Category: Fantasy with Friends Page 1 of 2

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

What are some of your favorite magical systems in fantasy? Do you like magic to be explained in detail or to be a bit vague? Do you think magic should have a “cost” or not?

I think the best way for me to tackle these three questions is all at once. But in general–I prefer magic to be at least a bit vague, otherwise it’s “science.” And I don’t know if it “should” have a cost, but most of the time, I enjoy it more when it does.

I really should’ve done more thinking ahead of time before trying to list favorite magic systems, I literally have no idea what I’m going to end up mentioning.

I really enjoy Newtonian magic as seen in The Rivers of London–and its cost to circuit boards and eventual cost to the brains of practitioners due to Thaumaturgical degradation. Although I have frequently been impatient at how long it takes Peter and others to make progress in learning the systems. At the same time, I’m intrigued by some of the other schools of magic that Peter is encountering.

On the other hand, the magic of Abercrombie’s The First Law is described so vaguely that it’s more mystery than system. Which reminds me of Tolkien’s lack of system (and, I believe, Shannara’s). It’s more magical if it can’t be explained by rules–it’s just something that happens in the way the user wants it to. There’s something inherently more interesting about that. (as fun as it is to wrap your brain around something).

I think Butcher gives us a good mix of mystery and rules in The Dresden Files and The Furies of Calderon. I think he’s on the way to giving us something similar in The Cinder Spires. Most of the cost there comes from exhaustion and the mental/physical toll taken in using it (oh, and to tech, too). You can learn a lot about the rules of this type of magic or that–here’s how potion-making work, here’s how fire magic works, etc. And then the Fury-based abilities of Calderon are just cool–even if it’s a little cheapened by everyone (except poor young Tavi) having some.

If there are rules to the magic in what Arcandius Moog does, I can’t see it. Which just makes it a joy to watch.

The clear divisions of magic abilities and classes in Benedict Jacka’s Alex Verus series are really cool to see. There are sort of rules to it all, but Jacka doesn’t give us a lot of info about it (which is just as good as there not being rules). We see how Alex uses his precognition, with a little bit of understanding of some of this allies’ abilities–but just some ideas.

Most of the magic in Jacka’s new series, Inheritance of Magic seems very rule-based, and is hard to describe as magic, it’s much more science-y. Now, I find it fascinating to watch Stephen’s autodidactic stumbling through it, don’t get me wrong. It’s just not as fun as the range-free stuff of others. The cost of this magic is primarily front-loaded, you have to have the right materials to form something–and I like that. Typically when I think of costs to magic, it’s personal cost to use it. But in this case, it’s about having all the stuff that goes into making a sigil.

That reminds me of the magic in Kevin Hearne’s Ink & Sigil books–there it’s about the materials, too. You have to know how to create the sigil, the right kind of inks to use, and then the best paper. The cost is simple–use a sigil and it’s gone. But as long as you have paper, ink, and a good pen–and the time to combine them–you’re good to go.

Then there’s the cost-heavy Seven Kennings trilogy by Hearne. Using magic takes time off of your life, people can age decades in a night if they use enough power. Seeing some people take those chances because they have to adds a lot to the drama of the situation. But it loses a few points for me by everyone having abilities.

Babel, or The Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution has a very set-in-stone (or a precious metal) system. R. F. Kuang does a decent job of setting that up and explaining it to the reader overall. Especially when you consider that the magic system is of so little importance to the book. The cost to that magic is more of a moral and ethical thing than anything else. And that’s maybe a greater cost than some of the others on this list.

One more and then I’ll get off this ramble. M.L. Wang’s Blood Over Bright Haven has a great system to its magic. I was utterly fascinated by it and wanted more and more of it–well, until a certain point in the book where the protagonist, Sciona, really figures out the system for the first time. Then it becomes fascinating and horrifying. And the costs? Unthinkable. But I won’t say more than that. We’re all better off not knowing.

Time prevents me from getting into Raistlin’s magic, or the Kingkiller Chronicles’, or Dark Lord Davi’s magic (as fun as that might be). Or any of the others that might come to mind as I ramble on. But I think this is enough free-associating as I scan my bookshelves (and skip over more books than I want to).

I look forward to seeing what other people writing on this have to say. I expect to be reminded of a handful of things I should’ve remembered for this post, and to get some leads on new-to-me books.

