Though a lifelong lover of film — notorious for retelling entire movies in vivid detail to the dismay of family and friends — Tobias came to books through discovery rather than habit. At twelve, he stumbled across his father’s library, where Dune, Shōgun, and The Lord of the Rings cracked open a lifelong fascination with myth, history, and the epic arc. Decades later, after years of devouring stories across page and screen, he turned from audience to author. At 48, he began writing fiction of his own — and never looked back. Now, with multiple fantasy projects in development, he draws on a cinematic memory and a sharp instinct for narrative rhythm to craft immersive, emotionally driven fiction.

Tobias writes for readers who crave mystery, mythology, and moral complexity — and for his younger self, who always believed the best stories weren’t just read or watched, but felt.

Before I write a scene, I’ve already seen it. Not just in vague flashes, but as if I’m watching a movie unfold—lighting, movement, mood. The characters speak. The wind shifts. It plays in my head first, fully formed. Then the hard part begins: translating that into words without losing what made it feel alive.

When I finally sat down to write Awakening of the Ascendant, I didn’t want to create something safe. I wanted to write the kind of story I’d always craved but rarely found—something darker, more atmospheric, where magic feels ancient and dangerous, and where no one is entirely safe from their own choices. A story that would haunt me a little. One that felt real beneath the fiction.

What surprised me was how easily the villains arrived. The wounded ones. The ones who believe they’re right. They were never hard to write. Maybe because they speak to something more raw—something I don’t have to invent, just tap into.

This trilogy isn’t just a story—it’s a reckoning. With power. With memory. With the ancient things we seal away, and what happens when they start to whisper again.