Ban Rona Book Club

Welcome to the Ban Rona Book Club 2018

Can I help you?I’m Madame Sidler, the librarian. Are you here to join our book club? Wonderful! Let me show you how to find the discussion forum. See that signpost, right over there? The one that says Stories with Bittersweet Endings and True Stories (If You Dare)? Head that direction, and you’ll see a Ban Rona Book Club sign, and under it, a cozy little meeting room. No need to sign up; just go right on in. I’ll be there in a minute. I think I see someone who needs some help.::disappears::


This week, Madame Sidler will be reading chapters 1-5 of On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Come back on Friday for some tea and discussion! Meanwhile, make yourselves at home in the forum. The whole site is wide open for anyone to participate (old threads included) and we are glad to have you. :-)

Ban Rona Book Club 2018: The Details

Can I help you?This is Madame Sidler, the librarian. Last Monday we announced that we’re relaunching our online book club. I hope you’re as excited about this as I am! Here’s how it’ll work.All four fanned outI will be making my way leisurely through The Wingfeather Saga all year long. This works out to about thirty pages, or five chapters, each week. (You’re welcome to read at a quicker pace if you’d rather.) Each Monday, I'll publish a blog post as usual—fan art, review, news, or something like that—and let you know what chapters I'm reading that week. Each Friday, we'll talk about the reading. Most weeks I’ll post an excerpt from the chapters we read, and invite you to post a quote of your own in the comments. Other weeks might include a discussion question or an activity instead. And all week long in the discussion forum we'll be talking about what we loved, what made us think, what confused or bothered us, what made us cry or laugh, and the ways our lives intersect with the story we're reading.I love these books, and I love you readers. I'm so excited to get this book club started. :-)See you next week!


Team Featherhead: Our short film is now listed on IMDb! We're looking for viewers to add their own ratings and reviews. This helps with visibility and gives interested studios important data to take into account as they consider whether or not to join the Wingfeather family. If you've seen the short film (links here) and want to see more, we'd appreciate your review! You can also add a review on Amazon. Thanks for your help!

Ban Rona Book Club 2018

 Can I help you?Welcome to the Great Library of Ban Rona. I’m Madame Sidler, and I’m the librarian here. I’m excited to announce that we’re relaunching our book club!If you're just discovering The Wingfeather Saga through the animated short film A Crow for the Carriage and cannot wait for the next installment to know what happens next, we're here to help! And if you've already read the Saga but are ready for a re-read, me too. :-) Pull up a squishy chair, pour yourself a cup of tea or tanjerade, and get ready for some fun conversations. Our hope is that you'll enjoy experiencing the story together and make a few friends along the way.The book club officially starts on Monday, January 22. I’ll be back with more details next Monday.Meanwhile, if you need me, I’ll be around.THE STORIES ARE TRUE.::vanishes::

The melody fierce and joyful

With this excerpt we come to the end of "The Places Beyond the Maps" as well as the end of Wingfeather Tales. We've had some good forum discussion about these stories—conversations about dragon hunting, the risks of friendship, where we got stuck and what we loved. You Featherheads! I enjoy you. It's good to dig into this stuff together.What a full, rich story this last one was. So hard. So unexpectedly graceful at times, even in the midst of those hard places. Like the glorious number One Thousand, so satisfying to count to. I was hoping for a paragraph or two that would close out our book club with poignancy and beauty, and this part was perfect.


The man was curled on his side in the middle of a shallow river whose waters rushed dark and behind him the darkness grew while before him a clear light spread like the refractions of diamonds and yet there was no source to it but it was everywhere, and he knew that he had been crossing that river though he had no memory of his first steps into those waters or of why he had lain down in it.He tilted his head and listened now because there was a lovely music, and at first it had seemed far away but it drew steadily nearer and the man felt himself stirred by the melody fierce and joyful, and he sensed in it the beginning of something like a kindling of a flame in his bones, a stirring that was both within and without and that was calling him to rise and he thought that it must be the music of the whatever-came-next, the music of the forever wild and unmapped lands, of the places beyond all maps, urging him on across that last river, and it came to him with a sense both of nostalgia and of expectation that it was a music he had known before or perhaps always known and had always heard in the wind and the stars and in the beating of his own heart like a melody that had never ceased playing though he could not quite yet name it, and he craned his head towards the source of it and opened his eyes.
What was your favorite part of this week's reading? Post it in the comments!I hope you were able to join us for Tuesday's live chat! The videos are still available on the Wingfeather Saga Facebook page (here and here).See you in the forum!

The tricorn

I love the epigraph for this section. It might be my favorite—there is something about it that is so exquisite and heartbreaking. But an epigraph is not an excerpt, so I picked this instead.


