You never forget your first. First car, first kiss, first time stealing a shopping cart and rolling down the biggest hill in town (Just me? Anyway.)
The Deathbringer was the first story I ever published.
I think you’ll find that most fiction writers have a story about wanting to be a writer all their lives. I have always enjoyed writing a story for English class projects or what-have-you, but I never considered actually sitting down and writing a full length novel with intention of sending out for publication. Until one fateful day in 2007. December, to be exact.
It was the beginning of one of those snowstorms that is destined to become legendary. Three straight days of powder draping every inch of the city in a cold, white blanket. All told, by the time the sky cleared up, there was about 38 inches on the ground—and that was just in the midland region of New Hampshire. The mountain region a little further north got trounced with over 50 inches of snow. Yeah…. legendary.
I was just a lad trying to pay the bills of my tiny one bedroom apartment, and I ply my trade at Target to make end’s meet. But with that much snow on the ground making traveling anywhere in a four wheeled vehicle a nightmare, I was forced to call out and be pinned in my tiny little flat.
By the afternoon of the second day, I was getting a mad sense of cabin fever. So I decided to walk about seven blocks down Main Street to get a sub from Subway. The way the snow was flying and the sidewalks were entrenched in snow and slush, you would have thought I was hiking through Siberia for an elk to shoot just to get some nourishment. But it was laboring or burdensome—this hike through the snow to get a sandwich had turned cathartic, and the experience was turning the gears of my creativity.
When I got home, I sat down at the desk and just started typing…
That is my writer’s origin story. I was a 22 year old snowbound by a nor’easter who just wanted a sandwich.
The result of all that typing was The Deathbringer, a classic fantasy adventure about finding hope in the impending doom.
The working title was “Schara”, who turned out to be the titular “death bringer”, though the name is only dropped once, and not until the last chapter.
I had originally planned to name it “The Dark One”, but during the year-plus long journey it took to write the first draft, I ran across many instances of “dark ones” from different sources. And I quickly realized this distinction had been played one too many times before. If I this was going to be my first instance of writing something to the public, I had to come correct without retreading a tired idea. The Deathbringer was a worthy rebrand.
The biggest influence for this book was a heaping helping of Final Fantasy with an aftertaste of Lord of the Rings. Yeah, really stretching out of the box for that first one. But the clear definition and categorization of power instilled by Final Fantasy and the storytelling properties of LotR, while not exactly nuanced, maintain to be a potent source of inspiration.
There are a handful of themes at play including vengeance, preservation, and discovery. But I think the most prevalent ends up being redemption and worth. Tatum is this forthright and dutiful member of the Laigosha army, and when he and his counterpart Zackarius are the only survivors of the kingdomwide destruction by fire he has to duel his inner demons that convince him this tragedy is somehow his fault. And he sees that the only way to do that is to protect and prevent the same cataclysm from befalling the neighboring countries.
My sister once said this book reads like two different stories, probably because “act 1” sees the doom and gloom while “act 2” focuses a lot more on the prevention and trying to gain acceptance in a hostile land.
I learned a great deal about writing since I wrote this story, but I think the thing I still carry forth from this book is character growth. The second act introduces the Koren sisters—three sisters who share the throne of Koren, a land that had warred with Laigosha a decade before. Tatum and Zackarius come with a warning, and I think it was interesting seeing how each of the sisters responded to the warning of doomsday. And watching the personalities clash in the precursor to the big final fight ended up being one of the most fun set of chapters to write. This may have been the first sign that I would be, and still am, a character first style of writer.
I intended to write a trilogy, even titled the series “Magnae Mortis” (Latin for “great death”, natch)… because, you know, Latin totally exists in this completely made up world. But it wasn’t long into the sequel before I realized I was writing the same exact story over again. Deathbringer rains destruction, Heroes give chase, Deathbringer rains destruction, Heroes give chase… I couldn’t write that again. Then it became impossible to fix, so the world of Magnae Mortis never expanded past one story.
The cover was designed by my sister Erin. She is an artist. She has a website. Go there. Now.
Wow, this all sounds epic, you say? Well, I’m afraid to be the bearer of bad news, but this title is currently unavailable. It is in drastic need of an edit with a fine-toothed comb to get the egregious “first story” errors peeled off of it, first and foremost. Then there needs to be a more satisfying overhaul to the ending to make the ambiguousness of more open ended and less “just wait for the next one!”
…Or maybe I’ll just find a better way to write the next part of the story, who knows?
A Story About Waffles 