Last week I had the awesome opportunity of attending the very first Dragonsteel Mini-Con, a convention centered around the works of Brandon Sanderson that was held in celebration of his newest book, Cytonic, being released. While I was there I got to be on a panel called “A Picture and 1,000 Words” with the amazing artist Steve Argyle.
Steve Argyle and I at Dragonsteel Mini-Con 2021
The idea for the panel was to have a visual artist and a writer come together and create new pieces of art in response to one another’s pre-existing artworks, while giving tips to the audience about writing descriptions and drawing from written descriptions. For about an hour I got to drone on about writing descriptions, and Steve drew an awesome sketch based on an excerpt of my writing while explaining the process of doing so in real-time. At the end of the panel I wrote a small response to one of his amazing artworks, and I thought it’d be fun to post that response here.
So, without further ado:
Lady Risset hadn’t needed to come watch the migration herself. Joem resented that she had; he usually had no trouble crossing the Thread Bridges on his own, but under supervision he found the experience vexing, borderlining on hazardous.
It was how she was just sitting there. Perched on a pillar of stone in the midst of the Bridges, impossible not to look at from any angle or approach. Joem tried not to look, but she was always there, stuck in the corners of his eyes: iron claws gripping granite, legs plated in layers of copper and gold, limbs the size of trees attached to a broad chest from which spread unfurled wings. Lit from below by the glow of the Lava Fields under the Bridges, the Lady was like a seething ember against the sky, blocking out the light of the full moon and casting shadow over the planks in front of Joem, a reality that made him feel like he was in constant threat of tripping.
As far as dragons went, Lady Risset wasn’t the most impressive master Joem had been indentured to. He’d once worked for a Lady composed of a million different crystals that grew from every part of her body. She’d been accompanied everywhere she went by several molten fledglings, little-snouted creatures that carried platters of fresh meat cuts and sheep eyes in fragrant towers, always ready to heed their mistress’s call and piece flesh into the cavities between her obsidian teeth.
Now that had been a dragon.
For the curious, this is the artwork of Steve’s I was writing in response to: https://www.steveargyle.com/sentinel
Now everyone go check out Steve’s art, because he is amazing.