I was bitten by the fountain pen bug about a year ago, but these days I’ve rediscovered them as an extra source of dopamine that helps me to keep going. Whenever I feel the urge to utter a statement on current affairs other than “fuck terrorists”, I head to Aliexpress and get on frolicking in the world of inexpensive Japanese and Chinese models: extra fine-broad-fude-resin-pump action-demonstrator-the subtle difference between the Japanese and European nib sizes. So don’t act surprised if one day this newsletter gets a fountain pen neophyte special. And fuck terrorists.
Now the book update: I want to expand a bit on my main tool for both "traditional" and interactive storytelling — the hero journey circle.
Oh wait, that old one? With the white-male-self-centered-saviour? Aren’t we tired of it in almost 2024?
Last time I checked most of my main characters were women or non-binary/genderfluid. Maybe my circle contains enough Lycra to fit all shapes, sizes and genders. It's not actually mine: I prefer Dan Harmon's version which feels rather modern and sleek compared to other ones, starting with Campbell, and we've been developing our own with my writing partner Anton Outkine, based on Perls' 5 layers of the neurotic personality.
Whichever flavour you prefer (or prefer to hate), the circle just works. It’s rooted in the stages of human social adaptation: there’s a fresh goal pulling you from the familiar world, your old habits faltering along the way, then learning and growing (or you die, because you're a Cro-Magnon hunting a mammoth that turned out to be especially nasty that day and you haven't figured out how to outsmart it). This is how our memory organises meaningful experiences, helping us to survive.
I use it as a framework for almost anything, from creating a playable character to designing a campaign narrative: What represents the "familiar world" for everyone involved? What goals drive each party, and what price would they pay to win? In emergent narrative, the hero's journey helps me create the circumstances for the player (our main character) to act in.
Here’s an example of how I use the circle even for campaigns: there’s a top-level plot for each side of the conflict that describes the conditions of a mission (a battle, a heist, you name it). Then I can build each team or character’s individual storyline into those circumstances.

This circle is my go-to for answering the question: "What are we following here?". Enhanced by the player's agency in games and other interactive stories, this question is even more relevant. Playing a game requires more investment than watching a film, so I should be careful to keep my player rewarded with the engaging narrative.
It’s also effective for multiple protagonists and ensemble casts too. Each important character embarks on their own journey, and sometimes there are bigger arcs that weave together smaller-scale ones. Even your hero’s favourite mug can have its own journey if you want it. On the topic of complex narratives, I can't recommend enough Linda Aronson's "The 21st Century Screenplay": she delves into diverse methods for crafting complex parallel or multiple protagonist narratives, ensuring each hero gets enough love to stand out among the rest.
If you (I hope!) been missing my posts on Twitter since its xittification, head to Bluesky (I have 2 invites to spare) and let’s be friends there! This is my favourite social network these days, while I’m also trying to photoblog at Threads (still hate its compression tho).
In other news:
Idoru Loop, a beautiful letter by Stoya, my co-beogradjanka;
Bela Reka — the place you want to visit in Belgrade to taste their fantastic take on Serbian cuisine.
This is pure genius: