{Put This One on Your TBR List} Review of Miscellaneous Selections by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Review of Miscellaneous Selections by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon

by Karen S. Wiesner 

T. Kingfisher (the pen name of Ursula Vernon) is a versatile author, illustrator, and artist. She has a page on her Red Wombat website labeled Short Stories that includes links to her short stories and articles, some of which are included in a variety of different anthologies. From this page, you can read them free on her website and/or from online magazines. 

https://redwombatstudio.com/short-stories/

Nearly all of these freebies have won awards, too. The genres run the gamut. There's a little of everything, as you'll soon see in the reviews below. I went into this endeavor not entirely sure what I was getting into, but I was pleasantly surprised for the most part with the majority of these selections that are worth seeking out. As they'll cost you nothing, you have everything to gain, nothing to lose! 

Beware: May contain unintended spoilers! 

"Jackalope Wives" and "The Tomato Thief" by Ursula Vernon: Although these two, connected stories are contained in T. Kingfisher's collection Jackalope Wives and Other Stories, they were written under the author's real name. Go figure. The duo features Grandma Harken, a clever old woman who is far more than who…and what… she seems. She lives in a house with its back to the desert, and she understands this harsh environment much better than most. Her biting humor and compelling way of looking at the world around her make both stories irresistible.

In "Jackalope Wives", Grandma Harken's daughter Eve has a very foolish son who's, unfortunately, much beloved by the females. However, he's only attracted to a jackalope wife. This shy being has the capability of removing her skin to dance under moonbeams. The boy does something stupid to obtain one, and Grandma Harken has to set things right. This very unusual folktale has an interesting message: "You get over what you can't have faster than you get over what you could. And we shouldn't always get what we think we want." Strange things happen in the desert, indeed!

In "The Tomato Thief", Grandma Harken is determined to find out who's daring to steal her famous, homegrown tomatoes. The answer surprises her and forces her to act. If she doesn't, those living in the desert will be in grave danger. It's very hard not to fall in love with a story with lines like these two gems: "Sometimes the best cure for life was a ripe tomato" and "…there was no telling how low a body would sink once they'd started down the road of tomato theft."

I loved both of these stories. They were my favorites of all included on this webpage.  I'm left wanting more of Grandma Harken and her hilarious wisdom. 

"Metal Like Blood in the Dark" by T. Kingfisher: Artificial intelligence identifying as a brother and sister lose their creator and have to fend for themselves in a universe their Father has warned won't be kind to them. Soon, Brother and Sister are discovered by an alien creature that kidnaps and forces them to work for him.

What an unexpectedly moving tale. I've never read anything quite like this tale that postulates the idea that lying is something like an error code in formatting and computer processing. "Lying was to be deliberately in error, and to express that error in others. Error without correction. Error entered into by choice." Further: "What did a lie do, once you let it loose? Did it sit still…or did it go spinning off into a chain reaction…" In a computer, processes and subprocesses might learn to "lie", which would wreak falsehoods and cause them to report back that something was fixed when it was still broken and vice versa. More than this, once you lie, you realize others could lie as well. With this knowledge, could a person or even a computer go back to how they were before learning the truth? In this story, Sister learns that knowing others lie could very well be the only way to keep from falling into error. But, oh to be ignorant of such darkness! 

"The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society" by T. Kingfisher: Be prepared for raucous hilarity! Fairy man, bull selkie, and horse fae--three paranormal paramours get their comeuppance in a human woman with a taste for exotic lovers. While each has treated human females badly, they've never been on the other end of such ruthless seduction. They take to meeting regularly around a campfire to discuss the state of lingering wounds to their pride. This was quite a twist on Casanova stories. I'll be darned if I didn't burst out laughing nearly every sentence while reading this brief but very vivid sojourn into unexpected territory. Talk about perspective. 

"Sun, Moon, Dust" by Ursula Vernon: This story clearly came to T. Kingfisher as a precursor (or a lingering leftover) of the days when she was writing Swordheart (do a search for my recent review of it on this blog). A farmer boy gets a magic sword from his dying grandmother. She instructs him to call forth the magic--three warrior spirits that are bound inside the sword--who will teach him. But his grandmother is wrong about who will be teaching whom. Sometimes the learned ancient can discover something new from the young and simple. I enjoyed the twist in this story. 

"Elegant and Fine": This one wasn't ascribed to either T. Kingfisher or Ursula Vernon. It was probably the only one I didn't love. The author puts Susan from C. S. Lewis's Narnia Chronicles as the main character and has her pining for a Dwarf lover she never knew the name of when she has to return to the real world--and her life as a child. I don't like it when a writer takes someone else's work and does things with it that the original author probably would never have wanted. I wish this story had cast a wholly unique character from the author's own imagination into the thought-provoking scenario she presented here. Sigh. But enough said about that.

"Godmother": Another entry not ascribed to either author name. According to the author, it was the catalyst for T. Kingfisher's Nettle & Bone (which I've already reviewed on this blog). There's something poetic about this flash-fiction that evoked lovely images cast in shadows and equal amounts of confusion for me. 

"Bluebeard's Wife" also doesn't have an author listed but it was included in the T. Kingfisher Toad Words and Other Stories collection. Pirate Bluebeard's notorious, bloodthirsty reputation with women doesn't faze Althea. She believes the best of her new husband and no one can speak a bad word about him in her presence. I won't ruin it completely, beyond saying, sometimes rumors have a basis in truth. I enjoyed the story written very vividly in Althea's point of view--with her rose-colored glasses on…until they're rudely knocked clean off her face. 

"Origin Story" by T. Kingfisher: This story was also included in the Jackalope Wives and Other Stories collection. In this disturbing tale, a fairy works in a charnel house, taking apart dead beasts and creating something new. Not surprisingly, the humans find her creepy. You'll need a strong stomach and solid backbone to get through this one. I would be surprised if you don't get a chill, as I did, at the end of the story. 

"History, Discovery, and the Quiet Heroics of Gardening" by Ursula Vernon: Those who have read a lot of this author's stories know she's an avid gardener and her experiences have made into to many, many of her fiction projects. I'm a new convert to gardening, so I was fascinated. Whether or not you have any personal interest in gardening, this essay will teach you something new. I've never thought about how heirloom vegetables may have come back from the edge of extinction because of the aggressive actions of a few fearless and utterly tenacious gardeners. Kingfisher says that this has influenced her writing, as she's found herself writing about unlikely heroes intent on saving one small but important thing. 

