“The hero of my fantasy story has to have a tragic background,” said Ellis. “I was thinking orphan. Raised by the elves but never truly one of the elves.”

“Please,” Mickey snorted. “That one’s written in gold ink on page one of the Big Book of Cliches.”

“Well, how about an exile? A terrible crime he didn’t commit–or did he?–has led his own people to drive him off, and he finds refuge with the elves after saving one of their own, eventually living among them as one of them.”

“Yes, that’s certainly nothing like the Rangers in Tolkien,” said Mickey. “Weren’t you the one who said ‘if all fantasy authors were going to do was rewrite LOTR, they were better off writing stereo instructions?'”

“Fine then,” Ellis shouted, slamming his notebook down. “Let’s hear your brilliant hero backstory, Mr. Critic!”

“Hero is the incarnate form of the tears of a dead god, with the power to heal the world or destroy it.” Mickey mimed an NBA all-star dunk. “Swish!”