Silent and Weird

I am not a gamer but I do play video games. One of my favorite franchises is Silent Hill. It is scary, sexy and adventurous.

Children were nameless baddies in the first game. They lurk in a school and try to kill you while you explore for clues. You kill them to survive. This was the original version of the game and the one released in my country... but it was changed for the rest of the world.

You are a father trying to find your daughter. The children trying to kill you were those who bullied her. You read the insults carved into her desk. You hear her crying in the stall of a restroom.

Nurses are nameless baddies. They lurk in a hospital and try to kill you while you try to find your missing daughter. They are caring for her but not for her sake. They are keeping her alive because her suffering empowers their sinister bosses.

You are tended by one of the nurses. She cares about you and your daughter. She tries to help you... but alas, is already corrupted and becomes like the others.

Silent Hill is scary because it turns the least dangerous people in reality into monsters. It is sexy because it is normalcy as strange and violent. It is adventurous because the protagonist must fight and kill to prevail.

I write and illustrate fiction. My Weird World books are the most like Silent Hill.

From Mind to Pen

As a writer of fiction, I know what it is to be inspired. It takes time and effort to turn what was easy in an instant into a story. Context can be vague in a daydream but there is no plot if it is so in writing. What is understood intuitively should be assumed to be nonsense unless articulated.

As a writer of fiction, I know what it is to be frustrated. The frustration is either a failure to express the inspiration or success but it is unappreciated.

I illustrate the covers and create the title fonts. It is unnecessary for me to do so. I am told my covers are bad and I should let them be designed by “better” artists. Alas, a book is not entirely dear to me unless the cover and font are mine as well.

I am not at liberty to write freely. Even my friends and family would turn against me if I did so. I must temper my work mindful of their sanctimony. I bother to do so because I do not write fiction to keep it to myself.

I enjoy my own fantasies by daydreaming. I write for no other reason than to share what I imagine with others. The version they read is tame to compared to the original.

If I was candid, my social commentary would be deemed extremist. My sexual themes would horrify. The moral of a story would confound rather than enlighten.

I can write what I want as I want it. It is unlikely I would be censored, since my work is unknown. I dislike shocking readers. My fiction is written to entertain, not to change the world. I want people to have fun. I shall write non-fiction if I ever want to teach them anything.