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Type:Rider, an adventurous colon.

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I posted the second video of the second level of Type:Rider. I learned even more about the history of typography and writing. It’s insane how much a game can teach me that my English classes in high school failed to cover because of curriculum. Oh how I hated standardized testing.

Watch the video here.

The second level was the Gothic level. As it did in the first level, the art in the background just amazes me as I jumped around as the colon. I’m a huge fan of history, literature, and art. Ironic part is I am taking a Humanities class that encompasses all of that. I even used my first video as a reference for a discussion post. Video games and education! WOO!

Type:Rider is a game developed by Ex Nihilo and published by BulkyPix and Plug In Digital. It’s a brilliant indie game that I hope my videos spread that awesomeness to other possible gamers.

I’ll play it through till the end.

Remember to keep writing, keep reading, and keep gaming!

H.P. Lovecraft Games

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My first H.P. Lovecraft game that I played for PlayingWithWords was an indie game made on GameJolt, by Cloak and Dagger Games, called The Terrible Old Man. Of course it was based on the short story by Lovecraft himself.

Watch the video here.

The first interaction with H.P. Lovecraft was probably the huge geeky icon that is Cthulhu. More specifically, my cousin was explaining the entire concept of the tabletop game Call of Cthulhu. It blew my mind that there was so much behind another short story.

I’ve got several Lovecraftian games in line up for PlayingWithWords, so I hope fans of his readings will stick around to see them!

Remember to keep writing, keep reading, and keep gaming!

PlayingWithWords

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What is PlayingWithWords? It’s a YouTube channel based on bringing together the common ground between gaming and writing. There are dozens, if not hundreds, games that are based on writing, writers, authors, books, short stories, poems, etc. My goal is to bring entertainment for gamers, writers, and readers.

You can watch my introduction here.

As an author of two books, I not only draw my inspiration from the obvious (reading), I also gather it from video games. I’ve played video games for as long as I can remember. Even before I started writing short stories in kindergarten, I was playing my N64.

I never really hear about authors playing video games, at least mainstream ones. I know writing is always number one priority for writers, but you can’t really get inspiration if you are always writing, can you? If there are others out there, I want to show them that video games are a great way of getting inspired and be entertained, outside of books.

I know gaming takes time, as does writing. Personally, gaming can easily take over most of my free time. So with PlayingWithWords gives me short bursts of gaming and commentary that give me the inspiration to write more.

I love being a writer, and I will always be a gamer.

Remember to keep writing, keep reading, and keep gaming!

(Poem) Shadows and Damn Regret

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They say the closer you are to light,
The longer shadow you cast.
In my pilgrimage, the saying is correct.
Each step towards the light, I’d fall.

Past remains the past, nothing can change.
I must live with the consequences.
The light stays in sight, hoping for salvation,
from the terrors of the world.

Regret is a word that floods the air.
The light shines through the darkness of each letter.
Waking up in such a nightmare,
Following the light is all I can do.

(Poem) The Letter

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The words lit up the pages in my hands.
It was a heart and soul in writing.
Such emotion had been absent from me for some time.
My heart moved as my eyes absorbed each word.

The words I had read were quite a surprise.
I didn’t expect anything of the sort.
I reread each line to get the feelings over and over.
My heart ached as I thought of reality, and of life.

The future still stood unmoved by the letter,
neither my actions or the words could decide for me.
Feelings I have and had change over time, it seems.
My heart beats are all I hear in the night as the words run through my mind.

What do I do now?
Where do I go?
The letter seemed to change me, just like it always does.

(Poem) Everything Reminds Me…

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How the heart retains such emotion
to feel things even after such a time…

Even an attempt at getting over
the huge barrier of feelings is such a task…

Something always there to remind me
the way I feel about you…

At what cost would it take
to turn back time and start again?

Such a fantasy, the thoughts
of getting a do-over…

But is it?

(Poem) The Masks Beckon

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And just like that I caved.
I couldn’t help it.
Every day the thoughts build up uncontrollably.

How can I resist what I’ve had such strong feelings for?

And just like that, I’m saddened.
Because I messed up.
I live with that every day.

Can I simply change who I am to be with who I want?

And there sat a box of masks.
I want to be real.
Every single day I wish to be me.

Can I not be happy how I am?

(YouTube) First writing game is up! Type:Rider #1

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Uploaded my first Let’s Play! It’s the game Type:Rider which tells the history of writing over the years with different cultures.

The game is fun so far. Loads of reading, so hope you enjoy my terrible reading out loud skills!

Check it out here and subscribe for future Let’s Plays and games about Writing, Reading, Authors, Writers, Books, and more!

Links

Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_mFACZ5rdM

Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMkCXJrSslJYgafXkJrE9wA

(Poem) Shattered

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Staring endlessly at the white pages before me,
I am constantly reminded of you.
You were my muse,
probably more so than anyone.

In my new way of thinking,
it’s quite hard to hate you.
I brought it upon myself,
yet it was so easy in the past.

As the block consumes my mind,
I wish for your happiness.
For both our sake,
don’t give in to the evils of the world.

For I know a new muse is out there,
broken and shattered, just like me.

(Poem) The Brown Eyed Girl

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I’ve made a mistake.
I kept tabs on her like I keep a bookmark in a book.
Like coming back to a book, and suddenly the story is completely different.

After our last conversation, it was sure nothing would change
the dreadful outcome of our lives.
The idea of you being happy was all I needed.

But you couldn’t just be happy without me.
You let go of the light and fell right into the darkness of your past.
A rebellion against me, I’m sure.

Like you strike your lighters and matches to drugs,
so will I, to everything we once shared.
A box is nothing more than a box if left unopened.

Even more so when it is reduced to ash.