In Review: A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Thirty and in its Entirety

We’re finally here.

September 19th. One last look back at the journey that was A Fool’s Goddess.

In some ways, I’m relieved. I wasn’t always in the mood to write these reviews, but I pushed myself to do so because I felt it was important to monitor my progress as a writer. And in another, I’m quite sad. Concluding any ongoing project suddenly creates a void in your life that needs to be filled, and we often don’t realize just how disheartening those voids can be until it is too late.

Either way, I’m glad to have to have done this. Going over each chapter helped me realize several of my flaws so I could work towards improving in those areas, and it was also fun to have a place to dump my anecdotes and recent experiences. I could of course still do so but I guess I liked having an excuse. It’s also not like I don’t weave my opinions into my stories anyway, so really, there’s not much that’s actually changing.

Still, before I get into the review, I would like to express my appreciation to anyone who has read my past articles and/or this current one.

I can’t imagine these were particularly enthralling pieces to read, so often laden with tangents and bizarre ideas. I feel like they weren’t even really reviews half the time but more akin to one-sided discussions on creative theory. Yet they were all exactly what I wanted to write when I wrote them, and I hope that honesty managed to entertain you, even if just a little.

I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And with that said, let’s discuss the end of A Fool’s Goddess.

This chapter is what I feel is a very standard conclusion. It recaps and elaborates on the final events and does what it can to tie a nice little bow on everything. There aren’t any unique issues or story techniques I’d like to go into here, and the narrative lines presented are straightforward. We go into why Niv helped Asa, how Lior will continue his sculpting, and other notable events before closing out.

Because I had no intention of writing a sequel, I wanted to make sure things were as conclusive as possible. Originally—and here begins the behind-the-scenes reveals—I was planning to write a parallel novel that followed the story from Tornara’s perspective, but I ultimately dropped the idea in favor of writing new stories and for one other reason that I’ll get into more in a bit.

Basically, I wanted to make sure there weren’t any lingering questions. You could easily foresee the cast living out the rest of their days in relative peace and I didn’t feel like more needed to be said. At least not by the time I went through my final edit, that is.

In my first draft of A Fool’s Goddess, there was another chapter after this one. It took place forty (I think?) years after the end and showed Lior on his deathbed. He was passing due to liver failure—a polite nod to his excessive drinking—and intensified the closure by going over what the major cast did for the four decades following the events of the main story.

He dies shortly after that and finds himself on the mountain in Tornara’s portrait. There he meets his goddess and is able to have his first real conversation with her. They talk about love and the afterlife and their future together while watching the sun set, culminating in a very complete and gentle ending.

And I cut it because I thought it was shit.

For starters, that chapter was too fucking big, clocking in at around five thousand words. The novel was already way longer than I initially planned so it was one of my first choices for the chopping block, and the fact that I had some disdain for the whole section ended up getting it axed during the second draft.

My second reason—and probably the most important one—is that it was too conclusive.

Hear me out: I am not a fan of cliffhanger endings. I think stories that leave you wondering if the heroes succeeded or if it was all actually a dream are lazy. They do not strike me as creative or daring, but more that the creator was too fatheaded to actually tie up their major story threads.

But, while I would argue that you should never leave your readers hanging (the sole exception being at the end of the second entry in a trilogy), it is also important that you leave some room for their imagination. Just like with over-describing your scenes, giving every little detail on how a story ends takes away the reader’s participation. With how AFG ends, you might think, “Oh, I wonder if Lior going to be able to finish his monument”. But in my original draft, I cut you off and said, “Yes. Yes, he does”.

No mystery, no question, just a flat answer.

Sure, some people prefer that. I prefer that, to an extent. I’d rather you tell me Frodo went back to the Shire and jerked off for another two centuries than say he got to Mt. Doom and who fucking knows after that.

But I was thankfully able to realize that I was denying any imagination on the reader’s point by going into such needless detail. Chapter 30 is already extensive and conclusive—there is no reason to write a quick summary of events that transpired after the meat of the story occurred. That’s great for a long-running series, but some nobody’s first novel? Nah, man, cut that shit.

