Join best friends, Hannah & Karen, as we travel through the pages of our favorite romantasy novels, starting with Rebecca Yarros' 'The Empyrean' series. Perfect for those who have soared through both 'Fourth Wing' and 'Iron Flame,' our podcast re-explores these beloved books with fresh insights and lively discussions! *All episodes include spoilers for the entirety of Fourth Wing and Iron Flame* Each week, we embark on a new chapter-by-chapter adventure, beginning with a summary report from ...
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The science fiction and fantasy podcast for lizard people, by lizard people. Odd episodes are devoted to non-book-form genre fiction, movies, TV shows, music, and games; even episodes are book club discussions. Spoilers abound.
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Edited by Christie Yant and Arley Sorg, FANTASY is a digital magazine focusing exclusively on the fantasy genre. In its pages, you will find all types of fantasy—dark fantasy, contemporary urban tales, surrealism, magical realism, science fantasy, high fantasy, folktales…and anything and everything in between. Fantasy is entertainment for the intelligent genre reader—we publish stories of the fantastic that make us think, and tell us what it is to be human. Every month FANTASY will bring you ...
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Ep 4 Fourth Wing Deep Dive: Chapters 5-8
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Join your fellow squad mates, Hannah and Karen, as they dive into chapters 5-8 of Fourth Wing, re-experiencing the story through the lens of Iron Flame! In this episode, Hannah and Karen begin with a ‘Scribe Report’ (chapter summary) before taking flight into key moments, foreshadowing, & theories! They wrap up by exploring overarching and lingerin…
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Ep 3 Fourth Wing Deep Dive: Chapters 1-4
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Join your fellow squad mates, Hannah and Karen, as they dive into the first four chapters of Fourth Wing, re-experiencing the story through the lens of Iron Flame. Hannah and Karen begin with a ‘Scribe Report’ (chapter summary) before crossing the parapet into the Rider’s Quadrant for a deep dive into key moments, enriched with transformative insig…
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Ep 2 Groundwork: Deep Dive of Fourth Wing Through The Lens of Iron Flame
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Your fellow squad mates, Hannah and Karen, lay the groundwork for their in-depth exploration of the first book in the Empyrean series, Fourth Wing. They discuss their plans for analyzing it through the lens of the second book, Iron Flame. Discover what makes a reread of Fourth Wing an entirely different experience, including foreshadowing and Easte…
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Ep 1 Introduction: Who We Are and How We Fell In Love With Fourth Wing
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Welcome to the Dear Fantasy Reader podcast, where best friends, Hannah and Karen, travel through the pages of their favorite romantasy novels, diving deep into the chapters— exploring characters, scenes, theories, foreshadowing, and more! They will begin their journey with Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros, taking what they’ve learned from the second b…
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P A Cornell | Once Upon a Time at the Oakmont
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On the island of Manhattan, there’s a building out of time. I can’t tell you where it is, exactly. It has an address, of course, as all buildings do, but that wouldn’t mean anything to you. What I can tell you is that the building is called The Oakmont. | © 2023 by P A Cornell. Narrated by Nan McNamara. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megap…
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Lara is a summer witch born with fruit rich on her tongue, a monkey god's chittering beneath her skin, and a full July sun's worth of love for love. Her ba claims to have read Pasternak, but she knows it was Julie Christie's face he traced when he named her, Julie's yellow-gold hair her ma made fun of him for admiring, bright as an August afternoon…
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The chrysanthemums are dying. The yellow flowers face downward, stems wilting at the neck. Their petals curl and brown at the edges like burning paper. You lift one of the ragged blossoms up, as if to try and help it support its own weight. You keep the flowerpot on the kitchen countertop right by the apartment window where it can get the most sunl…
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In the fading shadows of dawn, a hunter meets a wolf with white eyes, a wolf whose mouth stretches open, and in its growl there are three faraway voices, distorted as if heard through water, so the hunter shoots. He does not wait to see what he has done. | © 2023 by Lowry Poletti. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit…
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Hana Lee | Bari and the Resurrection Flower
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The forest whispers of my sister’s arrival long before I sense her. Birds flutter between pink-girdled maehwa trees, mocking her voice in the tongue only shamans understand. Seonbyeon, Seonbyeon, they repeat mindlessly, and this is how I know my sister is looking for me. But I don’t know which sister, not until she finally appears from the forest g…
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It takes a Black woman to tell the truth about another Black woman, whether she likes that woman or not. If the woman in question is loved, the story reaches mythological heights, she could do no wrong, she was brown skinned and beautiful, intelligent, had all her faculties and her teeth, all the men and women of the neighborhood called her by a te…
