Guest Blog by Sonni de Soto

I am a broken person.

Fact is: you get to a certain age and everyone ends up at least a little damaged. That’s life. Your heart gets broken. The people you depend on disappoint you. Your dreams get lost or delayed. You get hurt and you end up hurting people you never meant to. Life so often grinds away at people, but living and growing is learning how to deal with and heal that damage, so you don’t end up harming yourself or others with those broken bits of yourself.

When I saw the submission call for Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers, I knew I wanted to write a twist on Beauty and the Beast because so little is ever said about the woman who placed that particularly cruel spell. I mean, she took this already bad-tempered, ill-mannered, unlikeable human and cursed him to look like a literal monster. Then she told him the only way he could fix it was to make someone fall in love with him. It’s a harshly impossible task. Why would someone do that? What was she thinking? Fairy godmothers, by archetypal nature, are story guides, characters meant to help heroes grow and learn. So how is this poor, cursed prince — not to mention the story — expected to make her impossible demand possible?

Most versions do this by introducing Beauty, this impossibly perfect being. She’s usually not just beautiful on the outside, but so inhumanly filled with patience, compassion, and forgiveness that she somehow transforms this uncouth beast from the inside out. Which is great for the beast, but seems like a lot to ask of a single person. It demands that she constantly sacrifice for and give to and always see the best in this character who really hasn’t done much to deserve it. Her love alone is expected to cure him. Except it’s incredibly unfair to expect our romantic partners to fix us. They are not our therapists or our saviors. They’re regular, normal, broken people who are just looking to find love and be loved in return. 

Honestly, a story’s hero should learn to fix themselves. They should want to become better, not for the sake of someone else, but for their own. Because, if your happily-ever-after can only be found through someone else… That just sounds like the making of a whole new curse. Because, what happens if that person leaves? Or if they never show up in the first place?

In my story “Face in the Mirror,” my beast’s Beauty never shows up, so how — without the help of a miraculously transformative love interest — can my beast ever hope to break the spell? And what will the fairy godmother who cast the curse do when she sees her spell, that was meant to help transform my beastly prince into a better person, go wasted? 
​
My story looks at this familiar tale, told countless times, and takes a self-improvement spin on it. It asks what makes a person truly monstrous. How does a person end up acting so much like a beast that they become one? And, if you could take the parts of yourself and your past that feel cursed and change them into qualities that you can love, flaws and all, would that be enough to break the most impossible of spells?

Guest Blog by Kim Malinowski
 
I created Flick, in “Flick the Fairy Godmother,” because I wanted the protagonist to look and especially feel like I do. In literature, and especially folklore and fantasy, I never see “flawed” characters that are not used as tropes. Characters who have disabilities are rarely, if ever, the main character. These characters are killed off, used as comedic relief, or are somehow “magically cured” at the end. At the very best, these characters become “normal.” Flick is like me. We cannot be “cured” but we can be aided, and our symptoms can be treated. Flick succeeds not just because of her berries and honeysuckle milk, but because she has the inner strength that living with a long-term disability creates. She struggles every second of every day and is shunned by Fae society as “other.” She is awkward and sometimes improper but is always authentic to herself and the world around her. She has doubts and she is not magically cured at the end of the story.
 
In The Wizard of Oz, my personal childhood favorite, The Scarecrow, Tin Man, and The Lion, all find themselves “cured” or at the very least, recognize that they were never flawed to begin with. Flick doesn’t have that realization that she needs a brain or a heart or courage. She does not find them when a “non-flawed” character shows her that she has already has these traits or gives them to her. She does not fight nimbly, but still fights. She decides to believe in her dreams and fully form herself into a nonconventional Fairy Godmother. Flick decides that it is okay to struggle as a Fairy Godmother and that she is flawed and that too is okay. She will leave the battle and still have her internal struggles. She will still have mood swings and panic attacks. She will still have to change her berries when they no longer work.
 
Flick will show the world that it is okay to take medication. It is okay to struggle to get up in the morning, dreading the feelings and the world—but it also shows that she does get up. She can get up. The struggle is hard, and the world can be uncaring. It is necessary for those of us who suffer to get up and do the best that we can. We deal with hard feeling and awkward interactions, but in doing so, we find that we are the heroes in our own stories.
 
