Tag Archives: fiction

the royal we

the royal we

Becoming a princess may be a fairy tale we’ve all grown up with, but finding a relationship where you are loved in spite of your flaws is a true happy ending. Both Bex and Nick make mistakes, but that both of them are allowed to be imperfect but still in love is what makes The Royal We so touching.

Unfortunately, as real life knows all too well but fairly tales gloss over, love isn’t all it takes to make a life together. And when you fall in love with the future king of England, the roadblocks to happy ever after are a bit bigger than in a civilian relationship. Like a sledding hill compared with Mount Everest.

Bex Porter, American exchange student to Oxford, and Nick Wales, as in Nick OF Wales, future king of England, begin their relationship as all the best relationships start: bonding over awesome terrible TV with awesome terrible snacks. Spending late nights eating junk food and watching the next installment of Devour, a supernatural American soap opera, is one of the truer ways to fall in love that I’ve ever read. (After all, weekly emails over a TV show is part of what drew me and my own man together–TV and true love are both magic.) And when the two give in to their feelings, finally, it’s sweet and charming and touching, and Nick is every bit a prince (the lowercase kind–a nice, caring gentleman).

But a paradise of twinkies and soap operas can’t last forever. Eventually their relationship will have to come into the light, like an evil twin vampire that is surely on an episode of Devour. And when the palace is through with Bex, she’s not sure she can still see herself when she looks in the mirror.

Not every love can withstand a family that changes the way you look and act to be their version of “acceptable,” and not every relationship is built to exist in front of vicious paparazzi and internet commenters. But the thing that makes Nick and Bex special is that they aren’t extraordinary. They don’t have a perfect love that can make it through anything–they have a real love that gets beat up, and is hard to hold on to, and can be full of doubts one minute and full of grace the next. Nick and Bex are not immortal, they are not angels, they are not superheroes. They are human. And that makes them perfect.

And their relationship isn’t the only great one in the Royal We. There are friendships built in college dorm rooms that last through grown-up jobs and real-life stresses. Bex’s twin sister Lacey and Nick’s brother Freddie provide some of the best support and create the worst obstacles, as siblings sometimes do. And Nick and Bex couldn’t have relationships with their fathers that were more different if they tried.

And like any great soap opera, there’s backstabbing and plotting; the sex is sexy, and sometimes scandalous; there’s sharp one-liners; and plenty of moments that made me laugh out loud and some that made me ugly cry.

The Royal We is so funny, warm, and full of life, it will be the perfect way to warm up after this dreadful winter. It comes out April 7, but you can get the first seven chapters for free right now on Amazon.

illustration of vin from mistborn, at a ball

vin from Mistborn

Vin is a survivor. She is resourceful and smart, overcoming beatings on the street to become a valued member of a thieving crew. Vin is a fighter, no matter if she’s stealing from the rich or dancing among them.

There were a lot of things I love, love, loved about Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn: The Final Empire, the first in the Mistborn trilogy, besides the main character, Vin. The storytelling is complex and layered, the world is detailed and interesting, and the characters are human and tragic.

Within the great story and characters, Sanderson used clothing to help build his world. A uniform helped unite an army, a cloak for the magical Mistborn helped them hide in plain sight, and a dress helped Vin spy on the nobility.

She didn’t need shadows or corners–she just needed a mask of sapphires, makeup, and blue fabric. — Mistborn: The Final Empire

With make up on her face instead of ash, and a shawl on her shoulders instead of her Mistborn cloak, Vin infiltrated the nobility by attending ball after ball. And instead of seeing a streetwise thief, the nobility was blinded by her dress and saw instead a nobleman’s daughter.

Fashion is the armor to survive the reality of everyday life – Bill Cunningham

In our world, clothing and fashion works much the same way. I don’t usually need to spy on nobility at fancy balls, but I do need to convince people I’m a professional at work. So like Vin, I dress the part and it helps fortify me for the role I need to play.

The more Vin acts like Valette, her noble persona, the more she realizes that this confident noblewoman is just another side of her. But becoming more comfortable among the people she means to eventually fight–and actually seeing them as human–causes trouble for Vin and her crew as they plan a heist bigger than any they’ve tried before.

