Tag / fantasy

by booksoverlookedblog

Dec. 2025 Book Recs: Just Books I Liked


Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited.

Quick announcement before we begin: I’ve decided that I will not be doing book recommendation lists in 2026. Making these lists has been a great experience, and I’ve read a lot of excellent books that I might not have picked up otherwise. They’ve really helped me diversify my book shelves and read outside my comfort zone, and I hope they’ve done the same for you too. 

It’s also a lot of work. I don’t just read two books a month – I “sample” several, which usually means reading at least 100 pages. Most of the reading I’ve done for the past two years has been just for these recommendation lists, and it’s time to take a break and read…well, whatever I want. Maybe I’ll finally get around to Sunrise on the Reaping. This doesn’t mean that the blog is finished, though. I’ll still be doing “books I didn’t pick” and “dusty” titles, and hopefully more. I’d really love to do something about literature and theatre, and Shakespeare adaptations. (But have you ever read Shakespeare? It’s hard.) 

Let’s get into the final book recommendation list: Just Stuff I Liked. These are books that are worthy of sharing, but never made it onto a list before. Here are some of my favorite books in the last few years that never made it to the blog.

Nonfiction

Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich

First published in 2001, Nickel and Dimed has remained scarily relevant for over twenty years. Between 1998 and 2000, writer Barbara Ehrenreich voluntarily joined the ranks of the working poor. She worked as a maid, nursing home aid, waitress, and Wal-Mart associate to understand the lived realities of millions of Americans below the poverty line. This book documents her experiences and struggles, such as working through pain and finding housing within her budget. The experiment ended when Ehrenreich faced homelessness, or, as she put it, she could no longer afford to work at Wal-Mart. Along with issues with housing, she also looks at food insecurity, the impact of manual labor on employees’ health, and hiring practices that veer into discriminatory. While the numbers have changed since this book was published, the facts have not. Nickel and Dimed remains a revelatory must-read for Americans today. 

Her Space, Her Time: How Trailblazing Women Scientists Decoded the Hidden Universe by Shohini Ghose

Women have long been involved in scientific fields, but have rarely gotten acknowledged for their work until recent history. Her Space, Her Time finally gives some of these brilliant women their much overdue credit. In the late 19th Century, astronomer Annie Jump Cannon helped create Harvard’s Classification Scheme, which is still used today, while being paid less than her male counterparts. Lise Meitner and her nephew Otto Frisch published the first paper on nuclear fission. Meitner’s longtime collaborator Otto Hahn was awarded the Nobel Prize for this discovery, and Meitner was left in obscurity. We all know Marie Curie, but what about Harriet Brooks or Bibha Chowdhuri? Each chapter focuses on a different scientific top, such as astronomy, physics, or chemistry, and the women who helped revolutionize their fields of study. Ghose explains complex scientific concepts in an understandable way, perfect for science lovers who chickened out of taking physics in high school (read: me). I learned so much from this book, not only about science, but also about the phenomenal women who helped shape our understanding of the universe, from the smallest sub-atomic particles to the Big Bang.

The Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Explorating Into the Wonder of Consciousness  by Sy Montgomery


The intelligence and physiology of octopuses1 make them among the most fascinating animals on the planet. Naturalist Sy Montgomery was intrigued by octopus consciousness before she had the chance to meet one in person. At her casual visits to the aquarium, she felt that they were watching her as much as she was watching them. Montgomery first met the Pacific Octopus Athena, who eagerly latched on to Montgomery’s arm. Athena was strong enough to pull Montgomery into her icy tank, but instead was playful and curious. Thus began a series of octopus friends that Montgomery got to observe from their youth to death: Octavia, Kali, and Karma. Octopuses are highly intelligent animals that require toys and stimulation to keep them occupied; a bored octopus can be dangerous to itself and its handlers. They also have distinct personalities (Montgomery notes that Kali was aptly named) and strong emotions. Soul of an Octopus offers a compelling look at octopus consciousness both like and unlike our own. 

Patriot: A Memoir by Alexei Navalny

This story of Alexei Navalny’s life begins when he nearly died. While flying from Tomsk, Siberia to Moscow, he was poisoned with the nerve agent Novichok. He spent 18 days in a coma, and spent several months recovering in Berlin. Navalny knew who his would-be assassin was: Vladimir Putin. Navalny has been an outspoken critic of Putin’s regime and leader of the opposition party, the Anti-Corruption Foundation. He began writing his memoir while recovering from the poisoning, and ended it in prison. First is Navalny’s biography, where he recounts growing up before and after the fall of the Soviet Union and his education and early years as a lawyer. He writes about how he became the Russian opposition leader, and the dangerous and life-altering consequences for him and his family. One chilling chapter details Navalny returning to Russia after his poisoning, despite knowing that he will likely be arrested once he returns. The second half of the book is Navalny’s prison diaries and social media posts. He shares his experience in prison, including a hunger strike when he was denied medical care. The entries become sparser as his punishments in prison worsen, and Navalny would be killed in a prison above the Arctic Circle. Despite bleak circumstances, his writing never veers into self-pity or nihilism. Instead, he writes passionately about his work and condemns the invasion. Navalny also never loses his sharp sense of humor, adding some surprising moments of levity. While not an easy read, it is a powerful memorial and a stark reminder of how important it is to stand against authoritarianism. 

Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain by Oliver Sacks

Ah, music! Who doesn’t love a great song that you can sing along to? Well, if you have amusia, a symphony may sound like pots and pans banging together. Musical hallucinations are real, too, and can cause a great deal of distress. But many of us love music, and our brains do, too. Oliver Sacks, best known for his work The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat, takes a look into the good, the bad, and the utterly strange ways that music affects our brains. The book opens with the case of Tony Cicoria, a man who never had more than a casual interest in music. Then he was struck by lightning. Cicoria survived, but was struck by another passion: classical music. Within three months of his recovery, he was spending almost all of his time playing piano and composing music. His new obsession lasted decades. This is only one of the stories about the mysterious relationship between music and the human brain. Others include a man with amnesia whose memory lasts only seconds, but can still read and play music, a musician with severe Tourette’s whose tics diminish greatly only when he performs, among others. The therapeutic effects of music on people with Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s is shown as well. Sacks never turns these narratives into freak shows, but writes compassionately about the power of music and the mysteries of the human brain. 

Fiction

Gravity by Sarah Deming

Gravity Delgado is a force to be reckoned with. This young woman is a fierce, undefeated boxer, preparing for the 2016 Olympics in Rio. She’s been training since she was twelve, but her biggest challengers are the ones that she faces outside the ring. Her alcoholic mother, responsibilities for her younger brother, and a heady romance all threaten Gravity’s rising star. She still has her supportive aunt and cousin, as well as her found family at the gym in her corner. Still, Gravity’s biggest obstacle might be herself. The boxing matches are exciting to read, and include both the physical and mental aspects of a bout. Gravity makes mistakes and occasionally stumbles, but you’ll be cheering for her in and out of the ring. A novel that pulls no punches in the best way. 

The Truth About Everything by Bridget Farr

Fifteen-year-old Lark knows how to drive, fix an engine, and catch her own food, but she can barely read. She and her parents know the end is coming, and they’ll be the only ones left standing after the inevitable downfall of America. Raised by two doomsday preppers, Lark has never questioned the conspiracy theories that she was raised on. Then Lark gets her period for the first time. She thinks that she’s miscarrying, something that has happened to her mother many times before, but doesn’t know how she could have gotten pregnant in the first place. After her mother explains what her period is, Lark starts to wonder what else her parents haven’t told her? Lark secretly enrolls herself in high school, where new knowledge conflicts with everything she’s been taught at home. She’s hungry to learn, even when it means uncovering painful truths. But soon, Lark finds herself at a crossroads. What is the real truth? And what will Lark have to sacrifice for it? Pairs well with Educated by Tara Westover. 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

Once every ten years, the Dragon takes a village girl into his tower in the corrupt Wood. When she leaves a decade later, with jewels and finery, she is irrevocably changed and leaves the village forever. But the Dragon isn’t a scaly creature that breathes fire. He is a seemingly ageless, enigmatic wizard. Agnieszka has no fear of being taken. The Dragon only takes the most remarkable young ladies, and she’s nothing special. Though no one says it, everyone believes that Kasia, Agnieszka’s best friend, will be the one he picks. Yet it is Agnieszka the Dragon, reluctantly on his part. She is a witch, and her newly-found powers could be devastating if the corruption of the Wood reaches her. Agnieszka and the Dragon have a rocky start, but their mutual dislike of each other must be put aside when the Wood threatens her home. The well-developed characters, rich, Eastern European-inspired setting, and fantastic storytelling will leave you spellbound. 

The Tea Dragon Society by K. O’Neil

Half-human, half-goblin Greta is an apprentice blacksmith in a world where the old crafts are fading. Greta helps a lost tea dragon – a small dragon that grows tea leaves – find its caretakers, and she is introduced to the Tea Dragon Society. Like blacksmithing, the care and cultivation of tea dragons is a dying art. The Tea Dragon Society is made up now only of Hesekiel, his partner Erik, and a shy girl named Minette. As a year passes, Greta learns to care for the dragons alongside Minette, assuring Hesekiel that the Tea Dragon Society will go on. I’ve enjoyed O’Neil’s other graphic novels, and The Tea Dragon Society embodies so much of what I love about their work. The artwork is soft, with no heavy outlines, adding to the whimsical feel of the world. It features a diverse cast in a simple but visually beautiful story. The Tea Dragon Society is the graphic novel equivalent of sliding into a warm bubble bath…maybe with a nice cup of tea. 

Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds

Will’s older brother, Shawn, has just been murdered. Will knows the rules of his neighborhood: don’t cry, don’t snitch, always get revenge. Will takes Shawn’s gun, and take the elevator from his eighth-floor apartment down to the first floor. The doors open on the seventh floor, and Shawn’s friend Buck gets on. Except Buck shouldn’t be here – he was already shot to death. On each floor, another ghost gets on. All of them played a role in Will’s life, and all of them were victims of gun violence. Each tells Will their stories, challenging his resolve. Can he kill his brother’s killer? Should he? This is a short, intense novel in verse that will stay with you long after you turn the final page.  

  1. Yes, that is the correct pluralization. Octopodes is acceptable, octopi is right out.  ↩︎

by booksoverlookedblog

Oct. 2025 Recs: Tasty Tales


Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

Little blog update: there won’t be a book list in November, since I’m traveling for most of this month. 

Welcome to October! 

 I’d originally planned to make a list featuring some more scary stories, but after several tough weeks, I decided to focus on something lighter and tastier: food! Have you ever thought about how the things we eat affect our lives? Wondered about how it got on your plate? Did you know you’ve probably only eaten a single banana species your entire life? Or maybe you’re more interested in trying new foods, or expressing yourself through the culinary arts. Food is an important part of everyone’s lives, and that’s what this book list is all about. Get your favorite fall treats and dive into some delicious reads. 

