Why do humans tell stories? It is one of the elements that separates us from the animals and demonstrates our uniqueness in the image of God. God himself used fiction to make his words easier for us to grasp. The prophet Nathan for example, used a simple tale to convict David of wrongdoing and to help him understand the severity of his sin. Jesus likewise told parables to help us understand the Kingdom. Stories such as these are easily digested and remembered. If Jesus had simply told us the Kingdom was valuable, it would not have the same impact as the story of the merchant in search of fine pearls, which evokes an image and emotion that sits firmly in our memory.

Christianity and Fantasy fiction

 My faerie creatures are (I hope) unique in appearance, and their interactions with humans certainly keep me entertained as a storyteller. I love the concept of them being small; it allows me to observe my local rainforest and garden flora in great detail and to reproduce it in a magical way. I have even used microscopic organisms as inspiration, especially in the bug dragons’ cave. Faeries traditionally have a strong association with nature; it is their grounding for reality. Unlike humans who have in past ages been inclined to worship nature and create gods out of it, my faeries hold a deeper understanding. After all, the ‘book of nature’ is supposed to be our principal source of recognising the existence of a deity. Many of us now live in locations where the glory of the stars is no longer visible, and a pristine forest is increasingly hard to find. When you remove faeries from their natural environment, their focus turns inwards. They become self-obsessed, twisted and confused.

 Now… what about magic? This is a notion that upsets some Christians, but if you step into Felantia you will find that the definition of it is clear and reflective of the faerie’s reality. I will give you a brief overview: The faerie world was created by ‘the Orator’ who designed everything as paintings then sung them into life using words. His words are solidified into a pedestal on which stands a lantern. The lantern emits radiance (his breath of power and understanding) and was forged from his sword (strength). The pedestal is indestructible. ‘Magic’ is the employment of the Orator’s words to make things happen – and they are powered by radiance. Obviously, the manipulation of nature can only occur if it fits in with the laws the Orator has put in place.

 So why of all fictional genres have I chosen fantasy? There are two reasons. Firstly, there is endless scope for illustration. I have no interest in painting a scene that could as easily be captured by a camera, unless I can add a fantasy creature, or experiment with the lighting, shapes and colours that I observe. I used to refer to a fairy foal as my ‘appreciation mark’ on the landscape. I enjoy playing with the natural world as if it was a giant toybox or a well-stocked craft room. Why draw an ordinary house? You can see houses in the street! But a faerie city that has grown within the hollow of a strangler fig offers enormous scope!

 Secondly, the world has become small and has lost much of its mystery. We have been everywhere. The days of Lilliput, and pirate yarns of bizarre, unexplored lands have ended. Even the moon and planets in our own solar system which were strange and mysterious to H.G. Wells and C.S. Lewis, have now been thoroughly investigated by science. Instead, we must go further – much further into space, or else employ other dimensions to run rampant with imagery and imagination.

 Apart from their artistic appeal, the benefit of faeries is that they are difficult to define. If you examine stories and myths from the past or the plethora of illustrations that a google search will give you, it only emphasises that this is a genre that can be taken in whatever direction you like. The terrifying Elf King of Schubert’s song does not bear any resemblance to the elves I remember from my Enid Blyton books as a child. Even within Tolkien’s own writing, elves evolved from mischievous singers of nonsense in The Hobbit, to much more serene beings in The Lord of the Rings. Similarly, faeries can be presented in the gently romantic style of Pre-Raphaelite art, as over- sexualised new age nymphs, or pink, sparkly creatures with stripy stockings.

 I would not describe my stories as ‘fairytales’ but rather adventure stories that involve faeries. In essence the stories must be good and the faeries an embellishment, not the other way around. I don’t want my stories to hang precariously on pretty pictures. I aim for solid substance that is beautified.

 Pure magic in either form can only be used by faeries. The words and power will not translate to humans as they were created in a different way.

 Having said that, I have expanded the world of magic to embrace ‘scie-gic’ which is a combination of science and magic; my premise being that the better you understand nature, the better you can manipulate it. Scie-gic is expressed in both ‘radiant’ and ‘dark’ forms and usually involves the invention of devices and machines that can deliver whatever magical command has been built into them. The advantage of this is that they can be used by those who are not trained in magical arts – including humans. Such machines allow for great illustrative potential! The concept of scie-gic also allows me to introduce (in a subtle way) some of the moral challenges that face modern humanity in scientific fields.

 There are advantages and disadvantages of being both writer and illustrator. One of the problems is that full colour paintings (I do it the old-fashioned way with no computer involvement) is a very time-consuming exercise. On the other hand, it helps me to imagine the fantastic scenery, or the characters involved if I illustrate them. Character development by illustration works very well for me – perhaps it engages a different part of my mind as I doodle and sketch. It brings out details I would not otherwise have thought of. Whether I am illustrating with paint or words, the result needs to have composition, texture, and in the case of words, the right sound. Tolkien held a dim view of book illustrations. He felt that they interfered with the readers personal imagination. I can see his point; even a detailed description with carefully chosen words is less defined than a painting, but to be fair, not everyone is adept in thinking in pictures or even in colour. For me, it is an inescapable part of my creative process. Not only that, but I have very fond memories of the picture books that I had growing up, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who used to skim through a book specifically to look at the illustrations!

