the one I always identify with in a high magic world
is the non magical one
standing there surrounded by demons and trying to survive on wits alone
with like a tenth the average character points around here.
The disabled one.
So I have plenty of stories ready to go anout how one acquires superpowers or magic or whatever
but I'm not really feeling them.
Because I know what I'd be.
It's the write what you know problem.
I keep on seeking out stories about middle age people who have their lives kick off epic in sudden unexpected ways
(this involves reading a lot of fanfic slightly sideways, and often, finding stuff that is not about the main characters)
because 39 and with one college degree to my name is... a place to start, if I figure out where to go from here, but it's not a place so likely to find a story about already
but then if I sit down and go, okay, like me but with an Adventure ahead of them...
I just kind of sigh and figure
no adventures here, same like always.
I could set it up so reading the local equivalent of fantasy books is suddenly helpful
and being genre savvy is a superpower
but then I'd trip them up because it's far more likely they'd be wrong genre savvy
and then everything goes horribly wrong
though watching someone deal with alien first contact by fae rules can work.
I just get depressed and then my plots are depressing.
Even when it's redeeming the monster by true love I tend to get unwanted realism and they end up in an abusive marriage instead because he's still a bastard.
I mean my daydreams need to steer better.
This blergh brought to you by an afternoon accidentally asleep and dreaming traps and hells and being stuck in a bathroom where time goes so much slower by the point you've found the loo roll the rest of the adventure party has wandered off and probably won already.
Like, thanks subconscious, I know, actually, thanks a lot.
xposted from Dreamwidth here. comments. Reply there