Nonfiction

Eating to Extinction: The World’s Rarest Foods and Why We Need to Save Them by Dan Saladino

This is one of my favorite books that I’ve read in the last couple years. Saladino travels the globe to find and taste the rarest foods in the world: wild honey in Tanzania, the hardy Scottish grain bere, the rare black Korean chicken Yeonsan Oyge (literally all black, including its bones), and many others. Each chapter focuses on a different rare food while also offering deep dives on food and agricultural history. It looks at how scientific processes like selective breeding and gene editing have helped create our diets today, and shows the efforts to preserve diverse and traditional foods today. Throughout the book, Saladino expresses the need for more genetic diversity in our current food systems. For example, the Cavendish banana, which is probably the only type of banana you’ve ever eaten, is incredibly vulnerable to disease because it can only be produced by cloning. Eating to Extinction weaves history, science, culture, and economics together to create an utterly fascinating book. I was totally hooked by the first chapter, which shows how the loss of wild honey affects not only the Hadza people who rely on it as a major part of their diets, but the honeyguide as well, a bird that leads humans to bee colonies. I highly recommend this one to anyone who eats food.

Fiction

Celestial Banquet by Roselle Lim

Once in a generation, the Major Gods announce the Celestial Banquet. In this delicious and deadly competition, cooks from across the Continent come to serve the gods sumptuous dishes made with fantastical ingredients. The winning team will receive peaches of immortality, which can extend one’s life or be sold for riches beyond their wildest dreams. Headstrong Cai is a noodle chef, and certain she has what it takes to win the peaches. After proving her worth to the raggedy Minor God Kama, she heads to the capitol with him, her crush Seon, and taciturn protector Tala. Once there, Cai is in for the challenge of her life, gathering dangerous ingredients and cooking for the capricious gods Luck, Temperance, and Indulgence. The novel draws from Southeast Asian folklore and cuisine, and includes some drool-worthy descriptions of fantasy dishes. It hits on familiar YA tropes with varied success (the romance sub-plot feels very flat), but the adventure and competition is a lot of fun to read.

by booksoverlookedblog

Sep. 2025 Book Recs.: Hispanic Heritage Month

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

And we’re back! Thank you to everyone who read my work for Flash Fiction Month.

September marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month! Hispanic Heritage Month celebrates the achievement, culture, and traditions of Latinx Americans of Mexican, Central American, South American, Caribbean, and Spanish ancestry.

Hispanic Heritage Month officially begins on September 15, and goes until October 15. The mid-month start date is because many Hispanic countries declared their independence from Spain in September. Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua all declared independence on September 15, 1821. Mexico declared its independence on September 16, 1810, and Chile did so on September 18, 1810. Over 150 years later, years later, Belize would declare independence from Great Britain on September 21, 1981.

Nonfiction: Finding Latinx: In Search of the Voices Redefining Latin Identity by Paola Ramos

What does it mean to be Latinx? For journalist Paola Ramos, “Latinx” covers who she is: Latina, Cuban, Mexican, and American. But who are the millions of Americans who identify as Latinx? Ramos traveled across the United States to find out. She met with farmworkers in California, old friends in Miami, and Indigenous Maya communities in the Southern United States. She shares an iftar meal with Latinx Muslims in Washington, D.C. and cheers on an undocumented drag queen competing in the Miss Gay America pageant in Missouri. Ramos even sits down with Enrique Tarrio to try to understand what drove this Afro-Latinx man to the White supremacist group, The Proud Boys. (Note: Tarrio’s role in the Jan. 6 attacks is not mentioned. This book was published in 2020, and this chapter was likely written prior to the event.) Ramos gives readers a snapshot of the rich diversity of Latinx people in the United States, from the every day to the extraordinary. 

Fiction: The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina by Zoraida Córdova

Orquídea Montoya’s living descendants receive a mysterious message from the matriarch of the family: I am dying. Come and collect your inheritance. When the family gathers at the homestead in Four Rivers, but instead of dying, Orquídea transforms into a ceiba tree. Two of Orquídea’s grandchildren, Rey and Marimar, are left with flowers growing out of their bodies, as is Orquídea’s great-granddaughter, Rhiannon. The family is left with more questions than answers, with Marimar pondering Orquídea’s parting words: protect your magic. When a mysterious force begins tearing through the Montoyas, the family travels to Ecuador, Orquídea’s birthplace, searching for answers. Orquídea’s history unfolds in alternating chapters, with her story dovetailing beautifully with her descendents’ during the climax. This is an intergenerational story of magic, monsters, and family secrets coming to light. And if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you’ll see it has something rare: an omniscient narrator that I actually liked. 

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 31: Defiance

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. This story is a companion piece to FFM 5: Guardian of the Gate. More notes at the end of the story.

This is also the last day of FFM! All my stories will be up through the month of August, after which some of them will be taken down. I also won’t have any posts in August, as I’ll be hibernating. Thank you for reading!

Rage. My rage is so loud it drowns out my sorrow. Screams and sobs become one noise, the sound of pure grief, spilling out of my tortured throat. I would tear down the world, wrestle Thanatos to the ground, spit in Hades’s face. I would defy the gods and return my family to my side. Grief is a weapon more powerful than death, and I am a sharpened blade. 

I cannot defy the gods. Every man has faced grief, and no man has brought the dead back to walk in the sun again. Even attempting to bring my wife and child back to the world of the living is unnatural. We are born, we live, we die. Should I try to break this most unbreakable law, what I have left of my life will be mired in torment. 

