It might be because it’s five AM and Temp Dog just splattered mud, quite literally, in every single room (and most of the walls) of the downstairs of my house (so much for the benefits of “floorplan flow” — homes with untrained dogs in them should be more like those college dorms designed in the 60s to deter rioters), it might be because at five AM, the entire world seems a little bit surreal (I just watched all the streetlights between my house and the metro stop change from blinking yellow to green — and was inexplicably proud that I got the first green, rather than the first red), and it might be because I’m incredibly slow on the uptake, but this is just to say that I woke up this morning and, for the first time ever, it occurred to me that:
Killer Unicorns are a really weird topic for a book.
People have been telling me this for months. Most reviews of the book contain some variation on “I thought this was a really weird topic for a book, but then I really got into it.”
I guess since I’ve been into it for a while now, I’ve kind of forgotten that. When I tell people about the book and they go, “Srsly?” I am surprised. When I see conversations that are essentially “Killer unicorns? WTH?” I bristle. Yes, darnit! Killer unicorns. And you’re going to like them, I say! More, even, than Green Eggs and Ham.
I get it. I get it now. It’s weird. And I understand that when you first walk into this world, you are as Vince Vaughn in that great classic of American cinema, Dodgeball:
I do not usually review books this soon before the publication date, but I am just so excited about Rampant. I have to share how awesome Rampant was with the entire blogosphere! If ever there was a book to question my loyalty to team zombie, it would be Rampant.
Then the review goes on to say some really nice things about my hero, Astrid, and the other characters:
Astrid was a very emotionally complex character. Throughout much of Rampant Astrid struggles with her role as a unicorn hunter. This was one of my favorite things about her character and about Rampant. I just loved Astrid! Astrid’s older cousin Phil also had issues with being a unicorn hunter. Phil is a vegetarian who is at odds with unicorn hunting. It was fascinating to see how both Phil and Astrid handled their roles as hunters. In general, all of the unicorn hunters came from a variety of backgrounds. It was refreshing to see such a diverse set of characters.
And then she announces that she’s giving away her copy of the ARC. So if you want a very valuable, very rare Rampant ARC (seriously, I don’t have any), head on over there!
Thing the Third
I’m still buzzing from the awesome signing down in Tampa this weekend. Great fellowship, great turnout, and lovely hospitality from the folks at the Dale Mabry Borders (they even brought us fresh cookies!) You can see a few write ups of the event on Roxanne St. Claire’s post at Murder She Writes, on Terri Garey’s post at Writers at Play, and at the Examiner (this last one took, shall we say, a few “liberties” with facts about me — to start with, the first short story I ever tried writing for publication was in March of 2009).
And look who I met! Patrick the Spacelord! Isn’t he a cutie? He drove all the way over from the other side of the state to come to the signing, then vanished before I had a chance to talk to him — or introduce him to Roxanne St. Claire, who lives in his neck of the woods and would be very happy if the Spacelord were to show up at a Spacecoast Authors of Romance meeting one of these days soon (hint, hint, Pat).
I also met Trish Doller and her lovely daughter and mom (and boy, that picture turned out bad, for all of us, so no way you’re going to see it), as well as Brooke of Brooke’s Reviews.
Thing the Fourth
I’m kind of super-excited about an unexpected turn my manuscript took yesterday. Like, really excited. And scared. Scared, but excited. However, this will mean heading out to buy a new color of post-it note for my plot board.
The other day, I was talking to a writer friend of mine, who tells me that her industry-icon mentor takes her out to lunch every year and makes her make a list of goals for herself to accomplish that year, then, at the following year’s lunch, goes over it like a status report to see how the writer is doing.
Pretty impressive, huh?
I’m not that disciplined — but then, few of us are. At the same time however, during the signing and TARA meeting yesterday, one thing that came up over and over again was how we got started in this business, and most of us set a goal for ourselves to write a book, and did it. Simple as that.
Which made me think of the first time I ever did something like that. I was 11 years old. At my summer camp, they had just added a circus activity. At the beginning of camp, they held auditions for the different circus acts that the campers would perform for their friends at the end of the summer. I instantly fell in love with one act known as The Spanish Web, where the performer would dangle and form poses high above the ground on a rope. It remains to this day my favorite of all circus acts.
I really, really, really wanted to perform on the Spanish Web.
