Often, when I want to write about something new, I need an idea to spark the imagination, and then it runs wild. One day, I sat pondering, filtering through my database of a brain that is full of usually useless knowledge, when the concept of the celestial spheres came to mind. I had heard of it vaguely in science class as a kid, but also recalled Shakespeare's use of the music of the spheres and that got me thinking about how the classical and Renaissance views of the heavens and solar system were drastically different from our own. I looked up the celestial spheres and bam! The elemental planets could open up a world of possibilities, literally. From there, the sphere Fyr was born, and my imagination took off, creating a world of strife, intrigue, and courtly schemes--think PG-13 GOT with love and magic lightening it up.

As a child, I was fascinated by genealogy and heritage. My ancestors were pretty easy to trace, most of them immigrating in the late 1800s--well, my paternal side. My maternal side is a bit tricky, but the one thing that we were sure of was my great-grandfather was from Greece. I felt this connection to Greek things from a man I had never met. To me, Ancient Greece was this amazing place of learning, stoicism, and moderation. Greek Mythology always stuck with me, and I had read all of the classical texts throughout my education.

Then one day after failing to finish my first attempt at a novel, I decided I needed a writing prompt. I opened one of my mythology books for inspiration and flipped through the love stories. The Cupid and Psyche myth stuck out, so I decided to write a few pages, thinking I would reimagine the myth. However, after 6 pages, I realized what had come out was a reinvention of the gods in the present, living new storylines that echo their pasts, with that human quality and fallibility the Greeks instilled into their gods.

I married a Welshman. After years of marriage, obviously, my myth and folklore obsessions carried over into studying my husband's cultural texts. Previously, I had recycled a shelved story that I rewrote so many times--at 12, 17, 30, and now 40--but it had always been missing something. That something was the understanding of the dark trickery of the fairy folk. As I embark on this last revision, I expect these to be my darker tales of human struggle, sacrifice, and faeries with a nasty streak.