What I have left is a hut along the river that took my family from me. I have nothing. Nothing that matters without them. Food has no taste. Nothing brings me joy. My bed is empty; my life is empty. If I defy Hades, I cannot win. I know this. But without my family, I have no reason to continue living. For their sakes, I will defy death itself.

WE’RE DOOOOOOOOONE.

This was the final challenge of FFM. I didn’t follow it to the letter (please don’t eat me mighty Hydra), but it was to write an inversion of your last story. Instead of doing that, I wrote an inversion of my Cerberus story, this time from the point of view of the guy trapped under Cerberus’s foot. I wasn’t happy with my 369er, since every paragraph should be a story in itself, and that wasn’t the case of the Cerberus story. So I tried it here, while still trying to do the id-superego-ego combo.

And now I’m going to sleep for a month. Wake me up when September starts.

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 29: The Shadow and the Shield

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. This is the direct sequel to FFM 27: Sleepless in Tír na nÓg. More notes at the end of the story.

Gráinne ran at her trainer, thrusting forward with her rapier. He easily parried the blow. “You’re being too obvious, Your Highness.”

She glowered and took a step back. “Fair.”

Scurry, her trainer was a svelte man with a busy red tail and fingers with an extra knuckle, lowered his sword. “You can’t let your emotions rule you on the battlefield, Ma’am.”

“I know.” She shook out her arm and resumed her stance. “Again.” 

He tipped his head one way, then the other. “No, I don’t think this will help you today. I think you need to hit something.” 

“I am hitting something,” Gráinne said through gritted teeth. 

Scurry’s tail waved playfully. “You haven’t managed to land a single hit on me yet. You’re a pixie in a tankard of ale.”

The comparison was not a flattering one. She was flailing with no real purpose, and couldn’t manage to get herself out of what she’d fallen into. But, unlike a pixie, Gráinne actually wanted to get out. 

“Again,” she demanded. 

“Very well,” Scurry said with a sigh. 

They sparred for two minutes more, until Scurry disarmed Gráinne and knocked her on her arse. He chittered, disappointed, then offered the princess a hand. “Let’s take a break. Then we’ll work on something new.”

“Fine.” Gráinne sheathed her sword and went to the wooden benches that ringed the practice yard. Unsurprisingly, Alex was sitting next to her gear “What are you doing here?” She snapped. 

“Waiting for you,” he told her. 

“And you couldn’t wait in the castle?” Gráinne took several gulps from her waterskin. “Find something to do with Uncle Lex.” 

Alex shook his head. “He had to help in the medical wing.” 

That explained it. Alex had never liked the medical wing, a dislike that had turned to dread since the war began. Uncle Lex, who’d been trained in both magical and mundane healing, was often called there on his visits to the castle. With their parents gone at the moment, Alex had few options for someone to tail. 

“Will you please stop following me?” Gráinne turned her back to him. 

“But Gráina…” He tugged on the hem of her tunic. 

She spun around and slapped him. “I said go away! How hard is it for you to just go away?”

This time, Alex listened. He ran back to the castle, holding his stinging cheek while tears ran down his face. 

Uncle Lex was called in for negotiations. The agreed upon course of action was bed with no supper for Gráinne, and a talk with Alex about “alone time,” for both Gráinne and himself. 

“We all need to be by ourselves sometimes,” Uncle Lex told the prince, while silently giving thanks that he didn’t have children. “I know you like to be with people, and I know that things are scary right now. It’s okay to be scared. But when your sister tells you she needs some space, you need to listen. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Alex looked down at his feet. “Okay.”

“Good.” Uncle Lex smiled at his nephew, and namesake. “I need to visit the library. Do you want to go with me, or go to your room for a little bit?” 

It was a hard decision: a room with nothing but books, or being left alone? After a minute, Puck said, “Can you find me another book about electricity?” 

“Can do.” 

“And read Caps for Sale and do funny voices?” 

Uncle Lex smiled. “Of course.” 

Later, when Alex was totally absorbed in a book about circuits, Uncle Lex went to check on his niece. She had flung herself on her bed and was crying. 

“Gráinne, I brought you supper.” Uncle Lex sat at the foot of her bed with a plate of battered fish and mashed potatoes. 

Gráinne sat up slowly. She wiped her cheeks and sniffed. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to have supper.” 

“You’re a growing girl. But no dessert.” 

Gráinne accepted the plate and silverware from her uncle. “Thanks.” She didn’t eat right away, but stared sullenly at her food. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Uncle Lex put his hand on top of her head. “But it happened. Do you know why?” 

Tears swam in Gráinne’s eyes again. “Why can’t he learn to fight? Why do I have to?” 

“You don’t have to. You like to. Your brother doesn’t like it, and he’s not very good at it, so he doesn’t have to,” Uncle Lex said. 

“But if he could fight then maybe–” she hiccuped. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to protect him and…” 

Realization dawned over Uncle Lex. “And maybe he wouldn’t have fallen?” 

Gráinne nodded, tears falling from her chin. “I couldn’t protect him, and…and…”

Uncle Lex put his arm around his niece’s shoulders. “You did the best you could.” 

“But it wasn’t enough and we were only at the ruins ‘cause I wanted to go and…” She threw herself down on the bed, hiding her face in her pillow.

“Shh…shhh. It’s okay.” Uncle Lex rubbed her back. “You saved him, and you’re both safe. That’s the most important thing.” He gave Gráinne another minute to cry. When she finally raised her head and caught her breath, he said, “He feels safe with you. That’s why he follows you around so much.” 

Gráinne tipped her head to get a better look at her uncle. “You think so?”

“I know so.” 

Night fell, and with it came Alex’s nightmares. 

