Any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. I do not consent to this work being summarized or fed to generative AI, and anyone who does so is a big dweeb.
July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of sthe story.
Olive leaned back in the divan, fanning herself. “I hate this time of year.”
Her consort, Septimus, wiped his glistening face with a cloth and glanced over to his axehandle hound that was panting in the shade. “So does Tort.” At the sound of his name, the dog whined and wagged its stubby tail. “It helps to think of summer as a time of plenty.”
Olive shaded her eyes with a hand and glared at the sun for a second, just long enough for it to blind her. “It doesn’t look any closer than it does in winter. Why is it so beastly hot?”
“It’s not the sun, my light. Scholars no longer believe that the sun moves across the sky, but is, in fact, fixed in place.” Septimus had no fear of reprisal from Olive for correcting her. One of the benefits of being her consort was that she paid his consortia fees. Women were not allowed to attend consortia, and she eagerly drank up any knowledge that he had to share. The arrangement worked for both of them.
“Truly?” Olive’s thin eyebrows met in a point. “But we see it move every day.”
“Yes, but it does not go nearer or farther. It keeps a steady distance.”
“Not far enough,” Olive replied, and resumed fanning herself. “If the sun does not move closer to us, then why are summer and winter so terrible?”
“The current theory is phoenixes,” Septimus informed her.
“Phoenixes,” Olive repeated.
“Yes, hatching in spring, at their full power in summer, wilting in autumn and becoming ash in winter. The heat given off by a mature, healthy phoenix is incredible.”
Olive frowned. “Phoenixes don’t have such short lifespans. And they often shelter their eggs in deep caves, where the elements cannot disturb them. Their hatching cycle wouldn’t have anything to do with spring.”
“Actually, my sweet, it’s been found that most phoenixes prefer to lay their eggs at the roots of trees,” Septimus told her. “That they lay their eggs in caves is a common myth-conception.”
Another challenge day! Element 1: Write “Challenge me!” in the comments.
Element 2: Challenge other people by replying to their comment with a misconception they must feature in their story. This misconception can be fictional or a real-life misconception (if you challenge with a real-life one, including a source for why it’s a misconception would be appreciated).
Element 3: Choose one or more of the misconceptions you got and write a story using them.
I used Damon L. Wake’s misconception: Seasons are caused by Earth moving closer to and farther from the Sun.
I was a little disappointed to learn that magpies don’t steal shiny things, though. 😦
Any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. I do not consent to this work being summarized or fed to generative AI, and anyone who does so is a big dweeb.
July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. Leif is another DnD character of mine, though this is more like a potential epilogue to his story than anything in our game right now. There’s a strong possibility of more Leif stories this month.
Four heavy steps on the tavern floor above him told Leif it was time to emerge from the cellar. Tabbie, the brusque human cleric, couldn’t be bothered to go down the stairs to get him. This was how she let him know someone was here to see the druid.
Leif put down his pruning shears with a sigh. It was a bright, sunny afternoon — too early in the day for him to be bothered. Five years in Waterdeep made the drow change his trance schedule, but he still disliked the sun. The plants in the narrow window were the same way. They preferred low light, and the window let in only a scant amount of sunlight for a few hours a day.
A small clink came from behind him, the sound of a short sword shifting in its sheath. Leif recognized it as an inquisitive sound. “Not yet, Bloodless,” he said, and went upstairs.
Tabbie was behind the bar, counting out the previous night’s profit. “There he is.”
The half-elf sitting at the bar rose from her stool, looked over to Leif, opened her mouth to introduce herself…but what came out was, “you’re the druid?” She shifted back a half-step, then glanced over to Tabbie.
Tabbie nodded once, and went back to the coins.
Leif had stopped bothering to try to hide what he was some time ago. No hoods or floppy hats, just a pact-scarred man who had found another path. “If you’re looking for help with something fungal, better to wait until my friend Verdi gets back tomorrow. I’m best with plants and flying creatures. I don’t do anything with spiders.” He kept his voice flat and even.
