It is my pleasure to have a guest post by author Ron Hartman today.
The Strongest Attraction of Fantasy
by Ron Hartman
I like a good fantasy novel. No, I don’t just like it, I love a good fantasy novel. It’s not really the sword and sorcery that draw me, either. It’s the sense that anything is possible. You want a character to fly? How about a world taken out of time, or a dead man mourning the life he had? All of these and more can happen in fantasy! I was asked to write about the attraction to fantasy. I’d say the word itself is the start of that attraction. Is there a better word in literature? I don’t think so. Sure it brings to mind dragons and knights, but it can also be just about anything you can imagine. It’s like in this genre The Great Literature Categorizer in the Sky (Is that even a thing? Well, it is in fantasy.) said, “No holds barred. Show me what you got.”
Have you ever done an exercise video, or watched a sporting event, and heard someone say, “This is where the magic happens,”? You know what they’re talking about, don’t you? This is it. This is the point where something fantastic, something amazing happens. It’s like they’re saying, “Are you taking notes? Because this is the part you don’t want to miss.” It’s the magic. That is the true heart of fantasy. Whether it’s a boy that didn’t die or one ring to bind them all or a dagger that can change a man’s destiny, it all comes back to magic (by the way, that third reference is from my book, The Prophecy Chronicles: Prophecy Revealed, shameless plug, I know).
Magic is in there, and it is the ultimate equalizer. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, or what family you were born in, or even if you’re the cool kid in school. If you’ve got magic on your side, your enemies better watch out. And want to see how it plays out. We’ll keep coming back, we’ll keep wanting more, because we love the fantastical, we love the magical. I’ve been coming back, wanting more for thirty years, and I don’t think I’m done with fantasy yet.
Magic and fantasy, a marriage that has borne countless children, that has birthed legends like Rowling and Tolkien and Hartman (just kidding). Do you want to know the best part? The reason why we can’t get enough? Well, get your pen and paper, because it’s time to take notes… When we’re talking about fantasy, this is where the magic happens.
By Ron Hartman
Daniel Marten crossed the Burning Sea and convinced himself that he is the Prophesied One. But what does that mean? In this second installment of the Prophecy Chronicles trilogy, Daniel forges new alliances in his bid to save Naphthali from the Emperor. He meets the Tene’breon, a magical race that has evolved to use the Weave as effortlessly as he breathes air. The leaders of this race recognize him for what he is…but they also see something more.
Naphthali has been dramatically altered by the rule of a new governor, a man whose power is tied to Daniel in a horrifying way. How far will Daniel go to save Naphthali? And what is the secret that binds his destiny with his new allies? Only time will tell in The Prophecy Chronicles: Prophecy Revealed.
Rage started to build inside Daniel. He closed his right hand into a tight fist and felt a dull ache that quickly gave way to burning pain. Of course that was alright too, because that was as it should be. He looked back to his desk and there, on the now cluttered surface was—Ah! His solace. The ones he turned to at his darkest moments. Ashley and the kids beamed at him from photos.
He turned to the thing doing a poor job of mimicking one of his closest friends. Her eyes flashed orange and she gave off a series of clicks as realization struck. She may be orchestrating this, but it's my mind, and I can control what happens. He looked at the pictures of his beloved family and considered his office, his refuge. She'd perverted it, desecrated it. Rage continued to build, and Daniel knew soon he would be powerless to stop it. Let it. He didn't want to stop. Still looking at the photos, he started to speak, his voice shaking with fury. "These are my family, my friends. I give them my time, and my care." He turned to not-Meg. "You are not one of them, and you will have no more." The last came out in a roar as he closed the distance between himself and his tormentor.
He opened his right fist and clamped it around not-Meg's throat, slamming her to the wall. The burning grew to encase his entire arm when he tightened his grip, but he refused to let go. He pulled his face to within inches of hers, and glared with suddenly steely eyes. "Who are you?" he growled.
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