I recently finished two YA fantasy books sitting on The New York Times teen bestseller list. Both books feature strong female characters and well developed fantasy worlds. I highly recommend both books.

I should note, fantasy is not my first genre of choice. Give me a biography or historical fiction book and I am in heaven. However, students today are fortunate because there is plethora of new, smart, engaging fantasy books on the shelves.

At the NOVA Teen Book Festival a couple of weeks ago, both Tomi Adeyemi and Dhonielle Clayton spoke about the craft of writing fantasy. Adeyemi, a Harvard grad who studied West African mythology found the spark for her book in a poster of strong African warriors. Clayton talked about personal experiences that lead to her book.

While both of the books carried me along from start to finish (at times with a racing heart), the most powerful part of these books for me is found in the author’s notes at the end.

The Belles is about a fantasy world where six beautiful, magical sisters have the power to change everything about a person’s appearance. Set in a fairy princess-like environment, The Belles reveals a society driven by beauty and the fashion of the moment. At the end of the book, Clayton adds a long note about the genesis of the book. She talks about questions of self worth when she compares herself to the images in magazines and in her own world. Clayton cut out pictures of lovely eyes, hair, skin color, body type and pasted the random parts together to try to create just the right mix. Society’s fascination with ideal beauty weighed heavily on Clayton.

After reading her note, I saw The Belles in a whole new light. The book is a commentary on today’s obsession with appearance. What a brilliant way to help young people think about what they value! I was bowled over by the way Clayton used fantasy as a subtle mirror for all of us.

Children of Blood and Bone concludes with an author’s note as well. Adeyemi’s fantasy novel is about a kingdom ruled by an iron-fisted king who banished magic and ruthlessly kills anyone who is part of the communities and tribes where magic presided. The main character, Zelie, watched the king’s men murder her mother, a women with powerful magic and now fights to return magic to her world. The book is fast-paced and even with its 527 page total, I read it in a couple of days.

Adeyemi’s endnote was a surprise. If you had asked me to make a modern day, real world comparison, I would have looked at the Nazis who viciously targeted people based on origin. However, Adeyemi notes, “Children of Blood and Bone was written during a time where I kept turning on the news and seeing stories of unarmed black men, women and children being shot by police. I felt afraid and angry and helpless, but this book was the one thing that made me feel like I could do something about it.”

Children of Blood and Bone is not a commentary on history, but rather a look at modern tragedy. Adeyemi goes on to talk directly to the reader and adds, “If you cried for Zukaikha and Salim (characters in the book), cry for innocent children like Jordan Edwards, Tamir Rice, and Aiyani Stanley-Jones. They were fifteen, twelve, and seven when they were shot and killed by police.”

I commend both Clayton and Adeyemi for writing first-rate fantasy books. More importantly, I appreciate the reflection they offered me as a reader. I am reminded again…books are powerful things.

For weeks leading up to a trip,

I plan and consider how to spend

the days away.

Reading, resting, visiting, exploring…

I make more plans than

there are minutes in the day.

However, as I turn the key

in the bolt to our front door,

I breath in the comforting scents

of home.

Cozy slippers,

the well-worn corner

of the kitchen couch.

Travel is invigorating

but home is essential.

Tending a fire takes attention.

As logs burn and melt under

the glowing heat of the fire,

a careful eye must judge

the right time

to add another log

to a shifting stack.

Bright golds and yellows jump

when hungry new flames

envelop the sides

of the welcome, blanched log.

Warmth radiates and eyes return

to the pages of an open book.

A cold bite in the air,

each breath feels sharp and clean.

The first snow flake falls and

everyone wonders if it is simply

blowing snow.

But, flake after flake

falls in downy wonder.

The snow hushes birds,

dampens the rustling trees.

It is easy to imagine you

are the only souls

in the world

This past Saturday, thousands of people congregated in cities across the U.S. to March for Our Lives. Earlier in the month, our students walked out of school for 17 minutes to honor the students lost at Parkland High School and protest gun violence. In my community, many of those students headed down to the National Mall to march for tougher gun laws.

The swell of student activism reminds me that we must all start where we are…we must stand up for human rights.  Eleanor Roosevelt said it perfectly:

“Where after all do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home — so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any map of the world.”

What small thing can you do to promote human rights?

This evening I sit in a chair by the fire in our Mohonk Mountain House room. Nestled in the enormous Mohonk Nature Preserve, the Mountain House is a Victorian-era hotel built in the grand old style. Sweeping wooden staircases lead to hallways filled with large oak doors.

In the afternoon, tea and cookies are served in the great lounge and dinner takes place in a beautiful, big wooden dining room fronted by large paned windows. The Catskill Mountains rise up beyond the windows, offering a breath-taking view as the sun sets.

There is no television in our room and once I finish this blog post the last electronic device will be shut down for the day. We brought large book stacks and spent the late afternoon hours roaming the hotel scoping out inviting reading nooks.

Rest and relaxation, along with the restorative power of books, is the perfect recipe for the ideal spring break.

The seconds tick by,

Students exhale,

A bell finally rings

and the doors fly open

as the flow of students

pulses through the front doors,

like salmon moving

toward the comfort of a

quiet resting pool.

I once had a college professor who suggested the best practice for a writer is to sit in a coffee shop or restaurant and observe life.

A recent notebook observation:

“A large, gregarious man settled himself in a booth opposite a quiet, petite woman. As he unfurled his napkin he announced, “now to tell you more about myself….”