Log in

The · Pixie · Home · Forest

In Which a Pixie Princess Issues Royal Commands and Opinions

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *
anyone know how to import another blog to live journal?
* * *
I am not here anymore. I'm over here: http://wardancingpixie.blogspot.com/
* * *


From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia


Pixies are winged human-like creatures often associated with England and Scotland.

Pixies are variously described in folklore and fiction. In the legends associated with Dartmoor, Pixies are said to disguise themselves as a bundle of rags to lure children into their play. The pixies of Dartmoor are fond of music and dancing. These Pixies are said to be helpful to normal humans, sometimes helping needy widows and others with housework. They are often ill clothed. [1] Lack of fashion sense has been taken by Rachael de Vienne, a fantasy writer, to mean that Pixies generally go unclothed, though they are sensitive to human need for covering. [2]

In Devonshire Pixies are said to be "invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man." Yet in some of the legends and historical accounts they are presented as having near human stature. For instance, a member of the Elford family in Tavistock, England, successfully hid from Cromwell's troops in a Pixie house. [3] A location in Devonshire associated with Pixies was the inspiration for Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem Song of the Pixies. [4]

Many Victorian era poets saw them as magical beings. An Example is Samuel Minturn Peck. In his poem "The Pixies" he writes [5]:

'Tis said their forms are tiny, yet

   All human ills they can subdue,

Or with a wand or amulet

   Can win a maiden's heart for you;

   And many a blessing know to stew

To make to wedlock bright;

Give honour to the dainty crew,

The Pixies are abroad tonight.

Belief in Pixies and Fairies is still held by many and their visitations are documented in obscure volumes of English and Scots legend. By the early 19th Century their contact with "normal humans" had diminished. In Drew's Cornwall [6] one finds the observation: "The age of Pixies, like that of Chivalry, is gone. There is, perhaps, at present hardly a house they are reputed to visit. Even the fields and lanes which they formerly frequented seem to be nearly forsaken. Their music is rarely heard."

Some Pixies are said to steal children or to lead travelers astray. This seems to be a cross over from Fairy mythology and not originally attached to Pixies. Thomas Keightley observed that much of Fairy myth is attached to Pixies by Devonshire mythology. [7] Pixies are said to reward consideration and punish neglect on the part of larger humans. Keightley gives examples. By their presence they bring blessings to those who are fond of them.

Pixies are drawn to horses, riding them for pleasure and making tangled ringlets in the manes of those horses they ride. They are "great explorers familiar with the caves of the ocean, the hidden sources of the streams and the recesses of the land." [8]

The Victorian era writer Mary Elizabeth Whitcombe divided Pixies in to tribes according to personality and deeds. [9] Another writer known only as Mrs. Bray suggested that Pixies and Fairies were distinct species. [10] Some find Pixies to have a human origin or to "partake of human nature" in distinction to Fairies whose mythology is traced to immaterial and malignant spirit forces. In folklore Pixies and Fairies are antagonists. They battled at Buckland St. Mary, Somerset. The Pixies were victorious and still visit the area. The Fairies are said to have left after their loss. [11]

Pixie mythology seems to predate Christian presence in Britain. They were subsumed into what passed as Christianity with the explanation that they were the souls of children who had died un-baptized. By the mid 19th Century Pixies were associated with the Picts. This is an improbable origin of Pixie mythology. Some 19th Century researchers made more general claims about Pixie origins, or have connected them with Puck, a mythological creature sometimes described as a fairy. The name Puck is of uncertain origin.

One British scholar took Pixie myth seriously enough to state his belief that "Pixies were evidently a smaller race, and, from the greater obscurity of the … tales about them, I believe them to have been an earlier race." [12]

Pixies are said to be uncommonly beautiful, though there are some called pixie who have distorted and strange appearance. One Pixie is said to have some goat-like features. Another is said to be coltish in character.

Before the mid 19th Century Pixies and Faires were taken seriously in much of rural England. Books devoted to the homely beliefs of English peasantry are filled with incidents of Pixie manifestations. Some locales are named for the Pixies associated with them. In Devonshire, near Challacombe,a group of rocks are named for the Pixies said to dwell there. In some areas belief in Pixies and Fairies persists.