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

When reading a favorite fantasy series, which reading order would you recommend? For instance, when reading Narnia, do you think people should go by publication order or by chronological order? Or, if you like to recommend Tolkien, do you think readers should start with LotR or The Hobbit? Feel free to discuss any favorite fantasy series you have!

Generally speaking, for your first read it should always be in publication order. Period.

For re-reads, that’s up to the reader and their interests. Maybe once in chronological order, just for giggles. But that’s only on a re-read.

The exception I’d make to that (at this point in my life, I can think of one—I’m open to others) is reading The Lord of the Rings prior to The Hobbit. I came to LotR later in life than I should have—having been unable to get through The Hobbit in childhood. Yes, yes, I know—there are so many red flags raised by this admission. I have no defense. Anyway, in college, I had several friends tell me to skip The Hobbit and jump right to LotR. A few years later, I didn’t pay attention to them and started with it—and not only finished, but then went on to read the rest. As the two were clearly written for different audiences, it totally would’ve worked to do skip The Hobbit, LotR tells you everything you need know about its predecessor, and does so at the level of the rest of the series.

Narnia, on the other hand needs to be read in the publication order the first time. Spoilers ahead. In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the reader—like the children—don’t understand who the witch is or who this Aslan everyone’s talking about it. You’re confused and in suspense just like them. If you, as some will tell you, read The Magician’s Nephew first—you will run into problems. 1. You won’t give a hoot about the lampstand bit. 2. You will know who Aslan is, how much greater his power is than the White Witch’s. So when everyone’s telling the children to wait for Aslan, the reader can go “oh yeah,” he’ll sort it out. 3. You’ll wonder why no one is using Jadis’ name—and really, someone who’s only known by a title rather than a name is more ominous. 4. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is a better book than The Magician’s Nephew and is more likely to get people to read on. There are likely better and more reasons along those lines, but I’ll save that for better writers than me—and I need to get going anyway.

Yes, there’s that letter that Lewis wrote to a young reader where he said he didn’t care, but suggests the chronological order. I’d point out that Lewis isn’t infallible. But also, he’s writing to someone who’d read the books at least 4 times. Not a new reader.

Before I get into things more—let me talk about a couple of other series.

Let’s start with Harry Connolly’s Dark Fantasy/Urban Fantasy series, Twenty Palaces. Del Rey published three books in the series and decided not to continue (tragically, oh, so tragically). We pick up with our protagonist after he’s been on a mission with an enforcer of a society that controls/polices magic for some time. After Del Rey declined to continue the series, Connolly published a prequel where the protagonist meets the enforcer. Frankly, I cared more about Annalise coming into Ray’s life as a flashback. You can stomach the way she treats Ray when she first meets him better than if that were your intro to her. Seeing Ray get his first/only spell is more enjoyable when you’ve seen it in action, etc.

The next series isn’t fantasy. But it’ll make my point better. Gregory Mcdonald’s Fletch series (don’t judge them by the Chase movies, which are fine for what they are, but they can’t hold a candle to the books). Here are the two orders to choose from:

Publication Order of Fletch Books

Chronological Order of Fletch Books

source: Book Series in Order

I’d add that reading them in any order works, too. When I first encountered the series, Fletch Won hadn’t been published, and I got the rest in a haphazard fashion by buying whatever was available at a used bookstore or two. Now, Fletch is the best way to encounter the character for the first time. I’d argue that the publication order is a really good way to read them—with the random way I stumbled onto coming in a close second (although you should do Fletch Won and Fletch, Too last even then). Like with The Magician’s Nephew, Fletch Won answers questions raised by Fletch and maybe Fletch and the Widow Bradley. And that’s a big factor. But the biggest is that when Carioca Fletch (a direct sequel to Fletch—starting hours after it) Mcdonald starts flexing different authorial muscles, and his storytelling shifts. Fletch Won is closer to the style of the other books in the series, but is still closer to Carioca. Fletch, Too is clearly more of the same kind of storytelling that started in Carioca—it’s deeper, not as dialogue-driven, there’s more atmosphere, it’s about the locale as much as it is the story and characters. Also, there’s a lack of concern for news stories, which is a driving force in the others.

