so much colour.

And as writers, in turn we are inspired by the stories of others. Visiting Belfast and the wider surrounds of Northern Ireland is storybook country in itself, with Game of Thrones now embedded into the fabric, a hugely inspiring ground from which to navigate the SFF worlds on offer at this year’s convention. Not forgetting the real life history of a complex place, as well as the story of the Titanic, a bold statement on Belfast’s waterfront.

Brighton too was a special trip, not least for the storms battering the sea front, which added atmosphere to a swelling community of SFF lovers, including wise words from Joanne Harris: ‘Fantasy is the secret language of the sub-conscious.’

Locally, South Hams Lit Festival was wonderful to be a part of, as well as Return of the Mantra featured on Plymouth’s Ferndale Radio show as book club read of the month. Huge thanks to Mimi, the radio host, for welcoming me into the studio to discuss the breadth of inspiration behind the novel, and for sharing readers’ reviews as well as her own thoughts. Of course I have what inspired the writing, the places, the worlds, the characters, but it’s always fascinating to hear what the stories mean to readers, what visions it conjures up in their minds. For Mimi the visions were reminiscent of places she has known from her mixed cultural heritage, which she shared in generous depth. I aim to be a visual writer, and hearing her enthusiasm for all the story had conjured for her, felt to be an honour and a privilege. Now I’m looking forward to returning to the studio in the New Year, when The Warder will feature as book club of the month.

Throughout the year I have shared many titles I have enjoyed reading. Meanwhile my to-read pile grows. Here are just a few titles waiting patiently on the shelf.

And Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles draws near, with an extra special surprise in store too, so stay tuned.

This is my journey as one year closes and another year opens, and I’m filled with gentle optimism, inspiration, and colour.

Wishing you a gift-filled, peaceful and joyous New Year.

Happy New Year 2026!

World Fantasy Convention 2025

It’s the morning after a wonderfully busy weekend in Brighton, at World Fantasy Convention 2025. Big skies topped a windy and rainy sea shore coloured with a wintry Brighton Palace Pier, alongside the remains of a burnt-out west pier: history slicing the present. Tucked away from 70mph winds that battered the Sussex coast, in a seafront hotel overlooking a dramatic sea, story worlds unfolded with colour and magic, exploring the weird, the horror, and venturing into the furthest reaches.

It was an honour to be on the programme, to share readings, and to join in with panel discussions talking representation, personal influences, as well as how we approach writing outside of our personal experience. With my series incorporating several characters with disabilities, it was great to share in the reminder of the need for positive representation and how we go about that.

The fantasy ecology panel was also a highlight for me. Wildlife and the environment are backdrop themes through my series, Blood Gift Chronicles, the flora and fauna layered into the worldbuilding, and into main themes around exploitation of the natural world and its people. Backdrop wildlife is largely familiar, created with a recognisable science logic, until it ventures into magic and the fantastical, further illuming the colour. It’s interesting to consider the larger than life aspects that highlight the themes, revealing the shadows, providing platforms to inspect and reflect, creating possibility, venturing to the furthest reaches of imagination. There are inventive creatures inspired by the story, and there are those venturing into familiar territory, perhaps. Various kinds of dragons come with a unique flavour, some rooted in the magic system, some created through the lens of science, all following the lore of Blood Gift Chronicles.

And following inspiring, thought-provoking panels, a chance to read from The Warder, Blood Gift Chronicles Book 2, to share in my love for these characters, and the gifts and curses that connect them to each other, and to the multi-faceted world. As work progresses on the third instalment, it was great to spend time with my publishers as we look ahead for what’s next in the series. With plans for next year in progress, there’s lots to look forward to.

And so I start a new week inspired, as I sit at my desk and get back to work. For now I will leave you with a quote from author, Joanne Harris, best known for her novel, Chocolat, who opened the convention: ‘Fantasy is the secret language of the sub-conscious.’

Wishing everyone a wonderful week ahead.

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?

All the Shades

Pause to share, reflect and look ahead, and I hope this finds you well.

Summer is upon us, a season of sunshine, wind, rain and heatwaves that dry the grass to crisp colours of straw. But with a little nurturing, colours can be discovered and encouraged to bloom. And they have been blooming, a personal dedication to my much missed writing pal and feline friend, Mia.

