Storytelling in all Sincerity

I write fiction.

What distinguishes my work from all others is not my ideas. I am inspired by things that already exist, as fiction or otherwise.

Creating a new language does not make ideas new. It simply confuses what would otherwise be intelligible. A style of writing is gibberish regardless of the language if it is truly unique. Weirdness is ridiculous if not somewhat grounded in reality.

As a writer, I avoid creating new words. If I must, I strive to make them up by combining real words or by modifying real words using prefixes and suffixes already in the language.

I am uninterested in subverting conventions. I have never been limited by the genres and archetypes as they already are. The old ideas are easily made new by simply bothering to give them thoughtful context.

My SINCERITY is what distinguishes my work. The heroes are not to glorify what I believe in. The villains are not to shame what I despise. The stories are not to convince anyone of anything. The dialog is not me speaking through characters.

It is unlikely you understand what I mean. You assume writers are sincere when they truly believe what they write. Take heed: their beliefs are what suit them. Their thoughts are used to shape how they feel more to their liking. The cynical and nihilistic are not exceptions. On the contrary: They are the epitome of insincerity.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Orwellian Sincerity

The novel 1984 is dystopian science fiction. The setting is a world like our own but different. The countries are familiar but different. The empires fight each other through limited actions in disputed territories.

My Sorcerer books are entirely like 1984 in these regards. They are very distinct, however. The social commentary is entirely the point of 1984. It is supplementary in the Sorcerer books.

George Orwell wrote 1984 to make a point about the insignificance of individuals. The world is ruled by impersonal forces. Even the supposed villain, Big Brother is but a face for an actually faceless government.

I wrote the Sorcerer books to make a point about the significance of individuals. The world is ruled by masterminds. They control the otherwise impersonal forces. The heroes are the individuals not in charge yet they still influence events… and sometimes decide the very outcome.

George Orwell created characters to humanize his story about history and politics. I crafted history and politics to provide a setting for characters.

George Orwell looked to systems to make life worthwhile. He was disappointed. I look to individuals. I found one, and that is what an individual is… and I was satisfied. Yes, the world is horrible. Its every system falls short… but so what? Sincerity is real. It cannot be corrupted. It thrives, of itself, whether the world languishes or not.

Then and Now

My interest in the foot soldiers of villainy is since my childhood in the 1970s. I grew up the only one interested. No one even knew there was such a fancy. People were confused when I bothered to explain it to them.

The Imperial Stormtroopers of Star Wars were and are my favorite fictional characters. People were surprised when I preferred Stormtrooper merchandise over anything Darth Vader or Boba Fett. They would argue with me, trying to convince me that my preference was silly.

My interest in the foot soldiers being female is since November 18, 1978. It was inspired by the cartoon Fangface: Begone, You Amazon. My mother explained that the original Amazons were characters in Greek Mythology. I read the myths. My favorite is when Heracles slaughtered naked Amazons as they swarmed him from over the sides of his ship. He covered the deck with their bodies.

It is now the 2020s. I never lost interest in my childhood fancy. It is the thematic specialty of my art and fiction. I am still the only one. My work languishes accordingly… for now.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Making Changes but Not Really

I read and watch fiction and non-fiction alike. There are things I would do differently, both real and imagined. There are things I would not change but I think an alternate version would be interesting.

Languages, disease and weapons of mass destruction are uninteresting. They ruin what would otherwise be history as a story better than any written as fiction.

I love “space opera” science fiction… but dislike the need for life support systems. The characters are bound to ships or suits, no matter their prowess.

I wonder what would have happened had the Confederacy won the American Civil War or the Axis won World War 2. I am glad they were defeated… but am curious. A Confederate victory could mean the Confederacy is an Axis power in the next century… and the very idea is fascinating.

I write fiction. I am generally uninterested in writing non-fiction because writing non-fiction is simply plagiarizing God. He has good ideas but squanders them, so why would I copy him? I use his ideas but in accordance with my own preferences. I do mean as a storyteller, to be clear. I am uninterested in changing his Creation. As a writer, I respect other writers to write what they want how they want it.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Uninspired

I write books. I illustrate the covers and create the title fonts. If my books are ever professionally published, it is very unlikely my covers and fonts shall be used. I may be required to change the text as well. The fiction shall no longer be my private property. It shall belong to whoever buys it from me. My art shall be reduced to merchandise.

I love my creative freedom. It does not pay the bills, however. It does not provide professional marketing. Both the writer and the fiction languish unless I sell my work.

When I was young, the very idea of selling out was unthinkable. I would sell, but on my own terms. Not anymore.

I am getting old. I already have injuries. My unskilled jobs require physical prowess I am losing. I would sell my work if given the opportunity. It would sadden me to have it published without my covers. I would hate changing the stories at someone else’s whim. I would have peace of mind, however. I would have what I need and could live comfortably.

I am learning to not care. I am too tired to bother anymore.

I write and render as best I can, always. That shall never change. It is proving not to matter, though. After all these long years and after all that hard work, I am languishing. My work languishes in obscurity and seems doomed to fade away.

I disbelieve. My ignorance was my only bliss… but now it is simply confusion. I was proven wrong. The idealism in my fiction is fiction indeed. I hope, for that is all I can do, that I shall be lucky enough to eventually have the opportunity to sell out. I shall do so given the chance, but not for fame and fortune of themselves. It is to make myself comfortable as I await the end.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

My Guilty Pleasure

I read the Agatha Christie novel And Then There Were None. I know the title is not the original. The name of the setting was according to the title. The story is what it is however. Its characters are believable, the setting ambient and the plot immersive. It is a murder mystery about murderers as the victims.