 Motive is very important. Radiant magic is always sung and if it could be heard through the pages of a book it would be beautiful. This is reflective of the faeries’ close relationship with their natural environment – it was created with a song, and they live within the words of that song. Dark magic on the other hand, is the employment of self. It is not powered by radiance, but instead draws on whatever life happens to be around it, and thus when it is employed something dies. There is no music involved in its delivery, but it’s lure is subtle and powerful. You are a law unto yourself.

 This brings me to another question. Why don’t more novels for adults have pictures? We generally associate an illustrated book with children, but is that because adults don’t appreciate them? I don’t think so. And are children more inclined to want to delve into fantasy than adults? Not at all. I do not talk down to my younger readers because the writing process is a personal adventure, and I believe it is good for children to be stretched. I usually have a rough plot outline and destination in mind, but for the most part I’m making it up as I go along. Unexpected things do happen! When asked what age group I write for, I generally say 10 – 100. Can you ever be too old for a good yarn or adventure?

“… I have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!” – Bilbo Baggins

 Adventures in the real world are generally uncomfortable, but we are all happy to devour them from a comfortable armchair, whatever our age. We need to escape from the world of trouble that is our daily routine. Technology, science and mobile phones, world news (always bad), the grind of traffic and commuting, personal conflicts and difficulties. Even children whose problems often seem insignificant to us, regularly escape into the fantasy of their own games.

 There are always ‘those people’ who endlessly criticise the plausibility of a story or its scientific accuracy. I am reminded of astrophysicist Dr. Hugh Ross who when asked “Are you annoying to watch movies with?” replied without hesitation: “I can handle science fiction movies where they only violate the laws of physics at a rate of about one a minute!” Now of course I would hate to violate any laws of physics, (without sufficient fairytale explanation) or annoy anyone with inconsistencies! Artistic license can’t be entirely avoided, but it is something to be wary of. I aim to engage my audience not irritate them. The fantasy genre allows for a great deal, but if we are to truly relate to a character, the plot needs to be as tight as possible so that the adventure can be experienced without the distraction of unbelief. Tolkien referred to this engagement in fiction as ‘secondary belief,’ being the next step down from experiencing reality. As such it holds great power. I have always felt that being a creator means it is important to have a firm grip on truth and reality in order to step out of it. From what I have observed, the best abstract artists are those who have a grasp on how to illustrate realistically. They can then use their skills to produce an impressionist or abstract image that is able to communicate with everyday folk (as opposed to art critics!)

 Truth and reality are viewed by many as subjective these days, a notion which seems to me to be self-refuting. Christianity, and God as the ultimate author of this universe, is the reality on which I build my stories. Now I know that some may scoff at this definition of reality, but frankly it is an understanding that has grown and become increasingly profound throughout my life. Jesus plainly said, “I am the Truth…” and I have found that to be the case. The latest and greatest discoveries in science only serve to add firmer foundations to my faith. I refer to God as the ultimate author. He gave the universe its beginning and is Himself beyond time and space. He works throughout his created realm with meticulous detail and intent. He has designed the plot and will carry it out. As it says in the book of Job ‘No purpose of God can be thwarted.’ Inevitably my understanding of the bible and God’s purposes, influences my creative work. C.S Lewis was very literal in the way he incorporated his faith into fiction, whilst Tolkien took a more abstract approach. I think my work lies somewhere in-between. The Bug Dragon Project has only a hint of anything spiritual. Book two - 'The Felantia Files' has a lot more, but I don't want to push the spiritual element beyond being an underlying foundation.

 Atheism tells people that life is meaningless - that essentially there is no purpose or identity to our being beyond a few short years that will come to an abrupt and inescapable end. But deep down do we really believe that?

“Heaven is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.” - Stephen Hawking

“Atheism is a fairy story for people afraid of the light.” - John Lennox

 Humans crave that light, and a good story offers us a glimpse into a place where good triumphs over evil, impossible odds are overcome and justice is found. Love conquers all, there is heroism and sacrifice and (at least one) escape from death! Such themes resonate because they reflect a fundamental truth. This is what life should be like! Jesus is the underlying reality of all the longings expressed in fiction, and his resurrection is the proof that he was not just ‘one more story’.

 The Felantia series involves faeries, bug dragons, a giant dragonfly and a variety of other bizarre creatures in fantastic locations. There are strong and often discordant characters amongst the humans and the fae, mystery, action and the use of crazy scie-gic machines… but underneath it all, the words of the pedestal are alive and can never be destroyed.

'Fuzz' the fairy foal is renown for eating my favourite plants!

'Freekia' a bio-sciegologist uses dark magic in her manipulation of insects. (from The Felantia Files)

Nadia takes on the black magpies in 'The Bug Dragon Project'