tamora pierce my heart

I just imagine how Jon and Thayet’s intelligence briefings must have gone during the Immortals series.

“The girl you met last week just called a Kraken up from the depths to attack enemy ships. Oh, and she has a dragon now.”

“So the wildmage and Salmalin went to visit a local noble, and they think some wolves have uncovered a plot to usurp the throne. And, uh, I’m not sure how to say this, sire, but she can apparently turn into animals???”

“You know how much you hate Stormwings? And Emperor Ozorne? Well, funny thing about that, Your Majesties….”

(Basically, Daine is amazing)

anonymous asked:

Would you do another thing with Daja? Or maybe Lark or Rosethorn. Because I'm currently questioning and I envy the easy acceptance of their gayness/bisexuality. There's no way in hell my family would be okay with me not being straight so yeah, I'd kinda like to live vicariously through them for a bit sorry for asking.

don’t ever be sorry for asking kindly for things, nonny. this one’s all yours.

when they come home from namorn, a lot of things happen—

little bear comes running and cleans all their faces while briar complains about his manly pride and nice clothes (he gives the old pup a belly rub later, when no one but daja can see him go soft and tired, because he knows she will not taunt or comfort, just stand). 

glaki comes pounding out of discipline cottage, wraps around tris like the vegetable garden is twining around briar, the way evvy is pretending she doesn’t want to, and tris pets glaki’s hair and tries not to remember how much she has grown without her.

sandry will step back into her uncle’s court the next day, and she will be sure, suddenly more sure than she’d been the whole ride back, that she had made the right decision. the citadel will smell like sealing wax and old stone and dried ink. when she steps into her uncle’s study, there will be a mantle of responsibility returned to her shoulders that is just the right weight, that is just what she wants. her uncle will look up from his letters and the light of pride in his eyes will be better than all the riches and legacy of the inheritance that she signed away to a good man. 

for now, though: “i thought the snow might give your roots frostbite,” evvy sniffs at briar. 

“doubting my training,” rosethorn warns. “i taught my boy better than that." 

it’s when rosethorn hugs briar that evvy breaks down and squeezes him tight around the ribs. briar presses one cheek into evvy’s kerchief, tangles a hand in rosethorn’s habit and doesn’t let go until he knows he can grin like he can’t smell woodsmoke on even this peaceful air. 

while glaki chases chime around the yard, tris watching like the fond sister she pretends she’s not, while briar teases evvy and sandry buries her face in the sensible cotton smell of lark, daja slips out the garden gate. 

daja climbs over the flat walks of winding circle until she finds frostpine’s forge, its little bedroom tucked above it, the sharp scents of the metals and the rounded undertone of coal and wood. she wishes everything else were so easy to distinguish by smell as copper and tin, gold and iron. 

his hug is bone-crushing, acrid, and his eyes are clever and dark when he pulls back and looks at her. frostpine gives her a spare apron of his that she’s almost big enough to wear now and a hammer that’s swimming with his magics and they strike metal, shape and sweat in silence until the day is over. daja makes hinges and crafts sigils for some heavy lock boxes that she’s sure even briar would have trouble breaking into. she makes a bucketful of nails, for old times’ sake. 

they forsake the warmth of the baths, after, and go plunge into the sea instead, like they’re hot steel they want to quench. daja’s not sure she’s the right temperature for this, the right hue of glowing red. what if it makes her brittle, not strong? what if her ore was poor quality in the first place? a trader turned lugsha, who weaseled her way back in; a woman who loves beautiful women and then leaves them. 

frostpine gets the story out of her, because he is safe the way she has known few men to ever be, because there are few people more patient in silence than she is but he is one. daja has never had a broken heart before, and she has never been one for many words, but she tries to explain. 

sandry will try to help—she will take daja out riding, keep her moving, because that is how sandry outruns her griefs, always has. she pours her heart into other things, other work. 

tris will give her books to read, because they give you a way out to better things, because they give you something to put between your face and a world that’s not interested in looking at you right. 

briar will take her out to meet pretty young women, like delicate flowers, and daja will feel sooty no matter how well she scrubs her smiths’ hands clean. 

but frostpine listens quietly. he asks her if she can smell the little bits of metal in the waves, the buried treasure far offshore. “your nose has gotten better,” he says. “i’m sorry about rizu.” they dry off, then soak in the communal baths after all, and then he walks her back to discipline. he kisses her on the forehead, warm hands on her cheeks, bristling beard ticking her nose, and says, “you might want to talk to your foster mothers.” 

"you know, rosie broke my heart once,” lark says companionably, when daja does ask, shyly, over tea and honey and milk. rosethorn blushes furiously and daja stares. lark starts to tell a story and rosethorn stomps off to find a stronger tea. 

they tell daja stories of lark the young acrobat, who fell in love with every pretty girl who came to her shows and didn’t kiss one. it’s late and they are all sleepy, guards down, when rosethorn talks about the first boy she loved, haystacks and very young promises, angry fathers. lark was the fourth woman rosethorn decided to love, and the other three names roll off rosethorn’s tongue, easy. daja listens hard for something like sorrow, like regret, and doesn’t hear it. 

“we are a lot more than the places we have decided to lay down bits of our heart,” says lark, “or the people we have offered to give our hearts to. but that’s one part of you all the same: who and what and how you love. i know it hurts right now, chickadee, but you loved her and she loved you. that matters, no matter if it lasts. living, you get bruises. you get strong muscles and bones that don’t heal right. you get so many homes and broken hearts. you live in all those places and you don’t always get to choose which ones to keep.”

“you’re a hardy one,” says rosethorn. “you’ll outlive it.”

“what rosie means is: we love you, and we’re here if you need it.”

after, daja climbs up to the thatched roof where they watched clouds get born as children. the sun is rising. she has her heavy brass-tipped staff and her own smallest chisel. she wants to carve something into the metal here, into the life’s story written out in the circling design. it might be rizu’s name. it might be her own. 

wowow idk how many of you get tamora pierce’s email newsletter but there’s an update on the first numair/arram book!

And what is it I’ve just finished?  Arram Draper, ten years old and a very young student at the School for Mages at the University of Carthak, has a nearly fatal accident at the imperial games, only to be rescued by a beginning gladiator.  It is the start of an eventful year at the university, when he meets two new friends, Ozorne, an imperial prince, and Varice, a northerner. All three are advanced students who share a love of fun, wit, animals, and magic. Their studies take them through lessons with strange magics, plague duties, attendance at imperial festivities, suspicious deaths, and the perils of growing up.  Readers of other Tortall books will meet familiar characters with new guises, while new readers will not need to have read previous books to understand the life of an awkward, shy, gentle, goofy, tremendously talented young man with a knack for making truly vicious enemies.

release date is now spring 2018!

I adore the relationships between training masters and their pages who go on to become squires, knights - heroes even ugh. I’ve just finished rereading the Protector of the Small Quartet and the growing mutual respect between Kel and Wyldon makes me all weepy. ;_;

“Mindelan.” Once that voice had driven through solid terror to make her pay heed. She turned toward it now, and saw a broad hand held out to her. She took it. “Very well done. Very well indeed. You listened to my advice about your shieldbut then, I expected no less. I only wish

Kel grinned foolishly, her ears still ringing. They made a nice counterpoint to Lord Wyldon’s voice, she thought.

“I know, my lord,” she managed to say. “You wish I were a boy. But being a girl is more fun. More fun-er? Is that right?”

“Go lie down, Mindelan,” Wyldon advised. “You’re tilt-silly.”

“Yessir,” she said, automatically obeying the command. Somehow she climbed out of the tilting saddle and slithered to the ground. The two monitors caught her.

“Mithros watch over you, Keladry,” Wyldon said.

— Squire, chapter 15

“You see?” Wyldon asked, sardonic. “You aren’t sure that I didn’t help to create Vinson and Joren either. I told lads to be aggressive, to concentrate on the goal. Mindelan, it may be that the best thing said of my tenure is that you were my student. Should that be the case, I am the wrong man for the post. I did all I could to get rid of you. Your probation was wrong. You know that, I know it. I was harder on you than any lad. Thank Mithros I remembered my honor and let you stay when you met the conditionsbut it was a near thing. Next time I might not heed the voice of honor.”

