An Odyssey in Animation

So, this past weekend, I saw Wildwood, the stop-motion animation film directed by Travis Knight for LAIKA Studios.

I won’t say much about the plot. Even the trailer, which you can see here, keeps you guessing about the story. But what I can say, and this of course is my opinion, is that it is a masterpiece. I don’t use that word lightly.

If this isn’t the best animated feature Oscar winner in 2027, I will probably lose all faith in the system.

But this post isn’t so much about the plot as it is about the odyssey of making the film. It was optioned back in 2011 when the book it adapted, Wildwood by Colin Meloy (yes that Colin Meloy of the Decemberists), was still a manuscript the director was allowed to read.

If you know anything about stop-motion animation, you know that everything takes a long time to film, because different pieces have to be moved and filmed shot by shot to show the action.

One scene in the film took five years to do. You read that right. Talk about patience. (For more information on the production of Wildwood the movie, you can read this Smithsonian article and this article in Variety.)

In a day where the constant demand is right now, that type of patient artistry might seem foreign. But this is the type of film that can change the game and inspire a new generation of animators, as one reviewer stated.

As I watched the film, after a while, I forgot I was watching a stop-motion film. It was that immersive and fluid.

   

Had movie snacks ready!

I’m not a stop-motion animator. But I know what it is like to work on a project for years for the love of the craft. I realize that’s not everyone’s call. And it’s not always mine. I’ve had to produce some books in less than a month at times. But there are some that have taken a lot longer to produce.

So, my hat is off to LAIKA and the artists whose breathtaking work can be seen in this beautiful film.

Have you seen Wildwood? What other stop-motion films have you seen?

Movie poster found online. Wildwood book cover found at Goodreads. Other photos by L. Marie.

Who Would Have Thought? Surprising Sellers

This year, I read a book about an older man who wants to give away pencil-drawn portraits, a woman who gets to know a giant Pacific octopus,

   

a ballad of Galahad—over 300-hundred pages of epic narrative poetry (and that’s book 1!), and the diary entries of a woman in Victorian England (book 1 of maybe 25 books?). (Relax. None of those are spoilers. You can glean that much information just reading the back or jacket cover.)

   

If you had asked me last year if would I read any of these, I would probably have said no to maybe three of them. I don’t read much adult fiction, except for classic books I already own.

Friends begged me to read three of the above. I chose the fourth (Galahad) because I subscribe to the author’s YouTube channel. (I’m in the middle of Galahad, by the way.)

If you had asked me which of these books would land on a bestseller list, I wouldn’t have imagined any of them would. I’m not throwing shade at any of them. They’re all great and deserve to be widely read. But please reread the opening description of their premises. Do any of them sound like the usual bestseller? Yet all of them are wildly popular, mostly because of word of mouth.

Two of them were indie published and later snatched up by a traditional publisher because of their extraordinary success. Please note that the publisher didn’t make them successful. They already were successful.

 

Two of them are debut novels.

 

I love that they were found and loved by readers.

These days, I hear a lot of rhetoric against “quiet” stories and normally niche epics—that readers don’t want them. I’m glad to see these books prove that statement wrong.

Have you read any of these books? What others have you read that surprised and delighted you enough to recommend them to others?

What, if anything, encourages you about the success of these books? Why?

Book photos by L. Marie.

Is Shock Value Working?

In one of the comments for my “Satisfying Conclusions” post, Charles Yallowitz asked, “Were the deaths plot essential or shock value?” You’ll have to read the post (if you haven’t already done so) for more context.

His question stuck with me, especially when I heard about another situation that I will have to be vague about out of fear of giving a spoiler. (I promise you, I’m not trying to make a habit out of providing vague information.)

But that situation caused enough of a hullabaloo online for me to shake my head and ask the question posed in the title.

If you watched Star Trek: The Next Generation, you know about one of the most famous cliffhangers in TV history: Captain Jean-Luc Picard having been assimilated into the Borg (the two-parter, “The Best of Both Worlds”). See this Time article if you want more information. And yes, that is a spoiler. But the episode aired in 1990, and has been talked about since it aired, so . . .

I brought that up because this was shocking, like many good cliffhangers are. But because the next episode provided a strong conclusion, these episodes are considered some of the best television episodes of all time.

