Inner Worlds X: Emily Meller, the writer who started it all
On beauty, fiction, and meeting yourself in a parallel world
What would bring closure to Inner Worlds? I kept asking myself that as I was putting the series together, until it just dawned on me. It should end exactly where it started: with Emily Meller. It’s her essay about Space Engine that planted a seed in my head months ago. This seed has grown into a search for answers about imagined worlds and it seemed only natural that I should talk to Emily, even though I didn’t know anything about her prior to that.
Only after she replied to my email I realized I wasn’t sure what to ask her about. And as much as awkward silence is the part of conversation I excel at, it doesn’t work for interviews. But I lucked out, because a bit of research revealed to me an excellent writer whose brain I was curious to pick — both about creating worlds and about visiting the ones created by other people.
The transcript of my conversation with Emily brings Inner Worlds to an end. Thanks for sticking around!
Wojtek Borowicz: How did you come across Space Engine?
Emily Meller: My friend Michael told me about it and it sparked my interest. A self-generating universe is such a beautiful concept, I haven’t seen anything like that before. I also liked the idea of a game where there is no goal or an end result — it’s just about being in an environment and exploring.
You call Space Engine a game. I asked its creator about this and he wasn’t sure whether it actually is one. What do you think makes it a game?
When I was talking to him he also didn’t call it a game and I understand why it’s not accurate. But honestly, I think it’s just how it was introduced to me by Michael. We talked about playing Space Engine. And I guess exploration can be a game even if it doesn’t fit the strict sense of the word.
So, how does it feel to travel across an algorithmic universe?
It’s very strange. I was wobbly at first, zooming in one direction and flying in another as I was trying to figure out how to explore in a more methodical way. Then I found it quite… hypnotic, I suppose that’s the correct word. There is a strange beauty about finding a weird planet with three moons that makes you just stare at it for a while. The music helps as well, the soundtrack is excellent.
The immersion in Space Engine was relaxing. I felt really calmed by it and I didn’t expect it at all. That’s what my friend told me as well. After a stressful day, he would spend two hours just floating around this simulated universe.
Do you still play it?
Not as much anymore. I did it too fast, too soon, because I played a lot as research for my essay. But at the time I was writing it, I also used Space Engine to unwind from work, so it became integrated into my life in a strange way.
You’re a writer and writers usually build worlds specifically to tell stories in them. Doesn’t Space Engine — an enormous world without any story to tell — feel strange to a writer?
It’s beautiful. I love the idea of being able to set up a world and just letting your audience into it. I think many writers, especially in science fiction, would do that if they could. I wish there was — and I’m sure there soon will be — a way to introduce that to a relationship between the reader and writer. After all, that’s what gaming is about. Video game writers set up worlds and write meticulous storylines, but then it’s up to the player to weave them together.
Would you like to experiment with game writing or interactive stories yourself?
It would be interesting to try, but I’m not sure I would pull it off very well.
I’ve read some of your articles as research for this interview. In one book review you turned your jealousy of a character into the theme of the article. Do you often get so emotionally invested in fictional worlds?
Absolutely! That’s the point of fictional universes in the first place. I see them equally as a method of escaping real life and learning how to live here. I can read something and that will change how I behave. In that case, my jealousy of a fictional character made me reflect on my behavior and change it in a lot of ways. Also, when I really love a book and am about to finish, there is a sense of loss because I need to get out of its world. It’s more of a problem to me when I don’t feel like that about a book.
That’s the role of fiction in my life. It blurs the boundaries with reality. It may not be healthy, but it’s pretty normal to get emotionally invested in fictional characters and fictional worlds.
Escapism is a theme that came up a lot in these interviews. You say it’s normal, but not necessarily healthy. So… is it good? Bad? Both?
Like anything, it’s good to an extent. As much as fiction is an escape, I’m drawn to worlds which meaningfully reflect my own life. That feels less like escaping and more like learning.
One thing that’s special about books is that they’re engaging. If I want to block stuff out, I’m much more likely to just watch television for a couple of hours. Escaping into the world of a novel and spending the whole weekend reading doesn’t feel as self-destructive as spending six or seven hours in front of a TV.
Why do people escape reality? Are we not satisfied with the real world? Or is it our need to explore?
It’s different for everyone. I’m not even sure about the word escapism. Some people genuinely need to escape because they’re not satisfied with their lives, but I don’t think going to a fictional world to completely block out reality ever happens. It’s always based on real, tangible events and can be really useful to reflect and change our behavior. But I’m sure every person will have a different experience with using fiction that way.
If you could build a new universe, what would it be like? What would you transfer over from our world, what would you leave behind?
Oh man, I don’t know! When I go into other people’s minds it always feels like a different universe, even if a lot of things overlap. The world I see is a different version of the universe that other people see and that’s what I’d be comfortable sharing.
And obviously, Trump not being president.
Do you believe in parallel universes? Would you like to meet yourself from a parallel world?
I so deeply want to believe in parallel universes just because it’s such a gorgeous metaphor. But I don’t think I would really want to meet myself. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the show Rick and Morty, but there’s an episode where Morty reflects on the idea that he has to replace a version of himself that has died in another reality. When he sees his own dead body, he has an existential crisis, because if he can just go and replace himself and no one will notice, what will that mean about his individualism?
If I met another me, maybe I would realize something I wouldn’t want to? That’s really scary. It would be certainly be interesting but also very narcissistic and unnerving.
And probably kind of awkward…
I would probably make some terrible jokes, like normal. And then the other me would also make terrible jokes and we would be just standing there, realizing we know each other too well.
Liked that? Read other conversations about imagined universes at Inner Worlds.
