Thanks to Cristy for some stimulating questions about the art of fantasy writing in the digital age.

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Tell us a little about your Lifesong series, where did the idea originate?

Some music has an overwhelming beauty; I’ll hear it and it changes me. I wanted to understand what that beauty was, and why it is important to our spirits. So Tabitha discovers the Lifesong, and begins to explore the mystery of the essence of music, and the world around her begins to change. I set this in a classic fantasy realm, divided on a familiar dark vs light struggle, but Tabitha’s magic will reveal much much more.

What is the basic premise of each book?

I know this probably breaks some sort of Writing School Law, but I didn’t have one, other than that I wanted to immerse myself in the magic of this altered world I could sense was there. I’m not a moralising author, I don’t construct the book to make some great point or instruct my readers in How They Ought To Live Their Lives. I wrote to explore the beauty of music, and to paint with words and to coax a world of visions to life. I’m basically optimistic about human nature so my fantasy, although having dark shadows, will always have an uplifting message, but beyond that there is no obvious premise. I like readers to discover their own insights by observing the interaction of the characters and the magic.

Which of your characters was your favorite to write and why?

Zarost, the Riddler, because he will always find the humour in a situation, and he allows me to observe a scene upside-down. He reminds me of my father – when he answered my questions about the world, he was always wise, but I often couldn’t tell if he was pulling my leg or being serious.

What is it about Fantasy that fascinates you enough to want to write it?

Some part of me still believes that we are all capable of being magicians, and that the secret is just out of reach of our daytime consciousness. This kind of thinking doesn’t survive in the cold hard light of logic and reason, but I’m fascinated by the idea of magic, the kind where consciousness affects reality. I think about it a lot, I really enjoy reading about it; I love writing it.

Once you have an idea how do you go about putting it to paper? What is your writing process like?

Like George RR Martin, I’m a gardener as opposed to an architect. I find it hard to plan the future of people I don’t yet know (my characters). So I plant a seed, and nurture it, and explore. The whole series is a discovery, and that keeps me excited. When I started writing I had the luxury of a few years of 10-hour writing days, 5 days a week. Even so, I averaged about 2000 words a day, with some days lost to puzzled moments picking at plotknots. More recently I had to change to stolen hours 5-7am or during a commute. This requires much more dedication to block out the world and get into the story. It’s easier for me now because the years of full-time writing have developed the ability to flick the switch … it’s a kind of magic . In the beginning, writing full-length fiction in this ‘stolen moment’ fashion might have simply been too hard.

Has writing always been a natural inclination for you?

I suppose so, but I never considered it as a career, because it was never really presented as a viable career path when I was at school. Now I know why! Any responsible teacher cannot encourage you to do this as a sensible way of supporting yourself. It isn’t a job, it’s a calling, or an art.

What advice would you give to young/new Fantasy and Science-Fiction authors in South Africa?

Set your life up so that you can afford to write without earning any money from it. The commercial success of your writing needs to be an independent bonus. From what I can see, it takes a very long time to develop a writing career. The lack of money will do your head in after a few years. Find a second string to your bow, something that you like doing that earns money now, focus on that first then slowly introduce a wedge of writing time into your working life. Yeah, I know it’s good advice I didn’t follow – I was so consumed by the wonder of writing that I just leapt in and wrote fantasy full time for years. Deliciously defiant financial suicide.

You are one of those modern writers who have embraced the digital publishing industry. Was this an easy transition for you?

You play to your strengths – I’ve got an IT degree. A website/blog is a useful place to display my books and to offer readers a glimpse ‘behind the scenes’, but I don’t think it’s vital for selling books and it’s easy to be fooled into blogging instead of writing. I don’t think blogging (by fiction writers) generates enough new readers to justify the time spent on it, unless you’re unusually talented at blogging. People don’t buy direct from the author anyway, they buy from bookstores, amazon and online retailers. But digital is good news – with ebooks, everyone can get into the marketplace, thanks to systems like CreateSpace (offers some useful services), Kindle Direct and Smashwords. Digital publishing is much much easier than print publishing, and it is a different marketplace where an author’s online presence can have a impact.

Do you think the digital publishing revolution has changed the way writers approach a story?

I can’t comment on writers in general, but I don’t think I will try to write in a different way because the story will be digital – readers still need a good story, which needs the same basic ingredients to work. But my approach to a new story has changed slightly – what I think works now is to write the first few chapters as a novella that goes out as a free ebook to get readers excited about the idea of the series / fall in love with the characters, and then you can sell the main story/series. So what used to be one book now needs a bit of restructuring to be a powerful short launch book and then the real story thereafter. The other thing that has changed is that I can try a totally whacky idea out, if I want to, and self-publish that digitally without any concern about the ‘commercial publishers’ turning their nose up at it. So digital is driving innovation. I think we’ll see more imaginative writing being produced. It’s a great time to be a writer.