However, many times in recent years, we’ve read books or seen movies and shows where certain shocking things, particularly deaths, have occurred. As a result, some viewers lost faith in these books or productions.

Now, some people will complain even if a death or some other occurrence is justifiable and was well foreshadowed.

But in some cases, a death occurred in a show or movie, but something offscreen happened—either the writer/director/showrunner moved on or there was no guarantee that another season of a show or a movie sequel would be greenlit.

Also, sometimes the intent of the shock value event was to subvert expectations and bring something new to the table. Sometimes that works, and other times . . . it doesn’t.

Sadly, some shows have been canceled after a cliffhanger. In those instances, viewers were left reeling and feeling betrayed (as some have voiced on social media). I think we’ve all experienced the frustration of investing time in something only to be disappointed.

What about you? How would you answer the question in the title? If you give examples, please avoid, if possible, shows or movies currently in production because of spoilers, unless said movies or shows are adaptations of books that have existed for ages (like The Odyssey, a story that has existed for thousands of years).

Captain Jean-Luc Picard as Locutus found online. The Odyssey, Robert Fagles translation found at Goodreads.

Satisfying Conclusions

Someone (I wish I could remember who) said that ending a story well is how great authors earn fans. Or words to that effect. The point is, we like a good ending.

By “good,” I don’t necessarily mean a happy ending. By its very definition, tragedies don’t end happily. Like Macbeth. But a sad ending can feel inevitable and right.

I can’t help thinking about a book I read in recent weeks that I will not name. The book’s synopsis mentioned a great evil stirring and a chosen one who would play a significant role in the defeat of the evil forces. Sounds good right? (And no, I’m not thinking of The Lord of the Rings or the Star Wars saga.)

But I started to panic when I noticed that while the evil kept stirring, the pages were starting to run out. Oh, those on the side of good knew what was happening. But the tide had yet to turn.

Though the evil was vanquished at the end, the wrap-up seemed to happen at a far quicker pace than the onslaught. Granted, the rising action in a story usually is longer. However, the climax of this story happened much later in the book. That’s when I started to wonder if the ending would be as satisfying as I had hoped.

If you’re familiar with the Freytag Pyramid, you’ll recognize the image below. (Click here for more information on that.) These are the stages of many stories. Please note: This is not the “formula” for all stories. Yours might be different.

Many stories that follow this story structure do not feature a plot where the rising action (from the inciting incident to the climax) and the falling action (from the climax to the end of the story) are almost as evenly split as the above image shows. Some are more like this.

The story I read was about 90% rising action. So it was more like this.

The resolution was probably about ten pages. Because the plot involved a number of deaths and other horrors, I wanted more closure emotionally.

Of course, authors have a right to write their stories the way they envision them. Still, I can’t help appreciating the stories with plenty of room reserved for their endings. (Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice comes to mind.)

I couldn’t find my copy of the book, so this will have to do.

What book or books have you read recently where the ending knocked your socks off? Please share below. (Non-spoilery of course.)

Images drawn by L. Marie. Some are based on the Freytag Pyramid.

“These Are a Few of My Favorite (Fall) Things”

Yes, it’s fall. A proper fall here in the Midwest with cooler temps and drizzly days.

This is not the case in other parts of the country though. We might envy you in the subzero days of winter.

But yes, fall. Not Christmastime. (Looking at you, stores, with your jumping-over-the-seasons displays.)

So, today, in celebration of fall, I took a few snaps of some of my favorite fall things.

 

Oh, leaves. You’re trying to get into the season. Bless you.

And I think of fall food like this:

     

Candy, you showed up in the store in July. I was not happy with you then. You’re okay here.

Lovely fall floral arrangements like these make me feel warm in the midst of cooler weather:

What are your favorite fall things?

Photos by L. Marie.

Resilience 4, In Which the Arctic Tern Plays a Part

I really need to get into the habit of searching for posts before titling new posts.

Having finally taken the time to search before I started writing this one, I discovered three other posts with the same one-word title. No subtitles like “Part 2” or even “The Sequel.” Just the same word.

Sigh. Anyway, that is how this post came to have the title that it does.

So, why the Arctic tern? Well, almost two months ago, I was given an editing/rewriting/compilation book project that I need to turn (I almost typed tern) in to the publisher very soon. The Arctic tern, a bird I knew nothing about, came up in the manuscript. So, I had to research.

