Buddhist philosophy meets High fantasy in a fresh and imaginative world. Perfect for fans of Hayao Miyazaki and Ursula K. Leguin.
This house is also a cloud, for without the cloud there could be no rain and without the rain our forests and crops would wither and bow back into the dirt. Without the crops, our woodsmen wouldn’t have the strength to work and without the forests it wouldn’t make much of a difference even if they did. Without the lumber hewn by the woodsmen, there would be no materials with which to construct the house. You may think you get the picture, but hold on to your hay bales because here comes the kicker: the house is also you and you are also me and we are the earth, the sun, the moon, the waters, a stick, a stone, a single breath, a mountain, a mouse, a tear, a death, the raven’s caw, a wick and a flame, a song, a lie, a kiss. We are the last league of the road. And the first.
THE GIRL WHO WOKE THE MOON
I am you and you are me. Repeat it like a mantra. Give it breath and make it true.
Idealistic, I know, and maybe just a little too dear. Oneness has always been difficult to picture. Not like division. Division is everywhere. It’s the lines we draw on maps where nature never intended—borders made manifest by stubborn, imperfect will. It’s the otherness we impose across the great cultural divide. The names we give our sons and daughters and deny our closest neighbors. It’s the literal gorge that yawns across the spine of the world, a forbidding monument to our forgotten unity.
How am I supposed to fix that? It isn’t fair.
New & Upcoming Releases
The Girl Who Woke The Moon
Coming September 9, 2026
If you were promised to a goddess at birth, would you embrace your divine responsibilities or resent them? Would you commit yourself to promises made before you took your first breath, or would you rebel and endeavor to forge your own path? Stillborn on a moonless night, Oraluna gets a second chance at life when her mother, Gita, promises her to the moon goddess, Haiyan. Haiyan answers Gita’s prayers, but her intervention doesn’t come without a price.
Ora is born into a broken world watched over by a shattered god. The monks of the Order of Haiyan have made it their life’s work to uncover the path back to unification, but none of their efforts bore fruit until Ora. The order covets her jealously, seeking to confine her to a life of contemplation and spiritual activism. They fail to account for her mother, whose own descent into debauchery threatens to mire Ora in worldly attachments and drag her off the Unified Path.
Of course, no one ever bothers to ask Ora what she wants. She’s a goddess in a young girl’s body. Or the other way around. It isn’t entirely clear. More than anything, she’s a girl in conflict with herself, caught between a loving mother and a respected mentor—between her goddess-nature as an incarnation of Haiyan, and her Ora-nature as a lonely girl just trying to grow up.
You have a responsibility, the monks insist. Only you can fix the Shattered World.
Is that all? It’s a lot of pressure for one moony eyed girl.