But when he woke up gasping, Gráinne was there, with a wooden sword in hand. She didn’t have the right words like her parents always seemed to, but she held up her sword so he could see it in the pale crystal light. “Go back to sleep,” she said. “I’ll keep all your nightmares away.”

Another challenge day!

CHALLENGE: IDIOMATIC

Element 1: Your story must contain an idiom or idiomatic expression; by which we mean an expression that is used non-literally. Confused? You’ll probably recognize some examples here.

Element 2: Your expression must be entirely made up.

A pixie in a tankard of ale = flailing, but not trying to hard to get out of the current situation. Fantasy lends itself very well to new idioms.

Other FFM stories from this universe:

FFM 3: Love is a Battlefield
FFM 8: Queen of Nothing
FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science
FFM 18: The Goddess in the River
FFM 24: Summer Blues

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 27: Sleepless in Tír na nÓg

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

The queens hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over a month. No queen ever slept easy when their country was at war, but Fiadh and Mairead had another problem keeping them awake. A small, squirmy blond problem named Alexander. 

He’d always been a happy child, with a ready smile and a musical laugh. But then he’d fallen, and that cheerful, confident boy disappeared. It wasn’t surprising. He’d witnessed something that no child should see, trapped and alone. 

After that, Alex refused to be left alone for even a few minutes. When his mothers couldn’t spend time with him, he trailed behind his sister, Grainne. And if she couldn’t be with him, he’d go to the kitchens or follow the pages as they did their duties. 

Every night, Alex drank soporific tea to help him sleep. He would fall asleep peacefully in his own bed, then wake up screaming. The only way he could fall asleep again was snuggled between his parents, safe. 

It was getting to be a problem. 

Alex kicked in his sleep. He rolled. He slept sideways. 

And he still had nightmares. 

There was a tea for dreamless sleep, but it was a powerful blend, too stong for a child. If Alex drank too much, there was a chance that he’d be asleep for days. Fiadh had remarked that she and Mairead should down a few cups and actually get some rest. 

Then there was the matter of Grainne. She’s always been a serious girl, but she’d become sullen. She trained from dawn til dusk with any weapon she could get her hands on. She threw herself into magic practice, especially geomancy, which she’d always struggled with. 

As much as Fiadh and Mairead had tried to shield Alex and Gráinne from the war, it had found its way to them. And its touch had changed their children irrevocably. 

Things came to a head at breakfast one morning. “Mam and I need to leave for a few days,” Mairead announced. Alex and Gráinne looked up sharply. 

“We’re meeting with some potential allies,” Fiadh told them. 

“You can’t do that here?” Gráinne frowned. 

“This group hasn’t exactly been friendly with us in the past. It’s better to meet them on neutral ground,” Fiadh replied, then stabbed her sausage with such force that her fork scraped the bottom of her plate. 

“Better to have strange bedfellows than no bedfellows,” Mairead said. “Especially now. Uncle Lex is going to come stay with you for a few days.” 

Normally, they would have loved this. Uncle Lex spoiled the kids rotten and was something of a mischief-enabler for Alex. But at this announcement, Gráinne shoved her chair away from the table. “I’m going to the practice yard.” 

“Sit for a minute. Let’s talk about this,” Mairead started, but the princess was already gone. 

“I’ll grab her,” Fiadh offered, then started after Gráinne. 

Mairead looked across the table at Alex. He’d been voracious before, but now he stared at the food on his plate as if it were made of stone. “You know you’re safe here, right? Nothing will ever hurt you here. And Uncle Lex will keep you both safe.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. 

“Do you really hafta go?” Alex asked, still staring at his meal. 

“I can’t let Mam go alone. But I will miss you and your sister terribly, even if it’s only for a few days.” 

“Then don’t go.” 

Mairead let out a small, sad sigh. “I’m not worried, mo stór. And do you know why?”

Alex finally looked up. “Why?”

“Because I know you and your sister will look after each other.” She smiled. “Whatever happens.” 

“But I can’t fight like she does.” 

“Taking care of someone isn’t just about fighting. It’s about being there.” She scruffed Alex’s yellow hair. “Do you think you can do that for her?”

Alex nodded. “I think so.” 

“Good.” Mairead stood up and kissed Alex’s brow. “You didn’t finish your breakfast…but I think there’s a bit of apple tart left over from last night. Should we share it with Mam and Gráinne?”

Alex shook his head. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that had been absent for too long. “They can have cold breakfast.”

Yep, another one. But, hey, I’m caught up now! Poor young Puck (Alex) had a bit of a traumatizing incident with far-reaching consequences when he was young. There were a couple images in my head of him trying to sleep after, and the first one is in here. The second one will be in the next part. I don’t love dividing my stories for FFM into multiple parts, but at 600+ words I didn’t think I’d be able to give the final scene the room it deserved.

Also, it’s around this time in his life that Alex started to be called Puck. He’s not quite there yet, though.

Other FFM stories from this universe:

FFM 3: Love is a Battlefield
FFM 8: Queen of Nothing
FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science
FFM 18: The Goddess in the River
FFM 24: Summer Blues

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 22: To My Daughter

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

To my daughter, on her fifteenth birthday, 

It is incredible to think of how much you’ve grown. It seems like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms and watching you take your first steps. I am sorry I can’t be with you to celebrate your special day. 

Fifteen is a momentous occasion for a young witch as yourself. You have watched me practice my magic for years. Now you take your first steps towards the true life of a witch. 

I am giving you your grandmother’s grimoire, as you will one day give your daughter mine. Learn from it, and grow in power and grace.

Much love to you on the auspicious day.

