Ban Rona Book Club

Slithering, skittering

To think that as recently as a year ago, creatures like this lived only two days' ride from my house! And some may still; who knows? How hideous this mangling. How sad this sadness.

“Look!” Kalmar said, pointing at something large and scaly as it slithered out of sight. Another rustle came from the other side of the path, and Janner spotted a creature skittering up a tree with spidery legs—it was no bigger than a dog, and he thought he saw human hands grabbing twigs as it climbed. As they walked they saw more and more creatures, some so hideous that they defied description. One lumped across the path, legless and gurgling. Another, visible deep in the trees, had limbs as long and thin as poles and strode through the boughs tearing leaves and munching them with long black teeth. In each misshapen face Janner saw the shadow of a deep sadness, as if the eyes were windows into a dungeon where a prisoner wept.—From chapter 49, "Cave Paintings."
What was your favorite snippet from this week, whether from our book club reading or anywhere else in the series? Post it in the comments!We've got berry buns and cider in the forum, and you're invited. :-) 

Bellowed defiance

Thousands and thousands of Fangs. A little army equipped with forks and farming tools. One leader, bellowing ferocity into the hearts of his followers. Read this section aloud—and bellow.Bonus: Check out this video of Andrew reading a different section of this chapter.

Then the wind carried a sound out of the darkness, from the direction of Torrboro. It was the sound of oars splashing, of boats thumping against one another, of trolls grunting and growl-moaning, of Fangs hissing and snarling. Above it all they heard the sound of crows squawking overhead, messengers of the coming doom.Maraly stood and drew her knives as the orphans around her drew their forks and held them out in trembling hands. Armulyn the Bard stepped over Artham and moved forward with his whistleharp in one hand.“AWAKE BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF SKREE!” Gammon screamed from the end of the dock. He stood with his sword in the air. He turned his back to the river so all could see his black hat and mask. The F and S glowed blood red on his chest. “NOW IS THE TIME FOR COURAGE. WE MEET THE ENEMY WITH STEADY HEARTS, FOR DAWN HAS CONQUERED DARK SINCE THE MAKER SPOKE THE WORLD. THE NIGHT IS DEEP, BUT LIGHT RUNS DEEPER. LET OUR BLADES AND BLOOD PROCLAIM IT!”Every man, every woman, every child in the market that night raised their weapons and bellowed their defiance of the Fang army and Gnag the Nameless and every wicked thing that ever soured the sweet world. Their shouts tore across the River Blapp and echoed off the walls of the Castle Torr, returning to them like a gust of wind and doubling the din.—From chapter 41, "Storytime with Artham."
Did you have a favorite excerpt this week? Post it below!Come hang out with us in the forum. We can't wait to hear your thoughts. In particular, I'd love to hear what you think of this—and here's a good conversation, too.

Yellow cheek water

"I don't care what color it is!" This exchange cracks me up every time I read it.

“So why did you come?” Claxton asked Jimbob, though his eyes were still fixed on Maraly.“The Fangs say they need our help.” Jimbob’s voice trembled. “They say that if you don’t come and fight, they’ll treat us like all the other Dugtowners.”“Is that what they said,” Claxton muttered, turning his attention back to Jimbob.“But you told us we didn’t have to fight nobody!” one of the Stranders said. “We don’t fight for nobody but ourselves! You told us that!”“Aye, you said we just had to hide here until the fightin’ was over! We ain’t nobody’s soldiers.”“And you said we’d get some cupcakes!”“Quiet, all of you!” Claxton roared. “First of all, the cupcakes were fer the ones who came with me to Snoot’s. I said I’d try to bring ye back a few.  I’d try. Ain’t that what I said, Poggy?”“Exactly,” Poggy said. “And even us that went didn’t get none.” Maraly noticed her face was smeared with bright yellow icing.Others noticed it too. “What’s on yer cheeks?” one of them shouted.“It ain’t icing. It’s—it’s water.”“Sticky yellow water?” said the second man. “Poggy, that makes no brains!”“Quiet, I said!” Claxton bellowed. “Forget the cupcakes! If ye want some, we can get ’em tomorrow after the Fangs have run of the place again. Second of all, no, we don’t have to fight. Jimbob here’s going to send word back to the Fangs that he found us fighting the Dugtowners out in the mudfields to the north. It’s all part of me plan. He’s gonna tell ’em how brave we are, aren’t you, Jimbob?”“If it means I can get one of those cupcakes tomorrow, then yeah,” Jimbob said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll tell ’em anything.”“Can I have a dip of some of that yellow water on your cheeks, Poggy?” the first Strander asked.“Nobody’s eatin’ cheek water!” Claxton shouted, banging his fist on the wall. “I don’t care what color it is! Now listen,” he continued in a conspiratorial tone, “we just have to hide here and keep quiet. The Fangs will do their battling, my mammy will keep bringing me soup, and in the morning”—Claxton thrust out his chest and beamed—“I’m the King of Dugtown. Actually, I would like a nibble of that goop on yer cheek, Poggy.”—From chapter 32, "The Weaver Family Reunion."
What about you? Do you have a favorite excerpt this week? We'd love to hear it—just post it in the comments!Thoughts, questions, gripes, wild speculations, and Florid Sword impersonations are all welcome in the forum. Head on over, and bring a friend. I'll see you there. :-)i had a dream that i was wakingBy the way... this is happening today. :-)

