Book Review--Five Magic Spindles

 

 Through My Window 

 

 

THIS. This is the fairytale collection I've been waiting for from Rooglewood Press. I certainly did not expect it, since Sleeping Beauty isn't a story of much interest for me, but each and every story in here STUNNED me with brilliant originality, gorgeous, unique writing, and perfectly crafted, paced, and concluded plot.

The Man on the Buckskin Horse: The first is a Western, and while I *may* not have recognized it as a Sleeping Beauty story without being told, each important aspect of the tale is nevertheless represented. Our POV, a midwife instead of a good fairy, has the cheekiest voice that never fails to amuse (especially while she's noting that gunman's looks!)

Guardian of Our Beauty: We travel far back in time and to a foreign yet familiar land set in a time of ziggurats and leviathans and pagan gods. Our heroine is determined to fulfill a prophecy and save her land, but she wishes it required more than just sleeping for hundred years. As it happens, the prophecy will require much more, as her special gifts and bright determination will need to help guide an unlikely hero to save her land.

The Ghost of Briardale: Delightfully wonky and so creative. Elves, dwarves, swamp-beasts, and yes, even true heroes a thing of the past. Believe in them or anything else strange (like say, a ghost) and you get declared insane and toted off the asylum in the dense, dangerous swamp. But as that ghost won't keep harassing our poor hapless hero, he might just need to listen up to her pleas and save the elf kingdom concealed in the asylum, wake the sleeping princess, and overthrow the vengeful witch...Really cute characters, surprising twists!

Spindle Cursed: Following a more classic old fantasy feel, we are deeply acquainted with the valiant prince (girls, he's a legit knight in shining armor without wearing...the armor...), his faithful 2nd-hand man, the princess frustrated by the lack of true love in all previous kisses she's received, her kooky fairy guardian, and the cunning Lady Regent whose chance has finally come to claim control of the kingdom--after all, when one has a dragon, who tells you no? Oh, that's right--knights in shining armor. And 2nd-hand mans, princesses, and kooky faeries might just want in on some of that action too...

Out of the Tomb: Okay, the first thing I did was zip to this final story because I've been wanting to read that ever since seeing its summary.

JUST WOW

THIS is my type of girl and guy story....

When embittered survivalist, tomb raider Tanza, accidentally wakes a missing prince from his 100 year stasis sleep, she discovers she's not so heartless as to abandon him, especially since his last memories were of tortured near death at the hands of the rebels that went on to destroy his entire kingdom and family. Things have changed since then. Their world has been taken over the alien human empire, bringing in new technologies, corruptions, and conveniences. While the prince's royal roots may have been rotten, he himself took on the responsibility of the 14 virtue names given him that were supposed to guide him through life. Of course, Tanza's difficult life has no room for virtue and Prince Auren will just have to learn the hard way...

Every aspect of this story is flawless and gripping! Yes, its sci-fi, but a world just coming out of a post-revolution and regicide era, where old cars are still sputtering about, and vengeful terrorists strike without mercy. Our heroes struggles, sacrifices, and triumphs are truly something to cheer.

Book Review: A Branch of Silver, A Branch of Gold by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

A GHOSTLY RETELLING OF

"THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES"

For six hundred years I have dwelt in this prison. Trapped. Helpless.

Unliving and undying.

For six hundred years I have watched as cursebreakers come and go. Brave young women all, gifted with powers beyond mortal understanding.

I have watched them die. I have watched them wish to die.

Once again the Family of Night invades this country to claim its dues, and this generation’s cursebreaker has her chance to break the endless chain of torment. To save me. To save her sisters.

But how can a peasant child scarcely fourteen years of age discover the three-part key and liberate the captives? Will she too be doomed to join the Death Dance binding us all to the Family of Night?

 Through My Window

Before there can be a beginning, there must first be an end.

It was a sad day for fans when Anne Elisabeth declared she must pause the Tales of Goldstone Wood series for a few years….it seemed new journeys into the Between were at an end, at least for a time. But lo and behold, a new beginning awaited! The first book of a four part series set WITHIN Goldstone Wood….not part of the series itself, but part of the very same world. So what joy, what excitement!

For me, it did not disappoint. True, the style of writing is a shade different…the plot takes its own sweet time in building up pace, and description can feel a bit repetitive at times. When I say the description is repetitive, I do not mean that it uses the same descriptions over and over, but that she finds a new and unique way to depict something. And that is a power all of its own as it creates a reality of mortal worlds and faerie horrors with high skill and grounded knowledge.

