100 books like Gallant

I have always loved fairy tales, myths, and fantasy, having developed a vivid imagination during childhood because we lived far from friends. When I began studying French, I discovered a love for medieval legends such as Tristan et Yseult.  During trips to France, I explored troglodyte caves of the Loire Valley and prehistoric grottos, such as La Grotte de Lascaux. The more I researched legends and myths, the more my fantasy world of paranormal romance and shapeshifting warriors evolved.

I’ve been a nerd for the morbid for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, I tore through all the books on the shelves in my house, whether they were appropriate for my age group or not. I started tearing into Stephen King books at 8 or so. I remember vividly copying language out of Christine when I was about 10 on the playground and getting in a lot of trouble for it. But I turned out okay. I really do believe that kids have a fascination for things above their age range, and adults enjoy it, too, and I still love all of these.

I believe with all of my heart that each one of us was created with two achingly powerful inner drives: 1) the longing for new worlds and 2) the desperate urge to do something meaningful. I simply could never believe that human beings are all simply cosmic accidents produced by some sort of cosmic casino. I believe God created people and gave us each an instinct to seek our true home. The books I write—all 22 of them—are tales of flawed individuals, thrown into unexpected, life-changing events, and given the chance to journey through many astoundingly lush worlds, all in an effort to do the seemingly impossible.

I was a scared kid who loved spooky stories. I can still remember sitting on the couch, reading Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, mumbling the words aloud, both terrified and enthralled. I checked out every book in the library on Bigfoot, the Abominable Snowman, the Loch Ness Monster, werewolves, and vampires. I’ve hiked the Pacific Northwest, sailed Loch Ness, and chased a ghost light on a mountain. While I missed Bigfoot and Nessie, I caught the ghost. Now I write the kind of spooky monster mystery books I’ve loved for a lifetime.

Writing a protagonist who can't talk out loud is quite a challenge. I talk constantly as I'm both an extrovert and a public speaker for my day job, but I have had several bouts of severe laryngitis and have been under severe no speaking orders from the doctor. People react differently when you can't talk. Nowadays, we all have a convenient mobile device on hand to help, but that isn't always the case in the fantasy books we read. In Speechless in Achten Tan my main character Mila can't talk because magic took her voice. Her magic power is connected to her ability to speak, so she's pretty desperate to regain her ability to speak.

Writing a protagonist who can't talk out loud is quite a challenge. I talk constantly as I'm both an extrovert and a public speaker for my day job, but I have had several bouts of severe laryngitis and have been under severe no speaking orders from the doctor. People react differently when you can't talk. Nowadays, we all have a convenient mobile device on hand to help, but that isn't always the case in the fantasy books we read. In Speechless in Achten Tan my main character Mila can't talk because magic took her voice. Her magic power is connected to her ability to speak, so she's pretty desperate to regain her ability to speak.

Writing a protagonist who can't talk out loud is quite a challenge. I talk constantly as I'm both an extrovert and a public speaker for my day job, but I have had several bouts of severe laryngitis and have been under severe no speaking orders from the doctor. People react differently when you can't talk. Nowadays, we all have a convenient mobile device on hand to help, but that isn't always the case in the fantasy books we read. In Speechless in Achten Tan my main character Mila can't talk because magic took her voice. Her magic power is connected to her ability to speak, so she's pretty desperate to regain her ability to speak.

When I was five my dad had to carry me, crying, out of the Salem Witch’s Dungeon. You’d think that would put a damper on my love of spooky things, but it absolutely did not! Bela Lugosi was my first crush. I set up Haunted Houses in my garage and read every single book my local library had on the Salem Witch Trials. I made my way from Bunnicula and The Halloween Tree, to books by Stephen King and Anne Rice. Halloween and horror will always have a special place in my heart, and yet…I still don’t let my legs dangle off my bed, lest the monsters get me.

I came to genderqueer histories searching for a reflection of myself that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment (the rural American South). Early on, I thought I’d found it—historical figures, both real and fictional, who shared my gender identity. But as I’ve continued to research, I’ve realized that the reflections of history are less a mirror image, more a reflection in water—fluid and distorting. Genderqueer people throughout history use different language for their identities, navigate different social and family systems, and express their gender in different ways. In the space created by this difference, I’ve begun to understand my gender as a thing that changes, too, across space and time.

My fascination with crime fiction has come from reading about it. I have no idea how many novels I have read focused on baddies and the catching of them, but it’s numbering now in the many hundreds. I think the fact that a crime novel can incorporate elements of all other genres – horror, history, romance, the supernatural, etc. are what make them so appealing and add to the joy of writing them. Untangling the threads that make up a crime novel is very satisfying. Maybe in another reality, I would be a detective – I love that idea, but for now, in this bit of the multiverse, I’ll just carry on making them up.