Fragile, ephemeral and full of hope

Isn't this amazing? This is done by a Swedish photographer named Erik Johansson.

Now, I've always been a big fan of MC Escher and the illusionist artist Kurt Wehner who uses the street as his canvas, but this picture by Erik Johansson holds a special place in my heart.

I like this particular image because Project #2 takes place in a glass city. No, it's not a fantastical world in which magic holds everything together. There's like a zillion reasons I chose this particular setting, but one of the main reasons is the fallibility of glass. It breaks, it shatters, it splinters. It's not forgiving, nor is it everlasting. It's hard, it's cold, it's dangerous, but it's oh, so very beautiful.

I've never thought of myself as a fantasy writer and my reading tastes have never included dragons, wizards or elves, except in the occasional fairy tale. I like mythology. I like sociology. I like cultures and the stories that first arose when people tried to explain the world around them.

So why did I end up writing about a glass city?

Because it's so fragile.

Because my characters are fragile.

I read this fabulous interview with Beth Revis, who reiterated her stance on dystopian novels stating,

"They are all, at their heart, hopeful. Create a dark setting, but populate it with characters that are willing--are fighting--to rise above it."


My characters are fragile, their world is fragile, but they are doing their best despite it.


...and since the movers are coming today to haul everything to the *new house*, I am certainly worrying about the fragility of things...