Thus, we arrive at Chapter 30’s overview before closing. Still a bit tedious, but not vomit-inducing. I can only hope you found it cleaner as well.

Now, the third and final reason I cut that fabled content is the same reason I tossed the idea for a parallel novel: I wanted to leave readers with the ability to doubt Tornara’s existence.

If you go over the novel in its entirety, there is nothing within it that could not be attributed to good luck or delusion. Lior’s sudden fixation on the portrait, his escape from Dostyn, the sight of Tornara in his dream—there is not a shred of magic or supernatural occurrence to be found in A Fool’s Goddess (besides Malka’s second-floor bathroom). There are plenty of incredibly fortunate events that Lior attributed to Tornara, but nothing that can only be explained through divine intervention.

Now, why did I do that? The short answer is that, at the end of the day, AFG is a story about faith. Lior believed wholly in his heretic goddess, and as we were seeing the world through his eyes, he contextualized everything around her existence. He meets plenty of people who doubt him, but he claims that they just haven’t felt her presence like he has. I endeavored to make sure Lior is aware that he could be seen as a madman, but he still toils in service of a goddess that could have never existed outside of his own imagination.

Asa is the one who brings that idea forward to Lior, though it would make me happy to know that at least one reader out there questioned Tornara from the beginning. Perhaps some doubt was cast on her from the outset, seeing as she apparently cursed Lior back in Unoph, but as the story follows Lior, readers are encouraged to see the goddess favorably. And as she seems to save our dumbass sculptor’s life on several occasions, why not? She’s apparently a benevolent god—who wouldn’t want to worship her?

But in order to maintain room for that doubt, I had to cut the final chapter and shut down the parallel novel idea. The chapter had Lior straight up meet Tornara, and I don’t want to imagine how the fuck you write a novel with a main character that doesn’t actually exist without it coming off as trite or confusing. Instead, we are left with the surface narrative that Tornara was at Lior’s side the entire time while his author was actually leaving room for her to be nothing more than a flight of fancy.

Sadistic.

Yet I think that was the best move.

I was much happier with the shorter conclusion, and granting readers space to question Tornara’s existence let me be more playful with the narrative. I really do love presenting a story in one way while leaving it open to alternative interpretations. Just as life is rarely clear-cut, I find joy in mucking up a reader’s perception through narrative voice. Not in a “this children’s show is actually super dark lol” fashion, but more in that those who do not lock themselves into a single view will find a little more to enjoy with my stories.

For exapmle, my light novel, Demon Healer Naberius, also does this in a simplified manner by having two alternating narrators. In addition, the fact that I even considered writing the parallel AFG probably showcases just how much I like multiple-angle storytelling. To me, showing a scenario from another point of view can be just as entertaining as moving on to a new story. It is my hope that I can create worlds that are perhaps not as expansive as others, but just as fulfilling when viewed through the lenses of their varied characters.

Consider this as well: the A Fool’s Goddess I wrote and the one you read are different books. As I will never be able to cast off the context of being that story’s writer, you are privy to see the story in a way I cannot. In that sense, you and I are separate characters that have seen this story from different angles, yet I can only live in envy of your unclouded view.

Though, if you’re interested, please feel free to describe it to me. I will gladly listen.

Now, as promised, I didn’t really have much else to say about Chapter 30 itself, and I’ve already gone over the big overarching reveals I had about the novel as a whole. But since this is the big finale, I also wanted to talk about some things I’ve learned over the past year, as well as drum out some final thoughts of my own. If you’re not sick of my anecdotes yet, buckle up—here’s our last ride.

Probably the most important lesson I’ve learned is that you are already good enough to start writing. I’ve mentioned it before, but for quite a while, I refused to call myself a writer or an author despite clearly being both. I held those titles in high regard and denied myself them because I felt I wasn’t good enough. I was under the impression I hadn’t read enough or written enough or met whatever the arbitrary fucking standard was, and so I considered myself an amateur. That is not to say I am not an amateur, of course—I’ve always got more room for growth. My point is that now I would say I’m an amateur writer/author.

So what changed? Why do I now allow myself those titles?

