How I Got My Agent

 

I used to love reading “How I Got My Agent” stories.

It was always my goal to write one. But those of you who know me might not be surprised to learn that once I was finally there, once I received that first offer of representation—I suddenly felt like I had no business writing one.

But then I thought back to how much I used to love reading them, how I wished every author I followed would write them. And so, what the heck. Let’s do this. For past me, for present you, if that’s your thing. If it makes you happy to read about the journey others take. If it gives you hope the way it did me, once upon a time.

THE JOURNEY

Okay, actually, I won’t talk about the journey. Everybody always skims through that part, anyway, right? I mean, don’t you want to know how baby me used to tap out little stories on their dad’s computer way back in the early 90s? No?

Well, anyway. If you really wanna know how I first got started, at least in terms of querying, go ahead and check out my previous post. It’s all about beginning the journey, persevering, and learning to celebrate each success. That post will take you from 2018 up to about Summer 2023—the life cycle of my very first querying book. My YA fantasy, my precious baby boy who failed to get me an agent, but who is still nearest and dearest to my heart, and who will one day be on the shelves available for purchase, so help me god!!!!

Ahem. So, yeah, that didn’t happen. While my first book was slowly and quietly exiting the trenches, I began working on finishing my next one, an adult fantasy. This was another book that had started as fanfiction, but I quickly nipped that in the bud and transitioned it to original. I spent some time world-building before diving into revisions. The book was about a third written when I did this, and I have to say, pushing through that middle third, having to pause periodically and go back and rewrite whole chapters so everything would make sense again—it was a Herculean effort. But once I did that, the latter third just sort of wrote itself.

THE BOOK:

We all know genre and age group matter. We don’t like to say that some are “easier” or “harder” than others; this has a tendency to make it seem like some authors are just destined to suffer more while others get to skate through, stress-free. That just isn’t true. Every journey is different, but when I used to read HIGMA posts, it always mattered to me what genre and age group got the person agented. Mostly because, as a fantasy writer, I was looking to gauge how my own experience was most likely to play out.

“Adult fantasy” doesn’t really say enough to assuage any curious hopefuls, so I’ll be a little more specific: It's something of hybrid of my love of Victorian novels and Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a Gaslamp fantasy (new term I learned!) that’s also cozy (another new publishing term I learned!) and very romantic (just try and stop me!). And queer, because again, just try and stop me.

It’s a love/hate letter to my time in grad school, and the terror of having to strike out on your own afterward, when the world sees you as an adult, but you still feel so very small inside. It’s about coming from a small, insular, family-oriented culture, and feeling that constant push-pull of belonging and not belonging.

I also put my dog in it. I’m sure you can see why.

THE JOURNEY, Part 2:

Fall 2023, I was still sending out a few hopeful queries for my YA fantasy. I sent this new book to my amazing critique partner, did some revisions afterward, and submitted to #SmoochPit. Yes, I still had “mentorship” on the brain—I guess I wasn’t at the point where I believed in myself enough to start querying again. In any case, I didn’t get selected. I sent the book to my second amazing critique partner and made even more revisions. At this point, the book was in a REALLY solid state. Thanks to my CPs, I tightened up the plot, made the love interest’s situation far more dire and deadly, and added a few new scenes to help with the pacing. My goal had been to keep the book under 100k. At one point during edits I hit 99,999. #GoalsMet.

Winter Break 2024. My YA fantasy had gotten what eventually proved to be its final full request. It had queried really well: 21 requests total. It received no offers because always, at the end of the day, publishing comes down to luck and marketing. C’est la vie. A lot of people will tell you YA fantasy is one of the toughest groups to break into, and boy, did I prove them right. Most agents loved the voice but felt the pacing was too slow for YA. Or they just didn’t “fall in love.” Or they didn’t think the world-building was unique enough to stand out. Keep in mind this book had been through a mentorship program and was about as polished as it could be.  (If you’re querying YA fantasy: godspeed.)

