Writing

Dishonor Your Idols Respectfully

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

Serdar wrote on how one gets outside of copying influences to find your own way.  He shares his own experiences, and it’s a journey you’ll appreciate.  In turn, I want to share some of my most formative experiences because they’re about learning what doesn’t fit you.

When I returned to fiction with A Bridge To The Quiet Planet, Sir Terry Pratchett’s was the obvious influence.  Whereas he took on fantasy and cultural tropes, I evolved a fantasy setting into the information age, exploring what that said about both the genre and people.  Combined with my love of worldbuilding, it was a romp through a techno-fantasy world, more serious than Pratchett but also reveling in deconstructing tropes.

When my editor got back to me, I realized I also came off wordy as hell.

Now, Sir Pratchett can be pretty wordy, so the influence is evident.  The thing is, what worked for him didn’t work for me – I worked better with a tighter style.  Sometimes you grow out of an influence by finding what parts fit you and what doesn’t – if one doesn’t fit, throw it out.  Sir Pratchett had to decide to do his own thing as well, and it worked for him.

(As a note, I have revisited Robert Aspirin, my early “funny fantasy” influence, and his tight prose may help me out in future writing).

My second formative experiences as a writer started with Agile Creativity.  I was getting tired of Agile being so bog-standard IT stuff, or seeing applied half-baked to writing or art.  I decided I’d write a book applying the core of the Agile Manifesto to creativity in general.  I was going to explore hardcore Agile and hardcore creativity and do both right.

It got several sales, including one bulk order, and for a time was my most-requested presentation at conventions.  I’ve had very good reception on it, and take great amusement that it uses Agile standards, while being for cosplayers, artists, and so on.

This only led to ideas for other books on Agile, which I’ll be working on in 2022 and possibly 2023.  These will get into the psychology of writing and Agile, and another that let us say will have an attitude.  I stepped away from multiple, stale (to me) influences now I’ve got more places to go – and take my audience with me.

What can I say?  I’m an explorer, I’m the guy that gets weird as a way of doing things better.

Don’t fear giving up on your influences, or winnowing them down, or saying “screw it, I’m doing the opposite.”  Those moments are a critical part of growth as a writer.  I can assure you every influence you have probably had many similar moments, and that’s how they became good enough to influence you.

Honor your influences by deciding when to stop listening.

Steven Savage

The Writer’s Game: Wildermyth

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

Wildermyth (released 2021, Worldwalker games) took the computer gaming scene by storm even after nearly two years in Early Access.  It was well-praised by many, and I can personally attest that it was both fun and gripping.

In the game, one takes a series of generated characters through various adventures, facing monsters and challenges.  Your party faces enemies tactical battles with enemies, wanders the land scouting and rebuilding towns, and engages in unique story moments.  Characters may become legends and be used again in other games – or even reappear randomly – and become more powerful and famous.

It is a game of making legends and remixing them – much as humans do anyway.  It also provides many lessons for writers.

Nail The Feel

Wildermyth ensures it feels like a you’re experiencing an epic tale.  The game’s graphics look like storybook art – on the battlefield, characters and scenery look like paper cutouts.  Appropriate moody music plays throughout your adventures.  Character appearances change, sometimes radically, as mythic powers and experiences change mind and body.

Wildermyth communicates with you by having the proper aesthetic.  Every part of it says “storybook legend.”  Storytellers – whatever their media – need to set the mood as well.

Wrap The Mechanics

As mentioned, in Wildermyth, you save characters after successful adventures and other actions.  This lets you reuse them, “remixing” heroes old and new in adventures and even improving them for later games.  The game portrays this as a “Legacy” of stories that is remixed – like our own Arthurian legends.

Of course, this is just a classic “Roguelite” mechanic of past adventures paying off for later play.  But Wildermyth cleverly wraps the mechanic in a kind of “meta-story” that works with the feel of the game.  Sometimes in writing, “recasting” a common idea differently both enhances a tale, but also ties into the aesthetic you’re aiming for.

Wildermyth contains other familiar mechanics as well – grid-based tactical battles, choose-your-own-adventure options, etc.  But all of these work in service of the game’s aesthetic and goals.

The Moments Count

As one plays Wildermyth, small “plotlets” emerge – partially randomized, partially due to character traits and situations.  A character may find a hidden gem, befriend a forest creature, or have an idea how to ambush an enemy.  Choices may make combat easier, change a character, have them fall in love, etc.

All of these “plotlets” add up over a game session, evolving the characters and their stories.  Your characters are not just an epic quest; they’re composed of these moments, evolving them into someone else.  They may even seem to take on a life of their own as you play.

For writers, this is a reminder that character details matter – characters are composed of them.  It’s also a reminder that these details mean characters may surprise you unexpectedly.

Change Is All

Stories are about change of some kind, even if the only change is in the reader.  Wildermyth embraces change.