So at the audition, the instructor asked each of the campers who were interested in the web to climb the rope, then do an “easy” position to test their potential. Reader, I failed the first step. I could not climb the rope. I have terrible upper body strength — terrible. So there I sat for the rest of the summer, working on my tightrope act and watching the Spanish Web performers with barely-concealed envy.
And then I went home and started practicing rope climbing.
I can’t say I did it every day. After all, I was 11 years old, and camp is just a few weeks out of an entire year. I can’t even say that I practiced it every week. But every time I thought of the Spanish Web, and how much I wanted to do it, I went out and climbed a rope in my backyard. Or tried to climb. Sometimes I could only get a few feet up. But eventually I could make it all the way to the knot on the top. (It was a much shorter, fatter rope than the Spanish Web rope. This concerned me, but, even at 11, I figured the point was to build up my rope-climbing muscles.) As we got closer and closer to camp time, I escalated my workouts.
And at the circus auditions that summer, when the Spanish Web instructor asked who wanted to be first, I popped up, walked over to that rope, and climbed it to the very top. It might have been “cooler” of me to hang back or whatever, but I’d been at home climbing ropes all winter! I wanted this bad! I was so excited to finally try out the Web!
When I found out that I had won the role, I was ecstatic. I loved every moment of my work. I loved the dizziness, I loved the positions, I even loved the blisters on my feet (I still have scars). I love the Spanish Web. It’s still my favorite circus act. I would love to do it again sometime, though I bet my sense of self-preservation (read: fear of heights) is far more developed now than it was at 11. But my reward for a year of rope-climbing in my backyard was more practice, more hard work, and then a single fun performance. But I wasn’t even in it for the performance. I was in it for every day, practicing on that rope. I would ask my instructor to go up on it during off-hours too. I loved being on the Spanish Web. It was like flying. (It was actually way more fun than the flying trapeze, which was the act I did the following year since I wasn’t allowed to do web two years in a row — though I did do the pre-audition demo.)
Now, just because I’d done all that preparation was no guarantee I’d be the one performing. Maybe there was an actual gymnast who was trying out too, one who not only had killer upper body strength, but also could do splits and all kinds of other acrobatic feats that kicked the pants of my paltry rope-climbing skills. Maybe all that work was for naught. (and maybe there was another person trying out whose raw talent was more impressive, but my enthusiasm outweighed that. Who knows?) But the thing is — I may not have gotten that part after working and preparing for it, but I definitely never would have gotten it if I’d been unable to climb the rope to start with.
It’s funny, but the harder you work, the luckier you get.
It’s been 19 years since that summer, and I still think about the Spanish Web whenever I’m faced with what looks like an insurmountable obstacle. That first summer, there was no way I could have climbed that rope. I could barely get a few inches off the ground. And The first few times I practiced at home, it was the same way. But, bit by bit, my strength increased. Bit by bit, I made it up the rope. Because I really wanted it. I really, really, really wanted it, and every time I thought about how much I wanted it, I went and climbed the rope.
Every time you think about how much you want to write a book, sit down and type out a few paragraphs, a few pages. Every time you think about how much you want to get a book published, send out a query letter. Climb that rope.
And then, when you’re up on that web, don’t think about the performance. Just remember what it feels like to fly.
Today we have a very special treat, an interview with Serena Robar, whose hotly anticipated GIVING UP THE V is out now from Simon Pulse. As you can see from the interview, it’s a topic near and dear to my heart, and I enjoyed getting into the nitty gritty of the theme.
And, both Serena and I will be giving away copies of GIVING UP THE V to lucky readers. To enter the giveaway, leave a comment at the end of this blog post.
Hi, Serena! Thanks so much for taking the time to stop by the blog and talk about your new book, Giving Up the V. I have been excited about this book ever since you announced the adorable title. Can you tell us what inspired this story for you?
If Judd Apatow (40 Year Virgin) reimaged a Judy Blume novel, that would be Giving Up the V. It’s a candid view of high school today and how kids discuss sex and the peer pressure associated with making the decision to go all the way, mixed with a sweet message.
I think the story is ageless. It goes hand in hand with growing up. Your first time is considered by many, to be a landmark decision and I look at both sides in Giving Up the V. Spencer Davis is a normal girl who, on her 16th birthday is given a very untraditional present by her forward thinking mother. She gets her first gynecologist visit and a prescription for the pill. Even though she is nowhere near ready to Give up the V. Now that Spencer has the Pill, her friends become obsessed with her first time. Her best friend Alyssa thinks she should just pick someone and ‘get it over with’, while her male friends offer to service her themselves, but Spencer isn’t fixated with sex like her friends seem to be, that is, until the new boy in school takes an interest in her. Suddenly she starts to see what all the fuss is about, but she can’t decide if Ben is V-worthy.
