Description
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About the author:
J.M. Robison is a hard-core fantasy writer who’s been writing for 16 years and completed 7 novels. The War Queen is her debut book and she has no other claim to fame; growing up in Bennington, ID (Good luck finding that on a paper map), she didn’t know what wireless internet was until she was 21. Having joined the U.S. Army at 17 with a deployment to Afghanistan and Romania, and working as a Deputy Sheriff, she’s seen a lot of people and been to a lot of places; the evidence of which frequently bleeds into her writing. Her goal in life is to quite her job, write books, and be happy.
What inspired you to write your book?
I conceived the idea for The War Queen In 2008. I’d gone for a midnight walk to the pillars above ISU campus in Pocatello, ID. I’m fairly imaginative and always creating stories and scenarios in my head, so while sitting beneath the pillars by myself, I imagined that some god had fallen on the pillars and that’s why they were broken. And I began to write.
Here is a short sample from the book:
The daggered truth stabbed her. She sucked in a sharp breath, which left little
room for words to defend herself. His apologetic eyes made it worse, like he was
being truthful though she wished he’d said it just to be ugly. She didn’t know how to
defend against the truth.
“I fail to see why you care,” she snarled. Her exposed weakness left her more
nervous about leading an army, and the bucket of white paint became so obvious
now and Japheron’s comment about it laid her entire self open, naked and ready for
Kaelin to dress her as he pleased.
“I care,” he said, lifting a finger as if he could shove the understanding into her
skull, “because you showed up to a war council in a dress.”
She laughed at the ridiculousness of his concern, but his eyes didn’t change.
“You’ve never had a dress in a war council, so I can see how it would appear
odd to you.”
He pressed his lips together, and Altarn wished the real concern she saw in his
expression wasn’t so earnest.
“You’ve never been to a war council, have you?”
“I don’t see how the proceedings are any different than a regular court session
where other problems with equal importance are discussed. I have been doing that
for a year.”
He exhaled and leaned back, crossing a boot over one knee. “It’s different for
Ruids. We discuss war plans every week because of our pirate problem. The mood
is different, the light in our eyes is different. It’s life and death we speak of, and that
holds a special kind of ceremony we honor in our speech, in our manners, and our
dress.”
“Why would my dress not honor this ceremony?”
“It might…except you look like a damn princess. I don’t know about Blindvar, but
we killed our princesses long ago. Your people don’t want a princess. They want a
war queen. A princess can’t handle the emotional responsibility of sending people off
to their deaths, but a war queen can.
“You’d be surprised how willing your soldiers would be to die for you, so long as
you did it without crying as they march away. They need to be reassured you’ll hold
your ground when they cannot.”
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