My suspect was not the killer. Everything is explained. I felt tricked but not cheated. There was a clue I missed until a character mentions it outright.

I began reading just past midnight in the first hour of Wednesday July 9^th and finished nearly a quarter past 4 PM on Friday, July 11, 2025. I thought to only read at night but read most of the book in the light day. Though scary, it is a murder mystery, not technically a horror story.

What I loved most about the novel was my sympathy for the protagonists. Though they are all guilty of dastardly deeds, I am shown the world from their perspectives. They are not sadists but rather normal people who crossed a line. They are horrified when their dark secrets are revealed.

I dream a recurring theme since my young adulthood. I am guilty of a murder. I do not know who I murdered or if it was deliberate or not. I am living my normal life and at peace when I forget my crime, thinking I got away with it. When I remember, however, I am sickened with dread. I know everyone will turn on me and my life is over if anyone finds out.

Such was my interest in reading And Then There Were None… and I was not disappointed.

Scribe of Dreams

I fancy myself one of the best writers of fiction ever. My opinion is either correct or a delusion of grandeur.

I illustrate my own covers. My covers are not the best ever. They are amateurish more often than not, actually. I create the title fonts. They are not the best ever either.

My excellence is my style of writing. I emphasize dialog and minimize descriptions. I mind the perspectives of the characters, main or supporting, having them speak as if real people.

Style is not enough for fiction to be the best. The stories must be immersive and the characters endearing. The themes must be relevant. The cause and effect must be credible. The ending must satisfy.

I have written many books but garnered few readers. Only a few of the few love my work. The evidence implies that I am not actually one of the best writers of fiction ever.

I read the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft... twice… and intend to read it again. Like me, he wrote many stories but garnered few readers in his lifetime. Few of the few loved his work, most of them fellow writers he corresponded with. He died in obscurity and poverty.

My “delusion of grandeur” may prove otherwise. Then again, I may not be around when that happens. I shall continue to write in the meantime.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

24 Years Ago

July 4, 2001 was my last day working for the grocery store Winn-Dixie. I did not want to leave. It was a good job. Alas, the chain was going out of business in my area. I was already employed elsewhere, with Walmart.

I worked many busy hours at two stores for over two weeks. It was against the rules in both but the managers pretended not to notice. I did what I did with their blessing. I did not stay at Winn-Dixie for my own sake, to be clear.

By the rules of the part of the world I live in, I am morally obligated to give my employers a two week notice before leaving. Working at Winn-Dixie till July 4^th exceeded this expectation.

In my country, July 4^th is Independence Day. It is among the busiest days of the year. When I gave my two week notice, the manager of Winn-Dixie despaired. He remarked that Walmart deliberately hired me quickly to keep him from having enough workers on July 4^th. His accusation was probably true, since the new Walmart supercenter being built was intended to put smaller businesses like Winn-Dixie out of business.

I stayed days longer than I wanted to. Not only was I tired, but there was drama between myself and a co-worker at Winn-Dixie I would rather escape. The manager was not a friend of mine. I did not owe him a favor… for anything. I heard the despair in his voice and saw it in his face. I did what I did for him… to give him peace of mind.

I worked very hard on my last day. I did more than what was ever required. I did not leave until the manager said all was well. He smiled. He shook my hand and swore that if I ever needed him for anything, he would help. There was nothing he could do for me… but I knew he meant what he said. I was glad I did what I did for him.

I did what I did twenty-four years ago. It did not change the world. It meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. It gave one man peace, however. Rather than say “Peace be with you” and leave him to his fate, I acted instead. It was not what I wanted to do… and I had every right to do what I want… but I am what I am.

Clean of Itself

Literature is propaganda when its writer is trying to indoctrinate you. Art is pornography when it is rendered to sexually arouse you.

What if the writer is telling you the truth? What is the real harm of a sexual fantasy?

Propaganda is not always a lie. Fantasy is imagination, not reality. There is nothing innately wrong about sexy propaganda. On the contrary: If it inspires me, I shall have more ideas and energy to write and render my own work.

The unimaginative believe in thought crime. They confuse feelings with intent. They expect everyone to be mindless and numb. Well, everyone else. These people are typically hypocrites. Their sanctimony is to keep a secret.

I am inspired by the art and fiction of liars and perverts. I am not corrupted because I am neither a liar nor a pervert. I am simply energized by the passion they charged their product with. Their art and fiction are like batteries I can use to power my own art and fiction.

Do not fret enjoying what you know was made by nasty people. Quality counts, even when by the hands of the wicked. If you are sincere, only good shall come of it.

My Insightful Ignorance

I have no way of knowing much. I can only assume things are true more often than not. I make the effort to be honest in what I see and hear, however. I try not to spin things to my favor or to my shame.

God is real. Jesus is God. Jesus rose from the dead. He holds the keys to hell and death, as in no one can die or be damned without his authorization. The Shroud of Turin is real. The Prince of Peace by Akiane Kramarik is a portrait of what Jesus actually looks like.

It is irrelevant whether anyone agrees with me or not. They are not me. They do not hold their thoughts to the same standard, not even close. They learn rather than think, more often than not, and are indoctrinated accordingly. When they demand “evidence” they mean an “authorized” opinion. Your argument is supposed to be echoes of “credentialed” strangers.

Judging myself is the hardest thing to do. I must be willing to dislike or appreciate what I see, and honestly. I have judged myself. I shall not be judged.

