Last week, I wrote about the creation of Lieutenant Alastar Kar and how he first appeared in an online role-playing game back in the 1990s.
That post got me thinking.
Most people understand where characters come from.
What many people don't understand is what happens when they stay.
Thirty years is a long time.
In thirty years, jobs change.
Homes change.
Technology changes.
The world changes.
And yet somehow, Alastar Kar remained.
That may sound strange to people who don't write fiction, but many writers will understand exactly what I mean.
Characters often begin as ideas.
Some remain ideas.
Some become stories.
A few become companions.
Alastar is one of those rare characters.
When I first created him, I wasn't planning a trilogy.
I wasn't planning books at all.
I simply enjoyed telling stories.
At the time, he was a young half-human, half-feline officer trying to find his place in a galaxy that often felt larger than he was.
Looking back, I realize that some of the questions he wrestled with then are the same questions he wrestles with now.
Where do I belong?
Who am I?
What responsibility do I have to the people around me?
Over the years, his adventures grew larger.
The stakes grew higher.
Entire civilizations appeared.
Ancient mysteries emerged.
Worlds were threatened.
Wars were fought.
Yet through all of it, Alastar remained fundamentally the same person.
He still doubts himself.
He still carries the weight of responsibility.
He still puts others before himself.
And he still tries to do the right thing, even when there is no easy answer.
Perhaps that is why he has remained with me for so long.
I know his strengths.
I know his flaws.
I know how he reacts when he is afraid.
I know how he reacts when he is angry.
I know the things that make him laugh and the things that keep him awake at night.
After thirty years, I don't feel as though I write him.
I feel as though I know him.
That may be one of the strangest things about being a writer.
Characters begin as creations.
But given enough time, they become something else.
Friends.
Not real friends, of course.
Yet in another sense, perhaps they are.
They travel with us through different seasons of life.
They grow as we grow.
They change as we change.
And sometimes they help us understand ourselves a little better along the way.
As I prepare to release the final book of The Ghost Ships Trilogy, people occasionally ask if it is difficult to reach the end of Alastar's story.
The truth is that I don't think this is the end of his story at all.
It may be the end of this chapter.
It may be the end of this trilogy.
But characters who have been part of your life for three decades don't simply disappear when the final page is written.
The story may end.
The book may close.
But some companions remain.
Alastar Kar is one of those companions.
After thirty years, I still consider him an old friend.
And I suspect he always will be.
— Dawn Steinman