Magic is a big part of my writing. Don’t get me wrong, I think science is hugely enlightening. Magic fills the spaces we haven’t found ways to explain yet, and so in some ways magic is very high tech – it describes the talents we might yet discover but don’t know how to access yet. If you’re happy to accept the idea that we don’t know everything yet, there’s a gap for new possibilities and latent talents that could be developed into magic. Once you have magic in your world, it can be great fun! Magic continues to surprise me. It’s very very tricky to work with, because once you allow people to have magical powers, you realise they would use magic to find simpler solutions to just about every challenge they face.

Take teleportation, for example. If you really had this power, you could steal anything, escape from any jail, avoid bullets, travel through the entire universe. There’s not much that could compel you to be in a predicament. Most tension results from not being where you need to be, or not being able to escape. But of course with great power comes great responsibility. If you could do something to stop Hitler, you’d have to do something about it, or live with being an apathetic moron. Teleport in: pull the trigger: teleport out. Great, now you’re a murderer. See how the world has suddenly become so very intense? So as soon as you introduce magic, your whole world and the way you would respond to it changes. This makes the story interesting in unexpected ways, and plays absolute havoc with any kind of plot you invent before you begin telling the story.

Imagine you decided you would have a knight rescue a fair princess trapped in a tower. Then you decide to give your princess the smallest whiff of magical power. By the time your knight in shining has put on all that armour, found his belligerent stallion and completed his quest against the unfair advantages of all his adversaries (who can use magic against him), the princess would have charmed the guard, escaped from her tower, charmed a trader to hide her in his wagon, charmed some men out of their money, charmed some more men to fight for her, swept down from the hills and captured her captors, and locked them in the tower. And she probably thinks the knight is a bit of a ninny. The original plot disappears in a puff of magic.

At which point you realise you have to throw out any preconceptions and submerge yourself in the imagined world, to be true to the story of a mage you must become a mage in that world, to understand how a mage would act you must imagine yourself there, in the flesh, or it’s just not going to be real enough.

To keep track of all the various characters in my books is easy, because it becomes an act of seeing rather than inventing. I see the strangest characters in this hidden world, and I aim to record them as vividly as possible. This helps to differentiate them in my mind. I write in a slightly different style depending on whose eyes I am looking through, so my vocabulary, mindset and pacing will change automatically, but the more committed I am to the ‘imagined world’ the easier it becomes. What’s most important is not to focus on the voice but to keep aiming to tell the story. Occasionally I write something from a narrator’s point of view to foreshadow an event, create atmosphere, or evoke the rhythms of a myth, and that requires the perspective of an observer, but even then it’s the voice of a character who lives in the imagined world … my alter ego, my double, the fantasy author.

We share a mind, but we live different lives. In the real world, I have a house, a car and a business, and probably spend too much time writing about fantasy writing. In the hidden world, I don’t have a name, but I am very much alive. I see wonderful things. I work magic. I write.

So you could say that by writing fantasy I’ve developed a split personality. Greg Hamerton | fantasy author. There’s a dividing line between fantasy and reality that helps to keep half of me sane, the half that needs a name. The other half is a wild-eyed creative. The ultimate achievement is to blur the line and be able to bring the magic back into this world.

Read the full interview on their website:
Enter South African fantasy author’s world of music and magic.

The website is dedicated to reading and reviewing the very best fantasy books for children and adults (both young and old). Featuring interviews, the latest fantasy news, audio-book reviews and competitions Lee provides fantasy fans around the world with a useful, interesting and informative guide to the genre. We chatted about plotting, designing, flying … and madness.

FBR: You have an alter-ego as a paragliding instructor. Do the extreme sports influence your fantasy writing?

Well of course! Paragliding is full of maps and quests. We fly off to strange lands (sometimes that’s Essex). The perspective I get from flying helps me to view the world with some detachment, which leads to ideas of the rise and fall of civilisations, and the passage of great spans of time. The air is a beautiful realm and that stimulates a lot of creativity. There are also more obvious influences: in the Lifesong you’ll find descriptions of the wind whistling under the wings of the dragon, of riding a gyphon, of being snatched up by a winged demon, and a wizard who likes base-jumping. I also studied marshal arts for many years – I use that knowledge to understand how my characters survive in a fight. An appreciation of risk and how one can feel alive in the face of fear drive my action scenes. Years of surfing taught me to find the calm place at the centre of power; the balance point. All this goes into my writing … or at least, I understand these things and so they shape the story as it emerges.

Read the rest of this interview >

TOAD: When did you know you had it in you to be a writer?