I am sincere. I am compassionate. I am diligent. I am friendly. I generally distrust people but the world has proven me right. You shall never hear me say “I hate people” because I do not. I bother to notice when someone does something good, and I appreciate the goodness. I praise it. I do not admire strength or intellect. I am not contemptuous of weakness or ignorance. The best to me is the best one can do, not what is expected of them.

There is nothing I dislike about myself. I am naïve. I am confounded by some of the simplest things, especially regulations and technology. I am passionate about freedom and justice and may go to extremes to assure them. I am capable of cruelty. I can kill… and for reasons most people would consider unreasonable.

I am imaginative and creative. These are two things not of my spirit. They are of my nature. My humanity is sanctified by the Spirit, however. My imagination and creativity are sacred accordingly. They are expressions of my sincerity, compassion, diligence, friendliness and distrust. They are parables as art and fiction.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

The Divine Novel

Our reality is a fiction. It is real but as something imagined and created. The characters are alive and make their own decisions but within the plot of a story. The fiction is already written. It is currently being proof-read. Our moment in time is the page the reader is on.

I write fiction. I imagine and create. I have a basis of comparison for understanding what God is doing and why. He wants us to understand. He gave us the ability to figure it out.

People ask, “Why does God allow evil in the world?” and “Why does God allow the innocent to suffer?” and as a storyteller, I can answer the question.

The heroes are heroic because of the villains. The villainy is an evil that must be stopped or avenged. The innocent suffer or there is no point to the story. If there is no wrong to right then the action is meaningless. The bad is good in context.

Our favorite stories are scary or adventurous… or both. We enjoy comedy and romance but even these are especially interesting if in a context that is scary or adventurous… or both.

God allows evil in the world because it makes the story interesting. He allows suffering because it makes the villains especially villainous. Our reality ends with the triumph of good against evil. The victory is earned, not granted.

Sickly Souls

Evil is spiritual disease. Physical diseases came of it. The world was contaminated by sin and has been sickly since.

Original sin is congenital evil. It is your natural tendency to be lazy and cruel. If you live by your nature, the dust settles and the water grows stagnate. You die.

Jesus was born without original sin, as was Adam, our ancestor. Jesus was tempted, as was Adam. Jesus chose goodness, however, so developed an immunity. Adam chose sin, so became sick and died.

The blood is the life of the body. Jesus and Adam are of the same blood, quite literally. There is only one difference... and it makes all the difference. Adam contaminated his by sinning. Jesus did not. By shedding his blood, Jesus offered a cure.

Sin is not always contagious… but it is always unhealthy. It weakens the sinner.

A contagious evil is a plague that spreads across the world. It starts with individuals and ruins their personal relationships. It becomes societal. Entire cultures die out because of it. The world is dying because of it. The End is Nigh, indeed.

Choose Your Destiny

Everyone has a sense of good and evil. Even those who disbelieve in such distinctions act as if they actually do. They simply favor evil and refuse to admit it, even to themselves. They fear goodness, hoping there is a way to escape the consequences of acting against it.

People think to control what is good or evil by making the rules. Morality is replaced with honor, ethics and laws. Good and evil are supposed to be order and chaos or right and wrong instead.

Our sense of good and evil is not because of the rules, no matter the form the rules take. Our notions vary but not the reality. The certainty is when we are alone.

Darkness and silence is the moment of truth. Are you at peace… or restless?

I am blamed by the guilty and hated by the unfriendly. I am cursed for my blessings and condemned for my innocence.

In the darkness I am at peace. I bask in the silence. All are friendly for there is only me. All is good because it is only me. I am satisfied.

Heaven and earth languish. The inhabitants yearn and struggle. All of Creation groans. For all its cheap thrills and instant gratifications, there is never satisfaction. All is consumed and nothing comes of it. What little fruit is born is poisonous. What good deeds are done are like filthy rags.

You can burn hospitals and orphanages to the ground, with everyone in them. You can rape and murder children, even skin them alive. There is only one sin never to be forgiven, just one. According to the Truth himself, it is the worst of all others.

Why?

To blaspheme the Holy Spirit is to curse goodness itself. A man speaks from the abundance of his heart. If he speaks against goodness, he is not merely making a mistake. His sin is not because of confusion or desperation or a moment of passion. He is evil at heart.

True Fiction

Our knowledge of the world before our time is based on hearsay and speculation. We are told what suits agendas. We learn misconceptions believing they are true.

Our knowledge of the world today is limited to our own experiences and what is claimed by other people. Our memories are faulty and biased. We hear from people trying to convince us what suits their agenda.

I am a writer of fiction mindful that perception is not reality. None of the characters truly know themselves or others. Their notions of their world are biased no matter their honesty. The same universe is very different from the perspectives of the various inhabitants.

My genre is usually action-adventure. When horror it is usually survival horror, a subgenre of action-adventure. The stories are usually struggles of good against evil.

The villains may not be as villainous as the heroes believe them to be. The heroes may not be as heroic as we would assume. This could be a matter of moral ambiguity. The point of a story may be to show that the world is not “black or white” but rather “shades of gray.”

There is no moral ambiguity. People are confused by their notions. They assume good and evil are matters of right and wrong as codified by law, scripture or unwritten rules. Their moral compass is honor or ethics rather than actual conscience.

I never vilify or glorify my characters. They speak their own minds. Their motives are personal. Readers typically confuse this with moral ambiguity. They assume I am cynical or nihilistic. On the contrary: I wholeheartedly believe in freedom and justice.