Flick is my mirror. She was able to go from completely unable to function to becoming a warrior Fairy Godmother. I might not ever be that type of warrior, but I get up every day. I worry about everything from my dimples to global affairs and either and everything in between can trigger a panic attack. But Flick moves through her daily rituals as do I, and sometimes we go up insurmountable mountains. I tell people that ask for advice, that we must learn to swerve and not just climb straight up the mountain. It might take us longer, but we still reach the peak. Flick shows that it is okay to have a disability. It is okay to struggle. But also, that it is up to us to decide that we are going on the journey.

Guest Blog by Lynden Wade
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The fairy godmother as a kind and powerful old woman doesn't feature in many of the classic fairytales that are currently canon. Yet she certainly captured the imagination of writers of the nineteenth century, who took the wonder and beauty of the old stories and wove new tales of love and laughter. Here are three examples I love, in ascending order for the role the godmother plays. At the end of the post are details of where you can read them.

​The Wonderful Rose, by Netta Syrett
 
The main character in this story is a prince who is discontent with his rather privileged life. His fairy godmother has clearly been spoiling him, as she's brought him many presents over the years, none of which has helped him much, and she half realises this:
 
"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed the old lady; for she had ancient forms of speech. "And so, young man, you are not happy, I hear? What are princes coming to, I should like to know?"
 
Her irritation with the younger generation is fun to read, but she isn't a good deal of use to him. She does give him another gift, that of understanding the language of animals and flowers, and this is crucial later for his growth into a wiser, less selfish young man. But the one whose wisdom sends him on the journey that both helps him grow and leads him to his heart's desire is not the fairy godmother at all but the Wise Woman, who lives in a cave in the heart of the forest. It's tempting to argue that these two women are manifestations of the same goddess, but I doubt if that was Syrett's intention. The fairy godmother, judging from her sniffy response to the prince, where she simply puts into words the prince's father's doubts about the boy, is firmly in the royal court, and it might be that she didn't actually anticipate how life-changing her most recent gift would be. It almost certainly wouldn't have brought him his heart's desire on its own, because he needed to leave all the comfort behind and take a hard journey to win that.
 
Read this tale for the frustrated conversations between the members of the older generation, then love it for its wisdom, as the prince makes an astonishing discovery at the end.

​The Magic Wishbone, by Charles Dickens
 
Dickens has good fun with fairytale tropes here. The royal family in this story is not rich at all; the king works like a clerk and struggles to make ends meet with his seventeen children. The good fairy Grandmarina wears shot silk and smells of dried lavender. She gives a magic wishbone to the oldest girl, Alice, who holds onto it despite various small family disasters, until it comes to the right moment for making a wish that solves all their problems. Grandmarina appears at the end to remind the king that she was right in entrusting the bone to his daughter, not him. Then she whisks Alice off to a marriage which I hope is simply a ceremony at this point, as earlier clues suggest she is seven, though her prince seems the same age.
 
Read it for the fun way in which the fairy godmother puts the king down. It was especially designed, I'm sure, to delight Victorian children who were constantly told to be good and quiet, but we can all enjoy the adventures of this harassed but ultimately delightful family.

​A Toy Princess, by Mary de Morgan
 
In a way, this fairytale is quite grim compared to the ones we've looked at so far, not for nastiness like red-hot shoes or the cutting-off of toes (Snow White and Cinderella in Grimm) but for the forbidding atmosphere in the court in which the young Princess Ursula grows up. But that's the whole point: she's a fish out of water and very unhappy. Luckily, her mother's godmother is on the lookout, and takes her away to grow up with a fisherman and his wife in a plain, loving household. The real fun here is the godmother Taboret's resourcefulness in replacing the princess with an automaton, which she commissions off a magician after haggling with him. Ursula's father and his court much prefer the automaton to the real princess. When Taboret brings the princess back on coming of age, and reveals the deception, the courtiers are quite shocked, and don't like the real princess at all. Taboret's solution is ingenious and Ursula gets the happy ending she needs.
 
Read this beautiful story not just for the very active, intelligent and clever godmother, whose role is equal to the princess's, but also for the way Taboret demonstrates that the automaton is a sham. And then ponder the theme. De Morgan wrote it to show how Victorian manners repressed the spirit. But we can read it in a wider way today, a tale that shows how tempting it can be for us to manipulate people into fitting in with our idea of right behaviour, rather than accepting them for who they are.

The Wonderful Rose, by Netta Syrett
It was part of the collection "A Garden of Delights", now sadly out of print. However, it is part of the collection "A Book of Princes" selected by Christopher Sinclair-Stevenson, still available to buy online.
 
