Archived from groups: rec.games.int-fiction (More info?)
This post contains reviews of the following games:
Goose, Egg, Badger
All Things Devours
A Light's Tale
Blink
I Must Play
------------------------------------
Goose, Egg, Badger
----------
Once again, I'm engaged early on. The writing style is quirky, but in
a good way--it's the sort of quirkiness that is obviously deliberate,
and so inspires confidence in the author. It also helps me get a very
good sense of who I am as a character. This, rather than reams of
exposition, is the right way to do a non-cipher PC.
Oops--bit of sloppiness...Alex covers his ears whether or not he's in
the room. Not a big deal, I guess. Oh, wait, no...he's here after all.
But when did he follow me? That was confusing.
Not sure what I think about the whole "urge" mechanism. Also, why am I
running around sorting animals when there might be an intruder on the
loose?
OK, the bugs (as in insects, not errors) were weird. Am I dreaming?
Are they going to be explained in some other way? Or are they just
there to make a puzzle a puzzle?
My impression is going downhill, I'm afraid. Even with the hints, I'm
not making a whole bunch of progress on the puzzles. I haven't been
playing very long yet, so perhaps that's to be expected, but the
puzzles just don't seem fun enough to keep me interested. Plus, the
writing is getting sparser. Not worse, but there's less of it, so it's
not able to shoulder the burden of keeping me engaged when the puzzles
can't. The carry limit is also kind of annoying.
OK, I feel kind of foolish. After running around in circles for a bit
(I was able to get the yak and vacuum the house, but that was about
it), I went to the walkthrough. The 100-point one. I didn't use it,
though--as soon as I saw it, I got a sneaking suspicion, and typed
SECRETS to confirm it. Sure enough. OK, that's pretty impressive.
But wait a moment. I *don't* feel so foolish. There are three
possibilities here:
1) We were meant to type SECRETS up front. In that case, calling it
SECRETS is a bad idea; it looks like it will entirely spoil the game.
2) We were supposed to figure out the secret on our own. In which
case, I've got to say, the game was totally unfair. Only one or two of
the special words ("vacuum" and, *maybe*, "scoop") were words it would
be logical to try at random, and the one-point bonuses from those two
actions don't constitute enough of a baseline to aid in further
experimentation. And there's no suggestion, whatsoever, that this game
revolves around wordplay. I'm sorry; I refuse to feel bad about having
missed this.
3) We weren't, necessarily, supposed to figure out the secret and get
the bonus points--they were just an Easter egg for the truly clever.
But in that case, the game has to stand or fall on its standard
puzzles, and these just aren't good enough to be worth it.
It just occurred to me: Is the title supposed to be some sort of sly
reference to Hofstadter? If so, what?
Strengths: A very impressive gimmick.
Weaknesses: The gimmick is easy to miss, and the rest of the game
doesn't stand up well without it.
Overall: I'm torn. I *would* have had lots of fun, if I had gotten the
joke before needing it explained. But I didn't. I'll balance the two
out and give this a middling score.
Biggest suggestion: If your game is going to stand on one puzzle, you
need to do something to ensure that people will have a reasonable
chance of getting it. A larger baseline (as mentioned above) would
help. Writing your room descriptions as you expect people to play
would have helped, but admittedly, it would have been nearly
impossible. Even giving some sort of hint that wordplay is relevant
would have been a big help.
Score: 6
------------------------------------
All Things Devours
----------
I'd worry about the too-easy Tolkein reference in the title, but the
blurb admits to an "all-too-familiar" paradigm and promises something
new. So I'll try to keep this from biasing me.
Not much like a six-minute time limit to get the adrenaline pumping.
This will work if done well (and isn't, for example, nigh-impossible).
Minor quibble: I should know exactly where my lab is. In a timed game,
it makes no sense for me to have to hunt around for it. It's a minor
quibble because the lab is, in fact, easy to find. But I should be
able to get directions, either because they're in the room
descriptions or by using a command like "Where is" or "find".
The prototype puzzle is neat. Although it's defintiely "learn by
dying", as the about text warns.
Oh wow. OK, I think I see what I have to do to get through that second
door. Let's give it a try. That whole "six-minute" time limit, though
relevant, is only the tenth of it.
Woah. That was a lot of fun. That's usually not the sort of puzzle I
like...lots of note-taking and timing. But it *was* original, and I
actually *did* enjoy it--enough that I kept at it until I won (well, I
had to go to the hints to get the optimal ending, but I got the
second-best ending without them).