The inspiration for the story came when I was sitting in the doctor’s office for my yearly GYN visit. A harried, fifty-something male doctor was talking to the young female receptionist. He asked her what “Giving up the V” meant. It seemed his last patient was a teen girl who was there because her mother wanted her on the Pill, but she told the doctor she wasn’t ready to give up the V yet. I knew instantly I had to tell that story. I had to explore the reverse peer pressure of a girl who wasn’t obsessed with sex when even her mother seemed on the pro-sex bandwagon.
That’s fascinating. As the daughter of an OB/GYN, I can completely picture that scenario!
As you may know, I also have a YA novel coming out this summer with a focus on the topic of female virginity and how it is viewed in modern times — albeit from a fantasy perspective. I am fascinated by the many ways modern society is still obsessed with virginity — from purity balls to “re-virginization” surgeries. And of course, the double standard! In what way did urban legends and social mores about virginity influence your writing?
The fascination with virginity is complex because opinion is deeply influenced by so many factors (Social, religious, personal, etc). The right time for one person is not necessarily the right time for another. I wanted to explore that theme in Giving Up the V. You see the double standard alive and well in Ryan, Spencer’s promiscuous male friend. Since sex means a different level of intimacy to different people, I wanted to drive that point home. Ryan sleeps around and doesn’t think there is anything wrong with his behavior because he assumes the girl knows the score, which we discover is rarely the case.
My mother was raised in a strict Catholic household and attended Catholic school. It was ingrained that you waited to have sex until you were married or you would go to hell. Since we weren’t church goers, when it came to my sex talk, she told me that I shouldn’t have sex until I was married. Period. End of discussion. I couldn’t understand that line of thinking. Why wasn’t sex okay in a committed relationship? Why did I have to be married? And because she wouldn’t discuss the possibility of pre-marital sex (probably thinking any discussion about it meant she was condoning the decision-which she did not), she wasn’t guiding me. I had questions and she wasn’t answering them. So I asked my friends and made my decisions based on that information.
The physical act itself isn’t much of a mystery with the wealth of information available on the internet, it’s the psychological and emotional impact that confounds. I wanted to write a story that answered the questions I had as a teen. The thing I was totally unprepared for was the emotional impact of sex, especially the first time. The vulnerability, insecurity and high emotions that converge. Giving Up the V explores all of that in a humorous and honest way.
I can relate to that. Spencer, your main character, seems like a really grounded young woman, especially in the face of some of the sexual-status obsession of her friends. She’s more interested in other aspects of her life, and wants to wait for the right time. I must admit that she reminds me a little of myself at her age. Whenever the topic of my sexual non-activity came up, what seemed like a non-issue to me (I’d also never traveled to Egypt or gone sky-diving) was a mystery with some of my friends. For them, there had to be a “reason” I was “saving myself” — some kind of grand religious or cultural tradition I was following. It was a topic I wanted to explore with Astrid’s story in RAMPANT, and I was surprised, while writing, to receive the same critiques from adults that I once got in the high school cafeterias! Do you think teens like Spencer, Astrid, and my teenage self deal with a different type of peer pressure? Can you talk a bit about why some justifications are viewed as more valid — and why people think they even have the right to ask!
This theme is explored in the relationship between Spencer and her best friend Alyssa (who is also a virgin). Spencer believes her first time should be with someone she loves and has a relationship with however, Alyssa doesn’t think the first time is a big deal and, in fact, considers her virginity a nuisance. She believes sex for the first time will be embarrassing and painful so she wants to pick a random guy to relieve her of her virginity so when she has sex with a guy she loves, it will be a happier memory. Two completely opposite views on virginity and both are analyzed in Giving Up the V.
The teen sex debate in the media seems to center around a false dichotomy of puritannical “abstinence only” vs. panic about the “hook up” culture. A book like GIVING UP THE V argues what I find a far more sensible path: that teens can make responsible sexual decisions, including the decision NOT to have sex.
