A Gathering of Ravens was called “satisfying…complex…and a pleasure to read” (Publishers Weekly, starred review). Now, Scott Oden continues the saga of Grimnir in this new epic Viking fantasy novel, Twilight of the Gods.
We had the pleasure of chatting to author Scott Oden about Twilight of the Gods, which is the sequel to his fantasy novel A Gathering of Ravens. Scott chats about its its inspiration, book recommendations, and more!
Hi Scott! Can you tell us a little about yourself?
Thanks for having me! I’m a refugee from ancient historical fiction writing who has found a new home among the diverse worlds of fantasy. I’ve been a fan of the genre for a long while; I cut my teeth on the likes of JRR Tolkien, Robert E. Howard, Karl Edward Wagner, and David Gemmell before moving beyond the genre to sample Mary Renault, Steven Pressfield, and the inimitable Bernard Cornwell. So, I played among the Greeks and Egyptians for a few years before returning to my first love: heroic fantasy or sword-and-sorcery.
I’m also a long-time player of tabletop role-playing games, especially classic D&D, Traveller, and an old gem from Fantasy Games Unlimited called Flashing Blades. More recently, I’ve been very much taken in by Shawn Tomkin’s Ironsworn RPG, and by both The One Ring RPG and Robert E. Howard’s Conan: Adventures in an Age Undreamed Of from Modiphius (for which I did a small bit of writing).
Twilight of the Gods is the sequel to A Gathering of Ravens and it publishes on February 18th. For those who haven’t picked up the first book, what can readers expect?
First, a fresh standalone tale in the vein of Robert E. Howard’s Conan mixed with the old Norse sagas. Second, the main character is an Orc. I don’t call him an Orc in the story, of course, as his existence predates Tolkien’s etymology. His folk are called kaunar, and he is the last of his kind. Lastly, it’s a bloody, epic, fast-paced story pitting the final elements of the Northern Crusades against the last bastion of paganism. It’s full of violent, flawed characters who are thrust into the limelight — some will rise to the occasion; others will fall, and in falling, reveal their true natures. The readers’ eyes and ears in this tale belong to a sixteen year old girl, Dísa, who wants nothing more than to be a shield-maiden like her mother — and, like her mother, she wants to die a glorious death in battle. Grimnir, though, has other plans for her . . .
Now, if you could only use five words to describe Twilight of the Gods, what would they be?
Grim. Violent. Profane. Epic. Tragic.
Where did the inspiration for the Grimnir series come from and was it always intended to be a series, not a standalone?
I’ve always meant it to be a trilogy of standalone novels, linked (like Bernard Cornwell’s Sharpe series) by the protagonist. Grimnir himself is a mixture of Grendel from Beowulf, Conan of Cimmeria, and two particular Orcs from The Lord of the Rings (book rather than film): Grishnákh from The Two Towers and Shagrat from The Return of the King. The series’ conceit being: what if JRRT had found inspiration for his Orcs from a nearly identical creature in Norse myth? And what if that creature had actually existed, even into the modern era? What would it have been like? Thus, Grimnir was born — a black-blooded, functionally immortal creature filled with all the hate and rage of the Old World for the New; profane, given to towering blasphemies; hated by nearly every living thing whose memory stretches back to the Elder Days . . . but who is guided by one seemingly noble principle: if he gives his word, it is as if that oath is written in stone.
A couple of centuries separate each book, allowing me to drop Grimnir into more and more unique situations as the decades pass. A Gathering of Ravens was close to his accustomed time, at the end of the Viking Age; Twilight of the Gods pits him against an ever-changing landscape, where Christianity rules and Odin has a vested interest in engineering the “Nailed God’s” destruction; the last book in the series, which I’m currently writing, is called The Doom of Odin, and it puts Grimnir in Italy and France at the height of the Black Death — which itself has an interesting origin in my quasi-historical milieu.
