Wicked fairies and christenings
Way back in late 2000 or early 2001, Palo Alto mainstay Stacey's Bookstore was having a going-out-of-business sale, and Nao and Stephen and I wandered in to pick up some books.
The selection had been pretty well picked over by then, but in the sf section, one of us noticed some Patricia Wrede books. I allowed as how I had never read any of her stuff, though I kept hearing good things about it, and N and S recommended it. So I grabbed the three books that were there.
Which were books 2, 3, and 4 of a four-book series.
I always figured I would pick up book 1 elsewhere. Instead, I eventually stuck the three of them on my shelf of "paperbacks I'm going to get rid of if I don't get around to reading them soon." That was, oh, probably five or six years ago.
Then sometime in the past few weeks, Mary Anne mentioned re-reading the Wrede dragon series, and I allowed as how I had never read any of her stuff, though I kept hearing good things about it, and M said she thought I might like this series, and I noted that I had the last three of them already.
And then a couple days ago Kam and I wandered into Books, Inc in downtown Mountain View, and it occurred to me that I ought to pick up the first book of the series. So I did, and I've now read and enjoyed it. Fun!
And the primary point of this entry is really just to post a quote that I liked, as an item for my commonplace book.
I had certain mild concerns about the book's handling of a certain aspect, but those concerns were resolved by the appearance of Princess Alianora. So I was already in a good mood when I got to this bit:
"[...] It started when the wicked fairy came to my christening."
"She put a curse on you?
"No. She ate cake and ice cream until she nearly burst and danced with my Uncle Arthur until two in the morning and had a wonderful time. So she went home without cursing me, and Aunt Ermintrude says that that's where the whole problem started."
--p. 68 of Dealing with Dragons
Oh, and here's another bit I like:
"[...] thou and he shall die by my hand. Thou hast but to choose the manner of thy death."
"Old age," Cimorene said promptly.
--p. 118