More colour is found while out and about exploring, including, but not limited to, sights of bullfinch and goldfinch, hollyhocks the colour of rainbows, straw hats and sunglasses, weathered boats painted all the shades, heart-shaped lime tree leaves, barn swallows ducking and diving, and a lone puffin bobbing on gentle waves, watched and watching.

Surrounded by so much colour has been the perfect place to work on my next instalment of Blood Gift Chronicles, where the darkest places spawn the brightest shades. It is currently sitting with the publisher for the all-important edits, and here is the face of a slightly sleep-deprived writer after just hitting ‘send’.

If colour brings a feast for the senses, shades and tones of grey bring depth and life to the inner and outer landscapes of our characters. Exploring these darker shades themed heavily in my discussion panels at this year’s Eastercon in Belfast, conversation that continues to inspire.

For those already familiar with my fantasy series Blood Gift Chronicles, in amongst the colour of wildlife and the natural world, animism, magic, and dragons, you will know the reflections of the world as we know it, stories of marginalisation and social justice, themes ultimately bound with empowerment and hope. Darkness resides in decimation of the natural world, corruption and wealth inequalities, gender-based violence, and child exploitation. Hope comes in challenging the power structures to work towards environmental and social justice, and more.

In a previous blog post, Channelling Rage in SFF, I explore the landscape of anger as a character motivator. It is a well-used tool in creating powerful villains and antagonists, like Serse Lanister in Game of Thrones, a powerful woman in many ways, and powerless in others, since she is a woman in a misogynistic world, a survivor, willing to do anything to protect herself and her children. Her motivations might be understandable, even relatable, and so she garners empathy. Considering the potential to empathise with a villain, perhaps poses the question of whether it can ever be right to go bad, and where the line is drawn between villain and antagonist.

It brings to mind a well-loved read of mine: Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor. There has been widespread speculation over the identity of the main character, Onye, and where she sits on the good/bad scale. While some consider that she moves to darker realms, my thoughts are that she moves from being a flawed hero to an anti-hero. SPOILER ALERT and to recap: the novel is set in post-apocalyptic Sudan following a brutal civil war. Onye is a child born of violence following the rape of her mother. She’s got powerful magic, which she gets from her father, is haunted by her father and ends up going in search of him. It leads to a violent confrontation with devasting consequences that results in Onye’s boyfriend, Mwita, being killed. Grief stricken, Onye then acts in a godlike way, maneouvring things inside her own body to conceive Mwita’s child in a kind of miraculous conception. Her actions lead to powerful consequences that result in all fertile men in the area being instantly killed, and all fertile women in the area being instantly impregnated. Onye didn’t set out to do these things, and couldn’t have foreseen these consequences, but she knowingly overreached with her powers, knowingly crossed a point of no return, and therefore turned anti-hero (to my mind). I find her character to be extraordinary, deeply endearing for the most part, with a story arc that reveals strong contrasts as well as the subtle colour and textured tapestry of her desert home, all the shades, from the lightest, to the dark.

All the shades are what I venture to write in Blood Gift Chronicles, light and dark woven through each instalment of the series, culminating into the work in progress, and the colours of the origin… It’s a world I look forward to returning to, and to ultimately releasing this third instalment into the world.

For now back to the colours of the real world.

And wishing you a wonderful and colour-filled week.

News, Updates, and Eastercon 2025, Belfast Style

Summer is on its way and I can barely believe it’s the end of May, and so for an overdue catch up on a wonderful trip to Northern Ireland, where Eastercon 76 was being held, Belfast style.

 

It was a privilege to take part in a fantastic programme of panels, workshops and readings. The stars aligned to theme me on the dark side this year, those big emotions that can drive our characters, as well as create opportunity for reflecting in a different way, one that might just interrupt the fear and lend itself to peace. Determined rage can be a powerful motivator, especially when fuelled by a sense of injustice. And perhaps hope as determined rage in a state of resilience and unwavering belief, a deep persistent hope, can be as powerful and forceful in driving action and change. My characters are no stranger to the dark side. They’re also no stranger to fighting back, working together, supporting a world to move towards greater environmental and social justice, and so there are messages of hope and empowerment. And we need those, right?

I look forward to sharing more thoughts of these intriguing topics, but for now simple gratitude to all the inspiring and inventive writers out there, and readers who share a love of the genres.

Belfast ICC was an impressive host, and further afield beneath big skies it was great to explore memorials and street art and an impressive city hall. Not to mention the Titanic museum, and a t-shirt that read: ‘It was fine when it left Belfast, so it was.’