– Mother

#

Dear Mom,

Thanks for the gift. It’s really pretty. Are you sure this is grandma’s grimoire though? It just looks like a book on flower arranging.

Love,
Haven

P.S. I already told you I’m never having kids.

#

Sweet Haven,

Yes, that is your grandmother’s grimoire. Don’t you remember her lush gardens and gorgeous bouquets? Each flower was chosen specially and arranged just so for a purpose. Good luck bouquets for starting a new venture, a vase of herbs and flowers for health, and her special “something blue” for weddings. Follow one of her recipes and see what works for you. 

I miss you my darling. I hope to return before the year is out. 

Love, 
Mom

P.S. You’ll change your mind. 

#

Dear Mom, 

I tried one of Grandma’s bouquets for wealth with jade, lavender, and basil. It just made me sneeze. I did find twenty dollars in a pocket of my old jeans though, so maybe there’s something there? 

I might try to make a bouquet for good luck. 

Love,
Haven 

P.S. No, I won’t. I babysit Cooper every time he comes to visit and he’s a screaming tyrant. 

#

Darling Haven,

I hope you’re using your newly “blossoming” magic to help others. Witches wouldn’t survive in this world if we were selfish or unkind. 

Love,
Mother

P.S. Babysitting your five-year-old cousin is not equivalent to having and raising your own child. Your child will mean the world to you, more than you ever would think possible. There are difficult times, but the joy outweighs all of them. 

P.P.S. Unfortunately, I agree. Cooper is a screaming tyrant. 

#

Dear Mom,

I gave the bouquet to my friend Angela. She’s auditioning for the school play. 

Sincerely,
Haven 

P.S. I hear you, but I don’t want to have kids. It’s that simple. And if your kid is your whole wide world, why have I been living with Aunt Mercy for 8 months now??

#

Dear Haven, 

Please tell me the results. Will you audition for the play too?

Love,

Mom

P.S. I hear you, but I also must impress upon you the importance of carrying on our bloodline. There are few witches left in the world, and more and more magic becomes lost with each generation. That is why I’m traveling, and that is why Aunt Mercy is looking after you. As I have said, I plan to be home before the year is out and we can spend Yule together. I miss you. 

#

Mom,

Angela got the part. School plays aren’t my thing. I joined the cinema club. 

-Haven

P.S. Why does it have to be me to carry on the bloodline, though? I didn’t ask to be born a witch. No one told you I had to be an only child. There isn’t a prophecy about me or anything like that. There might not be a lot of witches, but there are still plenty of them in the world with daughters of their own. And maybe those daughters will have lots of other daughters. 

P.P.S. You didn’t think that helping your daughter learn witchcraft was witchy enough for you? So you left to find better witches? More witchy witches? 

#

Haven,

I’m so happy to hear that. Send her my regards. What movies will you be watching? 

– Mom

P.S. Because every bloodline is unique and powerful in its own way. We need to preserve that magical diversity. You are so incredibly special, even if you don’t feel it. 

P.P.S. Your comment hurt my feelings. I wish I was there to watch you. 

#

Mom,

We’re not watching movies. Movies are for kids. We’re watching films. We’re starting with Jaws. 

– Haven

P.S. You know you’re basically comparing me to a panda, right? 

P.P.S. Then why aren’t you? 

#

Dear Haven, 

I’m coming home. I won’t be able to stay long, but I’m so excited to see you, my darling. 

Love, 

Mom

#

Dear Mom,

I can’t wait! See you soon!

Love, 

Haven

Inside the envelope are three petals of a forget-me-not.

This was another challenge day!

Element 1: Write “Challenge me!” in the comments.

Element 2: Challenge other people by replying to their comment with a document type they must use as well as a topic that a document (of any type) in the story must cover. I was challenged by G. Deyke and got a grimoire and flower arranging.

Element 3: Choose one or more of the challenges you got and write an epistolary story using them.

This was also inspired by the novel Kiki’s Delivery Service by Eiko Kadono. It’s a bit different from the movie, but still utterly charming.

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 18: The Goddess in the River

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

The air wasn’t as frigid as Rosalie thought it would be, but there was a sharpness to it. A wildness that was rarely found in the human world. The two women stood in a Carpathian mountain valley, the only mostly-human souls around. Green was starting to emerge from underneath the snow that had yet to melt away, but it would still be weeks before the wildflowers would bloom. “She’s here. If she’s anywhere, she’s here.” 

“That way.” Gráinne pointed to a spot where the snow had melted into a silver river. The rapid water splashed up on the banks, as though calling Gráinne and Rosalie to its edges. 

Rosalie looked over at Gráinne with wide eyes. “Can you…”

“I can try to call her. But she may not respond.” 

Rosalie nodded. “I know.” 

The young women knelt beside the water, never minding the mud and cold that seeped through their jeans. Gráinne dipped her hand into the icy water. She released her magic into the river, a soft moss green momentarily coloring the waters

The water flowed around Gráinne’s wrist, unchanged. They waited. Nothing. 

“Rose, I’m sorry. But she won’t come for me.” 

“It’s okay,” Rosalie said softly. 

But it wasn’t okay. Gráinne was next in line to the throne of Tír na nÓg. If even she couldn’t reach the goddess, there was no way Rosalie would be able to, either. 

Gráinne sighed and stood up. “Maybe we could make an offering?”

Rosalie didn’t move. “I don’t think a willing sacrifice is just gonna appear.” She trailed her fingertips along the edge of the water. 

“Please.” Rosalie trailed her fingers over the clear water. Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m not asking for much. Just a conversation.” 

