MMGM and #IMWAYR: The Tea Dragon Festival!

I finally read a book, y'all!!! Took an entire month, but we made it here. Last week, I considered reading a book by K. O'Neill, and that's exactly what I did—and it was so good. So let's talk about it!

The Tea Dragon Festival

Written and illustrated by K. O'Neill

Middle grade · Graphic novel · 2019

Book 2 of 3 (The Tea Dragon Society · The Tea Dragon Festival · The Tea Dragon Tapestry)

Add it on Goodreads · Preview the illustrations

· · · The publisher says: · · ·

Now available in paperback, revisit the enchanting world of Tea Dragons with the beloved companion story to the two-time Eisner Award-winning graphic novel The Tea Dragon Society.

Rinn has grown up with the Tea Dragons that inhabit their village, but stumbling across a real dragon turns out to be a different matter entirely! Aedhan is a young dragon who was appointed to protect the village, but fell asleep in the forest eighty years ago. With the aid of Rinn’s adventuring uncle Erik and his partner Hesekiel, they investigate the mystery of his enchanted sleep... but Rinn’s real challenge is to help Aedhan come to terms with feeling that he cannot get back the time he has lost.

Critically acclaimed graphic novelist K. O'Neill delivers another charming, gentle fantasy story about finding your purpose, and the community that helps you along the way.

· · · · · ·

(Do note, this review is free of spoilers for book 1 in the series! Hooray!)

Why aren't there words to express how beautiful this book is? There is no chance my review is going to do it justice, and frankly, there's no chance I truly understand the mechanics of what makes it tick as a meaningful story. So I'll just say what I know, and then hopefully you too will pick up a copy, and you can fill in the blanks about why this book is so amazing!

I sat down to read this last night, and I did not budge until an hour later, when I had zoomed through its 136 pages and was 136% happier. K. O'Neill has embedded everything you could possibly want into a single story, including magical species, foraging, cooking, familial / platonic / romantic love, laughter, nature, tremendous acts of kindness, healing, color, adventuring, tightknit villages, et cetera, et cetera. Can I please just pack my bags and move into this story's universe? It's so peaceful here, and everyone seems to find purpose in helping their community and caring for the people they love. I'm obsessed.

Interestingly, The Tea Dragon Festival has different protagonists from book 1 in the series, The Tea Dragon Society—where that book follows Minette and Greta, this book introduces us to Rinn and Aedhan, though bounty-hunters and adorable couple Erik and Hesekiel appear in both stories. I love literally every single character—they remind me that human beings (and dragons and other species too!) are capable of such inherent goodness. There are two pages (which I cannot quote from, alas) where Aedhan and Hesekiel said such sweet and insightful things that my heart nearly leapt out of my chest—which would have posed a problem had it occurred, but there would have been nothing to do about it, for this book is just that full of compassion and wisdom.

I have taken writing classes where conflict is identified as a requirement for a compelling story. And perhaps we can define conflict, if you'll bear with me, as the question of whether the outcome we're hoping for will occur in the story. Maybe that outcome is good prevailing over evil—or maybe that outcome is our wishes as readers prevailing over ambiguity and uncertainty. According to the classes I've taken, we keep reading because we need to know if the conflict is resolved—if good wins, if our wishes come true, et cetera. But is conflict as necessary to a page-turner of a book as we think? My favorite author, Rebecca Stead, says that "The most important thing to know about writing is that there are no rules." And in this case, she's right, because K. O'Neill has written yet another quietly revolutionary book that isn't conflict-driven in the traditional sense, but still has momentum. In The Tea Dragon Festival, I don't think there's any doubt that good will prevail, or that our wishes as readers will be respected—O'Neill establishes from the first page that this is a kind, gentle, hopeful universe, one that evil and bigotry and selfishness cannot encroach upon. This is a universe where, when characters feel isolated and alone, all they have to do is open themselves up to the possibility of companionship, because that companionship and community is always there for them, waiting to be let in. (Imagine if our real world worked that way.) O'Neill motivates us to turn the pages of their books not by making us fear that the worst will occur, but giving us hope that the best will occur. The joyous scenes seem to crescendo, one after another, and the uncertainty and challenges that characters face always seem manageable. By the end of any K. O'Neill book, including The Tea Dragon Festival, I think it's inevitable that you'll have renewed faith in humanity—not in the sense that we're not capable of bad, but in the sense that we are capable of good, because we can create, think about, and talk about worlds that are as optimistic as this one. (In short, we need to elect K. O'Neill as our president or world overlord. Make it happen, y'all.)

