Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} The Raven and the Reindeer by T. Kingfisher by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

The Raven and the Reindeer by T. Kingfisher

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware major spoilers (you'll get pretty much the whole story here)! 

Of late on the Alien Romances Blog, I've been reviewing "reimagined and unconventional fairytales" written by T. Kingfisher. In my first take on Kingfisher's loose renderings of fairytales, I reviewed Nettle & Bone, which is basically a subversion of everything that's been done in a fairytale all rolled into one, along with Bryony and Roses ("Beauty and the Beast") and Thornhedge ("Sleeping Beauty"). After that, I reviewed The Seventh Bride ("Mr. Fox"/"The Robber Bridegroom", and other aberrations) by itself followed by A Sorceress Comes to Call ("The Goose Girl"). 

In preparation for reading The Raven and the Reindeer, a 2016 LGBTQ fantasy release, I re-read the 1844 original Danish tale "The Snow Queen" published in New Fairy Tales, First Volume by Hans Christian Andersen. You can find it online free in many different places. Unlike most of these fairytales, this one is presented in seven long, mostly boring chapters in which a lot of crap that doesn't matter in the least is included and the stuff that's really important is unforgivably skated over (more about that later). Some inventive adaptations of the original that most people will know include C. S. Lewis's The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe and Disney's Frozen. 

So the basic story in "The Snow Queen" is that the devil makes a magic mirror that reflects only the worst aspects of everyone and everything. When it shatters, pieces of it fall and get stuck in people's eyes and hearts, forcing them to become cold and bitter. Gerda and Kai (both names are spelled differently from one variation to the next) are children who grow up next door to each other. Gerda is in love with Kai, he kisses her, but then splinters of the mirror get in his eye and heart, changing him. The Snow Queen comes to town and takes Kai away with her. Gerda is determined to rescue him and goes through a whole lot to do that, though mainly we're forced to endure a lot of boring prose that does nothing to further the tale. All the aspects of "magic" and the supernatural that are the point of this whole story are offered up as short, simple facts, a presumption of acceptance is thrown down like a gauntlet, and readers dare not question the plausibility of anything. Boiled down, the series of events Gerda goes through are:

1)    Gerda is enchanted by a witch who puts her to work in her garden for an endless amount of time until she's able to wake up…you know, somehow.

2)    A crow Gerda can talk to tells her he might have seen Kai in a palace--but it's not him, so it was a big waste of time even going there.

3)    Gerda is kidnapped by a band of robbers, but the robber girl and her reindeer decide to help Gerda instead.

4)    Traveling north, they meet two women. The second tells the reindeer that Gerda has special power that can save Kai--her sweet and innocent child's heart. If she can't figure it out from there, well, that's her problem!

5)    They get to the Snow Queen's palace and enter easily. This is where Kai has been put to work on a Mirror of Reason puzzle that enchants him to stay where he is forever. Gerda rushes to him and kisses him, the spell is broken, and her tears melt the splinters in his heart and eye.

6)    Happily ever after. I said, happily ever after, sir! Just accept it, okay? How, what, when, where, why? you splutter. It just is. I don't know what happened to the crow or the robber girl or the reindeer. Gerda and Kai get away--the Snow Queen apparently was getting her hair done or something, and they're free to leave, go home, and Grandma reads a passage from the Bible about changing and becoming as little children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I'm confused. What just happened? Does any of this make the slightest bit of sense? The bigger question, to me, is, how did this story become such a popular one? I mentioned two popular retellings, but there are dozens in existence. Unfathomably. In Kingfisher's acknowledgements, she wonders about that as well. Maybe because it was done so incompletely and poorly?

So, here's my big gripe: Nearly all old fairytales present a story that's almost always rife with unbelievable magic or events that are in no way explained, justifiable, or even particularly detailed. More like's it's presented as if readers are expected to go along with it, like, "Oh, it's magic/unbelievable/crazy. So that happened. Okay, I believe it. Onward!" Except you can't quite believe it because there's no basis for justification. You either move forward, accept that it's all silly and just keep reading because period…or you don't. It's as if the authors didn't feel the need to get their audience to accept the plausibility of their tales. You'd think they would or could have at least tried to provide some kind of elucidation. So often, they didn't bother. Don't ask me why not, or why the publishers didn't make it a requirement then. I can't even imagine. 

I realize most of you already know what the literary concept of "suspension of disbelief" is, but I'll reiterate the gist of it here just to make sure everyone's on the same page, since that's the foundation of this review. In essence, a valid explanation is introduced early in the story that gives the readers what they need to accept something fantastically implausible. If a reader isn't given this justification, it's almost impossible for them to immerse themselves in the story at any point. It's too unbelievable. I'd add that readers who aren't given something convincing enough in this regard either chuck the book over the side of the boat or they spend the rest of the narration in the booing section, shouting snide comments like, "And how exactly did they do that?" every few seconds. 

The original fairytale "The Snow Queen" is one of the worst I've ever seen when it comes to the author not giving even the slightest hint of something that would allow suspension of disbelief. Readers are moved from one situation to the next and, if the writer had done the slightest bit of work (hey, that's part of the craft!), maybe those situation could have been exciting and worthwhile. Instead, we're just left to muddle our way through a thicket of dense forest in the dark with no idea what's important and what's not. We're relieved when it's over, sure, but not for the reason I suspect the author intended. 

T. Kingfisher's rendition, The Raven and the Reindeer, went through every single chapter of Anderson's pitiful, poorly constructed story and gave us worthy justifications that allowed for suspension of disbelief from start to finish. As I read "The Snow Queen", the same question kept come back from one scenario to the next: "How in the world did that work?" I never found out. The author had a really good idea for a story, but he didn't bother to write anything but this skeleton that was bloated with unsightly and painful boils. Mainly, he got sidetracked by silliness that does not story construction make. 

