#Interview with the author;

[skyrigel]

[papiliomame]

‘Danny Phantom’ Series Developer Steve Marmel ‘Always Imagined’ Danny Died In Ghost Portal Accident That Gave Him His Powers

I'm suprised no one posted this here yet. An interesting interview about what could have been if it was an adult show ( quote from the article):

“If it was an older show, it absolutely would have been Danny hanging on to his mortal coil for both selfish reasons and the people he loved,” Marmel continues. “But [when you’re making a] kids’ show you don't want to go, ‘Hey kids! Good morning! Here’s mortality!’ Butch has his own backstory — it’s in the song! — and that’s canon. But in my head, it allowed me to write Danny with a little more depth than just, 'I'm inexperienced and sometimes dumb!’ No, you’re grabbing life by the horns because you've already experienced what it's like to not be a part of it.”

[fervi-g]

David Foster Wallace.

[interact-if]

Writing Spotlight: Infamous (Interview)

We had the great pleasure to interview Amy, author of the massively beloved IF Infamous (@infamous-if). She shared some tips, tricks, and insights on her approach to writing.

One of the most notable things about Infamous is how quickly readers get sucked into its world and invested in its web of characters — be it Orion or Blake or G or Victoria or the slightly controversial Seven. They are all incredibly multi-faceted, complex, and sometimes heartbreakingly real.

Amy says:

“I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak.”

Here’s the full interview:

1. What drew you to interactive fiction as a storytelling medium? Did you have any experience writing in other formats before, and if so, would you say there’s any differences in the way writing for IFs should be approached?

There’s so much about writing interactive fiction that I love, but I think the main one is the freedom that comes with it! There are so many ideas I can explore, so many endings and storylines. It’s just as fun for writers as it is for readers to push the limits of what their world and characters can do. You can truly sink your teeth into it and develop the story in ways you don’t see often. 

Coming from writing traditional fiction and having never written an interactive story before, I did need to change my mindset a little. You have to learn to be flexible. Very often, I’m writing routes I wouldn’t particularly take as a reader, and it’s interesting to go against my gut to offer a varied experience. I’ve discovered a lot of fun things about Infamous and its characters from routes I would never take if I were reading it in another IF!

2. What does your writing process look like?

I am a plotter to my core! I am endlessly envious of writers who can pants their way through a scene or a chapter. I need to outline every single beat, every scene, every conversation. The plot comes to me first and then I slowly build the main character around that and ask myself what kind of story I want to tell with that main character.

The MC in Infamous leans heavily into the ‘underdog’ trope. That’s how I got much of MC’s personality from. The main thing I ask myself when building the main character is: what do they have, what do they want, and what do they need? I use that to inform the rest of the cast and the stats. My main goal is that every piece works in tandem with the others. They all make sense in my head! 

3. What does good writing / good characters / good world-building etc. mean to you, and what are some central tenets or principles you follow to achieve that? 

A story that gets me invested is a success in my eyes. I want to care for the characters and feel like the world is one that truly exists somewhere. I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak. The characters had lives before the story started, people they knew and things they’ve experienced. It informs their personalities and builds them what they are once you meet them on page.

The world is still turning even while the main character is asleep. Things are still happening everywhere…even when we don’t see it. That’s how I try to approach every story to bring it to life. 

4. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to someone just starting out in interactive fiction?

Be firm! It’s so easy to get swept up in the excitement of having an audience and wanting to keep that audience. It’s not uncommon to make the mistake of overpromising to please every reader. You won’t be able to, trust me! You’ll only write yourself in a corner. It’s healthy to find a good balance between sticking to your gut and accepting/being open to suggestions. 

A tinier one but: know your endings! It’s best to know what you’re writing toward. It’ll be so much easier to stick to the story and avoid meandering through the plot if you know how each route ends. Everything I write is to get to that ending in one way or the other.

5. Where do you find your ideas or inspiration for new stories or mechanics?Where did your story idea originate? Has it strayed far from that concept/evolved during the writing process? 

I guess it’s quite on brand to say that almost every story idea I’ve had came from a song, Infamous included. My head is always thinking of songs as potential needle drops or playlists as movie soundtracks. Infamous in particular, was formed from Brie Larson’s cover of Black Sheep in the Scott Pilgrim movie. It features a Battle of the Bands sequence that made me want to read a story with the same concept. I scoured and scoured for a band IF that scratched that particular itch but didn’t find any. Eventually, I gave in and did it myself! That’s one of the best parts of the community; you can just do it. 

