The Books of Pellinor is a four book Young Adult fantasy series by Alison Croggon following the story of Maerad. An adolescent orphan who is unaware of her Gift, Maerad has an innate magical ability that some people are born with in Edil-Amarandh. She goes on a quest with a Bard named Cadvan. They travel throughout a late medieval-esque landscape making friends and defending bastions of the Light from an encroaching darkness. Eventually, Maerad and her brother, Hem, unite to defeat the Nameless One with an ancient, elemental music.

The very first time I read this series, I was immediately compelled to read it a second time. In fact, I read it aloud to my husband. All four books, back to back. Since then, I’ve returned a few times to just soak up the richness of Croggon’s world. Inside her books, you will find people who are complicated, frustratingly immature at times, argumentative, and fragile. You will fall in love with the way that Cadvan can be so obstinant and aloof, and then cave just long enough to share a vulnerable moment with his friends. And Maerad’s awkward, fierce love for music and family make her the sort of heroine you enjoy watching learn through her mistakes.

Another element that adds depth to this series is the sheer amount of detail Croggon accomplishes with her worldbuilding. Like all good fantasy series, Edil-Amarandh has a map. The reader follows Maerad and Cadvan to locations across every corner of that map, discovering that each region has its own cultural flavor, unique architectural style, and individual way of expressing artistry. There are rooms Maerad dines in, sleeps in, bathes in that I can still picture. And I truly wish I could sample the wines Bards generously share with their guests. Don’t even get me started on the food. All this to say, as a reader, I was transported to another world, a place that I wanted to visit again and again.

My biggest takeaway from Croggon’s masterpiece was what I discovered as a writer spending time in the world of a modern fantasy fiction author. I grew up reading Tolkien and Lewis. When I imagined the sort of book I wanted to hold in my hand as a published author, I measured it against their books. And, let’s be honest, that’s an unrealistic standard to judge yourself against. But reading The Books of Pellinor bridged that gap for me. Alison Croggon’s series illustrated that, when writing epic fantasy, one doesn’t have to be a master to produce something a reader can thoroughly enjoy. Telling stories people want to read is the whole point.

I’m deeply grateful for a lesson learned, and a heart-stirring series to add to my bookshelves. Now I can return to them whenever I need to read about how restorative a good, hot bath can be.