In February, I had the joy of seeing my first novel published. Starting out three years ago, all I knew was that I wanted to tell a very particular story. At last, I could turn the pages of that story in my hands.
When work began on Where the Light Touches, I had never tried my hand at writing a full fantasy book before. I have always enjoyed books like The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Treasure Island and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. When I put my own pen to the paper, though, I froze.
Where should I start?
I tried to be methodical. The story was vital, and the characters already haunted the shadowy recesses of my brain. Even so, none of this would matter if they did not have solid ground to walk on. They needed a world in which to live.
I knew that the book would be a modern fantasy with Steampunk elements of flair and gadgetry. The challenge now became how to take my own mind into this world and relate it to other people through written words. I watched movies and read books that incorporated the aesthetic. I clung to festival and convention booths that peddled gear-themed jewelry. All I gained from this, though, was appreciation for other people’s work. When I tried to write, the results were cheap imitations of others’ creations.
I moved on to reading books about writing books (which I still enjoy), I took online courses like Write Storybooks For Children, and I chatted with anyone I could get in touch with who had even thought about writing a book. I learned about the craft and business. I developed a stronger appreciation for the fact that few things worth doing are accomplished alone. Still, I struggled to develop my book’s own fictional world.
In the midst of my frustration, I took a trip out of town to visit my brother and his wife. At the time, they lived in Galveston, TX, where he was attending medical school. My wife and I needed a vacation, and it was high time to pay a brotherly call. As for Galveston itself, it had been more than ten years since I had seen the town.
I was amazed by what we found. Galveston's variegated history and enchanting architecture make it a one-of-a-kind treasure. You walk down the street and feel something sensational in the air. Bishops, gangsters, artists and pirates have called the town home at various junctures.
Without effort, my mind pictured bizarre and splendid characters roaming these streets. My eyes fixated on damp alleyways and marvelous shops. Wherever I turned, there was something waiting to be written. The foundation for my book's setting was right in front of me.
With my eyes freshly opened, it became easier to visualize minor embellishments on the real world. When I returned home, I mixed and matched the places I knew with pictures from around the globe, present and past. Building the world of my book became like building a new puzzle by taking pieces from different puzzles and fitting them together.
I took long walks to study how branches moved in the wind. The colors of roadside wildflowers appeared more vibrant, and my tongue savored the tastes and textures of food and candies. The subtle differences between the experience of a sunrise versus a sunset grew vitally important. Things that seemed dingy at a glance became enamoring with a closer look.
Starting out, I had attempted to retreat into my mind to make something more extraordinary than the world around me. The truth, I learned, is that the beauty, the innovation and the strangeness that surrounds us is far grander than anything I could devise. True inspiration rested in the wonderful world I knew.
Where the Light Touches is now out of my hands. Going forward, I will continue to write fantastical tales because I enjoy writing them, and I genuinely hope you enjoy reading them. When the last page of the book turns and the back cover closes, however, an even greater adventure awaits in the lives we are living and the world we are living in. Don’t forget to look up.