A tear slipped down Rosalie’s cheek and fell into the water. 

The water stilled. Ripples spread outward, reaching across to the opposite bank. 

Rosalie held her breath. Light glittered off the surface of the water. It wasn’t sunlight – too cloudy for that – but came from underneath. 

The sparkles coalesced around Rosalie’s fingertips. They expanded, forming a face. It was neither old nor young, but her features were soft and kind. 

Rosalie exhaled. “Great-grandmother.” 

The face disappeared in a whirlpool. Rosalie let out a small cry. 

“Moya pravnuchka,” a voice like springwater rolling over pebbles said. Rosalie looked up. 

Berehynia stood in front of her, smiling down at the young woman. Rosalie didn’t speak Ukranianian, but she understood. My great-granddaughter. 

Rosalie got to her feet. She had waited for this moment for years, but now she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she wanted from this nature goddess, except to have Berehynia acknowledge her. 

Berehynia spoke first. “You are lovely.” 

Rosalie swallowed. “So are you.” 

“Your grandmother left this land long ago. Why are you here now?” 

Rosalie looked back at Gráinne for reassurance. Gráinne nodded and walked away to give them some privacy. 

“I wanted to meet you. And I hope that you want to meet me.” 

“I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to meet you.” She brushed her delicate fingers over Rosalie’s cheek. “I have had many daughters, but your father was my first grandson. You are my first, and only, great-granddaughter.” 

Rosalie blinked, surprised. “‘Only?’”

Berehynia nodded. “Very few of my daughters have ever had children. But your grandmother was strong. She knew what she wanted, and she crossed the sea to have the life she dreamed of.” The goddess smiled. She wasn’t upset with her rebellious daughter. “Yet you’ve crossed it again, in the other direction.” 

“I…” Rosalie rubbed her hands on her thighs, her nervous quirk. “I thought if I met you, I might…understand myself better.”

“And do you?” Berehynia asked. 

“I don’t know,” Rosalie admitted. 

“You’re scared about your future, and the future of this world.” 

Something came loose in Rosalie. She started to burble everything out: wars, nuclear fallout, Agent Orange, the conflict in the Otherworld, how she had magic but not really, not in a powerful way that mattered. She talked about the boys in her classes and even some of her professors looked at her, like she wasn’t supposed to be there. Like she wasn’t just as smart and talented as they were. She talked about her dad and all the ways they didn’t understand each other anymore. When Rosalie finished, Berehynia was wiping away her great-granddaughter’s tears. 

“You are like me, malenʹka troyanda. You care until it hurts.” Berehynia took Rosalie’s hands in hers. “It is your weakness, and your strength.” 

Berehynia tucked a strand of Rosalie’s dark hair behind her ear. “You have so much compassion, little rose. Spare some for yourself.” 

Rosalie’s eyes watered again, for entirely different reasons. “Thank you, Great-Grandmother.” 

“I cannot be the mother you’re looking for,” Berehynia said. She looked toward Gráinne, standing at a distance. “But blood is not the only thing that makes a family. That girl is your friend, but she’s also your family, isn’t she?” 

Rosalie nodded. “Our parents are best friends. We call ourselves cousins.” 

“Good. Hold on to that. As for the rest…” Berehynia sighed, and it was the sigh of wind through the trees. “I feel your fears for this planet, too.” Berehynia spun, and her pale hair whirled around her. Colors appeared, green and purple tinged with brown, the dead rainbows of gasoline puddles. 

“No single person can heal the world. It takes many, many healers. You are one. You do not work alone, and you never will.” Berehynia held Rosalie’s face in her hands one last time. “I will not always be able to talk with you like this, but I carry you in my heart, little rose.” 

Berehynia kissed Rosalie’s forehead. When Rosalie opened her eyes, the goddess was gone. An otter stared at her from the riverbank, then dove under the water, and disappeared. 

After a silent moment, Rosalie went back to Gráinne. 

“Well?” Gráinne asked. 

Rosalie swiped at her eyes. “Thanks for bringing me, cos. I got what I needed.”

Oof, this was another one that initially clocked in at over 1000 words. Got it down to 999, though!

Rosalie and Gráinne are, once again, characters from my WIP novel. Rosalie is the “helper” character to Puck, Gráinne’s younger brother.

Berehynia (aka Bereginya) is a supernatural Slavic being. She’s often referred to as a goddess of nature and protection, but other sources describe her as a nature spirit.

More stories set in this universe:

FFM 3: Love is a Battlefield
FFM 8: Queen of Nothing
FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

I was trying to pay attention to an article about building an electric generator when my slate got warm in my pocket. I pulled it out of my pocket, just a thin rectangle of brightly polished copper with a few words written on it. I recognized Theo’s handwriting before I even read the message. Can you come over? Stressed af.

I wasn’t getting anywhere in my work (if anything, it was putting me to sleep), and I knew how worn down final exams were making him. Can do, I replied. Set up the beacon.

It was a quick trip to Theo’s dorm room on Earth. After much hemming and hawing about transferring schools, he’d finally applied to Embry-Riddle. I might have come from a magical land, but Florida was a whole other universe compared to Buffalo. 

Theo barely looked up from his laptop when I arrived. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that,” I told him by way of greeting. 

He shut his laptop and turned to me. The worries in his face disappeared. “You don’t need to worry about that.” 

“Because I don’t worry.” I grinned and took a seat on his bed. 

“Liar.” Theo sat next to me and poked the top of one of my slightly tapered ears. 

“Thank you for noticing.” Like a lot of people who have some Fae blood, lying isn’t easy for me. It took a lot of practice to get this good. “Are exams killing you?”