I drew Vin going to her first ball, when she realized that the dress and makeup were just another disguise she could hide beneath. The drawing is pen and marker. I would have liked to make her dress a lighter, dreamier blue, but I wanted to work with the markers I already own. I can’t wait to take a look at some of the other uniforms and clothing in Mistborn, and delve into some of the great parts of this complex story.

the magician’s land and a good meal

the magicians land

The Magician’s Land (Kindle here) is the final book in Lev Grossman’s trilogy that follows Quentin Coldwater and his friends as they first learn magic, and then learn that magic alone isn’t enough.

This fantasy series has magical spells, beasts, and worlds, but what Quentin’s friends must really face is reality. It can be dark, but the Magician’s Land is also a great adventure and can be fun, funny, and touching.

One of my favorite parts was not falling into other worlds or chasing mysterious super-magicians on a magic carpet–though that was all fantastic fun–it was when a character needed to be reminded of their humanity.

And all it took was some bacon. Well, bacon was a start. This character was given freshly cooked bacon, some excellent chocolate, champagne, and more, to help remind them that being human can be delicious, and good, and the food that feeds your body can also feed your soul.

Which got me thinking: What would be on my plate if I needed a serving of love and compassion?

I’d need a hot cup of good coffee to start. It feels good to hold in your hands. It’s a ritual to pour and stir and hold and drink. And it reminds me of my mom, which is a pretty good place to start if you need to feel human and loved.

I’d also like just-baked cookies. Another treat to smell and to eat, the kind that are warm and gooey from the oven. I have only good memories of baking cookies, and I hope that never changes.

And crisp, cold beer. It almost doesn’t matter what kind, but if I could pick, it would Allagash White, or some other wheat beer, with a slice of citrus.

If I still needed reminding that being a human can be a wonderful thing, find me a hot shower, an ocean, and a baby to hold. I’d be pretty convinced after that.

So tell me, please, what would be in your remembering-humanity-is-great meal?

neverwhere by neil gaiman

rae's days neverwhere illustration

When I was little, I played a game with a friend of mine who was a very talented artist. We would design a house for her iguana (his name was Mikey) and draw rooms on different sheets of paper. She and I would hatch different designs, and she would turn our ideas into pictures. We’d end up with pages and pages of rooms and hallways that we could move and reshuffle to make a mansion-sized house of cards. In Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere (Kindle here), Door’s family’s entryway to everywhere reminds me of this game. When Door enters this room, she sees images of all the rooms her family has access to as part of their home. No matter how far away these rooms are, Door’s family can open the door and walk in.

Door’s family can open doors, and this game opened our imagination. (Essentially, I guess, that’s the same thing.) When you’re little and playing pretend, the world is full of possibilities. But as Richard Mayhew finds out, the adult world can often leave you feeling trapped–trapped in a loveless relationship, a dead-end job, or without a home and on the street.

When Richard stops to help Door, he opens his heart and mind once more to new possibilities–but like any new opportunity, it begins with Richard facing extreme difficulty and unimaginable torment.

Because after Richard recognizes Door as a person, one who happens to need help, he is thrust from his world in London Above and into her world of London Below (which are, pretty much, exactly what they sound like). As a result, no one in London Above notices Richard is even there. His ex-fiancee draws a blank, his desk at work is gone, and his home is sold right out from under him despite his cries of protests. (Is there anything more demoralizing than being completely ignored?)

So Richard heads to London Below, where he finds the rest of those who slipped through the cracks. Like Croup and Vandemar, two peas in a murderous pod, or Hunter, the beautiful guard focused wholly on her prey. (I’d have to watch my back, but I feel like I’d like to meet almost everyone in London Below.) Richard does his best to find his way, but this world is completely new to him and he doesn’t understand what everyone else seems to inherently know.

Everyone, at some point or another, has felt like Richard Mayhew. We’ve all felt ignored and abandoned, and hopelessly lost.