As always with Anne Elisabeth’s writings, if you know history or culture, you may recognize the inspired genius….apparently a certain important element in this book is directly inspired from a freakish ballet called “Le Sacre du primtempts." Who knew? I sure wouldn’t have without being told by a friend. But even if you don’t know what Anne Elisabeth may be using as reference, you can just feel the authenticity.

I think, perhaps, this plot is more confusing than previous Goldstone novels…both the cause and cure of the faerie curse are very complex, but really, what else can we expect from the fey kind? Don’t worry, if you are patient, your questions will be answered when all is said and done. This book is an excellent example of the art of withholding information from the reader to create mystery and suspense.

And the characters! Oh the characters! Heloise may be a little difficult at first for some people, being a headstrong young teenage girl (much like Meirda from Brave, actually), but she truly has development through this book. And Benedict! My! He starts off seemingly simple, and oh, how much he hides! *excuse me as I go sniffle, snork, and blow my nose* Such a sweetheart, such a knight, such a tragedy. Then there is a sylph. We’ve had sylph in the tales before, but this sylph is the BEST EVER. Cutest little stinker, I would hug it if sylphs could be hugged.

Then there is the Family of Night. Very. Interesting. And disturbing. And more complicated than at first impressions. And above all, readers of Goldstone Wood have heard of them before. Or at least of one member or two.

This is the beginning of a great thing for fantasy or fairytale readers. There are at least, three or four books more for this series, so take heart and prepare to continue the journey! If you are have wandered the Wood before, prepare to be swept off on a sylph wind as you return to the Between you love and encounter loved ones and new faces alike! If you are new, perhaps seeking a retelling of Twelve Dancing Princesses…you will find a beautiful and unique version…and so. much. more.

Many Sights Out the Window

Good morning, dear readers of mine! (If um, any of you are still around after my prolonged absence.) I hope all of you have been well and blessed in your life and endeavors!

So many wonderful things are in motion right now, and I thought I might share some of my favorites in case you hadn't heard of them...

First of all, some of you may know I am a BIG fan of The Wingfeather Saga. Like big. If you haven't read my review, here you are....So imagine how THRILLED I am when I hear it is being turned into an animated series! This isn't just a happy little dream, Andrew Peterson has some truly talented people on this team who can make it happen. But of course they need support, which is why they have the project on Kickstarter for funding. If any of you wish there was more quality animated series around, this is a great project to get behind! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/478789344/bring-the-wingfeather-saga-to-the-screen


Now I'm sure most of you have heard this....but the tragic parting from Goldstone Wood is not so terrible long as we thought! Anne Elisabeth is starting a new spin-off series this MAY!!! BUT---if you sign up for her newsletter, you will have a chance to buy the ebook version for $.99 this March 18-20. Which is CRAZY!!!!  So um, yes. All is well with the world for the Imps.

The winners for Five Magic Spindles were announced, and oh, they sound so interesting!

Also, The Goldstone Wood Fan Art Contest is open for entries this month and it is being hosted over at Dame Imraldera's Library, so go over there for the rules and details...! Please enter, I love seeing all the art and creativity! 

So there you have it, dear readers! Some of my favorite exciting new things! Anything that has you bouncing up and down this month? Do share! :)

Cover Reveal--Draven's Light by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

It's always such a thrilling event when a new cover for the Tales of Goldstone Wood is revealed. Here is the official unveiling of the cover for Anne Elisabeth's newest novella! And wow..................
....................................
Just wow.
Look at it. May I say how happy I am to have a hero on the front cover at last?

In the Darkness of the Pit

The Light Shines Brightest

Drums summon the chieftain’s powerful son to slay a man in cold blood and thereby earn his place among the warriors. But instead of glory, he earns the name Draven, “Coward.” When the men of his tribe march off to war, Draven remains behind with the women and his shame. Only fearless but crippled Ita values her brother’s honor.

The warriors return from battle victorious yet trailing a curse in their wake. One by one the strong and the weak of the tribe fall prey to an illness of supernatural power. The secret source of this evil can be found and destroyed by only the bravest heart.

But when the curse attacks the one Draven loves most, can this coward find the courage he needs to face the darkness?

Coming May 25, 2015

 EXCERPT

 

He heard the drums in his dreams, distant but drawing ever nearer. He had heard them before and wondered if the time of his manhood had come. But with the approach of dawn, the drums always faded away and he woke to the world still a child. Still a boy.

