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Warning: unless you're already a Xanth fan, this page will seem extremely cheesy to you...

As you may already know, Xanth is a land that resembles Florida in shape. However, aside from a few aesthetic similarities,(mostly a few landmarks), that is the only resemblance. Xanth is a magical land, populated by dragons, fairies, magical flora and fauna, moat monsters, monsters under the beds, magicians, gnomes, gargoyles, sirens, golems, zombies, Com Pewters, and all manner of magical creatures. All of the essentials of life grow on trees and bushes.

The Demon (X)anth rests in a cave beneath Xanth proper.  He is the source of the magic that exists there.  The demon is trapped in a 'penalty box' in a game that has lasted for many centuries.  He left once, rendering Xanth mundane, but luckily he was persuaded to come back.  However, since I'm not one to spoil anyone's fun, I won't tell you what happens. Read the book.  =)

Because of the magic the Demon emanates, Xanth natives are born possessing magical talents, one apiece, and many of the monsters have talents as well. These talents can be anything: one person might have useless "spot-on-the-wall" magic, and another might have powerful magician-caliber magic. Some talents, such as the one Bink possesses, may not be readily apparent to other people.

Xanth Life is, in general, pleasant and happy. That isn't to say that bad things don't happen in Xanth though. Not all of the inhabitants are friendly, and there are some dangerous places. First time travelers to this magical place should be alert at all times.

Mundania (the name that the Xanthians use to refer to our land), is a place where no magic exists.  The closest thing we have to magic is rainbows, but they are hard to find.  The Good Magician Grey is from Mundania, and there are other mundanes who have found their way to Xanth, but in general, contact between the two worlds is pretty rare.  When the tide is right and the sea is a certain color, passage between Xanth and Mundania is possible, but if you don't time it perfectly, you may end up in a different time, on a different continent, than you intended.  Magician Trent was once banished to Mundania, where he managed to live right outside of the shield.  The shield is a deathstone, allowing Xanth folk to travel to Mundania, but not the other way around.  This was erected after numerous mundane barbarian waves decimated the land and killed most of the inhabitants during various points of history.  There have been other Xanthians who have gone to Mundania on occasion, but in general, it is a very dangerous and unfriendly place for decent, gentle folk, and best avoided.  If you didn't know any of this, then I suggest you see Magician Humphfrey about a spell to nullify the forget whorl that you must have passed through.  =)

The tales of Xanth are chronicled by a very punny man named Piers Anthony. And since I brought it up, I may as well warn you that the land of Xanth is riddled with bad puns...

Piers has written 20 books about Xanth so far, and is currently working on publishing more of the series. The first Xanth book was written in the 1970's, when I was a very small child ;) He has written over 100 books, not all of them fantasy and sci-fi. His works include a series called the Incarnations of Immortality, definitely worth a read. There is currently an entire shelf on my bookcase filled with his work. However, since this page is concerned with Xanth, I won't list them all. If you have a strange sense of humor and don't mind all sorts of veiled adult references, you will probably enjoy his other works.

I found this Xanth fan video on YouTube, and thought it was awesome. I hope you enjoy it:

Xanth books in the order which they were written.

01. A Spell for Chameleon, Del Rey 1977
02. The Source of Magic, Del Rey 1979
03. Castle Roogna, Del Rey 1979
04. Centaur Aisle, Del Rey 1982
05. Ogre, Ogre, Del Rey 1982
06. Night Mare, Del Rey 1983
07. Dragon on a Pedestal, Del Rey 1983
08. Crewel Lye, Del Rey 1985
09. Golem in the Gears, Del Rey 1986
10. Vale of the Vole, Avon 1987, TOR 2000
11. Heaven Cent, Avon 1988, TOR 2000
12. Man From Mundania, Avon 1989, TOR 2000
13. Isle of View, Morrow HC Avon 1990
14. Question Quest, Morrow Avon 1991
15. The Color of Her Panties, Avon 1992
16. Demons Don't Dream, Tor 1993
17. Harpy Thyme, Tor 1994
18. Geis of the Gargoyle, Tor 1995
19. Roc and a Hard Place, Tor 1995
20. Yon Ill Wind, Tor 1996
21. Faun & Games, Tor 1997
22. Zombie Lover, Tor 1998
23. Xone of Contention, Tor 1999
24. The Dastard, Tor 2000
25. Swell Foop, Tor 2001
26. Up in a Heaval, Tor 2002
27. Cube Route, Tor 2003
28. Currant Events, Tor 2004
29. Pet Peeve, Tor 2005
30. Stork Naked, Tor 2006
31. Air Apparent, Tor 2007

32. Two to the Fifth, Tor 2008

33. Jumper Cable, Tor 2009
34. Gnot Gneiss, 2010
35. Well-Tempered Clavicle
36. (and more to come)

If you would like to see a map of Xanth, click here
    If you would like to see a map of Xanth landmarks, click here


Please visit Piers Anthony's official Xanth homepage!
(he has a link to my site on his links page - how awesome is that?)

