Flashback Fridays #10

For this Flashback Friday, I’m going back to February 3, 2021—to the very first time I wrote publicly about the story that would eventually become Dawn of the Lightbearer.

Of course, it wasn’t called Dawn of the Lightbearer yet. Lucardia didn’t have a name. There was no Absolution of the Morning Star, no sprawling history, no interconnected novels. I thought I had simply found a way around a bout of writer’s block.

When I first started writing, I had a single image in my mind of an ancient tree hidden deep inside a cave, caught in a shaft of light from above (much like above). That image became one of the first visual foundations of the story—and, in many ways, of Lucardia itself.

At the time, I was working on sequels to two of my earlier books, and I fully expected to return to them once this strange burst of medieval dark fantasy had run its course while I was on the winter holiday break.

I never did.

Those two drafts remain exactly where I left them at the beginning of 2021.

Reading this post now, I realize it captures one of the most profound moments of my life as a writer. What I described then as going “off-roading” became an entirely new road. One story became a world, and that world became a creative quest that continues to this day: bringing Lucardia to life.

This is where it began.

Cheers!


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Published by scottatirrell

Scott Austin Tirrell writes dark fantasy because apparently the real world doesn't contain enough dead people, ruined faiths, and gods with questionable motives. Most of his stories take place in Lucardia, a world with a long memory and a rather serious problem with its dead. Its people have been taught many comforting things about history, religion, power, and what happens when the reaper’s sickle swings. Unfortunately, much of it is wrong. Scott is less interested in heroes than in complicated people who stumble into mysteries they probably should have left alone—and then have to live with what they find. When he isn’t writing, Scott wanders old cemeteries in search of character names and thinks about fictional people as though they have personally inconvenienced him. He lives near Boston with his wife and maintains a healthy distrust of ravens.

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