Back in 2016, researchers recorded the migration of an Arctic tern and discovered that one bird traveled 59,650 miles in one year. Don’t believe me? Look at this article from Audubon’s website.

A bird. Almost 60,000 miles. One year. A tremendous amount of effort.

That got me to thinking: Have I written that number of words this year? The answer, sadly, is no. In fact, I have no idea how many words I’ve written. Writing a novel makes it easier to keep track of words. But when you work on multiple shorter projects (articles, picture books, short stories), it gets harder. And though I’ve edited and contributed articles to books that are about the length of the Arctic tern’s migration, I have not participated much in the writing marathon of novel writing this year.

Oh, I’ve dabbled at adding chapters to existing WIPs. But I have not started and completed a novel this year.

Lest you jump on me and say that a novel doesn’t have to be completed in a year, I will state right now that I agree. But I have not written in one year what NaNoWriMo used to challenge people to write in one month.

This is not a guilt trip for anyone else who hasn’t. I’m talking about myself here. And yes, I realize that some authors work primarily in short-form projects, which is great!

But I have to admit that sometimes, I allow myself to get sidetracked by disappointment, messages of doom from people on social media and from other discouraged people. When that happens, my “word migration” diminishes.

Watching Arctic terns on this video inspired me to go for longer distances in my words.

On to the winner of You and I Are Stars and Night written by Kate Hosford and illustrated by Richard Jones.

    

S. K. Van Zandt, things are about to take a “tern” for the good for you, because you are the winner! Please comment below to confirm.

Thank you to all who commented.

For a great post on perseverance, read S. K. Van Zandt’s blog post here.

Photos taken from online.

Check This Out: You and I Are Stars and Night

Hello! It’s been a minute since I’ve had an interview on the blog. And today, I’m so happy to be talking with my good friend, the fabulous Kate Hosford about her latest lyrical picture book, You and I Are Stars and Night, illustrated by Richard Jones. It was published in February 2026 by Simon & Schuster. Kate is represented by Victoria Wells Arms at HG Literary.

El Space: What inspired this cozy bedtime book? I read it at bedtime. So lovely.
Kate: I’m so happy that you read the book at bedtime! I have always loved writing about the bonds of love between children and their parents or caretakers and have done so several times before. For this book, I knew that I wanted it to be both a bedtime adventure and an ode to love. I also knew that I would write in rhyme and tell the story in the mother/caretaker’s voice. Aside from that, I had just a single image of a mother and child in a village who wake up in the middle of the night when they hear the wind call to them and run down to the seashore. Eventually, I came up with this stanza:

The wind is calling. Hear it sweep
through our village fast asleep.
Will you sail away with me?
You and I are salt and sea.

Soon I knew I would end every stanza with a metaphor that reinforces the bond between grown-up and child: You and I are salt and sea, light and moon, egg and nest, etc.

El Space: I can’t help thinking of your book before this—You’ll Always Be My Chickadee, illustrated by Sarah Gonzales. It was a bedtime book too. But I’m thinking of the contrast—the daytime yellows and oranges. It had some nighttime pages too. But You and I Are Stars and Night features the nighttime setting more prominently. Was the contrast deliberate because this is with a different publisher? Why or why not?
Kate: That’s a great question! I knew that because I was writing about the steadfast love between mother/caretaker and child in both books, I would have to find a way to differentiate the books. In my mind, the main difference was that You’ll Always Be My Chickadee was connected to all the places around my Vermont home, and based in reality, while You and I Are Stars and Night was a magical adventure.

But you are right; Chickadee is mostly about the sun-soaked day leading up to bedtime, while Stars and Night starts and ends at bedtime and has a cooler palette overall. I think the difference in palettes basically mirrored the preponderance of day or night in each book, but it’s nice that the sensibility between the books ended up being so different. Here are the opening spreads of both books below:

El Space: You have so many lovely metaphors. Richard Jones’s illustrations are very soft and dreamlike—a lovely accompaniment to them. What was your process for writing You and I Are Stars and Night? You have the best book titles!
Kate: Thank you! My ideas often start with titles, although in this case, I looked back at one of my early drafts and saw that my original title was “You Be the Boat, I’ll Be the Moon”—the same idea in a slightly different form. Once I realized that I would use the pared-down you and I construction for all of my metaphors, both the title and last line of the book became You and I Are Stars and Night.