This gets us back to my main point—prequels come along and explain things that the reader already knows—no one cares about the lampstand in Nephew, no one will care about the origin of Ray’s Ghost Knife (well, it’s a fun scene regardless, but you won’t care as much), or no one will care about Fletch meeting a woman right before his wedding if we don’t already know that the new woman will be his second ex-wife. If you read them in publication order, on the other hand…

But all three point to something else—the author has grown, their ideas about the series have matured and changed—in some cases, the first book or two were written without any plan of books to come in the series, and were written that way. It’s only in retrospect that an author decides to go back and explain some things—or play with things we already know.

Of course, that’s just my opinion; I could be wrong. I look forward to seeing what other people writing on this have to say. I expect it to be better (and likely shorter) than this..

I didn’t get this up yesterday–you might have noticed things were busy around here. A day late and at least a quarter short, here’s my

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Do you currently prefer standalone fantasies or series? Is there a certain number of books that seems like “too much,” whether that means the series feels intimidating to start or just that the author might need to move on to something else? Is there a point at which you worry that a series is just a “cash grab?”

Ahhh, yet another This or that, Coke or Pepsi, kind of question that I shrug at. It depends?

There is something so satisfying about opening a book and spending 150-600 pages immersed in a complete idea. Beginning-middle-end and then you’re done.

t the same time–the pleasure of spending years with a story, watching characters grow, develop, storylines going deeper and more intricate than they could in a standalone…there’s something so fantastic about that.

Really it depends on the story that the author wants to tell. If a story needs multiple volumes–and the author has the chops to develop it over them–then bring it on. If the story wavers too much, gets too thin, or runs out of steam somewhere in the second or third volume–than editors and authors have made a mistake.

Similarly, I don’t think there’s a magic number. And that again goes back to the story the author is trying to tell, and the skill of the author.

I’m not saying there are no “cash grabs” in Fantasy fiction, but there have to be easier (and more profitable) ways to grab some. But I’ll let others who know more than I do weigh in on that.

I thought I had more to say on this, but I’m just coming up with variations on one idea: it just depends on the author, the themes, the characters, and the story. Oh, well, sales and a publisher’s willingness to keep buying the books (unless it’s a self-published series, then it’s just sales). Can I think of books that I wish had a sequel but didn’t? Yes. Can I think of series that were cut short because of sales/publishers? Sure. Can I think of series that went on too long, and should’ve been walked away from while they were still good? Yup. Series that needed one more book to really say everything? Yeah.

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, I’m expecting better answers than mind.

I didn’t get this up yesterday–you might have noticed things were busy around here. A day late and at least a quarter short, here’s my

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Are there any fantasy books that you think had a movie adaptation that was even better than the book?

I can think of one right off the top of my head. It’s also one of the first movies I turn to when the conversation of “Adaptations vs. Books” comes up.

Matthew Vaughn’s Stardust.

If you’ve watched it and have read the novel, I can almost guarantee you agree. (if not, please tell me—I’ve only run into people who agree, I’d love to hear an argument for the book). I’d love to do a more in-depth comparison, but I don’t have time for a re-read of the book (I did flip through the illustrated version to see if anything jumped out), but after writing a draft of this, I did watch the movie—the power of suggestion. Not that it takes much for me to want to watch it, and I was so glad I indulged.

One of the more obvious strengths is the depiction of Captain Shakespeare, his crew, and the scenes that involve them. The film changed the tone and approach, making it more entertaining. And, then, come on…DeNiro.

The story is focused. The tone is sharpened. It feels like a fairy tale with 21st-century sensibilities. More than that–it’s a fairy tale come to life. The book is a fine, stand-alone fantasy, with some creative touches.

The casting was fantastic. How do you not swoon over Yvaine the instant she shows up? Not just the way they shot Daines, but the way she asserts herself the instant Tristan shows up.

Really, the only thing that’d make the film better is if Tristan got into a hallway battle. No one (including Vaughn and Cox) knew in 2007 just how good Cox would be in those. You think Humphrey revealed his cowardice when Tristan does that sword trick? Put the two of them in a hallway and watch Tristan run up a wall. (as hard as it is to imagine Cavill quaking at Cox)

Okay, I’m getting off target here. Basically, like I said the book was…fine. It comes across as less-fine once you watch the movie–or if you come to it after the movie. I’ve tried the book twice, just to see if it was the time I encountered it. I liked it moderately more the second time, but really, it just made me want to watch the movie.

