“Natural beauty is myth transposed into imagination and thus possibly redeemed.”
For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in another world entirely.
It’s a world where trees grow to hundreds of feet in height, dragons fly about freely, ancient magic is intertwined with the natural world around us, and imagination runs amuck. Most of all, it’s a place where the environment, much like our own, is at a tipping point, but there is a chance to salvage it, to live alongside it.
“Stones,” as I’ve temporarily named the trilogy that I’m currently writing, is the product of a childhood spent imagining and an education, official or not, into the world of literature. It’s where I can question our humanity in relation to the natural world that we deny in our modern existence, where I hope to bridge the illusory chasm between nature and society, where people of any age or background can learn to appreciate the fragile beauty we hold in our palms and imagine a find a place of their own to stay.
As Phillip Pullman once upon a time said:
There are some themes, some subjects, too large for adult fiction; they can only be dealt with adequately in a children’s book.