Many, many years ago, I wrote a letter to Richard Bach, praising his work but also insisting that his ideas seemed to come from my head. He wrote back, full of wise understanding, telling me that only I could write the stories I needed to write to my people and my time.

TOAD: What’s the most difficult aspect of your craft?

Not owning that villa overlooking the sea with all those minions and endless celebrations in champagne-Jacuzzis. If I worked at any other profession for this long I’d have earned all that, by now. They tell us we get royalties, so if it’s any consolation to aspiring writers, it’s a noble profession. No really, I’m not that shallow, I’m happy with my cosy life. What’s really hard, with writing, is holding on to the singular vision of your story world, as the demands of the real world try to intrude. Hold on, I’ve got to go make a cup of coffee…

Read the full interview in Toad’s corner >

Developing second sight, with one eye on reality and one eye on ... somewhere else

After completing their book review of Second Sight, they kindly invited me to be a guest author on their website, so I posted something today about the value of creative writing, how the search for magic affects my writing method, and what I’m looking for in the fantasy novels that I read.

You’re going to read another fantasy novel? But it’s not true. What’s the point? By this dictum, fantasy novels fail spectacularly. Not only are the people invented; the whole world is. There will often be magic. Magic? Didn’t we emerge from that darkness when Davy turned on the light bulb?

But what if it was true?

Read the rest of this article here >

The average South African ‘best-seller’ comes in at just 4000 copies, and with writers typically seeing less than 10% of the returns, it’s anything but a get-rich-quick profession. In a market of ‘serious’ and ‘worthy’  novels, fantasy fiction is an even tougher nut to crack, but there are some hungry young newcomers who plan to do just that.

Greg Hamerton is the author of Beyond The Invisible and a guidebook for Paragliding South Africa. This year sees Greg’s fantasy debut with the release of the first tale in the Lifesong series, The Riddler’s Gift.

How did you become a writer?

Writing didn’t even feature on the radar when I was at school. It was never presented as a possible occupation. I did a B.Com to do the whole ‘go out and get a sensible job’ thing, which helped quite a lot in fact. It hadn’t entered my consciousness to become a novelist. I eased into writing with magazine articles on extreme sports and once published, I started enjoying seeing my own words in print. I progressed to Beyond The Invisible, which is half autobiography and half fiction. It was a natural first step to draw on my own experience. Writing is a merciless profession to go into though – that’s probably why they didn’t tell me about it at school, and writing non-fiction now seems like a school project by comparison to a novel. It’s also a lot easier to sell, because it’s specialist information that people attach a value to. Fiction is a really tough market to crack until you move into the tens of thousands.

So why write?

Writers are prone to wondering why they do it at all – at times it seems pointless. For me it’s a very personal joy. I really enjoy being in the mental state one reaches when writing creatively. It’s a kind of meditation, and one I find invigorating. It feels that I’m wiser when writing than in the normal everyday world. I can follow my muse and write what I see. That does create havoc with plots though. I often lose long sections that just can’t be incorporated.

How do you write?

I do very little editing on the first draft. In fact, I often switch the monitor off. If I’m looking at the words as they come onto the page I can’t help but spot mistakes and I start thinking with an editor’s mind instead of a writer’s. To maintain the magic or vision of that altered world I try to reduce distractions at the time and come back after I’ve got the flow out, in spite of which I still find the process desperately slow. I wish I could plug into the matrix and just download the thoughts.

My target is 2,000 words per day and it’s a nine-to-five job. I started off trying to write whenever the inspiration hit, but without the regimen of sitting down and doing it every day it didn’t work. I did six drafts of The Riddler’s Gift. That’s 650 pages times six edits, and every time I re-read it I’m reminded of why books are often short.

Is there a market for fantasy in South Africa?

I’m in the process of finding that out. I’ve taken a gamble and printed 5,000 books in the first run. You have to tell yourself you have a bestseller before you go to print, because it’s simply uneconomical to print less than 4,000 copies. And then it either works or it doesn’t. I’m prepared to invest that in my own writing. The trick now is to do the marketing. It got a good response at the Cape Town Book Fair launch earlier this year, and a broad segment of test readers enjoyed it. Now we wait for the trade reviews. I’m aiming for the US market as well, but overseas publishing only works if you’re printing 10,000 copies or more.

You published the book yourself?

Yes. The writing is only half the job, it’s crucial to do the follow up and market the book. It’s tough when you’re so invested in the product, but it’s a necessary evil that you just have to do. It’s also a complete shift from the right brain to the left. As a creative, I find it impossible to do the two at the same time. There’s a lot of cold-calling till it gains momentum. The hidden cost is that I don’t write while I’m being the publisher. It’s worth it to try everything to find a publisher, but if you do publish yourself, it’s important to remember to pay yourself as an author first and make sure you secure your royalty, then try to make money as a publisher. As a writer you do your work writing the book and then walk away. The publisher’s job is relentless and ongoing: you’re always pushing against the mountain.

