What if you could rewrite your story? Become the hero?

What if you discovered that your entire existence was simply a supporting role in someone else’s story? What if you were tired of standing in the background while someone else became the hero? And what if you had the power to change it?

These are some of the questions at the heart of my latest Word Guardians adventure, The Word Guardians and the Story Thief.

The Otherworld is built from ancient stories. Its kingdoms, characters and legends have existed for generations, each story becoming part of the fabric of this realm.

But what happens when one character decides that the story he has been given isn’t enough?

The forgotten knight

At the beginning of the story, we meet a knight who is tired of being a minor figure in someone else’s tale. He’s been used and discarded, but he has never been the hero.

So, when a mysterious Grey Witch offers him a bargain, he sees an opportunity. Help her find her missing sisters, and in return she will help him claim a story of his own.

At first, it sounds like an irresistible offer. After all, don’t we all want to have absolute control over our own story?

But there is a difference between changing your future and rewriting the stories that have already been written. The knight begins stealing stories. And the consequences are far greater than he realised.

When stories become reality

As the knight reshapes ancient legends so that he becomes the hero, and king, the world around him changes. Histories are rewritten. And beneath these stolen stories lie something even more dangerous: ancient archetypes with the power to affect reality itself.

This is one of the things I particularly enjoy about the Otherworld. It allows me to explore an idea that has always fascinated me: Where does a story end and reality begin?

We often think of stories as something we create. We write them down, tell them around a campfire, read them in books and pass them from one generation to another. But stories also shape us.

The heroes we admire. The villains we fear. The journeys we recognise. The idea of the quest, the sacrifice, the betrayal, the lost kingdom or the unlikely hero.

These patterns have been appearing in stories for thousands of years. They have a power of their own.

Who gets to be the hero?

There is another question behind the knight’s desire to rewrite his story. What makes someone a hero?

Is it the role they are given? The way history remembers them? The number of battles they win? Or is being a hero something that comes from the choices we make?

The knight believes that if he can change the story, he can change who he is. But stories have consequences for everyone involved in them.

And when you change one part of a story, you may discover that you have changed everything else as well.

This puts Yas and Sam, along with the enigmatic Penn, in a difficult position. They aren’t simply trying to stop someone from stealing stories. They are trying to understand what is happening to an entire realm as its stories, and history, are rewritten.

And Penn has a particularly important connection to the knight. One that reaches deeper than anyone else realises.

The danger of becoming the author

There is something strangely tempting about the knight’s ambition. Who hasn’t imagined changing something about their own story?

Perhaps we would rewrite a mistake. Take a different path. Give ourselves a different ending. Make ourselves the hero instead of the person standing at the edge of someone else’s adventure.

But perhaps our stories aren’t meant to be controlled completely. Perhaps the unexpected parts, the mistakes, the detours, the people we meet along the way, are what make them ours.

The knight discovers that becoming the author of your own story can be very different from simply living it.

Because once you start rewriting the world to fit the story you want, what happens to everyone else? And what happens when the story starts rewriting you?

A new journey into the Otherworld

The Word Guardians and the Story Thief takes Yas and Sam back into the Otherworld, where ancient stories are not just remembered. They are alive and evolving.

It’s a story about identity, ambition, imagination and the power that stories can have over the worlds we create.

But most of all, it’s about the danger of believing that we can have complete control over a story simply by determination.

So, read The Word Guardians and the Story Thief, and if you need to set the scene first, start with book 1 of the series, The Word Guardians and the Battle for the Peacekeepers.

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What makes a place special to us?

It seems like a simple question. A place has a location, a history, a setting. We can find it on a map, take photographs of it, describe it to someone who has never been there. But what makes it special to us? Perhaps it isn’t really about the place, but the idea of it in our minds?

Think about somewhere that means something to you. Perhaps the house where you grew up, or a beach you visited as a child. It could be a school, a park, a town or a particular room where something important happened.

When you think about it, you probably don’t picture just the physical location. Sure, you remember what it looked like, what happened, the sounds, the smells and the feelings. But maybe it was more about what you experienced while you were there? Who were you?

The physical place likely still exists, but the place in your memory is something much more than walls, streets or landscape. So, I’d like to suggest that it’s our interpretation of a place that makes it special to us. And this can lean on several pieces.

A place is more than its history

History can give a place a layer of meaning, and something special for us.

We can visit somewhere we’ve never been before and become fascinated by what happened hundreds of years ago. We might walk through an old building and wonder about the people who once lived within its walls. We might stand in a street and imagine the lives that unfolded there.

This is something I explore through the magical realms of The Word Guardians. Victorian London is one example, that Yas first visits with her mentor in Book 1 – The Battle for the Peacekeepers.

The London of today is obviously a real place. You may well have visited it and have your own memories of it. But when we think about Victorian London, we aren’t simply thinking about streets and buildings. We construct another London in our minds, related to what we remember of the present.

We imagine the people who walked those streets, the sounds and smells, the clothing, the conversations and the lives being lived behind closed doors.

History gives us fragments and our imagination fills in the rest. And this is the beauty of the realms in The Word Guardians. The realms are what we see in our mind’s eye as we read and a place that existed long before we were born becomes vividly real. And more than that, in The Word Guardians series, those that have the ability can visit it.

What about a place we have never physically visited at all, though? Yas and Sam visit Ancient Alexandria later in Book 1 – The Battle for the Peacekeepers.

In our imagination, we can walk its streets. We can picture its buildings and imagine a marketplace and people around us. We can almost hear the conversations. We’re there, in our minds and a place we have never seen can feel surprisingly real.

