I woke up in a body that wasn’t mine, in a stone room that smelled like tallow candles, and the first thought I had was a page number. Page twelve. That’s where Ivy dies in The Thornwaite Curse, a…
I fell asleep on a Sunday night reading the worst fantasy novel I have ever loved, a five-hundred-page paperback called The Thornwaite Curse that I bought used for two dollars because the cover had a sword on it. I woke up as Ivy, a nameless maid who gets exactly one paragraph in the entire book, … Read more