Psychology

Isekonspiracy

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I’m not a fan of most Isekai stories – stories of a person ending up in another world and are very prominent in manga and anime. Yes, there are wonderful genre classics like The Wizard of Oz and Fushigi Yuugi. There are good ones in today’s anime world, like the stellar The Faraway Paladin (watch it and prepare to cry). Too many of them get right up my nose as obvious power fantasies without much else beyond wish fulfillment.

Something else I’m not a fan of is conspiracy theories. I’ve watched them consume people’s minds, poison discourse, and lead to a violent attack on America’s Capitol. In a recent fit of contemplation and podcast-binging, I realized conspiracy theories are bad Isekai stories.

It is not a pleasant realization – and writing this made it more troubling.

First, both bad Isekai and conspiracy theories are about victimhood. The more pandering Isekai are about someone getting to be great, mighty, find revenge or whatever in their new world. Conspiracy theorists are also grievance-ridden and looking for someone to take it out on – and in their fantasies they hurt real people.

Isekai (good and bad) and conspiracy theories are oft about being special. That makes sense as a manga titled “I Went To Medieval Times And Died Of Disease” has a limited audience. However, in too many Isekai, the power trip is the point, leading to a story that only works if it pushes your buttons. I find this no different from how many conspiracy theorists believe they’re on a special mission from God or a secret agency to fight evil (when really they’re just toys of grifters).

Both Conspiracy theories and Isekai promise simplicity and are usually gamified. Many modern Isekai are based on game ideas and thus have obvious villains and heroic goals – defeat the Demon Lord, get the girl, etc. Conspiracy theories promise to make sense of the complex world and as scholars have noted resemble LARPS (Live Action Role Playing Games).

Finally, find a lot of bad Isekai dehumanizing and most conspiracy theories to be dehumanizing. Too much Isekai is about the hero you’re supposed to identify and a world of cardboard cutouts to knock around. Conspiracy theorists are glad to dehumanize people, sorting them into simple categories and wishing or bringing harm on people they’ve turned into props.

What I see in all of this is a need for escape.  The more pandering Isekai – as much as I critique them – are fulfilling a need.  Conspiracy theories fill similar needs but in a very destructive manner.  Somewhere in there is a mental place where someone starts a side into the darkness, and I wish I understood it better.

But at least with this insight, I have a chance to understand it a little more.

Steven Savage

You’re The Customer

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Over at his blog, Serdar discusses how people figure out what to write.  Exploring what we want to write creates more satisfying works for the audience and the writer.  It’s not always a comfortable process, and I’d like to increase the discomfort.

Who decides the value of your writing career?  That’s important to know since you need to target your writing and efforts towards that person or people.  You can read books and take training on determining customer value (I could probably dig some up for you as that’s part of Agile).  Difficult question, right?

I’ll give you the answer – the person who decides the value of your writing career is you.  Your first customer is you.

That’s not a twee answer.  You’re the one putting your time, life, and money into writing and you should get what you want from the effort.  If you’re not getting it, you should change how and what you’re writing.

Too many people get into writing with a set of vague ideas, goals, and motivations.  This gets you going but isn’t always enough to complete a work, and not enough to keep going.  Too many writers I know have a vague sense of goals, but not enough to bring their writing career to life.

I can understand why people have these ephemeral senses of what they want because self-exploration is painful.  We discover flaws in our character, gaps in our skill, and unpleasant truths we’ve avoided up to now.  If you think asking “what do I want out of writing?” sounds like therapy, I can tell you sometimes it can be awful close.

Asking this question also opens the terrifying possibility that we shouldn’t be writing.  But it’s better to find out that’s the case than wasting time on something that you get nothing out of.  Take comfort though, I doubt you’d be reading this if you didn’t have some real reason to write.

My own motivations varied throughout my career until I realized I’m motivated by writing and sharing knowledge and experience.  I like to reach people – which I do via writing but also speaking and hanging with fellow writers.  I could have saved myself a lot of time if I’d realized that first.

So go talk to some fellow writers.  Talk to a therapist.  Talk to me. Spend some time driving and get to know yourself as a writer.  It’ll be worth it (and you’ll be better at writing).

Steven Savage

You Don’t Have To Write

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

I settled down to read The Society of the Spectacle, the classic work on how modern society’s economy becomes all spectacle with little substance.  I’m sure I’ll have more to discuss, but I’d like to tell you about a reaction.

The book is broken into short chapters and numbered bits of analysis never more than a few paragraphs long.  While reading the analysis of how we commodify the world or turn economy to spectacle, I had ideas.  I had ideas for a book or two I could start writing . . .

Then, I stopped.  Why did I have to write now?  In fact, why the hell did I have to write these books without further analysis?  Also, did I have to read a book on commodities and want to make one?

I found other writers have this situation.  You have the realization a book can exist, and then you think you have to do it.  The cause varies, but the problem is the same.

If you find yourself in this situation, ask why you’re trying to write.

My motivation?  I want to know my works will benefit people and was evaluating my various projects.  My inspirations rode that desire right into “I must do this now,” and I only realized it a while later and stopped.

Part of being a writer is knowing what not to write.  Give yourself a chance to develop that skill, even if you have to ask some hard questions.

Steven Savage