“Do you know the rainbow wood tree in the North Ward? Its bark is losing color and flaking off,” the half-elf said.
“Root mites, likely,” Leif replied with a huff of annoyance. “I think one of the caravans brought them in accidentally. We’ll be fighting the infestation for years. Show me.”
The half-elf’s shoulders visibly relaxed at Leif’s speedy diagnosis. He really was the druid.
It always happened the same way. No matter the urgency — a horse with a broken leg, blight spreading through crops, a stampede of poisonous frogs — there was always the pause, then the question.
“You’re the druid?”
The answer was usually, “not if it’s spiders,” followed by “show me.”
Leif did what he was asked. Not out of fear or obedience, as he always had done to survive in the Underdark. Because he chose to. Because he cared for Waterdeep and its strange inhabitants. Because he loved plants.
For so many reasons, he became the druid.
Then one day, as the sun was setting and Leif was scolding a pair of rats for fighting, a halfling child ran up to him in the courtyard. His pudgy face lit up. “You’re the druid!”
Leif gave the rats a stern warning glance, then nodded at the child.
Any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. I do not consent to this work being summarized or fed to generative AI, and anyone who does so is a big dweeb.
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.
“If you’d told me that we’d lose all the music in the world tonight, I would’ve pushed you under a car.” Andre waved his fingers, indicating for the panda to give him another cigarette. Xue never had a shortage of them. Andre didn’t know where she kept them. She wore no clothes, and didn’t have a pouch to hide them in.
Xue handed him a cigarette and lit another one for herself with surprisingly dexterous paws. “I tried to warn you, that this would make you blue. But you needed those pictures, you stupid mister. All because you said Green Lantern wouldn’t work.”
Andre’s eye twitched. “They were vintage Spider-Man comics. And you were a vintage lamp. You sure there’s no way I can revert you back to that?”
Xue breathed out a long puff of smoke. “No way, Andre. The spellbook’s broke, and that’s your fault. I hated being stuck in clay. Then you messed with the occult. You just had to hear that piano make noise.”
“You were the one who told me about the piano in the first place.” Andre took a drag, and crossed his arms. “‘Right over there, next to the haunted Playboys and sanctified Hummels. Can’t miss it,’ you said. “‘Immortality,’ you said. ‘All you need to do is play the right song.'”
Xue shrugged a shoulder. “Only you could master it. You knew the song in a tick. You have a musician’s heart and hands, you’re the best pianist in the land! But I did fucking warn you, bro.”
“You said I’d lose something I loved. I thought you meant my comic collection. Seemed like a small price to pay for immortality.” The cigarette had burned down to Andre’s fingertips. He let it. What use were his long fingers and perfect hands now?
Xue ground her own cigarette under a calloused paw and lit a new one. “Immortality costs the world. When you played, everything curled. You lost music for every boy and every girl. You’ve thrown your whole livelihood away, so what is left for you, for all of us?”
“Music is gone,” Andre said to himself. “Forever.”
“Don’t have a panic attack, it can come back. It won’t be easy, it won’t be short. And it will probably hurt. All you have to do is die.”
Andre stared at Xue. She blinked slowly.
Rain hissed on the road as cars drove past them. No songs on the radio. No one singing along. “So if I threw myself in front of one of these cars, would it…?”
Xue blew out another cloud of blue smoke, and didn’t say a word.
Today’s challenge was a three-parter, leading to a bizarre tale.
Element 1: Go look through our generators either via the Prompt Generators page or our itch.io profile (and please excuse the lack of cover images; we have yet to decide on a design for them). If you come across any issues, please let us know here or on the page of the troubled generator.