~*~

There's really no way to go wrong here. If you haven't previously read any of T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon's work, most everything included on this page would be a great introduction that won't cost you a penny. If you're a fan, you might find something here you haven't read before. In any case, I think you'll want to read more. This prolific author and extremely talented illustrator are well worth your time and money--I fully expect, as I have, you'll be happily willing to pay to read much more of her fine work. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Reviews: Three Fantasy Horror Selections by T. Kingfisher by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Reviews: Three Fantasy Horror Selections by T. Kingfisher

by Karen S. Wiesner 

Beware potential spoilers! 

I read a tremendous amount of T. Kingfisher (who also writes and illustrates under her real name Ursula Vernon) books in 2025, and I've been reviewing them for my Friday column here on the blog for much of that time. Because there are so many, I've been trying to do combined evaluations of her works according to series, genre, and/or theme. This week, I'm grouping three of her stories under the category of adult fantasy horror. 

Before I start, I have to lament about the fact that library apps tend to be insufficient when it comes to following prolific authors. I have two different library apps (Libby and Hoopla) and cards from two different physical libraries, yet I find that, even with all of that, I can't get everything I'd like in order to read/listen to everything by Ursula Vernon and her alter ego T. Kingfisher. Libraries should really commit to an author--all or nothing. If I like something by an author, I want to read her entire body of work. I think most true readers feel the same. In the case of this particular author, I wasn't able to get everything via the library apps or at the actual locations themselves. I ended up purchasing new trade paperbacks of each because I couldn't get them from the library. Of Kingfisher's body of work, these are probably my least favorites. Sigh! 

After reading so many of her eclectic selections, I've deduced that this author is uniquely her own--whether she's writing adult or kids' fiction, whatever the genre she writes in. She has her own style that flouts all conventional definition, and these are no exception. I like that, but it can also be an issue when you're reading a lot of her titles at once. In some ways, it's like the fact that Julia Roberts is always Julia Roberts in all her films. As an actress, her own personality bleeds into her work so it leads to her being typecast. She's tried to get out of that by doing different genres, including several unflattering roles, but the end result, unfortunately, is that Julia Roberts is always Julia Roberts. If you like her and think she's a great actress, as I do, then that's fantastic for you and her. If you don't, then probably not so much. In the same way, T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon seems to me to be, basically, the main character in anything she writes. Most of the time, that works for her; rarely, it doesn't quite make it. 

Note that I'm reviewing these selections in the order I read them, not the order they were published in.  

The Hollow Places is an adult fantasy horror novel published in 2020. Kara is the main character. Newly divorced, she's invited by her uncle to live at his unusual museum featuring weird "natural wonders" while she gets her bearings. While she's there, wanting to keep busy and avoid the melancholy of her situation, she stumbles upon a mysterious portal. She and her old friend Simon from next door enter it and become trapped in a nightmare, alternate universe. 

By all definitions, this one sounds like everything I'd love in a book. Yet I didn't. The protagonist and her companion didn't seem as well fleshed out as the characters in the previous stories I'd read of this author's. Additionally, it reminded me a lot of Alice in Wonderland and Gaiman's Nevermore, both of which I want to love but ultimately just don't. Too many insane events take place in stories like these, and, in my opinion, simply don't form a cohesive whole that I can connect with. It all just strikes me as random, unappealing crazy- or silliness. For fans of Wonderland and Nevermore, I imagine this one could be an amazing, upside-down adventure. 

A House With Good Bones (clever title) is an adult horror novel with a touch of modern gothic thrown into it. It was published in 2023. The heroine Sam takes an extended vacation from work as an archaeoentomologist (she studies insects and arthropods recovered from archaeological sites) because her brother is worried about their mother. Sam quickly realizes he was right to be concerned. Her mother seems different. While investigating why, sometimes with the help of her mother's handyman, Sam stumbles onto a lot of family secrets and peculiarities within the house and outside, in the rose garden. As usual in these kinds of stories, sometimes it's better to leave the past buried. After all, curiosity always tries to kill the cat. 

I expended tremendous effort trying to get into this story. I read a plodding chapter, took a break for a few weeks, read another slow chapter, went on to something else for a very long while. At that point, I knew I was going to have to buckle down and work really hard to force myself to read it. I'd purchased the trade paperback, brand new, so I didn't want it to be for nothing. 

There were a lot of interesting parts to the story. Sam is a well-constructed character with Kingfisher's typical big personality chock full of unique humor. My problem with all of Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher's work is that her main characters are constantly uttering little "asides" in introspection that can take over so they're no longer amusing injections but annoying blockades to plot development. There are so many of them, it became like I was reading someone's stream of consciousness journals! Each one is a detour from the main story, and that can get boring and overwhelming when trying to get into a particular story. 

Combine that problem with the fact that this story was such a slow burner. Having read The Hollow Places first, I got an inkling of where the faults in this particular genre were for the author, but here I was really slapped in the face. My crux issue is that the author seems to have a problem developing horror. Every time things got scary, it was as if she herself jumped onto the page and jarred us out of the story with off-putting and off-piste commentary that detracted from the action. It really broke up the tension and left me deflated and disappointed. I read horror because I want to be scared out of my pants. I want to chew my nails. Why would an author pop that balloon of rising terror when it's the whole purpose? 

As contradictory as this is going to sound, I did end up liking A House With Good Bones. You know, despite itself. It was an unusual story with creepy roses and bugs and a compelling twist on the obvious villain. In general, I liked the main character, but the over-excess of personality did get overwhelming sometimes. I wish it hadn't been so hard to get into, such a challenge to make it all the way through. But I was glad to have read it despite its slow and uneven pacing and the author self-sabotaging when it came to developing the horror. If you can stick with it, as I forcefully did, I think you'll be glad you did. 

The Twisted Ones is an adult horror novel published in 2019. While between editing jobs, Melissa, aka Mouse, accompanied by her loyal, sweet but dopey coon dog Bongo, ends up clearing out her so-not-beloved grandmother's house crammed with everything imaginable hoarded over the course of a lifetime. Early on, she finds her step-grandfather's journal and begins to be pulled into the crazy world he lived in in his final years. Local folklore combined with the old man's rantings about incoherent dreams of the woods and its bizarre, creepy creatures mingled with her own intrigue with the journal could lead her down a path there can be no return from. The local neighbors are certainly colorful and full of not-quite helpful information and support.

As in the previous two stories, we have what I believe is T. Kingfisher's fictional counterpart playing the starring role with the specific details like job, friends, and names, etc. being slightly changed up. Again, we have a male "protector" who doesn't quite live up to the role of hero, doesn't become a love interest, doesn't actually feel all that necessary to the story one way or the other. Instead, a new friend takes on the role--foolishly and unbelievably--of accompanying the heroine when she has to go against all sense and reason to confront the evil stalking her. Once more, there are way too many asides distracting from the plot, and the author defuses all the tension every single time before it really comes to a head. 

