A sort of humility perhaps with a trace of something that's perhaps the extreme opposite. But on both accounts my words fall short.

My stepfather had no toys growing up and instead found some rocks which he cherished. I had grown up playing with matchbox cars. More humble still, to play with nothing at all but your mind and a pen/word processor. To just dream, and write the dreams down. What more humble endeavor to pass your free time could there be?

It is a sort of giving up on the grand party, or a sad understanding that there is no happiness greater than what one can do simply within one's own mind, safely away from the unpredictability of others. And, the predictability of eventual ugliness from them. A greater happiness than any other, and yet the most humble sort of play.

Writing down your daydreams. And no dreams of getting published. No dreams of fame intermixed. Just right at that moment the enjoyment of whatever daydreams.

And, at the same time, a strange mystical belief that by writing them down and making them more concrete (even if no one else ever reads them) you make them in some way real. A belief that there are gods/infinities of life and if it's dreamed it will Be somewhere someday. Like I once believed that all the worlds of Jack Vance MUST be real, somewhere, someday, somehow. That simply by writing them down they became real.

Such a belief is anything but humble. It is mystical and nuts. But it is somewhat back in the distance. This godlike belief. But I've heard it said--not put quite put so clearly--by others. Famous writers, some musicians..

This latter belief is far back though. Dangerous maybe to think on it too directly. Might shatter it into absurdity. Very dangerous. But on the other hand, may wake up in 5 weeks with no idea why for a short time I had been able to write without trying to use futile willpower. Instead enjoying it right NOW. As one should do, or shouldn't bother at all.

The humility of just dreaming and the immediate enjoyment of so doing is at the front. Is it alone enough though without that other bit?

I shall not think about it.

Plot, characters, setting.

Wanted a fantasy setting. And pretty realistic charaters. And plot hardly matters. Any old plot should do. Just take someone else's, more or less. Had long ago thought of writing 5 stories which each had the same plot but yet, were completely utterly different, but that's probably taking the idea too extreme and belies my actual writing ignorance, maybe.

But anyway, on characters and setting, why would I want such escapism combined with such realism? And furthermore, characters in captivating fiction are almost always fantasy. But for it to not just be meaningless they have to have something real about them. Art is the lie which brings us closer to the truth. The dialogue, the characters in general, a lie which is not irrelevant to the real world, a lie which brings us closer to the truth.

Generally though, characters in successful (popular) books are irrelevant to reality. The more relevant they get, the more reading the work is usually just a chore.

Part of what's so great about cats is that they don't speak, thus there is an unknown, a mystery, a something that we can fill with good things, I think. But maybe not. But anyway, this is to say that love of cats is tied into love of magic. Because that's what the unknown is, the benevolent unknown anyway, which a cuddly cat is, cuddly thus benevolent, mostly mute and thus forever unknown. It's the suggestion of magic.

Never use the word 'magic' or 'mystery' in fantasy fiction. In general don't spell things out so clearly. Realizing that you're baldly contemplating magic can ruin the enjoyment of such contemplations.

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I hate dialogue. But worse I hate when characters first meet. There is virtually no realistic real life correlary. Read world first meetings are virtually always (99.99%) way too boring to ever read about. The alternative is that it just can't be realistic. So then, usually, characters have already met. And such first meeting is not written about.

...And if it's a story of a person going to another world where he doesn't know anyone....? Then what, he just forever wanders in isolation?

First meetings just can't be very realistic, I guess. Although this is problematic, I want a sort of extreme realism with regards to piercing the obscurity of the minute processes of human life, yet still want it to be entertaining and... bearable. Realistic first meetings... don't bother with the dialogue... just sum up what's actually going on perhaps...

Finally, to be realistic: We go through life almost completely alone. In decades we accumulate a few real friends and otherwise have temporary convenient aquaintances.

...so it must be convenient aquaintances, if one actually wanted to adhere to the idea of piercing the obscurity of the minute processes of human life. If one could stand to... No other way to be real and not boring I think.

Perhaps instead mess with being unreal here and there.

Additional problem with one person alone in another world, when first meeting people is if one is being realistic, he has absolutely no clue what the social norms are in said world and would mainly just be hesitant and again mired in boring stuff if one were to be realistic.

The escapist man-traveling-to-another-world-idea just doesn't work so well with realism, of course. (Well, it could.) Best solution is he is from the other world. And does at least know the customs somewhat.

He's from the other world, just in a new area, finally on his own. Next needs to have some common goal which causes temporary convenient aquaintances. The best thing to bring people together is some common enemy. (Invented here much like the women at work are constantly inventing enemies to slander in order to bring theirselves together.)

Slight variant on the same story told over and over. Common enemy brings people together.