PHOTO: Charlie Sheldon, author of the acclaimed Strong Heart series, photographed in his home in Tacoma, Washington.
Adventure Fiction Rooted In Nature And Human Resilience
Charlie Sheldon draws upon a lifetime at sea and in the wilderness to create the Strong Heart series, blending adventure, magical realism, and environmental themes with authentic characters and compelling storytelling.
Charlie Sheldon’s life has been shaped by salt air, rugged landscapes, and a deep respect for the natural world. From his early years on the East Coast, through a career as a wildlife biologist and decades spent at sea as both fisherman and merchant sailor, he has drawn from lived experience to craft stories of adventure, endurance, and belonging. His novels carry the authenticity of a man who has braved storms, walked mountain trails, and witnessed firsthand the fragile balance between human endeavor and the natural environment.
His acclaimed Strong Heart series—Strong Heart, Adrift, and Totem—is an exploration of myth and memory, survival and spirit, grounded in the wild beauty of the Olympic Peninsula. At once adventure fiction and a meditation on time, history, and the storytelling tradition itself, these works are threaded with magical realism, echoing the influence of Marquez and Allende while remaining distinctly Sheldonian in their voice and vision.
Sheldon’s characters emerge as more than figures on a page; they are embodiments of resilience, vessels of wisdom, and mirrors of his own curiosity about the world. Whether at sea or in the forest, his stories are alive with the tension between danger and wonder, fragility and strength. This sensitivity to both human nature and the natural world reflects not only his professional background but his personal devotion to the landscapes that have inspired his imagination.
Now embarking on a new series, tentatively titled Talking Stick, Sheldon continues to look forward, weaving the threads of past and present into futures both urgent and timeless. His work invites us to listen—to the land, the sea, and the stories that shape us—as we consider how the narratives we tell can help us endure, remember, and hope.
Your “Strong Heart” series blends adventure with magic realism. What inspired you to weave these elements into your storytelling?
I have always enjoyed and been fascinated by magical realism as developed by South American authors – Marquez and Allende, for example. I think the technique works well with adventure fiction, or at least it worked with me. I did not start this series as a series. I started as a single book, some sailors cast away and then one of them telling the story of Sarah to pass the time while they waited for rescue, a frame similar to Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness.” Then I chose to first simply tell Sarah’s story, which became “Strong Heart” but this left all the pages about the cast-away sailors, and that led to “Adrift.” Then I needed to come up with something to answer all the unanswered questions, and that became “Totem.” It took me from 2010 until 2021 to research, write, and complete the series. Magical realism is a wonderful tool for storytelling and I used it throughout, and plan to use it again.
In “Adrift,” the crew faces a perilous situation at sea. How did your maritime experiences influence the authenticity of this narrative?
I never experienced a major fire at sea nor did I ever have to abandon ship, that God, but there is no question that years of actual sea time – days spent at sea – aboard cargo ships and fishing boats are a great foundation for sea stories. I’m one of those writers who has to “know” something to describe it, and this is I think especially true for maritime tales. This is especially true for tales about humans working at sea, fishing or handling cargo, away from home, entirely confined to a small world, gone for days and days, weeks, even months….
“Totem” delves into environmental themes within Olympic National Park. What personal connections do you have to this region?
I have lived within driving distance of the Olympics for over 35 years; moved to Washington in order to explore the Park; probably have spent over 600 days hiking and backpacking throughout the Park; and have for years served on the Board of Friends of Olympic National Park and as an advisory member of the Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary. I also have experience hiking in Alaska and throughout New England.
Your background in wildlife biology and resource management is evident in your writing. How does this expertise shape your characters and settings?
I think my training and educational experience most influenced the research I conducted before starting my series – three years of work – whereas the settings came from my work experience and where I live. My characters are somewhat related to my training – Carl Larsen in “Totem” is a former wildlife biologist, for example, and Steve Procida, the captain of the “Seattle Express” is modelled on a real merchant captain of the same name I sailed with and who expressly allowed me to use his name – but most of the characters just appeared, somehow, from somewhere deep in my small brain.
“Adrift” portrays a dramatic maritime disaster. What challenges did you encounter in depicting such high-stakes scenarios?
In order to write about a ship abandonment and then recovery, I needed a format with several points of view such that I could switch between what was happening on the burned ship and what was happening also on the rescue tug, not to mention the cast-away sailors from the ship and the terrified family members back home. This frame enabled me to come up with a structure whereby I carry many points of view – some times more than five – which are all linked to a singular time line, such that the reader knows that as the points of view change they arrive one after another on a common time line, the only exception being narrated memories or dreams from earlier times. This structure I also used in “Totem” as well, and I am using it now with a new series, set in the future, using the same area and descendants of the same characters, tentatively titled “Talking Stick.”
The character Sarah Cooley appears across your novels. What role does she play in conveying your overarching themes?
I thought and continue to think an ornery young girl is a perfect person to become the center and hero of a series of tales, someone finding her power and wisdom in a unique way. I am currently exploring continuing with her character but set well in the future when she is an old, old woman, when humans are seeking exoplanets, when the earth is suffering, and when what people in the series learned about the distant past becomes linked to the present and future.
Your stories often explore the intersection of human resilience and nature. How do you balance these elements to engage readers?
I think everything depends on the story – there needs to be a tale, an arc of events, a series of challenges and conflicts and then some kind of resolution, for the overall story, and for every character and point of view offered as well. Otherwise the reader will not be engaged. Life itself is the intersection of human resilience and nature, is it not? Stories reflect that. Remember, the overriding thesis in the Strong Heart Series is that it was and is the telling of stories that made us human, the ability to pass knowledge and tradition down through the generations so as to develop culture and history and development. We became human sitting around fires hearing stories from our elders and I wrote the books in the series imagining them being read to others around similar fires.
For aspiring authors, especially those interested in adventure and environmental narratives, what advice would you offer?
Get as much real world experience as you can, real, hard, difficult. Learn as much as you can about whatever subject you are writing about. The writing won’t work unless it is real, and won’t feel real unless you, the writer, know what is real. So, if you want to write about adventure, go out and have adventures. If you want to write environmental narratives in fiction, be real, there, too, don’t sound like a Sierra Club pamphlet, and don’t ever, ever, ever be preachy.
