But Ralph’s father Henry stood up for him. “Now, now, Old Auntie, he’s just young and curious, that’s all. Perhaps Ralph will learn something from studying these humans.”

“Humph.” Old Auntie was clearly skeptical. “We already know how to talk and how to fly. What could we possibly learn from them?” The Gypsy’s Friend

“Are you human also? Is that why you can talk?”

“Human!” The owl gave a large trumpeting snort that echoed through the cavern. “What an insult. I should hope not. Did you never hear of the talking animals of the Secret Lake in the Heart of the Forest?” The Crystal Tower

One thing I love about science fiction and fantasy is the way it gives us a chance to look at the human condition from unique and detached vantage points.  We can be an Ent (as in Lord of the Rings)and look at humans as short-lived gadabouts who never stop long enough to think an issue through. Or we can be a robot (as in the TV show Star Trek) and look at humans and fail to understand how humans do not value above all else the fantastic gift of being able to feel emotion. Such characters can give us pause to think about what it really means to be human, and, also, a wry sense of what our behavior might look like to the rest of the universe.

I often use talking creatures in my fantasy novels for these same reasons: to get an outside viewpoint on the human condition and on human behavior.  (And also, I have to admit, because these talking creatures are just plain fun.)

I often ask myself this question: If the other creatures we share the Earth with could talk, what would they say about us?

We humans think we are pretty hot stuff.  I suspect that the other creatures in the universe might not always agree with our assessment of ourselves. They might instead tell us that we are of very little interest to them, as did Old Auntie in The Gypsy’s Friend, or that they see us as a kind of a sub-species with serious flaws and many limitations, as did Archimedes the caustic talking owl in The Crystal Tower. 

 Archimedes is a favorite with many readers and also a favorite of mine. When I wrote the scene where Archimedes first appears, I knew I was writing the standard scene where the protagonist (in this case, Florian) finds help and gets advice on how to get out of his predicament. This type of scene can be so trite and predictable. I was looking for a way to make the scene fresh and new.  I thought about using a talking animal and then I thought it might be fun to come up with a talking animal who gives the necessary advice, but who doesn’t think much of Florian, and is dubious about Florian’s chances of ever succeeding.

Archimedes was meant to be a one-off character, like Old Auntie, written for just one scene. But my daughter Shannon happened to come into my office the day I was writing the scene in which Archimedes meets Florian. When she saw what I had written about Archimedes, she said, “Mom, he’s really funny, you’ve got to put him in the book more often.”

So that’s why Archimedes was born, and how he became central to the story in all three volumes of The Shadow from the North.