Beyond Everything
Beyond the novel I plan to write, beyond myself, beyond my desires and aspirations; what was my reason for writing this series, and why do I want to write it now, after all this time? Time swiftly flows by. The single-book story I began worldbuilding rather naively at the age of ten or eleven has been expanding, changing, and evolving for over a decade. Moreover, this evolution no longer comes solely from me, the author. Now, the universe and its characters are developing on their own. I guess this means it’s finally the right time to write this series. Nearly a decade, a damn long decade. It has been a decade since I, who had written nothing but a few compositions in middle school, began to solidify my writing style, develop my way of thinking and descriptive style. It’s the tenth year of stories I’ve written, the stories I’ve played in tabletop role-playing games with my friends. Perhaps there’s no connection between what I started writing back then and the novel I’m writing today. Yet, the story that started with me drawing a rough map on a blank page now feels deserving of being written. That’s why I’m writing—not to be read, not to be loved, not to make a few pennies, but because it deserves to be written.
In the beginning, there was only emptiness, a stark white emptiness, an infinite emptiness. Though not truly infinite—only as vast as a page. Still, I can say that the locations of my story—castles, forests, continents, the world—largely resemble those from ten years ago. Initially, I thought this was rather childish, yet it also bears a strong resemblance to historical maps. As a child, I was extremely fond of reading travelogues and diaries written in the early and late Middle Ages, so I believe this has positively influenced me beyond my awareness. Of course, there will be errors unique to a ‘fantastic world’ in this design of the world, but I don’t see that as a problem. I think drowning in the mechanics of every detail kills literature, which is why, over time, I’ve grown to like these mistakes, albeit reluctantly.
From where do I write this? How do I write? Why do I write? I live in Turkey, a geography where fantasy fiction is not very popular. This is actually more significant than you might think. I felt the impact of a population with a very low reading rate even when I was young, which is why I hesitated to write fantasy fiction and preferred to occupy myself with more basic foundations. The series of novels I now plan was once intended to be a single book that I thought would be a unique volume in my library, written only for myself to read. Now, I am writing in two languages. One is Turkish, possibly to encourage someone like me who is eager to write in this genre, and of course, because I can express my thoughts more comfortably in my native language. The other language is English, one of the most spoken languages in the world, which will likely help me reach a readership, if there is one to be reached. Learning a second language to the point of being able to write literature in it is incredibly difficult for someone with dyslexia. To be honest, I receive tremendous support from my girlfriend, Sıla Yılmaz, in translations; I can say that she is an angel protecting me against my own pessimism. I plan to publish the book both on my website and on platforms like Royal Road and Wattpad, at least the first book of the series which I am currently writing, ‘Winds of Night.’ To be honest, I’m not sure what I will do afterwards, but it seems that the only important thing at this point is to continue writing. Maybe one day I can actually publish the book in both languages and place it in my favorite corner of my library.
To be frank, there were times I thought about giving up on writing the series; if you’ve ever embarked on such an endeavor, you’ve probably felt the same. I believe one of the things people can understand most easily about each other is the weight of despair, especially the kind you feel when faced with the reality that a book, likely never to be completed, probably won’t be read. Yet sometimes, certain events in your life can smash through your despair and your solid walls. They might not help you overcome your despair or pessimism, but they can at least gather the courage to fight it. For me, this dark event was the loss of one of my two brothers last year. Losing him in a tragic and bloody way confined me within myself for a very long time, but it also forced me to confront myself. It doesn’t matter if I fail, I told myself, what matters is that I tried. The burden of death teaches you things that are quite different when you witness them with your own eyes; sometimes, it teaches you not to fear in life, at least occasionally. I wanted to add a piece of myself and my brother to my story, which is why I started writing again.
