Dark Fantasy: Rising from the Ashes

I never set out to follow trends, but now that I’m here, I’m curious.

My love for the arcane, the spiritual, and the unsettling pulled me into dark fantasy long before I realized that was where I was heading. I’m ashamed to admit, I’m not well-read in it—at least not in the way others can recite their grimdark canon. Sure, I’ve read Tolkien and Martin, some Ambercrombie, too, and found myself intrigued by R. F. Kuang, but my loves were Clive Barker, Frank Herbert, and the greats like Pearl S. Buck, Dickens, London, and Verne. But I’m learning. And now that I’m here, I want to understand where I fall in this shadowed landscape.

Because something is happening in dark fantasy, and I belong to it.

Dark Fantasy is not new. Actually, it probably peaked in 2016, but it seems to be making a resurgence. Readers tire of clean heroes and comforting endings quickly, and the more our world dips into decline, the more people search for truth. We want stories that bleed. Characters who fail. Systems that lie. And somehow, despite all that, we still want a reason to care. They want the mirror, with all its cracks, but also want to see a light at the end of the tunnel because things are currently pretty grim.

According to Goodreads’ 2023 Year in Books summary, fantasy was the second most-read genre globally, and within that, dark and morally complex subgenres—including grimdark, gothic fantasy, and dark academia—saw some of the highest engagement rates in reviews and ratings. Meanwhile, r/Fantasy’s 2023 census shows that more than 60% of readers prefer morally gray protagonists, with many citing The Poppy War, The First Law, and The Locked Tomb as favorites. That’s not noise—it’s a signal. People look for stories that don’t flinch when staring into the abyss. They’re looking for something honest.

That’s always been my instinct. In The Novice of Thanatos, Mishal doesn’t get a hero’s beginning. He’s forced into spiritual servitude in a crumbling death cult masquerading as a monastic order. His journey isn’t about ascending—it’s about questioning everything he’s been told and finding power in doubt.

In Lucardia, where most of my books take place, the dead don’t rest easily. The living aren’t much better off. Faith is currency. Magic is rot. And survival comes with a price.

My world is built on old wounds. From the burned-out ruins of Brae to the quiet but guarded cemeteries of Thanatos to the hidden temples of the sacred grove, pain isn’t just part of the setting—it’s part of the story’s DNA. But it’s not suffering for suffering’s sake. It’s about the truths people will kill for. And the lies they’ll believe to stay sane.

And yet, even in a world of decay, there are sparks of resilience. Characters still love. Still hope. Still rise—if only to fall again.

My newest project, Jezelle: Thief of Oaks, has taken me somewhere even darker.

This time, I didn’t start with politics or prophecy. I started with a discarded girl—abandoned by her father, raised in a brothel, surviving by instinct and sheer will. There’s no divine call. No political machination. Just pain, memory, and a hunger for something better.

Writing Jezelle forced me to strip away artifice. Her darkness isn’t magical—it’s human. Her story doesn’t pivot on chosen-one tropes. It spirals inward into the loneliness of a child who learns the world is cruel and still decides to fight it.

Jezelle isn’t just a darker book—it’s a more intimate one. And in some ways, it’s more terrifying because of it.

I don’t claim a seat next to Grimdark legends or gothic masters. I’m still finding my place. But I do know this:

I write for readers who want more than easy answers. Who sees the sacred and the profane braided together. Who’ve questioned what they were taught to believe—and wondered what they lost by obeying.

I write for those who’ve been hurt and still hope to heal.

Dark fantasy isn’t just a genre—it’s a reckoning. And I plan to keep writing in the dark, where the truest things are often hidden. It is silly to follow trends. My long journey with Koen: Quills from the Raven’s Nest shows me that by the time you’ve finished writing, editing, querying, and finally publishing, it has been years, and the trends have inevitably shifted.

But if I’m being honest, I’m just getting started. I’ve found my place in the genre—now I want to understand who else is standing in the shadows beside me. That’s next. See you on Wednesday.

Cheers!