Those Important Days In Our Stories

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

I was discussing Serdar’s upcoming worldbuilding-intense novel Unmortal.  It’s a setting with many stories, but his philosophy is one novel a setting, so he told the most important story to tell.  I commented offhandedly, “In a 1000 years find the most important day.”

What story do you tell in a world is a powerful question.

We usually build worlds for a reason because we have some idea of what story to tell.  But if you’re a heavy worldbuilder (like myself), questions arise as you write the first story or plot the next.  You have to ask “what is the story worth telling?”

Without spoiling my plans, my Avenoth novels originally focused on college students and faculty in a techno-mystical world.  Without spoiling my plans, my initial plot was not as interesting as asking how did we get here.  In a way, I ended up writing prequels to a novel that may never be – exploring what kind of people teach in a world of internet-using gods and mystic technology.

The second novel, “A School of Many Futures,” was a similar experience.  Originally the story was a mix of murder mystery and parody of conventions and trade shows.  It would see my collection of hyper-competent but oddball heroes try to shepherd a group of students through rolling chaos at a giant convention.  It was amusing, but the story was just “an idea,” and it didn’t have reason to exist.

As two of the characters are freelance teachers, the notes that became “A School of Many Futures” fit far better.  It fit my themes, fit the characters, and let me further explore the themes mentioned above.  It also fit my greater goals of deconstruction, and it was a pleasure to take on the “magical school adventure” trope.

What about my unused ideas?  My extensive notes have been used in a world guide for readers and may be used in an RPG.  Avenoth is a large setting that plays with tropes – perfect for a game.  Your unused ideas may find similar life in other places.

As writers, we must remember our audience only has so much time, and we have so much time to write.  Asking “what is the story worth telling?” is a question we can’t avoid.

Steven Savage

Dishonor Your Idols Respectfully

(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

(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