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It's so dark. Black-orange-bloody-bruised. Flashlights throw long beams across the sand. Police lights flicker blue and red, blue and red, blue and red, and the Ferris wheel on the pier glows an obscene neon. No one thought to turn off the calliope. It echoes off the empty boardwalk, cheerfully macabre. | © 2023 by Margaret Jordan. Narrated by Roxa…
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Outside is the palace of slaughter. Under its gambrels of boiling sky, there is the cold unforgiving sea; there are mountains ready to cradle your bones. Along its corridors of singing grass, there are horseback warriors who will cut you to pieces. | © 2023 by Simo Srinivas. Narrated by Judy Young. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.…
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Daniel Ausema | What Passes for Eyes in Dreams and Death
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I am haunted by a funeral, a pageantry of mourners and tears that I can only barely remember. I am not certain, but I suspect the funeral may be my own. The mourners are masked in elaborate disguises. Feathered and ribboned and silk. If I know any of them, I don’t know that I know them. The flowers arranged beside the casket seem to carry some mean…
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Don’t feed him, Greta. We can’t afford to feed him! There’s not enough to eat! We were lost when we found the tower made of sugar that stretched up into the sky in endless red and white spirals. A sea of ants milled at its base. Fat dollops of sugar dripped onto the surrounding trees, candied the leaves, and brought curious bees to hover. ©2023 by …
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The beheaded tilapia nudged teasingly against the riverbank in a bloody soup, staining the lush weeds beneath the little girl’s feet. Oblivious to the stench, she squatted beside the muddy water, her gaze tracking over the dead fish. There were a dozen of them, freshly killed. Flies had only just begun to settle over silver flanks, scuttling shyly …
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I walk into Old Town. In a curio shop on the promenade, an old man sells paintings, deras, kikois, and ornaments. Tuk-tuks move swiftly along the cabro paving, passing the teapot sculpture at the round-about. Pushcarts lumber beside the street restaurants and past the old buildings covered by vines. A radio plays “Malaika,” the song rising like a w…
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The toe wiggled at Mirella from the compost heap. She let the lid drop with a thud and a cloud of flies. Enough. Time to order an electronic composter. | ©2023 by K.A. Wiggins. Narrated by Judy Young. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoicesBy Adamant Press
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“Everyone’s making bread,” I say, trying to sound casual and not like I’m terrified, because talking about bread is easier than talking about what’s going on. My phone balances on my belly as I lie in bed. “It’s like the pandemic hit, and everyone’s collective delusion went ‘I’ll bake bread, that’ll solve it.’ I just don’t get it.” | ©2023 by Effie…
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You hear the door open as if in dreaming. Back when you were a conservatory student, you chewed a third of a melatonin tablet every night—to keep yourself from snapping awake before sunup, chest tight, your head still achy with exhaustion. Now, mornings are difficult: your eyelids weighted, sliding; thick grey wool between your temples. Your body d…
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Malda Marlys | A Princess With a Nose Three Ells Long
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In a castle flanked by fjords, so very far from everything that the winds rarely raised its banners, there lived a troll princess. Her mother was a troll queen, by virtue of a castle and a bad temper, but queen she was, and her ambitions did not end at the still shores. | ©2023 by Malda Marlys. Narrated by Ruth Wallman. Learn more about your ad cho…
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Lowry Poletti | The Dead Return in Strange Shapes
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The dead return in strange shapes, yoked to those who mastered them in life. Thais sees them: shadowy animals who slink between the townspeople in the market square. When he was born, so he is told, his mother held up his birth-wet body and pressed her nose to the middle of his brow. They lay together, crowned by oak branches dragged low to the gro…
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Erin Brown | Skyscrapers That Twist to the Sun
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Shaundra took the small, empty cardboard box and swiveled on her work stool to place it gently on top of her daughter Dineisha’s head. Her daughter went cross-eyed trying to look at it and started chewing on the corner of her thumb, smiling at the game. ©2023 by Erin Brown. Narrated by Janina Edwards. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megapho…
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I’m happy on the road. The land stretches like a languid animal, and I find tranquility in its measured length. Outside the car the earth breathes, the ground rising and sinking. Even though I am the one driving, concentrating on the road and the trucks roaring past, it’s like a meditation for me—my mind empties into the open space. ©2023 by Flossi…
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Angie is three months dead before I get her letter. She sent it the week before she died, and I guess that figures; the postal service got fucked in the twenties and never recovered. Maybe she even relied on that delay. ©2022 by Jennifer R. Donohue. Narrated by Justine Eyre. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices…
