Mightier than the Sword - A Part of the Aidan Moher Network

The other day I was in the bookstore, as I often am, taking part in, I think, a pasttime of many aspiring writers. Mainly, picking up random books from the shelves, flipping through them for a few minutes, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration and yelling “Why is this schlock published and I’m not?! I’m a way better writer!”

I repeat this process several times and then, in frustration, pick up a book (which generally is better than anything I can write. Hello Joe Abercrombie!) and storm off to the till to pay, eager to get home and wallow in the sorrows of my unpublished life.

But the most recent time I took part in my favourite past-time, I was hit with a rather large, sweaty epiphany. In fact, I now understand, quite clearly, why these authors are published and I am not; I understand what they’ve done to get a foot up.

They’ve finished their novel.

Seriously, it’s the single most important thing an author can do to get themselves on the road to being a published and (hopefully) successful author. A finished, mediocre novel has a hell of a lot of a better chance of getting published than a half-finished, albeit brilliant, manuscript. Now, the fun is in combining to two and coming up with a manuscript which is not only finished… but also brilliant. I’ll let you know when I succeed.

Any writer knows it’s easy to start a project, ideas in your head just bursting at the seams, screaming for a chance to be put to paper. Your pen flows freely for the first paragraph, the first page, the first act… but then, it all dries up. Maybe you haven’t spent enough time preplanning and you’ve written yourself into a corner; maybe your idea just wasn’t very good in the first place; maybe you’ve come up with an even better idea and that’s now getting all of your attention. Whatever the reason, that manuscript gets regulated to the back of the closet and any chance of it being published goes from slim (if we’re being honest with ourselves, no matter the quality of the work) to basically none.

A sad fate indeed for an idea which once spurred on such excitement in the author. It’s happened to me… hell, it’s happened to everyone, I’m sure.

So, with this in mind, I’m gonna try my damnedest to make sure I finish Rowan’s story, to tell it as it needs to be told and to make sure I stay interested in it by being innovative and creative with my writing, and, most importantly, having fun telling her story. And well, who knows, by finishing it… I might just walk into my favourite book store, two years from now and watch some other aspiring writer, my novel in their hands, cursing the dreck lining the shelves.

Well, I’m happier than a pig in shit at the moment.

Last night I opened up my RSS reader, ready to catch up on all the news for the day… and proceeded to fall out of my chair. You see, I stumbled, completely out of the blue, on the first review of one of my stories!

Aaron, the muse over at The Soulless Machine Review, a web site dedicated to reviewing the lost art of short fiction, stumbled across one of the pieces of short fiction, Ferry Traffic, I have posted as a free download on my main web site and seemed to have liked what he found!

I have to admit that I’m rather humbled at the thought that he enjoyed the piece enough to feel the urge to let others know about it. It gives me that little kick in the ass of confidence that’s so important to aspiring writers.

So, I just wanted to give a big shout out and a public thanks to Aaron (check out his blog!) for helping this aspiring writer out. God knows I need it!

For those interested, you can find Aaron’s review HERE and the free downloadable copy of Ferry Traffic HERE.

Shawn Speakman, fellow author and a good friend of mine, asked me in the comments of an earlier post whether I was still enjoying writing from the perspective of a female. This is actually a pretty interesting subject and something I think is integral to my novel and my growth of a writer.

Shawn’s making reference to Rowan Hayes, the protagonist of my novel, someone who he (and a few of my other close friends) have had the chance to meet. Now, I don’t know what Shawn thought of Rowan as a character, but I sure know what I think, and, ultimately, I <em>am</em> still enjoying the practice of writing from the perspective of humanity’s better half, despite the obvious difficulties thrust upon me by being male.

This decision hasn’t necessarily been easy for me (it’s hard enough to write effective first-person narrative, doubly so when you’re trying to interpret the alien thoughts of the opposite sex), but it has been a challenge that I’ve met head on and have been enjoying.

To be honest, Rowan is hardly the first female through who’s eyes and thoughts I’ve told a story. In fact, I find most of the time that when I sit down to tell someone’s story it often turns out to be a female. I’d have a hard time describing why this is the case;, though I suppose, in general, it simply comes down to the fact that I find women and the way their minds work to be much more dynamic and interesting than my own sex. Hell, if I put half the energy into writing my novel as I do interpreting the thoughts and actions of my mother and girlfriend, I’d surely have a bestseller on my hands!

Beyond my interested in the challenge of writing with an opposite-gendered protagonist, my story also calls for a female lead for many plot related reasons. The foremost of these is that the basic plot revolves around Rowan’s search for her lost son; a bastard son, begotten during an early life tryst between Rowan and a Faerie. I think the decision was rather obvious that, to tell this story effectively, Rowan had to be a female. It’s my estimation that you can’t find a human bond stronger than that between a single mother and her child. That maternal bond is much of what drives Rowan through the vicissitudes of the novel and  gives her the strength to put up with all the weird shit she encounters along her path to saving her son.

