5 Piece of Dad Advice for Fantasy Writers

By Jacklyn Walters

Ahhh dads.

You either love ’em, hate ’em, or have a very complex relationship riddled with deeply rooted childhood hostility and poor communication with ’em.

The list of best literary father figures is… honestly not very long. But it includes the likes of Atticus Finch, Mr. Bennet, and, of course, Charlie Swan. I was lucky enough to get a dad who’s a pretty even split of all three. (Makes you understand my writing a little more, no?)

Whether your father is all too present, entirely absent, or somewhere in between, dads pretty much exist to see things pragmatically and say things that make you groan but, ultimately, are pretty insightful.

Brian—my father—was, and remains to this day, a treasure trove of quotable one-liners. Some were daily reminders. Some were mantras during hard times (read: every Thursday night when I had to do the dishes). Some were things that only needed to be said once to achieve their desired impact.

From off-handed comments during PBS cooking shows to the best Cards Against Humanity haiku of all time, when Brian had something to say, you listened. Because it was probably something that was going to stick with you.

So without further ado, I present to you the top four things my dad has said that have made me a better person and a better writer.

1. Once begun the job’s half done.

Start. Just start.

This applies to every single thing in your life, from getting out of bed to pursuing your most outlandish dreams.

I’m pretty sure this is paraphrased from one of the scariest children’s movies of all time. Childhood trauma aside, it’s true.

It can be difficult to know how to begin writing a novel. Whether it’s your first story or your fifth, the hardest part of writing is sitting down and starting. Not opening a bunch of tabs you don’t need or sitting at your desk scrolling on your phone. Actually putting words down on the page.

Your first draft is your worst draft and that’s just the way it works. You can edit garbage but you can’t edit nothing. So finish this blog and then go begin—actually begin—your next project.

2. Use the F word.

Effort.

The F word in our house, among the standard array of F words, was effort.

It doesn’t matter if you’re good at something, or whether you like it or not. If you’re going to do something you better give it the old college try. Use a little elbow grease. Do it with your whole ass (as opposed to half assed).

When you write without heart, it shows. Your own spunk for your story is what keeps readers engaged. It’s what makes your story interesting.

If you’re writing without using the F word, you might as well not write at all.

3. Don’t take it personally, take it seriously.

When Brian said this, I’m pretty sure I muttered the real F word.

This one wasn’t actually directed at me. Thank god for that because it probably would’ve destroyed me.

It did stick, though. And it’s helped me with, well, everything honestly. But when it comes to writing, it reminds me not to be a brat about edits.

Do not take edits personally. Absolutely take them seriously.

The editing process comes for us all. It takes hold of our precious creation and rips out its throat. But guess what? You put the throat in the wrong place so it needed to be ripped out in order to be put in its proper place and function correctly within the system. I hope I’ve garbled up that metaphor enough that you get the point.

4. Have fun, be safe, not in that order.

I always took this as “have fun, be safe, exactly in that order.” That’s how I’d like you to interpret this as well.

Have fun! Run wild. Frolic through the fields of your imagination. Dillydally in rows of prose. Write everything that’s been spinning around in your little head.

Do not judge yourself. Do not question what is coming. Do not hold back. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Then, and only then, be safe. Go through and scrutinize what you have. Move things around. Make it read like a story and not just a brain dump.

Brian taught me that “have fun” and “be safe” are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they are unlikely companions. Think of them as a real-life enemies-to-lovers trope. It seems like one should lead to the demise of the other, but they actually make each other better in the end.

5. You’ll never get answers to the questions you don’t ask.

Closed mouths don’t get fed, dear reader. Be curious. Investigate your ideas. Explore new ways of writing and working and creating characters.

More than that, take action.

Read and reread your piece. Ask questions until you’re blue in the face and demand answers. From others in life, and from yourself in your work.

Having a dad can be a lot of work. But so is being a writer. Consider your time with your dad training for when you write your next bestseller.

No matter your current standing with your father, you are always free to lean on the advice of mine. And, on his behalf, you’ve got this and we’re proud of you.