ThomasLaHomme, The Wordsmith

Member Since

12/5/2017

Last Activity

2/1/2024 6:58 PM

EXP Points

218

Post Count

386

Storygame Count

2

Duel Stats

0 wins / 1 loss

Order

Architect

Commendations

171

Hi, my name is Thomas La Homme. I'm a veteran of two Industrial bands. I'm also a poet.  I grew up with the old Choose Your Own Adventure and Endless Quest books in the 80's and have always been fascinated with the old text-based computer games like Zork.

My background has been in writing fiction, so my point of attack when writing story-games is always with an emphasis on the story. I feel that interactive fiction is a valued art form that can be viewed as a subgenre of experimental fiction. Since mainstream writers are likely to take this format and do something skull-crushingly boring, I see this as an opportunity to expand the form of "genre fiction". Whether of not what I write is any good is up for debate. Writing is always a learning process, so hopefully I'm getting better as time goes by.

Let me know what you think. 

 

Trophies Earned

Earning 100 Points Having 1 Storygame(s) Featured

Storygames

Featured Story Aphrodite's Orphan

A teenage girl living on a Venus out of 1930's Pulp Science Fiction must search the planet and other worlds with her robot tutor to find the killers of her parents.

This is done in the format of an Interactive Novel, so it's pretty far removed from the standard Dungeon Crawl format. This is more reminiscent of the old CYOA books of the 80's and 90's, particularly T.S.R. Hobbies' Endless Quest Books. The characters have arcs which will be determined by the decisions you make.

Because this is set in an outdated version of the solar system, I consider this to be more a work of Fantasy than Science Fiction. Think Science Fantasy.

Also, there are elements of Hard Boiled Detective fiction and Film Noir. Like if Raymond Chandler or James M. Cain wrote about Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon.           

 


The Dolls' Quest

Two sentient dolls who remember previous lives as a prince and princess in another universe, go on a perilous quest across the United States to learn more of their origins. My first storygame so any constructive criticism is welcome. Now with 30% fewer typos! Thanks to Mizal for editing advice. 

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Time and the Twin Cities
unpublished

A young man's coming of age as he navigates an underground fairy city where time runs slower and his hometown as it evolves into a metropolis over the centuries.


Recent Posts

Graphics for Aphrodite's Orphan on 1/21/2024 9:13:46 AM

It does look pretty cool.


Graphics for Aphrodite's Orphan on 1/20/2024 9:16:55 AM

Here's another one. The AI messed up her robot, Esmeralda and made her into a giant Mech.  Sandra Acosta-- Aphrodite's Orphan  


Graphics for Aphrodite's Orphan on 1/19/2024 9:29:52 PM

Hi, I've been playing around with the Night Cafe AI Art Generator and have come up some images for my storygame "Aphrodite's Orphan". Here's Sandra Acosta in the flesh. Like Wednesday Adams with Betty Davis eyes. Still don't know how to add it to my storygame. Sandra Acosta Second Portrait


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/12/2023 12:02:24 AM

I really appreciate that, mizal. Hope all is well with you and yours in your part of Texas.


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/10/2023 9:44:58 PM

Thanks, mizal. I'll try to fix it.


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/9/2023 3:36:32 PM

Gower, thank you so much for your review. I appreciate your use of your poetry background in assessing my work.


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/9/2023 3:34:38 PM

Thanks, corgi213!


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/7/2023 1:40:02 PM

Thanks, Mizal. I'm glad you liked it. And thanks to Endmaster for commending the poem. The story is the third in the adventures of Syndeeka, Warrior-Astronomer.

 


New Poem for Your Perusal on 10/6/2023 1:40:59 PM

Hi, guys. It's been a while. I've been spending the past year working on a Fantasy novel. Here's a poem from that novel that explains one of the antagonist's motivations. Hope you like it. :) 

Lamentation from Silent Sepulchral Depths

High sun 

and low sun

and all the suns between.

Her father fished the sea with a wide net.

Her mother was strung on a string

and carried into the sky.

And the fisherman’s daughter danced

on the stones on the shore at high-tide.

Her jewelry was made of shells she’d string

on an old fishing line.

High-tide.

Low-tide.

The tide rolls in

and the tide rolls out.

And there is the undertow.

And dancing on the rocks along the shore

at high-tide,

she could sometimes reach down

and retrieve a pearl-bearing friend from the waters.

She never found an oyster with a perfect pearl,

but she always loved

her mother of pearl.

And the motherless daughter danced with

Mother of pearl

shifting on old fisherman’s line.

She danced strung on a string and shifted

like a marionette.

She was caught in the wide net

and pulled from the sea.

Pulled through the burnt smoke smell

of village markets.

Pulled across the paved

stone highways that

cut through the hills,

cut through pastureland,

cut through child dreams.

Pulled through palatial valleys

of marble and glass and gold

to be strung on a string

and dance for a Deified Despot--

cold masked cutthroat and king to kings.

And her dancing eyes

played on a boy blighted with a malformed frame.

And she gifted the blighted boy pearls of kindness

and the soft sighs of the sea from

shells collected in child days.

And she gifted the blighted boy

wet tears of a kind heart

for the singed fingers that opened arcane scrolls

to read her epic poems of a past people.

And the Deified Despot

(cold masked cutthroat and king to kings)

coveted her visionary form

and hungered for her soft-hewn limbs

and took her down deep in the undertow.

High-tide

Low-tide

and all the lifeless beauties that wash ashore.

She was strung on a string for all to see.

And the boy of malformed frame

wept with salty waters from the sea.

Wept and lamented the death of love and of dancing forms.

Wept and was carved and consumed in flame and cast aside

to die the spirit’s endless death.

High sun and

and low sun

and all the suns between.

Between high sun and

low,

when crimson petals open

and frost melts to dew

and blood rises

the High Tide comes

to drag down cold masked cutthroats

in the Endless Undertow.


Bloody Pain and Misery of the Booksie Writing Site on 4/26/2023 12:17:52 PM

Mizal, I'm not sure if it's a scam, but there apparently is a lot of bias and favoritism on the site. Be that as it may, I'm just trying to get my work out there in the public sphere so people can read it. I hope you've been doing well.