In my fiction, like in reality, people live according to their perspectives… but the truth is what it is regardless.

In the Mouth of Madness

Sutter Cane is a fictional character based on H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King. He writes horror novels. His final book is about the end of the world.

In the movie In the Mouth of Madness reality is effected by the writing of Sutter Cane. His following has become a cult and is changing the world. The protagonist is an investigator who begins to wonder if the fiction is influencing reality directly.

I have read H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King. I am familiar with the work of Sutter Cane accordingly. The idea that such an author is the high priest of a cult makes wonderful sense. Of course he is the writer of its unholy scripture.

The novels of Sutter Cane are weird and scary. They are about monsters and people turning into monsters. The protagonists are victims rather than heroes. The stories are about perception and reality. The supernatural is either madness or real… and is presumably real, driving people mad.

I write fiction. It is always weird and usually scary. It is about monsters who turn people into mindless thralls. The protagonists are heroes and normal people are their usual victims. The stories are about perception and reality but as the distinction between what is taught and what is actually witnessed. The supernatural is real.

I was inspired by the movie In the Mouth of Madness. I watched it just before midnight on May 15, 2025 and finished after midnight, May 16, 2025. I shall write my own fiction, turning what I liked into a survival horror adventure.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Underlings of the People

Are the foot soldiers of villainy the people of their boss… or not? The underlings are expendable either way but there are distinct connotations to consider.

Humans are social creatures. We are more apt to get along with the people most like us. We understand each other if we are alike. There are inevitable misunderstandings if we are unlike. Our goals are different if our values are different.

The villains are nasty if they expend people of different races and ethnicities… but they are especially villainous if they expend their own. Our feelings for strangers are impersonal, no matter our compassion. Diversity is people as strangers. If the lives of our own are cheap, the lives of others are worthless.

A boss may be viewed with suspicion if he is of a different race or ethnicity than his underlings: A Jew hiring Catholics for a heist or a German commanding Ukrainians in the SS, as examples. He may be revered instead, however: A dark elf commanding orcs or a demon commanding human cultists, as examples.

It does matter whether a villain is of the people of his underlings or not, for better or worse. It does color their relationship. It should factor in the story.

I write fiction. My thematic specialty is the foot soldiers of villainy. The characters are sometimes the people of their boss… and sometimes not. My choice is a matter of storytelling. It is a layer of depth for an aspect of fiction that is usually flat. I am glad I bother. My work is better for it.

Ten Years Ago From Now

Today is May 12, 2025. What shall my life be like ten years from now? I shall be sixty-four years old. Shall I still be working two jobs, fast food and a grocery store? What friends and family shall still be with me? I write books and illustrate the covers. What more shall I have finished by then? Shall any of it be famous by then?

Ten years from now shall occur. Ten years ago was horrible. I was unemployed and my house was no longer my home. My life today was unknown on May 12, 2015.

If I open a novel I can read later chapters first and earlier chapters later. The story is what it is regardless. I wonder if time is the same way. Alas, I am but a character in the story that is reality. My moment is the one being read and not by me.

Ten years from now is already today. It is already yesterday. The moment is what it is already.

I hear the claim that the future is not written. It is what we make of it. Oh? Who chose when or where they were born? Did you write your own genetic code? Your free will is entirely on someone else’s terms, to be clear.

Shall I remember to read this ten years from now? Shall I smile wondering why I worried? Shall I miss what are better days? Time will tell. It always does.

Really My Fiction

I write books and illustrate the covers. I have always used my real name… until I released my novels The Wayward School for Girls and Sorcerer of the Realm. I used the pseudonym “Mister Nobody” for those two and the related books that followed.

The first book is about a dreamlike world where most everyone is either a child or elderly. The same characters can be either depending on their moments in life. The villain is the principal of an elementary school and uses his own students as child soldiers.

The second novel is about a Nazi sorcerer and his apprentice, his teenage daughter. Together they commit mass murder using magic and technology. The girl’s mother is the hero of the story.

The themes of both books are controversial. No one who has read either has a problem, but many people are outraged by premise alone. Cancel Culture could cancel me regardless of what I actually wrote.

GOOD NEWS!

The thought police are losing their power. People are tired of them. We are becoming free to think for ourselves again.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Weirdly Normal

My Weird World universe began as a short story that became a novel. It expanded with a collection of short stories and another novel. The second collection is pending. The cover for the fifth book has already been illustrated.

The universe is entirely dreamlike. Our world does not exist in theirs. The weirdness of their reality is normal in context.

The genre is horror. Even the adventure stories are survival horror. The dreamlike is typically nightmarish. Most people are children or elderly… thus weak and witless.

The villains of Weird World are the rulers of the world. They have a right to be villainous. Whatever they take is theirs already, since they own everything… and everyone. They can rape and kill with impunity. The heroes cannot turn to the law for deliverance. It is instead used against them.

My thematic specialty as a writer of fiction is the foot soldier of villainy archetype. Weird World is no different. Children are the cannon-fodder baddies. They are the ordinary sons and daughters of normal people used as goons by the forces of evil.

My Weird World is weird… but its weirdest aspects are the most realistic… and that is why the genre is horror.

True to Life

Humanity is individuals as male or female. It is families as races and a species divided into cultures, factions and nations.

Most individuals are insignificant. The nameless many instead identify as male or female by family, race, culture, faction or nation.

