I am soooo excited for Bitch Factor 10 to be a stop on the Circuit Theory Virtual Book Tour. Circuit Theory, written by Kirby Crow and Reya Starck, takes place in a virtual world, much like our own. Wait, no, this is the real world. Kirby and Reya are real world authors. Yet, I am... ok, maybe I better ponder that another time. Now, I hand BF10 over to Reya for a guest post. Stay tuned at the end of Reya's post for a Circuit Theory blurb and don't forget to leave a comment and your email addy to be entered in the CT giveaway.
Game Worlds as Inspiration
Reya Starck
As
I write this I’m sheltering under a gilt-trimmed gazebo from a violent
thunderstorm that blew in across the vertiginous canyon walls that surround me.
A small cloud of fireflies is keeping me company and providing some comforting
light as the rain pelts onto the metal canopy of the gazebo and I shiver under
the blackened clouds in my t-shirt and jeans.
The
storm departs as quickly as it arrived, and I step out into a miraculously dry
world, taking my fireflies with me. Following a winding path built along what
appears to be a dry riverbed, I find myself in a clearing, surrounded by the
strangest plants (at least, I hope they’re plants!) I have ever seen.
They
look like floating brains with straggling, jellyfish-like tentacles, and they
are just as unreal as the bulbous green tubes that sporadically puff out golden
spores a little farther along the clearing, and just as unlikely as the angular
black creatures that are dangling from the overhang of the canyon walls: the
ones I’m trying not to look too closely at.
I
am, of course, not in any place that can be found on Earth. In fact, I’m in a
place called Eder Kemo, one of the garden ages in the online world of URU Live,
and if I keep walking past the floating brains and puffing plants I will pass
through a low stone tunnel and arrive at my destination.
It’s
just one small area of this virtual world: a peaceful pond with stepping stones
leading to the exit of this age. Above it, a massive stone causeway soars,
casting a deep shadow across the water. It’s here that I stop, because this is
the place I have logged in for.
It
never changes (apart from the regular, but short-lived storms) and its tranquillity
and atmosphere are exactly what I need for a scene in a story that I’m writing.
My headphones are clamped to my ears, and the game sounds are perfect:
the soft slap of water against rock, the chirring of insects, the sigh of wind
high above me as it follows the same canyon path that I’ve just taken. I bring
my text file to the fore: URU window on the left of my widescreen monitor, Word
on the right, and I begin typing.
A
few days later, I log in again, but this time I head to the derelict ‘pod age’
of Tetsonot. A creaking, rusting observation chamber filled with darkness,
dripping water, and the occasional last-gasp flash of dying red lights. My main
character is in a prison and, while it’s not as battered and neglected as this
area of the game, it’s what I’m feeling as I stand in there that’s
important.
I
don’t like total darkness, so fear is edging its way around me, looking for a
way in. The pod is hollow, the drips echo, the staccato flashes of light
startle me. I’m unsettled, in a place that I desperately want to escape from.
It’s every prison, everywhere. This time I’m not here for my eyes; I’m here for
my gut.
It
can be difficult to explain to a non-gamer the level of immersion that’s
possible, but if you’ve ever been late for work or bed because you got lost in
a good book, or you’ve exited a movie theatre and been blindsided by having to
fit your cinematically-altered peg back into the hole of real life, then you’ll
understand that it’s perfectly possible to stand on a virtual beach under a
virtual sunset with virtual waves crashing, and experience a very real
kind of relaxation.
All
writers end up with folders on their computers that are stuffed full of
inspirational images. Writers who are also gamers often have additional folders
full of game screen grabs which, while they don’t find their way into stories
in their game format, nonetheless lurk in the writer’s mind as they type. The
shimmering green mosaic roof of an in-game temple may end up as a translucent
blue mosaic window in the home of a healer; and the primitive carvings on a
canyon wall might become stylised hints of a visiting alien salvage company on
the outside of a rusting spaceship’s hulk.
Some
might think that using parts of game worlds to inspire creative writing is a
form of cheating, and indeed it would be if images were lifted wholesale from
the coded world and dropped into the written one without any further creative
thought given to them. But there is no more deception involved in loving that
green mosaic roof and transmuting it into a blue mosaic window than there is in
any form of art over the centuries.
Creative
people have always found inspiration in whatever world they inhabit. Rand and
Robyn Miller, the creators of the original Myst series on which URU Live
is based, took hundreds of real world photographs, parts of which they later used as
textures in their games. And Myst itself was the forerunner of all
Steampunk games; its look and feel and even its music inspiring a new
generation of game-creators.
We pick
and we sift. A bit of rock from here, the gleam of mosaic glass from there, the
annoying habit of a work colleague, and the scent of mildew in an old library.
We stir it with a pen, let it simmer in our minds, and then dish it up on the
page.
We hope
you enjoy your meal.
Blurb:
Attraction
is Binary.
Dante and Byron are avatars. Driven by
human beings, yet still only digital representations of their ideal selves. In
reality, they live far apart, but share most of their waking and working hours
together in a virtual world called Synth.
In Synth, like in most code, the laws are
infinitely more simple and infinitely more complex. Navigating the system rules
of virtual lovers is like steering through a minefield of deceit, suspicion,
heartbreak, and half-truths.
Under pressure, Dante makes a friendship
that trips Byron’s warning bells, disrupting their carefully-ordered lives and
calling into question the wisdom of trusting your heart to a man you can never
touch in the flesh.
Kirby Crow worked as an entertainment
editor and ghostwriter for several years before happily giving it up to bake
more brownies, read more yaoi, play more video games, and write her own novels.
Kirby is a 2010 winner of the Epic Award
and a two-time winner of the Rainbow Award for her published works in fiction.
Her published novels are:
Prisoner of the Raven (historical romance,
Torquere Press, 2005)
Scarlet and the White Wolf: The Pedlar and
the Bandit King (fantasy romance, Torquere Press, 2006)
Scarlet and the White Wolf: Mariner's Luck
(fantasy romance, Torquere Press, 2007)
Scarlet and the White Wolf: The Land of
Night (fantasy romance, Torquere Press, 2007)
Angels of the Deep (paranormal/horror, MLR
Press, 2009)
Circuit Theory (scifi, Riptide, 2012)
Reya Starck lives in England,
never gets quite enough sleep, and is a professional procrastinator and
consumer of chocolate. By day she is an intrepid bacteriologist, eradicating
microbes for a better world order. By night she writes wonderfully queer
stories featuring an array of lovely men.
My thanks go out to Reya and Kirby for including Bitch Factor 10 in the Circuit Theory Virtual Book Tour. I'll (virtually) see everyone later!