Dark Days Are Here…

London in The Secret WorldOnce again demonstrating my total lack of impulse control, I picked up The Secret World during Steam’s latest sale. This game has stuck with me since my trial ended, and despite misgivings, I decided I wanted to continue with it.

I did this despite the fact my computer can barely run it (as you can probably tell from my screenshots), despite its subscription fee (which is a business model I grow more disdainful of with each passing day), and despite an endgame that holds very little appeal to me. That I even considered buying this game despite those issues shows there’s something special about it.

I’ll still play Guild Wars 2 on the side. It’s fun a game, but after a while, it gets a little… thin. It’s not a meal, so to speak. I’ll elaborate on this in a future post.

The Secret World's introductory mission in the Tokyo subwaySo I uploaded my game key, and after many wipes on the account reactivation boss (Seriously, Funcom, did you get your puzzle team to design the account management?), I hurled myself back into the dark mysteries of The Secret World.

…BUT THE WILL OF THE TEMPLAR IS STRONGER!

I don’t see a lot of point to alts in The Secret World. There are no extra races or classes to try, and there’s very little faction-specific content, but TSW is a bit more challenging than your average MMO, and I’m out of practice, so I rolled myself a Templar alt to get back into the swing of things.

Commence Diablo III jokes.

The Templars aren’t quite as colourful as the Dragon, but they do have some swanky outfits, and I appreciate their old world style.

My Templar alt meeting with Richard Sonnac in The Secret WorldThis is also a good opportunity to experiment with new weapons and builds without wasting AP on my main. I’m trying swords and chaos magic right now. Turns out that chaos is melee magic, which is an archetype I’ve always enjoyed. Now I’m tying my brain in knots to figure out how to add chaos to my main’s build…

I haven’t had much time to play so far, but these are my early impressions on returning to the game:

I forgot how awesome the audio in TSW is. The music is deliciously creepy, and the sound effects are absolutely stellar. All the little sounds in the background make it very immersive.

I also forgot how much my computer struggles with this game. I can practically hear my CPU grunting and panting through every lengthy load screen.

My Templar alt at her faction's headquarters in The Secret WorldEither they’ve expanded the options for starting clothes, or females get a much better choice than male characters. My Templar looks snazzy right out of the gate, even if she doesn’t have one of those sweet Templar uniforms yet.

Why on Earth do people say that combat is TSW’s weak point? I’ve never played an MMO with combat so thoroughly and immediately satisfying. People say the combat is clunky, but what’s clunky about it? The speed at which you can churn out your finishing moves? The fact you can almost always move while casting? The diversity of enemies that keeps you on your toes and using your whole toolkit?

I don’t get it. My Templar lady has completed a grand total of two missions (not counting the intro in London), and already, I find fighting on her at least as satisfying as on my thief in GW2 or most of my WoW characters.

Everything is true:

My Dragon character showing off his faction uniform in The Secret WorldOnce I’ve gotten reacquainted with the game a bit, I suspect I’ll go back to my main, finish off the Savage Coast missions, and move on to Blue Mountain and eventually the rest of the game.

I doubt I’ll bother with dungeons or the new Manhattan raid — with my computer in the state it’s in, I’d probably just be a liability to groups anyway.

The general consensus is that The Secret World’s quest design and writing is of such high quality that it’s worth the price of admission even if you just treat it like a single-player RPG and never bother with the MMO aspects, so that’s pretty much what I intend to do.

And now, I must return to chopping up zombies in New England.

New article:

My latest WhatMMO article is 5 In-Game Memorials. I must admit, even the cold depths of my black heart warmed a bit upon researching some of these stories.

Why You’re Not Jeff Lindsay, and Why That’s Okay

I recently finished reading the latest novel from Jeff Lindsay’s renowned Dexter series (“Double Dexter” for those keeping score at home), which was also the inspiration for the Dexter television series. If I’m being honest, I think this was one of the weaker installments of the series, but I was once again struck by the quality of Lindsay’s delightfully witty prose.

Cover art for "Double Dexter" by Jeff LindsayJeff Lindsay is one of those rare writers who can truly claim to be an artist with words. His prose is vibrant and brimming with wit, and it’s honestly the best part of the books.

But that’s just the thing: this talent is very, very rare. I can count on one hand the number of authors I’ve read whose prose was a significant part of what made their work enjoyable. (For the record, the others are Douglas Adams, Glen Cook, and James Maxey.)

I’m not talking about writers who can occasionally pull off a brilliant metaphor or a perfectly paced piece of dialogue. I’m talking about someone whose writing is consistently delightful, who could write about the most mundane subject and make it interesting purely through their use of words. One of the funniest things by Douglas Adams that I ever read was a description of his own nose.

I find, however, that many writers — be they professional or amateur — still focus heavily on this one aspect of the writer’s craft. They seem to feel their work is not valid unless their prose is on par with that of the greats, that their worth as a writer is determined largely or solely by the quality of their prose.

Cover art for "She Is the Darkness" by Glen CookThere’s an entire genre devoted to this. Literary fiction is largely about pursuing the most artful prose.

But it’s brutal honesty time. The fact is that the vast majority of writers are not capable of producing truly brilliant prose, and most of the people who pursue it are probably wasting their time. You’re not Jeff Lindsay, and you shouldn’t try to be.

But that’s okay:

Writing good prose is an important part of being a writer, but it’s only one part. By focusing myopically on this one aspect, you risk neglecting everything else about your story.

This is part of why I could never get into literary fiction. Most of the writers seem so caught up in trying to perfect their prose that they forget to actually tell an interesting story or create characters that I want to read about.

Cover art for "Greatshadow" by James MaxeyAnd here’s the most important thing: those authors who sacrificed everything in pursuit of perfect prose? Their writing still wasn’t that good. Why?

Because they’re not Jeff Lindsay.

Most people seem to think writers are born, not made. I disagree. I certainly don’t believe I was born with any particular talent as a writer. I do have a natural inclination towards the creation of stories and worlds, but that alone does not a writer make. Any skill I have as a writer has come through years of study and hard work, and I think anyone could become a decent writer with enough effort.

However, if you want to truly be a master wordsmith, to be able to weave metaphors and imagery like a Lindsay or a Cook, I think that may require some inborn talent.

I’m not saying, “Can’t win; don’t try.” What I am saying is, “Know your limits.”

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy logoThe fact is it’s okay if your prose is ordinary. As long as it tells the story effectively, you can afford to stand on your other strengths as a writer.

For the record, I very much count myself in this category. I know my prose is nothing special, and I know it never will be. I simply try to make it good enough to tell the story as best as I am able. I guess you could say I view myself as a bit like a reporter: there are scenes playing out in my head, and I’m just trying to describe them as accurately as possible.

Most writers are in this category, frankly, including most of my favourites. J.R.R. Tolkien, J.K. Rowling, Ian Irvine, and H.G. Wells are all examples of brilliant writers with unremarkable prose.

Good prose isn’t everything. A book with a gripping plot and engrossing characters can be successful — both economically and artistically — without exemplary use of words.

Remember what I said at the start of this post. Despite its brilliant prose, “Double Dexter” was still a fairly mediocre book.

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My latest article at WhatMMO is 6 Ways Living in an MMO Would Suck.

Don’t nerf me, bro.