The Importance of Story

Heroes, heroism, and what all that entails, is a fairly common theme on this blog. It wasn't until I read through Diana Wynne Jones' essay collection, followed by The Wand in the Word, that I started to understand some of my impulses that drive me to contemplate such ideas, and to search for ways to bring them into my stories without even realizing it.

We as a society, especially here in America, are in desperate need of heroes. Not even real-life heroes, though those are (obviously) important, but heroes of mythical stature, for us to look up to and emulate without even knowing it. America is a funny land: we have absorbed so many cultures to make up this beautiful, multi-facted nation, and yet we haven't embraced any of their myths - nor do most of us embrace the mythos of the Native Americans, which is beautiful and rich and deep.

Instead of myths and legends reaching back into a shadowy past, showing us heroes and heroines and quests and striving for a goal more noble, we have generations of Americans raised on Disney princesses and Power Rangers as children, vampires and dystopias as teenagers, gossip magazines and reality television as young adults. Not all of those things are bad - but they aren't anything close to enough.

We have no King Arthur, no rich carpet of legend rolling out beneath our feet, for us to tread upon and absorb without even knowing it. The closest thing we have in this country to a cultural mythos are comic book heroes, and while those have their own value, they don't have the weight of age behind them.

That's not something I can change. I don't have a TARDIS, I can't pop back in time to create another Beowulf.

But I, personally, have a strong sense of the importance of heroes. As a kid, I fought imaginary dragons in my back yard. I believed in standing up for the underdog, even in my kindergarten class, wearing a pretty dress with my hair in two long braids, not letting anyone bully Thomas because he didn't fit in. How did that happen (aside from my parents' teaching)?

The books I read, the Stories I learned. What books did I grow up reading? Books by Lloyd Alexander, Susan Cooper, CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien, Brian Jacques, Edward Eager, E Nesbit, L Frank Baum ...

People say fantasy doesn't matter? That fantasy books aren't Real Books?

It is fantasy, myth, legend, the hero seeking to save others, the beauty of the quest through danger to achieve salvation, that will rescue this world from falling into utter darkness.

In the end, fantasy books are the most Real Books out there. They just might be the most important books you will ever read.

They are certainly the most important books I will ever write.

Happy Birthday, Bard of Prydain (and beyond)

Today is Lloyd Alexander's 89th birthday. Of course I had to write a tribute.

There aren't enough words, especially in a blog post, to give the proper idea of the influence this man has had on me. My writing, for one, but in my life as well. His characters, his stories, and more important, the ideas behind his stories, the hidden and subtle threads that wove their way through every tale he told, have all conspired together to shape my world view and my personality.

His own character as well has been an inspiration to me. Everything I read about him indicates he was a kind man, with great humility and a marvelous sense of humor, someone who never lost his sense of wonder at the magic that exists in the world all around us, for those with eyes to see it.

He is one of those giants upon whose shoulders I attempt to stand. I am ever thankful for him.

I wrote, a few years back, a little story set in a post The High King Prydain. I skipped the entire dilemma of "how did Taran and Eilonwy put the kingdom back together?" by focusing on their children, in a settled kingdom that had accepted the departure of the Sons of Don long ago (cheating! I know!). It's not the most perfect story I've ever written, but I am fond of it for the message it conveys. It is, in a small way, part of my tribute to the lessons I've learned from Lloyd. If such thing interest you, feel free to read it!

Thank you, Lloyd, for the gifts you scattered on the earth during your lifetime. May your legacy grow ever greater as the years pass.

source: http://us.macmillan.com/author/lloydalexander

Going Back

With finishing my short stories (all spy- or detective-related), I decided to take a break from all the mysteries I've been reading lately and go back to my roots. This was partially inspired by the fact that I'm getting to loathe all fictional private detectives (except Sherlock Holmes, DUH), and partially because, to my surprise, some of my critique partners rattled off a few different writers whose style they could see had influenced me -

And not one of them was Lloyd Alexander.

Which quite frankly flabbergasted me, because for many years my writing style read like a composite of Lloyd Alexander and Brian Jacques, and Jacques only because he was so prolific that he infused my writing without me ever realizing it.

If there is one author I would aspire to write like, it's Lloyd. So I'm picking up some of his books again and reminding myself of just what it is in his writing that I love so well, and make sure that I haven't lost that in my own writing - not that I want to write in his voice entirely, of course, but that the same spirit breathes in my writing that lives in his.