The Magic Wishbone, by Charles Dickens
Read it online here.
https://www.storyberries.com/fairy-tales-the-magic-fishbone-by-charles-dickens/
 
A Toy Princess, by Mary de Morgan
Read it online here.
 https://www.shortstoryproject.com/stories/a-toy-princess/

by Kate Wolford

She’s tall and elegant, or tiny with a dowager’s hump. Maybe she’s dressed for a soirée at Versailles or she’s a tired-looking poor old woman who asks nothing more than to have a drink of fresh water from a well. She has many faces, and is often not even a “she,” as men are sometimes cast in this role.

This fabled creature is, as you’ve already guessed, the fairy godmother. We remember her best as the generous fairy who dresses Cinderella and handles transportation while she’s at it. But that’s just the most famous fairy godmother’s tale. Baba Yaga is a fairy godmother with a sense of rough justice, rewarding good heroines with what they need to prevail. The fairies in “Diamonds and Toads” and Mother Holle stories are in the vein of Baba Yaga, as they punish unkind young women as equally as they reward their kindly sisters.

With just a little more imagination, you’ll find that fairy godmothers/fathers abound in other tales in a less obvious way. I consider Rumpelstiltskin to be a highly misunderstood fairy godfather. He wants a child, and we don’t know that a baby wouldn’t be better off with him or the baby’s actual parents: A terrified mother who was willing to bargain away a future child to save her own life and a greedy father who was willing to kill a hapless miller’s daughter if she couldn’t produce the gold he wanted.

Then there’s the fairy in “Beauty and the Beast,” who ultimately creates a beautiful future for the haughty, vain young prince she makes a beast. You could also argue that the little fellows from “The Elves and the Shoemaker” are fairy godfathers, as they create a prosperous future for the very grateful shoemaker, who, in turn, gifts them with clothes.

The appeal of the fairy godmother/father lies in our wish that someone might appear, and, with a tap of a jewel-encrusted wand, transform our lives with money, status and great clothes. Better yet, the stories appeal to our sense that someone might notice our own good deeds and reward them, as far too many of us do feel that in this tough old world, no good deed goes unpunished.

Yet I think that there is greater appeal in being the magical godparent. What a joy to transform the lives of others with a simple gesture. What a thrill to know you’ve helped make someone’s dreams come true. The good news is, most of us have fairy godparents of a sort, even if they aren’t truly magical, for many people transform our lives with simple generosity and kindness.

Perhaps you’ve been in the position to give a neighbor kid the chance to build a lawn care business. Or, you’re the teacher who saw through a sullen student’s mask and suggested books that made her really think for the first time. Or you’re the aunt or uncle who allowed a nephew to stay with you for his senior year of high school so he wouldn’t have to move away from friends. Maybe you’ve befriended a lonely senior citizen who’s now part of your extended family.

In any case, the magic of transformation and support is interwoven throughout our lives, and we usually don’t even realize it. Luckily, the authors in this anthology have channeled magic and found gold, and you’ll see that these dozen stories will enchant you and inspire your dreams.

In “Wishes to Heaven,” Michelle Tang mixes a fairy godmother in truly unusual form with a pregnant woman who loves her husband and her life with him, but is in dire need of help in the most basic ways. The path Tang takes to manage the story is fascinating and, frankly, unique in my reading experience.

In “A Story of Soil and Stardust,” Kelly Jarvis takes us to snowy Russia, and interweaves fairy godmothering, family dynamics and justice, with a special doll and an appealing protagonist to make for a delightful read that sweeps you away. And the dynamics between sisters is riveting in Jarvis’s story.

“Real Boy” by Marshall J. Moore is another sweeping story that takes a familiar fairy tale and spins it into a saga of creation, flight, loss and confusion with a satisfying ending. The best thing I can say about this engrossing story is that it was inspired by my least favorite fairy tale. That Moore could overcome my antipathy to the inspiration for his work is testimony to the quality of the story.

Lynden Wade takes us into what it’s like to be a fairy godmother in “Returning the Favor.” You’ll fall in love with the fairy godmother in this story, who is wise and loving. And you’ll get a peek into what happens to a fairy godmother’s charge after the “happily ever after.” Most of all, you’ll be startled by the form of the fairy godmother. It all works.

Elise Forier Edie brings wit, adventure, humor and exasperation in “My Last Curse.” The ambitions of a too-hopeful and overly controlling Queen make this story great fun to read. And our protagonist is a delightfully sassy fairy in a very unusual form. (Fairy godmothers in unusual forms is a terrific theme in this anthology.) It’s all good fun. Forier Edie’s work has appeared in other anthologies I’ve edited, and you’ll see why when you read “My Last Curse.”