I’m just rambling now–without re-reading the book, it’s hard to talk about the way it’s not as good as the adaptation. Generally, in every conceivable way the movie is better–but I’d prefer to be more detailed.

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, I’m looking for some new movies to watch.

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Do you like reading fairy tale retellings? What, in your opinion, makes a good retelling?

I don’t know that I have a real passion for fairy tale retellings, but more often than not, I enjoy them when I run into them.

I break them into two varieties–straight retellings. I’ve only got one example that comes to mind–Hansel and Gretel by Stephen King and Maurice Sendak (which I didn’t write about, which bothers me, I liked what I thought I wrote). There’s an emphasis here or there that the author brings to mind, or a certain amount of their own style, while retaining a Straight Outta Grim feel. I’ve read others like it, but they’re not coming to mind.

The other type is a reinvention–tweaking the setting, updating, gender-flipping, setting them in the future or whatever. With those…the necessities are that you retain enough of the original that it’s recognizable, but the author throws more than their emphasis or style. But then, you throw it into the future with cyborgs, like Marissa Meyer. Or make Cinderella a secret agent along with some of the other princesses after their “happily ever after”s, like Jim C. Hines did. Or, you take all the Prince Charmings (who really aren’t that impressive when it comes down to it) and throw them into an effort to save all their kingdoms from a common foe. Or–last example–you play with the Fairy Tale tropes and the power of narrative, throw in some guns and crime, like Seanan McGuire did in her Indexing series. I’m waiting to see how M.K. Felix goes beyond her Robin Hood/Snow White mashup before I try to summarize–but I’m eager to see what she does. But the basic elements need to be there–Red Riding Hood should wear red–it’d be great if there was a hood–some sort of wolf-figure and a grandmother; from there, the author can do what they want, as long as it’s interesting.

Or you take a couple of elements/characters and throw them into some larger work–like when the Gruffs show up in the Dresden Files (and Harry can only wish they were billy goats), or Snow White shows up as one of Toby Daye’s most dangerous foes. That works pretty well, too.

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, I ended up not having as much time as I intended to write this and am looking forward to some thoughtful posts.

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Is there a particular fantasy that got you interested in the genre? Do you remember any of the earliest fantasy books you read?

I think one of the earliest–maybe the earliest–fantasy novels I read was Jane Yolen’s The Wizard of Washington Square. I’m not positive it’s the right one, I spend a good amount of time looking for it this weekend, and it feels right. And I have a strong memory for where it was on the library shelves–and Yolen fits for alphabetical by author placement.

Several others followed–those that stand out the most are Julie Edwards’ The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (an all-time favorite), Robert C. O’Brien’s Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH was something I read a dozen or more times. A Wrinkle in Time, A Wind in the Door, and A Swiftly Tilting Planet were in heavy rotation (the fourth book in the series wasn’t released until I’d moved on from “Juvenile” fiction). The Phantom Tollbooth…what can be said about it that hasn’t been several times before? I’m not going to say anything about Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson, because the emotional scars are still raw. I have strong memories of reading Below the Root by Zilpha Keatley Snyder (not just because it didn’t help me at all with the Commodore 64 game), although I couldn’t find the rest of the trilogy in bookstores or the library.

Also, how cool is the name Zilpha?

There are two big series in my mind, though. John Christopher’s The Sword of the Spirits. I sadly remember very little of it–but I remember reading it often, and that it was one of the earlier books I remember that had a lot of morally gray moments and protagonists who weren’t to be admired all that much.

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again (and again, and again, knowing me)–the big one for me is The Chronicles of Prydain. The Chronicles of Narnia and/or The Voyage of the Dawn Treader turned me into a C.S. Lewis reader, but the saga of Taran, the Assistant Pig-Keeper, Princess Eilonwy, the ex-king/would-be bard, Fflewddur Fflam, and the oracular pig, Hen Wen…that’s what turned me into a Fantasy reader. The stories based on Welsh-mythology, tapped into my imagination–shaped it, too, actually. Life, love, laughter, and loss–it’s all there. I’ve read the series twice in the last decade, and it still works. It’s my favorite from my childhood, and it’s one of my favorites still.

