It’s a great pleasure to share our in-depth interview with regular WU contributor, assistant editor, stellar community member, and now published author Vaughn Roycroft, on the publication day of his debut novel, THE SEVERING SON!

Do you ever get the feeling that things are about to change? I mean, really change? Like, if you were to describe it in terms of the weather, it wouldn’t be just—“oh hey, it looks like rain,” but much more like, “Winter… Is… Coming!” As in, cue the Cate Blanchett-as-Galadriel voiceover:

As I hurtle toward the publication of my debut, it struck me the other day that I’ve spent over a decade crafting an elaborate 1,500+ page setup. It’s true. In 2011, after two years of collecting rejections for my first epic fantasy story, I convinced myself that the only thing keeping me from a publishing deal was that my story lacked an engaging opening (reader, this was not the only thing).

You’re not wrong, Writer Unboxed is indeed dedicated to the business and craft of writing fiction. For anyone keeping track, yes–two out of my last three essays here have drawn from music and musicians (rather than books and authors).

My wife and I recently had dinner with another married couple—old friends whom we hadn’t seen since before the pandemic. We went through the usual greeting rituals and settled into our seats, me directly across from Burke, who seemed particularly ebullient. “What’s up?” I asked, sensing there was something.

Last Thursday something a little unusual happened here on WU. The post published that day was a new edition of the popular monthly feature Flog A Pro, by WU’s own Ray Rhamey. If you haven’t read the post and plan to, here’s your spoiler alert! in regard to the unusual aspect.

No, you’re not wrong—that title definitely seems off. We’re only a few weeks into spring, after all. I blame Bob Seger. Well, perhaps it’s more accurate to blame XM Radio’s 70s soft rock channel, The Bridge.

If you’ve visited Writer Unboxed in the past few days, you know that the blogsite and the community recently celebrated its 16th birthday. Therese shared a few stats in the commemorative post on Saturday, so I thought it would be fun to start this post by sharing a few of my own personal WU historical tidbits and stats.

It’s the holiday season! It seems like seasonal joy has been somewhat of a theme here on WU lately. I’m not sure about you, but for me, somehow the writing life and this particular season have not always made for a joyful pairing. Don’t get me wrong, I can be as jolly as anyone. I mean, I’m as fond of the taste of peppermint where it’s normally not found, the sound of bells ring-a-linging, and the smell of a coniferous tree slowly drying out in the house as the next guy. I think it’s mostly due to the fact that it’s the end of one year and the start of another, but this season has tended to conjure more writerly angst than joy.

I had a powerful dream about a week ago that’s stayed with me. In it, I receive confirmation that my debut is locked and loaded, ready to be published. In the dream I’m fully aware that it’s being self-published (as I intend in waking life). And this dream version of me is thrilled about it. The excitement was palpable, memorable.

Have you read the recent essay here on WU titled Don’t Finish Your Book, by Allison Larkin? The excellent piece led me to download and devour Larkin’s wonderful new book, The People We Keep. You absolutely should read the essay right away, but if the book has yet to appear on your radar, I’d be honored to be the blip that sends you on your way toward making this story a part of your writing journey. There’s so much to say about the book, but for today’s purpose, suffice to say it’s one of those stories that accomplishes so much, and seems to do it effortlessly. I promise, as a writer, it’ll leave you thinking and as a reader, it’ll leave you feeling. I tweeted after finishing that I needed one of those long German words to describe the complex way in which TPWK moved me.

You know how a realization about your storytelling can strike when you’re reading someone else? Of course you do. How about the kind of realization that makes you regret not having it sooner, so that you could have been taking advantage of it all along? You’re probably still nodding, right? Okay, how about one that’s so utterly obvious that you feel like an idiot for having never consciously utilized it before?

That title probably feels like an obvious concept to most of us. But lately I’ve been seeing a lot of scorn for tropes in the bookish communities online. The term trope is often thrown around in a pejorative way. It seems as though the word becomes all the more condemning when it’s used in reference to genres of fiction that are commonly disdained—particularly SFF and romance, but occasionally regarding mysteries and thrillers, as well.

I had another post written for today. But something didn’t feel right about it. I consider the essay an acceptable effort, and I may share it another day, but I shelved it. I think my subconscious needed to release something else. But here’s the rub: up till this past weekend, I still didn’t know what that something else was. It finally hit me on our chilly but sunny walk this past Saturday morning. My wife said something about the fast-approaching spring equinox. That in combination with the recent reminder of the one year anniversary of the pandemic being declared made me think of my March post from a year ago today, titled: It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And Writing Feels Fine).

Well, I just finished another revision pass on my WIP. This one was for the final edition of a trilogy, and revising the ending has really gotten me thinking. Not just about the story. It’s also made me take a look at myself—at who I am as a storyteller, and how this process has changed me. As well as how my story and I reflect the times and fit into the world around me.

Greetings from Geekdom! If you’re not one of us but you have geeks in your life, you may have noticed that we’re a bit scarce these days. There’s an easy explanation: We geeks have been forced to up our game, reading-wise. Many of us have been trying to get caught up before tomorrow. Allow me to explain.

Did you read WU on Friday? Monica Bhide submitted a lovely essay, aptly titled Powered by Hope, in which she offers a link to her Sound Bites project of the same name. Monica says she’s providing this service because she knew she “had to do something,” in response to the messages of fear and despair she was receiving due to the pandemic.

You think that title is just a provocation, don’t you? Something to get folks riled and then clicking through to my essay. Honestly, I hope people do want to read yet another essay on prologues. But also, I honestly do love prologues.

What a month! Seems like I’ve started just about every post here lately with a similar exclamation, but the impact of the current moment just keeps growing. WU Editorial Director Therese Walsh wrote a piece to start the month in which she reminded us that we are witnessing history. She made the case that “history is written by the writers,” which I fully embrace.

To: Professor John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

The Undying Lands

Via The Grey Havens, Eriador