So, you’re a writer – what do you do for money?

[Laughing and glancing nervously at his peanut-butter sandwich] I worked before the time, saved up and then went on a long financial glide downhill. 1 tried doing odd jobs and had a sideline in photography to support my writing lifestyle, but I realised writing had to be a full-time to become really good.

What’s next?

The sequel to The Riddler’s Gift is sitting at page 550 of about 750, so it’s almost there. It’s ready and waiting and I’m looking to start writing again soon, perhaps in August or September. I estimate it’ll take about a year from that point before it’s ready for publication. A lot depends on how the first book perfonns.

The Riddler’s Gift – is it any good?

[Laughs] Of course it is! Seriously though, it’s impossible for an author to be objective about their own work. You have a relationship with the work. You’re inside the book, as opposed to the reader who approaches it from the outside. If I’ve passed on that creative world I can undoubtedly say it’s fantastic, but it’s up to the reader to discover if that comes through.

Q : How long did it take you to write The Riddler’s Gift?

A : Two years, full time. I find it impossible to write something with this scope in a ‘few stolen hours a day’. So I didn’t work on anything else for two years. It gets easier when you’re isolated. On a normal writing day I’m in my writing room by 8am and I don’t come out until 5pm, sometimes later. There’s no telephone in there, no internet connection. Just the white page, and the blinking cursor. If I don’t write, I know I’m in for a boring day.

Q : Does this ‘isolation style’ of writing put a strain on relationships?

A : Well, yes it does, at times I want to do nothing else than write. It’s a selfish occupation for most of the time. But my wife is my biggest fan, and she supports my writing immensely, so she’s happy to leave me alone in my eyrie. She does plead with me to read early drafts of the work in progress, but I don’t let anyone read those. It’s like showing someone a painting while you’re still mixing the colours on the canvas – it’s always going to be a poor reflection of what you’re aiming for.

Q : Where do you get your inspiration from?

A : Visions. For me it’s a process of being receptive. I meditate every morning at the beginning of my writing session, I try to dissolve my ego, to disappear as a conscious entity. It sounds kinda weird but it’s really just closing your eyes and letting go. Then I shift my awareness towards Eyri, and see where I pop up. I write what I see, no matter how ridiculous it seems.  I just try and be a witness, without judging.  Some days I’m on fire. Some days I just see the blinking cursor, and hear the rain on the roof. That’s why I’ve got to be there every day. I still don’t know when the inspiration will hit me, I can’t invoke it beyond just being in a place where I can use it when it comes.

Q : But how do you know your story is going to make sense if you’re writing ‘flash fiction’? Do you have a master plot structure that you work to?

A : No plot structure, no. This is a scary way to write because sometimes you end up with piles of story which you can’t seem to tie into the plot. My plots have to be discovered, rather than invented. I sift through what I’ve written until the linking scene comes to me, and then suddenly there’s this flash of joy – aah! That’s how it ties together! I think, subconsciously, I already know the plot. Plot problems are moments of blindness. I have a vague idea where the plot is going, but I find that if I try to define a detailed plot, the story gets boring and I lose the fire.

Q : Who are your greatest influences?

A : Well firstly I have to say that I have a terrible memory – I learn things by understanding the principle involved and forgetting the details. In school I developed my short-term photographic memory to the exclusion of all else, so I did fantastically in the kind of exams they set you, which revolve around being able to remember a list of points, facts and details. But long-term memory of details? Gone. So I learn the principles of each story I read, but can’t remember what the characters did. In this manner everything I write is influenced by what I’ve learned from writers I’ve read. I find Stephen Donaldson an immense inspiration, which is probably why I write dark characters the best. Tolkien is like studying calculus – it has no application in my daily life, but it expanded my mind and gave fantasy a depth and scope which enables me to think differently. He created an architecture of thought which goes beyond the horizons. Then there’s Robin Hobb, who brought in all the emotional depth of storytelling which I felt Tolkien lacked. She tells a wonderful, heartbreaking story most of the time, and so I don’t copy what her characters say and do, but I try to infuse this emotional sensibility into my writing.

Q : What is the greatest challenge with writing this kind of book?

A : The amount of time you have to go without earning a cent. It begins to wear down on you, because no matter how romantic it is to be a writer and to follow your dream,  the world moves forward on financial wheels. And I thought my work was done when I’d written ‘The End’, but that was about a quarter of it. Editing is a painful metamorphosis. Getting a book into print can be a long road. Selling it well requires even more dedication and persistence. I think this gets easier once you’re a well-established author within the market, but for an outsider it can be very tough.