Good Enough

In 2003 I published a roleplaying adventure called The Lost City of Barakus. It was the second book-length adventure I’d published in two years, after having published a couple short adventures in Dungeon magazine. I quite liked Barakus and its predecessor. They were based on a concept of game design I’d been chewing on for several years, one that emphasized exploration and choice over a grand storyline. This type of game is now commonly referred to as a “sandbox” adventure. I didn’t know that at the time; I just thought the idea seemed cool.

I was writing and publishing these adventures at the same time I was writing and not publishing novels. I was frequently preoccupied with the quality of my prose in my fiction. I didn’t believe good sentences were my passport to publishing success, but I did see them as conspicuous ambassadors of my ability, like the soaring high notes that draw applause to a singer. I wanted that applause in some form, and secretly believed I’d be happy if someone would just notice what a fine writer I was.

I recently stumbled across a long review of Barakus posted a year after the adventure’s release. The reviewer liked the adventure for the same reasons I did, which was nice. He also made a point, at the end of the review, of mentioning that the writing was, “fantastic, and often transcends the medium.” He then quoted an example of a character sketch, noting the specificity of the details.

Rereading it, I too liked that passage, though I didn’t remember writing it. What I remembered was that I didn’t worry about the writing at the time. It was just an adventure. So, I was loose, and amused myself as best I could. I didn’t need the writing to say anything about me or prove anything. In fact, I had no concept of another human reading it. I would write it, and get paid, and that would be that.

Barakus actually won “Best Adventure of 2004.” When I learned this, I felt absolutely nothing. It was a little like learning who’d won an Oscar that year: it didn’t change anything. Of course, I had in Barakus discovered the actual key to all good writing, though I did not know it. After all, it was just adventure. It wasn’t supposed to change anything. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It was fun and interesting to write, and that was enough.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com