Goblin Girl

RELEASE DATE: May 15th, 2025

Goblin Girl 

For twelve years, Gertrude has been the only goblin in Pinnec Hill.

The adopted daughter of the Captain of the Guard, she tries her hardest to live a normal life, ignoring the looks of disgust—and the rocks—thrown her way. But when an invading fleet of airships brings a goblin army crashing through the city gates, she understands why everyone fears her. The leader of this army is Wrendell, a powerful goblin sorceress, who burns the city to the ground in pursuit of one thing: the human princess, Beatrix.

Gertrude’s father tasks her with rescuing Princess Beatrix. With the aid of a cursed knight and a talking tree, Gertrude will encounter trolls and dragons, discover the true history of her banished people, and—as if that weren’t enough—struggle with her own blossoming crush on a princess who doesn’t trust her.

No one expects much of a measly goblin girl, but Gertrude may be the only person who can save the kingdom.

(Cover art by @underpalewater, cover text by Ursula Gray.)

Author’s Note

I’ve always loved fantasy.

As a kid, I obsessed over swords and magic, dragons and monsters, and found families banding together to defeat a power-hungry final boss. But as I grew older, I noticed an uncomfortable theme in works of fantasy. Why was there often a fantasy race considered entirely evil? An entire species with consciousness, who excitedly announce hobbits are back on the menu—who know what menus are—and every one of them was a remorseless monster? No orcs tell their buddies they did a great job in the raid today, or pick a flower for their partner? None of them are people?

In a world of so many humanoids, why were some races less human than others?

The world of Goblin Girl is one where girls can become knights, men are allowed to fall in love with one another, and elves and pirate captains alike defy the gender binary. It’s a world without many of the tropes intended to make fantasy stories more “realistic” because my biggest inspirations have always been video games and cartoons. However, in order to have a story about otherness, I have written a book that relies on fantasy racism for much of the tension in Gertrude’s story, for this book and for however many journeys on which we join her.

Many fantasy races, such as goblins and dwarves, have been used as harmful stand-ins for people of colour and religious minorities, most notably as stand-ins for Jewish people. I have done my very best to avoid taking any real-life stereotypes or atrocities and merely dressing them up in fantasy tropes, but the unavoidable comparisons to real racism, antisemitism, and homophobia may still cause pain to my readers. It is not my intention to portray myself as an expert of any bigoted othering, save for the queerphobia I have experienced firsthand.

This novel also contains violence, depictions of war and genocide, creepy and fearsome monsters, light Animorphs-style body horror, and romance as Gertrude navigates her first crush. There is a frank conversation about puberty, menstruation, and pregnancy. Goblin Girl also contains puns, friendship, and hope. It is a silly book and a serious book, inspired by cartoons like Steven Universe and Avatar: The Last Airbender, video games like Final Fantasy IX and several iterations of The Legend of Zelda, and book series like The Lord of the Rings and The Song of the Lioness.

To those about to embark on this journey with Gertrude Lionheart and her companions, I hope you enjoy Goblin Girl.