Surprisingly, this is one of the few stories of mine that hasn’t strayed far from the original idea. I think it helps that I’m writing exactly what I wanted to read once upon a time.

End of interview

—

A big thanks once again to Amy for her insightful answers, and @veswrites-if for taking the time to coordinate the interview. Hope that this was a fun and interesting read.

Stay tuned for more of these interviews :)

[cloudabserk]

a quick comic with some headcanons about what happened to armand’s art

[nightshadefairy]

[homosexual-work-account]

Someone get Christian Linke off the mic please im begging

[bookstofilms]

Jacob Anderson as Louis de Pointe du Lac INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2.01) “WHAT CAN THE DAMNED REALLY SAY TO THE DAMNED” Adapted from the series “The Vampire Chronicles” by Anne Rice

[thevampclaudia]

Backstage Pass

Rockstar Lestat de Lioncourt x Fem!Reader

Summary:

“Here,” you said, your voice so low it was almost a whisper, “Lie back and let me fix your makeup, baby.” Slowly, Lestat laid back on the couch, and you positioned yourself on top of him. Still straddling him, you leaned in close with makeup and brushes in hand. You looked down at him through eyes that were heavy-lidded with lust, and he returned your gaze with equally all-consuming need. Your lips were mere centimeters apart and you ached to close the distance, but not yet…no, the show must go on.” A short, smutty fic inspired by the revelation that Lestat was wearing a DRESS (!!!) in the IWTV season 3 promo.

Word count: 2,808

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ only, explicit sex, rough sex, teasing, biting/blood drinking, oral sex, marking, switch!Lestat, unprotected sex, crossdressing, using the Mind Gift during sex, some very mild degradation.

a/n: reader is afab but no description is provided; this is shamelessly inspired by this photo that has lived rent free in my fantasies for YEARS lmao

“Everything okay in there?” You asked, fidgeting nervously on the plush sofa in Lestat’s dressing room. He had gone into the bathroom to change - not like his usual exhibitionist self, you thought as you stifled a grin. At least 5 minutes had passed since he disappeared into the cramped bathroom, and you were beginning to worry just a bit. What worried you most, however, is that for five whole minutes, he had remained completely silent - even more out of character for your beloved silver-tongued exsanguinator.

“Lestat?” You called out as you rapped softly against the bathroom door. Just as you leaned closer to press your ear to the door, it swung open. You leapt back in surprise with a frightened shriek, playing it off with a shaky laugh. Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to collect yourself before turning to face him. “Shit, babe, you scared me-” When you turned, your breath caught in your throat, and your words escaped you - immediately washed away like the tide as you took in the glorious, libertine, fucking hot sight in front of you.

The statuesque blonde vampire stood haughtily in the doorway, looking you up and down. A knowing smile spread across the brat prince’s lips as he watched your cheeks flush just from the sight of him. He stepped closer to you, and you took your sweet time admiring him. You weren’t ashamed to stare, drinking in every intoxicating little detail.

He was all ready for the night’s show, but this time he was trying out a different look than usual. Lestat wore a long, black dress made of sheer fabric that hugged every curve of his perfect body. The dress was sleeveless with a low, plunging neckline that showed just enough of his bare chest to be deliciously obscene. As your gaze traveled down his form, you saw that the dress had two long slits running up each side. They exposed every inch of his sculpted thighs, and your eyes followed this tempting expanse of bare skin all the way back up over his hips, to where his well-defined Adonis belt peeked out from underneath his skirt.

Smoky black eyeliner rimmed his grey-blue eyes, giving them even more definition than usual. It was all too much for you to handle - this maenadic beast before you, commanding every ounce of your attention and holding all your desires right in the palm of his clawed hand. Lestat’s face darkened into a debauched, hungry smile, and he watched in predatory delight as you struggled to form a coherent thought. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and you almost hated him for it. Almost.

“How do I look?” He practically purred, slinking past you to lie on the couch with long, outstretched legs. You quickly sat beside him, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. Lestat reached out and instantly pulled you closer, placing one hand on your inner thigh with a low chuckle.

“You look fucking…amazing,” you breathed, and  reached up to run your fingers through his long, honey-blonde curls. He leaned into your touch, and you took this as an open invitation to trail your fingertips down his exposed chest. This earned you a heady sigh from him, and you took no small satisfaction in seeing him react to you so shamelessly. Usually he at least tried to feign disinterest for a little bit…after all, he loved a good cat-and-mouse chase. But this was different. His desire was palpable, and it charged the air between you with an irresistible electricity. And then you realized. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t just for you. He liked the outfit too.