His clothes were stiff with sweat salt and stank and he had given this no consideration for months but in this place he felt the offense of his own stench and so removed his outer garments for washing. But once he had done so his right hand chanced into the pocket of his submerged breeches and his fingers closed on the tattered silk tricorn and he drew it again from its long dormancy and stared at it sopped and dripping in his fingers, and his thoughts fell mute as any animal, mute even to himself, until he realized he was weeping and then did all his sorrow overtake him again in the stirring beauty of that place only this time it was because of the vast and irreconcilable gulf between the word spoken by the beauty of the meadow grove and the word spoken by his own loss, and he knew himself then as alien to this landscape and without purchase in the bliss of it and sensing his own exile he wondered what airy creatures unacquainted with sorrow could ever dwell long in such a place, and then he wiped his eyes and looked upwards and fixed his intention a final time towards that clouded summit and the great question he was sworn to ask there.
Was there a passage this week that stuck out to you? If it isn't too spoilery, post it in the comments. If it is spoilery, post it in the forum—I would love to hear what you think. There are good conversations to be had.This coming Tuesday (April 11) at 7:30 Central, Andrew and Douglas McKelvey will be having a live chat on Facebook! See you there!

Nightmoths

This section sounds sometimes like a western and sometimes like The Princess and Curdie. An excellent combination. And have you noticed how silent this story is? Each section has at least one conversation in it, but in between are stretches of weeks and months where there is hardly any sound even outside the man. The soundtrack to this film would be very sparse. I find this effective and would like to know what you think.


Along the way were wonders the man had never heard rumor of. Great plumes of steaming water that blasted upwards from barren rock. Small silverish creatures that looked as if they were made of molten metal and slid over rocky terrain like dripping rivulets. Swarms of glowing nightmoths that numbered in the millions and wrought the fields strange with luminance where there should have been shadow so that it seemed as if he rode at times the underside of some other world in which darkness shone and those things too solid for darkness to pass through cast about them instead shadows of fluttering light.One night the man and horse were followed by a dozen lithe limberwolves more inquisitive than aggressive and the man gripped his blade unsheathed and kept alert to their movements in the field but was more curious of the bearing of the pale horse when it was asked to hold its nerve in such a hostile surround.The horse rolled its eyes and laid its ears back but trusted the man’s calming voice and did not spook and after more than a league of such tense company the wolves caught some other scent and wheeled away to the north, leaving the travelers to their journey.They slept that night in a meadow illumined by nightmoths and when they set out the next morning they crossed into a dead forest of blackened, moistureless trees and rode it for three days till the horse’s hooves were smutted by the passage over an endless carpet of ash that muffled all sound in that stillness. They slept in the ash and they breathed in the ash and they saw no creatures stir in that grey place save an unkindness of ravens alighting on spindly branches from which dark cinders dispersed and floated downwards like snow misremembered.
What was your favorite passage this week? Post it below! And then come hang out with us in the forum!Henry cover mediumDid you know that Jennifer Trafton, the author of "The Wooing of Sophelia Stupe," has a brand-new book coming out on Tuesday? It's called Henry and the Chalk Dragon, and it is wonderful. You can preorder a signed copy at the Rabbit Room. Preorders come with two free coloring pages!

Tumbled backwards

This second section of Douglas Kaine McKelvey's Wingfeather Tale begins with a quote from one of my favorite books. (I appreciate the epigraphs in this story so much. I can't decide whether this one, or the one from part four, is my favorite.) I have been reading out loud to myself, which is sometimes difficult because DKM writes very long sentences and I occasionally run out of breath, and sometimes difficult because I have to stop and cry. This section, like The Wailing Orchards, made me cry. In particular this scene stood out because it seems to me that there is some providence here, but it is so hard to receive.


He somehow achieved that dire crossing without incident.But stepping up to the high opposite bank then he had lifted his hands joyfully to the sunlight that it might receive him, and in doing so had lost his balance so that he tumbled backwards into the river and was tossed and swept helplessly along for a great distance, repeatedly dunked by currents and abused by river stones as if he were a pile of laundered rags. He felt himself endlessly rolled, his lungs half slogged with water so that he sputtered and spewed all the way. As a further indignity, the driftwood staff caught up to him and, violently spun by the waters, struck the back of his head stiffly before careening away beyond his grasping reach.And so the man found himself viciously unmoored from his recent ecstasies, all illusion of ethereal self vanishing as the river sped him eastward mile upon mile, back the way from which he had come.
What was your favorite sentence or paragraph this week? Post it in the comments! And then come talk in the forum. There is so much here to discuss.

Small moments

"The Places Beyond the Maps." This paragraph stood out because it reminded me of the Igiby cottage, and yet the stories of these two families are so profoundly different. (More on that in the forum? I would love to hear your thoughts.)


One did not ask for much in those days, just to be together, just to locate and cultivate and nurture those small moments that would spring in the memory like perfectly delicate blooms of joy in a private, walled garden.
What paragraph stood out to you this week? Share it below.What would you need to survive occupation? Where is the Maker in all this? What do you need to talk about? Come to the forum.