I write fiction. I populate imaginary worlds with imaginary people. Like in reality, most of these people are insignificant. They are nameless accordingly, instead recognized by their sex, race, culture, faction and nationality. They have no other identity.

Unlike everyone else, main characters are significant as individuals. Their sex, family, race and nation are incidental. Their personality is more important than their culture and decides their role in a faction.

I realized fiction is true to life in the simplest of terms. The heroes and villains are important. No one else really is, except as nonentities to save or slaughter.

Bad for Now

My circle of friends is broken. I live alone. My finances are dependent on my unskilled labor as a middle-aged man with injuries. My creative endeavors languish in obscurity.

Optimism is wishful thinking. There are no signs of things getting better.

I am blamed for my troubles. I am told I should do this or could have done that, blah, blah, blah. Never mind that I never rob or exploit. I work for my living. I work hard. I literally broke my back acting above and beyond for the very capitalists who fired me for it.

Humanity is a prolific species of lonely creatures. My friends drift away, sooner or later, and usually with little or no warning. I am loved when convenient and disliked at a whim. I am told this is not a problem since it happens with everyone. It is especially a problem because it happens with everyone!

I take care of myself as best I can. I am thrifty and mind my health.

I never sacrifice other people. On the contrary: I am mindful to never gain at their expense. My good deeds are secrets.

I would be blessed to reap what I sow. I am instead cursed by the endless grind of a world going nowhere. I am crushed by the grinding.

Artistic Vanity

I am a nobody who writes books and illustrates the covers. My work languishes in obscurity. It shall most likely fade away, unnoticed into oblivion.

I am frustrated by my inability to achieve fame and fortune. I am disheartened by the disinterest in my work. I do feel as if I am striving in vain.

Do you draw or paint or sculpt? Do you write poems or novels? Do you sing or dance? Do you write music? In other words: ARE YOU AN ARTIST?

I turn my daydreams into words and pictures. It is my art to do so. My thoughts and feelings are clarified by the effort. By bothering to articulate what I imagine, I refine it. By turning it into product, I can share it. I have inspired people, though very few.

Is there a point to my pointless toil? Am I achieving anything by my relentless failure? Do I have anything to show for what remains unnoticed?

I am an artist for better or worse. That I even bother must count for something... otherwise it is best to be feckless.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Surprisingly Sexy

Young women and manly men are sexy by default. This is why they are the usual sexiness of art and fiction. This is why an adventure story was typically about a warrior rescuing a fair damsel.

Other things are sexy too, and some of them universally. Uniforms are such: Men and women are especially attractive wearing them. People love women cringing and screaming in fear: Such was the damsel in distress at her sexiest. It is her superiority over the “Mary Sue” that was supposed to replace her… and failed to do so.

I write and illustrate fiction. The sexiness of my work is the most important aspect. It energizes everything else.

The sexiest thing to me of all art and fiction is a hairy monster effortlessly breaking the neck of a clueless guard. It was three panels in a comic book I happened upon in 1983.

I have incorporated what is sexiest to me into my own art and fiction. It shall never be as sexy to others as it is to me, however. It is not even sexual, actually. The erotica is exclusive to my imagination.

I write and illustrate what I imagine. People shall read and see from their own perspective. What is sexy to me may be nothing of the sort to them… but they may be aroused by something I did not even consider sexual. Someone may be inspired by a scene or illustration beyond what it was meant to be… and that is a good thing.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CG279LYG?ref_=ast_author_dp

Motion Pictures

Since childhood, I imagined writing, directing and starring in movies. I would compose the soundtrack and design the props and costumes.

I grew up making toys and costumes. I improvised and directed a short play. I wrote stories and illustrated them. I wrote scripts. I have since acted and voice acted. I compose music.

The child is now a middle-aged man. I write books and illustrate the covers. I create the title fonts. I still compose music and voice act.

I still imagine making movies. I think I would have been good at it, one of the best. Alas, reality is what it is, not what I imagine.

My interest in movies is as an artist. The fame and fortune give me influence and resources. The motion picture itself is pictures, prose, fashion and music as one and the same. Movies are the ultimate artistic medium… because it is all of them.

Youngsters tell me video games have replaced movies as the ultimate medium. They argue that games now have every aspect of motion pictures but as something interactive.

It is counterproductive to limit imagination to the unimaginative, which is most people. As a writer of fiction I know it is generally better to deny readers a say. A good story is consistent and meaningful. It has connotations and nuance. The end fulfils the beginning. A video game can only match a movie if it limits the choices of the players, turning the game into a movie.

Wayward Fashion Sense

I finished my c.65,000 word novel The Wayward Monster Girl on April 2, 2025. I started reading it on April 4^th and finished it on April 6^th. It proved better than I thought it was while writing it.

The story is a surreal adventure about a little girl who becomes a monster… yet remains a little girl. She kills people. Most of her victims are other children, little girls conscripted by the villains. She drinks blood… and likes it.

I wrote what was supposed to be a short story for the collection Stories of a Weird World. The setting is the Weird World universe, a dreamlike version of our world. The story became its own book. It was written for no other reason than to give an illustration context.

Since childhood, my favorite thing to imagine is the easy killing of clueless guards. These victims are usually armed and uniformed foot soldiers of villainy. Though the Imperial Stormtroopers of Star Wars are my very favorite in the mainstream, I generally prefer women in alluring costumes.

The Wayward Sentry Girl is the foot soldier of villainy of Weird World. She is not a woman, however. In her universe, most people are either children or elderly. She is a child. She is barefoot. Her uniform is a sleeveless white shirt and skimpy red bottoms. A blue “W” is on the breast of the shirt.

