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Julé! 10/31 - Foods!
The creative prompt for
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And finally, new potatoes with butter. With some chives. Honestly, so good.
***
When you see a possibly terrifying mythical creature, is your first thought, I’m totally gonna pet that? If so, then Sara Omer, author of The Gryphon King, might have something in common with you.
SARA OMER:
At its core, The Gryphon King is about a horse girl on a quest for vengeance versus a man with cat-related PTSD. But before I can get into the infernal horse and lion biology at play, I have to gush about the monster-riding story more generally.
Just as children wish for puppies, children reading fantasy books wish for dragons. The unbreakable bonds between fire-breathing beasts and reluctant heroes populate epic fantasy stories, but if giant flying lizards aren’t your style, there’s any number of mythic monsters that might be mountable (monster romance implications of that statement aside). I love a dragonrider story as much as the next person, probably more than most people, but there’s a whole ecosystem of underutilized fantastic monsters out there that deserve some time in the spotlight. In the empire of Dumakra in The Gryphon King, there is at least one stable full of flying horses that didn’t ask to be ridden into battle or form lifelong bonds with power-hungry morally gray disaster princesses, but we can’t always fight the fate we’re dealt.
Growing up, having my own horse was as much a fantasy as having my own dragon, but I like to think I lived a tangential horse girl experience. I wasn’t yet in kindergarten when I learned to ride horses, taught by the grandfatherly carriage driver Mr. “Grandpa” Clint, who drove his carriage around the town square. After learning how to drive a carriage at an age that was definitely not road legal (to the chagrin of many other children), Grandpa Clint taught me how to ride a horse at his stable. The horse for the job was an ancient old white gelding living a life of comfort in retirement, and who I enthusiastically urged to a flying gallop my first time on the trail. I had a wonderful time as my mom and Mr. Clint raced after, concerned I would be terrified or die, probably. Surprise, I lived. I think everyone should experience that exhilaration, and a few hundred feet off the ground while you’re at it.
I had a formidable collection (army) of Breyer horses, although unlike Nohra in The Gryphon King, I didn’t grow up with an imperial stable. But some family friends had their own horses and boarded them nearby. Sometimes I would get to go ride or hang out at the stable and in the pastures. Rambo, their stubborn paint gelding, was barely tall enough to even be considered a horse rather than a pony, and I vividly remember a time he got kicked, presumably for being an asshole, and the bloody branding of the hoof that slowly healed. For this and other reasons, I’m convinced every horse is a little like a dragon.
There are multiple breeds of mythic horses I added to the bestiary that is The Gryphon King. Because why stop at sky horse when you can have water horse? And when I really got to thinking about the biology of pegasuses, I wanted to explore their avian side. What better way to celebrate the incredible Eurasian horses and the birds of prey in the region than combine them into one omnivorous monster that has an appetite for blood? As if horses weren’t already dangerous enough, now they really, really want to eat your fingers and the barn cats. And—oh, look—the battlefield became good grazing once the fighting’s quieted down. Really, pegasuses are a little terrifying, and they’re not even the most threatening strain of horse in Dumakra.
The moral is that if you make a bird big enough, humans begin to look like the small animals scurrying through the tall grass, evading tooth and talon. And what’s more terrifying than horse-eagle? Lion eagle.
I have utmost respect for anyone who can make a big cat with a massive wingspan seem docile and friendly; I just think, considering the injuries a falconer could incur and compounding those with what might befall your average lion tamer, you should have to sign a few release waivers to approach a gryphon.
Maybe I made all my animals ferocious because nature is ferocious and dangerous, and when people play at power, they don’t come close to the might of beasts. But their actions have often irreparable impacts on nature nonetheless.
Fear and respect can coexist. Add a little human curiosity, and I would never fault anyone who decided to ride a murder horse. The Gryphon King is for the readers who would go out of their way to pet a man-eating monster, who would risk it all to bond with a creature that could kill them a few different ways on purpose or by accident—I’m a little scared for your wellbeing, but I respect the drive and share the dream.
The Gryphon King: Amazon|Barnes & Noble|Bookshop|Powell’s