What makes you love your fiction?
Me: This is a long-held desire of mine that I've only been able to fulfill after years of being merely an observer/reader. I want to write fiction that represents my conscience.
Since the fiction I produce these days comes from the tabletop games that I play solo, I find that getting into the mind and persona of your main character really helps.
Now, I'm still pulling stuff over from my Substack so there is so much more on the way but, here's the thing, whatever you think of the writing, if it helps, I'm not at all in love with it myself so there's that. Still working on it for the past 34 years.
It's the fact that, in the case of The Nocturneverse (a game of Night Shift: Veterans of The Supernatural Wars using Vampire: The Requiem, World of Darkness Second Edition and Mage: The Awakening as setting/lore) I get to be the haunted cowboy warlock riding around on a Harley, taking weird cases, performing acts of magic but always afraid to because...every act of magic is a chance for Paradox. I get to be the vampire frontman for a gothic rock band known around the world.
I got to be in front of that crowd when I bridged Symphony of The Damned to them when the guitar's chord hummed and the piano played and that voice sang out to a crowd singing in unison:
"The stage is set
the altar gleams
a thousand voices
chase my dreams
their breath,
their heat
it feeds the fire
a hunger grows
a dark desire
The strings cry out
The drums decree..."
Then the mic is thrust out over the first couple of rows and the crowd erupts as I held that microphone over them and heard them sing with the music the band was performing
"This Curs-ed Song Belongs To Me...."
The entire arena sang the outgoing stanzas while I stood there, watching them, listening to them for a change.
After forty years, I stood there on that stage, hair wet, shirt long-since gone, leather pants, combat boots, guitar slung across me.
I didn't utter one more vocal to that song.
After forty years, they all finally got it.
It's not my song.
I didn't write it for me.
I wrote it for them.
My gift to them.
Finally, I played the most blistering version of the song's lead that sends it off, good and proper.
The song ends on a single guitar and piano chord.
I stand there and watch thousands of cellphone lights and lighters go up.
The show is closed.
This never gets easier, does it?
...That's what I love about it. I get to be a rock star, a planetary explorer, a pit-fighter, a journalist in the 1920s, A Wild-West Gunslinger Set In The Dark Tower Universe by Stephen King, a hacker on one final run. I never look at something and say "Coulda Been Me..." when I can bring out dice, pen, paper and a little set of rules and say "It will be me today, son!"
...then I get to make it your problem.