I wondered what the type would look like if I reversed the color scheme. I turned the white black, the red green and the blue orange. I liked what I saw… though not better than the original scheme. I made it the uniform of “elite” troops to explain why it is in use but by fewer girls.

Strangely True

Our dreams are weird, as is our favorite fiction. The strangeness is strangely normal. The nonsense makes sense in context.

The very best non-fiction is actually fiction. It is legends and propaganda taken seriously. Uninspiring reality is dramatized into wonderful stories. We are inspired by what is imagined, even if we are horrified by it. Dreams, even as nightmares, are wonderful.

Truth is what it is, not what we believe or imagine. The best fiction is true. Its realism grounds it. Its weirdness expands our consciousness. The story is a dream we experience while awake. We see reality play out in a fantasy. Everything is summarized and clarified as symbols and scenarios.

Jesus taught in parables! He told the truth as a storyteller.

There is nothing weirder ever written than the Book of Ezekiel and the Book of Revelation.

Fantasy. Science fiction. These are weirdness as genres. They are The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings and Star Trek and Star Wars and The Cthulhu Mythos and Alien. They are the classics, quite literally, as Classical Mythology.

I write fiction. It is weird. The stories are fantasies as truth. They are waking dreams I give to everyone to dream. As of now, they languish in obscurity… as did the Arkham Cycle written by H.P. Lovecraft. It will be a success to fail as he did.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

My Claim to Fame

I write fiction. I finished nine books in less than two years. I illustrated their covers and created the title fonts in that time.

I am not making money writing fiction. On the contrary: The time I spent cost me hundreds of dollars. It is an expense not a career to do what I do. It is all worth it, however. A have books in print to show for myself. They are priceless as art… though worthless as commodities.

The two Sorcerer novels are military science fiction. The two Weird World books are surreal horror. The five Black Death novellas are black comedy action-adventure.

My work languishes in obscurity… for now. I sympathize with H.P. Lovecraft. His work, like my own, was weird and unappreciated.

My thematic specialty is the foot soldier of villainy archetype, female versions specifically. If my work ever becomes famous, it shall not be because of this. Readers may appreciate this oddity of mine, but not of itself. The context I provide shall make it interesting.

What few people read my work say the dialog is believable as real people speaking, the descriptions are easy to visualize and the immersion is beyond the stories themselves. If my work ever becomes famous, these three traits shall be why.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

7 or 9

My novel The Wayward School for Girls began as the idea that most people are children. There was no story in mind. There was only the realization that most adults are childish. I imagined the reality as literal.

My thematic specialty is the foot soldier of villainy archetype, female versions specifically. The characters are always young in my work. They are always ordinary. They are typically adults because I want these useless antagonists to be at their best, so that their inglorious fate is deserved.

The foot soldiers of villainy are action-adventure characters. They set the standard of ordinary by which heroes are measured. The story would be an action-adventure accordingly.

The best mainstream use of children as the nameless baddies is the 1999 video game Silent Hill. A school is infested with the dehumanized students who bullied the daughter of the protagonist. The hero slaughters them in droves, and not to avenge his daughter. The children swarm him relentlessly. They are the mindless servants of the evil trying to be born.

The setting of my fiction would be a school, like it was for the child soldiers of villainy in Silent Hill.

I started writing what became the novel The Wayward School for Girls before I even knew what I was going to make of it. I finished fifty days later. I illustrated the cover a week after that.

I decided from the beginning that the children of the story would all be the same age. The heroes and nameless baddies would all be little girls. I had yet to decide what age, exactly and what costumes the characters would be wearing.

In the book Through the Looking-Glass, the sequel to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the protagonist states that she is “seven and a half years exactly.” I decided the girls in my story would be seven years old… but changed my mind before finishing. The dialog of the characters would be more interesting if they were slightly older… so I turned them all into nine-year-olds. The actress Fairuza Balk was nine years old when she played Dorothy Gale in the wonderfully scary movie Return to Oz. Her performance gave an example of what I preferred.

I have written many books, several of them novels. I consider The Wayward School for Girls to be among my best, if not my best. It is a long and adventurous nightmare as survival horror… and I enjoyed the ride. I hope those who read it have as much fun doing so as I did writing it.

https://www.deviantart.com/yellowplasma/art/The-Wayward-School-for-Girls-full-cover-1043500403

The Wayward Interzone

I read the novel Naked Lunch… and was amazed by how similar it is to my novel The Wayward School for Girls. Both books are surreal to the point of absurdity. Both are strangely violent and sexual. The main difference between the two novels is that the erotica of Naked Lunch is generally homosexual and that of The Wayward School for Girls is generally heterosexual.

Boys are the victims of lust killing in Naked Lunch. They are murdered for the viewing pleasure of patrons in a nightclub and hung from the ceiling. Girls are the victims in The Wayward School for Girls. The principal calls students to his office and has his way with them, murdering them when is he finished.

Naked Lunch is about a man on the run from the authorities. He ventures into exotic lands while doing so. The Wayward School for Girls is about two little girls on the run from the authorities. They venture into strange lands while doing so. These stark similarities are coincidental.

Naked Lunch was written by William S. Burroughs. It was published in 1959, when the author was forty-five years old. The Wayward School for Girls was written by me, Shawn O’Toole, when I was fifty-three years old.

Burroughs was a hedonist. He indulged in every pleasure. His novel is about indulgence. Interestingly, he is honest about the consequences of such a lifestyle. Everything is expressed matter-of-fact, rather than as social commentary.

