Creative influences: Fighting Fantasy
Growing up in the 1980’s was an awe-inspiring time. I was a child of the Star Wars generation: fantastic stories of heroism, imagination and hope were all the rage. I also grew up with parents that loved old movies, classic stories, music and games, which when I look back was a blessed and thrilling childhood to have experienced!
I was already an avid book reader when I discovered Choose Your Own Adventure books in 3rd grade. The very first book, The Cave of Time by Edward Packard, blew my mind. For the first time, after taking in a scene of the story (with me as the protagonist), I could make a personal choice of how I wanted a story to unfold. Although it was often just the two branches of narrative to choose from, that simple ownership of deciding how I could decide on the paths teh sotry would take was exciting and empowering. I later enjoyed moments of celebration in the consequences of certain story choices, and other times was shocked when things turned out the worse. In both cases, learning from choice was gold. Finishing the story, I came to another realisation: Reading it through the first time was definitely a blast, but being able to read through and choose all new paths of adventure took the enjoyment of this experience to a whole other level! Needless to say, I was hooked, and read through as many of the books as the library & local shops could provide.
I was introduced to The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkein around the same time. So much appeal for me: a very easy read, it had exploration at its heart, a great sense of humour, and someone being taken out of a comfortable everyday existence and being plunged into the beauty, challenges, dangers and magic of the wider world. Let’s say for me this was a very welcome narrative in my youth. What surprised me were new points of narrative, especially the philosophical disagreements between the main characters and the emotions that resulted from them. This opened my eyes to how egos can get in the way of teamwork and friendship, and create more dramas for the characters than helping to solve the urgent issues right in front of them. Spoiler alert: I was heart-broken and not a little surprised by the deaths towards the end of the story, not expecting main characters to meet their end this way, but looking back I see how it introduced the fragility of life and value of friendship above all things, and the value of reflection and importance of the change that experiences bring to our lives. I found that I missed these characters at the end of this story, especially the wise and kind mentor Gandalf, the loyal friend and warrior Balin, and the surprisingly adventurous Bilbo.
Years later, it was a delight to read the mammoth sequel, The Lord of the Rings, in 6th grade: in addition to being exposed to a greater maturity in the language, style and narrative possibilities of storytelling, I also found whole new worlds of characters, stories ideas, hope and imagination to explore. It was a combination of two of these passions - Lord of the Rings style fantasy stories and Choose Your Own Adventure - that changed my life forever. These, along with films and TV stories of the eighties and earlier, definitely shaped my love of role-playing games, and the art of creating stories. But before role-playing games, the combination of fantasy stories and branching narratives appeared through something called Fighting Fantasy.
Fighting Fantasy appeared in our library bookshelves when I was in Grade 4, and I’d heard about it from one of my school friends as “Choose Your Own Adventure - but even BETTER!”
Reading the first book, The Warlock of Firetop Mountain, by the creators of the system and series Steve Jackson and Ian Livingstone, was like no other story experience I’d known. The authors indicated they were influenced by Dungeons and Dragons role and other-playing games that were emerging at the time, but wanted to provide an opportunity for solo play when you couldn’t get together with your friends. I had no idea about Dungeons and Dragons at the time: all I knew was when I read this, I was hooked.
Not only was the story line enticing - an adventurer diving into a cave complex riddled with dangers to confront the evil wizard at its end - but there were puzzles to solve along the way, a maddening maze of passages to try and get through, plus the only way to get to the treasure at the end was to have a set of three keys that correctly matched up - and there were nearly a dozen keys you could find in the dungeon, so which ones were correct?
To wrap it all up, the near endless possibilities of trying to get to the end was what made re-readability so much fun. For example, heading left at this first T-junction of the dungeon got me into a battle for my life the first time I read this, but what if I go right on the next run through?
As I read many more of Fighting Fantasy’s adventures, I came to see the difference between plot and narrative. Plot was the easiest to understand, being about the types of options you can take, and learning the structure of the story (which paths to take, the puzzles to solve, the items to collect, the people to meet, in order to find the most “successful” path through the game). This was a fun puzzle in itself to unravel with each story, but I discovered once I worked it out, this lost my interest. What became more appealing for me very quickly was Narrative: the combination of the stories of the characters; the mysteries behind the strange, frightening or amazing actions they took; and gaining that greater understanding of the world in the stories “between the lines” of the story. Really, what was the “why” of the story, what meaning or truths the author was sharing - wittingly or not - through the medium of this story.
Over time, the most interesting Fighting Fantasy books for me were no longer the ones about getting the most magical items in the right order to “win” the adventure. I became much more interested in the side stories and amazing array of characters met along the way, and if the pulling together of a story lead to a satisfying conclusion fo the narrative. I started to understand the adage, “It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” (Thank you to celebrated fantasy author Ursula K. Le Guin for articulating this truth.) I truly became more interested in the diversity of stories, perspectives, lives in these worlds, than the ending.
Fighting Fantasy’s books were episodic, one-off adventures, ranging from exploring trap-ridden dungeons, dark forests, dangerous wizard’s citadels, and nefarious port cities. So my imagination and heart leaped with joy when I discovered the Sorcery! series, a quartet of Fighting Fantasy books that had a linked storyline. This was a beautifully designed narrative stretching over four books, about a hero of a kingdom on a mission, travelling into dangerous lands beyond the borders to retrieve the stolen Crown of Kings from the evil archmage. Each book was playable on its own, but the real fun was trying to complete the entire epic from start to finish. I know there’s a complete post in itself I can write about Sorcery! and the influences that had on me, which I’ll save for another time!
It’s been great for me to identify so many influences that Fighting Fantasy books had for me, and how they helped me discover what was important to me and my perspective of the world:
My love of imaginative and engaging stories and characters
My love of exploration and journeys
The thrill I got from trying to work out the “why” behind a story
The opportunity of choice when crafting a story for personal connection for the audience
The value of consequences for characters, so their choices have stakes and meaning
That seeing/listening to a diversity of perspectives / characters makes stories more appealing to me
The value and joy of team work through a diversity of people / perspectives / skills / talents, and the disaster that egos can have on teamwork
Watching characters grow through choice, success and failure is why we connect with them
Epic narrative structure - series of connected stories in a narrative - is hugely appealing
My love of narrative pay-offs: where an object, character, or choice brought into a story - and often seemingly of little value to many - ends up paying off in a big way down the track, directly because of its less obvious values.
My love of art in all its forms.
I’d love to read what influences from your own childhood have shaped your life and helped you understand your own perspective of the world. Feel free to share your influences below!
Ian.