[ SECRET POST #2197 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2197 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 048 secrets from Secret Submission Post #314.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Like who?

There aren't a lot of fantasy series where the protagonist actually wants to be in a fantasy series, instead of the typical angsty "I just want to be normal" kind of thing. If you know any others, I'd really like some recs.

[thene]

Double Vision and Sound Mind by Tricia Sullivan have a bit of that going on - the main character is a sci-fi fangirl who thinks she can see other worlds in her TV set.

[(Anonymous)]

DA but The Cream of the Jest by James Branch Cabell has a lot of that going on. Not exactly a series or an adventure story but still worth reading.

'As he considered the future, in the man's face showed only puzzled lassitude; and you saw therein a quaint resemblance to Maugis d'Aigremont. "I find my country an inadequate place in which to live," says Horvendile. "Oh, many persons live there happily enough! or, at worst, they seem to find the prizes and the applause of my country worth striving for whole-heartedly. But there is that in some of us which gets no exercise there; and we struggle blindly, with impotent yearning, to gain outlet for great powers which we know that we possess, even though we do not know their names. And so, we dreamers wander at adventure to Storisende--oh, and into more perilous realms sometimes!--in search of a life that will find employment for every faculty we have. For life in my country does not engross us utterly. We dreamers waste there at loose ends, waste futilely. All which we can ever see and hear and touch there, we dreamers dimly know, is at best but a portion of the truth, and is possibly not true al all . Oh, yes! it may be that we are not sane; could we be sure of that, it would be a comfort. But, as it is, we dreamers only know that life in my country does not content us, and never can content us. So we struggle, for a tiny dear-bought while, into other and fairer-seeming lands in search of--we know not what! And, after a litle"--he relinquished the maiden's hands, spread out his own hands, shrugging--" after a little, we must go back into my country and live there as best we may."'