One aspect of Rowan’s personality that surprised me the most, when it finally came time to sit down and actually <em>write</em>, was the deeply conflicted and self-deprecating humour that gave Rowan so much of her ability to put things into perspective. In fact, that ability to meet life with a defiant streak of black humour is the main force behind Rowan’s ability to deal with events that most people would simply run from. Almost as soon as I started typing out the actual story, Rowan came to life and took control of the story. Despite death, magic, and myriad Faeries, Rowan always seems able to find a refreshing way of looking at the situation that not even I, as the author of Rowan’s story, would necessarily be able to accomplish.

I think this is one of the most compelling things about being an author, to be honest. Rowan isn’t me. At all. Perhaps she is parts of me. Perhaps she exemplifies who I <em>want</em> to be. But she is not me. In many ways, I’m writing my story in an attempt to find out who she really is and why she’s worth knowing. I’m looking to discover, along with my readers, just what it is that makes Rowan who she is and who she will become.

She is, I think, ultimately a very likable and relatable protagonist, a person whom I think everyone, male and female alike, will enjoy reading about. If Rowan is who I think she is, I imagine women will find a protagonist they can be proud of: a young flawed woman fighting against fate, sacrificing all for her small family. On the flip side, I think men will find a protagonist that they will have no choice but to respect: a young, fiery woman with a mind and personality of her own and not afraid to get her hands dirty – the type of woman every man secretly lusts after.

Will Rowan really be as interesting as I think she is? I’m sure banking on it. I can only hope that my readers will be as attracted to her as I am, that they’ll fall in love with her as deeply as I have. I want my readers to feel Rowan’s pain; to laugh with her laughter; to feel her tears trickle down their own cheeks; to be filled with the same sense of wonder and discover as they see the Fey world and its inhabitants through her eyes.

My novel – as proud as I am of the plot, the world and the secondary characters I’ve created – hinges completely on Rowan Hayes. And you know what? I think she’s up to the task. In fact, there’s no one I’d rather have lead my novel. Hers is a story of love, perseverance, wonder and magic, each an attribute that I hope my readers will attach to Rowan when things are said and done.

I suppose most folk would look at my current project, the story of Rowan Hayes and the Fey World she stumbles into, and call it an Urban Fantasy, it’s got all the trappings – a magical romp, much of which takes place in our world – but I don’t really think that calling it such really captures the essence of the story I’m telling. Instead, I prefer to think of it as a Modern Day Faerie Tale, which sounds much more pretentious than it actually is.

So why the distinction? For people who follow my other blog, A Dribble of Ink, it might seem especially strange that I’m so picky about the sub-genre under which my story falls – I’m rather outspoken in thinking that it’s fucking nuts how deep and obtuse the sub-genre’s in SF and Fantasy go… it’s like we’re a bunch of metalheads. That being said, I think the Urban Fantasy is generally viewed, at least by the audience that has made Jim Butcher and Laurel K. Hamilton so damn popular, as being very similar to serialized crime fiction (a gritty, singular character around whom each novel revolves, battling against a secret underworld of magic that us regular civilians are blissfully unaware of, maybe solving a crime or two along the way) only with some magical elements thrown in to spice things up.

My novel, despite taking place (for the most part) in our world, and having magical elements thrown in for shits and giggles (not really, they actually drive the story and couldn’t be removed, even forcibly against my will), is very different than the average Urban Fantasy, in fact, I feel that it’s as different from The Dresden Files as it is from The Lord of the Rings. Big words, I suppose, from an aspiring writer, but I think it would be dishonest to call a horse anything other than a horse. I could call it an Urban Fantasy and try to jump on the bandwagon, but really… I’d just be fooling everyone. Myself included.

So, why a Modern Day Faerie Tale instead of an Urban Fantasy?

Well, it has faeries, for one thing. And a lot of them. In fact, a large portion of the novel takes place in the Fey lands so closely associated with Irish legend and lore. The faerie creatures (and they aren’t all just little pixie dusting, winged beings, either. I get to have fun with it. Just wait until you meet Fítheal…) are more than just set pieces. They’re characters as important as any of the humans, more important perhaps, and I’ll try my damnedest to make the reader care about them, believe in them, just as strongly as they do for Rowan and the other human characters.

Another big theme of the novel is travel and discovery. Rowan is travelling in a new land and constantly discovering things (places, people, magic, emotions within herself) that she never really knew existed. I hope to instill the reader, through Rowan, with a sense of wonder as they read the novel and experience the Fey world and its inhabitants alongside Rowan.

In many ways, what I’m trying to do reminds me a lot of Fantasy movies from the eighties, such as Labyrinth, The Neverending Story and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (yes, yes I know they were also novels, but I first experienced as movies. Back you devils, back! *cracks whip*): a young, naive protagonist thrown in well over her head, relying on charismatic, but questionable companions and having to find a deep well within themselves to find the strength to deal with a strange new world.

Has this been done before? Sure, stories about a person from our world being transported to Fantasyland are as old as storytelling. Has my version of it been told before? No. I wouldn’t say it has. But my job is to make you feel like you’ve never read it before, to bring back memories of the first time you cracked open a story.

Setting the bar a little high, perhaps? Sure. But you’ve got to dream big, right? You’re not going to reach the stars if your only aim for the clouds.