So now I'll tell you how Kingfisher told this tale: Gerta is in love with Kay, and though they're friends, he doesn't seem to know what to make of their relationship, though he does kiss her once--something that confuses her, as well it should. They grew up as neighbors. He's a strange boy who likes puzzles, but she doesn't mind his oddities, though she's put off by them sometimes, internalizing them. She has a nightmare one night, in which Kay is kidnapped by a frost queen in a sled. The next morning, she sees something is definitely going on because the boy she's known all her life has become cold and cruel. Not long later, Kay goes missing and Gerta realizes, after talking to her very knowledgeable grandmother, that it was the Snow Queen who took him. Gerta is determined to get him back. She thinks she may be in love with him, but she isn't sure about that. She sets off and doesn't really know where to go or how to get there, which is probably why she fumbles through so many bad episodes along the way. Boiled down, the series of events Gerta follows after this point are:

1)    Gerta is enchanted by a witch who isn't evil or particularly powerful, just lonely. She puts her under an enchantment. Every day Gerta works in her garden. Seven months pass. A memory of Kay jars Gerta so she wakes up to realize something bad is happening to her. She talks to the flowers in the garden, who tell her Kay can't be dead because, being one with the whole earth, they would know if his body joined theirs. Gerta confronts the witch, who repents and gives her the basic supplies she needs to survive her journey.

2)    A raven named Mousebones that Gerda can talk to joins her on the road. He's loyal and very helpful in his way, when he wants to be, but he's also sharp-tongued. Fun!

3)    Gerta is kidnapped by a band of robbers who want to eat her, but the robber girl with them, Janna, is also a prisoner of sorts. She and her reindeer (who Gerta can also talk to) decide to help Gerta instead. In fact, the reindeer is so old and lonely for a herd that he offers up his skin so Gerta can walk the reindeer road, which is the only way Gerta can get into the Snow Queen's realm. (In essence, the reindeer willingly gives up his skin so Gerta can wear it and become a reindeer.) When Janna kisses Gerta, she becomes very confused about her feelings for Kay.

4)    Traveling north, they meet an old storyteller who tells them to find Livli, a Lutheran and one who understands reindeer and cold in ways few others can.

5)    They find a tunnel into the Snow Queen's palace and, thanks to the very friendly and adorable otters that pull her sled, they're able to find Kay. The otters don't feel much loyalty to the monster they're forced to serve. Kay's been put to work on a puzzle all this time, and he's anything but friendly toward Gerta. He believes she's wasted her time trying to find him. Gerda has been wondering herself why she went to all this trouble. But she's reminded that he has ice splinters in his heart and eye, causing him to be cold and cruel to her and her new friends.

6)    The Snow Queen shows up, and she blasts Gerta with her icy powers. Gerta is, for all intents and purposes, dead--but remember how Gerta could talk to the flowers because they're connected with all things of the earth? Well, now semi-dead, Gerta is also of the earth and "Mother Nature" can talk to her directly. She tells Mother Nature that she's been under the Snow Queen's enchantment all this time, forestalling spring, and causing animals and other things of nature to go hungry, etc. This enrages Mother Nature, and she's coaxed into fighting back against this evil being. Gerta asks if she can be sent back to the world of the living, to Kay, sure, and her animal friends, but mostly to Janna, whom she's fallen in love with and intends to spend the rest of her life with just as soon as Kay is delivered home to his family. The friendly, flying otters are happy to assist now that they're also free. 

Even on the basis of this summary, I think you can imagine that this was a very well-constructed, tense, worthwhile story that has a more fitting and appropriate happily ever after than whatever the heck that was in the original tale. 

The Raven and the Reindeer takes the rattling bones of Anderson's bad, bad, bad story and makes it something unexpected, fully human, and intriguing. It's almost like a literal retelling in which all the important areas of the original that were foolishly left out are finally explained and logically played out. Gerta isn't someone who really understands herself or the world around her (like, at all), so she falls into a lot of traps, like believing she must be destined to end up with Kay as her soulmate, assuming everyone is honest and above-board, and taking so long to realize that her innate abilities are the very ones she needs to succeed in her quest. The character building here was fairly complex, unlike the original. To round all this out, we're treated to Kingfisher's trademark, animated, loveable creatures. In my opinion, they're what really made this particular story something special. 

The author herself (under her real name Ursula Vernon) designed the very cool and stunning cover art. 

I'm still hoping to get hold of Hemlock & Silver ("Snow White") soon to complete the circle of review of T. Kingfisher's fairytale retellings. 

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/

Brain-Computer Interface News

A 41-year-old Colorado man has become a cyborg by way of electrodes implanted in his brain:

Brain-Computer Interface in Higher Levels of Brain

A spinal-cord injury nine years ago left him with paralyzed legs and limited control of his arms. With a brain-computer interface installed in his cortex, he's potentially regaining the use of his hands. He can already move a cursor with his mind and can feel his own fingers, which he couldn't do before the surgery. "There are three ports installed on top of his head that can connect and communicate with outside computers." Unlike similar devices that work with the motor area of the brain, this one in the "higher-functioning areas of the brain in the cortex" offers the possibility of "more natural and complete sensory and motor control." So far, the system is experimental, not available outside the lab. Eventually, researchers hope for "uses not only in motor control, but in cognitive control, possibly leading to therapies for mood disorders or dementia."

Here's a longer article that goes into more detail, such as how visualization enables the subject to produce effects on a computer screen. It also highlights how this research surpasses earlier projects in restoring sensory feedback, allowing the subject to feel objects as well as move them.

Paralyzed Man Gets Brain-Computer Implant

In the far-distant future, could a similar but much more advanced interface confer abilities such as those of Anne McCaffrey's brainships? That series focuses on people born with such severe defects they require extreme technological support to survive. At birth, they're immediately put into life-support "shells" whose electronic interfaces give them sensory and motor abilities beyond natural human capacity. As adults, most shell persons become the "brains" of starships, with an entire ship effectively functioning as the person's body (though some serve as the control centers of space stations instead). Or imagine a more down-to-Earth application, e.g., fully functional robot bodies for severely disabled people.