Nearby Game of Thrones studios was a real highlight, a feast of visuals, sets and insights bringing this epic saga to life.

And it was great to see more sights of this country, with beautiful coastline and stunning interior carpeted with yellow gorse, and meeting locals who were extraordinarily gracious, welcoming and friendly.

Giants Causeway was magic, a place of myth and legend.

Carrick a Rede rope bridge was appropriately scary, hanging 60ft over choppy seas, though tame in comparison to fishermen’s tales of traversing a single rope carrying their catch of the day!

And more exploring Game of Thrones territory with Dunlace Castle (in exceptional wind and rain!!), not to mention, Ballintoy Harbour.

Dark Hedges was truly evocative.

And Cushendun Caves, nestled on the wild tip of the quaint village of Cushendun, was closed for the season, or perhaps because the red woman was cooking up magic.

Finally home and a chance to rest and restore before change. Because change comes whether we want it or not.

And now for some truly sad news. I have had to say goodbye to my beloved Mia, cat companion and writing buddy for all her fifteen years. She has had her bed on my desk ever since she was a kitten, and been with me through the ups and days of writing, editing, rejection and publishing. Until illness came and transformed lovely Mia into magic, leaving my desk all too bare.

Though she was also a wonderful gardener, and outside the colours bloom.

If you ever wondered where inspiration for the mountain lions of Shendi came from in Return of the Mantra, look no further than this gorgeous girl, who used to sport a mane in her younger days.

Rest easy sweet girl…

And after she had slipped away, a flower sprung where she had a lain, forget-me-not, the petals say, in Mia’s grounds, the perfect place.

💙

 

 

 

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

Lights of Winter Solstice

Winter solstice, and while around the world, festivals celebrate the wonder of light, the long night invites us to rest and restore. As each moment brings us closer to the sun again, the promise of spring lies in wait, and we quietly await our own transformations as, through rest, our fires re-ignite.

The process of writing is a reminder of the power of rebirth, creating, recreating, and spawning miracles when it seems as though the light is dim. Fantasy fiction breathes tales of light and dark, percolating energies to exude them anew.

‘Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk’s flight on the empty sky.’

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Creation of Ea.

In my current work in progress, Book 3 of Blood Gift Chronicles, elemental magic explores processes of transformation, magic that is littered with different forms of light: from the fires of a dragon’s breath, to mysterious lights ocean deep, to Suni’s crystal that sees her through. And, behind the light lie themes of dormancy and hibernation, in the creatures, the weather, and the personal journeys of courage and hope.

‘To light a candle, is to cast a shadow.’ Ursula K. Le Guin.

Stories light the spark of inspiration, in writing as in life. My current read offers the perfect tonic for a cold, dark winter’s night. And for anyone yet to be introduced to Sarah Ash, I would highly recommend her worlds of epic fantasy. Sarah’s books fuse a perfect blend of everything we love of traditional fantasy tales spanning the continent and beyond, with prose that binds us to the page, leading us into colourful worlds and characters that frighten, amaze, appal, and inspire. I love the plethora of shades that Sarah brings to her work, and the characters that steal our hearts. Kiukiu is currently stealing mine, her and the Snow Lord snow owl she saves, that just might return the favour…

And while writing and reading continue, every once in a while it’s time to step outside for a big breath of fresh air. Winter lights are always a delight…

… as is seeing the sights of nature. A visit to Seaton’s sprawling wetlands was a tonic, a place of natural lines of reed beds and waterways, preserved and conserved by local wildlife agencies. From redshanks to curlews to shelducks, increasing numbers of birds are flying in from distant shores to overwinter, feeding on ample crustaceans that provide fertile feeding ground on the stretching sandbanks, watched over by the resident peregrine roosting up high, and a passing flock of clacking and chatting Canada Geese, slowing fading as they fly on by, restoring the ambience of rushing reeds swaying in the breeze. A tonic.

And as the sun fades over glassy water, more light shifts and forms, glows and fades into slumber, before rising to start a new day.

And on this new day, I return to the edits, a perfect process of transformation, renewing, layering, finding the spark to brings words to life. I know what’s coming, it’s an edit after all, but anticipation still brews for the big awakening.

Wishing everyone a light filled winter, and blessings for a very Happy Festive Season, and above all, peace.

‘May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.’ JRR Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.

xxx

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?