But I was ready to query my new book. I first queried those who’d requested the first book and were open (and who were also taking adult as well as YA). I got a few immediate fulls, a few “No”s—and a lot of crickets. I didn’t query in batches. I don’t know what sudden change had come over me, but I just felt like I had enough confidence in myself as a writer (thanks in no small part to my mentor and CPs) to know that the book was finally good enough. I just needed to find the right pair of eyes to see it.

I started off keeping track of my queries, passes, and requests in Word, but as the semester got going (I teach full time), that quickly fell to the wayside. In the end, I pretty much just let Query Tracker handle it for me. The book was doing stunningly well. My request rate hovered around 25%. I was giddy. Was this THE ONE? Was the dream finally going to come true??

And then the passes on fulls started trickling in. Too slow-paced seemed to be the prevailing thought. (Oh GREAT. Here we go again…) One agent said they loved it, knew readers would love it, knew it would sell well… but that they weren’t the agent to sell it. Each pass slowly broke my heart. I was seeing all over Twitter people complain about how “easy” it was to write and receive an offer for cozy fantasy and romantasy, and here was my book that slotted neatly into both categories… crashing and burning. It made me feel like such a loser. (Psst! Don’t do this to yourself. If social media comments are getting you down—turn off social media. Seriously. You don’t need it. As soon as it stops bringing you joy, it just might be time to say bye-bye.)

As the semester continued to kick my ass and eat at my very soul (you know, as it tends to do), I found it harder and harder to focus on querying. New agents were popping up here and there, and established agents were just starting to open, but all I could do was quickly check their MSWLs and make a note on my phone of when they were opening. As soon as I got the alert, I sat down, pulled up their Query Manager, and fired off a query. And went back to the ass-kicking and soul-eating.

A trio of full rejections came all within the span of the week. The prevailing reason was, again, pacing. Too slow. Too steady. “Perhaps if you ended the chapters on mini-cliffhangers,” one agent suggested. Wait—was that actual, actional feedback?! End the chapters on mini-cliffhangers, I thought. I can do that. A few days later, I received a partial request from a new agent. Before I sent the partial off, I did just that, at least for the first three chapters. It sort of went against the vibe I was going for, but maybe I was just too close to the story. Maybe I couldn’t see that my efforts to keep things calm and lighthearted had drifted too far into steady and boring. It took all of an afternoon to make the adjustments, and then off it went. I didn’t think much of it. Really, a part of me felt I’d made the story worse. I even saved it under a different file. You know, in case I had to go back to my older, better version of the story. Which I was certain I would.

And then a funny thing happened: for the first time, a partial turned into a full.

THE OFFER:

I had gotten partials before. But so far, every one of them had resulted in a pass. That this one didn’t—had that mini-cliffhanger thing actually worked? And I didn’t have to wait and wonder long: within a week, the agent replied: they wanted to chat.

OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING!! Was it though? Was it really, finally happening?? Could this actually BE an offer? I shared the news with my two Discord groups. The replies were unanimous: IT’S AN OFFER. And reader, they were right.

As querying authors, we’re used to playing the waiting game. But all of a sudden, everything started happening really, really fast. Like I was not remotely prepared for how quickly things would happen. Curiously enough, the offering agent didn’t mention pacing even once. They loved the characters. They loved the world. They loved pretty much everything about the book. Honestly? It didn’t feel real. I was so overcome by the reality that someone had actually read and enjoyed my book that I could barely remember to ask all the questions I was supposed to ask. 

The agent was kind enough to suggest three weeks, which took a huge burden off my shoulders, because I’d been planning to ask for exactly that amount of time—knowing full well that the ‘norm’ was two weeks. PSA: I think three weeks is becoming the new norm, so don’t be afraid to ask for it.

Whatever happened—I was thrilled. The offering agent (let’s call them “Agent A”) was incredibly kind, and I could tell they really just GOT my story. I knew I’d be more than happy to work with them. But within a week or so, I received another offer. 😱 If you think I was expecting this to happen, guess again. After all the passes I’d received, how was it possible that not one but TWO agents wanted to represent me and my stories?! The second agent (we’ll call them “Agent B”) was just as kind and warm as the first, and once again, I could tell they completely and utterly GOT my story. I was buzzing afterward. Whew! Did I have a decision to make.