In modern fiction the fantasy author Rachael de Vienne is probably most faithful to Pixie mythology, weaving many of its elements into her work. Other writers pay tribute to Pixies by at least using the name, though they often stray form the mythology. The myths themselves are so diverse that many different and interesting approaches to Pixies can be taken without damage to original sources.


In Holly Black's works, pixies are green-skinned, human-sized faeries with shimmering wings. They have a command of glamour and a type of power to charm or seduce others.

In Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, pixies are one of a number of magical species that have been driven underground by humans and the pollution they have caused on Earth. Opal Koboi is the megalomaniac, genius pixie of Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception.

In Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels The Wee Free Men and A Hat Full of Sky feature a race of fairies named "Pictsies," which are truly Pictish pixies.

In Rachael de Vienne's Pixie Warrior, Pixies are winged females with wings that color to show their emotions. They seek husbands from among humans. They are four feet tall on average, and have a gestation of two weeks.

In J. K. Rowling's "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets", Gilderoy Lockhart releases a cage of Cornish blue pixies into the classroom in an effort to teach the students how to defeat them in his Defense Against Dark Arts class.

In Kim Harrison's Rachel Morgan series, Rachel, a witch, works closely with Jenks, a pixie, to track down the missing, save various creatures, retrieve stolen objects, defend the defenseless, etc. Jenks, his wife, and large family live in, tend, and protect Rachel's garden.


Peter Pan (1953 film): In the Disney film based on the play by J.M. Barrie, Tinker Bell is described as a pixie but is actually a fairy. In the Disney versions she always uses "pixie dust" rather than the fairy dust in the play. "In Sir James M. Barrie's original play, Tinker Bell is traditionally staged as a flying point of light beamed from offstage. Animator Marc Davis' personification of her as a winged pixie with a very womanly figure was widely criticized as too sexually suggestive by Barrie purists, especially after it was rumored that she was modeled after actress Marilyn Monroe. Tink was actually modeled after Margaret Kerry, the actress who performed her live-action reference." [13] According to Barrie's original play: "Peter Pan ... explained, 'she is called Tinker Bell because she mends the pots and kettles (tinker = tin worker).' (Similar to 'cinder' plus 'elle' to get Cinderella)". [14]

In The Fairly OddParents The Pixies are dull, wear grey suits, speak in monotone voices, wear pointy caps and, unlike the fairies, treat magic like a business. Instead of wands, they carry cellphones. The Head Pixie (H.P. for short), Mr. Sanderson, and the other male pixies are all voiced by Ben Stein. The female pixies are not seen. This is due to them being named after pixels.

American Dragon: Jake Long: Pixies are featured as one of the mythical creatures in the show.

Winx Club:The pixies are bonded to the fairies at Alfea.


1. ^ Robert Hunt: Popular Romances of West England, 1881, page 96

2. ^ Rachael de Vienne, Pixie Warrior, Drollerie Press, 2007

3. ^ A Handbook for Travelers in Devonshire, 1887 edition, page 230.

4. ^ Shed (editor): Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Vol. 7, 1854, page 24

5. ^ Ballads and Rondeaus, 1881, page 47

6. ^ The History of Cornwall From the Earliest Records & Traditions, to the Present Time, 2 vols. 1824.

7. ^ The Fairy Mythology, 1850, page 299.

8. ^ Devonshire Pixies, Once A Week, February 23, 1867, pages 204-5.

9. ^ Bygone Days of Devonshire and Cornwall, 1874, page 45.

10. ^ Legends, Superstitions and Sketches of Devonshire, 1844, page 169.

11. ^ Katherine Mary Brigs: The Faires in Tradition and Literature, page 179.

12. ^ C. Spence Bate: Grimpspound and Its Associated Relics, Annual Report of the Transactions of the Plymouth Institution, Vol. 5. part 1, 1873-4, page 46

13. ^ [1] Walt Disney Archives 2008, Tinker Bell charater

14. ^ [2] Project Gutenburg edition of public domain Peter Pan (Peter and Wendy) by J. M. Barrie, 1991, 2006.

Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pixie"


Current Mood:
chipper chipper
* * *
Current Mood:
cheerful cheerful
* * *
These are all by Francis Kerr Cook (1880-1950) and taken from The Elson Reader, Book Three, 1920 edition.