Margaret L. Carter

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

Other People's Golden Advice

My hands are still afflicted with carpal tunnel syndrome, so this weekend I will share links to some golden advice from other people.

Authors Guild has contract advice.

https://authorsguild.org/news/authors-guild-releases-new-ai-model-clauses-and-issues-updates/

Angela Hoy of Writers Weekly has publishing advice.
https://writersweekly.com/editors-desk/authors-the-traditional-book-publishing-industry-is-dying?utm_source=mailpoet&utm_medium=email&utm_source_platform=mailpoet&utm_campaign=writersweekly-com-112119_67

SFWA-sponsored Writer Beware has valuable advice about scams and dirty deeds targeting writers.
https://writerbeware.blog/

All the best,

Rowena Cherry

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: Miss Spitfire (Reaching Helen Keller) by Sarah Miller by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: Miss Spitfire (Reaching Helen Keller) by Sarah Miller

by Karen S. Wiesner 

 

This post is a little late for National Teacher Day, celebrated annually on the Tuesday of the first full week of May, but better late than never! While it's touted as a historical children's story, anyone who loves Helen Keller and inspirational stories is sure to enjoy this one.  

My first experience with Sarah Miller was a novel called Caroline, a novelized take of the Laura Ingalls Wilder tales from the point of view of Laura's patient, gentle, long-suffering mother. I enjoyed very much seeing familiar, beloved scenes written from the viewpoint of another character--one who's so different from impulsive, headstrong Laura. This is one of Miller's great loves--fictionalized retakes of stories we know told in a unique point of view. Other accounts Miller's done are of Lizzie Borden, Lorena Hickok (friend of first lady Eleanor Roosevelt); Mary Surratt, the first woman to be executed for her alleged involvement in Lincoln's assassination; along with an alternate view of Alcott's beloved Little Women from the perspective of Margaret March.

When I saw the author's first release in July 10, 2007 was a fictionalized version of Helen Keller from the point of view of her teacher Anne Sullivan, I knew I had to read it. I listened to the audiobook of Miss Spitfire (Reaching Helen Keller), which was wonderfully narrated by Terry Donnell, who's also voice-acted many of historical fantasy author Juliet Marillier's books. Her authentic Irish accent brings this account to life in a way few others could have done justice to. 

From the youngest age, I loved the story of Helen Keller, who was a spitfire in her own right. I didn't know too much about her teacher, though naturally one develops great respect for anyone willing to put up with the kind of bratty ill-treatment Helen dished out. Anne Sullivan went above and beyond. But she was a hard woman who'd had enough of bad behavior in her childhood (she was 20 when she became Helen's teacher) to refuse to tolerate it, so there were times it wasn't easy to listen to what came off to me as semi-abusive. That said, it was equally hard oftentimes to feel sorry for Helen because she was such a wild animal at first. Even when you understand she lived in a world she couldn't understand with her senses, the way most of us do, it's difficult to imagine the unwavering, compassionate determination of someone like Anne Sullivan after Helen inflicted such injuries and cruelty on her teacher. 

Anne herself was a spitfire, an orphan who lost everything, that was put in situations that could easily have broken her. She suffered from partial blindness herself (which became total a year before she died). With no other means to support herself, Anne is tasked with teaching a six-year-old girl how to communicate. Like Anne, Helen hadn't been born blind and deaf (she contracted a severe illness at 19 months old while Anne's partial blindness was the result of an infection when she was five). Both were highly intelligent. At first, Anne's not entirely sure how to go about such a monumental undertaking. At that time, there was little to guide her path when it came to proven methods of teaching the blind and deaf. Because she shares some of the same struggles, Anne can easily imagine what it must be like for this child to grow up feeling like an alien with little place of comfort nor understanding of the wider world she's forced to live in without explanation. In order for Anne to bridge connections between Helen and her world, Anne has to use manual alphabet and tactile methods combined with frustrating initial failures and incremental achievements. 

The author based this story on letters Anne wrote, excerpted at the beginning of each chapter. Full warning: This is not an upbeat, gentle tale. It starts out almost overwhelmingly tragic, filled with doubts and painful struggles. However, the thing that wins out above all is the inspirational message. Small, seemingly inconsequential triumphs can lead to success. Anne and Helen's story also makes you see the bigger picture when it comes to conceding defeat too early. Don't give up. The rewards we can reap from patient, dogged determination can domino through generations, far beyond what anyone might hope for or even dream. Helen Keller is and always will be known as a pillar of strength and perseverance--but let's not forget her tenacious teacher, Anne Sullivan, who never conceded defeat when she could so easily have done so and still gotten well-deserved credit for the effort she expended. Don't miss seeing both sides of this timeless, uplifting narrative that speaks boldly of human resilience and resourcefulness. 

 “Children are likely to live up to what you believe of them.” ~Lady Bird Johnson 

“Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” ~W.B. Yeats 

"A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” ~Henry Adams 

 “Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” ~Helen Keller 

“There is always satisfaction in the reflection that, if there were no trials, there would be no victories.” ~Anne Sullivan 

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/

Who Wants to Live Forever?

That's roughly the title of an article I came across in the newspaper over the weekend:

Want to Live Forever?

Disappontingly, the article doesn't offer the secret to immortality. It suggests three main ways of extending one's lifespan, two of them rather mundane: Vitamin B12 as an aid to physical and mental health in aging; maintaining optimal sleep rhythms; becoming a Greenland shark. Found to live two centuries or more, Greenland sharks have "evolved resilience to molecular and tissue damage over time."

Here's the Wikipedia page on the longest-lived known species in various categories:

List of Longest-Living Organisms

Even not counting colonies, clones, microbes, or creatures such as the "immortal jellyfish" (reverting to a larval stage and cycling through repeated growth phases), it's worth noting that almost all the extraordinarily long-lived species -- those that exceed the normal human lifespan -- aren't mammals. Some trees are 4000 years old or more. The glass sponge can reach 10,000 years. Another type of sponge is known to live to 1550 years, while tubeworms may reach 1000. One particular Greenland shark may be over 500 years old, the longest living vertebrate. Giant tortoises' lifespans have been estimated at approximately or, in at least one case, beyond 200 years. Bowhead whales may reach two centuries, making them the longest-lived mammals. Some birds live to over 100. Virtually all the other animals on the list capable of outliving us aren't warmblooded. Moreover, many of them dwell in cold environments, particularly aquatic. Is there something about cold water that promotes longevity?

