The brownies are on strike. A dragon is running for the State House of Representatives. And hipsters of all species want to live in the Fairy District.
This is the story of cryptids and humans living in the same world, one where it's not as obvious as you might think to figure out who around you is a monster.
The brownies are on strike. A dragon is running for the State House of Representatives. And hipsters of all species want to live in the Fairy District.
This is the story of cryptids and humans living in the same world, one where it's not as obvious as you might think to figure out who around you is a monster.
It must have been a full moon last Saturday because I ran into a werewolf at the night market. He was at one of the produce booths, a bag of arugula hanging from his right foreclaw and a head of romaine in his left palm. He was comparing the greens as though his paws were scales.
“Which one would you buy?” he asked as I perused the swiss chard, drawn in by the sunset colors of the stalks. He shook his shaggy head and growled, “I don’t know what I’m doing. The doctor says my cholesterol’s high, that I should eat more vegetables. He didn’t mention how many damned kinds there are.”
I told him I preferred arugula’s peppery flavor but romaine was more versatile. The werewolf thanked me for my advice and tossed both options in his basket. I saw him once more on my way out. He was glaring at the display of a local orchard, where a dozen apple varieties vied for his attention.
“But what’s the difference,” he was asking, “between a Pink Lady and a Honeycrisp?”
The boy working the booth encouraged him to give one a try. The werewolf picked out the reddest fruit on the table and took an experimental bite.
If you’re puzzling over the title of this rib-tickling, lip-smacking urban fantasy by Jess Simms, here’s the scoop: A “cryptid” is an animal whose existence or survival is disputed or unsubstantiated, such as the yeti. Or in the case of Cryptid Bits, it could also be a werewolf, a vampire, or a chupacabra. A dragon running for the State House of Representatives. The Gorgon Sisters Hair Salon. Or maybe brownies who are on strike for better working conditions in the hospitality industry.
All of these and more show up in Fairy District, the setting for this delightfully fresh and original story. As readers join the narrator for a whirlwind tour of this fair (?) land, they’ll want to buckle up for an eclectic blend of adventure, travelogue, history, music, politics, pop culture and magic. It’s a highly readable and eminently entertaining collection of “around town” stories, observations, events, interviews, ratings, and um… creatures.
You may even find yourself swaying to the crypt metal rhythms of Banshee and the Siouxsies or sampling some homemade goodies at the BAKEAid Festival (proceeds go to assist striking brownies). There’s also sweetbread and haggis. Besides. Cryptid Bits showcases some of the best world-building talent I’ve seen in years, haggis notwithstanding.
Cryptid Bits isn’t a fantasy in the traditional sense, which concentrates on imaginary elements (the fantastic) and may include magic, the supernatural, alternate worlds, superheroes, monsters, fairies, magical creatures, mythological heroes—essentially, anything that an author can imagine outside of reality. Much of that appears in this light and luscious read. But it also offers up side-splitting parodies of current events, pop culture, and politics, to name a few.
Smart and sassy, Cryptid Bits is an eclectic blend of faerie fiction, tongue-in-cheek humor and wry wit. Told with a twinkle, the story is warm, whimsical, and all heart. Example: The dragon’s opponent in his bid for the state house is “George Saint.” Hilarious!
Fans of Harry Potter and/or Percy Jackson will enjoy Cryptid Bits. You may laugh so hard in places, you’ll snort lemonade out your nose (don’t ask how I know that).
So if you want to take a load off and lighten up, then grab a copy of Cryptid Bits. Pour yourself a cuppa. Pull up a chair. Sit down. Put your feet up. Dive into this book. It’s a “Calgon take me away” moment that’ll warm up your funny bone and smooth out those laugh lines. I loved it (except for the haggis)!
My Rating: 4.5.