‘The Shadows We Call Home’ author in Lit Fest schools programme

Kieron Prescott will bring his novella ‘The Shadows We Call Home’, a thought-provoking tale blending philosophy and fantasy to life for students as part of this year’s school programme for the Gibraltar Literary Festival. He aims to do this via illustrations, thought experiments, and discussions. He spoke to Chronicle reporter Eyleen Gomez ahead of the upcoming event.

What first inspired you to blend philosophy and fantasy in The Shadows We Call Home, and what central question about the human experience were you hoping to explore?

Philosophy has always been something I’ve naturally fallen into. Even from a young age, I was curious about why people see the world so differently - what’s true, what’s right, and whether there even is a “correct” way of looking at things. That constant questioning became my first real taste of philosophy. It sometimes got me into trouble, but it also helped me make sense of things. As I got older, I began to find a way of seeing life that feels more grounded.

Fantasy has always been the other half of that. I’ve always loved imaginative worlds in books, games, and films because they remind you that anything is possible. There are no limits there; ideas can come alive through adventure, and meaning can be found in the journey itself.

At its core, the book explores how each of us shapes our reality from the inside out. We’re conditioned to see life as something happening to us, an outside-in experience, but I see it as the opposite. The story reflects that idea: that we’re not merely characters in a story, but the authors of it.

Are there particular philosophical ideas, thinkers, or schools of thought that shaped the novella or the reflective exercises in your workshop?

Definitely. What I share in the book is really my own philosophy - a blend of ideas that, to me, fit together rather than contradict each other. That was always my struggle growing up: everywhere I looked, people seemed to say different things about how to live. Even in the Bible, you read “an eye for an eye” in one place and “turn the other cheek” in another. So, which is it? That kind of contradiction always bothered me.

Then I discovered Stoicism, and it immediately made sense. It’s grounded in logic and common sense, a practical way of living a “virtuous” life. It gave me a foundation, a structure for how to live well. But Stoicism doesn’t always explain why things are the way they are, and that’s the question I kept asking.

That’s when I came across something called The Three Principles by Sydney Banks, which, in essence, is about understanding the nature of thought - the idea that there’s a kind of universal intelligence running through everything. It explained not just how to live, but why we experience life the way we do.

I’d say those two philosophies form the backbone of the book. There’s also a touch of Carl Jung in there, especially his idea of archetypes - using the mind’s symbols and patterns as a way to tell the story in a more imaginative way. And a little influence from Aldous Huxley too, particularly his thoughts on perception and how what we see isn’t always what’s real. That theme runs through the story.

How did the story’s philosophical depth influence your world building and character development? Did one emerge before the other?

The philosophy definitely came first. Long before the story existed, I had pages of personal notes, more like private reflections than anything else. They weren’t written for anyone else to read, just a way of sorting through what I believed and why. Later on, I started turning some of those ideas into short blogs, but I realised I wanted to share them in a way that felt more fun and accessible.

That’s when the idea of turning it into a fantasy story came in. We’re storytelling creatures by nature. Facts can inform you, but stories make you feel something - and that’s what makes an idea stick. When you see a character wrestle with fear, hope, or doubt, you recognise a bit of yourself in them. That emotional connection makes the message far more powerful than simply reading about it.

Once I had that thought, the rest came naturally. I didn’t really face writer’s block; it just flowed. The concept itself isn’t revolutionary - a man wakes in a dream world and learns lessons from the figures he meets - but it felt true to me. A lot of it draws from the games, films, and books I’ve loved over the years. Writing it was simply an honest way to bring my ideas to life.

When working with students, how do you help them connect the abstract ideas in your story to their own personal experiences or self-perception?

I haven’t actually worked with students yet. I’ve been approached to do so and I’m waiting to hear back from a school, but I have an idea of what I’d like to do if it goes ahead.
My aim would be to help them see that they already have more power than they think. The way we perceive ourselves and the world directly shapes how we experience life. It’s easy to assume that our past or our circumstances dictate our future, but in truth, we’re creating our personal reality from moment to moment, often without realising it.

To bridge the more abstract ideas, I’d focus on exploring the nature of thought and reality, not in a strictly scientific way, but from a philosophical and spiritual one. When people understand how their experience of life is formed, they start to see things differently. The hope is to help them recognise that they’re not just part of a story that’s already been written - they’re the ones writing it.

If readers or participants leave your workshop with one lasting realisation or shift in perspective, what would you hope that to be?

That’s a tough one, because everyone will take something different from it. I don’t want people to see things my way - I just want them to start questioning the way they see life.

If anything, I’d hope they leave with a quieter mind and a bit more space between themselves and their thoughts. When you realise that how you see something isn’t fixed, that it can change, that’s already a huge shift. It means you’re not trapped by circumstance or emotion; you have the freedom to respond differently.

So, if people walk away feeling a little lighter, more empowered, or a bit more at peace with whatever’s in front of them, that’s enough for me.

For more on information Mr Prescott’s book visit: https://phunkyphilosophy.com/