Judging from the known record-holders among humans, our maximum lifespan peaks around 120. Therefore, Robert Heinlein's fascinating life-extension project, as described in METHUSELAH'S CHILDREN and related works such as TIME ENOUGH FOR LOVE and TO SAIL BEYOND THE SUNSET, simply wouldn't work the way it's portrayed. If the genetically determined limit on our lifespan is set at 120, no amount of concentrated inbreeding among individuals with genes for longevity would produce descendants surviving for multiple centuries. The breeding project couldn't create new genes. A mutation would be needed; in the introduction to TIME ENOUGH FOR LOVE, it's explicitly stated that Lazarus Long, born near the beginning of the multigenerational project and practically immortal (although even he, like everybody else, requires artificial life-extension treatments to go on surviving indefinitely), owes his phenomenal age and perpetual youth to a mutation. In much later generations, after he has spread his genes throughout the network of "Howard Families," it would be plausible for all their offspring to live for centuries without aging beyond maturity. But not at the time of METHUSELAH'S CHILDREN.

Anyway, as the theme song to the TV series HIGHLANDER puts it, who wants to live forever? One society in Jonathan Swift's GULLVER'S TRAVELS includes a subset of immortal people. They do grow old, however, and they have an unhappy lot in other ways. Senility inevitably creeps up on them. Well before that, at a certain point in their lives they are declared legally dead, their possessions transferred to their heirs. Classical mythology features a similar cautionary tale, about a goddess who petitions endless life for her lover but forgets to include endless youth. Even if immortals remained in the prime of perpetual health, would they really want to outlive their mortal loved ones? Boredom with deathless existence appears frequently in vampire stories, leading to suicide by daylight (in the case of those vulnerable to the sun). TIME ENOUGH FOR LOVE starts with Lazarus Long trying to kill himself out of boredom. Endless extension of earthly life as we know it doesn't sound too appealing. Linear survival in "chronos" -- ordinary clock time -- wouldn't be the same as eternal life in "kairos," a richer, multidimensional mode of life.

Margaret L. Carter

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

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware spoilers! 

Of late on the Alien Romances Blog, I've been reviewing "reimagined and unconventional fairytales" written by T. Kingfisher. I came up with this list of her selections, arranged below on the basis of their publication dates: 

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

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 my first take on Kingfisher's loose renderings of fairytales, I reviewed Nettle & Bone, which is basically a subversion of everything that's been done in a fairytale all rolled into one, along with Bryony and Roses and Thornhedge. After that, I reviewed The Seventh Bride by itself. 

In preparation for reading A Sorceress Comes to Call, a 2024 fantasy release focused on "a dark retelling" (which is what it's been described as in reviews and summaries), I refreshed myself on the 1815 German tale "The Goose Girl" published in Grimm's Fairy Tales by the Brothers Grimm. You can find it online free in many different places. 

The crux of that story is that a mother trusts a maid who works for them to ensure her princess daughter gets delivered safely to the prince she'll be marrying. The mother (not apparently a witch?) makes some supernatural preparations to that end--namely, ensuring their magical horse Falada goes along and by giving her daughter a handkerchief that's been enchanted. En route (and long story short), the princess loses her charm (literally, it falls out of her bosom and gets washed down the stream; bye-bye enchantment--it floats out of the story from that point on, out of sight and out of mind) while the maid declares mutiny and forces the princess to swap roles (and clothes) with her so she can pose as the princess. Meanwhile, the real one becomes her maid. This schemer extracts an oath from the princess to prevent her from telling the truth to the royal family she'll be marrying into. The maid anticipates becoming rich and pampered for the rest of her days. It's a brilliant plan, really, until they get to the castle of the bridegroom. The real princess is sent to care for the geese, the horse is promptly beheaded, and the maid is whisked away to prepare for her happily-ever-after. 

Alas, the destiny of royalty can't be hidden or squelched under rags and menial labor…you know, or something. When the princess lets down her golden hair, the boy Conrad she works with is possessed with the desire to snatch a few of the valuable tresses, so she voices an enchantment to make his hat blow away so she has time to brush out and plait her hair each day. Thank goodness for her princess hair, or this tale would have gone seriously wrong! And let's not get into how, if she's like her mom and can conjure enchantments, why not produce one that sets this all aright? 

Anyway, this happens between "The Goose Girl" and Conrad many times. Eventually, he gets sick of weird things happening around her, goes to the king (apparently any Tom, Dick and Harry can approach the king himself for any reason) and says he won't herd geese with her anymore. The king convinces him to continue one more day, and that morning the king watches in stealth. Finding things just as Conrad told him they were with this strange girl, the king summons her and orders her to tell him her story. She says she can't because of the oath the maid dragged out of her. He suggests she go tell the stove then. (Yes, you read that right.) She climbs in, lays her troubles bare to the cast iron, and he hears everything. 

At that point, the king decides to trick the maid into choosing the manner of her own punishment. Hey presto! All gets swapped back to the way they're fated to be. We've all long forgotten the magical elements her mother sent her on her way bearing. So, what was the point of them? Who knows? In any case, I'm sure the prince must not have been swindled into believing the maid was authentic at any point because he sure doesn't seem to mind the new bride that gets traded in while the one he thought he was going to marry ends up dragged naked through the kingdom in a barrel filled with spikes. Summary: I can safely say that T. Kingfisher's version wasn't much darker than the original. 