Writing? Gosh, I didn't even notice the writing. I was too involved in
the puzzle. That's fine.
Actually, in retrospect, I should have had a map of the whole
place...although also in retrospect, it wouldn't have been that
important.
Strengths: The main puzzle--and there's really only one puzzle,
although it has some sub-parts, is very impressive, very well
thought-out, very complex.
Weaknesses: It is just this one puzzle. And it's kind of an efficiency
puzzle (not entirely, but still), which is not, I think, the best
sort. You really have to be in the mood for some tactics to get much
out of this.
Overall: A very worthwhile play.
Biggest suggestion: From the intro text--"A second, more difficult,
version will be released after the competition closes." You've *got*
to be kidding. A version with with new and different stuff, sure. A
version with more puzzles, OK. But one where the primary puzzle is
*harder* than this? No way. I enjoyed this, but I wouldn't play one
with a harder version of the time puzzle. There's a fine line between
challenge and masochism. Oh, and lose the Tolkein. It contributes
nothing.
Score: 10
------------------------------------
A Light's Tale
----------
The intro doesn't do it for me. The craft broke down...and this guy
just appeared out of nowhere? Or was he on the craft all along? Or did
he ask to be let aboard and, for some reason, I let him? And the first
three sentences...repetition (of, e.g., "Fate") can work, but only for
comic effect (which I don't think is intended here) or in prose that
brushes up against
poetry (which this doesn't). It comes off as clunky.
A minor quibble, more a note for the author: I don't think the license
text at the beginning of the game makes any legal sense. You might be
trying to articulate a "can distribute as-is, but no derivative works
without permission" license--there are lots of these that you can copy
from the web. If you want something with any force, go with that.
Hm. I'm at "The Beginning". This sort of stuff is OK for deam
sequences (see Blue Chairs), but not without any sort of explanation.
And who's this "me" I can follow? I had no indication there was
another character in this game (except the man, but he's referred to
in the third person). Yes, I know, I'm missing the point and being
deliberately obtuse--this is supposed to be some sort of
philosophical...something. But you have to engage me more, with plot,
images, characters I care about, or, well, *something*, before I'll
jump down metaphysical rabbit holes with you. (OK, I suppose I've
answered my own question--I'm assuming that "me" is the author.) Or I
suppose you can get me to agree to judge a competition, in which case
I'll give you some more of my time. We'll see.
The language is...a bit off. It reminds me of the language in The
Realm (although I must admit it annoys me a bit more, because it seems
to take itself so *seriously*). The mechanics have only occasional
glitches (e.g., there should be a comma in "In the corner hidden far
away", unless you mean the *corner* is hidden), but there are also
things that just aren't idiomatic.
"A peculiar object, it..." seems wrong to me; not grammatically, but
stylistically. I wish I could explain why better. It may just be that
it implies that the objects peculiarity has explanitory force: "A
picky eater, he refused all brussels sprouts" makes sense to me,
because the subject's pickiness explains the refusal. But the mirror's
peculiarity doesn't explain
anything. (It's the other way around--the rest of the sentence
explains why the mirror is peculiar). Anyway, how can I tell that the
mirror has no glass on the far side? Aren't the far sides of most
mirrors covered with some sort of opaque backing, like wood (if
they're stand-alone), or in direct contact with a wall (otherwise)?
The parser is badgering me ("look through it! Do you think it's just
there to stare at?"). Don't do that, please.
A "messed-up dump"? How do you mess up a dump? I think the author is
going for a sort of poetic writing style. But a lot of people have a
misconception about poetry's relation to language--they think that,
when you write poetry (or prose poetry), you don't need to think very
hard about what your words mean, because poetic language is "loose".
It's just the opposite--in good poetic language, even more than good
prose, the author has put careful consideration into *every* *single*
*word*. If it doesn't add something to precisely what they
are trying to express, out it goes (well, OK, words like "the" usually
don't count here, although they can). If you're trying to create an
aura of mystery, superfluous words, like "messed-up" (which isn't even
very descriptive), need to go.
Why does "get mirror" seem to mean "get mirror.read it"? Why couldn't
I read the mirror first? And why am I a gopher? At least the author
seems to have dropped the whole "deep" language thing.