Element 2: Pick at minimum three (3) generators other than the yearly prompt generators (2009-2025 and 2026), David Bowie Song Randomiser or 2675 Things Mr. Welch Can No Longer Do During An RPG Generator. Grab one (1) prompt from each of your chosen generators. Bonus points if you pick the first prompt you generate from them.
Element 3: Use each prompt you got in today’s story. You may combine them with prompts from excluded generators if you wish to use them as well. Make sure to tell which generators you got which prompts from!
I did not do this properly and chose sections of prompts from various generators.
From the adventure generator:
MacGuffin: Mystical piano that’s said to grant whoever can play the right song immortality. Nobody has succeeded. – by bookcrusher
Character mashup generator:
Character 1: A chain-smoking panda who speaks only in limericks but doesn’t know how rhymes work.
Character 2: An internationally acclaimed concert pianist who wants pictures! Pictures of Spiderman!
– by DamonWakes
And a generator which shall not be named because I can’t remember which one it was:
Opening line: If you’d told me that we’d lose all the music in the world tonight, I would’ve pushed you under a car.
Any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. I do not consent to this work being summarized or fed to generative AI, and anyone who does so is a big dweeb.
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.
Once, there were unicorns.
Well, I say “once,” but that implies that unicorns are no longer around. But that’s not entirely accurate. They didn’t get hunted to extinction or go to another plane of existence. They’re still here. They’ve just gotten smaller. You might see them sometimes, in dew drops and in the dust that floats in sunbeams. But that’s just the way these kinds of stories begin.
Once, there were full-sized unicorns of every variety you could imagine. Unicorns that were shy, unicorns that were bold, unicorns that brought sunlight wherever they stepped and unicorns with fiery manes and even fierier tempers.
That’s why they became small, you know. Each came into being with their own talents, their own way to shape the world. They couldn’t help who they were. They didn’t want to change. But more and more, humans demanded that they change. Not out loud, of course. No, everyone loved the unicorns. No one wanted them to disappear.
One of the humans when there were full-sized unicorns was an inventor. She loved to work with copper and brass.
I know what you’re thinking. The unicorns must have hated her. Fae creatures hate metal. But that wasn’t true, either. There were unicorns of copper and brass who loved her dearly, and helped her with her work. She loved them back.
Her copper and brass friends let her ride on their backs and took her to the foundaries of the earth, where molten rock and iron glowed. With their protection, the inventor scooped the golden mantle into her bare hands, and they rode back up to the surface.
I know you’re looking up the melting points of copper and brass now. Probably Google’s crappy AI is telling you that copper and brass would melt even in the upper mantle. Stop using AI. I can give you misinformation, and I’m beautiful.
Back on the surface, the inventor did not use that golden bit of mantle to create. Instead, she kept it in a lantern, to forever warm and light the way.
Incidentally, did you know that if you type “-ai” after your Google search, you’re less likely to see AI results? Not always, though, because Google is a beast that devours the world.
And in the time of unicorns, there was another beast that threatened to devour the world.
Wait. The time of unicorns is technically still now. But you know what I’m getting at.
This is why the inventor and her friends made the lantern. The beast could not withstand the light from the pulsing heart of the Earth. They rode forward, pushing back the dark, chasing the beast back to its holes. But the unicorns were getting smaller.
Not as small as they are now, mind. And it wasn’t just brass and copper, it was all of them. But this isn’t a story about the unicorns getting smaller. It was just something that was happening at the same time.
Where was I? Yes. The inventor was chasing the beast. She held her lantern aloft. But she had to navigate through a changing world, one that was changing away from what the unicorns needed.
Okay, I know I’m rambling. You’ve known me all your life, you know I go on tangents. This is just the way I tell stories. And if I’m telling a story about something as ancient as unicorns, there’s going to be a few tangents. Don’t you give me that look. You asked about the lantern, now you’re getting the answer.
Yes, I know, you’re on an epic quest. Yes, I know you have a time limit. But if you don’t have the patience to hear the whole story, then you’re not getting the whole story. So you don’t get to know how our family got the lantern. Nope. I’m outtie. See ya.