But this night, the distant drums were louder, stronger. Somehow he knew they were not concocted of his sleeping fancy. No, even as he slept he knew these were real drums, and he recognized the beat: The beat of death. The beat of blood.

The beat of a man’s heart.

He woke with a start, his leg throbbing where it had just been kicked. It was not the sort of awakening he had longed for these last two years and more. He glared from his bed up into the face of his sister, who stood above him, balancing her weight on a stout forked branch tucked under her left shoulder.

“Ita,” the boy growled, “what are you doing here? Go back to the women’s hut!”

His sister made a face at him, but he saw, even by the moonlight streaming through cracks in the thatch above, that her eyes were very round and solemn. Only then did he notice that the drumbeats of his dream were indeed still booming deep in the woods beyond the village fires. He sat up then, his heart thudding its own thunderous pace.

“A prisoner,” Ita said, shifting her branch so that she might turn toward the door. “The drums speak of a prisoner. They’re bringing him even now.” She flashed a smile down at him, though it was so tense with anxiety it could hardly be counted a smile at all. “Gaho, your name!”

The boy was up and out of his bed in a moment, reaching for a tunic and belt. His sister hobbled back along the wall but did not leave, though he wished she would. He wished she would allow him these few moments before the drums arrived in the village. The drums that beat of one man’s death . . . and one man’s birth.

His name was Gaho. But by the coming of dawn, if the drums’ promise was true, he would be born again in blood and bear a new name.

Hands shaking with what he desperately hoped wasn’t fear, he tightened his belt and searched the room for his sickle blade. He saw the bone handle, white in the moonlight, protruding from beneath his bed pile, and swiftly took it up. The bronze gleamed dully, like the carnivorous tooth of an ancient beast.

A shudder ran through his sister’s body. Gaho, sensing her distress, turned to her. She grasped her supporting branch hard, and the smile was gone from her face. “Gaho,” she said, “will you do it?”

“I will,” said Gaho, his voice strong with mounting excitement.

But Ita reached out to him suddenly, catching his weapon hand just above the wrist. “I will lose you,” she said. “My brother . . . I will lose you!”

“You will not. You will lose only Gaho,” said the boy, shaking her off, gently, for she was not strong. Without another word, he ducked through the door of his small hut—one he had built for himself but a year before in anticipation of his coming manhood—and stood in the darkness of Rannul Village, eyes instinctively turning to the few campfires burning. The drums were very near now, and he could see the shadows of waking villagers moving about the fires, building up the flames in preparation for what must surely follow. He felt eyes he could not see turning to his hut, turning to him. He felt the question each pair of eyes asked in silent curiosity: Will it be tonight?

Tonight or no night.

Grasping the hilt of his weapon with both hands, Gaho strode to the dusty village center, which was beaten down into hard, packed earth from years of meetings and matches of strength held in this same spot. Tall pillars of aged wood ringed this circle, and women hastened to these, bearing torches which they fit into hollowed-out slots in each pillar. Soon the village center was bright as noonday, but with harsh red light appropriate for coming events.

Gaho stood in the center of that light, his heart ramming in his throat though his face was a stoic mask. All the waking village was gathered now, men, women, and children, standing just beyond the circle, watching him.

The drums came up from the river, pounding in time to the tramp of warriors’ feet. Then the warriors themselves were illuminated by the ringing torches, their faces anointed in blood, their heads helmed with bone and bronze, their shoulders covered in hides of bear, wolf, and boar. Ten men carried tight skin drums, beating them with their fists. They entered the center first, standing each beneath one of the ringing pillars. Other warriors followed them, filling in the gaps between.

Then the chieftain, mighty Gaher, appeared. He carried his heavy crescent ax in one hand, and Gaho saw that blood stained its edge—indeed, blood spattered the blade from tip to hilt and covered the whole of the chieftain’s fist. Gaher strode into the circle, and the boy saw more blood in his beard. But he also saw the bright, wolfish smile and knew for certain that his sister had been correct. The night of naming had come.

“My son,” said the chief, saluting Gaho with upraised weapon.

“My father,” said Gaho, raising his sickle blade in return.

 “Are you ready this night to die and live again?” asked the chief. His voice carried through the shadows, and every one of the tribe heard it, and any and all listening beasts of forests and fields surrounding. “Are you ready this night for the spilling of blood that must flow before life may begin?”

