Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, and Other Speculative Fiction
Music is kind of like an alien tractor beam: it transports you. Coincidentally, so can dragons, if you have the skill to fly with them.
We’re closing out Dragon Week 5eva: Aliens Vs. Dragons with this rockin’ playlist of alien and dragon music that’s cosmic fire.
Check it out!
John Scalzi has an almost endless amount of accomplishments under his belt. A Hugo Award winner. A New York Times bestseller (most recently of The Kaiju Preservation Society, now out in paperback). Critic-at-large for the Los Angeles Times. But we’re here to utilize possibly his most important skill of all: burrito expert extraordinaire. For Dragon Week 4: Dragons 4Ever, John weighs in on what burrito he, personally, would feed a dragon. Check out his answer below!
By John Scalzi
As an internationally renowned expert on burritos, I have been asked by the folks at Tor to essay perhaps the most important question of this or any other time in our shared cultural history:
What Burrito Would You Feed a Dragon?
And the answer is: Well, obviously, it would depend. Dragons come in all shapes and sizes and personal proclivities. It’s time to acknowledge that, just like people, they will have their own idiosyncratic tastes and preferences. Let me take five examples of dragons from history and literature and song, and suggest some possible burrito pairings.
Mushu is small enough that he is confused for a lizard, and is easily stompable by a horse, so his caloric needs are actually fairly low on a day-to-day basis. All evidence seems to indicate that he’s both omnivorous and opportunistic in his diet, which is to say, he’ll have whatever you’re having. The burrito I would feed Mushu is a quarter of whatever burrito I ordered that day, because that’s about what he could handle, and then I would still have three-quarters of a burrito. Which, as long as the basket of tortilla chips at the table keeps getting refilled, would be enough for me too.
For those unfamiliar with this story, the legend is that a dragon demanded tribute from a small village, and once it ate through all the livestock, an agreement was reached where the village would provide a human a year, which was fine until that human was a princess. Then St. George got involved and killed the dragon, but hopefully not before the dragon said “Wow, you only got involved when a princess was on the line, really, classist much?”
That said, this painting above, by 15th century painter Paolo Uccello, seems to be telling an entirely different story, which is that a princess was out walking her pet dragon in the garden when all of a sudden a knight burst in and poked the poor dragon in the eye, to the mild annoyance of the princess, who is all, like, “Really, George, what’s the actual problem, can’t you see he’s on a friggin’ leash.”
In the traditional version of the story, the dragon actually preferred livestock and only ate humans when there were no other menu options, so a nice big carne asada or barbacoa burrito would be fine, and just keep ‘em coming. In the new revisionist version based on the painting, I would fill that burrito with ibuprofen, and arrest George for trespassing and cruelty to animals.
In the 1977 film, Elliot is a dragon who rescues a small boy sold into a life of indentured servitude and deposits him with a family which breaks out into song for no apparent reason, so, really, pick your poison here. Like Mushu, the other Disney dragon in this list, Elliot appears to be omnivorous, but in the film local fishermen complain about their daily catch disappearing mysteriously, the cause of which is Elliot, who can be invisible at will, sneaking fish when they can’t see him.
That being the case, despite the film taking place in early 1900s Maine, where everything was boiled and spices were what happened to other people, I believe Elliot is a prime candidate for a bit of fusion food, and would recommend a very large sushi burrito, with a large seaweed wrap filled with rice, fish, and of course the local Maine delicacy of lobster.
All the previous dragons on this list have been more or less human-scale, but Smaug is the first one which is truly huge; in the Hobbit films, the fire-drake would have been more than 130 meters or or nearly 430 feet long. This brings up all sorts of questions, not only about the questionable physics of such a large creature being able to breathe, much less, you know, fly, but also about such a large creature’s necessary daily caloric intake, which would be substantial, and how one would construct a burrito for a creature that large. Creating the tortilla alone would be a substantial logistical undertaking — a task that certainly the master craftsmen among the Dwarves of Erebor could have managed, if they had been on more friendly terms with Smaug, which, alas, they were not.
