Dinosaur Novels Novels & Stories

The walls were warm white with one side paneled in light wood, a thick soft-gray rug covered the floor, low shelves sat at exactly the right height for a four-year-old, and in the middle of the room was a small vintage race-car bed, not the obnoxious bright-red plastic kind that made children’s bedrooms look like toy showrooms, but dark graphite with brown leather details and a small number on the side. There was a low reading nook by the window with navy cushions. The shelf beside it held several dinosaur books. And dinosaurs. A lot of dinosaurs. A large green T-Rex stood near the shelf, a triceratops beneath it, and a velociraptor creepy enough that I already knew Aiden would fall in love.

"Dad, you wanna see my room? I have dinosaur posters and everything!" "Lead the way, buddy." "It's not technically his room," Hazel called after us. "It's the guest room he's claimed as his kingdom." Ethan dragged me down the hallway, pushing open a door to reveal a small room dominated by a twin bed covered in dinosaur sheets. Posters of various prehistoric creatures covered the walls, and a bookshelf overflowed with picture books and toy cars. "See? This is a Brachiosaurus." He pointed at one poster. "And that's a Stegosaurus. And that one's a Pteranodon, but it's not technically a dinosaur, it's a flying reptile."

Max set the triceratops beside her pillow. Colt was the last to enter. He walked to Emory's bedside and stood there for a long moment, his drawings clutched against his chest. "Hi, Emory," he whispered. "It's me. Colt. I brought more pictures. This one is a Brachiosaurus. It's the tallest dinosaur ever. And this one is a Stegosaurus. It has plates on its back to protect it from predators." He set the drawings on the table. "Everyone at school misses you. Ms. Patterson said we could come visit. Ruby made a card. Max brought a triceratops. It's very big. Almost as big as a real one."

"No. More book. Elephant book." "We already read the elephant book. Twice." She considered this. "Cat book?" "We read the cat book too." "Bella pick." She climbed off my lap, went to her bookshelf, returned with a book about dinosaurs we'd never read before. "This one?" I asked. "Bella pick. Dino book." We read the dinosaur book. She listened intently, pointed at each dinosaur, attempted to pronounce their names. "T-Rex," I said. "Rex," she repeated clearly.

Maryann appeared with a bag of snacks and water bottles, which Nikolai stowed in the footwell. "You all have fun," she said, leaning in to kiss Pascal's forehead. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." The drive to the Velmore Natural History Museum took forty minutes, and Pascal talked for thirty-seven of them. He recited dinosaur facts he'd memorized from his books, asked whether they'd see the new Triceratops skeleton exhibit, wondered if the gift shop would have the Spinosaurus model he'd been wanting, speculated about which dinosaur would win in a fight between a Stegosaurus and an Allosaurus.

I made my way across the classroom, weaving between tiny tables and chairs until I spotted Alexander and Ethan hunched over sheets of paper, crayons scattered around them like confetti. "Mama!" Ethan looked up with a grin, his hands stained various shades of blue and green. "You're early!" "I finished work early today," I said, crouching down to their level. "What are you two creating?" "Dinosaur families," Alexander announced proudly, holding up his drawing. "This one is a mama T-Rex and her babies. They live in a volcano." "And mine is a brontosaurus family having a picnic," Ethan added, pointing to his more carefully detailed drawing. "They're vegetarians, so they're very peaceful."

Building a stegosaurus with our son. “What’s this one?” Eli held up a piece with sharp ridges. “That’s a stegosaurus. See the plates on its back?” “Why does it have plates?” “For protection. And maybe to look cool.” Eli giggled. “Dinosaurs don’t care about looking cool.” “Everyone cares about looking cool, buddy. Even dinosaurs.” I turned back to the sink so they wouldn’t catch me watching too closely. But I couldn’t stop listening. By midmorning, the puzzle was forgotten and a book had taken its place. Damien read slowly, sounding out the world in a way that made Eli lean into his side, chin tilted up, eyes wide with the kind of attention only children give freely.

"Papa said I should let Margot do it but I wanted to pick them myself. White ones because they look clean and happy." My chest ached with sudden fierce tenderness. "They're perfect, Noe. Thank you." He grinned, satisfied, then climbed onto the reading chair by the window with the unconscious ease of a child who'd never been told not to. "Margot said you have a favorite dinosaur. What is it?" "Brachiosaurus. The big ones with the long necks." His eyes went wide. "That's not even a top-five answer! Everyone always says T-Rex or Velociraptor. You're the first person who ever said Brachiosaurus!" He looked at me with renewed respect. "Why that one?"

From time to time, her guards would check on her, their loyalty plainly obvious as well as their concern. Nicholas sat cross-legged on one of the low tables near the far wall. Where Seraphina is. Every single one of his dinosaurs were all there. Tyrannosaurus. Triceratops. Velociraptors. A stegosaurus missing one plate. Even the long-necked brachiosaurus he insisted was “the oldest one, so he gets to decide things.” He carefully arranged them in two uneven lines facing each other. Then he leaned forward, completely immersed.

His work has also appeared in several short story anthologies and online literary magazines. Phil Hore Phil likes to point out he was one of the last children born before man walked on the moon. He’s worked at Australia’s National Dinosaur Museum, the Australian War Memorial, National Film and Sound Archives, the Australian National Botanic Gardens, London’s Natural History Museum, the Field Museum in Chicago and The Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History. Published in newspapers and magazines across the globe, Phil is the paleo-author for the world’s longest running dinosaur magazine, The Prehistoric Times. He’s also been a comic shop manager, a cinema projectionist, a theatre tec