Press Kit

“Now, David!” The paladin turned to face the bush that Rowan was in, not realizing his horse’s flank was exposed. Without leaving his hiding place, David drove his spear through the horse’s lungs, right behind the front shoulder. The great beast rasped a scream, twisted, and came crashing down.

As his horse gave out from under him, the paladin tried to make a flying dismount. He almost succeeded too, but his right foot caught on the stirrup, tripping him up and causing him to land hard on his back beside the dying steed. Rowan now leapt from the bush with a heavy hammer raised high. The paladin rolled over, got one knee under him, seemed to reach for his sword–but it was too late! Rowan wheeled the hammer back, down, and up in a devastating upward swing. Winthrop was certain that would be the end of the paladin, but at the last moment he managed to roll his left shoulder back, causing the hammer to only land a glancing blow on his chest. Even so, that would have been his death, but a metallic rattle revealed the paladin was wearing chain mail beneath his cloak, and the armor did its job. He was driven sideways, rolled with the momentum of the strike, and got his feet under him to stand. Looking at the knight’s white hairs, Winthrop shook his head and wondered, How does he move like that?

Rowan pursued his prey with a ferocious side swipe. The knight surprised him by leaping towardsRowan, pulling close and rendering the hammer swing harmless. Rowan dropped the hammer and made to strangle the knight, but was stopped cold by a sudden pain in his ribs. As he looked down he saw the paladin’s hand gripping a jeweled cross, the bottom of which was touching Rowan’s side, and a red stain was blossoming on his shirt from the place where the cross touched it. With a shove the paladin pulled his dagger free. Rowan fell backwards to the ground, still not understanding what had happened.

“How many people have we left dead on a roadside for the birds to eat, like they mattered as much as horse food? How many people with hopes and dreams and friends and family have we snuffed out so casually, like none of them matter?” David dropped to the ground and pounded the earth with his fist, yelling, “How many orphans? How many orphans like me have a hole in their life because their parents had a full pack when they crossed our path? How many lives have we destroyed over a fistful of shiny trinkets?” At this point David began to pull on his hair while wailing bitterly, “How many? How many? How many have I killed?”

Winthrop dropped down and tried to shake him out of his hysterics, saying, “David, David, David! What are you talking about? It’s not true! None of it’s true! You’ve never killed anybody! You’ve never robbed a soul!”

“I have!” he screamed, looking up with a twisted face. “Not with my spear, but with my silence! I could have saved them! I could have shouted a warning! I could have made sure the world had a few less orphans in it! Instead I killed them with silence because I thought pleasing you and Rowan and Garrett mattered more than their lives! How cheaply I valued them! Worth less than honor among thieves!”

He remembered how it ended. Like lightning the empire had swept across the land, and as lightning flashes and is gone, so too the empire was soon nothing but the rumbles of thunder. Day after day, the heralds brought tidings of new rebellions, new disasters, new conquests by the fearsome giant, until only the royal city remained. As the dark army drew near to the gates, six riders sallied forth to avenge their fallen comrade. Horses charging, weapons glowing, and many hopeful eyes watching the last ride of those mighty champions. The giant strode forth, ten feet tall, breathing fire from his mouth and wielding a sword of magma in his black scaled hands. And as the battle was joined, the flaming sword flashed forth, arcs of fire cutting knights down with every swing. As each of the six glowing weapons went dark, it was like watching the death of all things good.

Here dies justice!

Here dies courage!

Temperance, prudence, faith!

All are slain!

Hope lives on!

See him ride now!

The winged horse is flying to the rear to strike his blow!

It seemed the rider with the holy lance was about to smite the giant, but at the last moment something went wrong. The flaming sword found and slew him, and as he fell so too fell the ancient world. Never was there one like it, and never would one rise again.

 A. There’s a surprising amount of overlap between engineering and novel writing. I’ve always worked in innovation and invention types of roles, which obviously involves a certain type of creativity. Whether it’s a novel or a new product, there’s a brainstorming phase, drafting phase, edits, analysis. One uses science, the other language, but it really does feel like they’re both types of art only in different media.

  A. Funnily enough, even though I like The Hobbit and loved The Lord of the Rings, the work of Tolkien that most deeply influenced me was an academic writing. His Essay “On Fairy Stories” blew me away the first time I read it, and I have since gone back and reread it several times. In that essay he provides such a brilliant analysis of fairy tales and fantasy stories that helped me to understand the deep significance of story telling and why it’s so powerful in our lives.

 A. I was blessed to have a wonderful father. Many people I know were not. A pattern I’ve seen many times in life is that I’ve gone on to become a father-figure to many of those people who didn’t have a loving dad. There is a certain healing that can take place when a good man steps into the void of a missing father, and that theme spilled into The Black Knightorganically as I tried to create realistic characters with realistic relationships.

 A. Suffering comes into every life, and there are only two fundamental ways to understand it. Either suffering serves no purpose, and your worldview begins to bend towards nihilism, or else suffering does serve a purpose, but that purpose is hard to see. Part of the magic of storytelling is that we see the big picture, the battle between good and evil, the hero’s struggle and eventual triumph; it all comes together in a way where we can make sense of the hero’s suffering, which then helps us to make sense of our own.