It was so hard to get into the story in the first place, and sticking with it was a daily struggle. The Twisted Ones wanted to be scary but it wasn't. Instead, it was just weird--probably as weird as her inspiration for it (mentioned in the Author's Note), apparently an Arthur Machen found manuscript called "The White People" that was published in 1904. I haven't even heard of it. While I'm glad I finished it because the core story was worthy, I didn't love the execution of this tale any more than I did the previous two. 

I hate to say something like this, but these three books seemed disturbingly similar as I read them. It was almost as if they were one book and the author just swapped out miscellaneous technicalities to make them slightly different. A House With Good Bones and The Twisted Ones, in particular, felt way too much alike. At least initially, the "Scooby Doo" lovable dog made this one much easier to read because at least the main character wasn't just talking to herself. Now she was directing her nervous tension onto her pet, which made everything a lot more palatable. I also wasn't a huge fan of the "past story told in journal entries" plot advancement. I won't lie to you--those were extremely hard to get through. In my opinion, it was a lazy way to tell the backstory, almost like those cabbagehead-isms from Star Trek, where characters are wont to say, "As you know…" before launching into important information about the plot that the viewer needs to know. 

~*~

I was looking for pee-my-pants chills from these three books, but I got novelty weirdness instead. Alas, I expect a lot of readers who like freaky, strange tales rather than true horror might like these three vastly more than I did. In general, I'd say the core narrative of each was good and pushing through to get to it was, at minimum, rewarding. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog and her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: Soldier Son Trilogy by Robin Hobb by Karen S. Wiesner

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: Soldier Son Trilogy by Robin Hobb

by Karen S. Wiesner 

Be aware that there may be spoilers in this review. 

 

Robin Hobb (who also writes as Megan Lindholm) is the author of The Realm of the Elderlings, which I've been reviewing here on the Alien Romances Blog. Soldier Son Trilogy is a separate, unrelated, fantasy series set in a fictional place called the Kingdom of Gernia. Resembling the 19th century American frontier, this post-colonial secondary world has several interesting historical counterpoints. In this series, Gernia is a strange combination (to someone like me, who doesn't care for war dramas) of civilized and war-like. Having lost to a vastly superior naval force, Gernia's military moves inland, conquering the natives called Plainsmen (natives) and Specks (powerful magic users who have all but been driven out of the frontier and now only exist in the Barrier Mountains). Racial and culture tensions are in full force, as it's only been a generation or two since Gernia conquered the indigenous tribes. 

In this world, Gernia has a distinct patriarch hierarchy. Sons of nobles inherit according to their ages. The eldest assumes the father's title, a second son serves as an army officer, while the third becomes a priest, and the fourth an artist. Daughters all fill submissive roles with arranged marriages that increase social standing. The main character in these books is Nevare Burvelle, the second son of a newly promoted Lord. 

The first book, Shaman's Crossing, was published in 2005. It's focused on a soldier son, Nevare's, education. Every aspect of Nevare's life in the opening has been on his future career as a soldier. Still a teenager, Nevare's father passes him into the hands of his greatest enemy for training. His logic in doing so is to teach Nevare "things he cannot learn from a friendly tutor". During this torturous tutelage that nearly kills him, Nevare experiences a vision in which he meets Tree Woman, a Speck. His trainer urges him to kill her but instead Nevare makes a pact with her and becomes a weapon of the magic to help halt Gernia's destruction of the forest. While this encounter was deeply profound, Nevare manages to escape and resumes his life, heading to the military academy to begin formal preparation in becoming a soldier. Near the end of the book, Dark Evening, an annual carnival, brings the first Specks to Old Thares. Tree Woman influences Nevare, compelling him to use the magic she instilled in him during his first vision. This results in a widespread plague overtaking the town and those at the academy. Caught between two worlds, Nevare attempts to sever his ties to Tree Woman, realizing this one who's become his lover in the fever dreams, has enchanted him to do her bidding. 

Book 2, Forest Mage, was published in 2006. It pretty much picks up where the previous left off. The academy is recovering from the Speck plague that killed so many. The students who've survived, for the most part, have been forced to leave the academy. What's happening to Nevare is unthinkable though. The plague has done the reverse with him than with all the others. Instead of leaving him weak and thin, he's become fat and is rapidly becoming fatter. While he left Shaman's Crossing believing he'd conquered the magic and destroyed it, the opposite is the case. He's now filled with the magic and he doesn't realize the visions he's been having are actually happening to him as he gives himself over to the magic. No one in the world he's always known believes he's anything but a big, fat pig who's now unworthy to be a soldier son. His father, especially, is monstrously cruel, dismissive, and ashamed of him, eventually all but disowning him. 

It was hard not to laugh about how ridiculous this plotline was. It was like reading Dreamcatcher by Stephen King, in which flatulence became a plot device. At first, I was laughing in shock, but the farting became so absurd, it was impossible to take the book seriously. (Apparently King wrote it while under the influence of Oxytocin and now no longer cares for the book at all. I don't blame him.) While it's sad when overweight individuals are unfairly ridiculed, as if there's nothing else to them but their size, this book was an apt portrayal of superficial judgments by superficial people. So much more was going on below the surface here. However, I felt Nevare's character was rapidly revealing itself to be wishy-washy. In Book 1, he seemed loyal to the beliefs he was raised with, not merely trying to gain his father's approval. Here, he's questioning everything yet going back and forth between his world views. Other people's bad behavior (his worthless father's, for instance) more often than not turn him into a rebel who acts out simply because he wants to hurt the person who hurt him. The magic compounds this in ways he could never have anticipated and quickly regrets. This installment concluded in a way that made it clear Nevare can no longer straddle two very different worlds, as he's been trying to since the magic took him. Sooner rather than later, he'll have to make a choice.

Renegade's Magic, released in 2007, concludes the trilogy. Navare is dealing with a disjointed, dual personality when his body is taken over by a Speck spirit intent on wiping the Gernians out of all thought and mind. Navare's consciousness remains intact within the body, horrified by what his body snatcher is doing through him, but he's occasionally able to dream-walk in order to talk to his cousin, sister, and father. Eventually he realizes that the war inside him is mirrored in the war outside between the Speck people and the Gernians. If some compromise isn't made, they'll destroy each other. Long story short, Nevare undermines the Gernians' goal to clear the forest in order to build the King's road by capturing royalty's greedy interest in a gold mine instead. I thought that was fairly clever as a wrap-up to a plot that didn't seem possible to end in a happily ever after. I also felt like it spoke to real-life history, in which war may be temporarily averted by selfish greed, but inevitably violence comes back around. 

