Bones of Leadership: Leading in Fantasy and Life

The Weight and Balance of Leadership

Leadership in the military is often seen as authority, but anyone who’s worn the uniform or stood the watch knows the truth: leadership is both a weight and a balance. It’s the weight of responsibility—decisions that affect missions, readiness, and the lives of Sailors. And it’s the balance of carrying that burden without crushing yourself or your people.

The Weight

As a Yeoman and divisional leader, I’ve experienced this weight firsthand. Every Sailor’s success or failure reflects back on their leader. Every inspection, every evaluation, every training report becomes not just their record, but yours.

That weight doesn’t stop at paperwork. It extends into mentorship, family challenges, and mental well-being. A leader carries their division’s morale like armor—absorbing the blows so their Sailors can stay focused and effective. And when something breaks, the leader owns it. That is the weight of leadership.

The Balance

But leadership isn’t just about carrying more; it’s about knowing how to distribute the load. If you take on everything yourself, you burn out. If you offload too much, you lose credibility. Balance comes in knowing when to step in, when to step back, and when to trust your people to grow through hardship.

For me, balance has meant recognizing that Sailors don’t just need a boss—they need a mentor, a coach, and sometimes a shield. Balance means holding Sailors accountable while also showing them grace. It’s about knowing that the Navy demands excellence, but Sailors are human beings, not machines.

Learning Leadership the Hard Way

I’ll be the first to admit—I didn’t get leadership right the first time. My path has been one of trial and error. Early on, I often thought leadership meant solving every problem myself or pushing Sailors the way I pushed myself. But I quickly learned that approach isn’t sustainable.

To grow, I invested my personal time in studying leadership. I sought wisdom from books like Extreme Ownership by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin, The Dichotomy of Leadership, and Admiral McRaven’s Make Your Bed. Each gave me tools to balance accountability with humility, discipline with empathy. These lessons changed the way I led on the deckplates, helping me to listen more, trust more, and focus on building my Sailors rather than simply directing them.

But I didn’t just learn from military and leadership texts. Fantasy and literature shaped me, too. Books like Ender’s Game and The Count of Monte Cristo taught me about strategy, resilience, and the personal costs of leadership. These stories, much like the real Navy, showed me that leadership often demands sacrifice—and that true leaders are forged in hardship, not comfort.

Leaders Do Not Lead Alone

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that leadership is never a solo act. A leader who isolates themselves, convinced they have all the answers, is setting themselves and their team up for failure.

Leaders have to constantly check themselves—seeking honest feedback from their juniors, listening to the concerns of their peers, and being willing to accept both guidance and reprimand from their seniors. That willingness to learn in every direction creates the humility that keeps a leader grounded.

In the Navy, this means taking a moment to ask a junior Sailor, “How are we doing as a division?” or being open to a mentor saying, “You could have handled that differently.” It requires enough humility to recognize that leadership is not about being perfect—it’s about being willing to grow, adjust, and do better for the people who count on you.

This is mirrored in Of Land and Bone. Lorian discovers that his journey cannot be walked alone—he needs teachers like Elentur, companions like Dustbane and Gnarl, and even the criticisms of those who question him. Orianna, too, learns that guidance from peers and mentors is what allows her to step into her own strength. Both remind us that even in fantasy, no leader rises without others shaping them along the way.

The Lesson in Fantasy

This same theme runs through Of Land and Bone. Lorian learns that commanding the dead is not the same as leading the living. He can force obedience, but true leadership requires something deeper: trust, sacrifice, and an acceptance of responsibility for others. Orianna, too, grapples with this balance at the Academy—striving to be both a beacon of light and a person still finding her place in the world.

Both characters reflect the same truth I’ve lived: power without balance breaks a leader. Balance without weight makes them ineffective. To lead is to accept both—and to grow strong enough to bear them well.

Final Thoughts

The weight and balance of leadership is not a destination; it’s a daily practice. Every Sailor, every decision, every challenge adds to the burden, but also teaches the balance. Leadership is never mastered—it’s refined.

My journey has been shaped by the Navy, by trial and error, by lessons found in both leadership manuals and the pages of fantasy novels. Whether from Extreme Ownership or Ender’s Game, the message is the same: leaders don’t simply rise—they are tested, broken, and built back stronger.

It’s a lesson I believe every leader has to learn—whether on the deckplates, in the wardroom, or even within the pages of fiction:

True leadership is not about control—it’s about carrying others without losing yourself.