Aisha and the Beast

I've dropped below the radar for a while with the onset of the winter school quarter, but I've appreciated all the wonderful emails and messages I've received for the New Year. Thank you for reading Farro and Sulfur and enjoying them enough to take time out to let me know your thoughts.Your encouraging words have been the fuel for my next project, which in atmosphere, narration, and setting is bleaker, slower, and more character-based than either of my previous novels.

Aisha is not what Khensa was -- obstinate, impulsive, and quick. Aisha is quiet. She's self-sacrificing, lonely, and considers herself to be neither brave nor strong (though, I shall allow my readers to be the final judge on that score). Aisha is sad and yet bound to her sadness by an obligation dictated to her by the familial culture in which she was raised.

"Marry the Lord Pathi," her father told her, and she had obey even though he was too old, and even though he was already married.

"Come home with me," her father pled, knowing she would have to sacrifice wealth and comfort to do so.

"Sacrifice yourself in my place," her father wailed.

Eventually, she would agree to all of his demands. Not because she was a fool, and not even because she cared for him, but because she loved her dear little sisters, who every day feared they would end up like her.

Perhaps Aisha's story isn't to your taste. Perhaps you prefer a heroine who wears her feelings on her sleeve, who speaks her mind, and lends herself to the great adventures. But then Aisha's story deserve to be told, for it is my opinion that she is braver than any other, even if her courage is harder to detect.

This is Aisha, but of the Beast I will say nothing, for that would be spoiling the story, and I'm already afraid I've spoiled too much.

Until next time!

Arreana