"I won't let you go that way?" It's an interesting idea to have a
parser own up to its limits, but I preferred the standard error
message.
Where did the gopher gang go? I thought they were right behind me. And
the shiny mirror seems to work just the opposite from the old one--I
"look at" it to see the image in it, and looking *through* it yields
nothing useful.
OK, I take it back. This game isn't trying to be deep. It's trying to
be silly. It's succeeding. Note that silly != funny.
The most logical thing I can think of to fix the flashlight (showing
it to George) gives a TADS error. Oh dear. Walkthrough time--any
confidence I had that the puzzles would work out logically has
evaporated. Once I don't trust the stability or logic of puzzles,
you've lost me completely--I'm not going to work hard at a puzzle to
find out that it's broken or illogical.
Why does the flashlight keep turning off? It doesn't tell me; all of a
sudden the walkthrough says I need to turn it on again, though, even
though I never turned it off.
There's all sorts of random magical stuff going on...a plant that
needs fire, but holds the world together...I mean, magic is OK, but
it's nice to feel like there's some rhyme or reason to it. Why is a
world where gophers are second-class citizens, but one thuggish gopher
terrifies everyone, and where "doors are darkness", as the hint-file
says, held together by a plant that lives off fire? Held together how?
And why do I still have the persistent sense that I'm supposed to find
all of this allegorical and deep?
Umm...you can't fix glowsticks. Once they're broken, they stay broken.
Unless you use magic, I guess. But since when did I know magic?
All right, I've rambled on too long already about this one.
Strengths: I've been very harsh with this game. But actually, it's not
without merit. Unlike many first games (and I'm assuming that this is
a first game), it acts like a real game, not a skeleton--most objects
have at least basic implementation, at least sparse descriptions, etc.
With all its flaws, it's not Detective territory.
Weaknesses: I've gone through these at length above. Don't try to spin
an allegory if you don't know what it's an allegory for. Make sure
your world has at least internal consistency. Have people playtest,
not just for bugs, but to make sure your puzzles make sense to someone
other than you. Don't talk down to your player, gloat at their
failings, badger them, or treat them like an idiot.
Overall: I can't say I'd recommend this. If you're unconvinced, type
"score". That response tells you most of what you need to know about
the game. (I'm not saying games need a score. I'm saying that what
they *don't* need is a lecture on how bad score is, especially one
that ends with "so there.")
Biggest suggestion: Drop the superior attitude towards your players. I
could have forgiven a lot more of the other stuff if it weren't for
that.
Score: 2
------------------------------------
Blink
----------
Powerful subject matter. And timely, of course. Of course, with great
power comes great responsibility--doing this well is going to be
tough.
One of the problems with menu-based communication is that, of course,
you leave yourself open to the player saying, "But I don't like *any*
of those responses." When I first talk to Harry, part of me wants to
type
>TELL HARRY ABOUT ACADEMIC DEFERMENTS
or
>TELL HARRY ABOUT QUAKERS
or even
>TELL HARRY ABOUT CANADA
Of course, it's unlikely that any author in any system could code for
all of these, let alone all other possibilities that spring to mind.
But *no* option other than telling Harry that he has to go? I don't
know enough about my character to know that I wouldn't tell him one of
these things. Plenty of fathers *did* tell their sons such things,
after all. No guarantee they would
work, of course.
BTW, in a game with a "Priest Plot" like this (one with lots of
flashbacks, where narrative order doesn't match chronological order),
you can really help orient the player with "x me". Beyond telling me
*who* I am, you can throw in a few clues to give me some idea of my
current age, etc.
Minor quibble: I don't think there are redwoods anywhere but western
North America. I could be wrong about this.
More major quibble: During a dream sequence, don't respond to "wake"
with "The horrible truth is, this is not a dream."
Well, that was short. I understood (and, personally, tend to agree
with) the message, although it's not a very complex or nuanced one.
And I did find the writing affecting.
I would have liked to see, well, *more*. More of a chance for me to
learn about my own character...I assume my son *didn't* really die,
since no daughter is mentioned, and I have a grandson...but there must
have been some Vietnam-era trauma, to explain the dream...Or if not,
something else? From my conversation options, I get the idea that I
*had* always been pretty hawkish...so were these things just bubbling
away at the back of my mind? Did it really take my grandson's question
to make me think about them at all? There's nothing wrong with a short
game, but this would have benefitted so much from a little more space
to breathe.