Now, true Tolkien nerds scholars will tell me that the Dragons of Middle-Earth were magical, created by Morgoth as war-beasts, most notably in the War of the Jewels during the First Age, and as such, they are not necessarily bound by the laws of physics or nutrition. Which is a good thing, since the text of The Hobbit does not offer much insight into the diet of Smaug, other than the fact he’ll eat humans, dwarves and ponies from time to time, but that as much out of spite than out of any particular need. He’ll eat you if you annoy him (and you will annoy him), but he doesn’t have to eat you.
But we also know that Smaug is erudite, cultured and appreciates the finer things in life; in the movies he’s voiced by Benedict Cumberbach, after all. So allow me to suggest a haute cuisine burrito for him. The filling hardly matters — sure, fill it with flame-broiled dwarves and humans, they’re around — but once they’re stuffed into that very large tortilla, let’s take a little bit of Smaug’s horde and make an edible gold foil to wrap the whole burrito in. Gold is incredibly ductile — you can hammer the element to just a fraction of a micron thick — so Smaug’s fortune would not be materially affected. It’ll be a tasty and shiny burrito made of his enemies, and I think that will please Smaug to no end.
A 3am gas station microwave burrito, because, come on, this dragon is fully baked. Peter Paul and Mary will tell you the song is not about that, but clearly no one told the animators of the 70s TV special. They knew otherwise. They all knew otherwise. And so do we.
JOHN SCALZI is one of the most popular SF authors of his generation. His debut Old Man’s War won him the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. His New York Times bestsellers include The Last Colony, Fuzzy Nation, and Redshirts (which won the 2013 Hugo Award for Best Novel), and 2020’s The Last Emperox. Material from his blog, Whatever, has also earned him two other Hugo Awards. Scalzi also serves as critic-at-large for the Los Angeles Times. He lives in Ohio with his wife and daughter.
How many times has this happened to you: It’s a normal day, and then—WHAM, dragons attack?
Hey, don’t worry. Happens to us all. That’s why we developed this quiz to assess your chances of survival in the face of aggro’d dragons. Good luck!
We. Love. Dragons. We’re all about dragons. At any given moment, we’ve got dragons on our mind, and often, dragons in our books! In celebration of Dragon Week 4: Dragons 4ever, we’ve compiled a list of every book we’re releasing this year within whose pages you might encounter a dragon.
Check out this epic list of flying fantasy lizards!
by Jenn LyonsThe Discord of Gods marks the epic conclusion to Jenn Lyons’s Chorus of Dragons series, closing out the saga that began with The Ruin of Kings, for fans of Brandon Sanderson and Patrick Rothfuss.
by Kevin J. AndersonCo-author of the Dune sequels, Kevin J. Anderson’s Gods and Dragons marks his triumphant return to epic fantasy, featuring a politically charged adventure of swords, sorcery, vengeance, and the awakening of sleeping giants.
by Elizabeth BearHugo Award-winning author Elizabeth Bear concludes her highly-acclaimed epic fantasy trilogy, The Lotus Kingdoms, which began with The Stone in the Skull and The Red-Stained Wings. It all comes to a surprising, satisfying climax in The Origin of Storms!
by A. K. LarkwoodThe sequel to A. K. Larkwood’s stunning debut fantasy, The Unspoken Name. The Thousand Eyes continues The Serpent Gates series—perfect for fans of Jenn Lyons, Joe Abercrombie, and Ursula K. Le Guin.
Origins of The Wheel of Time by Michael Livingston; foreword by Harriet McDougalExplore never-before-seen insights into the Wheel of Time, including:
A brand-new, redrawn world map by Ellisa Mitchell using change requests discovered in Robert Jordan’s unpublished notes
An alternate scene from an early draft of The Eye of the World
The long-awaited backstory of Nakomi
8 page, full color photo insert
by John ScalziThe Kaiju Preservation Society is John Scalzi’s first standalone adventure since the conclusion of his New York Times bestselling Interdependency trilogy.
by Kel KadeDestiny of the Dead is the second novel in a genre-bending series from New York Times bestselling author Kel Kade.