“Face in the Mirror” by Sonni de Soto explores “Beauty and the Beast” from a surprising vantage point, with engrossing results. I don’t want to ruin the story for you by saying which other fairy tale it reflects, but I can say that making friendship rather than romantic love the basis for this entertaining and heartwarming story was the best choice.

Vivica Reeves weaves loss, love, snow and warmth together artfully in “Forgetful Frost.” The pain of loss and the intensity of true love and parental dedication made this an unforgettable story. Reeves’ words get you in the gut in the best possible way, and the protagonist is an especially touching character.

Carter Lappin’s “Modern Magic” is a candy-colored slice of fun involving lattes, smart phones, garbage and bunny slippers. Sounds fun, right? It is fun. You’ll enjoy the modern fairy godmother and her protégée as well as the many charming touches that make this story a light and entertaining read.

“In the Name of Gold” by Claire Noelle Thomas, takes us through the deep pain and sacrifice of one of the most beloved fairy tales. The power of ink and quill and true love and friendship make this story shine like gold, and in the end, you’ll feel you know the story Thomas’s work is based on in a new and unforgettable way.

Maxine Churchman’s “Of Wishes and Fairies” spins elements like a lost princess and a loving foster mother with the trials and errors of a brand-new fairy godmother to create a sweet and satisfying tale with a happy ending—which is just the ending it should have. You’ll enjoy the fun and lightheartedness of this story.

Kim Malinowski’s “Flick: The Fairy Godmother” blends struggles with anxiety with household chores, serious battles and a titular heroine who is always doing her best despite the challenges she faces. You’ll remember Flick, and the brews she ingests to make herself feel better long after you’ve finished reading her story.

“The Venetian Glass Girl,” by Abi Marie Palmer rounds out this delightful dozen with a story of exquisite craftsmanship, envy, skullduggery and bigotry into a highly readable and satisfying story that takes you to Venice and its canals as well as a glassblower’s workshop. You’ll be swept away.

Before I sign off, there are some people I’d like to thank: Sarena Ulibarri, editor-in-chief of World Weaver Press, who is gracious in the face of the challenges that beset me during every book I edit. Amanda Bergloff, who is essential to my sanity at Enchanted Conversation: A Fairy Tale Magazine, was a great help with editing and formatting the manuscript for this book, and I am most grateful for that.

My husband and daughter, and her family, are always great sources of inspiration and love in every creative endeavor I take on, and this book is no exception. My grandson Ben gives me a great incentive to put together books that he will someday enjoy. I thank them all.

Finally, the readers and writers at Enchanted Conversation make me want to do my best because their love of fairy tales and folklore rivals my own, and they have my gratitude.
​
May this book bring you as much joy as a tap of the wand from your fairy godmother.

Kate Wolford is a writer, editor, and blogger living in the Midwest. Fairy tales are her specialty. Previous books include Beyond the Glass Slipper: Ten Neglected Fairy Tales to Fall in Love With, Krampusnacht: Twelve Nights of Krampus, Frozen Fairy Tales, and Skull and Pestle: New Tales of Baba Yaga all published by World Weaver Press. She was the founder of Enchanted Conversation: A Fairy Tale Magazine, at fairytalemagazine.com.

Your wish has been granted! Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers is out in ebook and paperback today, April 19, 2022. These stories flip traditional fairy tales on their heads to show the story from the point of view of the fairy godmother herself. (Or, the fairy godfather himself.) Some are set in the modern day, like "Modern Magic" by Carter Lappin which features a Starbucks-drinking Basic Godmother helping a young woman impress at her high school reunion; some are set in a historical period, like "The Venetian Glass Girl" by Abi Marie Palmer which takes us to the moon-drenched canals of nineteenth-century Venice. Still others mix a way-back setting with a modern sensibility, like "My Last Curse" by Elise Forier Edie, in which the fairy godmothers play a centuries-long game to fight the fairy godfathers.

Click here to listen to some of the authors read an excerpt from their stories, and look below to find a link to your favorite online bookseller. You can always request a copy through your local independent bookstore, or request that your library order a copy!

We remember her best as the generous fairy who dresses Cinderella and handles transportation while she’s at it. But that’s just the most famous fairy godmother’s tale. With a little imagination, you’ll find that fairy godmothers and godfathers appear in many varied forms. The authors in this anthology have crafted new tales that re-imagine the fairy godmother and her role.
 