In Wildermyth, every battle, every “plotlet” changes the characters and the world.  Enemies get stronger, learning from defeat.  Characters grow in experience, fall in love, get married, become werewolves (really), and more.  In long games, party members retire and may even die, with their children carrying on their legacy.

This change gives the game both urgency and meaning.  There is an urgency to make every moment count, and meaning because every action has repercussions.  In short, it makes each game a story.

Wildermyth I is an example of how change both makes and drives a story – because you play through that change and experience it.

Living the Legend

Wildermyth is a game about creating stories.  Though there are familiar mechanics, the way they are implemented and combined makes the game, well, legendary.  With so much driving your adventure forward, it becomes gripping, personal – and a game writers can learn from.

Lessons for Writers

All works have a feel.  Aiming to achieve that is important to deliver your tale.

You can “re-wrap” familiar mechanics and elements in new ways to fit the feel of your story – and get away with standard but expected aspects in new ways.

Characters are composed of details and “plotlets.”  Being aware of that brings them to life in ways that can surprise you.

Change is what a story’s about.  A good story moves forward (appropriately), and change brings both meaning and grips the audience.

Steven Savage

The Writer’s Game: Dungeonmans

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

Dungeonmans from Adventurepro games is a parody of fantasy games in the roguelike style.  As a titular Dungeonmans (the title is used no matter the preferred gender) at Dungeonmans Academy you sally forth to crush monsters and find treasure.  Near-inevitably your character will die, but their legacy lives on to assist the next student.  Eventually, you accomplish the all-too-common goal of finding the Big Evil and beating it up, then faffing around and exploring if you so wish.

Dungeonmans doesn’t aspire to a unique plot – the game’s charm is that it embraces all the tropes of fantasy and the roguelike genre.  Among the kill-and-loot mechanics and laughs there are multiple lessons for writers – because comedy is challenging.  Fortunately, Dungeonmans is fun, funny, and educational for writers

Embrace The Tropes

The game embraces every trope of fantasy and dungeon-delving games without a single inhibition.  Dungeonmans has dungeons, treasure, towns in need, and everything you’d expect from the umpteenth fantasy adventure game or story.  It doesn’t feel boring or repetitive, because the unoriginality is needed as it’s a parody.

By embracing the tropes, the game meets expectations of gameplay, but also allows it to mock them.  A player gets exactly what they expect in play and story, while also getting to see them taken apart and parodied.  You can’t parody from a distance, you have to embrace it.

Come to think of it, you can’t do anything with a genre without diving in, can you?  Other wise it’s half-baked, whereas Dungeonmans is perfectly prepared.

Explain The Tropes

Good worldbuilding in any story is needed so players understand what’s going on, or think they do.  When you’re playing with tropes, say in a parody game like Dungeonmans you have to explain what’s going on.  The tropes need to be explained as that’s part of the parody – because parody is often taking things to ridiculous lengths or exploring them.

Dungeonmans goes out of the way to explain what’s going on.  Dungeonmans are a recognized profession in a world overrun with monsters and evil.  An Academy was put in place to train such adventurers because they have to come from somewhere.  Some villains you face are even failed heroes, suggesting a kind of “economy of evil.”

The game is thus funnier because of the worldbuilding.  All the things you take for granted in a fantasy game have reasons, reasons both funny and thought-provoking.  Imagining the social and economic implications of professional but expendable monster-killers takes you places like any good story.

Funny Needs Details

Dungeonmans explanations arent’ just broad strokes.  Every item you find or create has a name and text explanation.  What is this wand made of? Why does this ridiculous sword exist?  Is the name of this weapon really twelve words long?  There’s all sorts of little details in the game that make it more interesting and funnier.

Good parody – and any good writing – has those little details that draw you in.   When you’re “in” the world of a story or game, you appreciate it more and feel those chills, thrills – or laughs in the case of parody.  Dungeonmans is filled with these little details, and you might find yourself pausing to read the description of the latest treasure you find.

Into The Depths of Humor

For me, Dungeonmans was the rare experience of a game both funny and engaging.  I kickstarted it, played it at least twice in early access, then once after it was released, and once after many updates.  Every time it was fun, and every time I’d get a good laugh, even with material I’d seen before.  Over these years, I realized these were lessons worth sharing.

Lessons for Writers:

  • If you parody something, embrace the tropes enthusiastically.  That meets expectations while letting you poke fun at the elements you’ve targeted.  You have to know a trope to take it on.
  • Disinhibition is necessary to embrace tropes, or you might do it halfway, and that is often miserable.
  • In parody – or anything involving tropes – you’ll need to explain them.  That makes the world believable, and is even more important in parody or extrapolation.
  • Details matter in any story as they draw the reader in.  They are important for impact – even when the impact is a good laugh.

Steven Savage