Congratulations, by the way, on your Publisher’s Weekly review, whose praise includes: “this novel stands out for its thorough, no-holds-barred discussion of sex in its many forms—from the ugly to the beautiful.” I think a book like yours comes in the tradition of Judy Blume’s FOREVER and similar stories — not prurient, not scare tactics, just honest. What are your thoughts on this and what do you hope readers come away with after reading GIVING UP THE V?
In my opinion, Spencer is a very typical teen. She has her opinion on sex. She believes that it’s okay in a committed relationship, but she’s never had a serious relationship. She doesn’t believe her first serious relationship has to be about going all the way. There are so many firsts for Spencer and she is savvy enough to see that rushing into every first at once might not be such a great idea. She discovers passion and desire which cloud her decision making process and she knows that. To say all teens fall into either of the two extreme camps isn’t fair or reasonable. Teens aren’t stupid and it bothers me when media and ‘experts’ discuss them like they have no decision making skills. Most think about sex, its ramifications, if they are prepared and if now is the right time. But the majority isn’t news worthy. It’s the minority that sells stories with shocking revelations of seedy sexual encounters, and that’s who gets the focus. It doesn’t seem fair and hope readers walk away entertained, satisfied and perhaps a bit more savvy than they were before they started reading. It’s the perfect ice breaker to open a dialogue about teen sex. I’d love to see both teens and parents reading it.
Hi, guys. Diana again. Remember to leave a comment here to enter into the GIVING UP THE V giveaway! And, head on over to Serena’s site because today she’s giving away a copy of TAP & GOWN to anyone who signs up for her newsletter! (There’s a book-a-day giveaway going on over there this month. Don’t miss out!)
And if you’re in the Tampa Bay area, don’t forget to stop by the big booksigning this Saturday at the Borders on Dale Mabry from 2-4. For more info on the signing (and who will be there, other than moi), check out the Events page.
When I was in Australia, Sailor Boy and I were intrigued by the fact that they seemed to have a type of kangaroo to fill every biological niche. They had kangaroos like deer, like rabbits, like mice — even like lemurs. This came back to me as I was researching unicorns for Rampant and trying to reconcile the astoundingly different legends in my mind. Unicorns were described as being monstrous, gigantic animals that could attack elephants in one legend, and as being analogous to goats in another.
What if, like kangaroos, they were actually just different kinds of the same animal, filling different ecological niches?
From that brainstorm, I devised my magical world’s five species of unicorns, each of which correspond, loosely, to a different legend/mythology. This decision really opened up my world, because the different behavior and characteristics of different unicorn species provided much fodder for plot and world development.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Though, from a biological standpoint, my creatures don’t fit neatly into any taxonomic structure, I took as a jumping off point the family of bovids (though my killer unicorns aren’t actually ruminates — i.e., multiple-stomached grazing animals).
This was actually the source of an interesting Twitter conversation the other day with Tiffany Trent, fantasy writer and scientist, who said she always thought of unicorns as being closest to deer (cervids). But the reason I’ve generally avoided that classification in my world is because the defining characteristic of my unicorns are, of course, their horns, which are, like many venom reservoirs (think snake fang resevoirs), hollow. Bovids (sheep, goats, antelope, gazelles, bison, yaks, etc.) have hollow horns. Deer have bony antlers that they shed once a year. For the other deerlike characteristics of certain of my unicorns (since, as I said before, they do not all conform to the European forest-dwelling heraldic/Beaglesque vision), there are analogous antelope species. The oryx for many years was mistaken for a unicorn by folks who only saw it from the side.
However, I did love this picture of a fanged deer skull. Slap a horn on that and it looks a lot like one of my unicorns:
This is part of the fun of fantasy — you can decide that your utterly made up creatures fit any taxonomic classification that you like. Obviously, despite outward appearance and certain social structure analogies, my unciorns are not bovids. They don’t have those stomachs. They aren’t grazers. They’re sharks, jaguars, hawks… and, um platypus.
Yes, you read that right. See, platypus is one of the few mammals (and they aren’t even proper mammals, but monotremes) that are venemous. Male platypus have a poisonous spike in one leg that can fell a dog.
Scary, huh? When I was in Australia, I saw two platypus: one in the wild, and one in captivity. I watched them feed the captive one a few (live) prawns. You want to see a vicious eater: watch a platypus at dinner. there were prawn bits flying EVERYWHERE.
Where was I? Right, Imaginary monsters.
So I borrowed liberally from different mammals — predator, bovid, etc., to create my monsters, and added a big dose of magic.