But don’t worry. It wasn’t completely sunshine and rainbows. In the meantime, a flurry of full requests rapidly turned into a flurry of passes. The vast majority of these were split between two reasons: “This isn’t for me” and “I love this, but I just don’t have time to finish.” So yeah. Remember what I said about three weeks? If you feel up to the challenge, go ahead and ask for four. On top of that, there were 13 agents who had my query and never responded to my notification of an offer.

But who cares? They weren’t the agents for me. I had two amazing agents to choose between. It was a “champagne problem” as one person put it, and they were right. I was stressed; I was nervous; I was losing sleep—but I was in an incredibly fortunate position. I made “pros and cons” lists; I messaged friends who were familiar with one or the other agency. I asked folks in my online communities and real life friends what they thought. But ultimately it would come down to what *I* wanted for my book and my career.

And then, the night before my due date, I received a response from one of the last agents who still had my full: They weren’t quite finished. Could I give them a little more time?

Oh no. I’d been in such a great mood all day, so excited that this saga was finally coming to an end. I was going to have an agent! And I was pretty sure who I was going to pick, too. Then here was Agent C, asking for more time. I didn’t know what to do. What was the protocol here? Most of my writer friends said it was perfectly fine to offer more time. I said I would sleep on it. I did so, fully believing I’d tell Agent C, as politely and kindly as I could, that I was going to keep to the deadline. But then, I thought of something one of my CPs asked me: if I knew Agent C would offer, how would I feel if I didn’t give them the chance?

I couldn’t sleep. I woke up two hours before my alarm, turned on my PC, and typed out a response to Agent C: I would be happy to give them more time! I then emailed Agents A and B, and told them the new due date would be Friday, four days hence, and that I would inform them of my decision by the end of the weekend.

Four days later, Agent C passed.

So, with metaphorical pie all over my face, I once again pulled out my “pros and cons” lists. Once again, I had a decision to make. It wasn’t so much that I would have gone with Agent C no matter—more so that their sudden possible inclusion had thrown a wrench into my anxiety-ridden deliberations. But, Friday morning, I finally sat down and wrote one of the happiest emails I’ve ever written: accepting representation from an agent.

This was swiftly followed by one of the saddest emails I’ve ever written: turning down the offer of representation from the other agent. I teared up while doing it—I’m tearing up while thinking about it all over again! Everyone says it’s a wonderful place to be, when agents are “fighting over you.” But I can admit I didn’t enjoy it. I was overwhelmed and flattered, definitely! But it broke my heart to have to turn someone down. Unfortunately, it’s all part of the process. And I know that agent holds no grudges against me, and also hopefully knows I’ll be forever grateful for their interest in my dear little book.

So, here we are! I have another meeting set up tomorrow with my ✨new agent✨, and I hope to begin editing my book soon. And eventually going on submission! If you’ve read this far, you’re probably interested in stats, so I’ll paste them in here for you. Keep in mind this is somewhat inflated as I had around 5-6 full requests after my offer.

And here are the stats for my YA fantasy, which was also pretty cozy and romantic (though leaning more epic adventure than my adult book). I think it was a case of querying before the market was really interested in books like that—fingers crossed.

Lastly if you want to see the query for the book that got me agented, I’ll paste that below as well!

🌻🌻🌻

I’m pleased to send you my novel, THE HAPHAZARD BUT STILL ENTIRELY RESPECTABLE EDUCATION OF IMRYN DYRE, a 99,000 word demisexual x bi-disaster romantasy reminiscent of Miyazaki’s Howl’s Moving Castle. It blends the cozy, magical milieu of C. L Polk’s The Midnight Bargain with the gentle, slow burn romance of Alexandra Rowland’s A Taste of Gold and Iron.

As a half-goblin student on scholarship, Imi has known all his life that he’ll have to work harder than most. So, when the prestigious healer’s guild denies him entrance, he’s hardly surprised. Instead, he must accept a demeaning position as a live-in healer to a master wizard. While Elim Greenwood proves to be a kind if eccentric—not to mention painfully handsome—employer, Imi’s disappointment lingers. His dream of opening his own clinic and supporting his mother and siblings is gone.