One of the reasons I love writing in rhyme is that while my logical brain is figuring out the meter and rhyme, my subconscious is helping me write the story. I didn’t have a clear idea of exactly where the mother and child would go on their journey, but that part seemed to happen fairly easily. I wanted each spread to express love in a slightly different way without being saccharine, and metaphor helps with that. I also wanted there to be a twist at the end of the story, so instead of returning home and simply falling asleep, grown-up and child take an even bigger boat into dreamland, turning the ending into another beginning.

El Space: What do these poetic picture book narratives from the mother’s point of view mean to you as a parent?
Kate: Now that my children are in their twenties, I find myself wanting to write about steadfast love, and even pregnancy. Perhaps I am revisiting that early time when a caregiver can cozy up and with a small child and find many different ways to say, “I love you.” Ultimately, this seems to be the most important message we can give our children at any age: “I love you. I will always love you, and I will be there for you, no matter what.” The third spread in You and I Are Stars and Night conveys this sentiment:

El Space: How is your work attracting other forms of media that celebrate it?
Kate: I’m pleased to say that all of the reviews have been kind, with The Horn Book calling it “the epitome of a bedtime book,” and Amazon ranking it number two on their list of Best Books of the Year so Far for Children 3-5, and number seven when considering books for children of varied ages. Richard Jones, my fabulous illustrator, has also gotten a lot of attention for these illustrations on social media. Nicolette Jones, the children’s book reviewer for The Times in London included a selection from the book in an article about “images that blew my socks off.” Here is the one she loved:

El Space: What are you working on now?
Kate: At the moment, I’m working on a number of different picture books. Most are in rhyme but one is not. Because I write so many stories in rhyme, it’s sometimes a nice challenge to write a story in prose.

Thank you so much for the opportunity to talk to you today, L. Marie. I really enjoyed it!

El Space: Thank you! 😊

You can find Kate at her website, X, and Instagram. 

You And I Are Stars and Night can be found at Barnes and Noble, Bookshop, Target, Amazon, and a great bookstore near you.

One of you will find You And I Are Stars and Night in your mailbox or tablet. Comment below to be entered in the drawing. The winner will be announced next week.

You And I Are Stars and Night illustrations by Richard Jones. You’ll Always Be My Chickadee illustration by Sarah Gonzales. Author photo by Roberto Falck. Photos courtesy of Kate Hosford.

Agatha in the Interim

Summer is shedding the last of its days, though with the current heatwave here in the Midwest, it doesn’t feel like it. But in this interim season, my thoughts turned to mystery novels. So, I grabbed some out of the library to indulge in some cozy reading.

 

I’ve read most of Agatha’s mysteries over many years. Her books make me think of cooler weather, apples, drafty houses, and crackling fires.

My favorite books by Agatha involve Hercule Poirot and Jane Marple out there doing their mystery-solving thing.

I’ve also seen the adaptations that used to broadcast on PBS (with David Suchet as Poirot and Joan Hickson and Geraldine McEwan as Jane Marple).

 

And I’ve seen the movie adaptations starring Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot. I have yet to see the movies in which Kenneth Branagh plays Poirot.

 

(Left) Peter Ustinov in Evil Under the Sun

Ages ago, when I commuted over an hour one way to work, I used to listen to the audio versions of Agatha Christie’s books and short stories, read by David Suchet and Hugh Fraser, who played Hastings in the series.

For some reason, my mind locked away the solutions to some of her books, thus enabling me to still be surprised. (Though many of the mysteries are not hard to figure out.) I still enjoy even the books for which the solution is no longer a mystery.

Now that fall approaches, what are you reading? If you read mystery books, what series do you recommend?

Photos of movie poster and TV production logos found online. Book photos by L. Marie.

Lightning in a Bottle

This post is about an idiom: “lightning in a bottle”/“to capture lightning in a bottle.” Please keep that in mind if I mention something you could care less about initially.

The other day, I watched a review of Avatar Aang: The Last Airbender, a 2026 animated movie set in the world of two animated Nickelodeon series: Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. All of the above are the creations of Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko.