I am wholesome. I seldom indulge. My novel is about indulgence, however. The villains rape and kill but the protagonists enjoy killing too. Everything is expressed honestly. My fantasies are unabashed.

I wrote The Wayward School for Girls and read Naked Lunch in 2024. They are both weird fiction erotica of a type seldom read or written. I am glad I am not the only one to fancy such a style.

World War of Another World

As of March 11, 2025, my novels Sorcerer of the Realm and Blood of the Sorcerer are perhaps my best work yet. They are military science fiction.

The world is very much like our own… yet quite different. Speech was never confounded into languages. Contagions are unheard of. Weapons of mass destruction are obsolete.

The history is very much like our own… yet quite different. The continents are named after the sons of Noah. The Confederacy won the War Between the States and became the Empire of the Golden Circle. Adolf Hitler is Adolphus Wolf and takes over the European Union in a 1930s that are the modern day.

The universe of the fiction is White Empires. The world is ruled by six powers, five of them of the race of Japheth, white people. The sixth is Japanese as the Empire of Dawn.

Britain is Albion. The United States and Confederate States are of New Japheth. The Soviet Union is still the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The European Union as the 3^rd Reich is the Great Realm of Japheth.

I love strategy games, especially as world conquest scenarios. Though I created White Empires as a setting for prose, I did have such games in mind.

The Sorcerer books are pre-war stories about covert operations and counter-insurgencies. The inevitable war shall be between the Axis and Allies. The Axis powers shall be the Great Realm of Japheth, the Empire of Dawn and the Confederate States of New Japheth. The Allies shall be the Albish Empire, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and the United States of New Japheth.

The Axis shall be outnumbered and outgunned. Its only advantage shall be taking the initiative. Once is makes its move it must win quickly. It cannot conquer the Allied empires, mind you. The Axis can be conquered by them, however, though not easily.

The Realm invades the Soviet Union from the west and the Empire of Dawn invades from the east. The Albish Empire and the United States declare war on the Realm and the Empire of Dawn. The Confederacy invades the Midwest region of the United States. The Axis hopes to conquer the Soviet Union quickly then sue for peace. The Confederacy shall relinquish its gains for recognition by the United States of Missouri and Kentucky as Confederate states.

If the Axis wins…

The Soviet Union is divided into new regions of the Great Realm of Japheth and the Empire of Dawn. The United States normalizes diplomacy and trade with the Confederacy.

If the Allies win…

The Empire of Dawn falls and Dawn is reduced to a vassal state. The Realm and the Confederacy are dissolved, their states small and weak divided and kept that way.

Awaiting the Spotlight

The greatness of art and fiction is decided by very few. When influential people tout something, everyone is interested. When the influential few lose interest, so does everyone else.

I write books and illustrate the covers. My work is not yet noticed by the influential few. If it is, it must interest them… or my work shall languish in obscurity.

I think my fiction is among the best ever written. Whether it is or not, it is not yet popular. It is unknown to those who could tout it to greatness.

Who are these influential few? They can be authors, publishers, critics, actors, producers, politicians, singers, scholars, editorialists, internet influencers or whatever else. They are either famous and influence the public directly or important among those who are famous.

Is my fiction among the best ever written? I think so… but I am not among the influential few. Ultimately, it is for them to decide.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Apocalypse

The true horror of nuclear weapons is not their destructive power… but rather their lack of it. Though they can kill by the millions in an instant, millions more are left to die slowly. Victims shall languish in agony from burns or they shall starve to death.

People flippantly remark that we should nuke other people. Not everyone is serious when they say such a thing. Everyone who does mean it is evil, regardless of their self-righteous indignation. They are stupid, confident that they can terrorize the world into submission.

A limited nuclear war? Wars do not escalate anymore? Seriously? The mindless brutes are mindless indeed. Their sophistries of apocalypse without consequences demonstrate what Jesus meant when he said, “professing themselves wise, they became fools.”

There shall be a nuclear war. It shall not end the world in an instant. It shall wage for years, the most horrible years ever. There shall never be a worse year afterwards. Humanity shall have its hell on earth… and in vain.

Tightrope Writing

My art and fiction are too extreme for the mainstream… but too tame for the undercurrent of the mainstream. The sexuality and violence are the problem either way.

I write books and illustrate the covers. The stories are usually about comely girls uniformed in alluring costumes as the easy victims of heroic violence. The illustrations are usually these girls.

People dislike that female characters are killed, and by the heroes. Other people are disappointed that the violence does not include sexual assault.

I write and render what I fancy, to be clear. My art, as words and pictures is what I want it to be. I am always trying to share the fun I have daydreaming. The fiction and illustrations are refined versions of my whimsical fantasies.

The sexuality and violence of my art and fiction is how I imagine it for my own pleasure. It is as extreme or tame as I personally prefer.

I am sensitive to the sensibilities of the mainstream. I am mindful of the fancies of the undercurrent. Alas, to oblige the one is to exclude the other and vice versa. I am uninspired lest true to myself, regardless.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Books Grow on Trees

I have been drawing pictures since my childhood in the 1970s and writing stories since my adolescence in the 1980s. In the 2020s I write books and illustrate the covers, doing both things of my youth as the same project. Then again, I did likewise though differently in the 1980s, when I wrote, drew and colored pages of comic books I never finished.

My reason for creativity is what it was from the beginning. My interests have not changed, though they have matured.