And perhaps this is where the boundary between place and imagination becomes interesting. If a place can exist physically, historically and imaginatively, which one is real to us?

You could argue that all three are. But again, I’d like to suggest that a place becomes truly special to us only when we bring something of ourselves to it.

The places we call home

Home isn’t necessarily the biggest house, the most beautiful landscape or even the place where we have spent the most time. Home is a feeling.

In The Word Guardians, Sam experiences this in The Country Mansion. There is something about the place that gives him a feeling of home. It’s about time shared with his family, and especially his Mom, who sadly is no longer around.

For Sam, The Country Mansion is a place where she still lives on. He has a belonging. He felt safe, comfortable, connected. Or to put it into one word. It felt like ‘home’.

What exactly are we recognising when somewhere feels like home?

Are we recognising the physical place? A memory of that place? Or something about ourselves? And is what we remember what actually happened?

What do we actually remember?

Memory is often described as something that happened in the past and that we retain in our minds. But our memories aren’t photographs, and they can change over time.

They are influenced by emotion, imagination and everything that has happened to us since.

The same place can mean something completely different to us at different stages of our lives. A childhood home might once have seemed ordinary. Years later, we might remember it with affection, sadness or longing.

The physical house hasn’t changed in our memory but our relationship with the place has. That’s what we carry with us. That’s what makes a place special.

The places we carry

This is one of the things I find fascinating about the idea of magical realms. A realm might appear to be a physical place, but our experience of it is inevitably personal.

We bring our memories into it, our expectations, fears, imagination and our understanding of the world as we know it.

Two people could potentially stand in exactly the same place and experience something completely different. They each have a feeling that it is ‘theirs’.

What makes a place ‘ours’?

A place becomes ours though the memories we attach to it, the experiences we have there, the people we share it with and the stories we tell about it.

And if all these things transform a physical location into something deeply personal, then perhaps there are places we carry with us without even realising it. There may be places that are special to us that we have only encountered in our imagination.

This is where the boundaries between memory and imagination begin to become rather more interesting, and it’s something I’ll talk about next time.

In the meantime, to learn more about the extraordinary power of memory and imagination in the Word Guardians series, and how it creates magical realms in which a secret war is being fought, start reading Book 1 – The Battle for the Peacekeepers, today.

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Reincarnation: What if we’ve been here before?

Have you ever met someone for the first time and felt you already knew them? Not knew of them. Actually knew them.

Perhaps it was their voice, their manner, or simply a feeling you couldn’t explain. A strange familiarity that seemed to exist before the meeting itself.

We usually find an explanation. Coincidence. Chemistry. Déjà vu. Our minds looking for patterns.

But what if, just for a moment, we considered another possibility.

What if it was reincarnation? This is something that I explore in The Word Guardians and the Lost Beginnings.

What if we really had met before?

The idea of reincarnation raises a fascinating question. If we have lived previous lives, perhaps we don’t necessarily remember them consciously. Maybe something survives without becoming a memory in the conventional sense. A feeling, a connection, a recognition.

And perhaps the strangest experience of all would be to meet someone from that life again.

Knowing someone you don’t know

Imagine discovering that the person sitting opposite you was once someone you loved deeply.

They don’t remember. You barely know each other. Yet somewhere inside you is the knowledge that you have shared a life before.

How would you behave?

Would you expect the old relationship to somehow continue? Would you trust the connection? Or would you recognise that although their soul, or whatever part of us survives, may be familiar, this is still a different life, and they are still a different person?

This is the dilemma faced by Mira and Sunyal in The Word Guardians: The Lost Beginnings.

They meet in this life as strangers, but Sunyal seems to know that their story began much earlier.

Mira experiences glimpses of that past, but initially she questions them. Are these memories genuinely hers? Are they fragments of another life? Or is Sunyal somehow putting the thoughts into her mind?

And that question matters.

Because if we cannot trust our own memories, how can we know what is real?

What if forgetting is part of the design?

In The Lost Beginnings, forgetting isn’t simply a natural consequence of being reborn.

Some characters have no access to their past because their memories are being controlled by the power behind the Otherworld.

That introduces a darker philosophical possibility.

What if forgetting is not an accident?

What if knowing where we came from gives us knowledge that someone doesn’t want us to have?

Memory shapes identity. It tells us who we are, where we belong and what has happened to us. Take away the past, and you can profoundly change how someone understands the present.

Perhaps, then, controlling memory is another form of controlling choice.

And that brings the story back to one of the central ideas of the Word Guardians series: freedom.

If someone else decides what you are allowed to remember, can your choices truly be your own?

Ultimately, we don’t have to know

I don’t know whether reincarnation is real. Perhaps it is, perhaps not.

Perhaps those strange moments of recognition are simply the mysteries of the human mind. Or, they could be something else.

Maybe we don’t carry complete memories from one life to another. Maybe we carry impressions, something buried deeper than conscious thought.

And perhaps every now and then, something triggers that buried knowledge. A face, a place, a voice or a person.

For Mira, discovering her history with Sunyal doesn’t make their relationship easier. As you’ll discover in The Lost Beginnings, it makes it more complicated.

Because knowing you have loved someone before doesn’t tell you how to love them now. You still have to meet them again and learn who they have become. You still have to choose.

And perhaps that is the most important thought of all.

Even if we have lived before, this life is still ours to decide

Maybe the past can explain the connection. Maybe it can reveal where the story began. But it cannot determine where the story goes next.

To learn more about Mira and Sunyal’s adventure, read Book 4, The Lost Beginnings.

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