Strengths: The writing, like I said, did affect me emotionally. The
job is made easier by the emotional nature of the subject, but it's
still far from trivial.
Weaknesses: The game is more of an idea for a story than a story.
Overall: Worth playing, if brief and simple.
Biggest suggestion: Give us more time to come to understand the main
character.
Score: 7
------------------------------------
I Must Play
----------
The first thing that struck me about this game was that the style
seemed...breathless. Then I noticed waht it was: The average sentence
is very, very short. This sort of makes sense in a game told from the
perspective of, I assume, a kid of nine or so, but I'm still finding
that it's actually tiring to read. (Just as it can be painful to read
a lot of SHOUTING, reading this makes me feel like I've been
hyperventilating.) I'll need to see how it wears on me.
Huh. An arcade full of interactive fiction? My sort of arcade. I was a
bit worried that this was going to be a big Z-machine abuse, but no;
it's legitimate I-F. Oh, wait. OK, it's a fairly cute conceit--a bunch
of standard arcade games, reconceived as I-F. Or at least, that looks
like the puce game.
And Eric is rather a trip. The humor in this game is, so far, getting
my vote.
The onyx game is weirder. If I die in a game, I die in real life? Of
course, I guess I can move items from game to game, so it makes a sort
of strange sense.
A bench I can't sit on? That seems like lazy implementation.
And on the aqua/green games, Eric seems to have lost something too. He
needs to be more...consistent in his strangeness. With the puce game,
he gave this truly *ridiculous* speech about the game's deeper
meaning, and its implications for society. With aqua/green, he just
gave a dumb account of the plot. It keeps him from having a really
identifiable comic character...I think having him come up with
outlandish morals for each game would have been more intelligent.
Guess the verb: "Get in limo" *must* be a synonym for "enter limo."
And "Open limo" *must* produce some sort of vaguely helpful response.
The implementation here is way, way too sparse.
I liked the conceit of this game--a bunch of I-F versions of what it
might be like to be in classic arcade games. But there was something a
bit inconsistent about it. The onyx and green games *weren't* anything
like the games they were supposed to simulate. That's not how you win
the relevant games, nor is it a role that anyone *other* than the
player ever reasonably takes in the course of those games (compare the
puce game, where, even though the original aracde game gives no hint
that this sort of thing is going on, it feels like a plausible
backstory to a typical gaming session--by contrast, computer viruses
play *no role*--couldn't *conceivably* play any role--in the game on
which the green game was based).
Strengths: Some of the basic ideas--the basic idea of the game, the
basic idea of Eric--are very original.
Weaknesses: The implementation of the basic ideas is very uneven. I'm
not talking about programming here (although there are a number of
places where more synonyms would have been very good), but rather the
carrying through of the concepts (IF-like explanations of what's going
on in these clasic games; a supercillious and over-analytic reviewer
who can see social commentary in Tetris) to their logical conclusion.
Overall: A very promising game that didn't live up to its conception.
Biggest suggestion: An idea this good deserves more crafting. Think
about what you want your characters to be--don't just decide that Eric
should offer "silly" commentary on the games; come up with a
particular *way* you want his commentary to be silly. Don't just
decide you want to write games that are *inspired* by classic arcade
games; decide exactly what you want the relationship to be. Then stick
with it, all the way through the game.
Score: 5
This post contains reviews of the following games:
Goose, Egg, Badger
All Things Devours
A Light's Tale
Blink
I Must Play
------------------------------------
Goose, Egg, Badger
----------
Once again, I'm engaged early on. The writing style is quirky, but in
a good way--it's the sort of quirkiness that is obviously deliberate,
and so inspires confidence in the author. It also helps me get a very
good sense of who I am as a character. This, rather than reams of
exposition, is the right way to do a non-cipher PC.
Oops--bit of sloppiness...Alex covers his ears whether or not he's in
the room. Not a big deal, I guess. Oh, wait, no...he's here after all.
But when did he follow me? That was confusing.
Not sure what I think about the whole "urge" mechanism. Also, why am I
running around sorting animals when there might be an intruder on the
loose?
OK, the bugs (as in insects, not errors) were weird. Am I dreaming?
Are they going to be explained in some other way? Or are they just
there to make a puzzle a puzzle?
