I’ve got a post percolating about stories, games, and plot vs. character, but I’ll save that for tomorrow and instead point out that I wrote a guest blog over at ktliterary.com today: On Being Rexroth: Living with a Literary Agent.
Posts under ‘Writing’
Stories within Games
“That,” Kate said, her face lit with a kind of bemused, awestruck, lopsided grin, “was the best damn movie I’ve seen in a long time.”
The context?
This was last week. She had just finished playing Mass Effect 1.
For pretty much as long as there have been computer games, people have debated their value, or worth, or [...]
Keep track of yourself
Okay. This one’s been waiting awhile. Consider it a ponder-gift for the weekend.
Storytime
It’s August. It’s South Dakota. It’s hot. I’m headed back to college, driving the Brown Beater. The Brown Beater is a real piece of crap; it overheats if you idle in one place for too long, it overheats if you drive it too [...]
The story behind Vayland Rd.
As always, Vayland Rd. is for my Dad. It’s not a subtle story, or graceful, or maybe even good — but I like it.
I originally wrote it as part of a fundraiser for prostate cancer research, which was the goblin Dad was fighting at the time. The prognosis was bad, but the end result was [...]
Vayland Rd. [9] — The End
~ The End ~
How do I end a story like this?
We got home with the sun coming up. By the clock in the kitchen, my part in the whole thing had been only about twenty-four hours.
It seemed longer.
Dad was, if not ‘all right’, at least ‘alright’ in the stoic, bull-headed parlance of the Midwest. He’d [...]
Vayland Rd. [8] — The Fall
~ The Fall ~
One of the real people walked up to him. He was limping, and had a
my
gun in his off-hand. There was a big stick in the other.
”It’s time to go home, Dad,” the young man said.
Steven looked up at his face, with its hurt eyes, and frowned.
”I think that he will stay here.” [...]
Vayland Rd. [7] — The Fight
~ The Fight ~
Most people, sitting back on their couches and watching this play out on television, might have wondered why I believed all this from the start. It was a good question; if I’d wrtten it out as a story, my main character would have yelled bullshit as soon as Brock and Bhuto showed [...]
Vayland Rd. [6] — The Needles
~ The Needles ~
I stood on the edge of Vayland, looking down into a ravine. Silver pain pulled at a single point in my body, dredging up memories.
When I was a kid in the first house my family ever lived in, my room was next to the living room and, thus, the television. After [...]