A young fairy grapples with imposter syndrome as she takes up her new appointment as godmother. Immortal sisters bestow blessings and curses on princesses as a way to battle the patriarchal fairy godfathers. A struggling artist receives a godmother’s help to impress at her high school reunion. Sparing the life of a moth leads to magical help from an unexpected protector.
 
Retellings of Pinocchio, Rumpelstiltskin, Beauty and the Beast, and The Frog Prince show the magic of these stories in a whole new light. Infused with modern sensibilities but honoring the tradition of fairy tales, these dozen stories will enchant and inspire you.

Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers will be available in ebook and paperback April 19, 2022! Pre-order at the links below, and add to your Goodreads shelf here.

Table of Contents

“Wishes to Heaven” by Michelle Tang
“A Story of Soil and Stardust” by Kelly Jarvis
“Real Boy” by Marshall J. Moore
“Returning the Favor” by Lynden Wade
“My Last Curse” by Elise Forier Edie
“Face in the Mirror” by Sonni de Soto
“Forgetful Frost” by Vivica Reeves
“Modern Magic” by Carter Lappin
“In the Name of Gold” by Claire Noelle Thomas
“Of Wishes and Fairies” by Maxine Churchman
“Flick: The Fairy Godmother” by Kim Malinowski
“The Venetian Glass Girl” by Abi Marie Palmer

What do you get when you take the high tech/low life settings of cyberpunk and sprinkle them with the magic and possibilities of fairy tales? Trolls under teleportation bridges, masquerades held in virtual reality, princely avatars, giants and dwarves alongside hackers and androids. From retellings of traditional tales such as Rumpelstiltskin, in which a young woman is tasked with writing code instead of spinning gold, to original tales like the changeling-inspired story of a formless machine intelligence that hijacks human bodies, these cyberpunk fairy tales form a unique collection that is sure to satisfy connoisseurs of both genres.

Original stories from Thomas Badlan, Suzanne Church, Beth Goder, Sarah Van Goethem, Nicola Kapron, V.F. LeSann, Angus McIntyre, Wendy Nikel, Ana Sun, Michael Teasdale, Alena Van Arendonk and Laura VanArendonk Baugh.

Trenchcoats, Towers, and Trolls: Cyberpunk Fairy Tales is out now in ebook and paperback!

We've slowed down our publications significantly, releasing only two books each in 2020 and 2021, and I was thrilled to see that all four of those titles appeared on this ​year's bestseller list! Also making an appearance on the list for the first time ever is the very first book we ever published: THE HAUNTED HOUSEWIVES OF ALLISTER, ALABAMA by Susan Abel Sullivan. We hosted an author interview and a sale for this book in August, which turned out to be only a month before the author's sudden passing. I'm glad we had the opportunity to shine some light on her work before she was gone, and I wish she were here to celebrate her place on this list. Check out our interview with Susan Abel Sullivan here.

We are proud to present this year's World Weaver Press Pushcart Prize nominations!

WWP published two anthologies in 2021, and have selected three stories from each. Scroll down to see the nominees, and reach an excerpt from the stories.

Congratulations to the authors, and best of luck in the final selection! For more on the Pushcart Prize, see their website here: ​www.pushcartprize.com/

First up, the three stories from Clockwork, Curses, and Coal: Steampunk and Gaslamp Fairy Tales, edited by Rhonda Parrish.

​The girls arrive in London at the dirigible docks or train station or (a lucky few) by direct carriage within the same week, a rather dreary one in April. Each makes her way to the designated hotel, where she is greeted at the door by a butler and staff hired to see to her every need and by the hotel matron hired to watch her every move.

Inside the grand lobby is a concentration of the modern splendors of the glorious Age of Artifice. Textiles, art, mechanized furniture of the highest quality, and cabinets full of exotic curiosities suffuse the space with their unusual patterns, bright colors, and symphony of clicks and whirs. Each girl passes by the objects with either awed or assessing glances, following the butler toward her room.
​
The house’s tasteful luxury is tipped over the edge into ostentation once the full chattering mass of young women—all wealthy, most socialites, some noble, a handful royal, and not a few the daughters of newly-great men of artifice—gathers in the ballroom on the day the contest is set to begin.

“I am implying only that something miraculous happened inside my child’s soul that night. It’s not something I built. But it’s not something of the Creator, either. It’s something in between; something straight from the beauty of their mind.”

There was a long pause. Then Marjorie said, “Is it okay if I think of them as two people?”

“No,” whispered Henrik.

“Yes,” said Gerta, quirking her metal jaw into a smirk.