Current Mood:
thankful thankful
* * *
* * *
From the dust jacket for Damon Knight's The World and Thorinn, Berkley, 1980. The original art work was by Tom Hallman. I like the concept. Pixies don't have bat-like wings, but I do see their wings as flexible.

Current Mood:
chipper chipper
* * *
I especially like this first illustation. This is from Book 4 of the How and Why Library (1948). This is the Maiden of Spring. She has no wings, but not all Faires do. She'd make a good pixie if she had wings:

This next illustration is from the same book. It represents the "insect fairy" concept. I don't like the insectiod fairy concept at all. It's a Victorian Era idea that is too far removed from Fairy Mythology.

Current Mood:
uncomfortable uncomfortable
* * *
Another blogger has posted a photo of her writing space. I'm not going to post a photo. I'd have to clean up my desk, and those piles of stuff actually represent my current research project. Besides, my office area isn't the most revealing space. All it shows is that my mind functions off organized chaos.

Probably the most revealing space is my bedroom. I keep a small bookcase within reach of my side of the bed. Some of the books on it have found a long-term home, but none of them are permanent except a Bible encyclopedia and The Oxford Classical Dictionary. The books that find a place there are books that I'm currently using.

I'm not sure what the titles reveal about me, but here's a description organized by shelf:

Top Shelf: A bound volume of The Christian Observer for 1807. A. E. Hatch's Handbook of Prophecy, Historical Sketches of Glamorgan (2 vols.); Eight books on fairies, five on regional mythologies, one on ghosts.

Second Shelf: The Vampire in Europe; Lawson's Modern Greek Folklore and Ancient Greek Religion; two histories of women; A History of Private Life, vols. 1 and 2; Rowe's The Elizabethan Renaissance.

Third Shelf: Froom's Prophetic Faith; Peter's Theocratic Kingdom; a biography of Isaac Newton; A Syntax of the Greek New Testament; a cookbook published in 1807.

Bottom Shelf: Three volumes of The Cambridge Medieval History; a pair of size 10 girl's shoes stuck between books; a box with some old coins; a history of the OSS; a book on the Johnstown flood.

So, what do you think?
Current Mood:
groggy groggy
* * *

I've been thinking about Pixie wings. I imagine them as rather large. They provide lift for a good size body. And even though my pixies are light weight with a bone structure more like that of a bird than a human, their wings would have to be large enough to lift them.

In many illustrations the wings are too small. I found this one in Burchill, Ettinger and Shimer's The Progressive Road to Reading (Silver Burdett, 1909). The picture is inelegant, and with a few exceptions my pixies don't wear clothes. I also don't see pixie wings in quite this fashion. But, notice the wing size on the fairy.

Here is another from the same source:

Current Mood:
satisfied satisfied
* * *
I keep going to the USPS web site to track the progress of my contract. ... That's probably compulsive behavior. But then, compulsive behavior is a Pixie trait.

My 33,000 word history book that I was going to self-publish has found interest with a traditional publisher, but they want rights I do not wish to sign away. So, we'll see. I may still self-publish. Interest will be very low. If it sold 500 copies, I'd be surprised.

It started life as an article for The American Society of Church History journal. It was supposed to be under ten thousand words. It kinda got outa hand.

I'm stuck on chapter one in my new work in progress. There is a sword. Okay ... Pixies don't usually take up any weapons. They use what Ya Sha El has given them, including their Hunt Teeth. But ... there will be a sword. I have a description in mind. Fine steel. (That's easy. The time setting is about 1925. So we can find the steel.) A sliver hilt. Gold inlay for a phrase engraved on the guard. ... I am torn about the reason for the silver hilt. The reason I wish to use conflicts with something in Pixie Warrior. I must either find a way around that, or use another. Oh ... the trials and tribulations! Oh, the mental agony.

I decided Janet Reid's blog is worth visiting regularly. She's an agent. Go visit her

Current Mood:
geeky geeky
* * *
* * *
I got another rejection, a nice one. It said they liked Pixie Warrior but that it wasn't quite what they published ... It came two days after I signed with Drollerie Press ... Sigh. Isn't it nice to be an almost published author?! (Don't you like "?!"? So expressive ... well maybe not.

but that's right ... someone liked Pixie Warrior enough to publish it.