While the wealthy and powerful, the kings and queens, abandon the dying world, one group of misfits says no more. Through dogged determination and the ability to bind souls to their dead bodies, Aaslo and his friends fight on.
by Tracy Hickman and Richard GarriottFantasy great Tracy Hickman teams up with the video game legend Richard Garriott in this epic novel The Eye of Scales, based on the award-winning game, Shroud of the Avatar.
by Jason DenzelIn this epic conclusion to Jason Denzel’s The Mystic Trilogy, which spans decades and timeless realms and dreams, Pomella must confront her greatest and most personal challenge yet. For the Deep mysteries of the world will reveal themselves only to the most powerful and dedicated of Mystics.
, edited by George R. R. MartinIn hardcover for the first time, Full House brings together the Wild Cards stories that have been previously published on Tor.com.
We’ve kicked off our fourth year of all things dragon, but how could we celebrate without looking at some of our favorite articles and round-ups from the past few years? Check out some of our most memorable pieces below and let us know which is your fav!
A million years ago in 2019, we pit sharks against dragons and kicked off an eternal conflict that has since only evolved. Check out these matchups of dragons vs. sharks from Dragon Week: TOKYO DRIFT!
Dragons have style! You know this. I know this. And the contributors to this rundown of select epic dragon theme music definitely know it. Check it out!
Even as we celebrate dragons, we know encountering them in the wild can be dangerous! So we chatted with the experts. People who have spent their whole lives reading about dragons and talking the talk. That’s right. We asked ourselves. Here’s our expert advice on surviving.
Today, Blood of an Exile author Brian Naslund joins us to talk dragonslayers. Some are heroes. Some are villains. Some of them should LEAVE THOSE DRAGONS ALONE.
What better way to get into a dragon-like mood than with an EPIC PLAYLIST?!?!? We’ve compiled some of our absolute favorite dragon-inspired tunes and artists so you can vibe with the chaotic energy. You can listen to this in order (GOLD, GOLD, GOLD) or put in on shuffle for maximum mayhem.
What is the fastest way to a new friend’s heart? Food, duh! Brian Naslund, author of Blood of an Exile and Sorcery of a Queen, is ready to help you win a new dragon BFF with some instructions for some spicy treats. Check out his dragon-friendly(?) dishes below!
We at Tor are SO excited to bring you Dragon Week 4! You heard us right: 4 consecutive years of dragons! And looks like we’re good for many more, because last year you voted on our Special Dragon Week title, so here we are! Dragons 4ever! Check out our roundup below for all the dragon fun we’ll be sinking our fangs into this week.
Welcome to Dragon Week 2020, a celebration of all things Dragon!
During last year’s inaugural Dragon Week, we sparked a grand debate by dying on the hill that Godzilla is a Dragon. We’ll be staying on that hill, but we asked some of our authors—IS Godzilla a Dragon? And what traits really make a Dragon a Dragon? Check out their answers here!
Brian Naslund, author of Sorcery of a Queen Is Godzilla a Dragon?
My initial instinct was to say no, figuring that aquatic beasts who symbolize nuclear proliferation (and other human vices) really belong in their own category of creature, given all the layers at work. But there are no easy answers here. Ultimately, if Godzilla feels like a dragon, then Godzilla’s a dragon in my book.
What makes a Dragon a Dragon?
I’ve been following the “what makes a dragon?” debate with great interest for the last year. While I was originally tempted to adhere to a more stringent definition of a dragon, I’ve ultimately come to believe that being a dragon isn’t about scales, anatomy, or size. It’s about the level of “dragon-ness” that resides in your heart, on either a permanent or temporary basis.
