Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’

I’m happy to share another dragon tale today. Dragonboy is a short film, recently featured by author J. Keller Ford on her blog, YA Chit Chat. It just might be the cutest thing you’ll see today. Check it out here!

This animated short was made by a group of film students. Like “The Optometrist and the Dragon,” a short story I shared last week, it takes a fresh and engaging look at that age-old triangle between dragon, princess, and knight.


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Rather than just asking what a group of dragons should be called, it might be better to ask if there would ever be a group of dragons. After all, you seldom find dragon groups in traditional stories and myths. Dragons such as Fafnir and Hydra are distinct individuals, so dreaded and powerful that nothing more is needed for them to be an effective monster. Not to mention that these dragons are fiercely jealous. How likely is it that they’d allow another dragon near their territory and/or hoard?

There are a few names, though, that might capture the danger of many dragons coming together. A “plague,” a “swarm,” even an “invasion.” Interesting that these come from insect groups — locusts, bees or ants, and roaches.

If the dragons in question are of the more intelligent and noble variety, perhaps they would be known as a “council.” Intelligent but evil dragons might form a “congress” or “parliament,” especially if they spend a lot of their time in ferocious arguments.

Well, what do you think? Is a group of dragons a “plague” or a “council?”


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Read Full Post »

What do you call a group of dragons? The question arises because I recently ran across one of those listings where they give the clever, and sometimes bizarre, names for groups of animals. (A “flange” of babboons?)

In names for dragon groups, the two leading contenders are both from modern literature. Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance series gives a “thunder” of dragons from the sound of their wings.

Anne McCaffrey’s Pern books present a more complicated name set. A “weyr” is a group of dragons living in a fixed location (also called a weyr) and mostly related to the queen dragon who lays all the eggs. McCaffrey’s dragonweyrs have a quasi-military structure, with fighting groups known as “wings.” Any other grouping of Pernese dragons is a “flight.”

Also to be noted is Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, where the swamp dragons have a distressing habit of exploding under the wrong conditions. A group of these dragons is an “embarrassment.”


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

 

 

Read Full Post »

Long ago, in France, there was a terrible dragon known simply as Drac. She was a sorceress as well as a dragon, and had learned the secret art of invisibility. People around her domain could never know when she was nearby, and never knew where her lair was. They only knew the dread of her evil.

The stories tell that Drac had a clutch of eggs. Being a selfish mother, she abducted a young woman from one of the villages and demanded that she care for the newly hatched dragons. If she refused, her entire village would be laid waste! The hapless girl had no choice but to comply.

For seven long years, she tended the vicious brood. She fed the babies raw meat, cleaned up their waste, and tended their hurts when they squabbled and scratched each other. The captive longed for freedom, but since Drac could make herself and her young invisible, she could never know when she was safe. She had no hope of escaping.

But then one day, the woman was rubbing the young dragons with a special cream Drac provided. She touched her own face and some of the cream got into her eyes. To her amazement, she gained magical sight and could see the dragons even when they were invisible. The woman was clever, and desperate. She pretended to see nothing.

Soon enough, all the dragons flew off. The woman seized her chance and ran back to her village. She hoped to gather a force and march on the dragon’s nest. With her gift of sight, she would tell the soldiers where to strike and destroy Drac’s brood!

Alas, the woman had been missing for seven years. No one recognized her, and they would not listen to her plan. Then Drac returned home and found her captive gone. She flew to the village, invisible, and heard as the people there rejected the woman’s plea. As soon as she had a chance, she snatched up the unfortunate woman and tore out her eyes. Thus ended the threat to Drac’s reign of terror.

Throughout the 13th Century, rumors flew about the location of Drac’s lair. There were numerous attempts to destroy her, including full-scale military campaigns. She survived them all. Centuries have now passed, and Drac hasn’t been seen in many a year. It’s believed that she died of old age. However, her legacy lives on in a town called Draguignan in the French region of Provence.


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Read Full Post »

Coming up on January 16, it’s Appreciate A Dragon Day! In celebration, here’s a reblog from 2016.

Appreciate A Dragon Day

Appreciate A Dragon Day was created by Christian children’s writer Donita K. Paul in 2004 to commemorate the publication of her novel, Dragonspell. This was the first in her award-winning Dragonkeeper series.

Paul called upon her readers and fans to recognize the significance of dragons in cultures all over the world. She urged participants to choose one special dragon character and re-create it for others, explaining why the dragon is your favorite. Her web site includes a number of suggestions, such as puppetry, classroom or library activities, and various art projects.

How can I resist? My favorite dragon is Mnementh, the first speaking dragon character in another first-of-series book, Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonflight. This, of course, was the first in her ground-breaking Pern series. I read it as a teen. Until then, I had heard and read only of evil, destructive dragons. The idea that dragons and riders could bond in a friendship that nothing could destroy was captivating.

Mnementh was a bronze dragon who stayed calm and carried on while all the humans were getting frantic. He set the standard for me, and I went on to write lots of Pern fan fiction in my twenties and thirties. Many friends I met during that time are still close today. My husband, for one!

So here’s a toast to Mnementh and his writer, Anne McCaffrey.


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Read Full Post »

It’s hard to believe that I’m heading into my seventh year of blogging here at Wyrmflight. Way back in 2012, I was looking for ways to publicize a podcast of my middle-grade novel, Masters of Air & Fire. The book is focused on a family of kid dragons, and I thought a blog might be a good way to begin.

I figured I would go with the topic until I ran out of ideas. At the time, I was most familiar with the European idea of a dragon, though also aware that there were Asian dragons, too. Six years later, I haven’t run out of ideas yet.

