Romantic Fantasies

My appreciation for romance novels didn’t start until my early 30s. Growing up my heart did, and still does, belong to fantasy.

Image from Pixaby

However when dredging my mind for a Valentine’s Day post I can see that, even when (or perhaps because) they weren’t the main focus of the plot, romantic relationships in fantasy novels have left their mark on me.

Eowyn/Faramir (The Lord of the Rings)

As a geeky, gangly girl who didn’t understand why being able to quote Monty Python wasn’t a desirable quality in a school disco date, I found it reassuring that while Aragorn rejected Eowyn, there was a man out there for her.

A better man who would appreciate the amazingness of her. Like Eowyn I just had to be patient and find my Faramir. Looking back I do have concerns about the wild shield maiden of Rohan being caged up in Gondor, but when you’re thirteen it’s all about the happy ending.

Carrot/Angua (The Discworld Novels)

It bothers Angua that she’s a werewolf, and she spends the early books constantly poised for flight.

That Angua is a werewolf bothers Carrot not at all. You could make an argument for the fact that Carrot is too nice to really appreciate the social implications of having a girlfriend that can rip throats out. However, closer and prolonged reading shows that Carrot is not really as nice as you think he is.

In the later books the werewolf jokes in the Watch House locker room do seem to bothe Carrot, but only on Angua’s behalf and she is more than capable of dealing with them herself.

The last hint we have of their relationship is that they are living together. It’s a throw away line in someone else’s story (and I was in my early thirties then) but my fifteen-year-old self was so pleased that they had made it to that stage. It validated my belief that they could work their differences out.

Despite her dark and awkward secrets Angua found love with a man who accepted who she was.  A man who has some awkward secrets of his own.  Remember, you may think you’re strange, but no stranger than some the boys out there.


I do feel that Shakespeare sold me out with the drugging and manipulating Oberon does, but the first scene between them always gets my heart beating.

Oberon:Am not I thy lord?

Titania: Then I must be thy lady

Image from Pixaby

No arguing with that.

I think this was the first thing I really noticed that showed it was ok to be powerful in a relationship and to fight your corner, and that it was ok to say no to sex and be incensed at your partner while still loving them.

Titania was my heroine through my A-Levels (I had yet to meet Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing and think it was a good idea to eat men’s hearts in marketplaces). One day I’m going to write a story where the two of them reach a compromise without narcotics, or where Titania finds out about the narcotics and takes Oberon to task for it.

By the time I was seventeen I wanted more from my happy endings, or maybe I was ready to look beyond them and see how rich and complicated romance could be.

What are you favorite fictional romances – from any genre?


A Castle of one’s own – The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole

The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole. Date published: 1764

In essence: The true heir of Otranto must be found before the castle kills them all.

The reason I love Gothic Horror so much is the space it creates.  Crimson Peak came in for some bashing when it was first released but I will watch it over and over again just for the house.* The house beats all with its cobwebbed corners and shadowed staircases, its loft ceilings and lancet windows.

Who would live in a house like this?

Only a family in disintegration. A family with secrets and passions that simply can’t fit into the real world.  Otranto’s patriarch, Manfred, thinks it’s a good idea to divorce his wife and marry his dead son’s fiancée.  The current Mrs Otranto does not object as much as you would expect.  The fiancée does object and flees to a monastery while Miss Otranto finds it all very disturbing, but she’s a good girl who obeys her father and is far more concerned with the random, yet handsome stranger outside her bedroom window.

The castle itself has very strong opinions on the fact that Manfred should not be in charge at all. It is the grand sire of Crimson Peak’s house, and yet it behaves like a teenager throwing fits of giant-sized armour and terrorising its inhabitants with prophetic ghosts.

“I want the true heir of Otranto back!” Door slams and plate metal rattles. “Now!”

The family remain puzzled, but carry on with their own agendas. The servants seem more inclined to pay attention, and like Hamlet’s Gravedigger offer some light relief.


I found in The Monk that the funny moments sort of made the scary stuff less scary.  To find it happening again in The Castle of Otranto was not as odd.

It made more sense that in The Castle of Otranto because the gothic space was more clearly defined.  The Monk roves about over a whole city while in the claustrophobic confines of the Gothic Castle there is enhanced pressure on a group of people who cannot escape each other. In that setting the comedy did enhance the horror.