But Richard has the gift of recognizing the humanness in others (even if, in London Below, they aren’t all exactly human). To recognize another person, to say, “I see you, and I respect you, and I accept you,“ is the greatest gift we can give and sometimes the hardest thing to do. But respect saves lives (and souls), and this is what keeps Richard safe through his journey in the underworld of London.

Richard has a gift, but he let it get buried in the everyday nothings of everyday life that can weigh us all down. Lucky for him, and for those who pick up Neverwhere, Door opens his imagination once again to fun–and funny!–adventures.

Illustration is pen and ink; links are affiliate. 

vampires in the lemon grove: decorating inspiration

silk room decorating inspiration from polyvore

I haven’t yet finished Vampires in the Lemon Grove: And Other Stories by Karen Russell (Kindle here), but what I’ve read so far has been imaginative and beautiful–but with underlying horror and sadness. In the story “Reeling for the Empire,” a group of girls are held captive to produce beautiful silk for their government.

In this case, “produce” is quite literal as these girls transform into human silkworms. They feel the silk form deep in their gut, like a physical embodiment of their regret and shame. They hold on to their humanity for as long as they can, but it’s only when they submit to what they have become that allows them to build a cocoon and transform from slaves into something else.

It’s not a happy story. But it is beautiful. I love the contrast of something so pretty and delicate in the setting of such a dark story. The silk these girls create is colorful, every color of the rainbow, and each girl produces a color unique to herself. So in my design inspiration I focused on bold, beautiful colors in materials like velvet, chrome, cashmere, and–of course–silk.

The bed is a canopy bed, where you can be warm and safe in a personal cocoon, and the drapes over the bed are dip-dyed, from a light, pure white to a dark, sinister blue-black. The mirrored bed frame reminds me of an industrial factory, but it also represents how these girls had no mirrors and could not see what they had morphed into. The gold table, rug, and mirror call back to a moth’s wings in this story, which are gold and ivory with an intricate design. The oval mirror is the same shape as their only window. The pillows remind me of loopy handwriting–the handwriting that signed the contracts to work in the factory.

And the tea cup, of course, is where their transformation began.

what to read next

It’s a little over halfway through the year, and I’ve read 15 books so far (you can see my stats on Goodreads). It’s been a good year for books. I just finished Mr. Mercedes, and this year I also finished the Sandman and read NOS4A2 and Boy, Snow, Bird–and many other wonderful reads.

And now I’m facing the inevitable question: What do I read next? the bat

The Bat by Jo Nesbo (Kindle here) is our new family book club read. It’s a crime novel I’ve heard very good things about for far too long without reading it myself. If you want to read along with us, we are having our discussion in September, so we are all trying to finish reading by the end of August.

I also have about 1,000 comics I want to catch up on. I’m still reading Saga, and the most recent issue was a game changer (but don’t they all seem that way?). I reallllllly want to read The Preacher, and the first volume has been burning a hole in my bookshelf for a while. Plus, I got the very cool complete Frank Miller’s Batman for my birthday.

batman

*And* I want to keep reading Mary Robinette Kowal’s Glamourist histories. The next one on my list is Without a Summer (which is actually the third in the series).

So basically I’m drowning in a sea of riches. I better choose quick.

mr. mercedes: screennames

mr. mercedes by stephen king

I was talking with Michael recently about what our screennames were, back when everyone used AOL instant messenger. Mine was raendrop316 and I thought it was really clever because my name sounds like rain AND it incorporated my first name and last initial. The numbers were just because I liked the numbers 3 and 16. Nothing clever there.

In Stephen King’s new book, Mr. Mercedes (kindle here), they don’t exactly go back to AOL, but the killer does reach out to a detective using an anonymous messenger service and usernames. And they are just as clever as my 13-year-old self.

The killer uses the merckill. You know, for the Mercedes Killer. The detective’s is kermitfrog19. You know, because his first name is Kermit.

Although the screennames might be a callback to old technology, the rest of the tech in Mr. Mercedes keeps up with the times. Many books eschew technology completely, either by setting the story in a different world or time, or just ignoring its use altogether (much like how on TV shows, everyone shows up at each other’s homes instead of giving them a call). It’s fun to see it used realistically and efficiently in Mr. Mercedes. Someone leaving their phone in their car leads to miscommunication, funeral arrangements can be made on an iPad, and a killer can IM just as easily as leaving an old-school letter for someone to find.

