In writing Dead Space: Martyr I set out to answer the questions that hadn’t been answered by the game or the motion comics or the graphic novel. Dead Space is a window on a great consistent world, and it was a world I wanted to be part of. But I’d spent so much time loving being immersed in the game that it seemed completely natural. If someone would have told me even a few years ago that I’d write a novel based on a video game, I probably would have laughed.

Not to mention liking how the necromorphs are humans that have been twisted into monsters, and enjoying the variety of violent deaths just waiting for Isaac, and being sometimes frightened enough to find myself physically dodging the screen during gameplay.Īll this made me jump at the chance to write Dead Space: Martyr.

I loved being slowly exposed to the cult-like aspects of Unitology and I was crazy for the vision of a society on the verge of ecological collapse. I loved the flickering lighting, the grungy industrial feeling of the world of the USG Ishimura, the deep-seated twistedness that infects every level of the game design. From the moment I started to play, I was hooked. But I also like games and books that don’t solve everything for you, that make you feel like the world goes on well beyond them, that there are other stories just waiting to be told.ĭead Space was a game like that for me. What I like as both a reader and as a gamer are books and games that are constructed with such attention to detail that you really feel the satisfaction of living inside them. I read in something like the same way: I like when I read to fall into another world and stay immersed in it, swimming around in it, only rarely coming up for air. I’m all too capable of sitting down at the computer at ten at night and only realizing that I’ve been playing for eight hours once I see the sun start to come up. As my girlfriend knows all too well, I’m an unapologetic gamer.

Dead space like books