Nevertheless, Imi finds himself drawn to the jovial and attentive Elim, who has hired him to soothe a painful curse that lies nestled in his chest. Just as seeds of romance begin sprouting, however, Imi discovers the truth about the curse: it’s slowly killing Elim, and even with Imi’s healing abilities, Elim will only live for a few more years.

Grief-stricken, Imi decides to turn his focus toward the less complicated curse of Elim’s cousin-in-law. But the carefully crafted healing spell falls apart, leaving the man a ghost unable to leave his wife’s side, while his body lies dead. With Elim’s help, Imi must steal and perform the counter-spell that will save them. Unfortunately, the spell lies in the vault of Elim’s greatest rival—who also happens to be the new lover of Elim’s ex-girlfriend.

Together they will have to infiltrate a high society party, steal the counter-spell, and revive Elim’s ghostly cousin-in-law.

Because if Imi can fix this, perhaps he can fix Elim too.

[BIO]

Moving the Goal Post

HOW IT ALL STARTED

I don’t know about you, but I began with no expectations whatsoever.

I’ve always wanted to write books. I started writing them when I was a teenager, but I didn’t get really serious about it until my late twenties. Finished the book, but didn’t have the self-confidence to do anything with it. So, I shelved that whole dream for a good decade or so.

I got really into writing fanfiction. You know, as one does. I’d written a lot of it in my twenties (Yes, I had a LiveJournal. NO YOU CANNOT SEE IT), but I stopped for awhile and didn’t pick it up again until my late-thirties. Of course, the funny thing is, I’m not actually a very good fanfiction writer. I’ve got this nasty habit of creating my own characters and playing with canonical worlds until they suit my vision for the story. I will add indoor plumbing and printing presses to settings that don’t have them. Just try and stop me.

Summer of 2018, I wrote just such a story, only it was somehow also a book-length story (120,000 words to be exact). Even more surprising: people loved it. So I wrote a sequel, and people loved that; then I wrote a third book, and then a fourth. It got to the point where I was hoarding fanart, and I even opened a Discord so fans of the series could chat and keep track of updates. And always in the back of my mind there was something tickling my brain, reminding me of the teenager I used to be—the one with all those silly hopes and dreams.

Oh, and my readers kept telling me I should publish it.

A DREAM IS A WISH YOUR HEART MAKES

So, yeah, I started playing with the idea of turning the first book of that series into a novel. I still didn’t really have any goals. I wasn’t picturing myself as an author yet. What a joke, right? Here I was, forty-one years old, still working up the nerve to tell people in my life I wrote fanfiction. Admitting I’d written an actual novel? Not gonna happen.

But, eventually, I… did it. I had a novel.

I had no idea how to navigate this new space. I barely used social media. I also had to make a surprisingly tough decision: no more fanfiction. I learned pretty quickly that I can’t focus on more than one project at a time. Saying good-bye to my series’ fandom was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I still get people messaging me and asking if there’ll be another book. It hurts. I told stories that made a real difference in people’s lives. Nothing huge. Little things like, I had a totally awful day at work, but when I got home I saw you posted a new chapter… That stuff matters. It makes it feel like your story matters.

But now all that was gone. It was just me and my characters.

Now, I already knew about querying. I’d queried a short story in my twenties. More specifically: I’d queried one magazine, received a rejection, and quit. But I guess the dream never truly died because I used to read the Writer’s Marketplace at Books-A-Million. Of course, I couldn’t afford to purchase it, so I’d check it out at the library—not that they ever had the latest edition.

But hey! Everything was online now. Still, the thought of querying… what if I got rejected again? People said my writing was good, but… was it good enough?

Then I discovered #RevPit.

NEW GOAL: GET INTO A MENTORSHIP

This was in spring of 2021. I spent hours writing my answers to all the questions (they released the questions ahead of time) only to realize when it came time to enter that I’d gotten the word count limit wrong. Like, way wrong. I had to quickly cut 90% of my responses so I could squeak in—this was when participants had only a small timeframe to enter, and only so many were even allowed to enter.