Here is a good article that explains it better than me.

More than just scenery

Of all the characters, the castle was my favourite. It wasn’t just window dressing, but had an agency of its own that drove the plot almost as much as Manfred’s desire for unconventional marriage arrangements.  Plus the castle was a lot easier to sympathise with.

This is also a good read if you’re a writer who wants to learn how to use setting to enhance atmosphere.  It’s a brisk read too.

So, I still really love a haunted building, but I think now I am more aware to the responsibility of owning one. Especially if it doesn’t want me to.

This post is part of the Reader’s Imbibing Peril blog hop. There is still time to get your socks scared off. Click here to find out more. The amazing artwork is by Abigail LarsonRIP XI

If you’d like to learn more about Gothic Houses and what they mean, I really recommend this podcast.

*Yes, the house. Not Tom Hiddleston removing his trousers.

Frightfully Funny? -The Monk, by Matthew Lewis



 In essence: Ambrosio is very holy monk until he gives into lust, greed and pride. He descends into vice and pretty much screws life up for everyone else. Except Matilda, whose evil plan it may have been all along.

Have you ever finished a book and not known quite what you think of it, or yourself?

I still don’t know what I think of The Monk.

A shopping list of Gothic Horrors.

There was not just rape, but incestuous rape.  Not just one virgin locked in a crypt, but two.  And mere demons weren’t sufficient so Satan himself appeared. Not just once, dear readers, but a multitude of times.

The book was a one stop shop for evil nuns, bloated corpses, skeletons (in crypts and family closets), ineffectual heroes, devils, mob violence, witches and swooning maidens.

Bizarrely, what I really liked were the moments of comedy.  There were, unexpectedly, several.

The old woman convincing herself that the two gallant knights are flirting with her and not her sixteen-year-old charge was expertly done.  Lewis had a great eye for picking out the ridiculousness in people and situations. This is brilliantly demonstrated in his opening scene.

Although enjoyable, those farcical moments also made the excessive horror feel burlesque in some places.  It may have been the eighteenth century language, but it often felt like the characters were deliberately enjoying their own wickedness too much to be taken completely seriously. Or maybe Lewis was.

I kind of enjoyed it too. Mostly.

When ‘n0’ means ‘yes’ and ‘leave me alone’ means ‘drug me and lock me in a crypt.’


I was conflicted about Ambrosio, the monk of the title.  He’s an abandoned orphan who has known love or society except that found in the monastery. This was all promising start for my tender heart, although Ambrosio’s history makes him easy pickings for the devilish Matilda.

‘Oh look, a woman’s breast. Ok, I’ll sleep with you. Once wont hurt, right?’  

It’s not quite that simple, but once Ambrosio fell he fell fast and hard (*coughs*) and kept declining at a steady pace.

There were moments when Lewis captured Ambrosio’s inner moral wrangling beautifully.  There were other moments when, partly due to cultural differences but mostly because he was a toad, I wanted to beat Ambrosio to death with his own crucifix.

He repulsed me, and what made him truly horrific was his willingness to take advantage of his position of power. Kind of like a religious Littlefinger, but with less charisma.

I hated Ambrosio. Yet, as he launched his lecherous pursuit of Antonia, I turned another page.  And another.

*thunder rolls*

Just as I need to see the credits at the end of a particularly disturbing horror movie, I had to see if this character got his come-uppance.  (No spoilers here. Don’t look at the woodcut.)

Ambrosio’s descent from holier-than-thou to criminal sex fiend and murderer made me think about the gulf that sometimes emerges between who we hope everybody thinks we are, and the person we are capable of becoming given the right pressures. Ambrosio’s one true fear was not that God would find out what he’d done, but that society would.

I can almost sympathise with that. I want to be the person who can read this classic text with appreciation for its context and the moral issues it displays.  It’d also be cool if I could make some witty observations and you would all applaud and leave lots of comments.

Alas, I actually gobbled it up like Catherine Morland, squealing with horrified delight every time Ambrosio crept an inch closer to satisfying his demonic desires.

*lightning strikes*

I would highly recommend this book. I think.If you do choose to read it, I advise wrapping it in a brown paper bag between sittings.

This is a Readers Imbibing Peril post, and there’s still time to get in on the spookiness (until October 31st). It covers books, films and games in the horror (and associated) genres.  The very cool and kooky picture is by Abigail Larson.



Dracula Review (Readers Imbibing Peril)

RIP XI Review SiteIn preparation for Hallowe’en I’m tanking myself with Gothic Horror as part of R.I.P.  Head over to Stainless Steel Droppings to join in and get your spine tingled.

The first part of the novel has always been my favorite.  It’s a study in slow burning terror.  The following scenes in Whitby do not compare to Dracula’s Castle and the sinister behavior of its master.

Re-reading I also found a new respect fro Johnathon Harker.  He was firmly stuck in my head as an impotent Keanu Reeves, losing his vivacious wife to a charismatic blood sucker.  Not so. The man scales a wall (twice!) and  keeps up his hope and spirits throughout the whole book, despite being submitted to the worse kinds of mental torture.

First Date Etiquette.

In fact if you do ship Mina and Dracula (#Mracula? #Dracuina?) reading this book will put you off. His attack  of her is erotic, but the mere fact that it is erotic makes it all the more flesh-crawling. I’ve also been reading The Monk and a similar scene occurs when Ambrosio breaks into the heroine’s room while she is asleep, only without the metaphorical blood sucking  to hide his intentions behind.

That complicated juxtaposition of desire and disgust is irrefutable evidence that sneaking into a woman’s bedroom when she is unconscious is not sexy. Take note, Mr Cullen. It’s been done. It was creepy and wrong then; it is creepy and wrong now.


Dracula himself, is sadly off page for most of the later part of the book.  The way he is described is the same mix of attraction and repulsion used above.  Even off page, his presence looms large over the action. And the way Van Helsing talks about him gave me a new found respect for what the Count is trying to accomplish and how much effort has gone towards him leaving his own superstitious Romania in order to make a better/safer  life for himself in London.

Of course, that isn’t quite how Van Helsing tells it. I’m reading between the lines, but Dracula is a pioneer of vampire-kind, seeking to over come his (super)natural restrictions and improve both himself and his quality of life.

Van Helsing was the only character I found myself frustrated by.  Lucy is turning into a vampire! Just tell them already! My modern sensibilities did not appreciate the good hearted reasons behind the old boy’s coyness.  It made that part of the book drag a tiny bit, but not so much to ever make me want to stop.

The Buffy of the 1890s?

The Scooby Gang of Victorian Gentleman rallying to take on the Count was a great race against time. Especially when they got over their noble sentiments and actually let Mina (who had previously pulled out her typewriter and organised their flaky, love sick arses into some course of action) be involved in the proceedings.

I have plans for my own fanfiction focusing on the Lucy Westenra Memorial Foundation for the Eradication of the Undead.  Young Quincey Harker spends his summer holidays travelling Europe with his parents hunting vampires. Lord Goldaming stumps up the money and Dr Seward provides medical expertise on locating vital organs.

Stoker’s characters were all real and distinct. They made a strong impression on me, as did their friendship forged under fire.

Modern sensibilities firmly locked in a trunk under my bed; I also really wanted Harker and Mina to make their marriage work (#Hina? #Marker?) There is real strength in their love and devotion to each other.  No, please, don’t vomit.  You don’t go to the trouble of memorizing a train time table for a man if you don’t love him.

In conclusion, if you have any interest in vampires at all, you need to read this book. It has so much to offer in terms of both horror writing, character and the origins (sorry Polydori) of a genre. You’d be mad to leave it languishing in it’s crypt a moment longer.


Halloween is Coming (Readers Imbibing Peril)


If, like me, you have Anne Radcliffe’s back catalogue gathering dust on your reading list it’s time to take action.

Join the R.I.P linky list and read one (or two, or three, or four) books from the perilous genres.  Watch a film, or play a game and get in the mood for Jack-o-Lantern season.

In an ideal world I’d read;

  1. 1. Dracula – because I need to make peace with Mina Harker
  2. 2. The Castle of Otranto – because I have yet to make it past the giant helmet
  3. 3.The Monk and (yes, one Anne Radcliffe) the Mysteries of Uldolpho – because I want to know what the all the fuss in Northanger Abbey was all about.

Ambitious of me, but tis the season to rediscover my inner Gothic Landscape.  I’ll put some Jill Tracy on to motivate me.

The awesome artwork was provided by Abigail Larson.






A Recipe for the Perfect Bad Guy?