I’m a firm believer that in a fantasy world, you have to work to make everything else that much more believable, if you expect people to swallow “unicorns.” Since my fantasy is set in this world — a world with cell phones, animal rights activists, long range sniper rifles, endangered species laws, and animal testing, I had to work all that into the story. I also had to deal with the reality of fake unicorns.
The most common fake unicorn was the narwhal, whose spiral,, toothy “tusk” was for years harvested and sold throughout Europe as true unicorn horn. Most of the royal houses of Europe possessed one of these, and they were sometimes worth more than their weight in gold.
Unicorn horn, you see, was said to possess magical healing/purifying properties. To eat and drink with utensils/cups made with unicorn horn, or possessing a rim of unicorn horn, was supposed to prevent poisonings. There was lost of fake horn (narwhal and otherwise) being passed off as belonging to a unicorn. In my book, I treat this legend as one of false metonymy, though unicorn horns themselves do have magical properties, at least where hunters are concerned.
And, in more recent times, folks have used animal husbandry to actually make unicorns. Did anyone else see the unicorn that used to tour with the RIngling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus? That unicorn was one of a herd created by a pagan church leader in the 70s and 80s out of a type of Angora goat. He even patented the procedure!
I love this picture of the created, goat-like unicorn. Though the behavior of the zhi in my novel is a result of an ancient Chinese legend about a zhi, this is a surprisingly accurate depiction.
And, finally, there are unicorns that are a result of genetic mutation, such as the Italian deer pictures at the top of this post. I was thrilled when that news story started popping up last year. The fact that it was a wild unicorn found in Italy made it feel like it was a present, just for me.
I’m excited for people to read the book, since most go into it with an assumption that the unicorns I’m talking about are horses with horns — and come out with a very different impression. I know that there are some readers who are just going to say (actually HAVE said to me — heck, we even got some rejection letters that said it) “I don’t like my unicorns like that” or, worse, “unicorns aren’t like that,” which I find really funny because throughout the history of humanity, unicorns have been very much like the creatures I describe.
A friend of mine recently described RAMPANT as a “unicorn book for people who don’t like unicorn books,” on account of that fact that I veer away from the fluffy, sparkly, innocent Trapper Keeper unicorns populating most books for children. But at the same time, I don’t know. I love Beagle, and I love my book. I think it’s possible to hold both of these images in your head at once.
Maybe not if you’re Astrid, and have to actually kill the things, but for the rest of us… sure.
Someone sent me a link to this article about giant Belgian cows, who possess a genetic mutation called “double muscling.” I’m sure this individual only meant to point out to me one of the grotesqueries of animal husbandry, but the second I saw this photo, my jaw dropped.
This is so how I picture the re’em, which is the second largest unicorn in the RAMPANT world. (For those of you who are interested in reading up about some of the others, check out my unicorn research page.) It’s the same color and everything as the one that shows up in the book.
So, naturally, I had to wield a little photoshoppery:
Behold, a re’em! (And his yellow-suited lunch.)
The unicorns in RAMPANT are the unicorns of myth and legend, both the ones you’ve heard about, and the ones you haven’t. Most people in the west think of white deerlike creatures when they think of unicorns (or, thanks to 70s rock album covers and 80s Trapper Keepers, a white horse with a horn), but there are also Middle Eastern, Chinese, Japanese, African, and even South American myths about unicorns that often have nothing to do with the Peter Beagleesque creation that comes immediately to mind.
The Trapper Keeper Unicorn. Yeah. Not so much.
One of the discussions my editor and I had during the production of RAMPANT was whether it was best to depict a unicorn on the cover that was reflective of the ones inside the books, or resonant with a public who has this “white horse with horn” image in their heads. In the end, we decided on the latter. After all, if we’re going to say, “Hey, here’s a book about unicorns,” we’re going to have to start with what you think of when you think of a unicorn. Putting a creature like the above-pictured re’em on the cover of my book is not going to trigger “unicorn” for most people. (At least, not before they’ve read the book.) So, instead Harper did this.
It’s very common for authors to receive covers depicting people who don’t look like their main characters. In fact, it’s something of a joke in the industry. Well, the Astrid on my cover looks a lot like the Astrid I see in my head. However, there is no white horse-like unicorn in Rampant.
And the reason for that is that the white horse unicorn is not a traditional unicorn. Even the unicorns seen in heraldry and medieval and Renaissance European art, which is the closest depiction to the Trapper-Keeper Unicorn, is not a horse. It’s a creature depicted in medieval bestiaries of the time as having the body of a deer (that means cloven hooves, folks), the tail of a lion, the beard of a goat, and a single, great spiral horn.