I am supremely confident as an artist. My work is never perfect. On the contrary: It is sometimes inarguably ridiculous. My inspirations are likewise, however. I have yet to read a book or comic book, watch a show or movie or play a video game that cannot be complained about ad nauseam. I have yet to love something not hated by other people.

I do wonder if my work is good or not. Of course some of it is better than others. I create what I want to create and how I want it, but art must inspire other people to be good. I can daydream without writing or rendering what I imagine, so there is no point in writing books and illustrating the covers for me alone.

I have a strong sense that my work is not only good… but very good. My fiction is better than the classics and its covers shall be appreciated as the true vision of the author.

Like Abraham, I grow old waiting for my wish to come true. Likewise, it seems unlikely. My hope is unrealistic and I am deemed a fool for hoping. I believe in myself and my belief is scoffed as a delusion of grandeur.

Judge the tree by the fruit it bears. I am fruitful in my life as a mortal man. I write books and illustrate the covers. I create the title fonts. I have product to show for all my hard work. Getting it to market is difficult, especially since there is no market for what I offer quite yet. My work is different than what the world expects. The difference shall make all the difference, however.

I am a man of the spirit, not a man of the flesh. Though as mortal and only human as anyone else, I am immortal and supernatural at heart. My stories are parables, as they were when Jesus was a storyteller. The themes are worldly but the message is divine.

Style and Message

I write fiction. My style emphasizes dialog and generalizes descriptions. I illustrate the covers and create the title fonts.

My genre is weird fiction, usually as action-adventure. Much of my work is horror but most of this is survival horror.

My thematic specialty is the foot soldier of villainy archetype, female versions specifically. Their role in the stories is as unimportant characters, more often than not. The erotica is nuanced rather than overt, with few exceptions. The sexiness is generally that the nameless baddies are comely girls uniformed in alluring costumes. The heroes are typically female.

I strive to make my stories immersive. I do so mindful to match the pacing of the read with the experience of the characters. The dialog must be from the perspective of those speaking, even if at the expense of the reader knowing what is being talked about. The motives of the characters must be their own, regardless of the plot.

A good story has a moral and my fiction is never an exception. The meaning is always spiritual, and I do not mean as religious indoctrination. The social commentary is a matter of context, not the actual message. My fiction celebrates personal excellence at the expense of collective mediocrity.

SILENT HILL: Homecoming

Silent Hill is a survival horror franchise. It is video games, movies and comic books. Its style is ambient and its themes emotional, psychological and sexual. The first game, the beginning of the franchise, was inspired by Shadow over Innsmouth by H.P. Lovecraft and Twin Peaks, among other things. The second game, the one that defined the franchise, was especially inspired by Twin Peaks.

I love Silent Hill. I loved Twin Peaks before playing, watching and reading Silent Hill. I write books and illustrate the covers. Much of my work is inspired by these two franchises.

My favorite Silent Hill is the games. The second game is inarguably the best… but my personal favorite is the first. My second favorite is typically hated by Silent Hill fans: Homecoming.

I love everything hated by those who hate Silent Hill: Homecoming. The protagonist is an excellent fighter rather than a normal person fighting desperately as a normal person. The Nurses are ubiquitous and highly sexualized.

People argue that Silent Hill is horror, so playing a warrior is inappropriate. They argue that the sexualized Nurses introduced in the second game were as they were symbolically, thus, without context in Homecoming.

The monsters must represent the psychology of the protagonist? What did the Numb Bodies or the Insane Cancers of Silent Hill 3 represent? What about the Split Heads, Mumblers and Air Screamers of the first game?

The protagonist must be a normal person? SPOILER ALERT: The protagonist of Homecoming was born and raised in a sect of the mysterious religion of Silent Hill. His family was charged with hunting and killing monsters that wandered into the real world from the Otherworld. His being a proficient warrior is given context appropriate to the lore!

Another complaint about Homecoming is that it is Western. Silent Hill is Japanese, though set in the United States of America. Japan already made four games. The franchise already has its Japanese flavor. What is so insufferably wrong about an American company making a game set in America?

The only thing I disliked about Silent Hill: Homecoming is that you cannot get the “good” ending unless you euthanize your mother. Other than that, the final act was much better than they were in previous games. There is a villain and the villainy makes grim sense. As strange as the universe is, it was wonderfully humanized.

My Fantastic Inspirations

The Wizard of Oz (1939) is the greatest movie ever made. No motion picture has had such a profound and lasting influence on culture, not even close.

I write fiction. My stories are books but the greatest movie ever made was based on a book. Though drastic changes were made, no book, no movie.

The Wizard of Oz was strange, adventurous and sometimes scary. Its plot was immersive and its characters endearing. The stakes were life and death. The protagonist was a heroine in the classical sense: She ventured into danger willingly and ultimately slew the villain.

Alice in Wonderland (1951) is inarguably a classic. It is a horror movie, despite its silliness. The protagonist is a little girl who falls into a fairyland of madness. The natives are maniacal and ramble nonsense. They eventually chase the girl, to chop off her head.

The movie was based on two books. I read them. Though the stories were as silly as that of the movie, they were not scary. There was never danger. Though the Queen of Hearts ordered beheadings, the condemned were always pardoned.

I grew up inspired by the adventure that was The Wizard of Oz (1939) and the scariness of Alice in Wonderland (1951). Their strangeness made it all the better. Though they were supposedly ridiculous, I took them seriously. I still do. My own work is better for it.

https://www.deviantart.com/yellowplasma/art/The-Wayward-School-for-Girls-full-cover-1043500403