Okay, so now that you know the basis of "The Goose Girl" story (if for some odd reason you didn't already know it), I'll tell you that A Sorceress Comes to Call is almost nothing like it. To even call it a loose rendition is a stretch. For the life of me, I couldn't twist or finagle Kingfisher's story to fit much of anything within the fairytale it was supposedly based on beyond that, in A Sorceress Comes to Call, there's a magical horse named Falada who eventually becomes headless and there were geese (after a fashion) in the retelling. 

None of this is actually a judgment on Kingfisher's story, nor was there any real sadness in there not being much by way of parallels between these two. I would, however, like to hear it directly from the author why or how the original story inspired her tale. 'Cause I just don't get it. Almost always, Kingfisher includes some illumination about her inspiration for the story in the note she puts at the end of nearly all her books. With this one, she didn't bother to mention it, and this is the one I'm most wanting an explanation for. Sigh. Getting past that (I will eventually), I will say that A Sorceress Comes to Call was just as unique and unexpected as its predecessor. 

Fourteen-year-old Cordelia isn't a princess and her mother is not only a living nightmare but also a dreadful sorceress with a horse-shaped familiar. When their finances run to ground, Evangeline decides to snag a rich squire for herself. In order to do so, she first has to win him with her natural charm, as any magical enchantment enhancements would be broken during the church wedding ceremony (which uses wine, salt, and water) to ensure nothing unholy takes place. What Evangeline hasn't counted on is the Squire's sister Hester, a woman who chose to be a spinster (long story you'll discover in the course of reading this). Hester befriends Cordelia and realizes her mother is far removed from the innocent, sweet woman of misfortune she appears to be--only on the surface. From that point on, Hester becomes determined to save her brother along with this poor, abused daughter of an evil witch. But how to do that? 

I would have liked to know more specifics about Evangeline's origins, though the story does give a basic presumption about what happened to the most powerful sorceresses in that time period and area. Outside of that, the story told was very satisfying, filled with thoroughly engaging characters. Again, Kingfisher's lively prose made for a humorous, suspenseful journey toward solving a most beguiling conundrum about what to do when a sorceress comes to call. 

I'm hoping to get hold of Kingfisher's newest (at the time of this writing in November 2025), Hemlock & Silver, soon for review to complete the circle of fairytale-spun retellings. Don't miss this one. It may not be anything like the origin story, which you might want to peruse before or after, but it's definitely worth a read on its own, considerable merits. 

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/

A Sorceress Comes to Call

A SORCERESS COMES TO CALL, by T. Kingfisher is a full-length novel (over 300 pages) set in a quasi-Regency society and inspired by the fairy tale “The Goose Girl.” Although the book doesn’t follow the plot of the traditional story to any significant extent, they share several elements: The magical and eventually decapitated horse Falada; a heroine and villainess, neither of whom is what she seems, moving into a wealthy household; and geese -- as the LOCUS review puts it, attack geese. The first chapter introduces Cordelia, a fourteen-year-old girl trapped in an appalling situation by her subtly abusive mother. The opening scenes and Cordelia’s despairing reflections make painful reading. Her mother, Evangeline, exercises only one kind of magic so far as we witness, but it’s a terrifyingly powerful one. As punishment or sometimes apparently at random whim, she makes Cordelia “obedient.” In that condition, the girl has no control over any voluntary physical actions except blinking and moving her eyes. Her mother operates her body like a puppet, keeping Cordelia in that condition for hours or occasionally longer. Moreover, Cordelia has no privacy aside from her rides on Falada; her mother doesn’t allow her to close any doors in the house. (Contrary to the book’s blurb, the rooms do have doors.) Evangeline, of course, claims she loves her daughter and inflicts this control for her own good. Cordelia manages to make one friend during her horseback rides, a consolation ruined by the discovery that the friend’s father is Evangeline’s “benefactor.”

After the sudden, violent termination of the “benefactor” relationship, Evangeline captures the interest of a generous country squire, who invites her and her daughter for an extended visit. Evangeline intends to trap him into marriage, but she can’t achieve that goal with magic because certain elements of the wedding ceremony cancel spells. She can, however, use her powers to manipulate him indirectly. She has already demonstrated her ability and willingness to inflict horrible consequences on people who offend her, compelling victims to maim or kill themselves or others. Because everyone who believes in sorcerers at all thinks they’re capable of only weak effects such as illusions, nobody suspects her involvement in those crimes. Thus Cordelia contemplates with helpless terror what her mother might do to the squire and his innocent household. Here’s where one of Kingfisher’s most engaging secondary characters (and that’s saying something) comes in.

The squire’s middle-aged sister, Hester, a goose fancier, takes an instant aversion to Evangeline but at first doesn’t know what to make of Cordelia. When Hester learns the truth about Cordelia’s plight and her mother’s evil, the aging spinster recruits a former suiter who’s still a dear friend, plus her closest female friends, each with their own entertaining quirks, to combat the sorceress. It's a pleasure to see an older, single, rather ordinary woman playing a major role in a fantasy novel. In addition to fascinating character interaction and development, the story features library research into arcane lore, scintillating dialogue, desperate confrontations, and moments of bone-chilling horror. Codelia grows into an independent person and discovers her own hidden strength. After narrow escapes, dark moments, and twists designed to surprise even the most genre-savvy fans, the good guys attain a well-deserved victory. A satisfying experience for devotees of T. Kingfisher’s fantasy and horror as well as a worthy stand-alone introduction to her work for new readers.

Margaret L. Carter

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

Not The Worst Investment

The worst investment that I ever made was to invest $5,000 to buy shares directly from the owner of the first publishing "house" that published a version of "Forced Mate". I received a share certificate, but the publishing house "went under". My loss was 100%.

On the upside, I met some wonderful friends who went on to great success with other houses, and who gave me fantastic advice, but they would have done that without my investment in the company.

This is not about those great ladies, or that instructive experience. This is about my brother and sister authors who make money from writing (no matter how little or how much) and about Individual Retirement Accounts.

If you earn, you can set up an IRA. Disclaimer, I am not a qualified financial advisor.... and I did not stay at a motel chain last night.