Refuge

In Dugtown, that villainous hive of scum and wretchery, Sara and her orphans have made a cozy home. Sometimes we find ourselves in villainous places, and we are powerless to change the villainy. But we don't have to live in fear. And a cozy place where we can love and be loved can push back that fear so that it stays in the street outside.
Sara hurried through Dugtown with Borley at her side, feeling less safe than she had in months. It was as if everyone she saw was a Strander in disguise, as if every wall or trashbox or alleyway was in fact the entrance to a burrow into which anyone could be abducted at any moment. As if the Fangs on the other side of the Blapp weren’t dangerous enough, now Gammon said there were spies and treachers right here in Dugtown.Sara and Borley passed the Flabbit’s Paw, then made their way up Grimppity Avenue to the barracks where Sara’s orphans stayed.The building had once been a linen factory called Thimble Thumb’s Threads. Fangs had made a wreck of the place in the years after the inva- sion, but the orphans had made quick work of cleaning it out and cutting sheets and blankets from the piles of discarded linen in the basement. The children were well used to hard work in the Fork Factory, and had been so desperate for a place to call their own that in a week’s time Thimble Thumb’s had been transformed into the coziest spot in Dugtown.As Sara climbed the front steps she heard singing inside—this wasn’t unusual, except that the children’s voices were now accompa- nied by the soaring melody of a whistleharp skillfully played. Borley smiled at Sara and opened the door.
Something to think about: How can we make welcoming places for each other?What was your favorite snippet from this week's reading? Post it below! And if you'd like to share your thoughts about what you've been reading, come join us in the forum. We'd love to get to know you.

The Houndry Corps fights back

This is such a stirring scene. I recall hearing that single woof from our snug house that night, and wondering what it meant. Professor Sidler and I are so grateful for those dogs and their fearless mistress.
Leeli made her way downstairs in the quiet of the house. She knew there were wounded Hollowsfolk in most of the rooms and didn’t want to disturb them. When she reached the bottom floor she heard the murmur of voices and the clink of dishes being cleaned in the kitchen. Oskar stood at the door and smiled when he saw Leeli.“Leeli! I’m glad you got your rest. It was a day to write about, I say!” He bowed, which made his swoop of white hair flop from his bald head. When he straightened, the white strands stood up like a plume of feathers until he palmed them down again. “Someone is here to see you.”
He opened the door and Leeli stepped out into the cold night. First she saw Thorn O’Sally standing beside Kelvey and their father, Biggin. They smiled proudly at her, then stepped aside so she could see beyond them.
Dogs had congregated in the front yard of Chimney Hill—it seemed that every dog in the Hollows had come. They sat at attention, tails wag- ging furiously, though their faces were grave. Baxter limped forward and barked once. Hundreds of dogs answered with a single woof.Leeli smiled so wide her lips cracked and she grunted with pain. Baxter cocked his head and whined at her in answer. She stepped down from the entrance and moved through the dogs, patting heads and scratching behind ears. There were so many that they made a pool of warmth in the cold night.“I don’t know dogspeak half as well as you, but it was pretty clear they wanted to see you real bad,” said Biggin. “They wouldn’t leave us be until we marched straight here from the houndry.”“They’re waiting for orders,” Thorn said.“And they’ll only take them from you, Miss Wingfeather,” Kelvey added.“I don’t know what to say.” Leeli stood in the sea of dogs and looked to Biggin for help.“Tell them what they’re supposed to do next,” he said.Leeli felt one of the dogs licking her ankle. She knelt down and found Frankle, the rowdy pup. Leeli clapped her hands and he jumped into her arms. She stood up with Frankle as still as a sleeping babe in her arms and looked around at the Houndry Corps, feeling a pleasure that made her proud and humble all at once.“We fight back,” she said. Then she whistle-clicked the same words in dogspeak.Frankle raised his head and howled with all his might—which wasn’t much. The rest of the dogs joined him. Their howls rose into the night and the Hollowsfolk who were awake to hear them were glad.—From chapter 24, "Visitors at Chimney Hill."
What scene this week stirred your heart, or made you laugh, or just felt right? Share it below in the comments! Then join us in the forum for bibes and friendship. There's been a flurry of activity this week. Here are a few good conversations to get you started: Andrew's sly sneakery; fruit (FRUIT!); ridgerunners and trolls; Turalay; guilds; sadness and lament; recipes; and the hope for a Wingfeather CD. :-) See you there!

