Ask the Author: K.E Hummel
Answered Questions (4)
K.E Hummel
I’ve been meaning to finally dive into N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy—her world-building is legendary, and I’m long overdue. I also picked up Song for a Whale by Lynne Kelly; it’s about a deaf girl who builds a connection with a whale no one else can hear, and I want to read it before recommending it to my granddaughter. But truthfully? Most of my summer will be spent launching part two of Tide Song—Children of Tayjaru, and then of course there is the new story idea burning away in the back of my mind, so my reading list will have to float nearby, waiting for quieter waters.
K.E Hummel
The world was drowning, and no one listened—too busy shouting, drilling, taking.
But here's the twist: one girl did listen—and she sang back.
But here's the twist: one girl did listen—and she sang back.
K.E Hummel
I’d go to the archipelago of Earthsea—sailing between islands with Sparrowhawk, learning the old names of things, and dancing the Long Dance on the great ocean rafts beneath the stars. That world has always felt alive to me: quiet and powerful, shaped by currents and language and silence.
It’s one of the first fantasy worlds that felt real—not because of battles or castles, but because of the sea, and how it carried everything. That rhythm, that reverence for names and balance, stayed with me.
It’s also what inspired the invading fishing rafts, the Apum-ka's, in Tide Song. Like Earthsea, my world is made of water and memory, where the Kopri dwell within the tides and speak in ways the rest of us might miss.
So yes, give me a boat, a map full of tiny islands, and time to listen to the language of the wind painted on the waves. I’d go in a heartbeat.
It’s one of the first fantasy worlds that felt real—not because of battles or castles, but because of the sea, and how it carried everything. That rhythm, that reverence for names and balance, stayed with me.
It’s also what inspired the invading fishing rafts, the Apum-ka's, in Tide Song. Like Earthsea, my world is made of water and memory, where the Kopri dwell within the tides and speak in ways the rest of us might miss.
So yes, give me a boat, a map full of tiny islands, and time to listen to the language of the wind painted on the waves. I’d go in a heartbeat.
K.E Hummel
When I was a kid, my dad and I found an old concrete bunker built above a beach in Delaware—half-buried in sand, its rusted doors yawning open. We didn’t know what it was at the time (it’s now part of the Fort Miles WW2 Museum), but we explored it anyway. The rooms were empty and echoing, filled with sea wind and silence. It felt like stepping into a forgotten world.
I’ve been exploring ever since.
That moment—wandering through something abandoned but still humming with story—left its mark. It’s why I write the way I do: slow, curious, always listening for what’s just beneath the surface. In Tide Song: Melody of the Deep, that sense of mystery and memory becomes part of the sea itself—something ancient calling out, waiting for someone to understand.
Sometimes the best stories begin in places no one meant to leave behind.
I’ve been exploring ever since.
That moment—wandering through something abandoned but still humming with story—left its mark. It’s why I write the way I do: slow, curious, always listening for what’s just beneath the surface. In Tide Song: Melody of the Deep, that sense of mystery and memory becomes part of the sea itself—something ancient calling out, waiting for someone to understand.
Sometimes the best stories begin in places no one meant to leave behind.
About Goodreads Q&A
Ask and answer questions about books!
You can pose questions to the Goodreads community with Reader Q&A, or ask your favorite author a question with Ask the Author.
See Featured Authors Answering Questions
Learn more