Long story short, I didn’t get in. And that’s when I realized I’d set a goal without realizing it. Because I cried when I saw the tweet from the last editor saying she’d made her selection and all emails had been sent out—and I didn’t get one. Yeah. I really cried.

Not that I learned my lesson or anything. I edited the book all summer long, convinced there was something wrong with it. Then, come Fall, I entered another mentorship program: Pitch Wars. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you in suspense here: I didn’t get selected. I also joined a Twitter pitch event for the first time (#PitMad—holy hell was that terrifying—and embarrassing, as real friends and family who followed me on Twitter could see my pitches). Spoiler alert! I received no likes.

Okay, but we soldier on, right? It finally became clear to me what my goal was: get into a mentorship. Because that was safer than querying? As if being selected for a mentorship program is something I have any more control over. But I’m a stubborn bastard. I kept at it. I pitched during #DVPit. Received no likes. Entered AMM. Wasn’t selected. Pitched in #PitMad in December 2021. Received… One! Editor! Like! Entered Rogue Mentor. Didn’t get in. Are you seeing a pattern?

All right, fine, I thought. Nobody wants me? Well then, I’ll just start querying. But I did so convinced my book was a total garbage heap. I queried for six months and received one full request and one partial. The full request ended in a complimentary pass that came with the dreaded “just didn’t fall in love” line. The partial was a form rejection. All the while, I kept reading up on and entering mentorships. Then, in late Spring 2022, I entered the Diverse Voices mentorship.

I. Got. In.

I read the email over and over and over. I couldn’t believe it. YES!!! I got in! I’d set my goal and I’d ACHIEVED it! But was this because I was just so totally awesome and my book was soon to be a runaway bestseller? Of course not. It’s because I was fucking persistent. And because of luck. Because my wonderful mentor just happened to read my book and love it.

TIME TO MOVE THAT MUH’F’N GOAL POST, AMIRIGHT?

The mentorship was great. My book became so much better. My mentor was truly the most awesome person on the planet, and I owe her everything. I’ll admit, getting into the program and working with her did much for my self-esteem. I no longer believed my writing was shit. I no longer thought I was shit.

But all good things come to end. But hey, that meant I was ready to query again, right? And boy was I. Oh, and guess what? I had a new goal: not “get an agent” because surely I wasn’t good enough for that yet. No, my goal became: get a full request.

Aaand I got one! Pretty quickly, too.

And then another. And another. And another. And another.

OKAY, HOLY SHIT, NEW GOAL

Man, those goal posts were leaving sparks in their wake, lemme tell you. Now the one positive thing I can say is I didn’t set an exact number. But I got a lot of requests. Like seventeen, as of this blog post.

And, of course, then they began to slowly come back as passes.

SET ACHIEVABLE GOALS

Which is where I am today, Summer of 2023. My book has queried well. I worked my ass off until I got into a mentorship, then back-patted myself, even though I knew in the back of my mind that luck played a HUGE part in that “success.” Don’t get me wrong. Hard work and talent play their parts, too. When we succeed like this after working so hard—when we get into mentorship programs, when we get requests, when we get offers—we should be proud. But until you get to that moment—if you get to that moment—it just isn’t fucking fair to beat yourself up for not being there yet.

So that’s been my takeaway, and it’s what inspired me to finally start blogging about this whole process. Maybe I’ll write another post in the future about being in a mentorship, or maybe I’ll write one about writing fanfiction and turning it into original fiction.

But for now, I just wanted to exist in this space—this space where I’ve achieved so much yet always seem to struggle to acknowledge my successes. Why is that? I’ve seen other writers (and artists in general) talk about this all the time. When you’re constantly looking ahead at your next achievement, your next goal, you never allow yourself time to relax in the moment and enjoy what you’ve accomplished so far.

And I have come far. From a kid tapping away at the pre-Windows writing program on their family computer to the overly anxious forty-something fanfic writer who just wants to write stories that make queer kids happy… fuck. I’ve come so, so far.

And I’m gonna nail those goal posts into the ground, damn it, and celebrate those goals. At least for now.

I can always build more later.

