FC-BC (DREAMS OF THE EATEN) A.indd Arianne “Tex” Thompson is the author of the Children of the Drought – an internationally-published epic fantasy Western series from Solaris. Now a professional speaker and writing instructor at Southern Methodist University in Dallas, she is blazing a trail through writers conferences, workshops, and fan conventions around the country. In this piece to accompany the publication of Dreams of the Eaten, she talks about one of the essential but often overlooked characters…

You know, it’s a testament to just how far fantasy has come: these days, you can choose your protagonist from just about any D&D character class. There’s classic old-school Conan the Barbarian, of course, and King Arthur’s posse of paladins. The Harrys (Dresden and Potter) have cornered the market on wizarding, and Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastards are doing rogues a lovely turn. Even the cleric is getting some long-overdue limelight, courtesy of Beth Cato’s Clockwork Dagger and E.C. Ambrose’s Dark Apostle series. Truly, a protagonist being written today has career options that their old-school counterparts never dreamed of.

So what’s the next step? Are there any character-class barriers left to break? Here’s my proposition: let’s let the bodyguard take a turn on stage. I’m not talking about the soon-to-be-legendary warrior with a named weapon and a chip on his shoulder. I’m talking about the guy with no magic, no destiny, and no chill – whose exclusive job it is to keep somebody else from eating the consequences of his/her own questionable decisions. You know, a member of the Middle Earth Secret Service.

And there’s plenty of precedent for this. From Sancho Panza and Samwise Gamgee all the way up to The Tick’s Arthur, with an uncanny number of cartoon dogs along the way, we have a rich tradition of sympathetic hero-schmucks who are somehow supposed to keep their plot-manic, quest-infested betters from taking an arrow in the neck on their way to immortal glory. They’ve always been with us – we just haven’t often used them as primary protagonists. (With a tip of the hat to Courage the Cowardly Dog – truly the Jackie Robinson of hero-schmucks.)

tt2017And that makes sense, because it’s hard to make a hero out of someone with no agency. As long as the bodyguard lets their VIP call the shots, they remain relegated to second-banana status, in both the narrative and their own social order. Their stoic refusal to bail is usually explained by unshakable, hassle-proof loyalty. The two characters are friends, allies, partners, brothers (looking at you, Majere twins), whatever. That often lets the creator craft a co-dependent pair of protagonists, neither of whom could ever carry a story on their own (because without Wallace, Gromit would be utterly dull, and without Gromit, Wallace would be dead under a pile of cheese-smeared wacky-widgets).

But here’s the alternative. Go back to the Secret Service analogy. If you’re wearing an earpiece and a black suit, you don’t get to choose who you’re assigned to. You might find your VIP absolutely insufferable. The point is, you’re not there because you like them. You’re there because it’s your job to keep them safe. That gives you a big red emergency-override button, and a duty to use your own best judgment whenever theirs is inadequate or impaired. YOU decide when the room is clear. YOU decide when and how to frisk the visitors. And if you make a bad call, and your VIP takes a bullet because of it, that heat is all coming down on you. That Sword of Damocles constantly hanging over your head gives you plenty of backbone to use in resisting an order from the person you’re supposedly serving – and a foundation for a relationship based as much on ‘balance of conflict’ as ties of fellowship.

That was a role I relished exploring in the Children of the Drought series, and one I especially enjoyed reading in J.K. Cheney’s Golden City books. (What do you do when your VIP is killed on your watch, in chapter one? Who are you once you’ve failed in your most essential role, and what are you going to do to atone for that failure?) And it’s a dynamic I think merits much more attention.

So often, the most truly heroic work is also the most thankless and invisible. But therein lies the magic of fantasyland: this genre can make a stand-up, stand-out hero out of anyone, from the homeliest hobbit to the darkest antihero. So let’s raise a glass to our real-world guardians, and shine an extra spotlight on their dragon-toasted, bullet-riddled, chronically overworked and catastrophically under-drunk fictional counterparts. It’s a rough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.

Find Tex online at http://www.TheTexFiles.com

Dreams of the Eaten is out now from Solaris. Click here to order from Amazon.co.uk