One of my favorite things about King is how his books echo real life. Maybe not in their plots (I hope you aren’t communicating with an anonymous killer, at any rate), but in small events that mirror the small events in your own life. Like getting mad at someone for sleeping through phone calls when you need them, or being embarrassed your hacked emails got sent to your colleagues, or making a screenname based off a nickname and some numbers you like.

I’m about halfway through Mr. Mercedes, and it has been a fantastic summer read. That is, if you like your beach reading about murder mysteries instead of a summer romance (though there’s a little bit of that, too). The boring realities of iPads and work emails don’t seem boring when King tells their story, and the characters are more relatable and realistic because of it. And if the “boring” parts of Mr. Mercedes are this fun, what does that say about the exciting parts?

to rise again at a decent hour

to rise again at a decent hour by joshua ferris

There is something wrong with Paul C. O’Rourke.

It’s not just his frenetic need to tape (on VHS) and watch (except for the sixth inning) every single Red Sox game. And it’s not just in the way he talks about his relationships–always a little too in love, a little too obsessed.

The way he set up his dental practice without a personal, private office probably doesn’t help. (Wouldn’t anyone go crazy helping patients who hate going to the dentist without a second on your own to breathe?)

He’s a total Monet. He seems ok from far away, but on getting a little closer to Paul, his splattering emotions come into view. His despair seeps out, his desire for love can’t be contained, and the messy parts of him don’t quite add up to a whole man.

Paul’s desperation for family and a sense of self leaves him vulnerable, and when an anonymous person on the internet starts to impersonate him, the decay in Paul’s life pushes through his not-so-well-crafted veneer. Paul’s internet impersonator introduces him to a new religion called the “Ulms,” and Paul can’t help but think this might be his salvation. The Ulms prey on Paul, like so many cults do, but he is in too deep and already too lost to see it.

It’s painful to watch Paul flounder as someone takes better control of his life on the internet than he ever could in real life, but it’s also darkly funny, and real, and hopeful. As terrible as Paul can be, he is the best part of Joshua Ferris’ To Rise Again at a Decent Hour (Kindle here).

Ferris has always excelled at creating human characters. Paul is not one-note; he is a symphony of problems, desires, callousness, desperation, love, wonder, and wanderlust.

Paul is the narrator of this story, and an unreliable one at that. Ferris trusts that we’ll see when Paul is a little off, and those moments are some of the funniest. Ferris trusts the reader, too, to fill in Paul’s side of the conversation. When Ferris only showed others’ responses to Paul–a fun and interesting structure–it revealed just as much as if we had a tape recording of the conversation. It is a delight to be in Ferris’ world again and hear his sharp wit and honest storytelling.

Some of the people in Paul’s life may be worse for knowing him, but I am better for having read about him. Paul is a dentist, a boss, an ex-boyfriend, but above all he is someone searching for a truth that will fill his heart. He is human and he is lost, just like the rest of us.

Just a few of many great quotes:

  • Watching her strip was like receiving an inexpert massage from a blind lady.
  • You’re mortal, and it’s ugly.
  • Paint forgets within the hour what it learns in an instant
  • A man is full of things you simply cannot tweet.

valour and vanity by mary robinette kowal

valour and vanity by mary robinette kowal

Valour and Vanity (Kindle here) is the fourth of Mary Robinette Kowal’s Regency England histories that follow the couple Vincent and Jane, and their families. I have not yet read the three books before this, but that did not keep me from enjoying Valour and Vanity tremendously, and it should not stop you from picking up any book from this series either.

The Regency era is Jane Austen’s England. The Prince Regent, who is the son of Mad King George (remember him from learning about the revolution, my American friends?), is a big proponent of excess and art, and Jane and Vincent work as his glamourists. Glamour is basically magic that creates illusions by manipulating light and sound.

And that becomes Vincent and Jane’s trade in this novel: not glamour, but illusion.