PRIORY OF THE ORANGE TREE by Samantha Shannon

 

Where do I even begin with this one....

I started the book sometime in May, guestimating it would take me at least a month to get through it. And here it is, the beginning of September. Whelp.

Don't get me wrong. This book is breathtaking. And it is, without question, THE book to have broken my YEARS LONG reading slump. I literally can't wait to pick up another book.

But holy shit it's long.

I think we could've done without the first 2-300 pages of Ead at court. I suspect this was to try and build up the relationship between her and Sabran, but I don't feel that ever really got off the ground. I'm not really sure what they see in each other, but also... I don't really know who they are. Ead is essentially a warrior nun. Which is cool, but I just personally need more than that. Sabran generally comes across as cold and unrelenting (though she becomes abruptly progressive at the end of the book—not that I minded that, but I'm not sure I saw much evidence for this sudden change of heart?). We're sometimes told that she can be easily depressed or gloomy, but I don't feel like we got to see this in her.

But that's okay, honestly. I could easily brush aside their romance and just enjoy the dangerous world of politics and magic that surrounded them both. There were many minor characters surrounding them that were also very interesting; Meg, for instance, or Chassar. 

Tané is next. It took a bit for her personality and story to get off the ground, true. For about 400 pages or so, she was "the girl who fights hard to be the best." Once she experiences her great heartache/fall (I'll try not to give spoilers here), she really starts to grow. But it does take some time. In the end, her bond with Nayimathun is quite sweet, and I loved Nayimathun's gentle confidence in her. Towards the end of the book, I think she starts to see dragons as companions instead of gods, and that's true growth.

Loth is, frankly, a precious bean. I found him to be the second most likable major character (though Tané isn't far behind). In a strange way, he doesn't experience much growth; he's still the same gentle-hearted, earnest guy at the end of the story as he was at its beginning. But there's just something about that earnestness of his that really tugged at my heartstrings. I loved his friendship with Sabran and Ead, but it was the sort of thing that we saw without really feeling. I think this is because he is separated from them before the book even begins, so we don't get to actually experience their deep love for one another. When they finally meet after, what, 4, 500 pages? and embrace, it feels just a wee a bit hollow. Still, that's hardly Loth's fault. For a long portion of the text, I thought he was hinted at as being asexual/aromantic, but every now and then he would, out of nowhere, think about the Donmata Marosa, and I wasn't sure if this fascination/concern of his was supposed to be romantic or not.

And finally... Niclays Roos. Man, what can I really say about this guy? I DEFINITELY have a new favorite character. Forget the other characters. His personality consistently leapt right off the page (and into my heart). Dr. Roos... outcast by a relentlessly proud queen and quietly grieving over the loss of a man he wasn't even allowed to fully be with... he absolutely broke my heart. The world consistently spit on Niclays Roos, and he had to just stand there and take it. This man multiple times throughout the narrative contemplated death, then bitterly called himself a coward for not being able to seek it. If that's not relatable... 

Since he's a major character (and POV character) I always knew another chapter of his was just around the corner, and it often helped me race through some of those early chapters. I also felt the end of his story was handled with compassion and dignity, and I was just... really grateful for that.

Characters aside... it just felt great to read an epic fantasy that wasn't cishet white male-centric. I haven't dabbled in the sub-genre since my high school days, when it was dominated by dudes like Robert Jordan and George R. R. Martin (names that frankly still dominate it... some things never change, I guess 🙄).

All I can say is, when's the HBO show? When's the Amazon show. The Netflix show. This needs to happen. I won't get on a soapbox here, but for the love of the Mother, let's be done with these old white dudes and their crusty, misogynistic stories. 

I'm ready for a change. 😤

TIMEKEEPER by Tara Sim

 

I finished TIMEKEEPER in a frenzy, brushing past words and jumping quickly to new paragraphs to see what would happen next. 

I guess you would expect a book about time to be well-paced. Some books shuffle a bit at the beginning—or worse, grab you for the first ten or twenty pages, the let you drift aimlessly for the next hundred or so. This one didn't. We're tossed right into Danny Hart's world, and we meet his love interest, Colton, pretty quickly, too. There's a cute little twist right at the beginning, and I'm embarrassed to admit I fell for it. Me and Danny, we're a coupla dopes, I guess.