“What do you think?” You asked, stroking his hair before groping his bare chest yet again, with more urgency this time. He groaned and let his eyelids flutter shut momentarily, exhaling shakily. “Look, baby,” you urged, tilting his chin up to admire himself in the dressing room mirror, “Look at how fucking pretty you look right now, Lestat.” He did as he was told, never one to turn down an opportunity to gaze at his own reflection. You smiled, enjoying the way he eye-fucked himself so openly. Something about it was always so strangely endearing. Suddenly, he gripped the back of your head roughly, tangling his fingers in your hair dragging you closer to him until your lips met in a frenzied kiss. You settled yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as he slipped his tongue between your parted lips. He pawed at you needily, palming your breasts and letting his hands roam over every inch of your curves. A small moan escaped your lips, and you broke the desperate kiss for just a moment to catch your breath. Lestat whined under his breath the moment you pulled away. When you looked back up at him, you saw both his lipstick and yours now mingled in ruddy smudges on his face and around his lips. You giggled fondly at the sight and smoothed his tousled hair - which he then proceeded to tousle even more - before tenderly wiping away the smudged lipstick from his face.

“Here,” you said, your voice so low it was almost a whisper, “Lie back and let me fix your makeup, baby.” Slowly, Lestat laid back on the couch, studying your every move in silent wonder. You positioned yourself on top of him, still straddling his hips, and you leaned in close with both makeup and brushes in hand. As you looked down at him through eyes that were heavy-lidded with lust, he returned your gaze with an expression of all-consuming need. Your lips were mere centimeters apart and you ached to close the distance, but not yet…no, the show must go on.

You grabbed a tube of rosy pink lipstick from his vanity table and leaned in close, softly dabbing it across his lips - all while never breaking eye contact with him. “Oh, this color is much better for your complexion, amoureux.” You murmured playfully, and he scoffed at you, rolling his eyes. You took his distraction as a chance to skate a free hand down the length of his chest, his torso, slipping under his skirt to cup his groin. He gasped, and you felt his swollen cock twitch.

You let out a delighted groan as you traced your finger along a thin elastic waistband, feeling the sheer fabric of a black lace thong. You caressed him greedily, and felt his bulge straining against the lace. The faintest whimper slipped past his open lips, and he bucked his hips against you. “Please, mon cher, I need you,” he panted, and you grinned as you felt him twitch again.

“But I just fixed your makeup.” You said matter-of-factly. The vampire rolled his eyes once more.

“Putain de merde,” he muttered impatiently, flipping you without warning and pinning you beneath him on the small sofa. You protested, but he quickly shut you up with another urgent kiss, his lips crashing against yours, claiming you. You caressed his hips and cupped his ass in your palms before digging your fingernails into the soft flesh. He whined as he began helplessly grinding against you, tugging at your lower lip between his teeth in frustration. Lestat bit down, drawing blood that he quickly lapped up with a primal, guttural moan. You kissed him again, tasting the traces of your blood on his tongue and shivering.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You tugged at the waistband of his thong, yanking it down his thighs and letting his throbbing, hard cock spring free. You gripped his shaft, stroking up and down his length slowly and running your thumb over the glistening head, smiling to yourself as you felt precum already dripping there. He gasped at the sensation, before grabbing you by your wrists and pinning them above your head with preternatural speed. 

You were completely at his mercy now – he reveled in every second of it. Lestat let out a low growl, and roughly spread your legs apart with his knee. He could already tell how wet you were, and his fangs dropped as he felt the growing heat of your arousal through the crotch of your panties. You blushed as he teased your clit through the damp cotton fabric, coaxing you to moan out his name. Slowly, he pulled your panties down and repositioned himself so his face was between your thighs, hovering eagerly just inches above your dripping cunt. He sighed softly, and you felt the heat of his breath ghosting over your swollen clit. You let out a low moan and reached out to stroke his hair, gently trying to bring him closer. Laughing smugly at your impatience, he leaned in to nuzzle against the thicket of dark curls between your legs, and groaned to himself as he inhaled deeply. “You smell so good, mon coeur, but I bet you taste even better…”

Sighing softly, you spread your legs wider to give Lestat easier access to where you needed him most. You felt the warmth of his breath grazing the bare skin of your thighs and whimpered, eager for more of his touch. Slowly, he pressed a trail of tender kisses along each of your inner thighs — pausing for just a moment to bite down, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. You felt a surge of pain coursing through you that quickly melted away into stinging pleasure that left you crying out for more. Lestat nuzzled against you again, unable to resist – he needed to taste you, needed to feel you come totally undone beneath the attentive ministrations of his skilled fingers and tongue. 

