Best of the Forge: 2024

My most popular, most fun, and most important pieces from 2024

Hello, dear readers.

When I last gave a “state-of-the-newsletter” update, there were less than 200 of you. There’s a lot of new faces here since then…

… and I am so glad you’re here.

Since there are so many new folks here at Falden’s Forge—and since The Samyuzot stories won’t be returning until January—I wanted to spend a little time reflecting on the last year and sharing the best of my best from 2024.

As we round out the year I find myself asking myself: “of everything I’ve published this year, what’s my best work?”

But then I ask: how do I define “best”?

• Which post did you, my readers, like the most?

• Which story got the best reactions?

• What did I have the most fun writing?

• Which one taught me the most?

• Which one, in the simple calculus of my own gut instinct, is my best work?

Because I think every one of these questions has a different answer. So let’s ask those questions.

And while we’re here, I’ll tell you about what to expect in 2025.

First, a Thank You

Before I share some specific pieces, I want to thank each of you for being here.

I’ve been tinkering away with creative writing for years, but I’d lacked the conviction to put any of my writing out in the world.

For much of last year, I found myself trying to pin down a certain uneasy feeling that had been haunting me. I wondered if it was a premature midlife crisis, or burnout, or just plain old melancholy.

But at each turn, I felt better when I wrote stories. Eventually I realized that a large part of my malaise was an internal disconnect between my hopes for my writing, and my actions about my writing.

Somewhere along the line I began to believe in what I could write—I had found that conviction—and yet I was still hesitating and refusing to act out of that belief.

My Old Friend

Ian Dunmore

gave me some advice that went something like this:

Just take one small step towards what you want.

If the ground doesn’t open up under your feet, take another. If it’s not the right thing, it won’t work, and if its too much to handle, you can take a small step backwards and be no worse off.

But if it is the right thing, then it will start with small steps anyway. So take a small step.

So I opened the Forge.

He was right.

I thought then, back in February of 2024, that if I got 100 subscribers within a year—100 people to open my writing on a semi-regular basis—then that would be a huge win.

Then, huge goal in mind, I set out to tell stories I’ve had in my head for years, to dispel assumptions about medieval rulers, and to explore the very nature of fantasy narrative itself.

And now, at time of writing, there are nearly 800 of you!

There’s only one thing I can say:

While I believed in my own writing, I didn’t really expect other people to believe in it. I’m humbled at the response I’ve seen since I opened this newsletter ten months ago.

There will be more to come.

Much more.

Now, on to the fun stuff.

The Best of Falden’s Forge 2024

There’s no good way to define “best,” so I’ll share a few “categories” and share a story or post for each.

We’ll start with the plain old popularity contest.

Most Popular Story

Even this metric is a bit odd, since my most-viewed pieces are the more recent ones (which makes sense, as more people are receiving them). However, by ratio of likes, my most “popular” story among you all is…

Originally written for Round 1 of the Gibberish Writing Competition, “One Head As Tribute” is a heart-pounding chase scene, where an ambitious young nobleman must escape the dark and snowy land of the giants.

The vast majority of you weren’t here to read this when it first published, so go check it out. Every time I read it I think “dang, this is better than I remember.”

Most Popular Non-Fiction Post

On the other hand, loads of you found me precisely because of the following piece.

Originally written in March, this bit about narrative distance has pretty consistently been making the rounds on Substack Notes since the summer. It’s great to see!

I think this is a hugely underutilized aspect of prose storytelling, and it’s been loads of fun to engage on that topic with you all.

But speaking of fun…

Which Story Was Most Fun to Write?

This is actually hard to answer, but in the end I have to say “A Missive for Mankind.”

Maldurian—the character who wrote the letter which is, itself, the story—is a character I’ve had in my head for a long, long time: a wizard, at odds with his fellow magical scholars, debating the nature of magic, the value of man, and the purpose of life itself…

I had loads of fun with this because epistolary storytelling is real trip on its own, but Maldurian’s voice is a unique one. His precise way of thinking is one I’ve spent a long time crafting, and it was exciting to finally get in on the page.

There’s another story with Maldurian, too: “Ash and Death on a Dangerous Road.” Folks really liked that one too, but for the sake of argument “Missive” was more fun for me to write.

The Story That Taught Me the Most

Writing isn’t just about fun though. I firmly believe it is about craft, and whether or not something is fun to write is secondary to whether something is fun to read. And you, dear reader, don’t owe me anything.

It’s not about me, it’s about you.

Thus, I have a responsibility to you to hone my craft and become a better writer.

To that end, nothing supercharged my writing this year more than the high-intensity sprint of Round 3 of the Gibberish Writing Competition, and the 2,000-word story that contest produced:

There are lots of lessons I learned from crafting this story, but the single stand-out lesson? Concision.

As I said back then:

I can be way more concise than I thought. I love epic fantasy. I measure my to-be-read list in cubic feet. I aspire to write good, worthwhile, and yes, long fiction. In March I would have joked that 2,000 words was basically micro-fiction. But now I am reconsidering the possibilities of my own works (in a good way). If I can do this with 2,000 words, what can I do with 20,000 words?

My Gut Says: This One

Now all that’s fine and dandy, but what’s actually my best? Gun-to-my-head, no hesitation, go with my gut: what’s my best work?

Probably “The Hearth and the Spear.”

I’m not sure articulate why I feel this is my best. It’s not very long. It’s meant as a piece of a larger whole, but it works in a vacuum. It’s not flashy.

But I love this one precisely because of the ordinary nature of its protagonists. It’s nothing more than a conversation between a husband and a wife trying to navigate hard times.

But really, what’s more important than that?

The One I’m Proud Of

Lastly, I’ll share the project I am the most proud of, and that one has to go to my ongoing serial: The Samyuzot.

Each of these stories are stand-alone, so any one “episode” can serve as an entry-point, but they follow a recurring character as a way to reward returning readers—specifically a cursed warrior, cast off by his people and sent to wander in exile.

I’m proud of The Samyuzot because I feel I’ve managed to capture the feel of its setting and the mood of its suffering protagonist. The final product matches my own internal images more closely than anything else I’ve done.

I’m also proud of my own ambition in taking it on. This is my first (public) longform fiction project. I’m proud to have started it. I’m proud to have crafted what’s already available, and I’m proud of the parts that you haven’t gotten to see yet.

When these stories return next month, I think you’ll like what you find there. And sometime in 2025, you can expect to find the whole anthology in its own book (with bonus stories too, once we get there).

And while I’m gratified to have received many good reviews on The Samyuzot so far, none are as simple or direct as

Tom Schecter

’s (thanks, Tom):

Eric you’re a bloody legend. These are awesome.

You can see the whole series here in my index.

Final Thoughts

There’s a lot more I could have shared here, especially my October collaboration with

Clifford Stumme

on Tolkien’s seminal work, On Fairy-Stories. I hugely enjoyed working with Clifford, crafting those essays, and getting to engage with the Substack community about it all.

I could also mention the time we all laughed at cringy fantasy weapons, or debated fictional magic systems, or talked about how Paul Atreides really is just that bad of a dude.

Really, today’s roundup only scratches the surface of the last ten months of my writing life, and it only captures a pinch of how much this means to me.

What else can I say, then, except another thank you?

Thank you for reading. I mean it.

If you like what you’ve read here and want me to keep making stuff like this, you can help me do that by liking, commenting, or sharing this post.