Writers Who Inspire Us: How Leigh Bardugo Taught Me to Love My Book
Made up worlds, big enough to fit a whole Earth’s worth of characters (often more), contained in carefully written pages. For those very reasons, my reading has had a slant towards the fantasy genre since I was young. Growing older, I expanded my palate—both a grand and terrible idea in turn, depending on the book I picked up. But I always seem to find my way back to the magnificent otherness of fantasy. That is how I found my way back to Leigh Bardugo.
Shadow and Bone was one of those trilogies that became my entire personality in high school. Then, I still thought of stories on their own, without considering the author much at all. I could recall names on the entire map of the Grishaverse, but heaven forbid I had to name the author. I just didn’t have the presence of mind yet to understand how or what authors put into their works, how these entire stories and substories sprouted from their brain and wove into the hundreds-page thing between my hands.
Though I had to be reminded several times of Bardugo’s name, that trilogy had me by the throat. It was a darker kind of fantasy I hadn’t experienced before, with a Slavic flair that, as a girl with Polish roots, I had never read in mainstream fiction. I was obsessed with the words and names, touched by Eastern accent that reminded me of my mother and her family. Grisha, kefta, corporalki, Ravka. Not only that, it introduced me to the possibility of a world where people weren’t wholly good or bad, that those words could be complex. It’s like Bardugo’s characters crept into my mind—the Darkling smiling and asking me if he was the villain. Technically, yes…unless…hmm…But it wasn’t until after I graduated college that I saw Bardugo, the author, on her own for who she truly is: a master of worlds and words, and one of the realest storytellers I’ve had the pleasure to read.
No one really tells you how difficult those months after college can be. You try to root yourself in what you think you should do rather than what you dream to do. For me, that was forcing myself to read books which “academia” said were good, to write in a way that met the “grown-up” standards of journalism and blah-blah-blah. I wasn’t reading my darling fantasy series’, and because of that, was wholly bored out of my mind. I had a degree in creative writing, was crafting a book based in fantasy and folklore, and drawing from a sandpaper dry imagination. That is, until Leigh Bardugo made her visit again.
I believe wholeheartedly that artists come into your life when you need them the most. It goes as much for fine artists and musicians as it does for writers. Such is the case with Bardugo’s Six of Crows. Thankfully, I read differently now than I did in high school, attributing mostly to an education devoted to analyzing why and how writers write what they do. So this time I picked up a Bardugo book, I saw the world and noticed the characters. But I also saw her. Tucked into the detailed maps of Ketterdam, into each of the unique points of view of the Crows, and riddled throughout the heist plot. I could hear laughter as I tried theorizing what would happen, only for the characters to flip and fly like wild flames, turning the story in diagonal directions I’d never guessed. An unbelievable level of detail and care laced into a rich world of darkness and dreams.
While reading this series I not only met six brilliant characters and was pushed into their world of mischief and danger, I also had Bardugo’s hand to hold—one writer guiding another. I learned what it means to create a world and to fill it with interesting people, how difficult it is to make these people so gloriously different and to give them good in hearts and intentions, despite being bad in general actions. Holding the book in my hands I constantly thought: this is an actual thing I am holding. Nearly six hundred physical pages, and one person wrote it all. No way that should be possible, and yet it was right there between my hands.
Like many authors, Bardugo is decently active on social media (when she’s not writing), and I’ve been re-visiting some of her old Instagram posts along my writing journey. One author seeking solace and mentorship from another. A post in particular struck me greatly, featuring a picture from when she’d first started writing Shadow and Bone, next to one of her on the set of its Netflix adaptation. She writes “I still have difficult days. Maybe you do too. All I can offer is that we never know what may be waiting a little way down the road, what magic may be in store if we can just keep going. Love you. Let's go to Ravka.” Following that post is a video of her meeting the actors portraying the characters she gave life to, weeping with joy as she embraces them and as I, miles away behind a phone screen, shed my own happy tears. It’s rare to see an author who is just as big of a fan of what they’ve written as their readers are. And I realized, through her, that is exactly who I want to be for my own book.
Because of Leigh Bardugo, I open my work in progress and try something new. I write from the other character’s perspective, determining if they believe what they're doing is the right thing, and what that means for the protagonist. I dig at the details, and ask all the questions, seeking the answers far from expected. I tend to my world, the one that I’m creating with my own mind and hands, and I am not afraid that it’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before. In fact, I am obsessed with that.
About Carly Lewis
Carly is a visual and written storyteller residing in her hometown of Richmond, Virginia. A graduate of Hollins University's creative writing and film programs, she tries to find a meeting place in the middle of those two subjects, creating a specific atmosphere or a surreal, different world entirely in her pieces. She is also an avid music enthusiast with a taste for artists who break the rules, and has even written about them in Spindle Magazine, and LARB's Publishing Workshop journal, PubLab. Connect with her on Instagram and Twitter at @carlyisclary.
