Ín Íntroðim

Gentle Reader:

It is perhaps appropriate that I give you a fair warning: my early writing is not, as they say, the shiznit. Hemingway would look upon it disparagingly; Salinger would scurry off and hide at its mere mention; Joyce would probably love it and place it upon a mantle next to his mother's ashes' urn and a pair of clay gorgons.

I wrote almost all of The Prophet Mouse while still in high school, and apart from correcting some typographical errors, I have not since given thought to its content. You might want to look at it as a snapshot of pre-greatness, frozen Pompeii-like for all time. A hundred years from now, when (I have no doubt) my writing will be required reading in universities and lycées throughout the world, The Prophet Mouse will be used as a sterling example of how not to write. I am not proud of this early writing, but I am quite fond of the story it tells.

The story of The Prophet Mouse is about fear. Litam, the protagonist, is afraid of what happens to his home; he is afraid of the burdens placed upon him by others; he is afraid of what he must do to carry their weight. Lanyur, a fellow mouse, has no fear: she is strengthened by her faith, her abilities, and her friends. Briole in particular bonds with Lanyur, and fears for her when she faces great dangers.

There are elements of the epic hero cycle here: the quest the travellers undertake, the shadow-world called Kelprire, and the climactic loss to a dangerous and foul enemy. These are hardly unique ideas, as J. K. Rowling will no doubt tell you. But many of the great works of English literature are, in fact, retellings of the same epic hero cycle—I am far from alone in my use of it.

The story of The Ethereal Victor also derives from the epic hero cycle, but it (and The Realm's Window, the third book I will someday write) is intended as a parallel to the Prose Edda, the great work of Norse mythology. While The Prophet Mouse uses the cycle to deal with fear, The Ethereal Victor instead uses it to deal with loss. Pell loses her home and her Wickeress; other characters lose other things too, but I do not wish to disclose them to you prematurely.

I do, however, wish for you to read and enjoy the first chapter of The Prophet Mouse, entitled (oddly enough) Pretario Beans. I intend to post new chapters here as time permits—hopefully one each week—and I hope you'll come read them and enjoy them too.

Der moda ov Súxé Ne-yead nala.

— Jonathan Grynspan

A final note, for the critical eye: I have modified the orthography of the Tsesial language to better reflect how it might actually be written. The orthography found in the printed version of The Prophet Mouse stems from Microsoft Word X's inability to display Unicode characters. Thus, the accented characters used in written Tsesial were unavailable. I regret any confusion that may result.