So much of our literature concerns itself with the mythical heroes charged with preventing the end of the world. By making us privy to their struggles, both intimate and cosmos-broad, this subgenre of the entertainment industry has allowed us to know the good guys quite intimately.
But what about the folks who don’t get picked to the team?
I’m not talking about no bad guys or evil-doers; they’re already comfortably nestled in their own cinematic nook. I’m thinking about the people who, much as they are good guys, end up on the wrong side of history.
The hero is always the hero, or failing that, at least a compelling bad guy. I wanted to write a story where the main characters are destined to destroy the world, not save it. Even if they’re good guys. Even if they think they’re saving the world.
When people ask me how I got the idea for Hearthender, I tell them it was sitting on a beach off the Spanish coast, reading Robin Hobb books, and thinking I could do better.
Truth? It started with that what if. It started with a story I wanted to read, but couldn’t find anybody telling it.
Hearthender is the first book in the upcoming Warhound Series, a fantasy trilogy dealing with a demented Oracle, who preaches the destruction of Amagiraea at any cost.
Instead of focusing on a solo protagonist, the book shifts from character to character, as to give the reader a more well-rounded view of the action. There’s Prince Adelras of Amagiraea who, at 24, hopes desperately he’ll measure up to his once mighty father.
There’s a young mother, lives in the Untamed Lands, with nightmares of the terror that lives on the bottom of Mourner’s Lake. Only, word of her visions has travelled far, and spawned talk of witchcraft, forcing young Abiny from her hearth.
Eryk’s the captain of the Warhound, and has guarded Amagiraean shores for decades. Except the long-awaited sight of danger on the horizon finds him frustratingly under-prepared. And there’s the Raconteur, tasked with boarding the Warhound, and brokering an alliance with the shell-faced, oddly-limbed Seadwellers of Sea’s Edge.
There’s a couple more people, but I’ll leave you to discover them as you go along.
Because I wrote it, and gave it all those hours and blood and tears.
…seems like the obvious answer, but it’s not.
I’ve been reading fantasy and sci-fi ever since I can remember, and in doing so, have found a couple of things that grate.
Long drawn-out battle scenes that sprawl across several pages — I can’t abide them. I lose interest in paragraphs of the “he kicked, but then the duke parried, bringing out his cudgel, and coming from behind” variety. They leave my mind to wander, and I don’t want that from a good, gripping fantasy book.
So while Hearthender is an adventure fantasy novel, it’s a lot more of a why book than it is a how book.
It’s complex magic realm meets the ole human nitty-gritty — I adore complex magic systems in the art I consume. That being said, I can’t stand it when an author goes into minute, painstaking detail as to the how everything’s happening. I think fantasy books are fantasy for a reason, and so take it for granted that if it’s your world, this insane magic trick you’re describing works by default.
Hearthender has got that. Magic of my favorite kind, aka with a view of the overarching, twisted desires of the cosmos. It’s got prescience, unusually gifted warriors, macabre deserts, and parallel universes, all of which are literary porn to a nerd like me.
So much of the writing advice peddled to young authors insists on defining and refining a ‘writing voice’.
I don’t have a voice.
I wouldn’t know where to start, so instead, I’m a what you see is what you get type. I don’t have a special voice for here, and I don’t have a special voice for my book, either. It’s more like differing tones of “me telling a post on Hive”, and “me telling a story on your Kindle”.
So if you like what I write on here, and typically enjoy adventure, high fantasy, magic, sci-fi, and anything in the vicinity of those genres, there’s a good chance you’ll like Hearthender.
It’s on sale.
Ah, speaking of magic (words), eh? For a little while now, Hearthender only sets you back $1.99 (e-book), and at 400 pages of that small-ish, squinty writing, I’d say that’s good bang for your buck.
Obviously, money matters. If someone tells you it doesn’t, it’s just ’cause they haven’t got it. I ain’t got it, either, but at least I’m honest.
Truth is, money isn’t the most important thing, nor should it be. Once you start eyeing the money, you’ve lost focus of the art. So in as much as money can be unimportant, it’s not the main thing for me.
I won’t get rich off of two bucks, and you won’t get poor, but I do hope you read it. Because it’s a good fucking book, and I’m damn proud of it.
Hearthender is, like pretty much anything these days, available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback formats.
It is also available, as an e-book, on Apple Books, Kobo, Smashwords, and online, at bookstores like Barnes&Noble and Mondadori. You can find all of those and more here.
As I said, it’s $1.99 for now, but will eventually go back to its normal price $4.99. The paperback’s $19.99.
Dreamsurfer (Book Two of the Warhound Series) is also available for pre-order on Amazon and the other web stores listed above, as an e-book, and is slated to come out December 4th.
Finally, Skydiver (Book Three of the Warhound Series) can be pre-ordered at Amazon and the other stores, also, and is coming out March 4th 2024, so precisely six months from now.