This is the part of the review where I talk about many unrelated things in quick succession because I didn't outline in advance! First, I'm struck by how this series defies typical age range categories. I call it "middle grade" because the short length and reasonable complexity makes the books accessible to even early MG readers—but at the same time, there's a unique emphasis on adult perspectives too, as with scenes revolving entirely around Hesekiel and Erik, with no kids in sight. I think this series is "age-less" in that anyone, young or old or in between, can fall in love with it. (My only caution is that, like book 1, this book does include a single scene of violence that the youngest of young readers may not jive with.)

Jumping to an entirely different topic, there is a quiet but ever-present theme in the story of Rinn trying to find their purpose in the world, and O'Neill has a clever takeaway for these theme that I think we could all stand to internalize.

Yet another thing: I was having a conversation with my best friend where she reminded me that the only "obstacle" to authors including more diverse characters in their books is doing a little bit of research—it's hardly rocket science. And O'Neill, perhaps more than any other author I've ever read, seems to believe that if they have the opportunity to include a diverse character and make a reader feel seen, why not take that opportunity? Protagonist Rinn identifies outside the gender binary, Hesekiel and Erik are a same-gender couple, minor character Lesa communicates with other people through sign language (which I've never seen in a graphic novel before!), and all of the named human characters are people of color. And this diversity also exists amidst diversity of smaller things—species, occupations, outfits, experiences—so that it feels not like a half-hearted attempt to check a box, but like a core tenet of the story's universe, and a cause for celebration.

Last thing—the art is stunning!!! Basically, imagine the cover, which is beautiful, but on every page. Luminous colors and expressions everywhere you look. O'Neill also uses non-diegetic growing vines within panels as a kind of substitute for characters blushing, to indicate emotional intensity or connection—it's a super-clever detail that I haven't seen before. (Did I include this comment so I could celebrate that I remember the word "non-diegetic" from my college film class? Maybe.)

In conclusion—just go read the book!!! Or, to put that in a less pushy way, I genuinely cannot imagine a valid criticism of O'Neill's books, especially this one. I think this is my favorite of theirs so far if we're excluding The Moth Keeper, and it makes me wonder if they are actually my favorite graphic novelist (and I've read a lot of graphic novels). There just isn't another author I can name whose stories are this much of an ode to human compassion and the possibilities for our future—I feel like, book by book, O'Neill creates a blueprint for how we can be our best selves, bring goodness into others' lives, and create a world where a sense of community and fulfillment is a given. If you're feeling burnt on the world or the people in it, let O'Neill remind you, per their author bio, of the "magic of everyday life." Let yourself get sucked in to the world of the Tea Dragon series—it's one of the best things you can do for yourself, I promise.

Random thoughts:

While reading a textbook chapter for school about jobs, I noticed how weird the word "job" is. Basically, they took the weirdest sound they could come up with—"ob"—and then took the most random letter they could think of—"j," as in "jelly"—and just stuck 'em together! And now we say "job" like it makes a lick of sense. I'm doing my part in the world by bringing this matter to your attention.

The Kidlit Lovers' Meetup!

On the note of accepting communities and compassion...we've got one of our own right here in the book-blogging world! And I'm excited to announce the fourth Kidlit Lovers' Meetup, a chance for us book bloggers to hang out and connect over a Zoom call. It is scheduled for:

Saturday, September 28, 2024

4-5 PM Pacific / 5-6 PM Mountain / 6-7 PM Central / 7-8 PM Eastern

RSVP here >>

We'll be talking about books, blogging, reading, and more, and I'll have discussion questions prepared to keep the conversation going. The whole thing is designed to be very low-stress—even if you're as chronically introverted as I am, my goal is for you to still feel welcome and enjoy yourself!

You can RSVP for the meetup here, or learn more about the meetups here. Feel free to email me at completelyfullbookshelf [at] gmail [dot] com with any questions.

That's all, y'all—I hope your week is as peaceful and kind as a K. O'Neill book! ✨✨