I'm reading Westmark right now, which is the start of one of his less-popular series, but one that I love dearly. Then I'll probably go on to the Vesper Holly books, for their sheer outrageous fun (oh how I love Brinnie; as a kid I wanted to identify most with Vesper, as an adult I have utter sympathy for Brinnie), and then we'll see from there.

He breaks so many of the "rules" of writing, and yet his genius is such that it works. That doesn't mean I'm going to go about breaking rules willy-nilly, but it does help me remember to hold them loosely, and if I have to choose between the story and the rules, GO WITH THE STORY.

It feels like visiting old friends, going back to Westmark and thinking about Vesper &co. I'm actually glad for an excuse to go back there, preferably with a cup of tea by my side.

Mmm ... anyone else remember when the weather was cool enough to want wrist warmers? Yeah, me neither.

(Mind, I'm not complaining about any of the writers that were mentioned as being obvious influences on my writing; they are all brilliant writers and have influences me in one way or another, but since Lloyd is the BIGGEST influence on me, I was just surprised that he didn't make the list.)

Lists, Part the First

Things I have learned this past week, a list in ten parts:

1. Sleeping in my house all by myself is way less scary than sleeping in my house with just me and my kids (which is amusing, because my husband is such a heavy sleeper he would never hear the mass murderer break in or the alien overlord attempt to kidnap us)
2. Scones made with goat cheese and rosemary are some of the finest food ever invented
3. Homemade chocolate syrup is both easy and better for you than store-bought (although I would recommend using a medium saucepan instead of small, unless you LIKE having boiling chocolate sauce overflow and spill all over your burner and stovetop)
4. Sometimes it's good to splurge a little on yourself
5. Strawberries you pick yourself taste so, so much better than ones in the store (I already knew this, but I learn it anew every summer)
6. Save the Bookstore is an AWESOME excuse to buy books
7. One should always carry a packed suitcase in one's trunk in case one suddenly runs into the Doctor and is whisked off on an adventure in the TARDIS
8. I am getting much better at recognizing warning signs of depression than I used to be
9. Depression (for me) can be staved off with good books, good music (especially piano music), sunshine, friendship, and wordless prayer
10. Elmo's World will never, ever stop annoying me

And finally, not a list item, but just to get the word out - there is what looks to be a fantastic documentary on Lloyd Alexander in the works right now, provided they raise enough support before July 1. Check it out and consider donating to be part of this project?

Hope your weekend is filled with sunshine, strawberries, friendship, and books!

The Journey is the Treasure

Five years ago today, Lloyd Alexander died.

I was visiting my parents at the time (I don't remember why). I was checking my email on Mom's computer when I saw the news.

I was devastated. Numb. I just sat there in Mom's chair and stared at the computer screen. It didn't seem possible. I spent much of that day in a daze, trying to come to grips with it. Thankfully, my parents understood completely - Mom even told me that she'd felt much the same when Agatha Christie died, that same sense of losing a close friend, even though it was a person she'd never met.

But that was the thing with Lloyd: he was a friend to every one of his readers. He didn't just create some of my favorite heroes and heroines; he was a hero, himself, to me, simply for his honesty, his humor, and his love for adventure.

I've written before about the tremendous influence Lloyd has been, both on my writing and on the way I try to live my life. On my very approach to life, really. His writing is wonderful for children, who are still trying to figure out the world and where they fit in it. It's just as wonderful for adults who need to remember the deep joy and magic that can be found simply in the grand adventure of life itself (that sentence sounds pompous. Don't worry, Lloyd's books are never pompous). His heroes smash every popular idea of what heroism is all about, and they do it while still remaining joyous and real. Just look at some of the quotes from the Prydain Chronicles:

“In some cases,” he said, “we learn more by looking for the answer to a question and not finding it than we do from learning the answer itself." 

“There is much to be known,” said Adaon, “and above all much to be loved, be it the turn of the seasons or the shape of a river pebble. Indeed, the more we find to love, the more we add to the measure of our hearts.”

 "Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty, too."

"This much have I learned: A man’s life weighs more than glory, and a price paid in blood is a heavy reckoning." 

And this, my favorite: 

"I have learned there is greater honor in a field well plowed than in a field steeped in blood." (Oh, Adaon!)