Finally, after a few moments of unbearable teasing, he got his mouth on you. Lestat’s tongue darted out to taste you, gently lapping at the wetness between your legs. You squirmed at the sensation, moaning loudly as he buried his face in you, desperate to taste every last drop of delicious, hot arousal. He teased you with his tongue before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking on it and letting out a low hum that sent a jolt of electricity straight through you. Lestat was relentless in his need to devour you. Every little sound of pleasure that slipped from your open, panting mouth, every buck of your hips and every desperate dig of your nails into his back only made him hunger for you more. 

Slowly, he dragged his tongue down, and you felt his nose nudge against your throbbing clit as he began lapping at your entrance. He groaned as he tasted you, burying his face deeper into you with reckless abandon. You felt Lestat’s tongue hungrily snaking between your soaked lips, spreading you open so he could push his tongue inside you and taste you straight from the source. You whined at the feeling of his tongue fucking into you, arching your back and chasing the sensation. He pressed into you deeper and deeper, gently stretching you open, and you gasped in pleasure as his nose rubbed against your clit with every curl of his tongue inside you. Since his mouth was preoccupied, Lestat used the mind gift to praise you, pressing silently into your thoughts. His words were warm and inviting, flooding your mind with pleasure that only intensified every sensation as he thrust his tongue deeper into your cunt. 

“You taste divine, mon amour. You’re so beautiful like this, letting me claim you and taste what’s mine…such a good girl for me, that’s it, just lie there and take it…so perfect…all mine…”

That praise was your undoing – a few more strokes of his tongue was all it took to leave you trembling and crying out in overwhelming ecstasy. You were practically vibrating beneath him, but he didn’t stop - instead, he went right back to lapping fervently at your sensitive clit. Reaching down, you gripped a fistful of Lestat’s hair as you rode out your orgasm, grinding against his tongue until you were too overstimulated to take anymore.

You sighed deeply, watching fondly as Lestat gazed up at you from between your legs. His lips and chin were glistening, soaked, and he kissed his way up your body to press his mouth against yours. You tasted yourself on him with a ragged groan as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeply. He stroked your hair, moving his hands down to cup your breasts and roam slowly over every inch of your curves. He took his time exploring and worshipping your body, reminding you of just how beautiful he found you with every kiss, bite, and reverent caress.

But Lestat was growing impatient. He slid one hand between your legs, rubbing your soaked pussy and using the wetness left on his fingers to slick up his aching cock. He gripped your hips hard enough to leave a mark, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped as he rubbed the head of his cock against your opening. Lestat held you close, finally entering you with one long, deep thrust. “Fuck!” You cried out, and you felt yourself stretching around him.

He nuzzled against the crook of your neck, teasing the sensitive skin there with little kisses and nips that he soothed with an eager tongue. He thrust into you slowly at first, savoring your warmth and wetness before gradually increasing his rhythm. As he pushed himself deeper into your aching cunt, you felt him moan against your neck. His fangs grazed your delicate skin, sending a sick thrill through your core. Suddenly, he bit down, nearly pushing you over the edge. He fucked you savagely, and the cramped room filled with a vulgar symphony of moans and obscenities. Lestat made an indecent slurping sound as he drank deeply of you, and it was almost too much to bear. When he had his fill, he lapped at the fresh bite mark with his tongue, long and torturously slow licks that threatened to push you over the edge. Your thighs began to tremble as you crept closer to the brink of another orgasm.

“That’s it, mon cher, give up that tough facade.” He goaded, with a sudden, deep thrust that made you throw your head back and scream. “I know what seeing me dressed like this does to you. I could see it all over your face,” Another achingly deep thrust, “I knew I could break you.” That was all it took. His words, his voice, his eyes on you…his hands holding you down so helplessly….that dress…and the way he rolled his hips into you, fucking you like he was determined to ruin you for anyone else. You came again, hard, crying out his name and quivering as wave after wave of bliss racked through your body until you were spent. He kept going, only slowing his pace slightly. In and out, in and out, again and again. He released his grip on your wrists, and you tangled one hand in his long hair, using the other to drag your fingernails down his back. You felt him shiver at the sensation, and he let out a long, low groan. You tightened your hold on his hair, and he buried his face in your neck. He breathed deeply, trying to muffle the needy whimpers that betrayed just how close to coming he was.