Rowan’s got a heck of an adventure ahead of her and I hope that my readers will marvel at the sights, laugh at the jokes and feel their heart wrench just as strongly as Rowan does. If that happens, well, I’ve done my job. If it doesn’t, well, that’s another story.

I suppose a compelling and important reason some of you may continue to read this blog is less because of any potential story I may write (I’m essentially no different than any other wannabe-writer, in that sense) but rather who I am and what I bring to the table that other bloggers/writers don’t.

As such, I should probably spell out, at least a little bit, who I believe myself to be.

An important aspect in who I’ve become and where I yet have to go, perhaps the most important aspect, is that I grew up on a small, quiet island on the west coast of Canada and, as such, led a very free childhood, safe from many of the dangers of living in a city.

This freedom was integral in letting my imagination grow and flourish as a young child. I spent countless afternoons lost in the wild ravages of the forest that borders my backyard (much smaller now than I remember it, and occupied by several houses) – slaying monsters, being a cop… being a robber, piloting a spaceship (and let me tell you, it takes one heck on an imagination to turn a living forest into the cockpit of an interstellar cruiser!) and anything else that popped up in the novels I was reading.

And there it is, reading, the driving force behind much of my childhood. Ever since I can remember, I’ve had a book in my hand. Usually fiction, sometimes not. Through the early years of my schooling I would often get in trouble for, get this… reading above my age level. I had one teacher in particular who contacted my parents with concerns that I wasn’t developing properly because I was reading “chapter books” instead of picture books like the rest of my classmates.

I’m still trying to figure out how this is a bad thing, but apparently it was. It didn’t stop me from reading, though.

Tom Swift. Jurassic Park. Congo. The Hardy Brothers. Encyclopedia Brown. Goosebumps.

Whatever I could get my hands on, I would read. Hell, in Grade 4, during class discussion on whatever novel we were supposed to be reading, I’d have one eye on Jurassic Park and the other on the class. My teachers didn’t like it, but I suppose there are worse sins in school than reading too much.

You’ll notice that the list of novels up there might seem a little odd for an aspiring fantasy novelist. There’s no fantasy. In fact, as a little kid I had a irrational dislike for the fantasy genre. I had made up my little mind that Fantasy was prissy. Nothing but Unicorns, princesses and Faeries. Not nearly as interesting as laser guns, dinosaurs and murders.

I was happily ignorant until about the age of 11 when I finally discovered The Hobbit and realized how much I was missing. I dove into Tolkien’s world and haven’t looked back since. I still feel like I haven’t explored even a smidgen of what the Fantasy (and really the speculative fiction genre as a whole) has to offer. But I’m damn determined to remedy that.

High School came and went and I could generally be found with my nose buried in a novel (in and out of class), but somehow still managed to avoid being typecast as a nerd. Writing had always been important to me throughout elementary school – I still remember writing my first story, it was about a caterpillar. Another one that sticks out in my mind is the story of a hedgehog who lived on Mt. Olympus… ahh, the mind and imagination child never fails to impress! – but it was in high school, and one teacher in particular, that really helped me discover that writing was what I wanted to do with my life.

Unlike many teachers in the school system, Mrs. Miller wanted me to succeed. She pushed me and encouraged me and helped me believe I really could be a writer. I learned a couple of years later that she often mentions me to her new classes, saying I was one of the best writers she’s ever taught.

Haughty words, and I’m not sure whether I believe them or not, but it shows that she believed in me and that, in my mind, is the most important thing in the world.

Belief in yourself as a writer and belief in the story your writing are, to my mind, the only essential tools a writer needs. The words will come, you just have to be confident enough to listen for them.

This lust for writing has continued to grow and that is where you find me now, writing and conceptualizing, meeting characters and dreaming, scratching out any piece of spare time in which to write. Is it time well spent? I dunno and probably won’t know until I’m a feeble old man, sitting at a desk, pen in hand, scribbling a story for the enjoyment of myself and, hopefully, a cadre of others.

Who am I? Why do I write? And Why should you give a damn?

All good questions and I’ll do my best to answer them.

A Dribble of Ink, my other blog, is something I’m extremely passionate about, something I’m very proud of. The problem, however, and the reason that this blog now exists, is that I decided early on in the life of A Dribble of Ink that I was going keep most of my personal life out of it. My readers, for the most part, are there to learn about the Fantasy and Science Fiction fields, not my own piddling writing career.

But, I like to write and I like to talk about my writing. That’s where Mightier than the Sword comes into play. Spurred on by my good friend, Shawn Speakman, I decided it was time to find an outlet for my musings on the craft of writing and a place where I could show those who care a little piece of my world. Mightier than the Sword will be a more personal blog than A Dribble of Ink and I hope you’ll enjoy learning more about me, the way I approach writing, and the stories that find themselves stuck in my head.

Most of all, though, Mightier than the Sword, is a place where I can think out loud; a place to let me throw ideas around and force myself to look at them in a coherent and sensible manner. I’ve alway found that discussing aspects of my writing, even just outloud to myself, is the best way to find the flaws and solve the problems I might be having.

Hopefully you’ll enjoy the ride with me and who knows, maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually finish this novel I’m writing…. But more on that later.