Gaho drew a deep breath, putting all the strength of his spirit into his answer. “I am ready, Father.”

Gaher’s smile grew, the torchlight flashing red upon his sharpened canines. He turned then and motioned to the darkness beyond the torchlight.

The sacrifice was brought forward.

AUTHOR BIO:

ANNE ELISABETH STENGL makes her home in North Carolina, where she lives with her husband, Rohan, a kindle of kitties, and one long-suffering dog. When she’s not writing, she enjoys Shakespeare, opera, and tea, and practices piano, painting, and pastry baking. She is the author of the critically-acclaimed Tales of Goldstone Wood. Her novel Starflower was awarded the 2013 Clive Staples Award, and her novels Heartless, Veiled Rose, and Dragonwitch have each been honored with a Christy Award.

To learn more about Anne Elisabeth Stengl and her books visit:www.AnneElisabethStengl.blogspot.com

 You can pre-order the book here by clicking this button! Feel free to share the button and the link on your blog!

And Anne Elisabeth has also provided a Rafflecopter giveaway! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

"In Death, My Love..."

"In death, my love, I loved you best." --The Monster in the Hollows, by Andrew Peterson

Thus says the great hero with his last breath.

The death of a good character in a story is very difficult to me, in both reading and writing. Indeed, one death poorly executed or highly unwanted is enough to ruin an otherwise decent book. But when it is done right, when the author writes it with complete purpose and beauty, then--ah!--then it might elevate the novel to one of my very favorites.

"That's all well and good for a story," a realist might say. "But that's not how it works in the real world. When people are killed it's not often in a heroic manner, and they very less often have the chance to something really punchy, especially in the presence of their loved ones or worst enemy." They'd be right. That doesn't happen in this world very often.

I once read a book, a very interesting and well-written book, in which there was a young man, handsome and kind, with a bright future ahead of him, even if he didn't know what he wanted to do yet. He was just a side character, but hey, he was fun, and I could envision a great friendship between him and the hero. He was wounded when they went off on their perilous mission, and I was anxious for him--but I did not expect the heroes to round a corner and find him on the floor, shot to death. I was kind of stunned. Angry. It ruined the book. I was in a grey cloud the rest of the day. It wasn't fair, he didn't even have a chance, it was just cut off, no warning, no nothing! His life was ended. That was it. Well, I thought grudgingly. Kudos to the author for writing reality. Cause that sort of thing is more real.

Or is it?

Could it be that epic, fantastical deaths might display a better understanding of death than our limited mortal knowledge? Is death really just a cut-off of life? Or is it a door into Beyond? According to my belief in the Bible, it is either an entrance into eternal life or eternal death. Death was a result of sin, and for the sinner it means the final sundering from God and everything good. But with the sacrifice of Christ, for the believer in Him it means a doorway to something more beautiful and perfect than we can ever imagine. It is interesting to note that Tolkien wrote death as a gift to mankind, whereas the elves had both the curse and blessing to linger until the End. For the believer, it is the release from the "reality" of this fallen world.

Even so, death remains a hard, difficult thing to understand. Someone is losing someone. That loss should be felt in a story as well, and deeply. But when one is writing literature, I think it is best to make death meaningful--the bittersweet beauty of it for the hero and the sorrowful hopelessness or justifiable satisfaction at the villain's. Granted, there are those poor red shirts who just die without a thought (unless of course, you're like Anne Elisabeth Stengl and like to make the reader ache for some random bad guy because you remind us he was once a child and such). ;)

Writing death with meaning and conviction is first and foremost important to the reader. Remind them of the severity and sorrow, but also hope of that which is beyond. Please, don't ever just kill a character cause you don't know what to do with them (like Diana Barry) . That's not how the Author of the world works, so we shouldn't either.

Personally, when it comes to the death of a hero, I prefer it to be a courageous act of self-sacrifice, a moment that reveals their greatest nature in a final celebration of their life. It is fitting, because the most pivotal and important death in our history was the Ultimate Sacrifice. There's something that swells our heart about the hero finding peace at the end, knowing that it isn't the end for him. And what really scores high for me as a reader is when we have a slight glimpse or hint of them afterwards--as shown by C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Anne Elisabeth Stengl.

For me, the best heroic deaths in literature can be found in these books.

