I have a friend who recently told me that with Swords & Soapery I was “capturing a bit of the spirit and heart and awe of the fantasy adventure genre”. I consider my friend significantly more versed in the genre than I am, so I felt honored by the flattering, heartfelt comment which stuck with me most of the day. While I may not necessarily have my path all figured out (it IS a fledgeling business and a very new and unique idea), I think his comment summarized my intent better than anything I have come up with so far. 

This endeavor stemmed from my love of all things fantasy and the insatiable thirst that comes with spending so much time in fictional worlds with characters so many of us have come to love. As many times as some of us have seen the Lord of the Rings trilogy, even the more minor characters like Faramir and Lobelia Sackville Baggins feel like our own neighbors. We cringe when we hear that knock on Bilbo’s door because we know good and well she’s after those spoons again. We watch Eowyn with Aragorn all the while willing her to just wait, that she hasn’t met her One yet and Faramir is every bit as regal as Aragorn. We feel Theoden’s pain as he grieves for his dead son. In other worlds, we feel the loneliness of Drizzt as he seeks a better life and we dread the impending doom of Camelot and the breaking of the Round Table. 

But it’s about more than the characters. 

We feel the thick mysterious forests of Camelot closing in around us, the cold darkness of Menzobarranzan as its thickness touches our skin, the hum of magic in Dumbledor’s office inciting our curiosity, the pierce of the Blinding Knife as it penetrates Gavin’s chest. We smell the salty tang of the docks as the Seanchan pull their ships into the harbor at Ebou Dar. the putrid stench of Cirith Ungol as Sam and Frodo escape the orcs, the bright vanilla of Longbottom leaf as Merry and Pippin celebrate Saruman’s defeat. 

We smell the cordite when Gandalf fires off the fireworks at Bilbo’s party, the smoky butterscotch ale in the Prancing Pony, the sulfurous swamps of Nyissa. 

We hear the discordant screeching of the Nazgul, the gentle roar of the falls in Rivendell, the clang of Bruenor’s forge, the Horn of Gondor as Borromir signals for help. 

We see the bucolic rolling hills of the Shire and feel the peace in that forgotten region of Middle Earth. We see the jagged chasms of the Eye of the World and feel Lews Therin’s pain. We see the glorious arched passageways and ornate halls of Moria and feel the devastating loss as if it was our own. We see the ten thousand troops of Mordor in the Pelennor Fields and feel the hopelessness of Theoden but then we see the shining countenance of Gandalf the White as he crests the hill with mighty Rhohirrim and we are filled with such overjoying hope that salvation will come to those of Middle Earth. 

The excitement of adventure as the Fellowship makes their way to Mount Doom, the driving determination of Moraine Sedai to get five young people to the White Tower, the sorrow of sacrifice as Vin looks down from the heavens on her loved ones as she gives her life to save them. 

Fantasy does not merely play on the surface of our minds. It delves into our hearts, our emotions, our very souls wrenching feelings from deep within us and daring our physical form to hide our response. It makes us laugh. It makes us cry. It inspires us to do better, to be better, to have courage – to live. And more often than not, it gives us a heavy reminder that time is fleeting and not guaranteed to any of us. 

These individualized responses are the very definition of the fantasy genre. It aims above all else – to feel. Deeply. To escape into a world where we dare to feel the full range of emotion that is stifled in our own world. To feel the freedom to roam unencumbered by the weight of our own rules and norms. To hope for a world better than our own, not tainted by the problems we face every day but by something more. Something that matters in the grand scheme of things. This, friends, is the spirit of fantasy. The heart of fantasy. And the awe we feel as we step across that threshold into the waiting world beyond. 

Until the next adventure….