by Sarah Zettel
Stone ground against stone and snapped. The dragon screamed, and the gate snapped shut.
And it was gone. There was nothing left but a pile of rubble jutting out of the steaming black lake, the crackle of settling dust, and the four of us.
Oh, there were people running around, shouting and screaming and demanding to know what was going on, but they weren’t important. What was important was that my mother, my father, Jack, and I were all still standing.
“Mama?” I whispered.
She opened her arms and I fell into them, and then Papa had his arms around both of us. It was a long time before I could loosen their hold and open up toward Jack. Slowly, almost shyly, Jack came forward, completing the embrace. We stayed like that, arms around each other, holding on for dear life. We didn’t know what would happen next. The Seelie king was still on his hill, but the odds were good he wouldn’t stay there long. He’d declared his war. If my grandparents didn’t know what had happened yet, they would soon. And behind them, Shake, grinning his broken-toothed grin, was waiting and watching for his chance.
It didn’t matter. These people I called my parents were mostly strangers to me, but that didn’t matter either. We were alive, and none of us was alone anymore.
For now, that was enough.
Author’s Note
I love old movies. I always have. Give me a black-and-white film from Hollywood’s golden age, silent or with sound, and I’m a happy camper, especially if I have a bowl of popcorn to go with it. I recognize a lot of these films (maybe most of them) have not aged well, and the social attitudes depicted can range from antediluvian to infuriating to horrifying. But there is joy there, and food for thought, and yes, there’s magic.
When I started thinking about how the glamour of fairy would translate into the United States during the Great Depression, I knew the story would have to turn toward Hollywood. Hollywood was where glamour was created and defined for the majority of the country, and that glamour was as tempting and as treacherous as any spell of legend when it worked on people, inside the movies and out.
There are more historical figures in this book than in Dust Girl, and more than there will be in the upcoming Bad Luck Girl. Paul Robeson was a real man, and he really was, among other things, an all-American football player (and in the College Football Hall of Fame), lawyer, singer, actor, and political and civil rights activist. William Randolph Hearst was the most powerful and wealthy media tycoon of his day, and he used that power to try to shape the world as he wanted it to be. He also had a long relationship with both MGM Studios, run largely by Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg, and the actress Marion Davies. His massive mansion called San Simeon still stands and is open to the public.
I’ve included a playlist of the songs that are quoted in the book and were running through my head as I wrote. The music in Golden Girl is a combination of traditional spirituals and the songs of George and Ira Gershwin. You might notice many of the Gershwin songs were written after the story takes place. But as they are some of my all-time favorites, I decided to pull out my artistic license and let love override a bit of historical accuracy.
Because we’re on the MGM back lot for so much of the story, I’ve also included a watch list of some classic movies and musicals that were in my mind as Jack and Callie made their way through the story.
A historical book always owes a lot to existing writing and research. I’d like to particularly acknowledge Donald Bogle for Bright Boulevards, Bold Dreams: The Story of Black Hollywood, and Steven Bingen, Stephen X. Sylvester, and Michael Troyan for MGM: Hollywood’s Greatest Backlot.
Playlist: The Spirituals
I chose these songs not only because they fit the story well, but also because most of them were recorded by Paul Robeson. Many are available from the Smithsonian Folkways label and can (hurray!) be found online.
“Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho,” traditional spiritual
“Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen,” traditional spiritual
“Poor Wayfaring Stranger,” traditional spiritual
“Scandalize My Name,” traditional spiritual
“Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” traditional spiritual
“Steal Away to Jesus,” Wallis Willis, circa 1862
“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” Wallis Willis, circa 1862
“Wade in the Water,” traditional spiritual
“We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder,” traditional spiritual
Playlist: The Gershwins
Gershwin songs form the backbone of some of my all-time favorite movies and musicals, so they were playing in my mind and on the headphones as I wrote. I also have suspicions about a connection between the Gershwin brothers and the Seelies, but that’s another story.
“I Loves You, Porgy,” 1935, from Porgy and Bess, George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin, and DuBose Heyward
“Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off,” 1937, words by Ira Gershwin, music by George Gershwin
“Nice Work If You Can Get It,” 1937, words by Ira Gershwin, music by George Gershwin
“Shall We Dance,” 1937, words by Ira Gershwin, music by George Gershwin
“Someone to Watch Over Me,” 1926, words by Ira Gershwin, music by George Gershwin
“They Can’t Take That Away from Me,” 1937, words by Ira Gershwin, music by George Gershwin
Watch List
Here’s another case where some of the works cited were released a little later, or a lot later, than the events in the story. But these are films that shaped my love of old movies, and it was my love of old movies that led me to this world and this story.
1929, The Broadway Melody, Charles King, Anita Page, Bessie Love. The first of the great MGM musicals, produced by Irving Thalberg.
1935, A Night at the Opera, The Marx Brothers. I love the Marx Brothers and this is probably their best movie, although that title could also go to Duck Soup.
1936, Captain January, Shirley Temple. Just because she comes up several times in the book. I’m not a huge fan of Shirley Temple movies (although the woman had a fascinating life), but this one is charming, especially her dance number with Buddy Ebsen.
1936, Show Boat, Irene Dunne, Allan Jones. This musical has been filmed a couple of times. This is the one with Paul Robeson singing “Ol’ Man River.”
1937, Shall We Dance?, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers. Possibly the best of the Astaire/Rogers musicals, with a full Gershwin soundtrack.
1940, Broadway Melody of 1940, Fred Astaire, Eleanor Powell. Because I simply love this movie and not enough people remember what a fabulous dancer Eleanor Powell was.
1941, Citizen Kane, Orson Welles. Welles’s critique of William Randolph Hearst. Widely considered the greatest Hollywood movie ever made. I don’t know about that, but it is great.
1943, Stormy Weather, Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, Lena Horne. This one I do know about. This is one of the greatest, most talented casts in the history of movies. The number with the Nicholas Brothers and Cab Calloway might be the best musical performance ever.
About the Author
Sarah Zettel is an award-winning science fiction and fantasy author. She has written more than twenty novels and many short stories over the past eighteen years, in addition to practicing tai chi, learning the fiddle, marrying a rocket scientist, and raising a rapidly growing son. The American Fairy Trilogy is her first series for teens. Visit her at sarahzettel.com.