My impression is going downhill, I'm afraid. Even with the hints, I'm
not making a whole bunch of progress on the puzzles. I haven't been
playing very long yet, so perhaps that's to be expected, but the
puzzles just don't seem fun enough to keep me interested. Plus, the
writing is getting sparser. Not worse, but there's less of it, so it's
not able to shoulder the burden of keeping me engaged when the puzzles
can't. The carry limit is also kind of annoying.
OK, I feel kind of foolish. After running around in circles for a bit
(I was able to get the yak and vacuum the house, but that was about
it), I went to the walkthrough. The 100-point one. I didn't use it,
though--as soon as I saw it, I got a sneaking suspicion, and typed
SECRETS to confirm it. Sure enough. OK, that's pretty impressive.
But wait a moment. I *don't* feel so foolish. There are three
possibilities here:
1) We were meant to type SECRETS up front. In that case, calling it
SECRETS is a bad idea; it looks like it will entirely spoil the game.
2) We were supposed to figure out the secret on our own. In which
case, I've got to say, the game was totally unfair. Only one or two of
the special words ("vacuum" and, *maybe*, "scoop") were words it would
be logical to try at random, and the one-point bonuses from those two
actions don't constitute enough of a baseline to aid in further
experimentation. And there's no suggestion, whatsoever, that this game
revolves around wordplay. I'm sorry; I refuse to feel bad about having
missed this.
3) We weren't, necessarily, supposed to figure out the secret and get
the bonus points--they were just an Easter egg for the truly clever.
But in that case, the game has to stand or fall on its standard
puzzles, and these just aren't good enough to be worth it.
It just occurred to me: Is the title supposed to be some sort of sly
reference to Hofstadter? If so, what?
Strengths: A very impressive gimmick.
Weaknesses: The gimmick is easy to miss, and the rest of the game
doesn't stand up well without it.
Overall: I'm torn. I *would* have had lots of fun, if I had gotten the
joke before needing it explained. But I didn't. I'll balance the two
out and give this a middling score.
Biggest suggestion: If your game is going to stand on one puzzle, you
need to do something to ensure that people will have a reasonable
chance of getting it. A larger baseline (as mentioned above) would
help. Writing your room descriptions as you expect people to play
would have helped, but admittedly, it would have been nearly
impossible. Even giving some sort of hint that wordplay is relevant
would have been a big help.
Score: 6
------------------------------------
All Things Devours
----------
I'd worry about the too-easy Tolkein reference in the title, but the
blurb admits to an "all-too-familiar" paradigm and promises something
new. So I'll try to keep this from biasing me.
Not much like a six-minute time limit to get the adrenaline pumping.
This will work if done well (and isn't, for example, nigh-impossible).
Minor quibble: I should know exactly where my lab is. In a timed game,
it makes no sense for me to have to hunt around for it. It's a minor
quibble because the lab is, in fact, easy to find. But I should be
able to get directions, either because they're in the room
descriptions or by using a command like "Where is" or "find".
The prototype puzzle is neat. Although it's defintiely "learn by
dying", as the about text warns.
Oh wow. OK, I think I see what I have to do to get through that second
door. Let's give it a try. That whole "six-minute" time limit, though
relevant, is only the tenth of it.
Woah. That was a lot of fun. That's usually not the sort of puzzle I
like...lots of note-taking and timing. But it *was* original, and I
actually *did* enjoy it--enough that I kept at it until I won (well, I
had to go to the hints to get the optimal ending, but I got the
second-best ending without them).
Writing? Gosh, I didn't even notice the writing. I was too involved in
the puzzle. That's fine.
Actually, in retrospect, I should have had a map of the whole
place...although also in retrospect, it wouldn't have been that
important.
Strengths: The main puzzle--and there's really only one puzzle,
although it has some sub-parts, is very impressive, very well
thought-out, very complex.
Weaknesses: It is just this one puzzle. And it's kind of an efficiency
puzzle (not entirely, but still), which is not, I think, the best
sort. You really have to be in the mood for some tactics to get much
out of this.
Overall: A very worthwhile play.
Biggest suggestion: From the intro text--"A second, more difficult,
version will be released after the competition closes." You've *got*
to be kidding. A version with with new and different stuff, sure. A
version with more puzzles, OK. But one where the primary puzzle is
*harder* than this? No way. I enjoyed this, but I wouldn't play one
with a harder version of the time puzzle. There's a fine line between
challenge and masochism. Oh, and lose the Tolkein. It contributes
nothing.