I, for one, believe that we all have the capacity to be dragons at some point in our lives. I often start each day in the form of a Morning Dragon (i.e. filled with wrath, hunger, and a burning desire to consume both coffee and the bones of my enemies).
Marie Brennan, author of A Natural History of DragonsIs Godzilla a Dragon?
Excellent question! I feel like he’s not a very *good* dragon — the proportions of his body and his bipedal posture just don’t ring right for me — but reptilian, breathes something dangerous, sure, I can see it if I squint.
What makes a Dragon a Dragon?
I think a generally serpentine body shape is the key starting point for me, and scales more often than not. I like dragons with wings, but obviously not all things we class as dragons have those. And they need to be extraordinary in some fashion; they need to be able to do something ordinary, non-draconic creatures can’t.
Ryan Van Loan, author of The Sin in the SteelIs Godzilla a Dragon? And what makes a Dragon a Dragon?
Godzilla isn’t a dragon (although I love Godzilla movies! Especially the ones where Godzilla is awoken/discovered and bad things happen). Dragons have wings (vestigial or practical), scales that are not easily penetrable, are capable of producing some sort of stream that is bad news for any who come in contact with it (e.g., fire, ice, poison), and often, but not always are given to hoarding. Essentially, dragons have more in common with avian species while Godzilla to my mind is more reptilian?
Kevin J. Anderson, author of Spine of the DragonIs Godzilla a Dragon?
The original instigator of the Godzilla argument, Kevin J. Anderson, wrote us a WHOLE ARTICLE arguing about what makes a Dragon a Dragon, and he stands by his stance that Godzilla makes the cut. Check out his Dragon Week 2020 article here, and his deadliest dragons piece from last year here!
Jenn Lyons, author of The Ruin of KingsOh. ITSTHISAGAIN.
Really, we’re doing this? Is Godzilla a dragon?
Okay, fine. We’re doing this.
But first, we need to talk about definitions, because like many things, the answer is ‘no.’
And also ‘yes.’
Let me explain:
From a taxonomy perspective, wherein a dragon has a very distinct set of qualities depending on the cultural origins of the mythologies involved, at best his qualifications are deeply suspect. He has no wings. He isn’t serpent-like. He isn’t associated with rivers or lakes. He hoards nothing. (Of all of these, the ‘isn’t serpent-like’ is probably the most damning.) Can the argument be made that he’s reptilian? Sure. Is that enough to qualify him for dragon status?
In my opinion, no.
But that isn’t the only definition of dragon, is it? The problem with definitions come into play when we consider the social, cultural, and mythological reasons why dragons exist. In most of the west, dragons are typically forces of evil, the worst elements of human nature made flesh, the embodiment of our sins. And by many eastern traditions, dragons aren’t evil at all, but rather forces of nature, outside of human control. Dragons make the world a little easier to understand, even if it’s just condensing the world’s anxieties and fears into a more relatable, approachable avatar.
So. What if the ‘sin’ of humanity and the force of nature outside of our ability to control is, in both cases, the splitting of the atom?
Then he very much meets the definition of dragon, doesn’t he? Because from that definition, what he looks like, what form he takes, doesn’t actually matter. What’s important is that he’s a chimeric avatar of our hubris, a stark rebuttal to our beliefs that we can or have any right to meddle with these forces. If we want to play god, we must be prepared to create our own devils. And yet, any defeat of Godzilla is temporary. Slaying this dragon never works, because he is outside of our ability to control. We can only pacify and mitigate or, in later stories, entreat for help.
So there you have it. My definitive answer on whether or not Godzilla is a dragon: kindasortamaybe. From a certain point of view.
One thing that cannot be debated? Much like most more traditional dragons, nobody wants him (or her, depending on your Godzilla movie preferences) visiting their town.
Hope that helps and GO GO GODZILLA.
Kate Elliott, author of Unconquerable SunIs Godzilla a Dragon?