If someday I can write books that bring half as much joy and inspiration to people as he did, I will consider my life well lived. When I heard that today was being informally dubbed Lloyd Alexander Day, I knew I had to participate. How could I not join in honoring the man who has had the greatest hand in shaping the type of writer I am, the type of stories I love, the type of hero I want to be?


I have written a few stories posted on ff.net in the Lloyd Alexander section. If you've read all of his own works and are looking for something more, I humbly offer my own attempts. Amaranth is based on The Arkadians; Night Phantoms is a surprisingly (at least, it was a surprise to me) melancholy glimpse into King Smoit's character; Magic of the Heart looks at what life in Prydain might have been life for the generation after the events of The High King, as seen through the eyes of Taran's youngest daughter.


If you're interested in more Lloyd Alexander fanfic, do check out any of the writers in that section of ff.net; I especially recommend anything by Companion Wanderer and Adaon45.


Above all, read something Lloyd himself wrote! And then go plant some turnips in honor of Coll.


And I leave you with some others of my favorite quotes from Lloyd ...

“All that writers can do is keep trying to say what is deepest in their hearts. ” 

“I intend to follow the path of virtue. It will not be overcrowded.” 

“You have a point," said Fronto, "and even a poet must occasionally bow to logic.” 

 "You're showing mercy." Catch-a-Tick nodded. "That's heroic, too. But not as good as smiting.” 

“If a storyteller worried about the facts - my dear Lucian, how could he ever get at the truth?” 

“The journey is the treasure.” 

Battling the Blues

I've been feeling pretty discouraged lately. Some of it, odd as it sounds, is the weird weather. It's December; it's supposed to be snowing and cold, not spurts of warm-ish and cold-ish weather, with no snow but lots of rain. We live in upstate NY!

Then there's just been a lot of example lately, right in my face, some involving me in the middle of controversies I really wanted nothing to do with, of people's selfishness and unkindness. Yech.

And it doesn't help that we are trying not to be anxious as we wait to hear back from Carl's interview two weeks ago, to find out if we'll be moving halfway across the country in a couple of months or not.

So to combat this discouragement, I've been trying to focus on the good. Thinking about the people who helped to bring resolution to the above-mentioned controversy. Smiling at friends who have sent me notes or videos of encouragement on Twitter after I mention my discouragement. Making popcorn before noon for my littles, just because. Scheduling an appointment to get my hair CHOPPED OFF this weekend, just because I've been wanting to go short again for a while.

And trying to figure out good books to read to help fight feelings that the human race is made up of jerks.

A Ring of Endless Light, by Madeline L'Engle, is top of that list. Unfortunately, I don't own it, and can't order it in e-book form, so I can't read that until I get out to the library again.

Anne of Green Gables is always, always on that list, as are any of the books in that series, especially the first three. Wives & Daughters, by Elizabeth Gaskell, is one that always makes me smile. Emily of Deep Valley, by Maud Hart Lovelace, is a story I deeply love for its exploration of a girl whose dreams are thwarted by circumstance, and yet finds ways to shape those very circumstances to develop those dreams even better - AND it dares to have her fall in love with someone who is NOT her initial love interest at the beginning of the story. Shocking!

And I might re-read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, just because I love it so. Same with Lloyd Alexander's The Arkadians, or any of his books that I own.

And then there's Gaudy Night or Busman's Honeymoon, or any story featuring my beloved Lord Peter.

Wow, just listing these books off is making me feel better and more hopeful.

What are the books you turn to in order stave off discouragement and remind you of the joy and hope that does exist in this world, and in people?

Libraries and Death Traps

Thank you all, again, for your kind words on my last post. You brought a lump to my throat more than once.

We're still at my parents' until Tuesday morning; Grandma's memorial service is Monday. We're looking forward to having much of the clan gathered together for it. Even though funerals are sad, we always manage to have something of a good time just because we're together. Some of the aunts and uncles have only met my littles once or twice, so I'm happy (and slightly nervous) to introduce my small people to the larger family.

We also had Joy's fourth birthday party today; I can't wait to put pictures up on here from it. It was a woodland butterfly fairy tea party (originally, it was going to be a bird and flower and butterfly theme, but it evolved. These things happen), and even the three men involved (my husband, father, and brother-in-law) wore butterfly wings. O yes, they did. They all love Joy very much. They are also all very secure in their masculinity.