The Official Piers Anthony Homepage

Autobiography of Piers Anthony
(written, of course, by Piers Anthony, whose website is here)



I was born in Oxford, England, in AwGhost, 1934. My parents both graduated from the University of Oxford, but I was slow from the outset. I spent time with relatives and a nanny while my parents went to do relief work in Spain during the Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939. They were helping to feed the children rendered hungry by the devastation of the war. When that ended, my sister and I joined them in Spain. I left my native country at the age of four -- and never returned. The new government of General Franco in Spain, evidently error-prone and suspicious of foreigners doing good works, arrested my father in 1940. They refused to admit that they had done so, making him in effect a "disappeared" person, but he was able to smuggle out a note. Then rather than admit error, they let him out on condition that he leave the country. World War II was then in progress, so instead of returning to England, we went to my father's country. In this manner I came to America at age six, on what I believe was the last ship out. Though I was too young to understand what was going on, in time I learned, and I retain, an abiding hostility to dictatorships. My parents' marriage grew strained and finally foundered.

Suffering the consequences of separation from my first country and my second country as well as the stress of a family going wrong, I showed an assortment of complications such as nervous tics of head and hands, bed-wetting, and inability to learn. It required three years and five schools to get me through first grade. I later gained intellectual ground, but lost physical ground. When I entered my ninth school in ninth grade I was at the proper level but not the proper size, being the smallest person, male or female, in my class. However, boarding school, and later college, became a better home for me than what I had had, and I managed to grow almost another foot by the time I got my BA in Writing at Goddard College, Vermont, in 1956. This was just as well, because I married a tall girl I met in college; I had to grow, literally, to meet the challenge.

I had the hodgepodge of employments typical of writers. Of about fifteen types of work I tried, ranging from aide at a mental hospital to technical writer at an electronics company, only one truly appealed: the least successful. But the dream remained. Finally in 1962 my wife agreed to go to work for a year, so that I could stay home and try to write fiction full time. The agreement was that if I did not manage to sell anything, I would give up the dream and focus on supporting my family. As it happened, I sold two stories, earning $160. But such success seemed inadequate to earn a living. So I became an English teacher, didn't like that either, and in 1966 retired again to writing. This time I wrote novels instead of stories, and with them I was able to earn a living. As with the rest of my life, progress was slow, but a decade later I got into light fantasy with the first of my ongoing Xanth series of novels, A Spell For Chameleon, and that proved to be the golden ring. My sales and income soared, and I became one of the most successful writers of the genre, with twenty-one New York Times paperback bestsellers in the space of a decade. This enabled me to send our two daughters to college, and drove the wolf quite far from our door. We now live on a tree farm, and would love to have a wolf by our door, but do have deer and wild cat and other wildlife. I am an environmentalist. My autobiography to age 50, Bio of An Ogre, is now in print; there may be a sequel, How Precious Was That While, in due course. At that time I had had 50 books published, now it is over 100.

But a writer does not live by frivolous fantasy alone. Today I am turning back to serious writing with direct comment on sexual abuse in Firefly, and on history in novels like Tatham Mound, which relates to the fate of American Indians, and my GEODYSSEY series, covering man's past three and a half million years to the present, and Volk, which shows love and death in Civil War Spain and World War II Germany. So I close the circle, returning in my writing to the realm I left as a child. My literary personality is splitting, with the fantasy paying my way in Caesar's coin, and the historical research addressing the god of this agnostic. There has always been a serious side to my writing, even in my fantasy, and my readers respond to it. I answer a hundred to two hundred letters a month, so remain in close touch with them. They tell me that I have taught many of them to read, by showing them that reading could be fun, and that I have saved the lives of some, by addressing concerns such as suicide. So I date my letters with my fantasy months, such as "AwGhost," "OctOgre," and "FeBlueberry," but take my readers as seriously as I take my writing. A number of them are now becoming collaborators, in a series of joint novels I am doing. In fact I am a workaholic, and I love my profession. I have, of course, an ongoing battle with critics, who choose to see only the frivolous level; it is doubtful whether my work will ever in my lifetime receive much critical applause, but I believe in its validity for the longer haul. So do my readers.

   
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