Godzilla is a kaiju. So my answer would be to ask if a dragon is a kaiju.
Written by Marie Brennan
It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I’m not obsessed with dragons. Sure, I read Pern at an impressionable age, and I think fire lizards sound like awesome pets (empathy! fire-breathing! teleportation!), but dragons are just one of many awesome things in fantasy that I find interesting. Had the sources that inspired me to write the Memoirs of Lady Trent been a Unicornology calendar and the Unicorninomicon, I might be writing about very different beasts today.
Having said that, I have my favorite dragons, just like many people. In no particular order, they are:
The Wawel Dragon, from the folklore of Kraków, Poland. This is your classic dragon story…almost. The dragon hangs out in a cave at the foot of the Wawel hill, eating peasants and terrorizing everybody; knights try to kill it and fail; the King promises his daughter’s hand in marriage to whoever can save her from being the next maiden sacrificed; you know the drill. The hero of this tale is a suitably humble cobbler’s apprentice—but does he slay the dragon with a sword? Nope. He stuffs a lamb’s skin with sulfur and leaves it as bait for the dragon. Who, upon eating it, develops a terrible stomachache and goes down to the river to try and ease it, but ends up drinking so much water that he explodes.
And then the apprentice marries the princess and everybody lives happily ever after, except of course for the dragon.
Maleficent, from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. I have my fingers crossed that Angelina Jolie does justice to the role, because Maleficent is one of Disney’s best villains ever. How can you not love a wicked fairy with that sense of style, especially when she turns herself into a @#$&! dragon? Sure, okay, she doesn’t start off as a dragon, but when I have a stuffed animal of her in dragon form sitting in my bedroom, I think I have to count her as one of my favorites.
Toothless, from How to Train Your Dragon. (The movie; I haven’t read the book yet, though I intend to.) I feel almost as if I’m cheating here, because Toothless is basically a cat in a dragon’s body—just look at his behavior, and the way that he moves. He even looks a great deal like my friend’s cat Thrace. And given my fondness for cats, that goes a long way toward explaining why I love Toothless so much. He’s adorable, and also awesome.
Kazul, from Dealing with Dragons by Patricia C. Wrede. The Enchanted Forest Chronicles skewer a lot of the fairy tale and legend tropes; the protagonist, Cimorene, runs away and volunteers to be a dragon’s captive princess so as to escape her expected role in life. Most of the dragons think this is absurd, but Kazul takes her on, because she needs somebody to catalogue her library and organize her hoard. I have a deep fondness for pragmatic characters, so Kazul is precisely my speed.
The fire lizards, from Anne McCaffrey’s Pern books. Because like I said: empathy! fire-breathing! teleportation! I also love a lot of her full-sized dragons—Ramoth, Ruth, Path, and so on—but it would be hard to take care of one in a San Francisco Bay Area townhouse, whereas a well-trained fire lizard would make a great pet. And I don’t think my husband is allergic to lizards; sadly, I can’t say the same for cats.
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From the Tor/Forge March 3rd newsletter. Sign up to receive our newsletter via email.
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Written by Marie Brennan
We are pleased to share with our readership an exclusive interview with Lady Trent, who graciously consented to answer a few questions one morning during a recent visit to Falchester. For her generosity and toleration, we owe her our thanks.
Lady Trent, why publish your memoirs now? You’re already known the world over—what more could you possibly hope to accomplish?
I hope to be able to write a single line in response to queries about one part or another of my life: “I have discussed that in great detail in my memoirs, and urge you to consult them if you wish to know more.” I do not mean to sound arrogant, but the truth is that it has become exceedingly tedious, repeating myself time and time again in my letters. The notion of being able to direct interested parties to a single authoritative source has become very attractive, especially as I get on in years. My eyesight is not what it once was.
In all your published materials, one thing you’ve never discussed was what has been referenced in the lesser city papers as the “Chiavoran Affair.” Is there anything you’d like to clear up regarding that matter?
