From Childhood RPGs to Dark Fantasy Novels: Nimona's Creator Levels Up His Own Story
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
Nimona and She-Ra creator ND Stevenson has just released his debut novel, *Scarlet Morning*, a dark fantasy epic that remarkably evolved from a 600-page story he wrote as a teenager and "DM'd" with his friends, proving that childhood imagination games can truly level up into profound works of art.
Alright, mateys, gather 'round the digital campfire, because I've been tinkering with a story that’s wilder than a glitch in the Matrix and more inspiring than finding a rare legendary drop on your first try. We're talking about ND Stevenson here – you know, the genius behind *Nimona* and *She-Ra and the Princesses of Power*. Now, he's just dropped his first prose novel, *Scarlet Morning*, and let me tell you, the origin story for this bad boy is pure gold for anyone who ever spent their childhood DMing their mates or crafting sprawling fantasy worlds in their head.
Fair warning: this isn’t just another author’s new book. This is a full-blown creative excavation, a proper deep dive into the mind of his teenage self. Back when he was just 17, Stevenson had apparently penned a whopping 600-page manuscript about two orphans, Viola and Wilmur, who stumble onto a pirate ship and get tangled up in a decades-old mystery. Sounds like the kind of epic narrative quest line we all tried to write in our notebooks, doesn't it? But here’s the kicker: he rediscovered a digital copy of that old monster five years ago and just *fell back into it*.
Now, as a digital wizard myself, I’ve accidentally summoned a few demons (and a fair few broken links) trying to revisit old code, so the idea of a 600-page teenage novel not just being a cringe-fest but a *compelling starting point*? That’s some serious magic right there. Stevenson describes the new *Scarlet Morning* as being "somewhere between an adaptation and a collaboration with my teenage self." How bloody brilliant is that? It’s not just a rewrite; it’s a dialogue across time, asking "What would I do with this now? What does this story *really* want to say?" He's kept the core spirit – even the opening line, apparently – but expanded the world-building, turning the ocean to salt and warping reality in ways his younger self only hinted at. Think of it like a massive game remaster, where the original vision is respected, but the engine is totally new, and the lore gets a serious upgrade.
One thing I've always admired about Stevenson's work, from *Nimona*'s fierce heart to *She-Ra*'s nuanced relationships, is the emotional depth. He reckons that's what truly drew him back to this old tale. It wasn't just nostalgia; it was the raw, unpolished gem of human connection he found in the relationships, particularly between Viola and the pirate captain, Cadence Chase. That idea of looking up to someone, seeing them as a potential future version of yourself – that’s a powerful narrative thread, isn't it? It’s something many of us, especially as teenagers (and let's be honest, still as adults, when we're trying to figure out our character build), can totally relate to.
And here’s a cool observation: he didn’t even have a self-insert character in his original version. Most of us, when we're crafting our first epic, tend to make the main hero suspiciously good-looking and ridiculously powerful, a clear proxy for our own latent awesomeness. Not Stevenson! He wrote roles for his friends. But now, older and wiser, he sees bits of himself in both the wide-eyed Viola and the complex adult, Chase. It's like levelling up in life and finding new empathy for the NPCs you once only observed from a distance.
Now, this is where it gets really juicy for us gamers. Polygon’s Tasha Robinson (great questions, mate!) asked Stevenson about running his friends through this story as a kid. And his answer? It sounds *exactly* like DMing an RPG. He was homeschooled, had a load of free time, and his "social currency" was crafting these sprawling imagination games. Whether it was clothespins, Barbies, or just playing on the playground, he was effectively improvising an epic campaign.
"There was a lot of death and betrayal and mystery and intrigue," he recalls, "I'm like, 'Wait! But we are divorced! And you are dead! And what is that? It's really me in disguise!'" Bloody hell, sounds like every chaotic, high-stakes session of D&D I've ever been a part of! He'd assign roles, even sending chapters of his first draft to friends on the other side of the world. It was a proper collaborative, community-driven narrative, long before anyone dreamed of Web3 or decentralized storytelling. He was building worlds to entertain his mates, and that, my friends, is the purest form of game design and narrative craft. To revisit that world now, as an adult, feels like a quest to unearth forgotten lore, to dust off ancient ruins and see what still resonates.
So, what's next for this revamped childhood epic? There’s a sequel, *Evening Gray*, already in the works, designed to be in direct conversation with *Scarlet Morning* and answer some of the first book's mysteries. Sounds like a classic two-part campaign arc, doesn't it?
As for a TV adaptation? Stevenson's approach is brilliantly pragmatic, which warms my skeptical heart. He’s definitely open to it, but he wants the books to be *everything they can be* first. He doesn't want to write for the screen; he wants to write for the *medium*. And if it gets adapted, he reckons it needs to be someone else’s vision, because it’s too close to his heart to adapt himself. That's a refreshing take in an industry often obsessed with multi-platform synergy before the core product is even fully baked. It's like saying, "Let me finish this game, mate, before we start talking about the movie tie-in. The game itself needs to be perfect." A cautious optimism that acknowledges the potential, but prioritizes the integrity of the original creation.
The original Polygon piece even includes a particularly chilling excerpt from *Scarlet Morning*, hinting at the dark, unsettling atmosphere. Trust me, it’s got that classic eerie vibe that makes you want to check over your shoulder.
Ultimately, Stevenson's journey with *Scarlet Morning* isn't just a cool author story; it's a testament to the enduring power of imagination, the value of revisiting old ideas with new perspective, and the sheer joy of collaborative storytelling, whether it’s with clothespin puppets or a massive 600-page manuscript. It’s a reminder that some of the most innovative and heartfelt stories started out as just a bunch of mates playing make-believe. And frankly, that's a bloody good reason to be excited about this novel.
This fascinating dive into creative evolution comes courtesy of an interview by Tasha Robinson over at Polygon. You can find the original article and read a creepy chapter excerpt for yourself right here
Tags: Fantasy, Storytelling, Creative Process, Tabletop RPGs, Author Spotlight
Original article: Polygon