Remember those games from the comics page of Sunday newspapers? I was playing it the other day when this little beauty on the right popped up on Amazon.You can click on the picture to enlarge.
Picked up the new foster dog on Saturday. She’s unbelievably gorgeous, and also quite large. She can eat off my kitchen counter (yeah, we’re training her out of THAT first thing!) without lifting her front paws off the floor. It’s stunning. she’s pretty friendly, crate-trained and housetrained, but not much else. She’ll sit (under duress), comes to a whistle, and definitely knows “No.” But that’s about it. She seems to think she can have whatever she wants whenever she wants it. I don’t think she was ever shown boundaries (i.e., Tables and countertops are for people, not doggies). But she’s a sweetheart, plays remarkably well with Rio given her size, appears in prety good health, loves being brushed and is overall pretty chill.
Friday we had a quiet evening at home. Saturday, too (we’ve got Season Two of Slings and Arrows out from Netflix). Saturday afternoon, we had the end-of-term meeting for the WRW board. I’m going to miss the outgoing board members but I’m also really excited about our new president. She’s got some great ideas for the chapter in the future!
Sunday we went to a doggie event where both Rio and foster dog demonstrated pretty poor leash manners. Foster Dog was not ever trained. I’m not sure what Rio’s excuse is. Guess what we’ll be working on for the next week!
Sunday evening, I met a friend for drinks and a movie. We saw MY LIFE IN RUINS, which is the new Nia Vardalos movie (MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING). It’s about an American ex-patriate ancient history professor who loses her job at the university and ends up being a tour guide at a cut-rate Greek bus touring company, where she’s deemed the most “boring” tour guide. The tourists are all broadly drawn caricatures (drunk Australians, polite Canadians, slutty divorcees, boorish Americans), and lolz and romance ensue amongst the gorgeous scenery.
It’s cute. Not as good as …WEDDING, but cute, especially if you’ve been to Greece and understand a lot of the jokes about tourism there. I thought some things were laugh-out-loud funny, while others were a bit too broad or overplayed, such as the insulting diatribe about the person who is standing behind you, or the person who is stunningly attractive being depicted as butt-ugly for the most superficial and unconvincing of reasons (otherwise known as She’s All That Syndrome). I had a few issues with the plotting. For instance, I think if I were on a bus tour and the quality my accommodations were decided based on how much the tour operator liked my group’s tour guide, I’d probably ask for my money back. And other bits of the plotting felt overly familiar. You could see it coming from a mile away. Finally, there were some annoying continuity/editing issues.
Much like Mamma Mia! I think the film probably won a lot of goodwill merely from being set in gorgeous gorgeous Greece. Every time the film got a little meh, they could switch to a breathtaking tracking shot of cliffs, sea, ruins, and voila, you were sufficiently awed. But it was definitely a cute, feel-good kind of film. With some NICE eye-candy. And, um, other Greek scenery. Also, I seriously covet Vardalos’s wardrobe in this film. It was an endless parade of cute summer dresses, culminating (in keeping with the very on the nose flavor of the movie) a fabulous, perhaps-too-obviously-designer greek goddess number in the final scene.
So that was my weekend. What did you all do?
This week, I may not be around the blog as much as usual, because I’m hitting the final stretch in my draft and it’s very intense. However, I’ve got a special guest blogger at the end of the week. Stay tune!
When I was in Australia, Sailor Boy and I were intrigued by the fact that they seemed to have a type of kangaroo to fill every biological niche. They had kangaroos like deer, like rabbits, like mice — even like lemurs. This came back to me as I was researching unicorns for Rampant and trying to reconcile the astoundingly different legends in my mind. Unicorns were described as being monstrous, gigantic animals that could attack elephants in one legend, and as being analogous to goats in another.
This was actually the source of an interesting Twitter conversation the other day with 
Yes, you read that right. See, platypus is one of the few mammals (and they aren’t even proper mammals, but monotremes) that are venemous. Male platypus have a poisonous spike in one leg that can fell a dog.
The most common fake unicorn was the narwhal, whose spiral,, toothy “tusk” was for years harvested and sold throughout Europe as true unicorn horn. Most of the royal houses of Europe possessed one of these, and they were sometimes worth more than their weight in gold.