Lestat’s brow furrowed, and he swore under his breath as you clenched yourself around his cock. In and out, in and out, he tried to keep going, but it was too much - he was barely holding on. He clung on to your hips desperately, fucking harder and faster until finally, at the very last moment, he pulled his cock out of you with a profane, wet sound. Shamelessly, all while maintaining eye contact with you, he stroked himself to completion into the damp crotch of your panties.

“Keep these on for the entire show,” he growled in your ear, trailing kisses along the crook of your neck and across your jawline before gripping your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly at him, “And don’t you dare change, mon coeur. I’ll know.”

“SHOWTIME, MR. DE LIONCOURT!” You heard his stage manager yell from outside the dressing room. His makeup and hair were utterly wrecked; anyone who saw him would immediately guess what had just occurred in this cramped little room. You both laughed, and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before flashing you a devastating smile as he bounded out the door, making his way to the stage. “This isn’t over!” He called over his shoulder, always determined to have the last word. You took a moment to compose yourself, smoothing your hair and quickly fixing your makeup before running to take your seat in the audience just as the stage lights came up.

Read on Ao3 here.

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car au part 19

Previous. Masterpost

Out of all the days the past week, today was pretty good. He has an actual day off that he plans to use by getting to hang out with his little brothers. He hasn't spent time with Duke in a while. Maybe he should plan a brother bonding hour with him, then have lunch with Tim, take Damian to that one documentary about the ecosystem of Madagascar, and wrap up the day by dragging Jason back to the manor to have an impromptu kids dinner. Alfred might be convinced to make a pot of Mac and Cheese and hot dogs if he gives him some pictures he snuck of Tim and Damian ‘tolerating each other's presence’ while comparing lighting in a picture Tim took vs a painting Dami did of the same alleyway. Dick was proud of his little brother's artistic abilities. Even if they all use it to mock his fantastic skills at drawing stick figures. 

Dick was just about to open the cave door when it opened without his input and the Batmobile roared out, barely missing him. 

“Ooooh someone is going to get Grounded™.”

Dick sped into the cave and changed into his gear in record time, and followed where the Batmobile may have gone. It wasn't hard with all the daytime gothamites filming and excitedly talking about the Batmobile showing him where to go. He caught up soon after, making ‘wee-woo’ noises in his com to try to get whichever sibling in the car to respond. 

“ACAB!”

“Hood, please pull over.” Dick asked, voice full of affection and exasperation.

“Only if you ask Danny nicely N.” Duke laughed out.

“Ok? Danny, could you please pull over?” 

Dick was half deafened by the song ‘Fuck Tha Police’ over the coms before the Batmobile revved it's engine and went faster though Gotham.

“Well, Sugar Honey Iced Tea.”

Next

@kizzer55555 @sebas-nights @candeartist422 @trappednyourheart @fandom-life-corrupted-me @tkiesai @2lbballpeenhammer @admiralwidow @rewrittenwrongs @whotfevenknowsanymore @symmetricalastigmatism

@thespacedragons

@atinygracie @okami-love

@lesbian-spider-drone @1n0sss @forgetmenot-bluepurple @ehobep

[tavolgisvist]

It feels good to have a gig. If you’re just recording it’s very nice but you get a bit sterile. It’s a bit testtube, a bit like being in the laboratory. And if you go out and play, it’s the difference between sex and artificial insemination. Do you get what I mean? That’s what I think…audiences. It’s true enough, isn’t it?

(Paul McCartney, 1973, interview with Steven Rosen)

Add to this. Thank you, dear @gardenwalrus <3

[mirefireflies]

haven’t recovered from that scene yet btw and i don’t think i ever will. the way that when louis tells armand that he’s going to turn madeline and asks him to be there, he’s genuinely asking because he thinks it might be beautiful and he wants to share that moment with armand.. the way that armand can’t handle that intimacy and so he retreats into arun instinctively, “are you asking or making me” and then immediately regrets it .. louis physically pulling away and stepping back… when he takes armand’s hands off him, there’s a moment before he reaches back out where you can see him fall into that role for armand, even as he doesn’t want to.. like he was asking but armand’s answering question isn’t a question at all it’s just him saying that he needs louis to make him or he won’t go..the way that louis wanted this outside of the maitre/arun dynamic they’re developing but armand can’t allow himself to be intimate without falling back on that dynamic.. even when it’s just emotional intimacy that louis is asking for. theyre just so… and they both know it too, like the way that louis goes “okay” and the look on his face as he slips back into the role.. the way armand apologizes but it’s too late the line has already been drawn… most normal couple ever !! no unhealthy power dynamics or complex displays of intimacy over here !! they make me insane .

