Fantasy author Robert A. Walker is chatting with me about his new medieval fantasy novel, Six Moons, Seven Gods, today.
Bio:
Robert A. Walker grew up in Northwestern Massachusetts. After graduating college, he packed his scant belongings in a car with rusted-out floorboards and headed west. He’s lived in California ever since, and now resides along the Pacific Ocean with his wife and dogs. When not fabricating stories, he can be found roaming local tennis courts or working on a never-ending list of DIY house projects. Information regarding Robert’s current writing projects can be found at rawalkerwriting.com.
Welcome, Robert, what inspired you to write this book?
I’ve been wanting to write novels ever since I was a child. When I finally found time to put pen to paper, Six Moons, Seven Gods is what flowed out. I can’t say there was any specific inspiration, but I was definitely motivated to write a fictional story that would entertain. I will say that the movie Camelot had a profound impact on me when I was young; my father read Tolkien to me and my sisters, and later in life I thoroughly enjoyed reading Herbert’s Dune series and Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastard series to my son. So I suppose a bit of all of that helped to inspire me.
Excerpt from Six Moons, Seven Gods:
The ominous beating of drums could be heard even from the dungeon.
Reynard sought to mask the sound with his voice. “When we get out of here, perhaps we should return to a simpler life.” Spiro sat beside him, clad in nothing but his undergarments, bruised and beaten nearly beyond recognition. Reynard edged closer to him and reached out to touch his arm. “I mean, these past few days…picking pockets and locks…watching you wield your knives…I haven’t felt this alive in years. We’ll come back and rob this castle…just you wait and see. We could do that, you know, you and I.”
“I’ve lost the knives you gifted me,” said Spiro softly.
Bastards! “No matter. I’ll replace them, shall I?”
The beating of drums grew louder. Did someone just open a door to the outside world?
“Listen to me, Spiro. Death is nothing to fear. Nothing at all. It is, in fact, the very essence of nothingness. All your senses gone—disappeared. You feel nothing. See nothing. Hear… well, you get my meaning. Death is such an ugly word. We should not use it. We should instead say ‘nothing.’ He met his ‘nothing’ on the battlefield. I hope to be quite old when ‘nothing’ comes for me. You see? Death itself is nothing to fear.”
Spiro shook his head. “Makes no sense.”
Both men listened as the sound of rhythmic bootsteps joined the drumming.
“It makes nothing but sense,“ said Reynard, trying to stay calm. “How can you fear nothingness? The manner in which it comes for us…that is all that matters.” The bootsteps grew louder, clacking sharply down the dungeon passageway. “I should like to die whilst my knob is gliding up and down some buxom lass’ slippery canal, or dreaming of gold sovereigns raining down on me. For you, perhaps, it’s fighting dragons with your dagger, or drowning in a bowl of mutton stew. These are the sorts of things you must imagine whilst we are on stage today.”
“On stage? Oh, that’s rich, that is!” A burly guard laughed, appearing outside their cell. Four soldiers emerged behind him, swords drawn and shouldered. “There’s no dragons where you’re going, friends. More like a giant blade, dropped from the heavens on your scrawny necks! That’s a dream come true for you today!”
“Don’t listen to him,” said Reynard.
“Oh, that’s right. Listen to this one.” The guard scoffed. “And look where that’s got ya!” He prepared to put the key in the padlock. “Show me your hands!”
What exciting project are you working on next?
I’m currently drafting the sequel to Six Moons, Seven Gods, and having a lot of fun with that!
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I’ve considered myself a writer (small “w”) for as long as I can remember. My second-grade teacher read my short story titled “Tips, A Dog, and Cuddles, A Cat” to my entire class when I was 7. But I didn’t consider myself a Writer (capital “w”) until Six Moons, Seven Gods was actually published.
Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your workday like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I don’t write full-time. I’m retired now, so I write when the feeling moves me. When I’m not writing, I’m working on the house (love to tinker and remodel!) or trying to improve my tennis game.
What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I plot best when lying on my back, whereas I write best when listening to music.
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A park ranger.
Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Only that if you’ve read my work, I’d love to hear from you. There’s nothing better than hearing from folks who have immersed themselves in, and enjoyed, the story one’s created.
And, of course, a heartfelt thanks to Lisa for this opportunity to connect with you, the reader!