I realized I was doing it all out of fear. I didn’t want those mantles because I felt they came with expectations I wouldn’t be able to meet. Incredibly pathetic, really, but that’s why it was important for me to understand just how incorrect that line of thinking was.

Instead of taking joy in my successes, I focused entirely on where I was lacking. Rather than think “Holy shit, I actually wrote a goddamn novel”, my mind was consumed with “My paragraph structure looks so bland compared to Nisioisin’s…”. Obviously it’s good to look to others for ideas on how to improve, but not if you start ignoring your growth because you’re a sapling that can only see century oaks.

Be happy that you’ve sprouted a few leaves. You’ll need them to grow even bigger.

That’s why I say you’re already good enough. One of my favorite fighting game personalities, Sajam, talks constantly about the imaginary barriers people have set up around fighting games. There is the misperception that you need to spend a shitzillion hours in training mode before fighting others, but I can say from personal experience that mastering that dope corner combo won’t mean shit if you don’t have any feeling for fighting a real human. As Sajam has put it, “there is no ‘your footsies must be this good before going online’ sign in any game ever”. You’ll learn way more just going online and mashing buttons.

Writing is no different. I have seen plenty of people say shit along the lines of you must read all of the Greeks and be able to type at 200 WPM and understand the nuances of every conjugation before writing anything, but that’s a load of malarkey. I don’t even know what the fuck a conjugation is, yet two guys on Amazon picked up Demon Healer Naberius and said it was “well-written”. That means I’m either attracting like-minded individuals who don’t care for that crap or that information is not necessary at the level of a beginner.

So just start writing.

I do understand why people are tricked by that gatekeeping, however. Humans don’t like failure, and that’s okay. Our primate brains know that failure=bad, so it’s only natural for us to go to lengths to avoid it. I was terribly scared that when I released A Fool’s Goddess that I was going to get torn to shreds about its low quality or other issues. Yet that didn’t happen.

Instead, I got something much worse: silence.

The only people who reviewed it were friends and family, and it sold maybe ten copies total. Not a single stranger told me it was terrible, sure, but I would argue that having people tell you you’re shit at least puts you on the fast track to realizing your flaws. Not getting any feedback leaves you in purgatory, and it’s up to you to find out what you did that kept your story from appealing to others. It made me feel terrible, and it’s what drove me to this review series and the later permanent drop in price for A Fool’s Goddess.

And that feeling left me full of regret. I began to wish that I had never written or released the story and that I had just quashed my inspiration so I could go back to the quiet life of a consumer. I hated myself and writing in general, to the point I even loathed those who had inspired me to write in the first place. I felt like they had cursed me.

And yet I hung on for God-knows-why. I kept at it and wrote a few more pieces I enjoyed creating, with one standing out strongly enough that I decided it deserved to be released. And you know what? I’m very happy I did. Demon Healer Naberius has already gotten a better response—the clearest sign of growth I could ask for. I’m probably still garbage and will continue to be garbage for some time, but quality isn’t a binary switch. You must be awful before you can be wonderful.

Besides, shit is what fertilizes the growth of that sapling.

Losing sucks, but you’ll never win if you don’t even play. I encourage you to put your first crappy stories out into the world and let those missteps guide you. Be imperfect and be honest with yourself. I firmly believe that more people will find joy in a flawed piece that comes from your heart than a sharpened one that came after you killed your own passion for writing.

If you love your stories, someone else will too. So don’t leave your beloved tales to die stillborn in your soul.

You—and they—deserve better.

Let’s see… The other big lesson that comes to mind would be to build habits, but love yourself. I’m still pretty bad at this one and trying to get better, but I’ll share what I’ve learned.

Back when I decided to give writing a serious shot, I told myself I needed to write for one hour a day and that I was free to do whatever the fuck else I wanted after that. I stuck to it mostly, excluding days I was just too wiped from work. I often felt like I wanted to do more, but my brain just couldn’t manage it so I almost always quit after that hour.

My family thought that was impressive, but I still pushed myself to write a little more each night. After a while, I started doing an hour and a half, then two hours. Nowadays, I typically write for around four hours each evening and will push for seven or more on my days off.