Are there a lot of hunchbacked monarch’s about lately, or is it me?

No sooner had the Hollow Crown finished than the cinema over the road from my office started advertising a live airing of Ralph Fiennes as Richard III.

I’m a convert. Spending the entire play in Richard’s head was as much fun as the first time I saw Tyrion Lannister’s beautifully ironic ‘you know how I love my family.’

It made me think about their other similarities.

  • Hated by at least one of their parents
  • A physical appearance that has a huge impact on how they are perceived
  • By large the most witty and charismatic character on the page
  • Completely unashamed of their own world outlook (with the occasional wobble)
  • They don’t care what people think of them. At least they don’t cry about it but do occasionally murder family members.

Typing this also makes me think of the Phantom of the Opera, and for the Abercrombie fans among you, Inquisitor Glotka, the dashing swordsman turned crippled torture who, despite the fact we regularly see him gleefully chop thumbs off, has an inner dialogue (much like Richard’s) which tight rope walks the edge of pantomime and makes you cry with laughter.

And they show me the way I would like to be fearless. I’m quiet, obedient and have a horrible habit of always apologising for myself. Even when I’ve done nothing wrong. I’d like to blame my parents (sorry Dad, if you’re still reading), but I think there are wider social and cultural pressures to blame.

There is danger in breaking the norm, my brain tells me on a daily basis. It’s dangerous to be too noticeable, too outside the box, too bad.

That is the spice in the recipe though – these characters show you things that you would like to do, even if it is as basic as pushing the fear away and just saying, ‘Fuck it, let’s see what happens if I try to be king today.’

These characters still have something to lose, they still have something that makes them human and they manage to invoke empathy even as I disagree with what they are doing. Plus they make me laugh, and seriously, if you make me laugh I will forgive you most things.  They show me a freedom of self-expression and ambition that I am only just brave enough to dream of.

And on a sliding scale (Tyrion being a protagonist in his own right, and Richard being a moustache-twirling bundle of wickedness) are they really bad guy’s at all?

And where are all the women in this line up?


I’ve already mentioned Glotka, and in honour of the 1oth anniversary of Joe Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself, in my next post I’m going to write about Ardee West.


Cynic, boarding alcoholic, social pariah and seducer of red-coated idiots. She’s a laugh a minute. Stop by and I’ll introduce you.


To do: Fall in Love; Live in Hope; Change the World

One of my close friends once tried to explain her Twilight obsession by saying, “It reminds me of how I felt when I fell in love for the first time.”

I didn’t get it. My memories of teenage love were all hopeless crushes on boys that didn’t want me or feeling repulsed, confused and terrified of those that did.

Then, shortly after the Twilight fervour began, I read Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone, and I got it.  Or at least, this is the love my thirty-something-self wishes my teenage-self experienced. Although without the ethnic cleansing and civil war. Maybe.


In essence – Karou has been bought up not knowing who she is, or why her adoptive father is a monster who runs a lucrative trade in teeth.  Akiva is an angel on a mission of vengeance and means to put an end to a centuries old war between the angels and Karou’s adoptive family.  

(Notice the sticker. I bought it on a whim because I was in there buying the Hunger Games anyway!)

Not the best start for a teenage romance, but what I enjoyed most was that both Karou and Akiva retained a sense of self and their own truths without turning into a Romeo/Juliet style splurge.  And in the end they share a goal beyond their feelings for each other. Even when they are at the most distressing of cross purposes they still have something that is more important than angst to work towards.

And Lani Taylor is an evil, evil woman.  She knows just how to make you love her characters and then do the absolute worst thing to them.  I’m not talking death because (for the most part) she’s far more astute and wicked than that.  She makes them suffer in a way that is heart breaking, but will ultimately bring out the best (or worst, depending on what’s needed) in them and make their rewards (punishments) so much the sweeter.

And there is sweetness in watching Karou and Akiva find each other. I’m not being sappy, honest, because this is not just a book about love, but also about hope. You need both to build a better world.  You need both to build a better you – and that’s where better worlds start.


In fact, my teenage self may not have appreciated it. She would have married the odious White Wolf because she’d have been too immature/afraid of upsetting him/the social censure. My teenage-self needed help.  This is the sort of love to start building right now.


Fall in love, hope for the best, go and change the world. Seriously? What are you waiting for?

 Laini Taylor will also have a new series coming out autumn this year…