Good writers read, the same way good directors watch movies and good chefs eat. Also chefs would kick it if they don’t eat, so it’s doubly important for them. Obscure indie author Stephen King said: “If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.” He called it “the great commandment.” And he was right.
But storytellers of all mediums can be inspired by any story. I’ve always been a voracious reader, true. But I’m as much a gamer of games, and there’s no shortage of wonderful stories that come out of a cartridge, a spinning disc, or through the cosmic strings of the interwebular infonet.
I suspect a lot of writers my age have found inspiration on the other end of a DualShock, a mouse, or a Duke.
Here are a few games that have wormed their way into my heart, and through my keyboard. Worms often go through keyboards, which is why that metaphor was fucking amazing. I was being self-effacing but now that I think about it worms are a kind of virus, and computers have keyboards, so I’m accidentally a genius. You’re not reading this intro anyway.
Dark Souls Inspired Me To Dream (and to Work)
Two things make DARK SOULS peculiar as story inspiration: one, these games are most famous in the zeitgeist for being “those super hard games that masochists whip themselves with” and two, for not having a traditional story. In fact, if you don’t read item description or scan the environment (or watch YouTube videos), you could play all three games and have no idea what’s going on or why you’re doing anything that you’re doing.
DARK SOULS 2 even makes it a plot point. At the beginning of your adventure, the Withered Hag with Secret Wisdom in the Starting Area says this to you: “I believe they called it Drangleic. Perhaps you’re familiar. No, how could you be. But one day, you will stand before its decrepit gate. Without really knowing why…”
I got into the DARK SOULS franchise (and BLOODBORNE) during the pandemic and my family health crisis, because if you’re going into Hell bring a buddy. After a few false starts I fell in love, precisely because of the story ambiguity. And the immaculate vibes.
But what makes the story in these games great is how subtle and open to interpretation they are. You learn a bit about the gods who simultaneous created and destroyed civilization, you get clues about the undead curse and your place in it. About a Flame that can be rekindled to halt or reverse this terrible entropy (for a time, anyway). But is restarting the old cycle a good thing, even? Does it really benefit humanity to come back under the yoke of fickle gods and the rules that benefit them? Is there comfort in the dark?
Another brilliant aspect of the story is how it’s reinforced and created by the gameplay. There is no separation between story and gameplay: the things you’re doing, and how you do them, are the story. For my nerds, that’s called “ludonarrative resonance.”
So, the main character is under the effects of the Undead Curse. As are many humans in the setting, creating the “medieval zombie apocalypse” you find yourself in. In the story, anyone affected by the curse cannot die. They simply “hollow,” resurrecting over and over and becoming more undead-looking each time. And gradually losing their identity/purpose. Eventually, a cursed undead may give up entirely, lose all of their will and go catatonic/mad, another mindless zombie with a broken sword dotting the landscape. But this isn’t just set dressing.
When your character dies in the game–when you’ve taken too many bullshit giant arrows to the chest–you lose all of your “souls” (experience), and are shunted back to the respawn. It sucks. You as the player want to give up. You don’t want to go through that obstacle course of misery again just to hopefully progress a few more feet than you did last time. Screw this. I’m logging off. Maybe I don’t want to play ever again.
Your character has gone hollow, because you went hollow. You died too many times, and you lost your will. Your purpose–finish the game–wasn’t strong enough. Your character is now another rotting skeleton shambling through the halls for some other player to kill and run past without a second thought.
These games inspired my writing in two ways. One, I love the haunting but beautiful story, the landscapes, the sad and noble creatures you must defeat to progress. The “least bad choice” style of endings. Being able to write the story yourself as you play, sparking new ideas in your own mind. It’s practically a story generator.
Second, it inspires me not to give up. Even when writing is exhausting, when it takes forever to write a book, when sales are slumping or non-existent, when a book I spent two years writing has three reviews. Why am I toiling alone and failing over and over again just for some distant light I can barely see anymore? It’s easy to quit. It feels good. It feels logical.
But when my spirit wanes, DARK SOULS teaches me to dust off my armor, fill my estus flask, and go get murdered again. And again. And again.
As Oscar of Astoria tells you in the very beginning of the first game:
As for direct inspiration, the manuscript I’m currently working on (and have hammered out a few thousand remarkably serviceable words for so far) is my attempt to share with readers the feeling I get when I play DARK SOULS. The loneliness, the despair and triumph, the sad but admirable dignity of once-great marvels reduced, diminished, by time and tide. The big-ass swords, etc.
Come Back Next Wednesday for Part 2
This blog ran longer than I anticipated and I have a lot more inspiration to share! And awesome games to talk about. Pop in next week for me waxing poetic about Legacy of Kain, the Final Fantasy series, and more.
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B.C. Johnson 