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Victor Forna | Parebul of the Mother, Asked in Moonlight
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Walking, crossing, moon-kissed streets, black top, blue jeans, unwashed. Her afro is home to a million brown-winged birds, everlastingly chirping. There’s a baby boy, eight months old, asleep in her arms, and maybe he dreams of beautiful spinning star-like things because he doesn’t know of the hurt in the heart that loves him. ©2022 by Victor Forna…
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Aimee Ogden | SOC 301: Apian Gender Studies (Cross-Listed with ZOL 301)
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The bee liberation group meets at seven o’clock every other Thursday in the group study rooms on the fourth floor of the Main Library. Hannah tears tabs from the flyers that they post all over campus—outside the big auditoriums in Wells Hall, on the doors of the dorm cafeterias, in the women’s bathrooms—and feeds them into her jacket pocket. When s…
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The sun draped itself over the left armrest of the couch at dawn, while Zella sat waiting for the typewriter’s tapping to commence next door. Even though she’d tossed and turned all night in the summer heat, she still found herself rising early, expectant. | Copyright 2022 by Z.K. Abraham. Narrated by Susan Hanfield. Learn more about your ad choice…
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Aigner Loren Wilson | The Black and White
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She wasn’t at his funeral, so I took the van around to where I knew she was staying while she was in town. He always taught us to stick close to our home. It was her ex’s place, a rundown one-story with dead grass and an old plastic playground for some forgotten children. | Copyright 2022 by Aigner Loren Wilson. Narrated by Janina Edwards. Learn mo…
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Paris Opera Ballet, 1841 / You’re enjoying your reprieve here at the opéra, m’sieur, are you not? All the wealthiest gentlemen do. Here in the exclusive foyer de la danse, wives are forbidden and young girls lightly clad. Champagne obtained, you complain of your tiresome wife—how she will never replicate a young girl’s bloom, no matter how much rou…
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K.S. Walker | How to Join a Colony of Sea-Folk; or, Other Ways of Knowing
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Step One: You Wait - You are patient and your love, true. There is nothing you cannot withstand. | Copyright 2022 by K.S. Walker. Narrated by Justine Eyre. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoicesBy Adamant Press
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Elizabeth is the first person to notice I’m inside her. “Tell me how to do it,” she whispers. It’s a shock. No one has spoken to me directly in ages. I’m nothing more than a whisper when I slip beneath her skin. I’m less than a breath. I should be undetectable, but somehow, I’m not. It might have been a relief—to be acknowledged, to be known—except…
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P H Lee | A True and Certain Proof of the Messianic Age, With Two Lemmas
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Once upon a time, in the dark ages before the singularity, there was a fox who, while walking its way along a riverbank, saw a great big bevy of catfish fleeing in a panic this way and that. Curious, the fox called out to the fishes, saying, “Good fishes of the stream, I see you fleeing in a panic this way and that. I do not wish to interrupt your …
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Ninth - It is a few days before your suspicions are confirmed. Perhaps it is the baggy trousers your daughter has started to wear, or that she picks at her food. She will lie if you ask her outright, this you know. You throw her bedroom door open without warning, the damp towel clutched around her chest after the shower the only barrier between you…
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The year was 1999. Tupac’s Brenda’s Got a Baby was the anthem in Old Creek ghetto. Yes, I wasn’t born. But the first time, in a beat-up, metal-scrunched blue taxi, on her way back home, when the song came on, Mother felt my first kick coincide with the blistering bass beat. It’s a wonder how I knew that feet were made for dancing. | Copyright 2022 …
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Sabrina Vourvoulias | The Memory of Chemistry
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We hunt for the structure of the universe in its ghosts. - Dr. Michelle Francl / In the beginning / In the beginning was the trigger warning: / Prepare for insects. Prepare for words in Latin and Spanish. Prepare for science and other species of the supernatural. Prepare for losses that rewire the chemistry of the brain. Prepare for aging and the w…
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Sara S. Messenger | Potemora in the Triad
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There are always three: the father, the unfather, and the child. That’s why Vriskiaab threw my unfather off his back after she bore my baby sister, or so Vriskiaab tells me when he stops in the shade of a dune, his massive scales warm under my calves and the tail of him stretching behind me for leagues. My baby sister is soft and crimson-tacky in t…
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Fatima Taqvi | Baba Nowruz Gives His Wife a Flower Only Once a Year