Kel watched him pack for a while, unable to think of a reply. He had confirmed what she had wondered about for years. Still, she didn’t think he should go. “Sir, I learned so much from you,” she said at last. “You’re the kind of knight I want to be.”

He regarded her with the strangest expression in his eyes. “I am not,” he said. But that you believe it is the greatest compliment I will ever receive.“

— Squire, chapter 14

Once she knew her friends were out of earshot, she straightened and met Lord Wyldon’s eyes. "You have every right to yell at me, my lord,” she said. “Go ahead. I deserve worse.”

Wyldon took a step closer to her, cupped her head in both hands, and kissed her gently on the forehead. “You are a true knight, Keladry of Mindelan,” he told her. “I am honored to know you.”

— Lady Knight, chapter 18

afigureofspeech  asked:

Hi there! As may be unsurprising to you, I originally found your writing from your Susan and Wendy posts, and oh gosh I just fell in love with how you take what was given and make it more. And then I read all those other fic you wrote about fabulous ladies and wowowow I am pretty in awe of you right now. I've spent a lot of time thinking about nogitsune!Allison now, that's for sure. Anyway, I saw that you love Will of the Empress and I feel like that's such an underrated book/series, plz discuss

(i am constantly surprised. i call my mother. i say MOM PEOPLE ARE STILL READING SUSAN. and she says yes hon it’s very nice). 

ok friends this is a great idea. lemme tell you about this book called will of the empress. it’s got cute lesbians and more than half the series’ main cast is not white. it’s got massive found family feels and one of the subplots is literally how dare you victim blame, you assholes. but i’m gonna rewind real quick and give you some context because it’s like book nine in a series and one of its greatnesses is the way it builds on what came before. 

this is a series about four kids who make an adorable found family with their two adopted moms lark and rosethorn (and their like ten other adoptive moms nico, crane, frostpine…). it comes in quartets—each kid gets their own book. in the first quartet circle of magic they’re all like ten and dweebs and traumatized.

sandry is one of the spunkiest things you’ll ever meet, a noble girl with footloose parents who dragged her all over the globe before they died in a plague halfway around the world. she got stuck in a locked, hidden room with no candle, waiting for impossible rescue—she’s afraid of the dark for the rest of her life. 

briar is a street kid, part of a thieving gang, who’s caught one to many times. instead of getting sentenced to the docks, the same man who was sandry’s impossible rescuer (nico, their mom #5.2) takes custody of him and takes him to winding circle. 

daja is a trader, one of a (well realized, described, complicated, and non-vilified) roving community of isolationist merchants. when all of her family but her is lost at sea, she is declared bad luck and forbidden from speaking to her people ever again. nico, too, finds her. 

tris is the daughter of prosperous, proper parents who have passed her from relation to relation because when tris gets mad, scared, or stressed, things happen. when they run out of relatives to drop her on, they shuffle her off to winding circle, where nico snatches her up, like the mover-about of tiny abandoned children that he is. 

and then the series itself happens and traumatizes these little ducklings all further: earthquakes, pirates, forest fires, plague. the kids live through them, learn and help and grow, and build a thriving little family with their like six moms (two of which are some of the aforementioned adorable lesbians— though they don’t become explicitly canon til later (*edit: and rosethorn is specifically bi and poly). lark/rosethorn my domestic lovelies). 

the second quartet follows them four years later, when the kids have all gone off to travel different parts of the world with each of their teachers, except for sandry, who’s stayed home to take care of her uncle, who like rules the kingdom or something. they all undergo various new and exciting traumas, from gangs to serial killer to arsonists, as well as each ending up saddled with a student of their own to teach. (did i mention they’re magic? magic done through the crafts you love, except for tris, whose magic is… natural disasters? tris has a hard life)

but yeah, now, in the second quartet, each of the four has their own adventures. they learn new things, bond harder to their teachers, and mentor (or in some cases adopt) tiny mage students of their own. they become responsible, aware, and jumpy as more and more of the worlds’ dangers get shoved in their faces. they learn they can live through it, like they always have, but they also learn that you have to keep your eyes open. 

