Friendship…is born at the moment when one man says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…’ C.S. Lewis
You know that moment when after thinking for so long you were alone in your pursuits, dreams, and ideals you must be crazy, only to realise you’re not the only one; that there are others like you who desire to see the same ideals actualised into reality?
That happened to me this past weekend.
Two months ago, I sat in on a class about modern Jewish Literature, specifically Fantasy and Science Fiction, at my local JCC. Essentially, the presenter — Rose Lemberg, a Jewish fantasy writer herself — was sharing her thoughts regarding a 2010 article titled, Why There is No Jewish Narnia, and how Michael Weingrad gets is wrong.
In summation, while in the past there were (and still are) many Jewish authors, agents, publishers, etc. in the literary world who were not using their Jewish identities and voices to write or publish breathtaking fantasy or science fiction, the horizon is changing. In the past year, partially thanks to the #ownvoices movement, Jewish authors and their yiddishkeit are getting recognition in the SFF genre.
For the past year, as I’ve tried to read more of the current releases on shelves, to study the current literary market, I’ve noticed this trend myself. I noticed how a handful of the fantasy novels/series I’ve read were either written by Jewish authors with Jewish themes or just straight up, unapologetically, authentically Jewish worlds, characters, stories, etc.
Some of these authors and their novels I’ve discussed here:
- Naomi Novik’s Spinning Silver
- Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni
- Marie Brennan’s The Memoirs of Lady Trent series
Sitting in that class, I felt exceedingly encouraged because not only was I not the only person noticing this trend, but there was a whole mini-community of Jewish fantasy authors in the literary world wanting to create and write Jewish stories about Jewish characters in Jewish fantastical worlds.
Just. like. me.
Additionally, Rose talked about how Jewish tradition and Midrash is vibrantly rich with fantastical elements which can easily be utilised to write and create Jewish fantastical worlds and stories — the exact reason I used Jewish mythology as the foundation for my mythopoeia.
Then over this past weekend, this same author co-hosted a symposium with KU’s Jewish Studies department (where she’s also a professor) appropriately called, Writing Jewish (which may have inspired the title of this post).
One of the guest speakers was Rena Rossner, an author who just released her debut novel, The Sisters of the Winter Wood, which literally hit shelves last month. (While I’ll save gushing about this novel for one of my “What’s on My Shelf” posts, I will say I couldn’t get my hands on this book fast enough.)
Rena, too, echoed Rose’s thoughts about Jewish fantasy; how the sacred and traditional texts are full of story after story of the inexplicable and fantastical, how she used this as basis for her own novel.
I also had the esteemed privilege of meeting this amazing, pioneering woman after she spoke, and she even signed my copy of her book!
Throughout both these experiences, I sat there dumbfounded, flabbergasted, verklempt.
Here I was among these stalwart women of literary prowess, and they were encouraging little me who has never done any professional writing in her life to go forth in my dreams of publishing a Jewish fantasy novel series simply because I can.
Even now, I still feel at a loss to describe the great honour it is for me to have found fellow aspiring and published authors like myself, especially when I feel unworthy to follow in their huge, trail-blazing footsteps.
My journey of writing, trying to make it a career, etc. has been a rather long and arduous one, I think like most in this field. Most days I think I’m crazy to attempt this. “I should just get married and start a family,” I say to myself. “No one can achieve this.”
And yet, they have. And they tell me I could.
It’s meshugge.
Only…why else would I have grown up fascinated with stories, with mythologies, with the mystical, the ineffable, the mysterious? Why else would I have read countless of stories in my youth, dreaming of far away lands and fantastical creatures and the people who live in such places, wishing myself amongst them?
Why else did Hashem make me this way except to serve as some purpose, some vessel for His greater plan? After all, He is the Master Potter; I am merely the clay.
Regardless of whatever doubts I may be battling in myself, finding and meeting fellow writers with similar aspirations encourages me to continue my work, no matter how ludicrous.