"Can you forgive me?" --Dragonwitch by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

"I love you." The Warden and the Wolf King by Andrew Peterson

"I go now to my long rest in the timeless halls beyond the seas and the Mountains of Aman. It will be long ere I am seen among the Noldor again; and it may be that we shall not meet a second time in death or life, for the fates of our kindreds are apart. Farewell!" --The Silmarillion (Tolkien is notorious for final death speeches. They always have so much to say.)

"In death, my love, I loved you best." The Monster In the Hollows by Andrew Peterson.

And the all-famous--"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go than I have ever known." A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

You get a pat on the back if you know who says each of these! But don't say who actually says them--that would be spoiling. Except for the Simarillion one. If you know that, shout it out! And please share the books you think have the best heroic deaths in them...just don't say who dies, cause once again--spoilers! ;)

Book Review--Golden Daughter by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

It is clear from the beginning that this tale is unique from all the other Tales. It takes place in a far different and more ruthless world than we have met before in the series. Even the time we spend in the Between is a different place than we have seen. But despite almost an entirely new cast and setting, this Tale is VITAL to the series. I dare not reveal all the incredible things revealed here. It is the first night of Moonblood. It is the first part of Sunan's history (it is hard to believe that this Sunan is the same Sunan we love later on). And we learn the history of the Goldstone. And--oh, so much!

Any newcomers into Goldstone Wood might be surprised to find out Golden Daughter is "Christian" fantasy. After all, most of the characters and the very culture dedicates itself to their goddess, the moon. And while some perform their rituals with hypocritical ease, others carry out their dedication with disturbing loyalty. Unlike most Christian fantasy, this doesn't take the point of view of the "Christian" character.

This is the real world. Not to say that is actually exists, but because the foundation of it is true. A corrupt world. Fallen. Deceived. As such, there is false religion, and people devoted and aloof to it. There is an awareness of the more lewd sides of the world that adds a certain maturity that wasn't so present in other Goldstone Novels. It shows us that men trying to connect with the spiritual worlds without God's summoning leads to damaging consequences. But this book takes us by the hand, and guides us through the lies, shows the fragility of the promises of the world, and brings us to a profound and beautiful portrayal of God's character and ultimate power.

And actually, there does turn out to be a parallel here with a familiar Bible story. But perhaps because it is so obvious, we overlook it, because I never recognized it until thinking about the story later. 

This is definitely the most violent of the Tales so far. Not really graphic or disturbing, but it still packs some punch. It might be a bit too harsh for the very sensitive reader. The headcount by the end is rather high....and Anne Elisabeth has this way of making you feel each one, even the people you didn't particularly like.

That is another of her gifts. Creating real people, so real you have trouble liking them. Oh, to be sure, there are plenty of characters to love here: Sairu--one of the funnest and most darling (and deadly) female characters I've met in a while, Jovann--who is AWESOME, Eanrin--who...who brings a whole new level to the words "I love him." But then we have characters who we see or know to commit heinous and cold deeds--characters who we might call "bad"--shock us with their depth. They may have few loves and loyalties left, but to those few they cling with a resilience that is truly admirable. We also have plain evil characters who are just totally consumed with evil.

The Dragon reaches a new tier in villainy here. (Somehow it is more chilling when a villain kills an innocent, cute little animal, than say, a random brash knight. Okay, fine, it was the way he killed the animal.)

And then there is Lady Hariawan...she is...nothing. Not to say the reader doesn't see other sides, things she might be...but the decisions she makes, the road she takes...she acts soulless. This aspect of her character is completely intentional and necessary. It is even explained, if you read between the lines and know the laws of Faerie. But really, I think I despise her more than any other character I've met in Goldstone Wood. Gleamdren (in Starflower) was cute and funny in her annoyingly selfish way. Hariawan is chilling, using other people for her own ends with absolutely no true care in her heart. Indeed, Sairu's continuous devotion to her was one of the only things I couldn't understand. I guess being raised to always protect your master is pretty strong. Sairu's loyalty wasn't unrealistic, just not something I could relate to. The same goes for a few other motivations in the story; they weren't flaws, just not something I understood.

Foreboding, strange, and ruthless are the worlds through which this tale weaves. It is difficult to discern what the will of the Song Giver is, what role the characters will play. But to those who are willing to take the journey, they will find a beauty at its peak, a hope of infinite glory. I do not believe I have yet read in a fantasy a more powerful, more beautiful representation of God as is found here in these pages. Indeed, in the midst of reading it, I found my eyes swimming with tears, for the potency of His majesty, love, and grandeur rang true in my own life.

And that is the work of a master storyteller.