A few years after that, I came across the DragonLance Chronicles, DragonLance: Chronicles, the original Shannara trilogy and Magic Kingdom for Sale/Sold, and…well, we’ve left “earliest.”

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, iT’s fun looking back on what early books shaped the readers we become.

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Has reading a fantasy book ever inspired you to do further research into something else?

Not really–I mean, Fantasy is pretty much about beyond reality, right? I mean, occasionally, I’d do a quick web search to check for a detail or two on a notable fae or mythological figure–just to make sure I remembered them correctly. I did that with Grossman’s The Bright Sword when it came to a knight or two, and some of the characters in Strange Practice by Vivian Shaw. That’s as close as I can think of when it comes to research.

Well, I mean–there’s looking into the backlist of a new-to-me author.

This prompt did made me think of How to Slay a Dragon: A Fantasy Hero’s Guide to the Real Middle Ages by Cait Stevenson.

What should you ask a magic mirror? How do you outwit a genie? Where should you dig for buried treasure? Fantasy media’s favorite clichés get new life from How to Slay a Dragon: A Fantasy Hero’s Guide to the Real Middle Ages, a historically accurate romp through the medieval world. Each entry presents a trope from video games, books, movies, or TV—such as saving the princess or training a wizard—as a problem for you to solve, as if you were the hero of your own fantasy quest. Through facts sourced from a rich foundation of medieval sources, you will learn how your magical problems were solved by people in the actual Middle Ages.

Divided into thematic subsections based on typical stages in a fantastical epic, and inclusive of race, gender, and continent, How to Slay a Dragon is perfect if you’re curious to learn more about the time period that inspired some of your favorite magical worlds or longing to know what it would be like to be the hero of your own mythical adventure.

Were I the sort to be inspired, I think that many of the questions I’d want to research were touched on by this book. Honestly, I was disappointed in the book–I really didn’t think it lived up to the premise. But still, there were some entertaining bits. Obviously, your results may vary. It wasn’t research per se–but it’s me looking into various and sundry fantasy tropes.

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, if only because I expect a good recommendation or six.

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

What fantasy books do you think will be classics in the future?

This question is making me stumble. That’s not Pages Unbound’s fault. It’s just the way my brain works.

First, I’m stumbling over the idea of “contemporary.” Are we talking about the last couple of years, the 21st century, or something else? And, yes, I’m certain that the way this question is phrased is that it’s up to me to decide for the purpose of this post. I’m sticking with this century, although I’m squeamish about calling it contemporary.

For the purposes of this post, I’m not going to define classic as anything more than “you know it when you see it.”

The other problem I’m having with this question is that I don’t know how many people can predict what’ll become a classic. How many people e reading about that band in the Mines of Moria back in 1954 were thinking, “There will be an entire genre that’s largely defined by people reacting to/reacting against/building from this book?” Did Peter S. Beagle’s editor know the impact that little book about a unicorn would have on countless readers for decades?

Who knows what effect the events in the world and what’s being published are going to have on the aesthetics of generations to come? It’s so hard to guess what books will be read in 2060, what books that writers of 2090 will resonate with. How many of those things we’re throwing awards at will be punchlines to our great-grandkids?

Isn’t that part of the fun? Reading something and having no idea what people who aren’t on social media are thinking about it? What’s going to get passed on to a child/grandchild—and what percentage of that will actually get read? (I know full well what my kids do with the books I give them, but that doesn’t stop me from trying). I love it when I stumble onto someone younger than me stumbling onto The Prydain Chronicles and feeling what I felt in elementary school. I imagine a lot of Tolkien’s early fans felt a sense of satisfaction and surprise seeing his work captivate their children and grandchildren. I’m eager to look around in my dotage and see what I recognize on bookstore shelves—or the shelves in people’s homes (I’m one of those people who spend half their attention as a guest scoping out the titles on my host’s shelves to really understand them)

And lastly, I know that no one is going to bring up my guesses in 25 years to point and laugh at me. No one is going to Nelson Muntz me. (Will anyone in 25 years know Nelson Muntz?) This is, of course, assuming I live to my mid-70s. (get your mockery in early, folks—you don’t know what this sedentary lifestyle is going to do to my longevity).* Still, I hate giving an answer I can’t feel reasonably sure is correct.