When the couple heads to Murano to find a glassmaker, they are waylaid by pirates. And that is the least alarming thing that happens to them on this trip. They end up swindled by those they thought were friends and can’t leave Murano until they pay back what they owe.

It seems so simple right? If you lose your money on vacation, you go back to your hotel and call the bank, or your mom, or the American Embassy, if things really go wrong. But Jane and Vincent don’t have telephones or airplanes or online banking. Penniless, and with no practical skills save for glamour, they are left with nothing but each other. Well, that and Jane’s wedding ring, which they pawn for cash.

We never have quests any more. When is the last time you had to go somewhere to find something or bring it back or travel to create something you need or fulfil your destiny? We don’t even have to go to the mall at Christmas time, you can just order everything online. Our problem solving these days is very different from what Jane and Vincent face.

But what they go through is familiar. I’ve been poor and struggling to pay the rent. I’ve bought something fancy and small as a treat just to beat myself up about the extra $5 it cost. I haven’t been able to find a job and have lied about how great I’m doing in the meantime. And I’ve fought with loved ones and tried to hide the painful truth. And I’ve turned to something drastic to get back on my feet again.

When Vincent gets to the edge of what he can take, the couple gets a lucky break. (As so often happens in life, as well.) Their lucky break allows them to make a plan to take back what was stolen from them. Using every glamourist trick they know, plus new tricks in the physical realm, they embark on their dangerous plan–with the help of some new friends.

This heist is more fun than any I’ve ever been a part of (which, ok, is actually none in real life), and it includes feisty nuns. So while Jane and Vincent’s plan may go wrong, those reading about it can’t lose.

I loved this story and I love Jane and Vincent. I’ve been known to roll my eyes at romance every now and again, but I could read about this couple forever. Neither of them is perfect, and they fight and struggle like everyone else. Romance isn’t nonstop perfection or the absence of conflict. That is exhausting and impossible. But their love seems true–true to life and true to each other.

Hopefully next week I’ll have some sketches inspired by the book. There were some lovely images, and I can’t really pass up the idea of decorating an apartment with magic.

I choose this book on my own and was not paid to write about it, but the links are affiliate.

titiana’s outfit from the haunted bookshop

titiana outfit from the haunted bookshop

Like everyone else who shopped at the haunted bookshop, Titiana charmed me. I wasn’t sure about her in the beginning. The 18-year-old arrives to her bookshop apprenticeship in a fur stole, after all, so can you really blame me–or her father–for making the mistake of thinking her frivolous?

But you learn in The Haunted Bookshop (by Christopher Morley) (Kindle here) not to judge a book by its cover. Things are not as they seem and the bookshop may be haunted by more than the spirits of great literature.

Mr. and Mrs. Mifflin run the store, called Parnassus at Home, and live above the second-hand shop. Roger Mifflin is as passionate about books as Titiana is beautiful, and he is delighted to take her on as an apprentice at the behest of Titiana’s father. Her father wants to get some of the finishing school nonsense out of Titiana’s head and fill it with books and hard work instead. An admirable goal, and Roger and Titiana are both excited to teach and be taught.

But even before Titiana arrives, things are strange in the little, crowded shop. An advertising man, Aubrey, stops in to meet Roger and ask for a chance at his business, and the two quickly become friendly. But after a particular book disappears and reappears from Roger’s shelves, Aubrey begins to suspect foul play in this queer place.

Although most of Brooklyn is basking in the peace after World War I ends, Aubrey, Titiana, and the Mifflins become caught up in mystery after mystery. Every character is delightful to spend time with, even Bock, the Mifflins’ terrier. Roger’s passion for books is contagious, and at less than 200 pages it was the perfect easy read as things settle down for me in Chicago.

I drew Titiana as she arrives for the first time to meet the Mifflins. She is much wealthier than her bookstore benefactors, and her expertly tailored clothes show off her figure and complement her coloring. She is wearing brown tweed, a fur stole, and tan spats–like a boss.

titiana from the haunted bookshop outfit painting

(I picked out this book on my own and wasn’t paid to write about it. The links are affiliate, though, so if you buy through my links I’ll receive a little bit of money.)