I’d been reading a fantasy in which yet again the ‘power’ character was badly advised or corrupted – and stupid.
Because that was the only way the writer could make the plot work.
And I thought: why does the ‘prince’ always have to be the stupid straight man?
And there was Ashamet, or Ash as his friends call him. Flawed; yes. But definitely not stupid. At least until he’s forced to abandon the image he’s so carefully cultivated.
So that’s where it began. I wrote the first fifty pages in one sitting. Both Ash and Keril just walked onto the page, as if I’d known them forever. So I wrote another fifty pages – and hit the big obstacle.
At that point I knew exactly who Ashamet and his people were, no problem there. But I only knew as much about
View original post 589 more words