If you have an IRA, be it Roth or Rollover, you can day trade in volatile markets and not pay capital gains taxes. You can buy a stock in the pre-market on a down day, sell it later that day if it pops, buy it back when it drops, rinse and repeat, and you will pay no tax.

In my opinion, in an IRA, you should do the reverse standard behavior, which is to let winners "ride". Let losers ride because you cannot harvest losses to offset gains. With gainers, take profits. 

For security of your IRA, use a unique name instead of your email address, and do not use that name on any other accounts. Ditto, use a unique password that you do not use anywhere else. Your password might be a "pass phrase" or "pass sentence", such as "Daily, I eat garlic...NOT" with a few substitutions of numerals for vowels. 

A highly creative and mischievous friend of mine once wanted to get around a particular State's ban on the use of coarse words on vanity license plates. She secured IVn1k8or.  

IV is the Roman numeral for 4. Knowing that you can figure out the derogatory noun. Please do not enter the correct answer as a Comment.

George Bernard Shaw did something similar with the word "fish". He said it could be spelled gh-oe-ti.

The "gh" sounds like "f" as in "cough".

"Oe" as in Oedipus sounds like "I".

"ti" has a "shhh" sound as in the middle of "ambitious".

Back to being secure....

Refuse to agree to set up your voice as authentication. Some brokerage houses will try to force that on you, and it is a very stupid policy now that a criminal only needs a couple of seconds of your recorded voice to create deep fake sentences using AI.

Do not "save" or "remember" that ID and password on any application or on your browser or device regardless of convenience.

All the best,

Rowena Cherry

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: The Complete Adventures of the Borrowers by Mary Norton by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review of The Complete Adventures of the Borrowers

by Mary Norton

by Karen S. Wiesner 

   Be aware that there may be spoilers in this review. 

One of my first forays into fantasy literature was Mary Norton's timeless adventure series about a family of little people living in the walls and floor of an English home. These little beings are called Borrowers because they borrow from the human "beans" who live in the house--borrow in the sense that they never give any of these things back, of course! Even their names were apparently borrowed from human objects. The series had five installments including The Borrowers (1952 but 1953 for the US version), The Borrowers Afield (1955), The Borrowers Afloat (1959), The Borrowers Aloft (1961), and The Borrowers Avenged (1982). 

The saga follows the Clock family (consisting of father and mother, Pod and Homily, and their teenage daughter, Arrietty). Their original home was based on the place the author was herself raised, namely The Cedars. Arrietty is fascinated by "Big People" and gets into all sorts of trouble because of it. In the first book, she befriends "the Boy", who eventually delivers a letter to other Borrowers, Arrietty's aunt, uncle, and children who she's heard "emigrated". The Boy gives them dollhouse furniture and other useful things, but the household cook Mrs. Driver and the gardener Crampfurl become suspicious. Forced to flee, the family ends up living in an old boot, and the mysterious, wild Borrower boy Spiller, who's around Arrietty's age, brings them food. Each subsequent installment has the Borrowers trying to find a permanent place to call home, away from those who want to make their existence known to the world (for profit). Beyond being titled alliteratively and even alphabetically, interestingly, with Books 2-5, all the stories are named for what happens at the very end of each title. Specifically, at the end of Book 1, the Borrower family finds themselves "afield"; at the end of 2, they're "afloat"; at the end of 3, they're "aloft"; and at the end of 5, they're at last "avenged".   

The characters and plots are winsome, compelling, and chock-full of old-fashioned fun. While the specified reading age is 8-12, why deny yourself the pleasure of such a magical story filled with the journeys of tiny creatures most of us hoped really existed when we were young?  In 1983, a 700-page omnibus including all five stories was published at a very reasonable price. Included with it was a novelette called Poor Stainless--A New Story About the Borrowers, which was written in 1966 and published posthumously. This was apparently a story Homily told Arrietty, no doubt to scare her into submission. In it, Stainless, a Borrower, got lost. I suspect the plucky, adventurous Arrietty went forth unmoved and unimpeded after hearing it. Despite being written in the 50s, Arrietty was a female empowered! She seemed to realize she might be the last Borrower and couldn't and wouldn't be held back by outdated beliefs that women were the weaker sex. Survival is no respecter of short-sighted and erroneous labels.

As I said, this was my first taste of fantasy novels growing up. Though generally my own family went home (our permanent residence in Wisconsin) before school started each year,  after a summer spent in whatever place my dad was working temporarily, this particular year my brother, sister, and I actually started school in the state we were in (South Dakota that time, I believe). I read the first three Borrowers' installments as school library books while there, but I was only a little more than half through the fourth story when we had to go home. I sought out the book after that, hoping to finish it, but I never quite got back into the series, though I know the gist of how it ended (the title specifically told me they'd be "afloat" and Pod had been working on the hot-air balloon within the story). Until recently, I've never finished Book 4 nor read the final series book that came out much, much later than the others (30 years! As an author myself, that's simply beyond imagining!), nor the novelette. I purchased the boxed set, which had the Stainless short, though the original "short author's note" wasn't included with it. As this series holds a ton of nostalgia for me, in 2026, I did at long last finish Book 4, the novelette, and Book 5, which introduced at least one new Borrower and ended on a satisfying happily ever after for this ingenious little family. 

You might be interested to know that many movies and TV series have been launched with roots that go back to Norton's classic Borrowers Series, as well as a similar series called The Littles, first published in 1967, written by John Peterson, about little people with mouse-like features (tail included) that live in a house with a family called Bigg. As you'll probably guess, I also read that when I was much younger, and enjoyed it, although it's always been The Borrowers that held my heart. Give it a try. I can't imagine you won't be glad you did.

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

Find out more about her books and see her art here: http://www.facebook.com/KarenWiesnerAuthor

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

Thoughts on Astrophage

Although I haven't read Andy Weir's PROJECT HAIL MARY or watched the movie, I was intrigued by an article about it in the May-June 2026 issue of SKEPTICAL INQUIRER. The antagonist in this story, the Astrophage, is a species of algae that feeds on the energy of stars, ultimately making any planets orbiting them uninhabitable. The article explores whether any real-life extremophile organisms can do what this microbe does.

