Hello, friends!

Spring has sprung here in Glasgow, with crocuses and daffodils popping up around the city, and it all feels much more cheerful than it did a few weeks ago. It’s the perfect time to try something new—which is why I went to my very first longsword class yesterday.

Swordfighting (well, Historical European Martial Arts more broadly) is something I’ve wanted to try ever since moving to Glasgow. As someone who grew up avidly reading Tamora Pierce novels about girls trying for knighthood, it was only a matter of time! I wasn't sure what to expect, but I had an absolute blast. I’ve never considered myself much of an athlete, but swordfighting is apparently the perfect martial arts for former theatre kids. It feels like half of the coaching boiled down to "Commit to your choices and be dramatic" which about sums up my experience of acting, as well!

It's been a while since I tried to learn a totally new skill, and I forgot how much fun it could be. I spent an hour and forty-five minutes feeling completely uncoordinated and only able to remember half of what I'd been told. Then, for a joyous moment or two in the last fifteen minutes, the whole motion came together and felt right. All sports are applied physics; you can tell when the momentum is and isn't there.

I think something similar happens when you’re starting a new creative project. I’ve got the second draft of my DFA novel, a Southern Gothic urban fantasy, sitting in a metaphorical drawer at the moment until I can revise it over the summer. I've got an idea for a high fantasy novel (with swords!) rattling around in the back of my brain, to be touched only after my DFA thesis is submitted. But right now, I'm working on the remaining part of my thesis—the part which I've been most nervous to write for the past three years. I have a very, very rough draft written of all but one of these essays, which sit somewhere between literary analysis and creative nonfiction, providing context for my novel through discussion of ghost stories, urban fantasy, and the South. I've written plenty of straightforward academic essays before, but this is a little outside of my comfort zone. Soon, I’m sure, it will feel as natural as swinging a longsword slowly toward someone’s head. Which is to say: almost like I’ve got it right.

I’ve got my first two academic conferences coming up this summer. I’ll be leading a writing workshop at the Once and Future Fantasies Conference in Glasgow this July. We’ll be writing some urban fantasy together and looking at ways to bring the supernatural into real places—it should be a lot of fun! Then, about a week later, I’ll be headed to Dublin for the International Gothic Association’s 2022 conference, on the theme of Gothic Interruptions. I’m presenting a paper on Libba Bray’s 1920’s fantasy series The Diviners, one of my favourite YA series of the past decade. Bray deftly weaves the bright glamour of the Jazz Age with the horrors of the time period, and I'm excited to discuss what makes the last book so hopeful despite (or because of) all its ghosts and ghouls.

In case you missed it, I've also had two poems published in the most recent issue of From Glasgow to Saturn. You can read "After Bodywork, With Sea and Floral Curtains" and "would you like to rate and review your trip?" for free here.

In truth, most of my reading this year has been for thesis research or the English Literature seminar I've been teaching this semester. But classes end next week, so I’ll hopefully have a little more time to read for fun! In the meantime, I was recently gifted Sue Lynn Tan’s Daughter of the Moon Goddess. I’m not finished yet, but it’s a delight so far! It follows the daughter of the Chinese moon goddess as she goes on the run and comes into her powers, all while looking for a way to save her mother from exile. If you enjoy mythological retellings, court intrigue, and lovingly described meals, this may be the book for you!
(Isn't the cover gorgeous? The interior of the book is also beautiful. It has PINK. ENDPAPERS.)

Finally, to close this newsletter, I illustrated a seasonally-appropriate knight:
For the Celtic knots, I used this excellent brush pack for Clip Studio Paint. The background was also inspired by some pages from the Book of Kells, which were recently put online—you can view them here. The flower on the sword's crossguard is a dogwood bloom, one of the first signs of spring in my home state; and the flower dangling from the pommel is a crocus, one of the first signs of spring where I live now.

Hopefully she doesn't struggle with allergies as much as I do.

With love,
Siobhan