The series features Norse and Celtic myth with plenty of battles and monsters so naturally there would be a lot of research involved. Can you tell us about your research process?
Back before the Internet (he says, rocking furiously in his cane-backed chair), research like this would have taken me into the nearest town, to trawl the library stacks for nuggets of information. Now, it’s all at my fingertips. I relied heavily on the works of Rudolf Simek (Dictionary of Northern Mythology), Patricia Monaghan, H.R. Ellis Davidson, Jackson Crawford, Jonathan Phillips (The Fourth Crusade and the Sack of Constantinople), Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur, and Professor Tolkien. But, for all that research, I still relied heavily on imagination. There is a trick I learned while writing straight historical fiction: when creating facts from whole cloth, create small and make sure it looks like it belongs there. What’s called “world-building” in fantasy is merely “filling in the blanks” in historical fiction.
As for the process, I build a framework, first, and then go out and look for historical examples. I borrow only as much detail as I think the reader might need to visualize the scene, make up what I’m missing (or borrow from a different, earlier time period), and cover any shortcomings with action and a prodigious splash of blood.
Were there any challenges you faced while writing Twilight of the Gods?
My own nature, mainly. I had a detailed outline for a book, an outline that looked really good when told in brief, but which fell apart upon the drafting table. The original story proved to be unworkable — if Grimnir got within arm’s length of the villain, the story was over. So, I dithered and dallied and searched for the story I really wanted to tell. A year went by before I hit upon the notion of having Grimnir face off against the Northern Crusade. After that, I sketched a barebones outline and went to work. Took a few months, but here we are.
Are there any parts of either book, whether it be a character, scene, or piece of dialogue, that you really enjoyed writing?
There’s an extended scene from Grimnir’s point of view, that’s told in the first person. I loved writing that. He has a unique voice, to be sure, and sometimes it’s hard to capture it. But, when I do, it’s like magic. Honestly, Grimnir seems more real to me in this book than he did in A Gathering of Ravens. I think that section (Chapter 11, beginning on page 115 in the hardcover edition) really brought him to life for me.
What’s your writing process like and has it changed at all over the years?
I try to write from a hyper-detailed synopsis — one that encompasses action, dialogue, stage notes, asides to myself, character sketches, questions, and topics of research. My first two books were written by the seat of my pants, and that did not go well. So, now, I spend about a month hammering out what is essentially a first draft with director commentary, single-spaced and in present tense. Because of life’s distractions, it has traditionally taken me at least a year to turn that into something to show my editor. I’m working on limiting those distractions and getting my manuscripts down in three to four months.
What’s next for you?
The Doom of Odin, Grimnir #3; after that . . . who can say? More Grimnir, perhaps, or maybe a jaunt back to ancient Hellas. Or, I think I have a swashbuckling Musketeer story in me, somewhere. I’ve done some short fiction for Cabinet Entertainment, who holds the rights to the Hyborian Age and Conan of Cimmeria (one was serialized in the back of Marvel’s Savage Sword of Conan, issues 1-12; the other was bundled with the Conan Unconquered video game), and I’d like to try my hand at a longer Conan tale. There’s really a universe of ideas, out there. I could go anywhere . . .
Lastly, do you have any book recommendations for our readers?
Do my own count? No? Ah, but I jest! Lately, I’ve found myself enamoured of Howard Andrew Jones’s new fantasy series, beginning with For the Killing of Kings (and his Dabir and Asim tales); he has a great voice and classic style. I keep religiously up to date with Bernard Cornwell’s Saxon Tales, with the works of John Gwynne and Christian Cameron (though I’ve only dipped my toe into the worlds written under his nom de plume, Miles Cameron), with James Wilde’s Dark Age series, and with two new-to-me writers: the eerie urban historical fantasy of T. Frohock, and the Roman mysteries of Assaph Mehr. There’s also a cabal of writers that exists on social media. I am in NO WAY involved with that lot. No. Not at all. #NoCabal
