I faintly remember the first time I read Spindle’s End by Robin McKinley. I was enraptured by her prose. I was first drawn to her when I picked up The Hero and the Crown at my local library (that was years ago at the beginning of high school). Though I faintly remember reading it as well, I do remember that I loved the story and thought highly of its protagonist, Aerin. As the years wore on, I branched out to other authors and read other stories and forgot about McKinley but every now and then, the memory of how I felt when I first read her books would visit and nudge me to revisit them.
I felt that way earlier this year and finally gave in to that nudge. I visited Barnes and Noble and bought Spindle’s End. I kept recalling the moment when the Queen saw Rosie and knew she is her child despite the enchantments that surrounded Rosie to disguise her. I could almost feel the love that pulled the Queen’s eyes to Rosie. I wanted to experience that again.
This time when I read Spindle’s End, I was able to appreciate how detailed the story is. At first, this was a nuance. The abundance of details makes the tale flow at a leisurely pace, quite like the characters and setting of the story. Since novels these days are usually fast-paced—or they start off with a bang to grab the reader’s attention then slow to crawl—I was impatient when I began reading. Surprisingly, I was not this impatient with stories when I was a kid.