As the seasons cycle into longer evenings, it’s become easier to curl up into my writing caves (real and metaphorical). I was reminded of the video game that inspired my first novel. Although I am rewriting the novel now (and it has pretty much nothing to do with the game), the game Golden Sun, developed by Camelot and published by Nintendo, made a huge impact on my preference for fantasy literature.

As a kid, I was a staunch historical fiction fan (still am), but Golden Sun was such a gorgeous video game ahead of its time that introduced me to role playing games with turn-based combat mechanics. It rocketed my literary preferences to fantasy, and I hungrily consumed books that fulfilled my desires for wonder, magic, and adventures that seemed impossible from the desk of a middle school classroom.

Interestingly enough, I’ve lost much of my fervor for video games after leaving the confines of my bedroom and actually interacting with the world that exists.

It’s easy to wish we are swashbuckling heathens, or a ragtag band of heroes when pixels conceal the beauty of the planet; our heartbeats run strong when a genuine sense of community is built among other people. Golden Sun was the simulator of that desire for me: travel, magic, and community… the sense that we are destined for great things.

However, do we really want a destiny? Having a destiny, I believe, revokes autonomy. I, for one, appreciate the wonder that the game infused, but will it ever compare to reaching the top of a mountain peak? Or the beauty of a lake’s mirror? Or the color of a treasured mushroom or flower?