Before ever writing a word of Majority, the first installment of the Torth series, the story itself “loomed large” in the mind of author Abby Goldsmith. Having scribbled stories as a toddler and kept up the momentum throughout her preteens, Goldsmith has always been a self-described daydreamer. And it is perhaps the most epic of these daydreams that has landed in the pages of Majority, which tells the sweeping story of twelve-year-old Thomas Hill.
Amid a strange psychic connection with the oversize twenty-two-year-old Ariock Dovanack, Thomas is taken to the Torth-controlled planet known as Umdalkdul, where the aliens there force him to either join them or die. While they consider themselves an egalitarian species, the Torth create mental links among their population of thirty trillion that doesn’t allow for any secrets, crimes, or privacy.
Currently living in Texas while working in video media for Simpler Trading, Goldsmith also creates 3D art assets for her husband’s indie game, “First Earth,” that is currently in development. She has dreams, however, of eventually becoming a full-time novelist, and the Torth series represents her first step. A tour de force that’s geared toward—but is by no means limited to—young adult science-fiction fans, Goldsmith’s debut novel is part of a six-book series that has already been written. Not many authors can boast of having already completed such a lengthy series before the first installment is even published. But prewriting the entire series has had some distinct advantages, since any tweaks that need to be made (or tangential storylines that need to be dropped) can be done without damaging the integrity of the overarching plot. It also ensures a majorly satisfying ending that will pay off for longtime readers.
Goldsmith considers her novel an example of “progression fantasy,” a term that refers to a world in which the hero “levels up within a preset system.” But who, exactly, is the hero of Majority? Well, readers may find that question a bit more complicated than it first appears. When Thomas’s Earth foster family is enslaved by the Torth, relegated to the alien ghettos and gladiatorial pits as part of a clearly lower-class system, it appears as though Thomas has lost all emotional connection with them in favor of a mental connection with the Torth. Meanwhile, Ariock is hailed as the messiah who is destined to do great things for his people. As the two young men enter into a twisted dance of power and oppression, love and hate, the individual implications echo all the way up the galactic scale and have repercussions that neither could ever imagine.
This idea of playing with traditional hero-versus-villain tropes came about after Goldsmith originally envisioned Thomas and Ariock as “one boring heroic character.” After becoming dissatisfied with the Jekyll-and-Hyde quality of the character, she quickly discarded the “straightforward Chosen One” arc in favor of significantly more complexity. This allowed her to dive deeper into some of Majority’s primary themes, including a shrewd representation of power dynamics, the possibility of redemption, and the difficult idea of accepting both one’s strengths and weaknesses in equal measure. As Ariock reckons with his growing power and status as a galactic war leader, Thomas struggles to make the hard choices with respect to a friend, Cherise, and Ariock, amid a cloud of occasional (and some would argue well-earned) jadedness:
Their problems only added to his own herculean burden. He had absorbed every detail of Cherise’s life, yet it never occurred to her that Thomas might need a smidgen of consideration for carrying her burdens. They had never been his equals. Had they? Thomas pondered the nature of friendship, frowning as his friends begged and cried. Cherise and Ariock had spent most of their lives needing help. One was afraid to be heard. One was afraid to be seen. Thomas had done his best to rescue them from suicidal despair, but they would always need support and advice. Everyone he met seemed needy. As if Thomas never felt lonely. As if he never suffered. He lived other people’s nightmares, and they expected him to be polite while they thought offensive insults about him.
In a testament to her storytelling skills, Goldsmith manages to seamlessly transition between the mental and social battles that Thomas must fight and the physical fight for survival that his loved ones must endure.
Many readers are likely to recognize the religious parallels found in Ariock’s rise and betrayal, as well as Thomas’s role behind the scenes, but the main characters’ journeys are all their own. As Kirkus Reviews states, “Thoughtful explorations of morality, altruism, justice and mercy, and the idea that godlike powers come with godlike responsibilities add depth and breadth to this auspicious entry in SF literature’s mutant-superman genre.” Goldsmith’s admiration of epic fantasy series, citing personal favorites such as “The Wheel of Time” and “Game of Thrones,” also shines through frequent point-of-view changes and a cast of characters that is large enough to keep things interesting without losing anyone in the shuffle.
Goldsmith is no stranger to writing, having originally released what became the Torth series on Wattpad and Royal Road. An alumni of the Odyssey Writing Workshop (where, she notes, she received a personal critique from George R.R. Martin), she has had short works published in Escape Pod, Fantasy Magazine, and Writer’s Digest Books that range in genres from YA romance to horror to sci-fi fantasy. While Majority may have kicked things off, Goldsmith admits, “I only wrapped up this series when I gained an online readership—because strangers would comment on each new chapter, sometimes with great insights. That was the most amazing feeling for me as an artist. I felt seen.”
Those readers will find a penetrating critique of not just governmental power dynamics but also the modern-day obsession with instant public feedback via social media outlets like Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. While the Torth certainly take it to the next level by internalizing that constant connection with others—the kind that feels so personal, yet tends to fracture under the weight of all those anonymous voices—it doesn’t take a huge leap in thought to imagine the world in which we live now grappling with something similar in a few decades. The idea of manipulation, and how so many opinions can either feed into our sense of validity and worth or completely strip it away, also comes up frequently throughout the novel. Ariock is led to believe he is a savior of sorts, while Thomas is relegated to the silent genius minority responsible for making sure the galactic gears keep spinning. But how much of who they are encouraged to be is based on reality?
In the midst of this ethical morass, where both Thomas and Ariock must reconcile the way things are in the world with the way they want them to be, Goldsmith reminds readers that heroism can often come from people who least look the part. Her novels ultimately deliver a message of hope, especially for all those who tend to stand out from the crowd:“Innovators think differently. People who change society for the better usually risk their reputation (or more) by going against a majority opinion. And their bravery is something to celebrate.”
Andrea Moran lives outside of Nashville with her husband and two kids. She’s a professional copywriter and editor who loves all things books.
