How I Came Up with the Idea for ‘The Wanderers’
It was that kind of autumn when it’s too cold for short sleeves, yet still too warm for a heavy coat.
Those days I kept thinking about the story I had finished months earlier — the one already sent to my proofreader.
The more I reflected on it, the more I felt that the earlier books hadn’t fully captured everything that lingered deep inside me.
True, the Spiritus Dei series had surprised many, but the spirit of adventure kept pulling me forward.
I was walking along a forest path when the thought struck me like a flash — I would write a new story about friendship.
I took a few turns around Pekrska Gorica, letting the idea form, and soon the concept was clear.
This time, everything moved faster.
I sat down at my computer, switched it on without hesitation, and began drafting a list of characters.
The Vagabundi I | Author’s visual concept for the Vagabundi cycle
But what names to choose?
I scrolled through a list of common English names — Theodor, Charles, Richard, Elizabeth, Emma — until suddenly one name cut through them all: Gabriel.
I didn’t know anyone by that name, yet my imagination immediately conjured a sixteen-year-old boy.
He might not have looked exactly as I had first pictured him, but soon he was walking through the deep snow beside his thirteen-year-old sister, Maya, both lost in the joys of winter.
The story had to belong to the world of fantasy.
I thought deeply about what kind of mystical being to include — and then, as if by design, wolves appeared nearby.
Without much deliberation, a new legend of the werewolf was born.
But instead of following familiar tropes, I tried to shape something entirely my own.
Gabriel soon faced his first trials — not from dark forces, but from his own heart.
He fell in love with the mysterious being who had saved his life from near death.
Yet the story was only beginning.
I wrote as if possessed, each page drawing me deeper into the growing web of the tale.
Now, many years later, as I approach the end of a saga that has grown into fifteen parts, I finally understand its true scale.
These days, as I write its closing chapters, I realise I’ve sunk into a world from which there may be no return.
But don’t worry — perhaps in the next few blog entries, I’ll reveal a secret or two, offering readers a glimpse into the red thread that runs through every chapter of The Vagabundi.