You can also find some of my work on DeviantArt.
Life Is Strange
I’ve completed my first novel, a work of Life Is Strange fan fiction titled “After This“. It follows the “Sacrifice Arcadia Bay” choice; the chapters alternate between Max’s and Chloe’s perspectives as they work through their grief and deal with unresolved issues.
The Secret World
No other game has endeared me to the midnight underbelly of our darkest fears more than The Secret World, a horror-based MMO that managed to enthrall me despite the fact that I have no interest in the horror genre. I took great delight in writing about the shadow-veiled mysteries that my character, a modestly dressed, bookish accounting student, explores with a cool equanimity that flirts with frosty dispassion.
Guild Wars 2
I’ve always had a chaotic relationship with Guild Wars 2. I consider it to be the template for a great many things I would want to see in my dream MMO. Tyria was the first game world that inspired me to put some of my idle fantasies and wistful imaginings into words. More than anything, I appreciate its rich lore, expansive history, and breathtaking visuals.
“I came into this world the daughter of an unambitious farmer and his plain-looking wife. In my younger days I never really ventured very far beyond the weathered fields of Shaemoor. Bandits and centaurs would periodically raid the outlying fields for food and hostages – only the most enterprising (and perhaps foolhardy) among us were permitted by the Seraph to tend those volatile plots of land. It was not uncommon for even the best-guarded cropsmen to occasionally disappear in the quiet of the night…”
“I was first directed to the site of the fatal manifestation of Mordremoth’s earthly grasp at Fort Salma in Kessex Hills. It was here that I had glimpsed the visage of Belinda Delaqua in her eerily grey-hued, ghastly form. She stood atop the parapets of the southwestern gate, unmoving and unmoved – the slightest disturbance would cause her substance to vanish into a transparent mist. She would eventually reappear, usually during the midnight hours…”
“The Legionnaire’s labored in-breath was punctuated by coarse, staccato closures. It didn’t help that he hadn’t yet adapted his breathing patterns to the sandy, chinook-like blasts of wind that came through every so often. He scowled as he inhaled another cloud of dusty particulates. ‘I keep getting sand in my mouth,’ he growled. His female companion snickered and remarked snidely, ‘So don’t swallow it.’…”