The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill
Hi, I am Sarah. I am fourteen years old and an avid reader; it is one of my favorite things to do. Inspired by authors’ creations of magnificent places and surprising havens built by simple letters, I aspire to be an author and, meanwhile, nurture the love to write.
This is the story of a witch. A witch who steals babies. A witch who eats babies. A witch who terrorizes the sad, foggy town of Protectorate, which is why they must sacrifice their babies.
Or, it’s the story of a witch who nurtures them. A witch named Xan. A witch who has love in her heart and does all to share it.
Or, it’s the story of a witch who eats the sorrow of those left behind. A witch with a tiger’s heart. A witch cunning and selfish and corrupted.
Or, it’s the story of both. Or neither. It’s the story of a mother who went quite mad. Of a flock of paper birds with uncertain motives. Of an ancient, poetic swamp monster. Of a boy with hope in his heart despite the sorrow surrounding him. Of a very friendly, Perfectly Tiny Dragon. Of children with stars in their eyes. It’s the story of a witch. It’s the story of a wild girl named Luna, a girl who drank the moon.
It’s the story of all of them. Words are powerful things, you know.
Kelly Barnhill writes a powerful, interconnected story about love and sorrow and hope and loss, a story that twists and turns, letting puzzle pieces snap in unexpected but absolutely remarkable ways. Through her original and quirky prose, she weaves her tale with power and starlight and some magic boots and a scattering of stars.
And words, of course, because words are the most powerful magic of all.