Since Avatar: The Last Airbender (not to be confused with the Avatar movies directed by James Cameron) is my favorite show ever, I was eager to watch the film, which unfortunately was denied a theatrical release due to being leaked online earlier this year. I watched it on Paramount +, thanks to the kindness of someone who allowed me to see it on her account.

   

Anyway, I won’t go into much of what the reviewer said or even my reaction to the film. As I mentioned earlier, this post is about the idiom, “lightning in a bottle,” a phrase the reviewer used.

Though I know you already know it, I’m going to give a definition for that idiom anyway. According to Merriam-Webster online: “lightning in a bottle”/“to capture lightning in a bottle” means “to succeed in a way that is very lucky or unlikely.”

I’ve heard people give the opinion that it is impossible to capture lightning in a bottle more than once. That follow-ups to works so well-crafted and critically acclaimed are doomed to fall short of the glorious heights of their predecessors. This includes sophomore series by the same creators.

I can’t say I know for sure that it is always impossible. My expectations for some of the adaptations of my favorite books are usually at basement level. I’m already assuming that the developers won’t come anywhere close to the “lightning in a bottle” sensation I attribute to the written works. Even if they get one film in a series right, surely, they’ll mess up at some point—is my assumption.

However, I have been pleasantly surprised. The Lord of the Rings film trilogy, co-written and directed by Peter Jackson, and the Dune movies, co-written and directed by Denis Villeneuve far exceeded my expectations.

 

Yet I have wondered, in the wake of critically acclaimed books that were such breakout hits, if the author would be hamstrung in writing the next one.

While in grad school, I asked one of my advisors, who had won a Printz Honor award for one of her young adult novels, if she felt the pressure to “live up to” that award. She agreed that yes, she felt the pressure.

How sad. But how human.

What do you think? Is it possible or impossible to “catch lightning in a bottle” more than once? Have you ever been disappointed by the adaptation of or the sequel to a book or movie you enjoyed? Why or why not?

Aang as a kid photo from chappydagger.wordpress.com. Other photos by L. Marie.

Decoding the Fantasy Subgenres

Back in the day when fantasy was still a bit niche, a few fellow students in my undergrad writing program looked askance at my goal of writing fantasy novels. Writing the Great American novel was considered “real” writing.

I took their ridicule in stride. And what do you know? Fantasy left niche territory and marched full steam into mainstream. But its mainstream status introduced a ton of subgenres, some of which I find a little confusing.

The other day, I found myself asking questions like
• Is there overlap between grimdark fantasy and dark academia? Between grimdark and dark fantasy?
• Is cottagecore fantasy cozy? Are there rules like with cozy mysteries? Is hopepunk cozy?
• Is solar fantasy like steampunk?
• What’s the difference (if there is one) between high fantasy, low fantasy, and epic fantasy? What about historical fantasy?


• Is steampunk science fiction or historical fantasy?
• Is the sword and sorcery subgenre still a thing? (I looked it up and discovered that some now call it heroic fantasy.)
• What exactly is flintlock fantasy? Is that a real subgenre? (Turns out, it is a real subgenre.)
• Where do fairy tale retellings fit with any of the above?


• Is Harry Potter dark academia or a portal fantasy?
• Is paranormal fantasy still a thing?
• Where does court intrigue fit?
• What about urban fantasy?
• In what subgenre do all of those stories of magical libraries belong?
• Where does magical realism fit?
• Can I get two chocolate cake donuts?

Okay, that last one has nothing to do with fantasy subgenres.

Don’t worry, I’m not asking you these questions, especially the donut question.

I feel like I need a Venn Diagram to understand the differences and similarities, especially when people describe books as a combination of two or more subgenres or the antithesis of them: grimdark meets steampunk; solarpunk versus dystopian.

In desperation, I watched two YouTube videos in which the different fantasy subgenres were discussed. Look here and here if you want to see them. Spoiler alert: Both YouTubers gave opinions about the subgenres. So, I’m not sure if the definitive definitions of these subgenres exist somewhere.

As for me, I’m content to just say I’m writing fantasy novels.

How about you? Are you well versed in the fantasy subgenres? Indifferent to them? Are you craving a chocolate cake donut like I am? Please comment below!

Fantasy world image from wallpaperpassion.com. Castle on book image found at dreamstime.com. Other fantasy image found somewhere online.