And my sister and I made sure to get them blue wings. Pink might have been carrying things a little too far.

And for a first, Joy only got one book for her birthday (and that from Carl and me). Usually books make up the bulk of her gifts. I'm sure she will get more once she receives her package from Carl's aunt, a librarian in Maine. She always sends lots of book for birthdays and holidays. We are always very happy to see presents from G-Auntie.

This is the book we got for Joy:

No, wait. Wrong one. This one:

thanks to a recommendation from Rockin Librarian (thank you!). I'm excited to see what stories Joy concocts from the illustrations.

Meanwhile, my mom, sister and I are all sick (watching the two of them trying to tack up sheets and white lights while simultaneously hacking and blowing their noses would have been funny if I weren't trying to slice vegetables without sneezing into them), and I am starting to go a little bit crazy from not writing at all in the last week plus - not since coming up here last Thursday. Family is more important, hands down, no questions asked and no regrets ... but writing is such a part of me that I'm starting to feel starved for it.

And my characters are starting to haunt my dreams. Plus last night I dreamed that I had to scale a rickety ladder and swing from a rope to get into a library's second story, not to mention crawling along the outside of the roof and breaking through a window (and was I ever pissed when I got inside and saw an escalator that led to main lobby, and I realized the librarian at the desk had sent me up the death trap way for, apparently, a lark, and then the escalators shut down because the library closed and I had to come down the same way and I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO CHECK OUT MY BOOKS), which I think is indication that my subconscious is telling me to not neglect books so much.

Or, you know, it could have been the rum in the tea last night. Whatever.

(Almost worse than the horrific ladder (I have a good head for heights, but I have always always hated ladders, and swinging from a frail rope to try to reach a roof window is not my idea of fun) was that I had found a brand-new, just-discovered Lloyd Alexander book in the children section (downstairs) and when I didn't get to check my books out, I had to leave it behind. LLOYD ALEXANDER, newly-discovered book!)

I am working on the MG rewrite, but of today, Maia of the 1920s fantasy-adventure has been chatting to me, reminding me, impatiently, that I left her in Grave Danger and she needs a chance to Prove Her Worth. She is most definitely not a helpless heroine, and she doesn't like being left a victim without a chance to take on the villain herself. So I think I need to get back to her soon. She gets very crabby when left alone for too long.

And now if you'll excuse me, I have some rum-and-tea and a box of tissues calling my name.

And some pictures of three men in butterfly wings to upload onto my computer.

Why Fantasy?

This is a reasonable question, yet one I've never really asked myself before. Why, out of all the genres out there, is it fantasy, most specifically YA fantasy, that appeals to me the most?

My bookshelves are so full that I have to stack books on top of books, and some of the books that I don't want to get rid of but rarely read (ahem *Star Wars novels*) are packed away. I'd plead for more shelf space, but Carl has hogged it all already.

On my shelves, I have a smattering of classical literature - mostly Austen, Gaskell, Dickens, and Shakespeare. I have some of the Russians - Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky - but I've never made it all the way through one of their novels. The problem is I keep picking them up when I'm either pregnant or just had a baby, and I'm already prone to depression ... not a good time to read the Russians, I have found.

There's my history books covering two shelves, the books that I gleefully claim I need for research, but really just get because history of all kinds fascinates me. Then there's my children's lit - LM Montgomery, Maud Hart Lovelace, Elizabeth Enright, Louisa May Alcott, etc.

Agatha Christie gets one entire shelf to herself (she was a Very Prolific Author), and Dorothy Sayers, Margery Allingham, Josephine Tey, and Dorothy Gilman cover the next (none of them, alas, were as prolific as I would have liked). I do enjoy a good mystery, especially one that's not too gruesome. And if you've been reading this blog for any period of time at all you know I have an illicit love affair going on with Lord Peter.

The rest of my shelves are all fantasy, and mostly YA or MG. From Narnia to Middle Earth to Prydain to E Nesbit's England to Mossflower to Ancelstierre and the Old Kingdom to the Enchanted Forest and covering a whole lot more in between.

So why? What is it about fantasy that draws me so, that makes want to read it more than anything else? What is it that makes it my default for writing? Even trying to write a simple adventure story set in 1920s England turned into an alternate history type fantasy (really have to get back to that as soon as I'm done with the rough draft of Cadi's story - Maia does not take kindly to being set aside for a time).