[interact-if]

Our second edition of the Black History Month Author Spotlight series features beloved author, C.C. Hill (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if)!

(CC is an absolute institution. What better way to celebrate Valentine’s than by doing a feature of the slice-of-life romance queen herself? CC is one the most inspiring, supportive IF writers out there, and it was a great honor to pick her brain! Read on for pandemic-setting feel good stories and Creole-based spells!)

Author: C.C. Hill

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Games: When Life Gives You Lemons (Slice-of-Life)

Synopsis: You play as an MC starting a new life in a small town called Lemon. It’s a story about self-discovery, love, and parenthood—a comfort story where the love interests want to sweep you off your feet.

Games: The Midnight Saga (Horror)

Synopsis: After finding yourself trapped in another dimension, you and your friends must fight for survival and defeat the monsters that lurk in the shadows. Make sure to grab a weapon as your quiet Halloween night turns into an out-of-this-world adventure!

Quote from the interview:

What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

I'm working on so many things it should be illegal for my brain to operate this way. But mainly, When Life Gives You Lemons. My plan is to focus on the final part in March, do some beta testing, and submit it to Hosted Games in April for my birthday month.

I'm also under contract with Heart’s Choice, writing Spices of the Heart, with hopes of completing it this year. On top of that, I’m working on publishing my first visual novel, The Wedding. It’s close to completion, and I have the third quarter of 2025 planned for publication.

I only started writing interactive fiction in 2020. When the pandemic hit, I needed something to keep my brain occupied, and five years later, I’ve published three games and still have a ton of projects in progress.What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My first game, The Midnight Saga, was heavily inspired by my background and where I'm from. The story itself is based on an old Haitian folklore about not staying outside after midnight—if you do, the Keeper of Midnight will eat you. I took that idea and built the characters around it.

I even managed to include some spells written in Haitian Creole. It was a lot of fun to write, and even though Book 2 is currently on hiatus, this story has a special place in my heart because it was my first game. The characters are a representation of my people and the struggles they’ve gone through. I’m really happy that it was my debut story.

What are some of the most rewarding or challenging aspects of writing Interactive Fiction for you?

For me, it’s branching and being able to write an MC and other characters in a way that readers can truly connect with. Lately, I’ve been writing a lot of feel-good romance and slice-of-life stories, and I’m starting to feel like this is my comfort zone—and I want to stay here forever.

I never want to create a romance option that is inherently bad or purposely deceitful. My biggest challenge is writing characters who are flawed and complex—where readers can love them or hate them—but making sure they aren’t just villains for the sake of it. They’re simply existing in the world they were created in.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

My writing process is a mess. My brain gets pulled in so many directions. When I get an idea, I have to code it, shape it, and give it life—otherwise, it’s going to bug me forever. That’s why I end up with so many WIPs. I need to see them through, at least to a short demo, to see if they make sense.

My desk is also full of notes, and I basically write on anything—pieces of napkins, tissue boxes, whatever is nearby. One weird habit I have is that some of the best changes I’ve made to my games, those "spark" moments, happen when I’m in the shower. It’s weird and strange, but it works.

What’re you excited to tackle/implement/work on next? Or anything you’re looking forward to in the year ahead?

Keep writing romance and feel-good slice-of-life stories. Get When Life Gives You Lemons published this year. Focus on doing this full-time. Publish my visual novel.

Overall, just stay busy and be productive.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

To the readers—us authors don’t have all the answers. Sometimes, we start writing a story and end up forgetting certain plots or characters, which is easy to do when writing interactive fiction. So yes, we often write ourselves into a corner and just put a period there so the story can progress.

To the authors—write stories you love, something you would want to read. It makes it easier to keep going because if it’s a story you love, you’ll want to see how it ends, and that will push you to persevere.

This-or-that segment: (red = CC's pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

Angsty or Cozy romances?  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

[underpreparedbard]

GUYS

[furaill]

Read from right to left :)

[books-for-humanity-global]

Have you ever wondered what a ghost might say if it could write a poem? Discover how LindaAnn LoSchiavo channels unseen voices through verse in this full interview.