Instead of reading this trilogy, I listened to the audiobooks. I'm not sure I would have found the trilogy compelling enough, even from the first book, had I not taken this route. The last, especially, was painfully long (768 pages in the mass market paperback; 29 1/2 hours for the audio). I started skipping chapters here and there, which allowed me to get the gist of the plot development without having to be bored with the author's excruciating "glacial pace" (Publisher's Weekly). Undoubtedly, the books are extremely well-written, despite being padded with every possible, boring indulgence on Hobb's part. While Navare was a well-rounded protagonist, as were most of the other characters, I didn't feel the same connections with the characters nor were they as captivating as the Elderlings cast. Also, much of Book 1's content is focused on Navare's King's Cavalla Academy education, where Old Lords and the King's New Lords engage in society-status rivalry, which held little intrigue for a reader not enamored with war stories or rich/snobbish people who consider themselves superior to all other humans for little or no reason. The "fat, magical Navare" plot was also hard to take seriously in Book 2 but made a bit more sense in Book 3. (Note: In this book, magic uses fat as a conduit, so the more blubber, the better.) While I felt like the native people versus usurper and their progress theme was a bit heavy-handed, I found the magic aspects interesting enough to put up with three bloated volumes in order to reach a satisfying conclusion. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Paladin's Grace

As Karen explained in her review of the Saint of Steel series several weeks ago, that deity suddenly and inexplicably died, leaving his paladins with a void in their souls. As berserkers, often possessed by the god in combat, they’re now at risk of being overcome by the “black tide” of battle madness with no divine force to channel it. Those who survived this catastrophe now live as best they can under the patronage of the White Rat God, whose domains are healing and law. The series takes place in the same world as the Clocktaur duology and SWORDHEART, and Zale, a legal advocate who plays a major role in the latter novel, also appears in PALADIN’S GRACE.

Paladin Stephen more or less accidentally rescues Grace, a gifted perfume-maker. They feel an instant mutual attraction, which both resist, Stephen because of the unpredictable battle madness and Grace because of experiences with the emotionally abusive husband from whom she fled. Incidentally, their respective motives for reluctance to get involved seem plausible to me. Anyway, what kind of romance plot would we have if the course of true love ran smoothly from the first meeting? Nevertheless, as readers would expect, their paths keep crossing. Grace receives a commission to create a perfume for a foreign prince, a job that gets her unwillingly entangled in the hazards of court politics. By the time she falls under suspicion of poisoning and witchcraft, she and Stephen are so deeply involved that he risks everything to save her. The Temple of the White Rat comes to their aid, as, in a more subtle and problematic way, does Grace’s landlady and best friend, who turns out to be a professional spy.

In addition to the devotees of the White Rat (of whom I can never get enough), these books include an entertaining nonhuman species, gnoles, three-foot-tall, badger-like humanoids who perform a variety of jobs. One of their common sayings, “Humans can’t smell,” encapsulates their perception that most humans are so oblivious we can hardly be blamed for our ignorance. The gnoles’ own language applies gender pronouns according to class rather than biological sex. In the human tongue, though, they hardly ever use pronouns or proper names at all (except when being unusually formal and precise). A gnole refers to itself in the third person as “a gnole,” other creatures as “a human,” “an ox,” etc.

The author’s afterword states that she wanted to write a fluffy fantasy romance in the world of SWORDHEART and the Clocktaur duology. By the time she finished, she realized fluffy romances don’t usually contain so many severed heads. Subsequent Saint of Steel books feature some of Stephen’s comrades in their own love stories. In PALADIN’S STRENGTH, the love interest is a bear-shapeshifter lay sister of the Order of St. Ursa on a mission to rescue a group of kidnapped werebear nuns. In PALADIN’S HOPE, it’s a lich-doctor, this society’s equivalent of a medical examiner, who has the secret ability to view the final moments of any dead person or animal he touches. The fourth novel in the series, PALADIN'S FAITH, foregrounds Grace's undercover-agent landlady, Marguerite. All these novels display Kingfisher’s irresistible wit and sparkling characterization.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.

Swordheart

For me, one outstanding feature of T. Kingfisher’s fiction consists of her protagonists’ irresistibly distinctive voices. Halla, heroine of SWORDHEART, is no exception, although this book (unlike the horror novels) is narrated in third person rather than first. A widow in her thirties, she has just inherited the estate of her husband’s great-uncle, for whom she has kept house since her husband’s death. Her great-uncle by marriage, although stingy and eccentric, was always kind to her in his way. The postmortem gift of his house and fortune, however, proves far from a boon. Her in-laws, outraged at the bequest, want her to marry her unappealing cousin-in-law, Alver. Locked in her room, Halla rationally analyzes the pros and cons of either accepting that fate or killing herself with the only lethal instrument available to her, an ancient sword hanging on the bedroom wall. I love the pragmatic way she struggles with the logistics of stabbing herself.

When she manages to wrest the weapon out of its scabbard, a man appears from thin air. Long ago, Sarkis was cursed to become one with the sword, taking flesh when it’s drawn and vanishing when its wielder sheaths it. The total healing that occurs in the latter status (including the regrowth of amputated appendages) makes him immortal, a “gift” that he considers part of the curse. He has no clear idea of how many centuries he has existed in this condition because he spends the time “inside” the sword in a sort of suspended animation, barely conscious. The spell obligates him to serve the weapon’s wielder, who retains ownership of it until he or she dies or voluntarily gives it away. Therefore, Halla finds she has acquired an unkillable bodyguard. After he breaks her out of her makeshift prison, they decide to travel to the big city and enlist the help of an order of priests -- the Temple of the White Rat -- specializing in legal problems, among other practical matters.

On the way, it soon becomes clear that Halla’s trusting nature would get her into serious trouble without Sarkis’s protection. At their destination, the order assigns an advocate, Zale, to return home with Halla and bring a lawsuit to reclaim her rightful inheritance. Zale, a character with an entertainingly dry wit and a relentlessly calm, logical attitude, presents as nonbinary. The text doesn’t make a point of this fact; Zale is simply referred to without comment as “they.” In one of my favorite scenes, they and Halla devise a series of experiments to find out whether everything detached from Sarkis’s body vanishes when he dematerializes into the sword. (It does; he agrees to the urine experiment but draws the line at such tests as having a fingertip removed.) Naturally they stumble into obstacles and dangers along the way; that's how quest stories / road trips are expected to unfold. During the adventurous journey, as the reader would guess, Halla and Sarkis progress from constant annoyance with each other through respect and friendship to romantic attraction. Sarkis considers himself unworthy of love, quite aside from his magical link with the sword, because of the circumstances that led to the curse. Incidentally, their first love scene is one of my favorites, in not only Kingfisher's works but romances in general. It's so delightfully *practical.* And I'm crazy about fictional couples who actually *talk* about -- and during -- sex.

