The Road to Guildies: Coda

For the entirety of WRITING 220, we had to take an origin piece, AKA any piece of writing we had done in our lives, and recontextualize it in a different genre or mode. For example, a tweet can become a movie poster or personal essay. This is meant to serve as an introduction to the themes of flexibility and exploration in the writing minor. We each did two experimental trials with our chosen piece and then selected an experiment to refine and expand.

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My origin piece was a tacked on, portfolio version of a shitpost I added to a worldbuilding project for an earlier class. I had spent so much time refining that world, figuring out relationships between the various power systems, drawing art and pouring much effort into serious worldbuilding in general. And at the last minute, I had thought, ‘hey, what would a zombie apocalypse be like in that world?’ and wrote a jokey Resident Evil-based game mockup word doc. The zombies were computer virus-based, there were subplots that led nowhere, I lost track of what I was doing several times. In short, anyone could tell I wrote my origin piece while streaming Critical Role with my friends at an ungodly hour of the night. Fast forwards a semester later, and for some reason I can’t recall, I chose that goofy game concept as the progenitor of everything I did for WRITING 220. 

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Oh boy, what a journey this low-effort joke piece took me on. It got dark too.

My first experiment was to write a screenplay set in the world of my game. I transplanted some characters from my original writing and got to work mocking up some concepts and scenes. I got into screenwriting when I took a class on it in high school. I had no idea what it was when I entered that class, but I left it with a deep and profound love of the medium. I enjoy its simplicity and straightforwardness. I can write things like, “a fight happens” and move on.

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I decided at first to write my screenplay or hypothetical movie for a Gen Z audience because they seem the type to appreciate the goofiness inherent in technology-based zombies who drool green drool and shamble around. The zombies can also infect someone and trap them in a prison of their own consciousness, forever doomed to walk and bite even when their heart stops beating, all the way until their legs rot off. Fun. As I said, this got dark. I realized that when I wrote the first scene establishing the zombie mechanics. I ended up pushing aside the camp and humor aspects and played the zombies completely straight in this first piece.

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In my second experiment, I wrote a Dungeons and Dragons Fifth Edition gameplay module set in my zombie world. I love DnD. I was first introduced to it at the start of Freshman year when I joined a random group playing board games in a dorm. They extended an offer to join a campaign, and I was thrown headfirst into a world of fun, excitement, and cursing at dice. I wanted to apply the same sense of scope and freedom to my origin piece, and thus my new adventure began.

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It was hard. A module is on opposite ends with a screenplay. A screenplay is about tight plotting and the excision of miscellaneous details. In a DnD campaign, there is no planned plot, and the writer can’t even decide the main characters, just the side ones. A module is intended to be a side piece in a collaborative story, where miscellaneous details can be the entire plot if the players should choose to desire. I worked hard to keep the world open, rather than railroad potential players into a forced plot. There was also the DnD mechanics to consider, like which roll meant how many zombies, and that got tiring fast. I did learn a lot about what goes into roleplaying game design, and that was nice.

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I chose to expand my first experiment’s scenes into a movie screenplay for my fully realized project. I also realized I need to bring back the goofiness and camp of my origin piece in it. Not to detract from the potential seriousness, but to elevate it. My intended audience of Gen Z seems to thrive on absurdism. They laugh in face of how unjust the world is because crying would be a dang bummer. In fact, humor can be used to tell the most gripping stories. I love movies that make me laugh and forget the world. I love movies that make me think and examine the world. I don’t see why those two things must be mutually exclusive. Even the most unhinged midnight ramblings can say powerful things about hurting the ones you love, can make you explore the most clashing mediums, can make you find jewels from junk.  

What do the zombies represent? Everything and nothing, all at once.