and then they come home.

this, my friends, is will of the empress, one of my favorite books i’ve ever read. it’s been another four years. they are adults now, these four men and women who spent their childhood joined at the hip, living out of each other’s minds and magic in the face of awful odds. but they’ve all lived through worse odds now, apart.

daja is a successful businesswoman, proud and delighted, but she’s shattered when she comes back to winding circle to discover her old home will no longer welcome someone who’s neither a child nor in need of training. daja has been banned from too many homes to forgive that easy.

tris comes home more powerful than she left, trailing behind her four years of shunnings and frightened glances. she cannot remember how to trust even her siblings. 

sandry, who never left, feels abandoned, especially when her foster siblings come home wearing strong shields and stranger’s visages. she is powerful and important in her uncle’s court, a fair hand and calm political presence. she has missed her family and, in so many ways, none of them have come home. 

briar got caught up in a war in the four years he’s been away. he has nightmares, waking and sleeping. he’s grinning and wry, jokey and rakish. he does not want his siblings to see the sort of blood that lives behind his eyes these days. 

there’s an engaging and driving political plot, as sandry’s dangerous empress of a cousin summons her to play diplomat at her far-off court and her siblings go along to keep sandry safe, but this is most strikingly a book about growing up: they are not children, and the connections they had as kids were precious and important and so very good, but they can never be those people again.

briar jumps at odd noises and sandry has a country’s weight on her shoulders. daja is learning how to fall in love and tris is trying to find a way to live that doesn’t involve destroying every thing she touches. 

they are not as they were, but they are still family—a family of choice and they will choose each other again and again. but they have to build something new, out of their ashes and wars and new magics, new loves. they have to grow up, and they do. 


Instant recipe for a book you won’t be able to put down: sharpshooting, mythology, an irresistible heroine, and an electrifying love story. Introducing REBEL OF THE SANDS, a desert fantasy that will have you craving for more as soon as you turn the last page. Here to tell us about the mind behind the masterpiece is author Alwyn Hamilton!

Name: Alwyn Hamilton 

Novel: Rebel of the Sands 

Available: 8th of March 2016 

Who’s your favorite author, living or dead? So hard to chose! But I’m going to go top 3 from childhood who have the most important place in my heart: Tamora Pierce, for the Alanna Quartet. Patricia C. Wrede, for the Mairelong Duology and Dealing with Dragons. Sherwood Smith for the Crown & Court Duology. And it’s cliché, but, as part of the generation that grew up with Harry Potter, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention J.K Rowling. 

What’s your favorite thing about your book? The mythology. I was really excited when I built a world with a mythology propping it up that made sense and which helped build some of the major twists of the story around it, because I had always struggled with that. And I also love getting to weave in some of the ancient myths and story in with the central plot. 

If you could spend one year on a deserted island with one character from literature, who would you choose? Jack, from Blood Red Road. That’s a tough world, so he’s gotta have some skills that would help keep us both alive. And has enough good banter I feel like it could last us a year. Plus (SORT OF SPOILERS BUT NOT REALLY AHEAD) but he’s one of the only male characters who I swoon over but would not feel bad about stealing from the series heroine. 

Where do you write? Cafes! My 2 favourites are close to my house, but far enough away that getting there is a little bit of a walk so I can’t just give up and pop home if I’m struggling to get words on the page. The best one for drafting is a café Nero, a chain coffee shop, with an upper floor and a terrible internet connection. I have been known to sit there for 6 hours straight on a single coffee and no distractions. 

Who is your favorite hero or heroine of history? I have a soft spot for Charlotte Corday, the 24 year old woman who murdered Marat in the bath and went to the guillotine for it. The most famous painting of the event is by Jacques-Louis David and shows Marat looking like a martyred saint. Charlotte Corday is removed to make her “The Sinister Absent presence” as one essay called her. I wrote my dissertation on depictions of Charlotte Corday as they evolved through history, and she went from being a murderess to a martyr herself, as politics moved on in France. Charlotte Corday is fascinating to me because she is a young woman from the countryside with an agency that no one fully understands. No one knows very much about her, even what she looked like (she gets blonder and blonder in paintings as she starts to become saintly) and while we know she declared that she did what she did for France and what her politics were, no one has a fully grip on what made this one particular girl, who was no one in particular as far as politics went, travel to Paris with a mind to murder, and ready to die for what she believed in. I don’t know if she’s a heroine in everyone’s eyes but I will never not love a young girl with a weapon fighting for her country. 

