Creator Statement

Not a manifesto

As I begin this writing it is 2022, with the process continuing into 2023. The New Year is always a time for making resolutions and that inspired me to do something different. I want to try to outline my beliefs as a creator in this writing. The term creator is used rather than writer because it will apply to anything I make. This will also cover my thoughts on the current state of things and how I fit into it.

My main fears with this is that it will sound pretentious and at times incendiary, since I have strong feelings that will be on display here. But I wouldn’t write this if I didn’t think it.

The Merit of All Fiction

I like stories in all their forms. No medium of story telling should have to fight for the right to be seen as legitimate, yet this is a battle I have fought in with video games. The same problem exists with genres as a well.

The term literary, the label that declares a work inherently superior to all other stories, is my enemy. I reject the categorical hierarchy of which stories are allowed to have meaning. It’s telling that most can accept that children’s books have deeper meaning and nuance, yet the thought of this also being true of a book for teenagers is decried in the classes they’re forced to attend.

I don’t care about the literary canon, whose members are often compared to icebergs. This is supposed to demonstrate how they have profound hidden meanings under the surface, but beneath the water is nothing different from what you see above the water, only more dull and pretentious ice. There are members of the literary canon I like, but this is in spite of their place in the canon.

Meanwhile the fiction I enjoy and seek to create are pyramids. Monuments and embodiments of human civilization, places of reverence and remembrance that allow us to learn more about the past. Each layer of a pyramid supports and elevates the next. Nothing is pointlessly buried and requires a lengthy essay to explain why you should care. People don’t have to be taught to find pyramids interesting, pyramids are interesting.

A story doesn’t need to sacrifice the part where it’s enjoyable to have depth. Depth isn’t some elite prestigious quality only the chosen few possess. Even stories not intending to have such things can end up with consistent themes. An otherwise unremarkable story can have one well executed element worth examining.

Stories that are passed down because people love them will always be more important than a story that is passed down because people are forced to read it. I’m no longer interested in winning the approval of people who look down on my creations categorically.

I want to write stories that people care about. Stories that spark emotion and reward deeper thought. The kind of stories that are discussed and inspire others to create. Maybe some will call them literary, probably the same kind of person who says Tolkien wrote allegories, but not me.

Distant Stars

I believe that too many people have forgotten how to read the words in front of them in their search of some hidden truth, no better than a deluded conspiracy theorist. To understand fantasy, you must first accept that the dragon is a dragon. Yet people remain afraid of dragons.¹

What I see around me are accusations of allegory used to downplay fantasy, treating it as a cipher for hidden messages instead of its own language. Discussing a dragon as a dragon based on what we know about dragons is unthinkable to some, they must be a mere proxy for something real.

This is a self centered view of fiction, demanding all other worlds exist only within the orbit of our own (or in most examples, the orbit of the United States). To understand a distant planet, you must accept that it inhabits a completely different section of the universe with its own history. Dragons are at their most truthful and revelatory when not reduced to mere code words.

The worlds that exist within my head are distant stars. They have parallels to the real world, because the whole point of parallel lines is that they do not intersect and are distinct entities. These parallel lines each fit into entirely distinct constructions, like a bird searching for materials for its nest.

Transformative Works and Mythology

Transformation is a power I hold in high regard. A transformative work done well can provide another way to view the original. It is an act of love towards the original. To use it properly, responsibly, one must take the time to understand the original.

Transformation is a power that is frequently misused. There are those who use it out of disrespect to the original and envy of its success and admiration. Or those who reduce the original to a blank projector screen, transforming everything either into the same thing or with no regard to the actual properties of the original.

The above refers to fanfiction, works that draw on mythology or public domain media, and even official parts of established franchises once it has run for long enough. Despite this none of those three categories could be considered the exact same. However there is one case where I find a similar divide has gone unacknowledged.

Comparing the Aeneid to fanfiction was originally a defense of fanfiction by showing how stories building upon older stories has a long history. While skills developed through fanfiction have helped me with writing about mythology, I fear that comparison ended up having a negative impact on the understanding of mythology, where people now treat mythology as exactly the same as fandom for a long running franchise.

Virgil wrote the Aeneid as a descendant of Aeneas or at least one of his companions. Jupiter and Venus weren’t characters to him, they were deities that people made offerings to. It’s not the same as watching a movie and wanting to explore more of its world, or reading a book containing myths of an ancient culture to a child and inventing some of your own once the book is finished.²

The likes of superheroes and Star Wars can’t fill the void of mythology (not for a lack of trying) because they are only fiction, there are no rituals and prayers that guide daily life, people don’t include the Skywalkers in their ancestry. In some ways I wonder if the curse of the United States is to be a country with no true mythology of its own, or perhaps the absence of myth originates from modernity, it’s a tangent regardless.

Most of my writing deals with mythology in some way, even if indirectly. That’s why I find it important to properly understand it, and wish that more people would show a similar concern. I hope that my writing will be respectful towards the cultures whose myths and folklore have given me inspiration and enamored me. And I hope that my other transformative works also show respect and understanding towards the source.

Other feelings

I don’t want to be ensnared by algorithms or popularity. I want to write for humans, not statistics. The highest level of popularity I want is cult classic. There’d be some obvious benefits to (somehow) becoming the next big thing, which make it easy to fantasize about, but I’m sure the reality of it would be miserable.

Many common statements and beliefs regarding fiction exhaust me and seem more dogmatic than anything else. Minimalism should minimize itself from being the default and ‘death of the author’ should die in an unmarked grave people graffiti random nonsense onto.

I want people to know about my writing. I want to have the kind of impact where my writing inspires others to write. I want to spark a love of mythology the same way fiction sparked my love of mythology.

Now that I’ve put all of this out for people to read, perhaps my way forward will become a touch clearer. Or I’ll find someone who feels the same way.

1. The use of dragon here is influenced by a speech Ursula K. Le Guin gave.

2. This is referring to Rick Riordan and the story given for the inception of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, an influential book for me that inspired my love of mythology.