The upfront disclaimer should be that I love fairies. I read about them, write about them, hide statues of them in the garden for the children to find. I would draw them if I could draw my way out of a paper bag. I especially love them when they've been re-imagined, which I think gives them back some of the power and splendor that has been taken away by one too many flower-fairy reproductions.
So it's no surprise that I enjoyed reading Small Persons With Wings. Ellen Booream's fairies, oh excuse me, I mean Small Persons With Wings (they loathe being called fairies), might be small but they're regal, fierce and strong-willed -- and yet still, somehow, lovable.
Thirteen-year-old Mellie might not agree with the lovable bit. She likes to think about things logically. She likes information to be ordered, precise and factual. She does not like imaginative leaps of fancy, and she really does not like fairies. Which are not real. Not even Fidius, the fairy who lived with her for several years when she was much younger and who vanished before she could prove to her classmates that he was real (which he wasn’t, no sirree). Since then, her devotion to science, mathematics and the ephemera of art history has not won her any friends – and nor has it stopped anyone calling her “Fairy Fat.”
Then her parents inherit an inn from her grumpy, alcoholic grandfather and they move to a new town, something Mellie greets as a welcome chance to start over. Unfortunately, the inn is infested – not with mice, or rather, not only with mice, but with Small Persons with Wings. And they need Mellie's help.
Click here to read more!
Sounds good! I'm gonna order if from the library asap. So glad I discovered your blog!
We're glad you found us!