My big prediction is that there are going to be fewer White European Dudes (percentage-wise) in the Fantasy Canon. We’re going to see a lot of non-Europeans, a lot of Women, and read a lot of voices that will make Tom Bombadil say, “That’s a little strange.” There are plenty of future classics that aren’t making a lot of Best Seller lists here in the States/UK, and my grandkids are going to go wild over them and shake their heads at me for missing.

But that meandering is not what the question asked for. So here’s my stab at it…just a stream of consciousness here, totally not binding. I hope that The Name of the Wind will be seen with affection by a bunch of people who can’t be bothered to care about the fate of The Doors of Stone. I don’t know if I’d put money on The Lies of Locke Lamora standing the test of time, but I’d love it if it would. It’s possible that all/part of A Song of Ice and Fire will be considered a classic—see TNotW, but all of them feel less stand-alone-ish than Rothfuss’ book is, so we might actually need a conclusion. I’m sure something by Jemisin—if not her entire oeuvre—will be a classic, I don’t know that I can choose one. Brandon Sanderson almost has to have a future in the canon—if only because of volume. Terry Pratchett, too (but will people find him funny?) R.L. Kuang? John Gwynn? Nnedi Okorafor? S.A. Chakraborty?

As much as I adore some of Gaiman’s works** I’m guessing his stuff is doomed to obscurity***. I don’t know if Joe Abercrombie is going to last longer than this generation (I hate to say that, I hope he does), ditto for Seanan McGuire or Jim Butcher. I’m not trying to throw shade on the subgenres, but I don’t know that the best Romantasy or Cozy Fantasy authors are going to be remembered, much less celebrated.

I cannot wait to see what titles and authors are mentioned by the less cautious bloggers–a.k.a. those who don’t have to issue paragraphs of disclaimers before their anxiety will let them publish–have to say. Check out this post for links to the braver-than-me-souls.

* Wow, this is taking a dark turn.

** Stay with me here.

*** Deservedly.

Do you have responses to this? (either for the comment section below or from your own post)

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Do you have any favorite subgenres of fantasy such as urban fantasy, historical fantasy, etc.?

Well, I think cozy fantasy is becoming a real favorite—cozy/cozy adjacent books. There’s the pure escapism, the warmth of friendship, family, the nigh-obligatory romance (not always that heavy, so even gruff guys like myself can handle it).

Shining Examples: Miss Percy’s Pocket Guide to the Care and Feeding of British Dragons (etc.), Legends and Lattes (etc.), The Guard in the Garden, Cursed Cocktails (etc.); Mrs. Covington’s.

Are portal fantasies considered a sub-genre? If so, I’d say I have a real soft-spot for them, ever since I read what happened to Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace after they got sucked into that painting of a ship. I can’t say that I’ve read a lot of them—but they’re practically an automatic-like for me.

Examples that jump to mind: The Great Way series (it’s a portal fantasy involving two non-Earth realities, which adds to the cool-factor), The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, The Guardians of Aandor series, The Blackwood Saga, the Nav’Aria series, and the Wayward Children series.

But really, when it comes to sub-genres, it’s all about Urban Fantasy for me. Those who spend too much time looking at the Fiction categories at the top of my page will note that I have 2 for Fantasy—Urban and everything else. I read some things as a child that I think qualify (don’t ask me what—I wish I could remember, I want to re-read them), but moved on to “regular Fantasy” because there wasn’t a lot of options. Then TV’s Buffy Summers came along and reminded me just how great the idea was. A few years later, I met Harry Dresden, and that was so much better than anything Buffy could do (no UPN/WB budget constraints)—and I discovered the genre had a name. Harry was quickly followed by Rachel Morgan and her crew, then Kitty Norville, and a few others I’ve largely forgotten. Soon after that I met Simon Canderous, Mercy Thompson, Toby Daye, Peter Grant and the Folly; the Iron Druid Chronicles, Alex Verus, The Twenty Palaces, InCryptid, The Spellmason Chronicles, Jane Yellowrock/Soulwood; Fred, the vampire Accountant; An Inheritance of Magic series, The Unorthodox Chronicles, The Chronos Chronicles, The Inner Circle…and so many others. One of my sons got me hooked on Skulduggery Pleasant, I should hasten to add—UF is a thing even in the Middle Grade world.