“Mother wouldn’t have approved,” he said. “Of her or Papa’s intentions for her.”

“You mean as a new body for Mother’s dead soul?” Gerta rolled her eyes. “It didn’t work the last sixteen times, and it won’t work this one. We’ve nothing to worry about.”
​
“Who’s worrying?” he said softly. “I’m just wondering what she’d think of being another of Papa’s experiments.”

The train chugs into Aldermoor during the night. Jane Windlass stands at her window, watching, a spectre in her white nightgown, her warm fingertips making ovals on the cold glass. She heard the steam trumpet moments before, like always. Every night, trains trundle in and out of Aldermoor, but tonight is different. Jane’s eyes snapped open, her limbs tensed, rigid. She’s been waiting all this time. Waiting and waiting and waiting. For days and weeks and months and years.
How long has it been since she last saw them? The thought weaves a thread of guilt just under her ribs, plucking at her heart. She gave up counting. At some point she stopped totalling the days and resumed her life.

Without them.

Without her sisters.

But now, finally, the time has come. The circus has arrived and Jane can just make out their forms through the smog-lined streets. There, in the distance, shadows deboarding. Mulling on the platform, clutching at bags, struggling under the weight of trunks.
​
The peculiars.

And next, our nominations from Multispecies Cities: Solarpunk Urban Futures, edited by Christoph Rupprecht, Deborah Cleland, Norie Tamura, Rajat Chaudhuri, and Sarena Ulibarri.

That evening, at sunset, as I sat where my bed would later be unfurled, the sky was brighter, as if colours that were unseen behind the day’s blazing blue pushed through the azure membrane to make everything splendid. I sang to the sky again, again in tunes unfamiliar until the moment it tumbled out of me as a sudden gurgling stream.
 
That’s when it happened. The sky sang back to me.

A star, five-pointed, like the marvels we spoke about
during Face-to-Face Communication Class,
appeared in the sky’s dome and sang to me. I don’t know exactly what it sang for it sang in star language, pulsing in crimson and pale yellow, pulsing, pulsing, but not fading away. We sang a duet, we sang a long long time, singing and singing back as if we were rocking a cradle of melodies.

Mishael was in-between, like me: not a tourist, not yet a local. She wasn’t one of the surfers that haunted the beaches, either; she was a normal person with an apartment and a job. Better than normal, really. She didn’t work in the tourist trade, which felt rare and special to me after a couple of months in Oahu’s service industry, but had a solid job as an electrician. Plus, she did a little Parkour in her spare time, and had the physique to match: her body had a compact, graceful strength that put me in mind of both a wrestler and an acrobat.

I had started to hope that somehow, on this island of tourists, surfers, and locals who saw me as a transient, I might have found someone just for me.

Then, in the midst of a conversation about Hawai‘i’s slumbering volcanoes, Mauna Kea’s observatory had come up. And these words had come out of her mouth:
​
“You know the stars are fake, right?”

A currawong swooped from the rafters, charcoal wings slicing through the sunlight. Rhys sidestepped a myopic kiwi and stumbled over a pangolin as he entered the warehouse.

“Watch your step,” I said belatedly.

“Why is that kiwi out in daylight?”

“He’s an insomniac.”

All around us, fur rippled, feathers ruffled and scales glimmered in a glorious array of colours, although on closer inspection, some of the creatures bore a silvery sheen.

“My goodness,” said Rhys, “that’s not a Komodo dragon, is it?”
​
“No, giant salamander.” I wrestled the grinning amphibian back into the 3D scanner and flicked the switch to ‘motion capture’. At the edge of an artificial pond, a pair of red-crowned cranes engaged in a mesmerising mirror-dance, although only one of the cranes glimmered faintly silver.

​What tends to come first for you when you start to write: character, plot, an image, something else?

It actually varies from story to story. For some books, I come up with a brilliant (to me, at least!) character and just have to think of a way to fit them into the story. Sometimes I get a scene in my head, almost like an action sequence from a movie, and I try to figure out a way to move the plot so it can incorporate the scene. This doesn't always work, so I have a few, sadly, cut scenes in my folders. I think it's important to be flexible, as a writer. Characters change and evolve. Sometimes they go in directions you weren't expecting, so new ideas are always welcome.

What else have you published recently?

My most recent publication was a novella called "Traces" over at Beneath Ceaseless Skies, about a man who can find anything, who has, ironically, lost his memories. I wanted to write something with a Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell vibe, and hopefully came at least a little close. I also almost always have an essay or editor's note up at The Bethlehem Writers Roundtable.