fantasy writer

A Return to Midkemia Rereading The Magician

/ Author Simon Phillips / Leave a comment

Some books never really leave you.

Even when they’re tucked on a shelf or buried behind newer titles, their stories linger. A sentence, a scene, a spell you didn’t quite understand the first time, it waits. And then one day, without planning to, you find yourself reaching for that book again.

This week, for what might be the fifth… or sixth time (I’ve honestly lost count), I picked up The Magician by Raymond E. Feist.

It wasn’t for research. It wasn’t for content. It wasn’t even because I had a review planned, though I probably will do one soon.

It was comfort. Familiar. Like slipping into an old cloak that still smells of cold air and campfires.

Not Just a Fantasy Classic, It’s a Personal One

I first read The Magician when I was much younger. I remember being drawn in by the idea of a world that felt so real, yet entirely imagined. There was something alive beneath the pages, something that stretched beyond just Pug’s journey. The kingdoms, the magic, the war between worlds, it planted a seed.

Years later, I can see just how much it shaped my own writing.

The novel I’m currently working on: The Veil of Kings and Gods, owes more than a little to that early inspiration. Not in structure or setting, but in feeling. In that desire to build something layered. Something with blood and dirt and ancient magic still echoing through the stones. Something with characters who don’t always say the right thing, who make mistakes, who grow.

Rereading it now, as someone building their own world and story, hits differently.

I see the gears turning. I notice choices I didn’t catch before, what Feist reveals and withholds. Where he lingers. Where he lets silence speak. And, maybe most of all, I see how much freedom there is in the early pages of a world you’ve only just started to map.

No Pressure, Just Pages

I’ll save the full review for another day. One where I can dig into the structure, the craft, and why this book still holds up decades later.

But for now, this reread has reminded me that sometimes, you don’t need to analyse a book to love it. You don’t need to annotate the margins or write notes on pacing. You just need to sit with it. Let it wash over you again.

Not every read needs to be productive. Some are just for the soul.

What I’m Thinking About Now

Maybe you have a book like that. One you return to when your own pages feel stuck. One that reminds you why you write or why you started writing.

If so, I’d love to hear what it is.

And if you’ve never read The Magician, maybe this is your sign to give it a go. Or to dust it off and re-enter Midkemia for a while.

There’s something magical about going back.

How I Stay Inspired While Writing the Same Story for Years

/ Author Simon Phillips / Leave a comment

Writing a novel isn’t always a straight path. For me, it’s been more like a winding mountain trail, sometimes clear and exciting, other times foggy and slow. I’ve been working on The Veil of Kings and Gods for years now. The world, the characters, and the themes have all evolved over time. And yet, somehow, I’ve never walked away from it.

So how do I stay inspired?

It’s not some mystical lightning bolt. It’s smaller than that, quieter. Sometimes it’s rediscovering an old scene I wrote months ago that still makes me smile. Other times it’s worldbuilding, filling in the map of Ældorra, thinking about what life is like in a ruined empire or how a long-forgotten piece of magic reshapes a character’s fate.

I also let the story grow with me. When I started this book, I was in a very different place in life. But I didn’t throw it out and start over. Instead, I’ve allowed my voice, my ideas, and my perspective to shift as the years have passed. I’ve rewritten, restructured, and reimagined, but never lost the heart of it.

What helps most, though, is this: I don’t pressure myself to rush.

This is a story I care about. I want it to be the best version of itself, not the fastest one. That mindset keeps the love alive. Some days I only manage a few lines. Other days I go deep. But each word brings me closer to the story I want to share.

If you’re writing something that’s taken years, you’re not alone. Let it take the time it needs. Let it change with you. The story will be stronger for it.

I’d love to hear about your long-term projects. What keeps you going? What has changed since you started?

Inside the Life of an Aspiring Author

/ Author Simon Phillips / Leave a comment

Most people imagine authors as curled up in quiet rooms, sipping tea and watching the words pour effortlessly onto the page. A kind of literary tranquillity, wrapped in books and warmed by candlelight.

I wish that were true.

The reality, at least for me, is far from romantic. It’s writing between real-life responsibilities, when the house is quiet and the world finally pauses. I’ve made a decision to pursue this dream fully, working extra hours not because I love the grind, but because that income, after family needs, goes straight into editing, proofreading, and eventually publishing. I’m investing in my own story, one sacrifice at a time.

My day is a patchwork of obligations. I run a small English school in Japan, manage creative routines around work and home life, and still find time to draw maps, script lore videos, and edit chapters that feel like they’ll never end. I’m not yet published. I’m not famous. But I’m building something, page by page, post by post.

There’s a mental weight to this work that few talk about. Some days, I stare at a sentence for an hour, unsure if it even belongs. Other days, it all flows so quickly I can barely keep up. The emotional shifts are real, self-doubt, exhaustion, the nagging feeling that I should be doing something more “practical.” But then a scene clicks. A piece of world-building locks into place. And for a moment, it feels like magic again.

So why do I keep going?

Because I believe in the stories I’m telling. The Veil of Kings and Gods is more than a novel, it’s a world I’ve carried for years. The short stories of Ældorra let me explore lost myths and haunted corners I’ve only glimpsed in dreams. And my sci-fi series, still in early development, pushes me to imagine a future I can barely articulate.

I don’t know when success will come, or even what it’ll look like when it does. But I know this: I want to create worlds that feel real, dangerous, and beautiful. Worlds where characters fight for something, where gods whisper from beyond, and where the weight of time never fully lifts.