Gradually we learn fragments of his past. When he reveals the full truth to Halla, she reacts to the revelation with believable distress. Their reconciliation doesn’t come without effort, while the ultimate showdown with her in-laws looms, its result not a foregone conclusion. The heroes' triumph doesn't feel easy to me, considering the kidnapping of Zale and Halla, along with the theft of the sword by a treacherous character who'd appeared friendly. Even when those crises are overcome, how can Halla and a warrior who’s also a sword, sort of, find happiness? The dialogue constantly sparkles, even in the midst of problems that seem insoluble. Every stage along their quest kept me enthralled. Although their troubles eventually reach a satisfactory resolution, the epilogue contains a teaser for a potential sequel. That book, DAGGERBOUND, is scheduled for August 2026.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.

Thornhedge

THORNHEDGE, by T. Kingfisher (reviewed by Karen in mid-December), is a unique, emotionally stirring re-vision of “Sleeping Beauty” from the viewpoint of the fairy who casts the sleep spell. I'm a big fan of fairy-tale retellings, especially those that offer fresh angles on familiar classics. THORNHEDGE flips the perspective on the original tale's malevolent antagonist and innocent victim. Suppose there’s a very good reason why the princess shouldn’t be allowed to wake up? The protagonist, Toadling, a were-toad (it makes sense in context), has spent countless years lurking outside the deserted keep within its nearly impenetrable barrier of thorns and brambles, guarding the magic that keeps the princess in suspended animation. Meanwhile, the outside world rolls on through catastrophic historical events, such as a devastating plague, of which Toadling knows nothing until a curious knight arrives on the scene.

At first she only wants him to go away, but loneliness and the intriguing novelty of having someone to talk with overcome her reluctance to interact with the stranger. We gradually learn her background and the truth of the princess in the tower in a series of flashbacks as Toadling reveals her story to the knight. Born human, daughter of a minor king and queen, she was snatched from her cradle and replaced by a changeling. Since the fairies’ sole purpose for this action is to place the changeling with an unwitting family, they usually abandon the human child. The protagonist was found by greenteeth, marsh-dwelling faerie creatures; instead of eating her, as they often do with children, they lovingly raised her as one of their own. Growing up more fay than human, she learned water magic and shapeshifting into a toad. Later, she got instruction in spellcasting to prepare her for her destined mission -- to save her real parents from impending danger. Time in faerie unfolds at a different speed from mortal time; in this case, many years pass in faerie during mere hours or days in the mundane world (the reverse of the more common lore). So Toadling arrives in the royal court on the day of her substitute’s christening. A slip of the tongue makes her prepared spell go disastrously wrong. She’s barred from faerie and stuck with watching over the little changeling princess.

Halim, a Muslim knight who’s far from distinguished or wealthy, has little or no interest in tourneys or fighting in general. Instead, he has an insatiable drive to investigate mysteries and an open-minded, compassionate nature. When Toadling gives up trying to drive him away, they become friends of a sort as he attempts to break her “curse” by every method he can think of. Once he accepts her insistence that she herself is not cursed, he decides to enter the keep and convinces her to help him. Maybe they can find a way to free Toadling from her centuries-long vigil and exile from her home. In Toadling and Halim, Kingfisher has created two more of her typically thoughtful, quick-witted characters who don’t fit into the patterns of the roles they would play in most traditional fantasies or fairy tales. Their dialogues are delightful and the bond that grows between them deeply moving in a quiet way. Kingfisher’s afterword labels this book a “sweet” story, and I agree. Though there’s no hint of a potential sequel, I’d love to read the further adventures of these characters. In my opinion, THORNHEDGE is practically perfect, except that it’s too short.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt

Bryony and Roses

In this 2016 fantasy novel, recently reviewed by Karen, T. Kingfisher retells “Beauty and the Beast” with some variations unique to her. As in Robin McKinley’s ROSE DAUGHTER (whose influence Kingfisher cites), the heroine is an avid gardener, and roses play a central role. Bryony, however, far from beautiful, is the plainest of the three sisters, a pragmatic young woman whose third-person narrative viewpoint is tart, self-aware, and tinged with snark. Unlike the heroines of other versions, she doesn’t much care for roses, considering them more trouble than they’re worth and often outright vicious -- all those thorns. (Kingfisher also portrays roses negatively in a contemporary horror novel, A HOUSE WITH GOOD BONES.) The backstory follows the classic pattern, a widowed merchant losing all his wealth and property except for a cottage in a remote village, where he retires with his three daughters.

In this novel, both parents have died already, leaving the young women on their own. Bryony’s sisters are affectionate and hardworking rather than vain and jealous as in the classic tale. Holly is as practical and astringent as Bryony, while Iris is beautiful, delicate, and romantic. As the novel opens, it’s Bryony who gets stuck in a snowstorm and takes refuge, with her pony, in the mysterious, palatial manor house. After being feasted and sheltered, she tries to take a rose for Iris, provoking the Beast’s wrath. She delivers a chest full of coins to her home, packs a supply of plants and seeds, and returns to the Beast’s mansion. The house proves to be sentient and eagerly helpful almost to the point of smothering. As Bryony cultivates her garden and grows to care for the Beast, she finds that he can’t talk about the crucial elements of his past. The magic forcibly prevents him. As in some earlier adaptations, she dreams of a seductive man. Both the dreams and the house itself, though, have sinister undertones.

This version is darker than any other I’ve seen or read, with a climax verging on horror. The Beast’s origin story reveals him as neither an innocent victim of a malicious curse (as in the familiar fairy tale) nor a selfish brute needing to reform (as in the Disney version). He did bring his punishment upon himself, but the penalty was disproportionate to the offense, and he has long since repented and matured. The background of his transformation -- and that of the house -- is eerie and otherworldly in genuine fairy-tale style. To my delight, he doesn’t revert to human form at the end. That denouement has always felt like a letdown to me, no matter how well written or acted.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review of Three Retold Fairytale Selections by T. Kingfisher by Karen S. Wiesner

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review of Three Retold Fairytale Selections by T. Kingfisher

by Karen S. Wiesner 

Beware potential spoilers! 

 

I bought Nettle & Bone because I'm currently devouring just about everything with author T. Kingfisher's name on it. I didn't know what to expect, beyond that it was dark fantasy, though hardly what most people think of when it comes to a fairy tale. The back cover blurb tagline, "This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him" pretty much says it all. Or at least I initially thought it did. I can't really say why it reminded me of The Hunger Games, but something about the heroine Marra in the first handful of pages struck that chord of "responsible heroine takes matters into her own hands" when everyone around her fails to act the way they should. 