I never got all that into the traditional sword-and-sorcery fantasy. I've read some of those sorts of books and enjoyed them, but not for writing, and I usually only borrow them from the library instead of buying them for my very own. And I'm definitely not big into paranormal or urban fantasy. I have yet to read the book-whose-title-is-synonymous-with-dusk, and vampires etc just don't really interest me terribly. Unless that vampire is Angel. Duh. Again, I have read some urban fantasy and enjoyed it, but not to the point where I ever want to buy any of the books.

So what is it about certain types of fantasy that draws me the most?

This might be an unfair post, because I don't really have an answer yet. I think it's important to ponder, though, and I suspect it boils down to something along the lines of a Lloyd Alexander quote I love:

Fantasy is hardly a way of escaping reality; it's a way of understanding it.

I think that for me, fantasy has helped me understand this "real world" better, while also allowing me to accept things which we cannot see or understand. I do still believe in fairies, you see, and that belief has helped to shape me into a better person.

And if I can be an ambassador of a magical realm to this one, then that is a task I am proud and yet oddly humbled to accept.

What are your favorite genres to read or write, and why? Do you believe that fantasy does help us to understand reality better? Do you - as Peter Pan might demand - still believe in fairies?

Influences: Lloyd Alexander

I've been thinking about doing a series of posts on authors/books/series that have influenced my writing the most over the years ... those are the sorts of series I always enjoy reading from other people, seeing what has gone into forming their writing style. And sometimes it helps me discover authors or books I otherwise might never have known!

So, to begin: I considered doing, for this first post, something on the first writer who influenced me, but instead I decided to look at the writer who has been the biggest influence on me, my writing and my life. That writer is ...

Lloyd Alexander.

I can't remember, exactly, which of Alexander's books I read first. It was either a Vesper Holly or The Wizard in the Tree. Whichever it was, I was immediately hooked. I read voraciously through all of his works in our local library. The Westmark trilogy, though I know many people don't care for it, was the one that affected me the most, however. The very fact that there was no magic in it, that though a fantasy it was very real, and very grim, brought it much closer. Theo's struggles with morality, especially in Kestrel; Mickle's journey to finding herself and her place; Sparrow and Weasel and Keller ... I don't think I'd ever read something that touched me quite so deeply. (Oddly enough, I found myself mostly unaffected by Florian and his children.)

Alexander is best known for his Prydain Chronicles. I only started reading those after I'd already read most of his other books. Not by design - simply because our library didn't have all of them, and I hate only reading partial series. It wasn't until I started visiting a different library, which had the entire series, that I read them and fell in love with the Assistant Pig-Keeper and opinionated Princess Eilonwy.

For my own writing, Alexander's use of humor, and his ability to tell a full and rich story with only a few well-chosen details, have been what I have studied the most closely, and tried to incorporate into my own works.

As a human being, the ideas he portrays about heroism, sacrifice, love, and life have been what I have tried to incorporate into my daily living. The very best writer does not just present a good story, but through his story inspires you to be a better person, and that is what Alexander has always done for me.

His final book, finished right before his death in 2007, is The Golden Dream of Carlo Chuchio. I usually prefer to buy books in paperback, but I pre-ordered that one, in hardcover, to come as soon as it was published. As with all his others, it blended humor and truth in perfect proportions, and never came close to preaching. It was a fitting epitaph to his life.

Every time I go into a bookstore these days, I find myself drifting hopefully over to the "A" section of both children's and YA, wistfully thinking that perhaps they will have discovered some previously unpublished works among Alexander's papers, and be able to offer us just one more story from him. Alas, I think we are destined to only be able to re-read the books already published, but at least they are well worth the journey. There are very few writers of whom I can say this, but every time I read one of his books I find something new in it.

From all I understand, Alexander exhibited those traits in his life he showed so well through his writing - humility, humor, kindness, practicality, and a keen zest for the adventure of life.

He has been a tremendous influence on me, both as a writer and human being, and I can only hope that someday I might be able to carry on his legacy in my own writings.

Are you familiar with Lloyd Alexander? If so, which is your favorite book, and why? (I think The Arkadians just barely tops my list, but I love them all too much to choose just one favorite!) What was the first book you read of his, and what do you remember most about it?