Do you tweet? What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever tweeted? I do! A lot! (@AlwynFJH) The thing I’ve found the funniest recently was not in actuality that funny, but I was delirious because I’d woken up at 5 a.m to go on a school visit. Halfway to Birmingham on Train 1 of the day my UK Publicist, Hannah, and I noticed we were dressed the same and that we looked like creepy Victorian ghost twins a la Diana Arbus/The Shining (photo attached). No one thought this was as funny as we did at 7 a.m on a train. But twitter did. Cut to that evening, 2 school visits later, and between trains 4 and 5 of the day and the exhaustion and delirium fully took hold and we dissolved into madness in Preston Station, and started simultaneously tweeting creepy twin stuff at anyone unlucky enough to cross our twitter path (screencap attached of when my agent, Molly was the unlucky recipient). It culminated with us tweeting a picture of the other one appearing dead on the last train of the day. We thought we were HI-LARIOUS at the time.

What is your favorite season? Summer. Hands down. I love just opening all the windows in my apartment when summer hits and clearing the winter out. I love that London seems to come back to life in the sun and life just spills out into the streets and parks and everything and everyone seems more open and welcoming. I love going to restaurants and sitting outdoors. I love going to open air cinemas in London Parks. I love that I am not constantly having to undress and redress myself with a million coats as I travel around the city. Summer in the city is my favourite thing. 

If you could teleport anywhere in the known universe right now, where would you go? I was going to say my parents’ house for a visit, but now that we’ve gotten to talking about sun, I would kill for some of that. I’ve just googled “Where it is Hot in February” and Thailand comes top of the list. And I’ve actually been there in February before, and it’s true, it’s blissful. So I’d teleport myself to Koh Samui. 

Do you have any writing rituals? I don’t know if it’s a ritual but when I’m drafting I put the same song on repeat and listen to it on my headphones for hours and hours on end, on loop. It helps erase the outside world. I also tend to get an almond croissant for my breakfast. Which was a fine ritual when I was writing only on weekends. But now I write full time is not so sustainable… 

What is your idea of earthly happiness? A guilt free reading day, accompanied by a latte and a pastry, in an apartment of my own, with a dog, on a day my hair looks salon wash and blow dried good (for no real reason) and then having pasta for dinner with a group of people I love (family or friends). Alternatively (she says glancing down at the next question): Being part of Taylor Swift’s Squad. 

What is the best concert you’ve ever been to? Taylor Swift, 1989 Tour Concert in Hyde Park in Summer 2015. Again, I love anything I can attend in an outdoor space, and the stage they build there is amazing. It’s a huge fake tree (picture attached). And also I am not so low key obsessed with miss Swift. 

What are you currently working on? Edits on “Rebel of the Sands 2: This Time it’s Palatial” (Not the Real Title, obviously!) It’s due out in 2017, followed by the third book, last in the trilogy in 2018.


Thanks, Alwyn! We can’t wait to hear more about the sequel!

Find Alwyn on Twitter!

Start reading REBEL OF THE SANDS here!

Day 1: My first introduction to Tamora Pierce was back in the early ‘90s.  I was thrilled to find books about GIRLS who DID THINGS, just like the boys.  Better than the boys, sometimes.  I checked SOTL out from the library so often that the librarians told me I should just buy them.  But…they were out of print. 

Tortall helped seal my love of fantasy books, and has a special place in my heart.

books-cupcakes Book Photo Challenge

January 4 “First Book I Ever Loved”

I new there could be only one choice for this category. These are the books that made my childhood. I owe Tamora Pierce for just, well, everything that I am!

I can’t even imagine who I would be without Alanna. I own all the Tortall books, and I adore them all, but it was Alanna I found first. These books made me believe that there was nothing I could not do or be - if a scrawny little girl could become a Kingdom’s greatest knight then I could be anything. There were no limits - and who I would be did not have to be hindered by my gender, my appearance, or my strength.

