When Your Players Don’t Appreciate the Lore, Write a Book Instead
Most people start writing fantasy because they want to escape the mundane. Django Wexler started because he wanted to escape his players. More specifically, the kind of players who show up to your epic D&D campaign, ignore your meticulously crafted backstory, and reduce your plot to “those guys are shooting at those guys.”
And that, dear reader, is how a Dungeon Master became a master of fantasy fiction.
Wexler, author of books like How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying and Everybody Wants to Rule the World Except Me, didn’t set out to be a novelist. He just wanted people to respect his character arcs. A lifelong fan of fantasy and sci-fi, he eventually decided to put pen to paper and finally have control over the story.
A Library of Inspiration (With a Sci-Fi Twist)
Wexler’s work is a blend of genres and influences. Whether it’s Napoleonic warfare in The Shadow Campaigns, or the science-fantasy collision of Ashes of the Sun, his stories reflect a deep love for the epic and the speculative.
His trilogy, Burningblade and Silvereye, plays with genre boundaries in all the best ways: ancient weapons, fractured societies, and characters that leap off the page with sharp wit and sharper edges. It’s fantasy that pays homage to science fiction, anime, and the enduring chaos of tabletop adventures.
If you’ve ever loved a story that felt like it was doing five things at once, you’ll feel right at home here.
The Terrifying Art of Being Funny
Writing comedy, as Wexler puts it, is terrifying. Not in a “facing a dragon” way, but in a “what if nobody laughs and this was all a mistake” way. Unlike stand-up comics, authors don’t get instant feedback. You write the joke, publish the book, and then wait a year to find out if anyone even smirked.
Audiobooks help, though. With the right narrator, Wexler says, humor lands better. Fortunately, his projects have landed some stellar voices. (No spoilers, but your next road trip just got a lot more entertaining.)
Coding, AI, and Magic Systems
Before publishing, Wexler worked on AI research at Carnegie Mellon. And by research, he means coding something that was essentially Siri, before Siri existed.
While he doesn’t claim to be an expert in today’s AI, he has thoughts. Still, his background in programming gives him an edge when it comes to building intricate, logical magic systems. The same mental gymnastics that help debug code? Perfect for keeping track of sprawling fantasy narratives.
Not that he uses spreadsheets. For the record, his method involves CTRL+F and a prayer.
Why Representation Isn’t Optional (and Shouldn’t Feel Like a Lecture)
Wexler doesn’t write gay characters to tick a box. He writes them because they exist. Because they’re human. Because leaving them out would be disingenuous.
Fantasy of the past rarely made space for LGBTQ+ characters, and Wexler’s work is, in part, a response to that erasure. He embraces the idea that not all stories need to revolve around trauma. Sometimes, queerness can just be.
“Sometimes you want to read about someone’s heroic struggle,” he says, “and sometimes you want it to just be okay.”
He’s also self-aware about what stories aren’t his to tell. Trans representation, for instance, is something he continues to approach with care, preferring quiet inclusion over spotlighting stories that aren’t his own.
Swearing in Fantasy: The Linguistics of Taboo
Let’s talk profanity.
Some fantasy authors go the “invented swear word” route. Wexler? He mixes invented with explicit, because that’s what real people do. And also because “people have sex.”
He once joked that humans have three main types of swearing: scatological, sexual, and religious. Two of those translate across cultures.
The third? Well, you’re probably not invoking Jesus in a land of ancient gods and sword fights.
The Spelljammer Dream (and Hollywood Reality)
Wexler got to write a Dungeons & Dragons novel. Specifically, for Spelljammer, which he played in high school.
Dream: achieved.
As for movie adaptations? One of his books (Dark Lord) has been optioned, but Wexler is refreshingly realistic: “You don’t make your book into a movie. The movie studio makes your book into a movie.”
Until then, he’s happy weaving in Easter eggs from his old gaming groups and building fantasy worlds where logic meets mayhem.
