Local books: When life as you know it . . . isn’t

What if you’d never, ever been sick? John Percival thinks nothing of it. After all, advancements in genetics have conquered all disease. But when a classmate asks from which parent he inherited his sea-gray eyes, he realizes he has no memory of his parents. His search for answers sets him on a path through danger he didn’t know he had the courage to face, to a destiny he isn’t sure he wants.

Yet, author W. Owen Williams does.

The premise for such a story emerged in the mind of the retired professor of rhetoric and theatre, who possesses five advanced degrees. After graduating from Hollister High, where he met his future wife and spent a lot of time “doing theater,” Williams went on to UCLA, where he achieved his bachelor’s degree in theater. From there, he began campus hopping across the country, as he achieved a master’s degree in writing, a Ph.D. in rhetoric, and a master’s degree in theatre history.

Author W. Owen Williams. (Courtesy photo)

“Deciding I was still young enough and had it in me to pursue another Ph.D.,” he said, “I returned to UCLA to explore performance studies. But, after a three-year investment, I converted it into a master’s degree and called an end to my advanced education. Having collected a handful of generally impractical liberal arts degrees, I am profoundly, absurdly overeducated.”

Yet, much has come of it. While pursuing his master’s degree in writing, Williams was assigned to write a story, based on a “What if” premise. Because this was 30 years ago, things have since changed, he says; for example, his characters all use land-line telephones. Yet even then, as he looked at society, considered the direction in which things were moving, leaving folks frightened and uncertain, he wondered, “What would happen if. . .” and began to write “Falcon’s Flight,” a metaphysical-meets-science fiction-meets-love story.

“I was writing, but I also was raising four kids with my wife, needing to be a father, a husband, to have more than one fulltime job, and to find the time to write something of substance. Ultimately, I wrote the book,” he said, “but it was soundly rejected by publishers. I went back to my desk and worked on it for years during summer and holiday breaks.”

Throughout the process, Williams was constantly providing his manuscript to colleagues for feedback, one of whom, the publisher of Blackbird & Company, said it grew on him as he read. So, he created a fiction imprint, Sans-Créance, and made “Falcon’s Flight” his first release.

Perhaps it was Williams’ first sentence: “In the final days of the wettest winter in memory, the storm clouds cleared, and the first shoots of oats and alfalfa broke through the rich dark soil of the valley.” A perfect setting, if ever, for a “What if.”

After that, because his mind lived in the context of directing theater, Willliams’ writing became largely improvisational. Essentially, he says, you create a character, give him a circumstance, and then go with it, to see how it turns out.

“I never had anything fully mapped out, but I do like character development,” he said, “so I became very clear about who my character was, where he was going, or what he was going to do or say within the framework of that given circumstance. This became my process.”

Williams says his characters don’t come from his life, but a lot of people who have read his work find themselves within various character dynamics. At least the good ones.

“All of them had to come at least from my subconscious,” he admitted. “Perhaps they’re a blending of all the people I’ve ever known, in the context of all the things I’ve ever done.”

Onto something

When he began writing, Williams was willing to let the tale unfold and see how far the storyline took him. As he got further into his writing, he had a sense the story was taking him far enough to form a trilogy.

“I’m pretty well into writing the third book, but if I keep the story within three books,” he said, “this third one will be fairly long. Maybe four? I sort of know where the story is going to go and where it will end, but I’m not always sure how to get there.”

The thing is, Williams likes his characters, likes hanging out with them. Even if one is a villain, he’s probably, at some level, thinking he’s doing the right thing, he figures, based on what the situation demands and how to get the conflict resolved.

Williams’ characters are always more interesting to him than the plot. After all, he says, you need to know your character as well as you know yourself. Sounds like a true scholar of theater.

“Plot develops,” he said, “based on the goals and motivations of the characters. While the lead character in my book is a young man who doesn’t really know who he is, I do. Someone has a dream in which he’s a falcon, so he changes his name to Peregrine and becomes the falcon in the story, escaping all who are trying to kill him. He remains the central figure, but I can’t guarantee for how long.”

Everything W. Owen Williams has done, all his theater work, all his academic degrees, all his teaching, he realizes, has prepared him, set the scene for his writing.

“Yet my prospectus would have been far different had I started writing years ago. When pursuing my second Ph.D.,” he said, “my department chair asked me about my future, and I said I wanted to write. She said, ‘You don’t want to write. If you wanted to write, you would go write.’ She was on target. At some point, you’ve got to quit preparing and start doing.”

W. Owen Williams is writing, in true Bohemian style, tucked into a second-story apartment above a restaurant in Carmel. His second book, “Eagle Arising,” in what has become “The Wanderer’s Ode” trilogy, is due out in November. His third installment in the saga is not far behind.

“Falcon’s Flight” is available at River House Books in The Crossroads Carmel, and via Amazon.