When I’m feeling stuck as a writer, it helps to go back to my writing roots. However, when I’m feeling stuck and sleep-deprived, the narrator just quits. I think I want to tell the “real” version of this story later this month, but for now, this is what you get.
Every year, the Sunshine State Young Readers Award (SSYRA) Program in Florida names several lucky books Sunshine State books. These books have been voted on by schools across Florida as “the best” books for K-12 students. Alongside students’ and teachers’ votes, these books are “selected for their wide appeal, literary value, varied genres, curriculum connections, and/or multicultural representation.” These books make up the bulk of summer reading lists in Florida.
This year, a local school reached out to the public libraries and asked for help with their annual Battle of the Books. The librarians who signed up had to read two books from the Grade 6-8 list and write fifteen open-ended comprehension questions about them. A chance to read cool kids’ books on the clock? I jumped at the opportunity.
The first book I chose wasThe Lost Year by Katherine Marsh. It was an excellent book, but not exactly uplifting. For my second book, I chose Brick Dust and Bones by M.R. Fournet because it sounded like a fun urban fantasy romp. I was not disappointed.
SSYRA’s description:
Marius Grey hunts Monsters. He’s not supposed to. He’s twelve and his job as a Cemetery Boy is to look after the ghosts in his family’s graveyard. He should be tending these ghosts and–of course–going to school to learn how to live between worlds without getting into trouble. But, Marius has an expensive goal. He wants to bring his mother back from the dead, and that takes a LOT of mystic coins, which means a LOT of Monster Hunting, and his mother’s window to return is closing. If he wants her back, Marius is going to have to go after bigger and meaner monsters. Can Marius navigate New Orleans’s gritty monster bounty-hunting market, or will he have to say goodbye to his mother forever?
The book opens with Marius staking out a little girl’s bedroom, waiting for a boogeyman to arrive. After a magical tussle, he traps the terrifying creature in his monster book and turns it in for the bounty. By the time Marius got to the Habada-Chérie to get his reward, I was totally hooked. I realized the Brick Dust and Bones has so many things I loved about Harry Potter, minus an incredibly problematic author.
There’s obviously the magical orphan boy to start, but it feels sharper than Harry’s loss. Marius’s father disappeared when he was young, and his mother died two years before the start of the book. Marius misses and mourns them, especially his mother. Harry Potter misses what he might have had, but Marius knows true, deep loss.
Marius’s loss isn’t as straightforward as you might think. He can still hear his mother’s voice and have conversations with her. Not all the time, and sometimes her voice falls silent when he needs her the most. Even with her voice whispering in his ear, Marius still feels her absence deeply. Just being able to hear his mother’s is not enough to make him stop missing her. He’s also dealing with a different kind of loss, that of his childhood. Marius is pretty self-sufficient, but he doesn’t always want to be. There are moments when he just misses having someone to take care of him so he can be a kid.
The other thing I really loved about this book – and Harry Potter – was the well-developed magical world. Specifically, the magical world that’s just under normal people’s noses. There are three types of people: totally normal folks, totally magical folks, and fringe people. Marius is a fringe person, with one foot in the normal world, and one in the magical world. I think the setting that best exemplifies this is Mama Roux’s.
As a cemetery boy, Marius’s job is to take care of the mausoleums in his graveyard, as well as the ghosts that inhabit it. One of his chores is to take the ghosts to Mama Roux’s for dinner. Mama Roux’s is a neutral zone, where normal families come to dine without even knowing about the ghosts and demons around them. The ghosts have to avoid the normal children, though, since they’re more likely to see them. This is a place where demons cut deals with humans, ghosts pretend to eat fake food, and normal people don’t realize a thing.