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My mother tells me all the wrong stories. In our hut beneath the cypress trees, my mother opens up at story time. She steps away from her apron and her broom, her heaps of marjoram and pennyroyal, her pestle and her mortar, and her ingredients for medicinal soups. She throws off her scarf, and oils our hair with fragrant sedr oil. We keep company w…
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K. J. Chien | One Day the Cave Will Be Empty
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“Tell me again about the night I was born.” Li Shing drags the comb through her daughter’s oil black hair. Impermeable, like a starless sky reflected against a dense sea. Or a fish’s opaque cloudy eye as it gasps at the bottom of a boat. Li Shing’s fist accidentally brushes the creature’s clammy gray neck, and she tries not to shudder. | Copyright …
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The clatter of rain against the window draws Lesley close. “Hey,” she hisses from across the kitchen. She calls me by my old name and I don’t even flinch. It’s morning, and I’m trying to get breakfast done before Mom comes down, because a perfectly fried egg makes her more likely to say yes to what I’m about to ask. The light was coming through the…
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In the beginning, June and Nat are best friends. June is not yet a swarm of honeybees and Nat is not yet a cloud of horseflies, and the king hasn’t yet decided that separating them into parts like this—June’s left pinky finger one bee, her left ring finger another—is the only surefire way to strip them of what they really are. Which, at least in th…
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Zayyan meets Cecilia on the first day of freshman year. He does not believe in love at first sight, but he does believe in the scientific method, and what is this moment if not empirical evidence of the former? She is like no one he has met before. Black hair pulled into a messy bun, bare arms laden with books, brown eyes ardent as a summer storm. …
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I am not an illness. I’m a soul with a goal. Everyone on this floor is here for intrusive thoughts, ideations, risk of harm to themselves or others. What society used to call possession, they now call neurotransmitter imbalance or schizophrenia or obsessive compulsion. | Copyright 2022 by Gabrielle Harbowy. Narrated by Gigi Yellen. Learn more about…
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Isabel J. Kim | Christopher Mills, Return to Sender
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This is the dead thing becoming the body. This is the dead thing opening the body’s eyes. This is the dead thing rising from the grave. This is the dead thing saying “What the hell—I didn’t ask to be summoned. I was having a great time being dead and dreaming about nothing.” | Copyright 2022 by Isabel J. Kim. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki. Learn more…
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Last week, in a tangerine raincoat that did not suit her pallid skin tone, Phylicia Wimby smiled through her lies. There is an 87% chance of rain for tomorrow. Due to the high probability of unpleasant weather for the entire week, we predict the Cousins won’t be arriving until next week at the earliest, once the rain dries up. Her and all the other…
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Darla Revere was born to live her whole life as part of a conversation, the outcome of which she would never know. She was raised to be certain of three things: 1. The leviathan will come for you. She will come suddenly and without warning. 2. You will feel great joy and pain at the moment she contacts you. Be prepared. You may only ask her one que…
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The coffin lies at the curb, tilted aslant on the strip of grass next to the sidewalk. Old Mr. Byerly spies it on an evening walk through his suburban neighborhood. It’s been put out alongside a pile of other discards—an old-fashioned lawn mower, a chrome-legged kitchen table, a bookcase with only one shelf. The stuff is from a house that’s under r…
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Shalini Srinivasan | Markets: A Beginner’s Guide
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In the folds of banyan trees, between the treeish world and ours, are markets. Real markets, not the pale human sort that happen every week, as if things that are worth buying happen every week. A banyan market occurs one day a year, which is as often as trees are willing to entertain on such a lavish scale. And once a year is just barely enough ti…
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“When in doubt—” I catch Thomas’s eyes and hold up a jar of sparkle lip gloss. “—add more glitter.” The mirror we face is cracked and wreathed in vanity lights that flicker in time with the strained chugging of the ancient generator outside. The smells of old perfume, road dust, and hush puppies fill the painted wooden wagon that serves triple duty…
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Aline-Mwezi Niyonsenga | Saviour of the Light Market
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Rain soaks through my hair, stretching my coils to wavy locks streaming down my face. A cold gaze follows me through dark windows, reminding me of Lisa’s face. I complained about my parents, once. | Copyright 2021 by Aline-Mwezi Niyonsenga. Narrated by Janina Edwards. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices…
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When Madison S. didn’t show up to school, and word got around that it was because her boyfriend threw his phone at her mouth and knocked out four of her teeth, the junior girls of Clark High turned into monsters. Taloned, screaming things driven by rage and revenge. We swarmed her boyfriend, Josh C., by his car after school, and though he tried to …
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