Hence the first half of that lesson: build habits. There’s a ton of self-help books that will reaffirm that idea, but if you need to see it here, I’ll say that the quickest way to build a skill is to just do it consistently. It then becomes a habit, and if you’re like me, you start suffering severe nightmares if you go more than two days without it.

That’s not a joke. I literally broke my brain in a way that makes me reliant on writing. It’s fucking weird, but I guess since I was doing it anyway, it’s okay?

If not, please help.

As for the second half, “love yourself”, I bring that up because while I can do my four hours daily, I sometimes do it when I shouldn’t. I’ll push myself to write even when I’m exhausted, stressed, or sleep-deprived, and I’m never happy with the results. The writing I’ll put out will be shit that has to be redone and I’ll feel like crap the next day. But I keep doing it because I feel like I’m failing myself if I don’t.

That’s why I want you to love yourself. Understand that you are a human with limitations. Creative types naturally desire progress and growth, but you shouldn’t obtain such at the expense of your health or sanity. Treat yourself like a friend and don’t push unreasonable standards on your mortal body.

Hopefully I’ll be able to internalize that lesson soon. I hate being a hypocrite, but I’m really bad at stopping myself in the middle of a writing groove even though I see it’s 2 am and I’ve got work in five hours. Some say that’s passion, but I can’t help but see it as stupidity as well. Either way, I’ll continue to work towards not killing myself.

For a final lesson, let’s go with turn your flaws into features. Since that sounds like really shitty QA for a video game, let me dive a little deeper. What I mean is to examine what weaknesses you have in writing and to twist them to your advantage.

I wrote a couple weeks ago about how I feel I’m not good at action sequences so I instead focused on dialogue. While I still endeavored to improve on action and description, I used that weakness as an excuse to present more character-focused stories, and I’m very happy with what I’ve been able to create through that focus. Likewise, my discomfort for villains leads me to write stories that don’t have drastically sinister antagonists, allowing me to double-down on my alternative view bullshit.

So if you find yourself unsatisfied with your characters, consider writing more environmental stories or using protagonists that don’t display large amounts of personality, such as golems or robots. If you can’t stand seriousness, focus on your comedy or present a more casual story. You may find yourself in possession of a unique style because of it.

Remember: limitation breeds creativity. Acknowledging your weaknesses and avoiding them may seem weak or cowardly, but you must also realize that you’re giving up tools other writers may have available to them. If you don’t use dialogue because you don’t like it, you have to communicate your characters interactions through other ways. Such limitation may in fact lead you to creating that gem of a story that could only come from you.

You’re telling your story—do it in the manner that feels right to you.

…

…Well.

I think that’s about it for my big lessons. There’s plenty more I could share and even more I will learn long after this has been published, but that’s neither here nor there. Like my novel, it’s time I closed out—without an extra fluffy final chapter.

With this article, I’ll be done posting chapters and reviews of A Fool’s Goddess, and subsequently, my website here will not see regular updates for some time. I’ve got some upcoming plans that will lead to a post within a month, but I’m gonna take an indefinite break from the weekly stuff. I’d like to come back and maybe share my old short stories or some other anecdotal pieces, but I’m not promising anything. I apologize if that upsets anyone.

But I do hope you’ll look forward to seeing what stories I’ll release next. I’ve definitely got at least one more coming out this year and another one that will either hit sometime late in December or early next year. I’d like to get on a schedule of creating and releasing three or four books a year, but we’ll see how compatible that is with pacing myself. Either way, please stay tuned.

Lastly, if you’d like to talk to the face behind all these words, you can hit me up via the social links in the top right. I’d love to hear any feedback you might have, but if you also just want more photos of my dogs, I’m happy to share.

And with that, we close the curtains. Writing all these reviews has been fun so I hope you’ve had a decent time as well. If I managed to help you in any way, then I take satisfaction in doing my part to battle the entropy of this world. But I promise you this: I’m not done writing and will not stop until my heart does.

I wish you nothing but the best, dear reader. Stay safe and stay healthy, and I’ll see you next time.

Varnicrast out.