And contrary to the opinion of some, I'm not particularly morose ... only moody in a dark fashion.

So, it's not as if I stood on a chair and yelled yipee or anything. Oh, no! I just emailed everyone I could think of and called every relative still living on two continents or something very like that. So, I yelled yipeeeee once. And very quietly. And I wasn't standing on a chair, either. And I won't confess to jumping up and down on my bed screaming, "They Liked IT. They LIKED IT! THEY LIKED IT!

Current Mood:
excited excited
* * *
by Rachael de Vienne

I lay a rose on my ancestors' tomb.
I cry.
I join them.

* * *

I'm a little princess. My father would tell you that all little girls are
princesses, but I really am one. I was born one. I guess that means my blood
is blue, though from experience, I can tell you I bleed red.

I am a lost princess. Oh, I know where I am. I'm not lost in that sense.
I'm lost otherwise. I suppose there have always been tragic princesses. Poor
Alys, the jilted betrothed of Richard Lionheart, was tragic, as was Berengaria,
the woman he married. Yet, for all their suffering, they were not, I should
think, lost.

I am lost. I become more lost each day. I lose the essentials of my self
through a daily drain of memory. I may simply stop existing. Oh, the shell
of the princess will be here, confined to a bed, wheeled in a chair, fed
with a spoon, wiped and washed by hands either loving or uncaring, but not

I fight this constant drain of soul. I resent the daily loss of most of the
previous days memories. I fight the daily theft of the essence of my being.
I want my memories back!

Think as I think. Did you love me yesterday? Were you tender? Did you offer
your obeisance? Did I accept? Likely, I will remember it not at all, or only
palely, as one might remember a shadow. This leaves me eternally on the outside,
estranged from even those who love me. It leaves me dependant on routine.
I can still remember deeply set routines. And I can remember the oddly special,
at least for a while.

I remember the little boy and girl who found me in a hospital emergency waiting
room. They were drawn to me for reasons I find mysterious, and for two hours
or more talked incessantly about their small lives.

The girl-child hurt her foot on a toy, puncturing it. Home remedies failed
and infection grew. I know. She shoved her foot in my face for me to inspect
and to sympathize. She is a small thing, even as I was small. And she is
seven. She is bronze-haired in the way blond sometimes manifests itself among
Hispanics with a significant European ancestry. She was charming and sweet.

Her brother would drift off into Spanish which I do not understand. He was
five. He wishes to be a policeman, or a guitar player. He likes horses, his
dad, and his sister. Oh, and more than wishing to be a guitar player, he
wishes to be a fish when he is of an appropriate age.

His sister met his aspirations to Pisces-hood with deep scorn. Why would
anyone want to be a fish! She, in much more appropriate and human fashion,
wants to be Chinese. I couldn't resist telling her that would be a very difficult
goal for a young Mexican girl to attain.

They made me miss my own children who nested in warm beds while I sat in
an uncomfortable chair and tried to remember exactly why I was there.

Sometimes I wish I was as a snake. Oh, I don't really like snakes at all.
I killed one once. Snake-kind and I don't get along at all. But, snakes shed
their skin and remain themselves. I'm shedding life one pixel at a time.
When the accumulated data loss becomes great enough, I delete files and shed

I cry. That, I'm sure, I shall be able to do even when there is no memory
of why tears come.

Current Mood:
morose morose
* * *
Number 1:

Ms. de Vienne,

Thank you for sending Dragon Sword:Call of the Pixie Warrior to The Wild Rose Press for consideration. It is with a heavy heart that I write this rejection letter. Your manuscript was a real pleasure to read! Your voice is unique, and your writing style is tight. The storyline caught my attention and kept me reading. Unfortunately, it does not fit into the Romance genre published here at The Wild Rose Press. The romantic elements in the story are few and far between, and there is very little conflict, tension, or romantic build-up between the hero and herione. The two characters fall in love within the first two chapters and already have a child in tow by chapter four. From that point on, the storyline definitely fits adventure/fantasy genre, not romance. The fact that the romantic couple are called "Father" and "Mother" throughout the manuscript also hinders the romantic elements in the story.

