When I opened my first ever fantasy book as a child, I was confronted with a map. Cradled in my trembling hands was a new world of possible impossibilities. I studied it ruthlessly, determined to be intimately familiar with it’s topography before I embarked upon a readers quest!
Many moons later, after deciding to take the writing plunge, I knew I wanted a map in my novel. Of course, it helped me to write Fingle’s Trial, I could visualise the potentials and position my characters accordingly. But it holds a deeper importance for me. It helped to make Fingle’s world real somehow. A map is physical proof, proof of somewhere ‘out there’ waiting to be explored.
There was also another reason…
I make no apologies for what I am about to share with you. I ask for no acceptance or understanding, I merely wish you as a reader, to be aware that everything you think is real and everything you think is unreal, is not entirely accurate.
Approximately one year before I first put pen to paper, I had an experience. For those who have meditated, you may have had one similar. I have never professed to being an adept at meditation, rather I find myself waking from my noble intentions with a snoring start. Whether my adrenal glands are shot, or I am a narcoleptic in sleepy denial, I simply cannot help myself, I nearly always fall asleep!
On this particular occasion however, I did not.
After relegating my insane dog to the farthest reaches of my town-house,
closing my eyes and regulating my breathing as best I could (despite my Romanesque nose), they came…
Hand upon my shrivelled heart, the vision I looked upon was as real as any ultraHD movie, so much so, I almost couldn’t bear it and fought very hard to remain as a passive observer. I knew if I had opened my eyes I would break whatever magick had been weaved. In the far distance (in my inner vision), were two beings, they were walking slowly and deliberately towards me on a single path. The rest of the landscape was entirely barren and devoid of anything other than soil.
As these two beings approached me, I could see the differences in build. One was smaller and wiry, the other much taller and muscular. I couldn’t make out their faces, so I couldn’t yet ascertain their true intentions. So I simply sat, breathing harder, with my eyelids twitching mercilessly for the sanctity of daylight.
Ever closer they casually strolled, until I could see their characteristics in detail . They were green skinned and looked like Goblins. It seemed they knew me, for only true friends reserved the smiles they held for me. They were dressed in cliché fantasy trope garbs (see Lord of The Rings) and the detail was unnerving. But the smiles…the warmth and love I felt from these two incredible, ‘larger than life’ characters standing just feet way from me was beyond personal. Sadly, the magick faded and I was left stunned but in awe.
Approximately one year later (having long forgotten about the experience, as the humdrum of three dimensional life took its toll), I decided to try my hand at writing. I had always enjoyed the written word, far more than anything else, so I suppose it was an inevitability. I knew I was going to write a fantasy novel, but what? There is so much out there, so much talent, who was I to masquerade as a writer? Then in a flash, an image of two smiling faces jogged my memory. Why not write about them? They certainly fitted the stereotype of fantasy creatures, why not write a fantasy story about Goblins? But weren’t Goblins mean and nasty? The two that visited me were anything but mean or nasty.
Then an idea percolated. What if I wrote a novel offering a different perspective on Goblins, a refreshing interpretation of this largely misunderstood race. So the idea for Fingle’s Trial was now becoming a reality. I gave them names, ‘Fingle Froglick’ for the shorter, gangly Goblin and ‘Clump’ for the giant Goblin. I wanted the reader to not only sympathise with the Goblins plight, but also realise a commonality between Humans and Goblins.
It was then another realisation struck me, Fingle and Clump were time travellers! They had come to me during mediation so that I would write about them in the future. This is why they felt like old friends when I first met them, because they knew I would eventually write all about them and become intimately close to them.
This is also why including a map was so important to me, because it was important to Fingle and Clump. They approached me in a barren land and needed my help to create their world. So now I am left wondering, who actually helped who?
I love my characters, just as every other author should love their own, but I tell you now, there is magick in those pages. Fingle’s world and all who inhabit it are as real as any other world, but don’t just take my word for it, find out for yourself…
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