Theo buried his face in his hands. “Yes. A million times yes,” he groaned, his voice muffled. 

“Do you want to help me build a generator instead?” I asked hopefully. 

“For the last time, Alex, I’m not that kind of scientist.” He leaned against my side. 

This was the confusing part. Theo and I had been together, broken up, and now…now I wasn’t so sure what we were. It was something deeper than just friendship, but we weren’t lovers, either. Theo and I have always been pretty touchy with each other, even from the start. Not weird for Fae, but weird for humans, especially Americans. So I liked when he leaned into me, and he relaxed when I put my arm around his shoulders. I didn’t know what it all meant, and I don’t think Theo did, either. 

“Right, you’re a space man.” 

“Astrophyscist. Except I won’t be if I don’t graduate, and I’m not going to graduate because I’m going to fail my statistical physics class and end up living in a cardboard box holding a sign that says ‘will calculate for food.’” All his words came out in one breath. Theo pressed his forehead against my shoulder. 

“Hey, hey,” I said in a soothing voice. I ran my fingers through Theo’s thick, dark hair. “You’re gonna pass. And then there’s only one semester left, you’ll graduate, start counting stars or launching rockets or whatever you do. And I’ll brag that I know the guy who sent a satellite to Uranus.”

We both laughed at the dumb joke. It was always good to see Theo smile. He straightened up a little, then took my hand in his. “And you’ll have figured out how to build a magical power grid.”

“That, or I’ll have lost my mind working on it.”

He let go of my hand and stretched his arms over his head. “You’ll figure it out.” He lied down on his side, and gestured for me to join him. His twin bed was narrow, but I squeezed between him and the wall. 

We lay there together for a moment, our knees touching, so close that I could feel his breath on my face. Theo took my hand again, rubbing his thumb over mine. “Tell me more about this future where it’s just you and me and everything’s okay.”

“No math,” I promised. “We’ll go on our gay little adventures, kill some monsters, fall in love.” 

“You’re not exactly a monster slayer.” 

“No, I’ll leave that part up to you.” You’d think the magical half-Fae prince would be decent with a sword, but it turns out a pissed off and confused human can be more useful than a trained warrior when you’re in a tight spot. 

“And the ‘fall in love’ part?” Theo asked. 

My heart stopped for a second. I was the one who broke up with him. I needed time to learn how to be a whole person, not just the Trickster Prince who’d hid behind a mask of pranks and games. It was a fun mask, but a mask nonetheless. 

Theo’s eyes were beautiful, dark brown flecked with gold. 

“Already there,” I said in a whisper. “You?”

Theo raised my hand to his lips. “And I never left.”

Surprise! You’ve been pronouncing Theo wrong. This Theo uses the French pronunciation, which is Tee-oh. He has Lebanese heritage, and there’s a big French influence in Lebanon, particularly among Maronite Catholics. Or, as I like to say, “it’s French because he’s Lebanese.”

Here’s another pair of characters from my novel, Prince Alexander, better known as Puck, and his boyfriend(?) Theo. This story would take place a few years after the novel, with Theo getting close to graduating from college. I chose to write from Puck’s first-person POV, since that’s how I’m writing the novel. Puck is also one of Mairead and Fiadh’s kids and Korbyn’s cousin.

This is also a challenge!

Element 1: We love prompts (and would love it if you fed more of them to us ;)). Today, we want you to pick a prompt from the Prompt Bank 2025. Any prompt, any number of them as long as the number is at least 1. Difficulty choosing? Let the 2025 Prompt Generator make the choice for you!

I used two prompts from bunnythewriter: (not the exact wording, but close enough!)

“Tell me more about this future, where it’s just you and me and everything is finally okay.” and “We’ll go on our gay little adventures, y’know fall in love, kill some monsters.” because it was such a Puck response.

Element 2: We would also like your wordcount to be palindromic (that is, one that reads the same backwards as forwards, such as 121 or 747 or 666). Why? We just think they [palindromes] are neat. This story is 787 words.

Optional element: include a generator of any kind in your story. Done! Puck would love to bring modern technology to the Otherworld, but the problem is that smartphones can’t run on magic…or can they?

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 14: She stays away from Cabin 7

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

There’s always a stir when a new camper arrives, and for a long time Annabeth, Thalia, and Luke’s grand entrance to Camp Half-Blood was the most exciting thing to ever happen. Then this Percy Jackson kid showed up. 

New arrivals are always exciting, and there was a lot of speculation about who Percy really was. He settled in the Hermes cabin with the rest of us for a while, but we would gossip about him whenever he was out of sight. 

“Did you see what he did to the bathrooms? He’s probably Posedien’s son,” I said. 

My friend Dani scoffed. “Come on. You know the Big Three can’t have kids anymore.” 

Then, when he, Annabeth, and Grover all went off on their quest for the stolen Master Bolt, I had a hunch they were going in the wrong direction. Hermes was the god of thieves, after all. It would make sense that he had some hand in this. “What if it was someone from our cabin?” I suggested. “I like Luke, but he’s got a chip on his shoulder and he’s crafty enough to do it.” 

“Gods,” Dani sighed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Cassandra.”

IYKYK.

For those who don’t know: In Greek mythology, Cassandra was cursed by Apollo to give true prophecies, but no one would believe her. I’ve since been converted to a Percy Jackson fan, and thought it would be funny to have Cassandra as a camper. I thought about doing a vignette for each book in the first series, but it would all be kind of the same: “I bet that at least part of the Great Prophecy is about Luke.”
“Oh my gods, Cassandra, you’re such a liar.”