Why does it have an appeal? I think a lot of it comes from the way they ultimately become some sort of detective novel—which is my first love when it comes to storytelling in any format. Throw in magic and the other goodies that come along with fantasy, and I’m as happy as a well-fed ogre.

There was a time—shortly after Rachel, Ivy, and Jenks joined Harry, Murph, and Bob in my “I have to read more like this” list that UF is all I looked for—new-to-me Urban Fantasies—in bookstores and in my library. This led me to read a lot of things that I’d just as soon forget (and largely have)—but it also got me to read some things I really enjoyed, and wish I could remember. But it’s the series that really stuck with me—the way they all deal with the same ideas in very different ways. For example—the Dresden files has 3 types of werewolves, Kitty Norville has multiple lycanthrope species, Mercy Thompson/Alpha and Omega have just one—and they don’t match Dresden’s (but do come close to Kitty’s werewolves); the Iron Druid’s weres seem more like Kitty’s, but aren’t quite; The Cronos Chronicles‘ are along those lines—but significant differences remain. There’s also the way that they depict the non-supernatural world around them. Are some/all of the types of magical/fantasy types known to normies? How do they react/relate to them? Can electronics survive in the presence of a mage/wizard? And so on. Don’t even get me started on the variety of Fae represented by the above, or we could be here a long time. You can get that variety in Fantasy—you can’t come close in the muggle-world detective novels.

So there you go–my favotie subgenre is Urban Fantasy, but it has some competition. Especially if that Nobledark thing takes off.

I’m really looking forward to some of the <a href=”https://pagesunbound.wordpress.com/2026/04/20/my-favorite-fantasy-subgenres-fantasy-with-friends/” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener>other posts in response to this prompt–if only because I expect a good recommendation or six.

Do you have responses to this? (either for the comment section below or from your own post)

Fantasy with Friends is a weekly meme hosted by the good people over at Pages Unbound. Fantasy with Friends poses questions each Monday about fantasy, either as a genre as a whole or individual works.

This week’s prompt is:

Do you prefer low or high fantasy? Or both?

As with almost every question I can think of along these lines, I’m going to have to go with “the one I’m currently reading/most currently read.” Unless, of course, I didn’t like that book. I can name favorites on either side of that division (although I’m afraid some purists would consider a lot of things I dub “low” are “high” thanks to the subjective nature of the categories).

But…wand to my head, I’d have to say high fantasy is my preference. I want all the bells and whistles—magic users, fantasy creatures, mystical MacGuffins, ancient prophecies, maybe even a Chosen One, and so on. They can be dark or silly—the escapism from this world, the

Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled Citywas so entertaining that I didn’t even notice there was zero magic, and is the first example I can think of for “low” fantasy. The minimal (or at least seemingly minimal magic of) The First Law trilogy or the Eddie LaCrosse books is really appealing—sure, there’s a possibility that a dragon or wizard might show up, but basically it’s about a human, their wits, and ability to use a weapon against some challenge. Although it’s a lot of fun to see when the high fantasy elements do seep in. I have to admit that in the last few months I’ve read two fantasy novels that were so low, I lost patience with them and kept muttering “where’s the fantasy?” as I read them.

Most of the cozy fantasies I’ve read qualify as “low,” if you cave out a caveat or three. And it’s generally the “low” parts of those that make them the most interesting, the interpersonal stuff plus the other—opening a jam shop, becoming a local beat cop, baking, running a bar and creating nachos, and so on. The “high” bits are just what make them cozy fantasy, and not cozy fiction.

But when you (in the general sense, not necessarily you) think of “Fantasy,” you’re inevitably thinking of High Fantasy—the One Ring, Dragons, mages like Raistlin, vorpal swords, elves, dwarves, kenders/hobbits/halflings, goblins, orcs, and so on. There’s a reason for that. They’re characteristic of the genre, they’re what (probably) initially attracted you to the genre, and they are the source of a lot of the fun of the genre.

I’m really looking forward to some of the other posts in response to this prompt, if only because I expect a good recommendation or six.

Do you have responses to this? (either for the comment section below or from your own post)