The crafting of a novel length tale is a daunting task, made even more intimidating as one discovers all the rules of writing a “proper” manuscript. The old adage – The more you learn, the more you realize there is to learn – definitely rings true. We have the fundamentals: grammar, punctuation, pacing, description, dialogue (and so on and so forth), that a writer is trying to balance whilst also expressing their unique ideas and imagination. I learned early on that if I was to strictly adhere to every single rule of writing, my story would be a stark, lifeless thing. Don’t get me wrong, the rules are there for a reason. They keep things coherent; and the whole aim of this is to clearly express your story to your readers. But when I was young, and just tearing through books, I always found myself wanting more. I wanted more vivid descriptions, more intense action, more “stuff” than a “standard” novel had shoved into it.
I realized that if I was going to craft my own story: I’m gonna have to break the rules!
Phate was a reaction, a response to my instincts of what a fantastical story should entail. I dreamed big and bold, and I wanted my story to reflect that. I called it “The Cosmic Fairytale” because I wanted to people to get an inkling that if they dared to delve into my book, anything would be possible. The universe was wide open, and a fairytale seemed more suited to my style than to simply call it epic fantasy. It suggests that the traditional constraints of contemporary fantasy novels would hold little sway in what Phate would bring to the table. I didn’t write it to fall into any genre. I wanted it to be its own beast. I mingled science fiction with fantasy, but I absolutely did not attempt to write “science fantasy.” It just so happens that with Phate, ghostly, cybernetic beings from other worlds confront necromancers and spirit elves. But I didn’t want this meeting of totally different beings to be jarring; I wanted it to all feel like a part of one, seamless universe. So, while I’m well aware of what has come before, and what I’m supposed to do, I never let it stifle my style. I was aware of the “rules”…but that didn’t stop me from breaking them!
I let my heart do the talking; I followed my instinct; and let my imagination soar unfettered.
Phate is only what it could have been – a pure expression, and, for that, I shall be eternally pleased with its inception.
There’s another saying – Live each day as if it were your last. Well, in a sense, I wrote each chapter as if it were my last! I wanted each chapter to be a story in itself, tied to the greater picture. I wanted each chapter to hold the emotional intensity that I felt many books waited until their ends to unleash. Phate was written to be experienced, to be moving, intense. I wrote it to be cinematic, with the hopes of instilling the reader with a feeling that they were there, right in the thick of a wild ride. The stars mingle with worlds, and angels fly alongside of dragons, and dreams are things that are tangible to the touch…
It’s all quite a whimsical notion, I suppose, but it’s one I firmly held onto during the creation of Phate.
I so look forward to your thoughts on it, and hope it brings something new, while tapping into the poetic voices of old.
Thank you so much, friends, for spending some moments with me!
I’ll leave you know with a bit from the manuscript, from a character we met in our last installment. Let the Fallen Angel now tell you something of a distant world, in a time long from now….
“And the great civilizations were totally destroyed. Where are the armies, the warriors, you wonder? When the Dark Forever came, the iron skull dwarves disappeared, their silver forges purged from the Mountains of Might. The shadowlight elves, with their invisible wizards and flights of translucent dragons, were driven away, their crystal forests wiped into extinction. Vu Verian’s people, the sky elves, defeated and reeling, abandoned Phate for the stars, seeking solace on some distant world. And the deep elves, their minds over time delving into darkness as their cities sank into the seas, forsook the light that birthed them and claimed allegiance to the demon lords. Now they are as good as gone…
“Yes, Drinwor, Phate’s history is a story of tremendous loss. It’s a terrible shame. So many civilizations, so many cities… crumbled like the pages of the books that held their accounts.”
With a thoughtful look on his face, Drinwor asked, “If the destruction was so complete, then how come the Dark Forever isn’t here? I mean… it sounds like they won. What happened?”
The angel seemed to exhale as if with mortal breath. “Just as defeat was imminent, Drakana, the One Life, unleashed the full power of the One Sword. A great blast issued forth, countless millions of demons were slain, and what was left of the Devil King’s army was forced back into the Dark Forever. But, as the fates would have it, when Surassis expelled its energy, the Devil King himself had not yet fully stepped into the primary universe. He was wounded, banished, but not destroyed. And thus, the bane of the universe endures.” She took a moment, moaned as if in pain. “The One Life used the power too soon, but it was not his fault. He had no choice, for Phate was all but lost.”
Drinwor’s eyes glittered with visions of what it must have been like, so long ago. He whispered: “And now?”
“Now, hope is a thing remembered, not a thing realized…”
At that moment, the phantom flutes rose up and the spirit elves began to sing. Dragon cries filtered down from the chamber’s upper reaches and the angel’s light shone as brightly as ever. Drinwor’s face was washed with warmth. His eyes glistened and he felt a burning inside, a wanting to unleash all those feelings, old and new, that had him so unsettled. Unmistakably, the angel’s words had awakened something within him and, in that moment, he felt a small inkling of his potential power.