This was the first fantasy recommendation I ever got from my dad. He saw me taking an interest in stories with castles, knights, wizards, and kings and knew just the book from his favorite author to put in my hands.

I hadn’t had any experience with Stephen King before this, and I found that his prose was friendly and familiar to me; the story itself is good, a solid entry into the genre, and I found the intrigues of the villain to be the most interesting part of the story. It turns out that the King (ha) of horror can write a fine fantasy story, too.

What if there was a computer program that reduced every single thing in the world down to a set of numbers? Sounds mathematically boring. But what if by changing one number you could suddenly be six feet tall? Or levitate? Martin Banks has, by spending far too much time on the internet, discovered that program. And made himself rich. Which gets the authorities snooping around and next thing you know he’s fleeing to the middle ages, where several other mathematical types have taken up residence. They know the secret of the program and have made themselves wizards. And Martin becomes a wizard in training to learn these skills. Which is all well and fine, until one wizard starts to turn evil. I am a geek. I admit it. And this send up of geek culture had the perfect geekish vibe for me.

In the kingdom of Illyria, boys are potential sorcerers while girls are only taught to keep house and don’t always learn to read. Marya has spent her whole life swallowing her anger at the unfairness of it, but after her parents blame her for spoiling her brother’s chances at becoming a sorcerer, she is sent to a remote school for troubled girls. There, as she and her classmates form tentative friendships, they question teachers and sorcerers and seek the truth in embroidered messages and folk songs. Marya proves herself to be braver and nobler than the revered sorcerers of Illyria. This staunchly feminist middle grade fantasy empowers young people to interrogate the narratives of the powerful and realize that there is nothing wrong with who they are.  

As an avid tabletop roleplay games player, Aldridge's latest book was a no-brainer to add to my own shelves. This great story explores found family, while following a group of young bards looking to make their mark in the world. Give this to any kid that likes music, fantasy, or just needs an idea to start their own band with their friends.

When I first read this book, I realized that the adventure Nita has—opening a book to enter a magical world of magic—was what I wanted every time I had collected my stack of books at the library.

Books are magical, of course, but this was real magic. I think I always hope that I’ll find a portal inside an old book. Still. Even as an adult, I’m looking for the entry into a magical reality.

As a fan of fantasy books about quests, I was familiar with Terry Brooks’ Shannara series.

Since I enjoyed his writing and his characters, I picked up this one on the assumption that it would be similar. Instead, I encountered a story about Ben Holiday, who purchased a magic kingdom from a fancy gift catalog and traveled to a new world where he became the ruler.

The characters appealed; especially Abernathy, the court scribe turned into a soft-coated, wheaten terrier by the wizard, Questor Thews.

Although a mature man, Ben’s trials upon obtaining the throne and adjusting to the magic of his new home support the theme of a hero’s coming-of-age story. With a few wrinkles and twists of magic, and a humorous overtone, I recommend this book as a nice change of pace from more serious fantasy tales.

This is part of a book series, and as soon as I plucked the first one off the shelf at the British Council Library, I was hooked. This was the first series of books I was able to start and finish since I gave birth. Having been such a voracious reader before, it was a relief to get back to it.

But the Prisoner of Azkaban held my heart because the boy who lived finally met someone who could be just his person. His grown up. And Sirius Black was just so cool. Magic counts as supernatural, right?

The hero of Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series, Harry Dresden, is a unique protagonist. I consistently find him to be a character that I can relate to.

As a wizard, he taps into unusual powers (do I do that? Hmm), which in itself is intriguing. But most of all he is a guy trying to do the right thing in a world full of wrong things and surrounded by people who consistently misunderstand what he’s doing.

Butcher creates a supernatural world that is both intriguing and scary. There are fairies who will charm you to death. There are sexy vampires whose real appearance you don’t want to see. And there is the council of wizards, whom Harry seems to rub the wrong way, with potentially fatal results.

The thing about a pet finding its way into your life at exactly the right time is that it does kind of feel like a divinity sent you a little helper to keep your life from completely falling apart while you are pretending to be a boy so you can become a knight or while you are on a writing deadline and very stressed out, which are two challenges that are equally difficult and noble.

I love the verve and charm of this story, told through a series of letters between two young Regency women who are best friends. Though the magical elements add mystery and keep the plot moving, I especially enjoyed experiencing the narrative through their correspondence with each other.

The letters add nuance to the characters, making me imagine that I am involved in the events of their lives—even though it takes days for the post to carry the letters to their destination. A side note that makes me love the book even more is the story of how it came to be: a fan met an author, and they collaborated to create this project.