One analogous ability of an actual earthly life form: A bacterium called Deinococcus radiodurans can withstand ionizing radiation beyond what it would encounter in interstellar space, with a cell wall that shields against radiation and the ability to repair damaged DNA by having multiple copies of its genome.

What about the heat of the sun or other stars? The most heat-resistant terrestrial microbe, Methanopyrus kandleri, can survive extreme temperatures up to 251 degrees F. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be able to survive sun-level heat.

Another ability of Astrophage unavailable to earthly organisms: It can travel through space at "ridiculous speeds using a specific wavelength of infrared light." No real-world microbe can do that.

What about changing a planet's climate to make it unlivable? Two and a half billion years ago, cyanobacteria transformed Earth's atmosphere to an oxygen environment, good for us but lethal to some previously existing life forms. Today, greenhouse gases such as methane and nitrous oxide "are primarily microbial in origin."

So we find that "tiny things" far too small for us to perceive without special instruments "can have mighty impacts on an entire planet." As the article's conclusion admonishes, we big creatures should remain mindful of the mighty impacts we can have.

Margaret L. Carter

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

The Write Stuff

In the Anthropic lawsuit, the court ruled only on the use of written works taken from pirate sites. It seems that, if authors fail or neglect to expressly reserve all rights to use their works for training AI, then such uses are Fair Use.

Now, along comes the Authors Guild with some suggested wording for authors to insert into their publishing contracts.

Authors Guild recommends that AI is not --not-- used for editing, translating, audiobook narrating etc, and that rights are withheld for derivative use of authors' biographies and private, personal information.

https://authorsguild.org/advocacy/artificial-intelligence/ai-model-clauses/

All the best,

Rowena Cherry 

SPACE SNARK™ 

https://www.spacesnark.com/  

https://www.rowenacherry.com

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review "The Ice Dragon" by George R. R. Martin by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review

"The Ice Dragon" by George R. R. Martin

by Karen S. Wiesner

  Beware potential spoilers! 

Latter editions of George R. R. Martin's "The Ice Dragon" saw it becoming a children's fantasy novella (120 pages) geared toward 7 to 12 year olds. However, I don't believe it was originally intended to be for kids. First published in 1980 in the Dragons of Light anthology, it was also included in Martin's 1987 collection Portraits of His Children. 2007 saw the story reworked, complete with new illustrations, and then again in 2014. 

The children's version was the third audiobook I'd listened to on my library's Libby app. The reading was very short and, unfortunately, I didn't have access to any of the illustrations that probably made the story even more compelling. Adara is a strange young girl, a child of winter, with an appearance that sounds distinctly like the Cold Others in A Song of Ice and Fire--pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes--who befriends an ice dragon. Martin says that this story wasn't originally set in the same world as A Song of Ice and Fire since that setting didn't exist when he wrote it…which doesn't necessarily discount it from being. However, the newest edition of the children's story may have been tailored a bit more than earlier renditions toward his most popular series' setting. In the fifth book of that series, A Dance With Dragons, while Jon Snow descends the Wall, he thinks of an ice dragon in the sentence: "The wind was gusting, cold as the breath of the ice dragon in the tales Old Nan had told when Jon was a boy." I'd love to believe this story was set in that world, whether or not it actually was. By the way, if you're interested in the origins of Martin's Westeros, visit https://bookanalysis.com/game-of-thrones/first-men/, where you're sure to find something compelling you probably didn't already know. 

At the time of the opening in this story, no dragons have been tamed by humans. Adara is the first and, when fiery dragons attack her family's farm, she must call upon her ice dragon and all her courage to save them. 

More than six months after listening to the audiobook version, I read this story for myself within the author's Dreamsongs, Volume I anthology and enjoyed it immensely there (although I didn't really connect with more than a couple of other stories within that collection--sorry to say!). As I said at the beginning of this review, I don't believe this early version of "The Ice Dragon" was intended for children, considering that it was fairly graphic in certain places, though I'm convinced it was presented in this particular anthology the way it was intended to be before being reworked and repurposed so often. Whether you're a child or an adult, if you like dragons, I advise you not to miss this one. 

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/

RavenCon 2026

This past weekend, my husband and I attended RavenCon, held in Richmond, Virginia. The hotel comprises a complex of three buildings in a lovely setting, which is slightly inconvenient when the weather is atypically chilly for April, as it was this time. Also, it rained off and on, but I brought an umbrella. They had nice buffets for all breakfasts and two dinners. On Friday, though, the only food venue for dinner was the bar, same as last year. Fortunately, at least this time we didn't have to sit for almost an hour waiting to get fed.

My husband appeared on four panels, I on three. First I had horror and the supernatural in ancient literature, in practice meaning Greek, Roman, and Norse with a bit of Celtic. The moderator and both panelists had more in-depth knowledge of the field than I do, but I managed to find enough to say, seldom a problem for me anyhow :). My Saturday panels were on cozy fantasy, very well attended and lively, and vampires, my specialty. The former discussion focused largely on trying to decide precisely how to define the emergent subgenre -- what do we mean by "cozy"? The vampire session ranged widely over folklore and fiction, past and recent, print and film media.

Of my husband's panels, the ones that interested me most were "The Ethics of Colonizing Other Worlds" and "Intergalactic Villainy" (should probably be "interstellar," sigh), about science-fiction villains and antagonists, specifically in stories set in space. The latter spent much more time on film media than novels. It considered, among other questions, what makes a character a villain and why villains fascinate us.

I didn't get to watch the costume contest because it occurred opposite my vampire panel. However, I did get a look at the participants as they were lining up.

Some sessions I particularly enjoyed: Two panels on research, "Down the Rabbit Hole" and "But I've Never Ridden a Horse." Monstrous insects in SF and horror films. Writing in other authors' worlds. The role of history in fantasy and science fiction. A slide show on dangerous plants and fungi with some discussion of that theme in fiction and film.