Can we please talk about Daja Kisubo and Tamora Pierce for a second? I know it took a while to get some canon queer rep in her books, but considering when she started writing and the fact that she was one of the Big Three authors of my childhood (alongside Diane Duane and Dianna Wynne Jones) I’m inclined to give her a lot of slack on that.

Because I was one of the queer kids who never headcanoned or got the insinuation that passed for representation back then. The idea of book characters- of heroes- being gay, of feeling what I wouldn’t admit to feeling was so far out of my experience that it had to be explicitly be pointed out to me. Today I’ll write you an essay about The Winter Soldier as an allegory for escaping a homophobic upbringing but back then I wouldn’t dare read outside the lines of what was “allowed”.

So in 6th grade when I read The Will of The Empress I was floored. Daja was in love with a girl. And her family was okay with it. This girl who’d done amazing things, who I’d looked up to- she felt what I felt. I reread those chapters again and again, curled up in a ball to hide the pages in case someone read over my shoulder, my face turning bright red as Daja described how beautiful or graceful or kind Rizu was. I still wouldn’t admit why those parts were important to me- they just fascinated me years before I ever felt real attraction like that.

Today that book is still one of my favourite Tammy Pierce books. Aside from being one of her longest Emelan books, and a fantastic story in its own right, it also revealed that Lark and Rosethorn were together, and gave me not one but three amazing queer women I still look up to as an adult. The Discipline Cottage family gave me my first hint that I didn’t have to have a family in the traditional way, but I could still have a family that I loved. Those books were so formative in so many ways, and I want to thank Tamora Pierce so much for them, from the bottom of my heart.

Gods all Bless, Tammy.

On Tamora Pierce and how she influenced me

I first stumbled upon Tamora Pierce in the bookstore that was nestled in downtown Baltimore– a Waldenbooks if I remember correctly. I don’t remember how old I was, but I was obsessed with horses then. And on the cover of this book was a young girl, reins to a horse in her hand. The title appealed to the dreamer in me. Wild Magic.

I bought the book with money my parents had given me. I read the first page and could not– would not– put it down. Daine, a 13 year-old girl, chances upon the woman in charge of the Queen’s Riders. This woman, Onua, hires Daine to be her assistant, and from there Daine becomes a central figure in a fight to rid her land (Tortall) of immortal creatures who slaughter humans without cause.

Wild Magic was the first in a quartet known as The Immortals. Tamora Pierce wrote several series: The Song of the LionessThe Circle of MagicProtector of the SmallThe Circle Opens, Beka CooperThe Trickster Series, among other books. These series are heavily inundated with women who have all manner of personalities. Some of these women break tradition (Alana in Song of the Lioness for example). Some of these women are happily feminine (Sandry in The Magic Circle). But all of these women are central to the plot. Now, these series are not perfect– I always had the impression that most of the characters in these books were white. Everyone, to my memory, is heterosexual and identifies with the gender they were born into.

But I read a lot of them probably from age 8 to 19 years old– maybe even later. I identified with pretty much all the characters in one way or another. And what these women do is not entirely entwined with whether they find love or not. Many of them do eventually settle into committed relationships. If they do end up in relationships, they just are. It isn’t a central plot point. Huge character development rarely depends on love interests. Most of the quartets end with the male love interest professing their love for the lady, but the lady’s answer is only found in subsequent series. Daine gets a marriage proposal, but the book ends at the offer. It wasn’t until I read another series that I found out her answer.

I’m not being very obvious with my point, so I’ll just state it. Tamora Pierce influenced me for the better. She influenced the stories I want to tell. She influenced me to be what I wanted. She’s one of the few YA authors out there that isn’t shoving romantic love down the reader’s throats. Yes, love exists and she deals with it realistically. Pierce deals with desire and becoming entangled in significant others. But she also deals in fantastic battle scenes, in staying true to oneself, in tales where women are capable– capable to the point where saying “just as capable as the men” is redundant. 

Tamora Pierce holds a special place in my heart.