“Clear up?” I should say so, if you believe there is any red meat to be found in that incident—as you so patently do. Good heavens, the idea that anybody should still be digging around in the dust-bin of my life in search of entertaining scandal. . . but perhaps I can finally lay this one to rest. (Hope, as they say, springs eternal.)
The affair, if it even merits that name, was entirely one-sided, and largely imaginary at that. I was introduced to Dom Pappino quite properly during the opening supper for the Congresso Internazionale per la Ricerca Draconica, and he behaved like a perfect gentleman. We spoke at some length during the dinner, and more in the coming days, as he was very interested in my presentation on morphological lability—a topic I dare say you don’t understand in the slightest, much less care about, as there is nothing salacious to be found in it.
That ought to have been the end of things, except that after the conclusion of the congress, Dom Pappino followed me back to Scirland. He had business there—an interest in one of the fledgling caeliger enterprises—but yes, he also had an interest in me. What the scandal-sheets failed to grasp was that his motives were intellectual in nature, not carnal. At no point did Dom Pappino attempt to proposition me. His presence at the various social events I attended may have looked suggestive, but if there was any conspiracy involved, it lay in our mutual disinclination to small talk, and preference for the company of a scholarly peer. And as for the report that he was evicted from my back garden late one night, I assure you it is entirely false.
I admit I found his company wearisome after a time, as even I enjoy conversation on topics other than dragons, and Dom Pappino was nothing if not single-minded. But the affair, as I say, was largely imaginary, existing far more in the scandal-sheets than in reality. If this disappoints you, I am afraid I cannot bring myself to apologize.
In the first volume of your memoirs, you describe an unfortunate night-time encounter with Stauleren smugglers. Was it truly your quick wit, as you claim, that persuaded the smugglers to let you go free?
It was my understanding that working at a newspaper required the sort of basic literacy skills imparted in grammar school. Was I in error? Had you attended to your reading, you would know I claimed it was the self-interest of the smugglers which persuaded them to let me go, and not my quick wit at all. As for anything else, I will thank you not to make such insinuations again.
You’re well known for your inappropriate, unladylike behavior, yet somehow you’ve become a role model for a whole generation of young ladies. What do you have to say to the thousands of shocked parents whose daughters are clamoring to follow in your footsteps?
As flattering as it is for you to paint me in such light, I suspect you exaggerate with your “thousands.” Be that as it may, I do acknowledge the situation, and understand why it distresses some.
I would say to those parents that several hundred years ago, it was inappropriate and unladylike for women to sit intermingled with men in an Assembly House—but that standard has changed. So, too, has the standard that said women should never attend the public spectacle of the theatre; now attendance is almost de rigeur, at least for those who wish to be thought socially significant. Once it was unladylike for a married woman to show her hair; then lovely hair on display became the mark of a lady; I could go on, but I believe my point has been made.
The true question is not whether a given behavior would meet with the approval of our forebears, but instead whether that behavior is detrimental to society in general or the individual in particular. I quite understand the concern of a mother or father for their daughter’s safety; my life has not been an easy one, and I bear the scars to prove it. In such instances my advice might better be directed to the young ladies themselves, in the hopes of persuading them that adventurousness and recklessness are different things, and that getting yourself killed will impress no one. But the difficulty of youth is that you believe yourself to be indestructible, and so I can only hope that the young ladies will listen to me and have a care for their own well-being.
Not all of those girls are clamoring to get sick with yellow fever or fall over an icy cliff, though. Some are merely clamoring to attend university (which I never did) or subscribe to one of the scholarly journals. In those cases, I assure the parents that no harm will be done to their daughters’ health, unless perhaps the girls are prone to eyestrain, or become wild as some of our young men do when carousing in university towns. Such perils do not, in my opinion, outweigh the benefit that might be gained from allowing bright young female minds to stretch their wings.
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From the Tor/Forge February newsletter. Sign up to receive our newsletter via email.
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