This wasn’t a story of some muscle-headed, diesel-guzzler, saving beautiful women in high octane action sequences. It was instead a cleverly veiled tale of a reluctant hero, roped into helping a disenfranchised party of capable warriors, journey-ho to reclaim their home from a sadistic, water-hording, overlord .
The art of writing, in the end, is the art of communication. It is a sort of magic where I take ideas in my head and try to put it into other people’s heads. Sometimes we succeed at spinning these spells better than other times, but in the end that is what it is. Your released written word will be interpreted by others in countless ways–most of which won’t meet the original dream in your head.