Sure, there are legendary dragons like Fafnir, Typhon and Tiamat. There are literary dragons like Morkeleb, Smaug and Kalessin. But who knew there were trees named after dragons? Or flowers? Or fish? Who knew dragons could be ghosts? Or rivers? Or cosmic guardians? Who knew a dragon could rule the underworld?

So here’s to all the dragons, from ages long past and from contemporary minds. And here’s to you, my readers, whether you’ve been following for all six years or just found me. Long may we fly on the wings of dragons!


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?

Read Full Post »

Here is part two of my short story, “The Winter Wish.” Those who have read my collection, Aunt Ursula’s Atlas, will recognize this as an indirect sequel to my lyrical fantasy, “Dandelion.” Think of it as my holiday gift to you. Enjoy!


THE WINTER WISH, Part 2
by Lucy D. Ford

“How I wish I could see the winter’s snow,” sighed the grimchild.

He gazed up, between the dismal towers. Stinging ashpall made eyes dull and hopeless. Only when he looked down… What was that?

On the ledge beneath the window, just at the corner, a stubborn plant clung to a miserly crack. Soot grimed its saw-tooth leaves, yet still it held a single stem aloft. A soft ball balanced atop this stem, pale as true dawn under a layer of smudge. The grimchild held back a cry of joy, for he feared what Nanny would do to such a delicate thing.

Drawn by instinct, he pushed the window open and cautiously leaned out. Fingertips stretched toward the ledge. Almost he could touch it. Almost… Then his feet lifted from the floor and his weight tipped forward. Common sense made him jerk back, though not without a low cry of sorrow.

With the merest brush of his breath, the dandelion loosed its seed. Each tiny pilgrim hung by its own gossamer sail. The harsh wind snatched them and they spun high and low. Each was a dream escaping the gloomy prison of the Withertines.

The grimchild watched until he saw no more. His feet were back under him, sensible and safe, but the cold, hard floor held a dragging weight. He wondered if he would ever escape the Withertines.

As for the dandelion seeds, the dirty breeze sailed them over the Shearwire Fence and out across the Chokedust Plain. Spirits flagged above the Crackstone Wash, and they might have fallen there, except a little Windkin flitted by. It played a while, swirling and dancing and spreading them wide.

At last a gossamer seed was left, just one. Within that one trembled the whisper of a wish. The windkin heard that cry. It spun about and sent the tiny messenger floating toward pine-clad mountains. The silken puff drifted higher and ever higher. It whisked above the pines and up the cliffs until it came to rest on the very tip of the Cloudtorn Peak.

There it found another crack, no larger than its cranny on the window ledge. The seed nestled into the dark with its precious dream.

Soon tiny roots began to spread. They reached into the crevice, digging steadily, and those roots made the crack grow. Bits of rock flaked loose, clearing patches of raw, bright stone. An arc formed, and with a trembling snap a great eye flicked open. More cracks spread, faster and faster. A second eye took shape. A pair of sharp ears twitched free of the rock. Nostrils flared. A longer slit took on the shape of a jagged mouth.

Change was racing now, sketching shapes that had always been hidden in the stony spire. The Cloudtorn Peak shook and crumbled. A great horny head slowly lifted toward the sky. Mighty shoulders heaved free, unfurling crystal wings. Then a scaly back, hips, long tail edged with icicle daggers.

The snow dragon gazed out, seeking the root of its wish. A far, dull glow caught its eye. Below the lofty peak, beyond the Chokedust plain, the Withertines glowered its light through the noisome ashpall. The dragon snorted jets of frost. The great maw opened and a roar turned the air to icy fog. Beneath its wings, bits of freezing fluff drifted down upon the stately pines.

Stretching, the snow dragon shook loose the last shard of stone that imprisoned its talons. Vast wings beat and chill air whistled through frozen feathers as it soared aloft. Downy puffs fell thick behind. High over the barren gravel of the Chokedust Plain it glided, across the Shearwire Fence, until it circled the metal spires and smoke stacks of the Withertines.

All night the snow dragon circled. Snow mingled with the ashpall, gathering soot as it fell between concrete towers. Snow settled on the filthy rooftops and the bitter asphalt. It washed at least the outermost layer of grime from smeary windows.

Inside their factories, grimkin shivered and dared not look up. They feared this was the end of all Industry, and they were determined to wring every last bit of wealth from it.

The grimchild knew nothing of this, for Nanny had drawn the drapes again and their rooms were always chilly. Only, in the morning, her shriek tore the grimchild from sleep.

Racing to the window, he gasped at the vista of gentle white flakes settling endlessly upon the town. Screeches echoed up from below as motorcars skidded. There was crashing and cursing, too.

“What is this?” cried Nanny.

The grimchild knew the answer, but he did not say it for fear she would shut the drapes again. Shivering with delight, he watched as winter visited the Withertines for the first time beyond memory. Just once he caught a glimpse of the gleaming white dragon who soared above the ashpall.

“Of all the things,” Nanny complained, trembling. “And shut that window! You’re letting the heat out.”

Obediently, the grimchild slid the glass down. He looked around their barren chamber, the plain slat furniture and the hard bed where he slept.

“Of all the things,” he murmured.

Nanny said the Withertines was all the world and there was nowhere else to live. Now he knew she was wrong. There was a world outside the Withertines, where lovely things could still be found. One day, he wanted to see them all.

So while Nanny tutted and fussed at the falling show, the little grimchild picked up his book and began to make a plan.

The End…?


Sign up for my newsletter and win a free E-book, The Weight of Their Souls. Just to go my Facebook page, AuthorDebyFredericks, and click the link on the left that says “Join my mailing list.” Easy, right?.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »