Tuesday, September 28, 2021

In which I lead you TO A DARKER SHORE

 

An image of five burning moths or butterflies, with the text TO A DARKER SHORE

It's been a spell so I thought I'd share a little here about my current WIP, a young adult fantasy in which an autistic shepherdess with aspirations accidentally damns her best friend, so she goes to hell to kill the devil. She doesn't let grief, kissing monsters, or chub rub in the furnace of hell slow her down. (Well. She may pause a MOMENT for the kissing.)

There was that same intensity, written in the unforgiving, eager lines of her face. "We're already in hell. We may as well sin."

TO A DARKER SHORE (#MonsterInferno on Twitter) draws on my Italian heritage as well as a few Greek myths (though it is not a retelling). The title comes (via a slight mistranslation by me so it fit the book better) from Dante's Inferno:

Non isperate mai veder lo cielo:
i’ vegno per menarvi a l’altra riva
ne le tenebre etterne, in caldo e ’n gelo. 
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens;
I come to lead you to the other shore,
To the eternal shades in heat and frost.

 

"Here you're no one. You're nothing. You're meat, or your teeth and claws."


But for all the "abandon all hope" of it, this book continues my tradition of writing dark fantasy that's really just an excuse for an inordinate amount of mutual pining, forced proximity, and happily ever afters. Three romance tropes dressed in a cassock if you will.


"The bow hung heavy from one hands. He ached for her to touch him again. it would kill him just as much as to hear no, with his end dark and near, and yet his heart lurched after the one answer he truly hungered for. Want me. Ruin me.


TADS also features friends to enemies to lovers, a girl who steals the sky, lightly veiled Catholic angst, and the biggest game of The Floor is Lava ever. A STEM girl and a painter boy. Monster makeovers (it's that thing where you make someone look worse/like a monster). What I've been told by professionals is a more lyrical prose style. Sadly no cats, but there are some sheep. And a nonna ready with her wooden spoon if you're acting foolish.

"'Monster!' She slammed her palms against the stone, at the beast obscured in shadows and her own reflection in the dark glass. 'I hate you!'"


Like I said, I drew from the stories I heard growing up, of the earthquakes and wolves that made my family in Molise say, hmm maybe we should give a different continent a try, as well as Greek myth, Milton, Keats, the life of Dante, and probably a few Disney movies. And possibly The Paper Bag Princess got in there somewhere, too. A lot of me is in the book, of course. There's on the page fat rep, a demi hero, two autistics in love, bis, and sword lesbians. The exploration of autistic masking (not the very good public health kind) and unmasking while isolated in hell was made all the more intense by writing this through the ongoing pandemic lockdown, as my sensory and processing issues have become dramatically more marked, and I'm not sure, like a certain cinnamon roll monster, how much I really want to rejoin society.


"'You only think I'm beautiful because you're surrounded by monsters.' 'No. I think you're beautiful because I'm surrounded by monsters and you came for me.'"


Here, have a playlist! I live in my headphones and have been listening to this (okay actually a much, much longer version) over and over the last several months. A friend sent me one song because it reminded her of TADS and I proceeded to listen to it sixty times in a row.


Have some memes that will only make sense if you've read for me, but maybe will give you a taste of the book?








not a meme, just my family nailing my brand during a discussion of Abruzzi e Molise

Have an aesthetic!

A novel aesthetic with images of a neon "inferno" sign, an icarus falling, a candle melting in a palm, a location tag saying "hell," a burning butterfly, a dark haired boy and girl, and a quote: "You either fall to the monsters or become one."


And finally, have an opening snippet, why not (I unrepentantly love prologues and haven’t revised this one out quite yet):

 

They chained her to the rock. Left her on the craggy island cliffside to feed a monster’s hunger. Her sacrifice would purchase paradise for the rest of her world.

Saltwater kissed her cheeks, whether from the sea spray erupting along the jagged dark coast or tears shed, only the gods could say. The air was all salt and spindrift. As if the world wept for the loss of her.

But it would not save her.

It would not unlock the chains that clanked as she began to shake. It would not bar the three beasts sent up the volcanic vents to fetch her down to hell—the shimmering dark leopard, the burning red lion, the coarse-coated wolf. The chains would break only under their powerful jaws. She would never again go in the ship that brought her here, through the treacherous sea. The men had already turned for home, kept safe another cycle by her offering. Without it, this place and its master would rain ash and evil over all, send tides of monsters against their shores.

The chains clattered now, like great teeth gnashing. Not the girl but the rock itself quaked.

The monster must be fed.


Thanks for reading and joining me in hell for a while. With the current state of reality it makes for a nice escape.



Art is the work of Mat Collishaw