In Nettle & Bone, Marra is the youngest of three princesses. She herself is as far from "princessly" as it gets. In order to provide safety for their kingdom, her parents agree to the political marriage of Marra's eldest sister Damia to Prince Vorling. Months later, Damia is dead and Kania, the middle sister, is now Vorling's wife. Marra is sent to a convent. Before long, it becomes clear that Kania is trying to stay pregnant in order to escape the abuses of her cruel husband. Marra and Kania's queen mother knows that her daughters are being abused by this prince, but she chooses the safety of the kingdom above that of her own children. Though it'd be easy to judge the woman on that basis, this story is set during a time when females--not even queens or princesses--had many, if any, options. It was a man's world, and submitting was usually the only real option. Few have Marra's bravery, let alone her willingness to act to right the wrongs she sees in the world around her. There's a curse on all children born in the prince's family, something Marra knows has to do with the godmother who blesses each at birth, and she begins to search for a way to save her sister. 

First, Marra seeks out a powerful gravewitch (also called a dust-wife) who can communicate with the dead. The lone wolf dust-wife gives her three impossible tasks, and, after Marra inconceivably manages the first two of them, the dust-wife gives herself over to joining her foolish quest in killing the prince. The two are joined by the dust-wife's chicken familiar and the sweet, if somewhat half-there, bonedog Marra resurrected. The dust-wife clearly didn't want to be part of a group, let alone a family, but this isn't something she can resist for long. Along the way, they recruit a disgraced knight named Fenris and Marra's own godmother Agnes. 

Nettle & Bone was, initially, written in a non-linear fashion. In the opening scene, Marra is crafting the bone dog. However, the narrative soon begins to circle back around to explaining how she got to that point. I found this very awkward and not terribly compelling. Also, it seemed odd and not entirely convincing to me that Marra started the book telling us she was going to kill the prince despite the fact that Kania hated her, and Marra had known this truth about her sister for most of her life. To start with a character intent on murder without a strong enough reason why took me a little time to swallow. At first, I thought Marra's motivation for acting came down to her realization that, if Kania was killed by the prince, as their eldest sister had been, then Marra would be next in line to take her place. She had to stop that at any cost. That meant killing the prince. However, even that wasn't the full reason. I was soon persuaded that, more often than not, sisters love each other--even when they claim the opposite. It didn't matter Kania's feelings for Marra, whether once upon a time or currently. Kania was being treated as if she was little more than a punching bag and a baby factory. Didn't her personal happiness and well-being matter, or only the collective whole that make up their kingdom? That struck me as a much better motivation than I'd first assumed drove Marra. 

Still, I wasn't enamored of the main character right away (similarly, the heroine in The Hunger Games took a very long time and two full readings of the series to really grown on me). Some fifty pages in, I began to wonder if this story was worth reading. It was around Chapter 7, when Marra and the dust-wife visited the goblin market and rescued Fenris, that I was stunned to acknowledge I could no longer put the book down. I'd gone from half-hearted reading to voraciously being glued to the pages. The appearance of noble and selfless Fenris made Marra somehow human, the way she hadn't quite seemed to be earlier, as she'd focused so single-mindedly on the path set before her. Not long after that, Marra's godmother Agnes joined the crew. She was so scatter-brained, hilarious, and interesting, I just loved her. Soon the reader learns that Agnes, as a magical fairy godmother, isn't just good at blessing newborns with good health, but she also has the power to just as easily curse any being and destroy lives in the process. Yet Agnes has made a deliberate choice not to use her power for evil. 

As lovably impatient and grouchy as the dust-wife feigns to be, she's becoming irresistibly drawn into this group as I myself was being hooked. Fenris described them as "Five of us. Five is a fist. Five is a hand on the enemy's throat." A fist includes a hand, and this is what holds people together as a family and in friendships in the physical sense. Along the path of their quest, this unit had become a family, and I wasn't ready to let them go when the story concluded. I want to see them all again, but the author claims a sequel isn't in the offing. Sigh. I hope that changes, but we'll have to see. 

I'm so glad I didn't stop reading this book that, admittedly, took too long to capture me--though, at least when it finally did, it was irrevocable. I urge everyone who liked The Hunger Games series or loves a fairy tale turned on its head to stick with this one, even if the beginning is a little tough to get through. It's well worth the effort. 

I believe this book is one of many that could be described as "reimagined and unconventional fairytales" by this author. I'm a huge fan of things like that (see my Woodcutter's Grim Series https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/woodcutters-grim-series.html). In trying to get a handle on some of the other books Kingfisher has written in this vein that include a reinterpretation of beloved fairytales, I came up with this list of her selections, arranged below on the basis of publication dates: 

The Seventh Bride ("Mr. Fox"/"The Robber Bridegroom", and other variants) 

Bryony and Roses ("Beauty and the Beast")

The Raven and the Reindeer ("The Snow Queen") 

Thornhedge ("Sleeping Beauty")

A Sorceress Comes to Call ("Goose Girl")

Hemlock & Silver ("Snow White")

In the case of Nettle & Bone, the story doesn't encompass any one specific fairytale--more of a subversion of everything that's been done rolled into one. 

 

Released in 2015, I was able to get the audiobook of Bryony and Roses from one of my library apps. Bryony and her sisters are just getting by after their merchant father's death. But when Bryony stumbles into what she thinks is an abandoned manor to escape a snow storm, she meets Beast, who could be a monster or her fate and future. This clever retelling had a lovely romance that was developed over time, through trials, and much shared experience. The story was very unpredictable, considering how well known the original is. I loved that. The characters were compelling and witty. I was rooting for them even after the dark secret the Beast hid was revealed.

 

Released in 2023, I listened to the audiobook of Thornhedge from the library app. The voice actor had a halting way of reading that was a bit annoying. Luckily the story was short (under four hours). In this reimagined version of Sleeping Beauty, an unconventional knight meets the caretaker of Thornhedge. Toadling is kind of a toad shapeshifter created by fairy magic. She makes it clear that, chivalry aside, waking the sleeping princess might just be the biggest mistake he'll ever make. Luckily, this knight isn't really what most people think of when they imagine a knight--but he is what Toadling longs for. The romance was subtle and sweet, and I enjoyed the author's unusual take on a favorite fairytale of mine. 

