The speed and ferocity of the invasions that allowed the Mongols to conquer vast areas of the world with a relatively small force and limited resources have baffled historians and researchers who have focused on the upheavals of the 13th century for a long time. What I found most intriguing about this era is the determination of these warriors who ventured into unfamiliar terrains from East Asia to the Middle East and Eastern Europe and  came out victorious after every military engagement against all odds.

Researching and writing about this period was particularly challenging, not only because of lack of agreement on accounts between the historians of the past but also among those living in contemporary times. Accounts differed even regarding the manner of death and place of burial of Genghis Khan. Myths had overtime mixed with reality, and all types of scenarios about his death were claimed, discussed, and argued over without any substantial proof.

In one prestigious conference, an agent told me that one should take a quick perusing look at history and then write their own version. I tend to disagree profoundly with such an approach. As a historical novelist, I consider it my duty to respect the past and remain true to it. Of course, I do question historical accounts after reading and contemplating a range of resources written by those who have chronicled historical events. And yes, I do use fiction as a tool to fill the gaps that history leaves unsaid. But I do so with the precision, attention to details, and a sense of responsibility that one should have in any form of serious undertaking where human lives and honors are at stake.

Overcoming the cultural barriers in retelling a story that involved so many distinct regions of the world in the 13th century in a way that would be appealing to the American public was not an easy feat. In this endeavor, I had not only the privilege of being a student in a revered university like Johns Hopkins but also benefitted from a lifetime of learning under the masterful instructions of the great men and women of literature like Thomas Hardy, George Elliot, Charles Dickens, Daphne Du Maurier and Margaret Atwood whose books had become my daily companions. Reading the works of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov was almost like having lived in Russia and walking the streets in that country and breathing its cultural air. Sir Walter Scott’s works taught me how it felt to live in Europe in ancient times, and I found great Turkish storytellers as my companion as I roamed the streets of Anatolia in my mind.

Want to learn more from author F.M. Deemyad? Check out this blog post about the legacy of Genghis Khan.

Creating characters that are real is probably the most challenging undertaking for a writer. I consider natural human reactions to existing circumstances, and I never work chronologically. Instead, I solve the historical mysteries like a puzzle. I also take a balanced view of human experiences, void of prejudice and free of the tendency to promote a particular nation, personality or culture or demote another. This I owe to my upbringing as a Muslim child growing up in Christian and Jewish schools in Iran, where I learned to see people as individuals, not as members of a particular religion, nation, or race.