At this stage, I'm fairly certain that the re-release of my first book Rafen will be happening in the near future (before August of this year - or as soon as possible, I believe). In the meantime, I've been working on two other projects, one of which I have finished. However, this does mean I have neglected my blog!

Whatever I write, I always love to explore big themes. Life itself is complex, and it inspires big questions. My writing has often been a subconscious effort to process some of the things I have struggled to understand about the world around me. One such thing has been freedom.
Freedom. It's the word that every child and teenager obsesses over to some extent. In our youth, we all fantasise about freedom from our teachers, our parents, the authorities above us, and so on. Teenagers get to an age where they feel life would be so much better if only they could make their own decisions without reference to anybody.

I certainly felt this way as a child and teenager. There were other questions I asked as well, however. Questions that related to me personally. Could one ever be free of the past? Of things and events one was ashamed of? Could one ever shed one's "history" and embrace the future without any such burdens?

As these questions were somewhat all-consuming for me at the time, they made their way into Rafen in some shape or form. Rafen is enslaved to the tyrant King Talmon in Tarhia. He has no personal freedom, and even his body is just a tool for somebody else's work. Talmon's ownership over Rafen is seen vividly in several ways.

1. Rafen has a number, not a name - 237. He was not even allowed to know his name.
2. Rafen is not allowed to learn the Tongue, the language of the free world beyond Tarhia. Tarhian ties him to a people in bondage and chains him to his master.
3. Rafen's basic living conditions are controlled. He is imprisoned in a cell in isolation and thus is fenced off from any other influences (or so Talmon thinks). His food and drink are rationed, as are his clothes. He has no control even over his own personal hygiene.

After King Talmon had killed his parents, Rafen had lived in a cell from age two upward, and at four they had branded 237 on his ankle and forced him to work in the coal mine... And so he had lived: a little underground animal who did as he was told. Yet he itched. He shouldn’t have expected more, but he did.


According to the three facets of Rafen's slavery above, Rafen's being free would consist of his having an identity, having knowledge of the outside world that would allow him to move about in it, and having control of his own living conditions. Rafen attains most of these things and yet still doesn't feel free. His past haunts him, and he cannot make peace with it. As a result, he feels threatened wherever he goes, certain that he will be hurt or dragged back into slavery some way. 

After all, the great cell was wider than four walls. It was seen in the ghostly spies lingering in the places of freedom, in the sidelong looks strangers gave him; its ceiling was the suspicion in his mind, the memories that wouldn’t die, the smiles that never quite reached his eyes and failed to warm his heart.
Tarhia would always win in the end.

Did I even answer my own questions with this book? Or did I remain forever a cynic? The above words certainly seem incredibly cynical.
It turns out within the space of half a night that Rafen's perspective has changed, because he has met the Phoenix Zion. The response to my deepest soul searching was this: we can't be free unless we are radically and powerfully redefined. Without a divine Creator to rename us and seal our identities, we remain forever enslaved and easily manipulated. 

He decided he wouldn’t be afraid. He raised his hand to the feather above his heart. He was the Fledgling.

Leading up to the mysterious re-release date of Rafen, I thought it would be fitting to write about a few of the themes that I intentionally put into my books. I know that sometimes my "themes" are misconstrued to be witchery. Today, I'd like to talk about what I actually intended to go into my novels - in particular, book one: Rafen. Doubtless when I was seventeen, writing the final draft of this book which would one day be published roughly in that state, I thought I was being very clever and political and deep. Perhaps I was. More likely not. Anyway, to find out, read on.

One of the main themes that I wrote about in this book was identity. Identity could be the watch word of modern day western society. Interestingly enough, it is often the invisible motivator for many fads, movements, and social revolutions. Being lesbian or gay is a way of affirming one's identity. Being transgender is yet another way. A climate change activist may, by defining themselves as such, find meaning and purpose in their life. What job we have and how successful we are is a further measure of identity (although it seems that nothing can trump sexuality, which to my mind remains the greatest factor by which western society appears to define themselves and their identities). 

