I originally thought we were going to see SUCKER PUNCH this weekend. I mean, the trailer was pretty nifty. Dragons! Airships! Girls kicking butt! But both the critical reviews and the informal feedback led me to believe that I would be better served just watching the Disney mash-up trailer again instead. At this point I have too many suspicions that the people behind SUCKER PUNCH are of the belief that girls in sexy outfits kicking butt = female empowerment. Not that there aren’t plenty of great movies with girls in sexy outfits kicking but who are also empowered and have agency in their worlds.

So anyways, instead we say RED RIDING HOOD. And I really enjoyed it. It helped that I had just rewatched Veronica Mars Season 1, so I was predisposed to associate Amanda Seyfried with excellence. But I also loved the visuals (especially the village and Grandmother’s house), the band of multi-ethnic werewolf-hunters, and the fact that the love “triangle” wasn’t particularly sordid or annoying. But when it was over and Bob and I were walking out of the theater I kept feeling like there was something that had been missing. I finally figured out what it was.

Humor.

There was not a single scene or bit of dialog in that movie that made me laugh (intentionally). And it made me realize just how important humor is. Even in a dark romantic story about werewolves. Even in an epic fantasy adventure (hello, Merry and Pippen!). It’s the comedic notes that allow us, in a way, to take the brutal, epic stuff seriously. And without them, I ended up laughing at a number of inappropriate moments, because they just seemed so overblown and over-dramatic.

I really liked the definition that author Laura Amy Schlitz gave of comedy, in her recent write up of her choice in the ongoing Battle of the Books at School Library Journal. She writes:

Comedy is a celebration of human resilience. At its best, it takes the tensions and failures and tragedies of life, and transmutes them. It pulls the threads taut, mending the rift in the cloth. It draws the toxins out. And of course this is tremendously refreshing, because we are surrounded by tensions and failures and tragedies.

It’s fitting that I should be thinking of humor and comedy now. Because one of the writers who taught me the power of humor, how the best books make you cry and laugh, was Diana Wynne Jones. The world lost a huge creative talent when she passed away earlier this week. DOGSBODY was one of the books that made me want to be a writer. When I daydream about the kind of writing career I aspire to, I think of her. What an amazing legacy she has left us. Dozens of books, filled with flights of imagination and dazzling characters. And so many readers– so many authors, including me!– who name her as an inspiration.

Thank you, Diana Wynne Jones, for inspiring me to dream and to create. For making me cry over the ending of DOGSBODY and laugh over Chrestomanci’s quirks and hope for a happy ending for Howl and Sophie.

I will confess that I have not read every book by Diana Wynne Jones. I do that sometimes, with my most beloved and prolific favorite authors. Because I don’t want the day to come when there are no more. So I am, indeed, grateful that I still have copies of HEXWOOD and CONRAD’S FATE and several others sitting on my to-read shelf. I think it’s probably a time to pick one of them up and remind myself of the magic and wit and humor that Diana Wynne Jones gave us.

When I was a little kid I used to love to play along the creek by my grandparents’ farmhouse. One of my favorite things to do was to build small houses on the rocks along the bank, filling them with clover blooms and rosehips and birch catkins for the faeries who lived there.

What is it, do you suppose, that is so enchanting about the idea of tiny people living alongside us, under toadstools or even in our walls, making stools out of spools and bathtubs out of gravy boats?

I’ve read two different books lately that both feature small folk, and I loved both of them for different reasons.

(I won’t bother with plot summaries, but you can click on the titles below for links to Goodreads, where you can find much better ones than I could provide.)

Can you see how much I loved them from that gleam in my eye? Unfortunately some faery children have apparently run off with my camera cord to use it as a jump-rope, no doubt, thus I must rely on my (inferior quality) laptop camera.

Small Persons with Wings by Ellen Booraem has a rare sort of humor that reviewers have rightfully (in my opinion) compared to Diana Wynne Jones. There’s a certain absurdity to the antics of Mellie and the Parvi (the “small persons with wings”), but yet it’s balanced a weight of real emotion and consequence. A “grandeur” (to use a term oft-mentioned within the book itself). I particularly loved Mellie as a main character — she’s gutsy, determined and snarky. This one just came out in January, so it you find that combination as appealing as I do, you can check it out for yourself!

(Full Disclosure: Ellen is a friend, a lovely person, and and a fellow Mainer, though sadly several hours away from me. I first read SPWW a few months ago, pre-publication, and was honored to be able to provide a blurb.)

Arrow by R. J. Anderson is the third book in the series that began with Knife(UK)/Spell Hunter(US) and continued with Rebel(UK)/Wayfarer(US). Each book has featured a new main character, but is part of an overarching story of several bands of faery folk and their human allies, of love and honor and bravery and magic.

I have loved them each in turn, but I think Rhosmari may be my favorite of the three protagonists. Not only is she, refreshingly, a “faery of color”, but she’s a pacifist. She’s the sort of character a lesser author might have turned into a preachy, insufferable bore, but in R. J. Anderson’s hands Rhosmari is anything but. She’s vivid and full of emotion and over the course of the story her beliefs are tested to the core. I can’t say much more about her personal arc without spoiling it, but I really loved it. And then there’s Martin. Ah, Martin. I can’t help it. I am a sucker for bad boys when there’s a possibility of redemption.

(Full Disclosure: R. J. is also a friend. I feel very lucky to have had the opportunity to meet such excellent and talented folks– it is one of the best parts of having been published! I bought my copy of Arrow from Amazon UK, as it is sadly not available from any US publisher at this time).

And now the giveaway, courtesy of the vagaries of international postal service!

I ordered myself copies of both Rebel and Arrow from Amazon UK earlier this year. And waited. And waited. 15 days after the expected arrival date I sent a note to customer service. They wrote back to say something must have gone awry, and that they would send another set. And that if, for some reason, I did end up getting the first batch, to keep them with their compliments, since returning them overseas would be silly.

So this week, of course, I got both packages, one after the other. So… I am going to give away the extras: one copy of Arrow, one copy of Rebel! And while I’m at it, I’ll also send out a copy of Small Persons with Wings!

If you would like to win a copy, please comment on this post and tell me which book you would like (ARROW, REBEL, or SMALL PERSONS WITH WINGS) and why! And please provide an email address so I can contact you if you win!

I will pick three winners (one for each book) randomly on March 14th.

US/Canada shipping addresses only, please!

Note: I will ONLY be tracking responses to the ur-post on my devafagan.com site, and the crosspost on livejournal. If you comment on Facebook or Goodreads I will not be able to count it. Thanks!