Kingfisher thrives at unique and unorthodox perspectives with riveting, fist to the gut twists that come out of nowhere. Nettle & Bone, in particular, would make an amazing film. If you're a fan of reimagined fantasy tales of romance and adventure, whatever you do, don't miss even one of these. I plan to review the rest of Kingfisher's reimagined fairytales when they become available through my library apps. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Illuminations

From the review in my newsletter back when the book was first released, here's my take on T. Kingfisher's ILLUMINATIONS, reviewed by Karen last week. As she mentioned, this isn't a horror novel, like the books that made Kingfisher one of my new favorite authors, but an alternate-world fantasy for preteens (judging by the age of the protagonist, although readers of any age can enjoy it). It takes place in an alternate nineteenth-century Europe in which the French Revolution, or its local equivalent, seems to have succeeded better than in our history, for the whole continent uses the Revolutionary calendar with its renamed months and days. The heroine, Rosa, dwells in a city resembling Venice, with canals, a Dynast instead of a king, and mostly Italian-sounding names. An orphan, she lives with her eccentric but endearing extended family, one of the most distinguished lineages of illuminators. She’s practicing the art but so far hasn’t graduated to producing actual illuminations. Her favorite things to draw are radishes with fangs. Unfortunately, that image serves no useful purpose. There’s a massive reference tome listing all known illuminations, each of which must be drawn in precise, unvarying detail to be effective. Fanged radishes aren’t among them.

Against the background of a major civic project using illuminations to fix a long-term problem with the city’s sewage disposal, Rosa’s own trouble begins when she finds a mysterious box in the basement. She accidentally releases a creature imprisoned in the box, and a crow painted on the lid comes to life. His information about the history of the box and its connection to one of Rosa’s ancestors seems a bit shady, and he’s easily distracted by the urge to pilfer shiny objects. His insistence that she not tell the rest of the family about him gets her into trouble when the diminutive monster starts vandalizing their home workshop and the illuminations themselves. After the nuisance escalates into danger, though, the crow does come clean with the full truth at last. I don’t want to go into spoilery detail about the family’s fight against the malicious creature and its minions, so I’ll mention only that Rosa’s radishes play a surprising role. Meanwhile, the story nicely balances Rosa’s magical woes with her preteen-girl difficult relationship with her best friend, daughter of another important illuminator family, who’s just enough older than Rosa to start making real illuminations for clients. Like Kingfisher’s A WIZARD’S GUIDE TO DEFENSIVE BAKING, ILLUMINATIONS portrays a young heroine whose odd magical talent turns out to be of vital importance. As usual, Kingfisher writes the protagonist’s viewpoint in an irresistibly witty style.

Margaret L. Carter

Please explore love among the monsters at Carter's Crypt.

Review for The Sisters of the Winter Wood by Rena Rossner Combined with an Original Article: Unique by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Review for The Sisters of the Winter Wood by Rena Rossner

Combined with an Original Article: Unique

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware spoilers! 

Published in 2018, The Sisters of the Winter Wood is the debut novel of literary agent Rena Rossner, who lives in Israel. I really don't know how to categorize this unusual story. It's a blend of magic and reality, fantasy, folklore, cultural history (specifically Jewish mythology). As to whether it's young adult, I'm not certain. Both protagonists are teenage girls, but I don't know if the intention was for it to be read only by young adults. I was looking for a new audiobook and this one came up, promising to be something atmospheric and supernatural. It was both. The narrator, Ana Clements, was the perfect choice for this material, and I'd go so far as to say that no one else could have done it better. 

In this tale, 17-year-old Liba and her 14-year-old sister Laya live with their parents in a remote village. They've been raised in the forest in a very insular way by their Jewish father and converted-but-never-truly-accepted mother. When their parents are forced to leave the girls at home because the roads aren't safe in order to visit their dying grandfather, the sisters are thrust into secrets and discoveries they could never have imagined. Liba, like her father, has the ability to transform into a bear. Laya and her mother can become swans. Neither girl ever had a clue about this prior to their parents leaving. Overnight, the entire world changes for them as dark forces gather and the village is plunged into danger. 

In ways, I found it unfortunate that the author chose to reveal the shapeshifting abilities when the girls are teenagers. So much of this book was overwhelmed with the angst and ardor of two young, impressionable girls who long to explore their sensuality, despite the environment they were raised in. While I found the cultural aspects of the story intriguing, these characters were painted as good, responsible daughter (Liba) and stupid, flighty daughter (Laya). Combine that bland ordinary (in my opinion anyway) with the persecution of a people wherever they go, seemingly, and it strongly began to feel like there was a wider agenda being served up in this chill, supernatural setting. I was looking for the extraordinary, so for that reason, I found myself mildly disappointed when the tone of the story seemed to change to something much more mundane, like bigotry. 

Despite that, as the kiss of winter begins making itself known in my area of the world along with the promise of Thanksgiving and Christmas, like the unmistakable scent of cinnamon and pine needles in the air, I couldn't stop thinking about the deeper issues this story undergirds and makes haunting with its icy refrain. 

"UNIQUE" 

Liba and Laya live in a world that isn't all that different from the one you and I inhabit. That world and this one seems to want to put everyone in little boxes that may not fit and then persecute those deemed undesirable while they're there. Just like Dr. Seuss's Sneetches story, this is one of the things in this life that should never be. Inside those shackled boxes, we learn the horrors of judging, racism, prejudice, genocide… The list of monstrous behaviors is endless for those who see themselves as superior to all others, so much so that they commit atrocities on other human beings. When people begin to think of themselves as special--even chosen by God (why is it that so many madmen in the history of the world believe that?)--sometimes they view this as permission to do terrible things to others who they see as different from them. 

We all share similar origin--whatever color our skin is, whatever the culture or community or religion or gender we're raised in. We're also all born with a predetermined appearance (based on what our parents impart to us genetically), and there's very little we can actually do about what we're given in an external sense. Physical attractiveness is little more than subjectivity anyway. Two people will never agree on what makes anyone beautiful, so why are we so fixed on the outside shell of a human being? Frankly, it's all stupid. Make no mistake--the "ugly" and the "lovely" are both given these things at birth; no one chose them or can claim that they had anything to do with their own fortune or curse in that regard. While it's important to take care of ourselves so we're healthy and fit and as attractive as we can be externally, in truth we should simply be more accepting of each other's exterior appearance, our race, our culture--and our own--yet we're not! No generation ever really learns from this fatal flaw in our thinking that seems to be a factory reset from one age to the next. It's completely senseless how human beings create innate separations in classes, races, genders, and religions. What a celebration it could be if only we could rejoice over the differences that make each of us unique! 

It takes a tremendous amount of grace and character to accept our differences. Twice as much to accept others with the same equanimity! That's why it's so important to put the majority of our focus into what can be controlled, what can be changed, what can be built and bloomed and become--the internal aspect of who we are, the person inside, the being we want to be more than anything. That's where true beauty can be refined. The interesting part about that is that inner beauty can transform the outer shell. A person so remarkable and loving can be physically astounding, even if realistically the outer package may not suggest it can be so. True inner beauty is also the lasting part of a person's identity. Inner beauty transforms every aspect of our being, including our perspective of the world around us. 