Janner Acts

When it comes to making decisions, are you more like Janner, or like Tink?
The leader drew an arrow with one hand and discreetly uncapped the bottle of poison with the other.“That’s a bad idea, Grouzab,” Janner said. “I won’t let you kill this troll.”“Have you any fruit?” Grouzab asked.“Not for you, I don’t.”“Then Gnag’s offer is better than yours. Go, boy. Leave us to our mischief.”Grouzab dipped the arrowhead into the bottle. Janner felt panic rising in his chest. He should be running for Ban Rona. He should be busy making a shelter in the falling light, or tending to Baxter. Instead he was surrounded by ridgerunners, in defense of a troll. A troll! This was what he got for acting without thinking first—like Kal always did.Then again, Kal, who always managed to get himself into trouble, also managed to get himself out of it. So what would Kalmar do next? One thing was sure. Kalmar wouldn’t stop and consider all his options. He would simply do. Kalmar followed his instincts, and somehow it worked out.But Janner didn’t trust his instincts. As soon as he felt one, he questioned it. So what was his heart telling him to do? Not his fear, not his brain, but his heart.No, that wasn’t right either. It wasn’t his heart he needed to listen to—it was the love in which his heart rested. That was what he needed—the love of Nia, Kal, Leeli, Podo, and the love of the Maker who had kept him safe thus far. He rested in that—and he acted.—From chapter 15, "Janner Gets Carried Away."
What was your favorite excerpt this week? Post it in the comments! Then, come hang out with us in the forum. I'll get the tea started, and we can talk all about trolls, ridgerunners, fruit, and other exciting topics.

The Valor of the High King

Kalmar is wonderful here. If you read the previous chapters, you'll know that he is struggling with something that weighs on him, and it will (spoiler alert?) keep weighing on him for awhile yet. But I love to see him run, and to fight for those he loves, and to be seen as a warrior by people who have been suspicious of him, and all this even before he has finished wrestling with the matter which haunts him. Take heart. We, too, can be both broken and valiant.

The Fang crackled into dust, and Kalmar plummeted to the earth. When he hit the snow, his teeth clacked together and every bone in his body shuddered. But seconds later he realized he was sliding, then tumbling downhill. Without wasting a moment to collect his wits, Kalmar found his feet and raced toward the Field of Finley, thinking not of the gathering monsters behind him but of his family, his friends, and the Hollowsfolk who needed his help.When at last Kalmar reached the hill that overlooked the encampment, his strength was spent. He stood on the hilltop, swinging his sword wildly at the cloud of beasts as they feinted and screamed and circled in the air.It was Carnack Ban Soran who saw him first. He was standing with his clansmen around a fire, holding a skewered hen leg over the flames when he glanced to the west. As he would later tell it, he saw a cloud of darkness whirling about the hilltop. He thought it was smoke, but instead of rising, it spun downward like a bewitched storm wind. Then he spotted Kalmar Wingfeather at the center of the churn, covered in green Fang blood and dust, wielding his sword like a hero of old. Ear piercing shrieks broke over the Field of Finley, yet through the awful sound cut the clear, golden voice of the High King of Anniera: “Help!”Arrows sprang from a hundred bows. The archers cleared the air of Bat Fangs in moments, then thousands of the fiercest fighters in Aerwiar poured over the hills to the aid of Ban Rona.Kalmar fell to his knees as the warriors raced past him. “Arrows . . . archers . . . to the Keep,” he panted. “Help them.”Then he collapsed into the snow.Carnack would later boast that it took two men to pry Kalmar’s fingers from the hilt of his sword.—From chapter 12, "The Center of the Storm."
What did you love best in this week's reading (chapters 7-13), or what passage leapt out at you this week from anywhere else in the books? Post it below!See you in the forum!

Lost in the snowy woods

Thorks! Is there any man, woman, child, or beast who would not be horrified by the hideousness of the thork's slinking composition and needle-sharp teeth? The very sight of them is enough to drive the stoutest heart to quivering and madness! And yet, this paragraph's vastness and beauty laugh at the horror of thorks and their squirming.

After a few minutes of hard running, Janner and Baxter burst from the line of the forest and tumbled into the snow.When he had caught his breath, Janner stood and brushed himself off, making sure they had left the thorks behind. The sun had crested the horizon and it gilded the wintry hilltops stretching away for miles. It was beautiful country, and the vastness reminded Janner not only that he was far from home—but that he was lost. Whichever way Baxter had come into the woods to find him, it wasn’t here. And there was no way Janner was going back into those woods to find the trail. Part of him was glad, because it meant the test was fair again, and with a prayer of thanksgiving for Leeli he sat next to Baxter, relishing the sun’s warmth as he finished the breakfast the thorks had interrupted. He was surprised to realize that, alone in the bright snowy morning, he was happy.—From chapter 5, "Thork Whacking"
Pick a favorite excerpt from your reading this week (from chapters 1-6 or anywhere else), and post it below! Then, come hang out with us in the forum. I'd love to hear some stories about blindplopping! :-)p.s. Have you preordered Andrew's new album yet? ;-)

The stories are true.