I think you are a very talented author with a real grasp on sensory detail, character development, and plot development. I would love to have you as part of the team at The Wild Rose Press. Your manuscript is so clean that very few editorial revisions would be needed if it fit our genre. If you decide to rework Dragon Sword:Call of the Pixie Warrior as a romance novel or have other manuscripts with a heavier romantic element, I would be delighted to receive them for consideration. Thank you again for your submission to The Wild Rose Press. I truely hope to hear from you again in the future!


The Wild Rose Press
Editor, Faery Rose

Number 2:

Reader comment: Excellent read, very entertaining and a lot
of fun....But not really Baen material.
Current Mood:
crushed crushed
* * *
By Rachael de Vienne

When you cough and you sneeze
You create a tremendous breeze,
Not to mention all the fires
That leaves me to put out.

The way you carry on and cry
One would think you're going to die.
I've rubbed aromatic goo on your chest;
So you've no reason to pout.

I've made you green tea laced with
Honey and Cream;
I've sung your favorite lullabies until
You're deep in a dream.

I've padded your nest with feathers and down.
I've plumped your billow
And read you a book.
In short, I've done everything to erase your frown.

It's hard when a Dragon catches a cold.
I'm sympathetic to your need to stretch your wings and flap,
But there's no way you're sitting on this Pixie's lap!

Current Mood:
depressed depressed
* * *
* * *
by Rachael de Vienne

Great wings darkened the sun
And shriveled the hearts of knights once bold.
Even the King's heart grew cold.


I've heard of this from times long past.
A Dragon's come to break his fast

I'm sorry, my dear,
The king said with a tear,
But he'll need a princess most tender
For his dragonly dinner.

Only roast princess will do,
It's always been said,
Maybe in a stew served with black bread.


So off the princess went dressed in her finest attire.
I might as well look good,
She explained,
If I'm going to expire.

She found the dragon deep in a doze,
And to get his attention she knocked on his nose.

She pried open an eye.
It seemed to smolder.
She shook him and kicked at his shoulder.


What is it you want? he asked,
Having popped open both eyes.


I'm your dinner, I think,
Or maybe a snack.
Let me freshen up, and I'll be right back.


Hold on for a minute.
Don't go away.
You're my dinner?
Is that what I heard you say?


Yes, she said, with a cute little bow.
Just give me a minute to prepare,
And I'll be your chow.


What a preposterous notion!
Not to be at all a contrarian,
But we dragons are mostly vegetarian!


Our princess grew red in the face.
I've tramped all over to come to this place!
I've panted and sweated and kept up a good pace!
And now you say you won't eat me?


I'm sure you're very tender
And taste just like chicken,
But I'm in the mood for a peach,
If you're in the mood to go picking.


I really must insist you take a nibble or bite;
I'm quite resigned and over my fright.


Well, he said with a deep smoky sigh,
Maybe just a lick
Is something to try.

Out came his tongue.
It was pink and a bit thick.
Quickly enough he gave her a lick.

You're salty, he said,
But I crave something sweet.
Maybe you have a sugary treat?


The princess was disappointed not to be eaten
And determined not to be beaten.

She felt in her pocket and pulled out a candied plum,
And held it out between finger and thumb.

His great mouth settled over her hand.
She expected to be eaten,
But he only nibbled the plumb


O princess, he sighed, that was most exquisite.
If you were a dragon, I'd marry you this minute!

You're a spunky lass
And really quite brave.
It's too bad you don't have scales and live in a cave.


Well, she said after some thought,
If you have a warm cave, I wouldn't mind living in it.

There's no reason for me to go home.
My father expected you'd gnaw on my bones.

You're really quite nice
And have beautiful scales.
You're the handsomest Dragon in all of Wales.

So they were wed in a glen
And attended by pixies and mice.
For a princess who might have been pudding,
Things were most decidedly nice.
Current Mood:
dorky dorky
* * *
By Rachael de Vienne

Put me down you great hulking beast!
I don't care about that old dance or even the feast.

You just take your scaly wings right back to your lair
Insist all you want.
I'm not going; you hear?

A promise of crumpets and scones won't trick me!
I'm not going to dance or have a good time.
I'm not going to do it. You can't make me mind!

I can make these decisions without dragon-help.
Loose your talons and let me be,
Or I'Error running style: S2TIMEOUT: Timeout: 4, URL: pixiesnit.livejournal.com/ at /home/lj/src/s2/S2.pm line 532.