Mama Roux’s isn’t the only thing about the setting I love. The book takes place in New Orleans, a city that is already ripe for magic. One of Marius’s teachers, Madame Millet, reads tarot cards for tourists at night but teaches fringe kids real magic during the day. The magical store he visits sells incense and gris-gris dolls as souvenirs for normal people, and supplies for actual spellcasting and monster hunting to people like Marius. Marius hunts monsters in the bayou, grave hops around the city’s cemeteries, and even uses the word beignets to signal a poltergeist. New Orleans’s burial traditions come back in a big way at the end of the book. There are some books where the setting isn’t that important. Rich People With Problems could take place in Anytown, USA, and you’d still have the same story. But if you took Brick Dust and Bones out of Louisiana, you’d have a very different story, and one that probably isn’t as much fun.
There’s a lot of good fantasy action sequences and monsters. Lots of monsters.
The story opens with Marius hidden in a girl’s bedroom closet, waiting for the lights to go out. Once they do, Marius faces off against the boogeyman hiding under the girl’s bed. He fights a “candy lady” who turns out to be more dangerous than he’d thought. There’s a fantastic final battle against a deadly monster who’s way out of Marius’s league. Even Marius’s best friend is a monster: Rhiannon, a mermaid who’s more man-eating siren than Princess Ariel.
Some of these monsters are based on Cajun and Hoodoo tradition, which was really refreshing. I really enjoyed reading about monsters that were outside the typical fantasy fare. Marius’s unconventional friendship with Rhiannon was great. While other monster hunters would have captured her without a second thought, befriending the mermaid is a boon to Marius in a number of ways.
There are also literal fire and brimstone demons, which would have scared me if I read this as a kid. Blame it on the Catholic upbringing. Demons occupy an interesting place in Marius’s world. They’re not monsters that Marius would hunt, but they’re not good, either. Humans, even normal humans, can make deals with demons. Some of these deals affect Marius personally.
If all that doesn’t make you want to read the book, I’ll add this: the ticking time bomb. Marius had two years to earn the Mystic Coins he needs to bring his mother back, and his window of time to earn them is rapidly closing. I’ve also read some books where the hero ultimately decides not to bring their deceased love one back to life, and I didn’t know how this one would go. Without giving away the ending, I honestly didn’t know if he was going to make the deadline…or choose to not bring his mom back to life.
Brick Dust and Bones was such a fun book, especially after reading The Lost Year. For a book full of monsters, it still has very human themes: loss, grief, responsibility, and friendship. There are some scary sequences, so I would recommend this book for ages 10 and up. It’s a great introduction to horror/urban fantasy for kids and an absolute blast to read.
The questions I wrote for this book are more trivia than discussion questions. Here they are (contains spoilers):
1. Marius is an orphan, but he has adults who look out for him. How do these adults act like parents to him?
2. Marius’s mother tells him that he’s “so much older than you ought to be.” What did she mean by this?
3. Rhiannon says that she doesn’t understand “the in-between stuff” of human relationships. What does she mean by “in-between stuff”?
4. Most monster hunters would have captured Rhiannon. How does Marius benefit from having her as his friend instead?
5. Why has Marius avoided sleeping in his bed?
6. Why does Marius pay off Mrs. Pine’s debt?
7. Why does Rhiannon help Marius find the rougarou, even though she doesn’t want him to hunt it?
8. Other than math, why does Marius dislike school?
9. How does Marius’s job as a cemetery boy help him in the story?
10. Why doesn’t Marius want the adults in his life to know that he’s monster hunting?
11. Why can children see ghosts and monsters, but adults can’t?
12. Why do the High Mystics tolerate demons, but not monsters?
13. How does Marius know that he can trust Rhiannon, even if she is a monster?
14. Why does Mildred let Marius get away with stealing from Madame Millet?
15. Why does Marius give Henry a rosary and worry beads after he captures the boo hag?
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.
Yes, that is the correct pluralization. Octopodes is acceptable, octopi is right out. ↩︎
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Overlooked Books 