|Posted by rjagilbert on July 19, 2015 at 2:50 PM|
I spent Saturday at a book fair for indie writers. Most of the tables were romance novels; there were a lot of jokes about lingering too long at the tables featuring an array of shirtless men. There was one or two other fantasy authors there—writing to more of the grown-up, teenage crowd—but I was pretty much alone in my genre and my age group.
A few hours into the event, two children approached my table. A boy, about four, and a girl, aged five. Wearing a frilly dress and a dazzling, blue butterfly painted upon her face, the young lady began to talk to me about books. She was learning to read, she explained, so that she could one day read a special book she keeps in her room. When asked what it was about, she explained that she liked to think it might be about butterflies and princesses. Wow! What a wonderful opportunity to segue into my illustration of the old Bible found at the beginning of the Sarian’s Sword! But before I could begin, her younger brother opened up with his own line of questions.
The boy was more curious of the old-looking roll of parchment sticking out of the leather-backpack display I had set up for the Tales of Vantoria series. Was that a treasure map? No, I explained. It looked like a treasure map, but in reality it was…well…as I unrolled it to reveal an old wall-decoration depicting the ten commandments, I could not help but muse that, yes, some folks did consider that to be a map. Again, I began to explain how some people can mistake an old poster for a treasure map and miss out on the real treasure map right in front of them…but they had already moved on to the next thing on my table. It was the small square of chain-mail I wove a few years back just to see how hard it would be (it was hard). I like to tell people that it is genuine, Mythril chain mail (since some historians believe that Scandinavian legend originated from a Persian word referring to the glimmer of light on steel), but I knew better than to try to explain that line of information to my two young guests.
Attached to the chain-mail was a “lucky charm”, an old necklace with a four-leaf-clover encased in glass that I’d found at a craft bazaar several years ago. As I showed it to my visitors, I explained the function of chain-mail armor in battle—how it could stop swords from cutting and arrows from piercing through it. Then I asked: “If you were going into battle against goblins and trolls and all kinds of monsters…which of these two items would you want to protect you?”
The princess with the butterfly on her face did not hesitate to answer: “I think I would want the necklace.”
And that, dear readers, is a wonderful illustration all its own.