Going back to the roots of stories I dreamed up when I was a child. Not to fix them—but to make them what they should have been.
Three books that share nothing—except the hand that wrote them: a voice that finally found itself, and came back to finish what it started.
A world a scared kid built in his head at thirteen. Mythical creatures, an emperor, an assassin, and the world they have to save. Never made for the masses—just for me. Which is why it feels more alive than anything I could build today.
A child's make-believe world, made real Visit the Site→Words put to paper that I didn't know how to say out loud. I was too young to describe them, but they were there. The weight is real, and important. The destination was never mine, and surviving the deepest thing is its own kind of story.
Difficult to say, but doesn't end the same Visit the Site→A small, close-knit town. Kids looking for adventure who bite off more than they can chew, and real-world danger they don't understand. The early 2010s, my favorite time. The world was on the verge of something, and these kids find that out personally, like I did. The kind of fun a writer can only have looking back on his own childhood from the outside.
Real stakes, pure fun Visit the Site→I'm not taking new works and making them work. I'm taking old works and making them what they should have been. A kid who felt too much, a kid who made up fantastical worlds, and a kid who just wanted to write for fun. All of them are me.
The thread that does tie them all together? Me. The same hands that wrote them have found a new voice to tell them. I'm making them again, but this time for real.
Same hands. Different voice. New stories.
Three original works, written for the first time, again. With the first-person voice they were missing. In order of how they were written.
For review copies, interviews, or media inquiries:
theo.galen@tkgpublishing.com