The romance is soft and sweet, and skips along like the fairytales Danny brings for Colton to read. The first kiss was, in a word, precious. Our young heroes do seem to go from "I like you" to "I'd die for you" in a matter of weeks—or months? okay probably months, but it might be that the fast pace sometimes pushed the romance a little to the side so the mystery could shine.

And boy did it. As we got closer and closer to the end, time seemed to speed up accordingly. The revelation of the person (persons?) responsible for it all surprised me as much as it did Danny. It could be, however, that, like the romance, there simply wasn't as much time spent on friendships and professional relationships for us to truly feel the sting—but that's likely the difference between a YA and an adult novel.

That said, I think this could have been an equally good adult book, and, me being an adult 🤣 I probably would have appreciated it a bit more. But I have little doubt young readers will find Danny's relationships with his mother, friends, and boyfriend very relatable. You do tend to burn fast and hot at his age.

This is my first gaslamp fantasy!! and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. (There may be hints of steampunk here, as there are automated workers here and there, but I think this is definitely a precursor novel to gaslamp fantasy.) More fantasy books should take place in this sort of fictional 1800s (and not just England). I'd also love to see more secondary fantasy worlds that are more gaslamp-adjacent. 

Special shoutout to my favorite character, Daphne: I actually would love a story from her POV!

UPROOTED by Naomi Novik

 

I stopped reading years ago.

I don't know why. The last book I read was BITTERBLUE by Kristin Cashore. I enjoyed it. The previous book in that series, FIRE, is still one of my favorite books I've ever read. Nothing about BITTERBLUE made me stop reading. I just did.

I read a lot of fanfiction. When I'm sad or anxious, fanfiction gives me what I want. I click the characters, relationships, genre, and tags I'm looking for, and there it is: the perfect story. Maybe fanfiction spoiled me. Books didn't have tags. Books were mysterious. Books were scary.

I tried to start reading again. I discarded book after book. I'd stop after the first or second chapter. A character would say or do something that annoyed me; the pacing would be off and I'd get bored. 

UPROOTED is the book that broke the cycle.

What is it about this book in particular that made it possible for me to hold on until the end? It wasn't easy. The second I got annoyed or frustrated, I'd set it aside. But then the next day, I'd doggedly return to it. 

At first it was the magic. 

The magic of UPROOTED is unlike anything I've read before. It's chanting, whispering, singing strange, italicized words that may or may not be a real language. Words that are sharp and clear on the tongue of Agnieszka's love interest, Sarkon, but soft and fluid on her own. She tries to speak his magic and fails; he's utterly baffled by hers. There is a hazy masculine and feminine divide between these two magics that only the wizard Alosha seems to stand in opposition to. Sometimes that made me uncomfortable; sometimes it fascinated me.

Next is the Wood.

The Wood is every dark and foreboding forest that dwells at the heart of a fairytale. That makes it imminently recognizable and imminently terrifying. The horrors that occur within the Wood had me skipping frantically over sentences, too anxious to linger over details and only eager to see who would make it back out into the light alive—and still themselves.

And then there was Sarkon, and Kasia, and Solya, and all the others. I didn't always connect with Agnieszka, but I loved the people who loved her. Kasia is worthy of her own story. They all are. The death of a villain towards the end broke my heart in a way I wouldn't have anticipated. And by the end of the book, there were no villains left, if only because there had never been any in the first place.

I'm not saying I'm completely cured (no more than anyone is in this book, I suppose). For a while, I forced myself to read a chapter a day. By the end, I was reading three at once, and only stopping because my head had become too full of this story.

I suspect I would have adored this book had I been able to get my hands on it when I was a kid. It reminds me of Robin McKinley's DEERSKIN in so many ways. I think it's also a wonderful example of an adult fantasy book with a teenaged protagonist. 

I recommend it to anyone who loves fairy tale retellings, feminist fantasy, and new, unexplored settings in fantasy (in this case, a sort of fantasy Poland).