The child Rafen begins the book with no identity. He dreams of running for a phoenix feather, which he wants although he doesn't know why. He wakes to the grim reality of the branded number on his ankle which brands him as two-three-seven, a slave, "a little underground animal who did as he was told. Yet he itched. He shouldn’t have expected more, but he did". Rafen's dream leads him to the conclusion that "he didn't belong here", with here being Tarhia, the land in which he is enslaved and imprisoned. 

The phoenix feather dream has given Rafen a sense of identity that he has never had. He was not the only contestant for a feather. Two other men ran with him, and he instinctively knew they were kings. Rafen, not long after this, rejects his identity as a slave. It is this rejection that leads him on a journey of pain, sorrow, struggle, and eventually to form of freedom in which he is still pursued by his previous captors. Throughout this journey, his tormentors work hard to force his previous identity onto him.

“I know what you think,” Talmon said in Tongue. “You think that Etana will somehow escape the hundreds of men I have after her. You think that she will call her father, and though she is heir to the Sianian throne, she will plead for a dirty Tarhian slave boy. You think the king of Siana will travel the three months’ journey in the week before your execution and then bring his ship into enemy territory to find you. You think you are important. You are not.
“Now come here, two-three-seven!”


​“I have heard of two-three-seven,” the officer went on. “He was socializing with a princess yesterday. That probably made him decide he was above working in the mine.”

When Rafen arrives in Siana, the land of freedom that he has escaped to, he begins the difficult internal battle of figuring out who he actually is. Those around him tell him that because he bears a sacred name that his mother gave to him, he must worship the Phoenix God that it refers to. Rafen fears he will lose his identity through worship, by succumbing to another master. All this is the reason that the tagline of the book reads: "Your name will change your life forever". Rafen's name is a vital clue to his final identity.

Rafen resists the Sianian culture of worshipping the Phoenix, although he is still obsessed with the idea of receiving a phoenix feather. In the meantime, his enemies who had previously enslaved him because of the name he possessed have caught up with him. Roger, the old Tarhian general, throws Rafen out of his own chamber window late one night - but not before once again hoping to seal Rafen's identity forever in death.

"His Grace [Talmon] says you can never be free."

Then he releases Rafen's ankle and lets him to drop to his apparent death. Rafen is miraculously saved by catching onto a wide window ledge. The miracle itself leads him to cry out to Zion, the Phoenix, for help. Guided by a voice speaking to him, he flees the Sianian palace and heads into the neighbouring woods, where he at last is offered a feather by the Phoenix himself.

With an effort, Rafen pulled back. He wanted it, but he would die if he took it... he stared at the feather, tears in his eyes.

Rafen fears that if he accepts the feather, his identity will forever be defined as a hero ordained by the Sianian Phoenix, meaning he will always be hunted. At this point, he would rather die than have an identity. He would rather remain the ex-slave than someone truly freed by who he is.

The hesitation passes and he takes the feather. Just hours after receiving it, he returns to the Sianian palace, where his own enemies are actually attacking the king of Siana, seeking to kill him. 

Rafen decided he wouldn’t be afraid. He raised his hand to the feather above his heart. He was the Fledgling.

Upon confronting Roger again - his would-be murderer, Rafen isn't afraid to introduce himself as the Fledgling of the Phoenix, the very translation of his name. His identity frees him to battle his enemies with new courage and send them fleeing.

What was I trying to do with this theme? A couple of things.
1. I believe personally that bearing a false identity or definition of yourself will enslave you, until at last you know who you really are. A false identity not only enslaves you... it effaces your true self.
2. I believe it's impossible to know who you really are on an individual basis. We are defined in relation to someone. I believe we are defined in relation to our Creator. True identity frees us from fear and enables us to overcome our personal battles. Until we find it, we are destined to be wandering in circles, confused.

All of this is - I hope - tastefully done throughout the book, as I desired to avoid a preachy style of writing and yet deliver a powerful message. Only my readers can tell me how successful I have been.