I don't believe I'm unique in that I want to be remembered for the person I was in life, for inner beauty and goodness. That's all that really matters in the end. Those are lasting things that can live on even when I'm gone. We can actually make a mark on this world in that way. But it requires us to let go of vanity and accept who we are, where we come from and how we were raised, even what we look like. It requires not seeing ourselves as superior to all others and to instead see everyone as unique and worthwhile. 

Focused on what matters, build a life that has purpose and meaning. It will outlive you, I promise. You'll never regret that part, and it is what will give you joy, satisfaction, and ultimately contentment. The only person you have to give an accounting to while in this life is yourself. So be the inner person you want to be without shame or regret. It will reflect on the exterior. That is something no one can take away from you. 

Never mind the irony that I'm suggesting that you read The Sisters of the Winter Wood (a very Jewish story, at least on the surface) at this time of year--whether the Thanksgiving or Christmas holiday--when most hearts turn to being mindful of what we have. During this time, we seem to reflect more on the things that matter. To seeing the good in ourselves and in others, to being the hope, benevolence, and goodwill that we want to spread to all. Ultimately, this story I'm reviewing this week will make you realize the heart of what's important in life and the role each of us play in the outcome of good and evil. Our choices can impact everything in and around us. Be a change and influence for good. Be the goodwill and benevolence you want to see. Be unique. Above all, remember that the differences in each of us can become the very celebrations that make life worthwhile. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Cozy Fantasy by Sarah Beth Durst

Recently I've gotten into the emergent subgenre of "cozy fantasy" -- for example, LEGENDS AND LATTES and its prequel, BOOKSHOPS AND BONEDUST, by Travis Baldree. (Both titles actually have ampersands in place of the word "and," but for some reason this software doesn't like that.) Unsure how to define it specifically enough, I'm still in the "I know it when I see it" phase. So here's an essay that covers the topic in lucid detail:

What Is Cozy Fantasy?

This blogger's summary definition: "Cozy Fantasy can be defined as a fantasy book with a slice-of-life ambience wrapped up in a story that is healing or comforting, that centers deeply on its worldbuilding and characters, but in the end has a hopeful narrative." Because of the content of the novels I've read so far, I tend to think of cozy fantasy as mainly dealing with quirky shops in small towns; however, as the author of the blog mentions, it doesn't always take place in that kind of setting.

Here's the Goodreads list of cozy fantasies. Because it's compiled from readers' classifications of books, though, it should be taken with a grain if not a shaker of salt. For instance, T. Kingfisher's SWORDHEART and Heather Fawcett's Emily Wilde novels definitely do NOT fit into the category:

Cozy Fantasy on Goodreads

These general remarks lead up to a review of Sarah Beth Durst's THE ENCHANTED GREENHOUSE, which I love, linked to her earlier novel THE SPELLSHOP, which I also love. By the way, the plots of these books certainly don't feature "low stakes," mistakenly cited by some readers as a defining trait of cozy fantasy.

While THE ENCHANTED GREENHOUSE is part prequel to and part spinoff from THE SPELLSHOP, the two novels can be read independently. Aside from a shared setting, they’re connected by a sentient spider plant, a major secondary character in THE SPELLSHOP, whose creation triggers the events at the beginning of THE ENCHANTED GREENHOUSE. The two heroines, both librarians, reverse-mirror each other in personality. The protagonist of THE SPELLSHOP is an introvert perfectly content to live in her corner of the library without speaking to anyone except the spider plant for weeks at a time. Upon returning to her home island, she shrinks from meeting people and tries in vain to discourage her obtrusively friendly nearest neighbor. Terlu in THE ENCHANTED GREENHOUSE, on the other hand, expected that as a librarian she would meet scholars and other patrons every day, helping them find the perfect books for their needs. Instead, she works in unwelcome isolation. In her loneliness, she casts a spell to bestow sentience on the spider plant, violating the harsh law against magical activity by non-sorcerers, just to have someone to talk to.

She ends up alone on an island with a handsome but antisocial gardener who communicates mainly by grunts and shrugs. The story begins with the trial that condemns her to transformation into a wooden statue as an example to other would-be lawbreakers. Six years later, she reverts to human form, awakening amid a snow-covered landscape on the aforesaid island. The only inhabitant, Yarrow, the caretaker for a complex of enchanted greenhouses, petitioned the capital of the Empire for a sorcerer to stop the gradual degradation of the magic that keeps the greenhouses functional. Instead, he received Terlu along with instructions on how to break her punitive spell. From him, she learns the sorcerer who ruled the island died some time ago, and ever since, greenhouses have failed at regular intervals. Glass cracks, and the spells that maintain their internal environments stop working. The structures house a fascinating variety of plant life, both magical and mundane, in a wide array of micro-climates. Terlu also meets miniature dragons, a winged cat, a talking rosebush, and a roomful of other sentient, ambulatory plants (after she wakes them). One feature of this world I especially like is its diverse population of multiple human races, humanoids, and human-animal hybrids (although in this book we don’t see much of them until the island gets re-settled at the end). Terlu, for instance, has lavender skin, and nobody thinks anything of it. It’s also a delightful novelty to see a “pleasingly plump” heroine with a face resembling a cheerful chipmunk’s.

The initially grumpy, withdrawn Yarrow nevertheless helps her as much as possible and invites her to stay in his own cottage, even though he clearly thinks she talks too much. As they work together researching the books and notes left by the dead sorcerer, who became increasingly paranoid with age, to figure out the cause and cure for the failing magic, Yarrow unbends toward Terlu. They become friends who soon share, naturally, numerous moments of awkward romantic attraction. Their growing bond is endearing and believable. It’s also credible that Terlu fears the potential consequences of meddling with magic at a far more serious level than her original transgression (just as the heroine of THE SPELLSHOP fears getting caught at her necessary but illegal spellcasting). She’s torn between her dread of being discovered by imperial investigators and her longing to save the greenhouses and their precious plants. Of course, we know what she’ll choose, but the suspense is genuine, as is the difficulty of finding out what went wrong and how to fix it. Meanwhile, Yarrow struggles to face his fraught relationship with his extended family who left him alone on the island –- even if the sorcerer gave them little choice –- while Terlu questions whether she dares to let her own family know she’s alive. All those factors, along with the heartwarming conclusion, made this a story that I hated to see end. Durst has created a fantasy world many readers will want to linger in. Next July a third book, called SEA OF CHARMS, will be published (a whole year to wait!).

Margaret L. Carter

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