It was dismaying to learn they're shifting the date of future RavenCons from late April (which I like because of the weather, which is normally much nicer than this year) to late October, with a greater chance of chilly days. Of course, we'll still attend.

You can read all about the convention here:

RavenCon

Margaret L. Carter

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

Lilacs in May Art and Poem for the Passing of Our Mother by Karen Wiesner and Linda Derkez

@Lilacs Sketch Rendered in Coloring Pencil by Karen Wiesner

In honor of our beloved mother's passing on April 19, 2026

 

Lilacs in May

by Linda Derkez

 

Time has passed since I wrote this song.

The sun has set, and we didn’t have very long.

Days slipped away, and all that we can hold are the words we say.

I’ll say them to you still.

 

And I say that I love you.

And I know that you love me, too.

 

My world was filled with the love of my mother.

We held each other close, but she faded in the night.

I’ll carry her light, and all the love we’ve shared surely turns to gold.

It’s all we have left to hold.

 

And I wish you could have stayed another day

to smell the lilacs in May.

And I wish I could hold off all these tears

until many years from now.

 

I wish we could have taken away your pain

as we watched you fade away.

I tried to say

all I wanted to say

as the pages of our lives turn to the end.

Don’t want a day to begin without you.

We’ll be lost and lonely, too.

 

We love you, we love you.

Goodbye, goodbye.

We love you, we love you.

Goodbye, goodbye.

Cozy Fantasy: The Faraway Inn

This weekend at RavenCon, I'll appear on three panels, one on the topic of cozy fantasy. Here are two of the several definitions I found online:

“Cozy or light fantasy doesn’t have a formal definition. It’s best described as a sub-genre that offers audiences fantasy elements with a low-stakes plot in a magical or high-fantasy setting. Think of it this way: It’s like taking realistic descriptions of your everyday life and adding a fantasy flourish. So, imagine you’re enjoying a latte with a friend, but instead of a local Starbucks you’re having teatime with dragons and your barista is a retired Orc warrior. The plots of these narratives also often focus on character relationships or community.” -- from Activision

“Cozy fantasy is a subgenre of fantasy emphasizing low-stakes, heartwarming stories focused on community, comfort, and everyday life rather than world-ending conflict. It often features 'slice-of-life' themes, found families, and comforting settings like cafes or small towns, providing a calming, 'warm hug' reading experience with guaranteed happy endings.” -- from Reddit

I disagree with the term "low stakes," often found in other definitions or analyses as well. I would instead label this feature of the subgenre "limited scope stakes," although that sounds more awkward. The stakes at issue can be quite "high" for the protagonist, but they're personal or local, not national, global, or cosmic. The hero or (more often, it seems) heroine doesn't save the world or some large region thereof. Granted, in Sarah Beth Durst's THE SPELLSHOP and THE ENCHANTED GREENHOUSE a catastrophic political upheaval dominates the background, but the heroines don't play any role in sparking or ending it. The regional conflict stays in the background, with their own personal troubles -- which are pretty serious, not "low stakes" for them -- driving the plot. Along the same line, I find the occasional claim that cozy fantasy is "lighthearted" inapplicable in most cases. Yes, these books often include humor, but they don't tend to be comedies (except in the classical sense of ending happily).

Sarah Beth Durst has just released another delightful cozy fantasy, but this one, THE FARAWAY INN, has no relation to the two mentioned above (which I reviewed here on July 31, 2025). Like them, though, it features typical subgenre elements such as a "cozy" magical location, quirky nonhuman creatures, and the "found family" theme. While they’re adult novels set in a secondary world, THE FARAWAY INN is a YA contemporary fantasy. Calisa, the sixteen-year-old protagonist, hadn’t planned to leave her urban home and spend most of the summer before her senior year in “a place with a truly excessive number of trees.” After she catches her boyfriend cheating on her, though, Calisa accepts her mother’s suggestion to visit her great-aunt’s Faraway Inn in the wilds of Vermont. The bed-and-breakfast doesn’t match Calisa’s vague memories of childhood visits. The place turns out to be rundown and mostly empty. Furthermore, Auntie Zee doesn’t want help and only grudgingly agrees to a three-day trial period. Calisa throws herself into cleaning, cooking, and weed-clearing in hopes of being allowed to stay longer. The change of scenery and chance to make herself useful eventually grant her the perspective to realize she’s better off without her two-timing boyfriend. Getting to know Jack, the caretaker’s attractive, helpful, charmingly awkward teenage son, doesn’t hurt.

The strangeness of the inn begins to reveal itself almost at once. Auntie Zee imposes two strict rules: Don’t ask questions, and don’t open doors without permission. Naturally, Calisa often finds herself breaking those prohibitions. Random doors sometimes lead to portals into other worlds. A statue seems to move when her back is turned. One guest keeps a gargoyle in his room. Another, a woman, has green skin and an affinity for plants. There’s also a miniature dragon hanging around the house. When additional regulars, each decidedly peculiar to some extent, show up expecting the usual level of service, they’re justifiably dubious of Calisa’s ability to measure up to Auntie Zee’s standards. Moreover, Jack confides in Calisa that his father disappeared several years earlier. No wonder the place is falling apart. Although with plenty of surprises and twists along the way, the story concludes as the genre-savvy reader would expect. Jack and Calisa track down his father; Auntie Zee admits she needs help and accepts Calisa as the one to provide it; Calisa matures while reassessing her personal situation. She strikes me as a sympathetic character, a believable teenager with the typical anxieties, yet not at all whiny or otherwise annoying. Jack is also strong and likable. It’s fun to meet the variety of not-quite-human guests and watch Calisa solve the challenges presented by a magical family business. Also, I can’t neglect to mention the physical allure of this trade paperback. It has the most elaborate, beautifully colored edge drawing (artwork on the edges of the pages, visible when the book is closed) I’ve ever seen.

Next week I'll report on the highlights of RavenCon.

Margaret L. Carter

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