Score: 10
------------------------------------
A Light's Tale
----------
The intro doesn't do it for me. The craft broke down...and this guy
just appeared out of nowhere? Or was he on the craft all along? Or did
he ask to be let aboard and, for some reason, I let him? And the first
three sentences...repetition (of, e.g., "Fate") can work, but only for
comic effect (which I don't think is intended here) or in prose that
brushes up against
poetry (which this doesn't). It comes off as clunky.
A minor quibble, more a note for the author: I don't think the license
text at the beginning of the game makes any legal sense. You might be
trying to articulate a "can distribute as-is, but no derivative works
without permission" license--there are lots of these that you can copy
from the web. If you want something with any force, go with that.
Hm. I'm at "The Beginning". This sort of stuff is OK for deam
sequences (see Blue Chairs), but not without any sort of explanation.
And who's this "me" I can follow? I had no indication there was
another character in this game (except the man, but he's referred to
in the third person). Yes, I know, I'm missing the point and being
deliberately obtuse--this is supposed to be some sort of
philosophical...something. But you have to engage me more, with plot,
images, characters I care about, or, well, *something*, before I'll
jump down metaphysical rabbit holes with you. (OK, I suppose I've
answered my own question--I'm assuming that "me" is the author.) Or I
suppose you can get me to agree to judge a competition, in which case
I'll give you some more of my time. We'll see.
The language is...a bit off. It reminds me of the language in The
Realm (although I must admit it annoys me a bit more, because it seems
to take itself so *seriously*). The mechanics have only occasional
glitches (e.g., there should be a comma in "In the corner hidden far
away", unless you mean the *corner* is hidden), but there are also
things that just aren't idiomatic.
"A peculiar object, it..." seems wrong to me; not grammatically, but
stylistically. I wish I could explain why better. It may just be that
it implies that the objects peculiarity has explanitory force: "A
picky eater, he refused all brussels sprouts" makes sense to me,
because the subject's pickiness explains the refusal. But the mirror's
peculiarity doesn't explain
anything. (It's the other way around--the rest of the sentence
explains why the mirror is peculiar). Anyway, how can I tell that the
mirror has no glass on the far side? Aren't the far sides of most
mirrors covered with some sort of opaque backing, like wood (if
they're stand-alone), or in direct contact with a wall (otherwise)?
The parser is badgering me ("look through it! Do you think it's just
there to stare at?"). Don't do that, please.
A "messed-up dump"? How do you mess up a dump? I think the author is
going for a sort of poetic writing style. But a lot of people have a
misconception about poetry's relation to language--they think that,
when you write poetry (or prose poetry), you don't need to think very
hard about what your words mean, because poetic language is "loose".
It's just the opposite--in good poetic language, even more than good
prose, the author has put careful consideration into *every* *single*
*word*. If it doesn't add something to precisely what they
are trying to express, out it goes (well, OK, words like "the" usually
don't count here, although they can). If you're trying to create an
aura of mystery, superfluous words, like "messed-up" (which isn't even
very descriptive), need to go.
Why does "get mirror" seem to mean "get mirror.read it"? Why couldn't
I read the mirror first? And why am I a gopher? At least the author
seems to have dropped the whole "deep" language thing.
"I won't let you go that way?" It's an interesting idea to have a
parser own up to its limits, but I preferred the standard error
message.
Where did the gopher gang go? I thought they were right behind me. And
the shiny mirror seems to work just the opposite from the old one--I
"look at" it to see the image in it, and looking *through* it yields
nothing useful.
OK, I take it back. This game isn't trying to be deep. It's trying to
be silly. It's succeeding. Note that silly != funny.
The most logical thing I can think of to fix the flashlight (showing
it to George) gives a TADS error. Oh dear. Walkthrough time--any
confidence I had that the puzzles would work out logically has
evaporated. Once I don't trust the stability or logic of puzzles,
you've lost me completely--I'm not going to work hard at a puzzle to
find out that it's broken or illogical.
Why does the flashlight keep turning off? It doesn't tell me; all of a
sudden the walkthrough says I need to turn it on again, though, even
though I never turned it off.
There's all sorts of random magical stuff going on...a plant that
needs fire, but holds the world together...I mean, magic is OK, but
it's nice to feel like there's some rhyme or reason to it. Why is a
world where gophers are second-class citizens, but one thuggish gopher
terrifies everyone, and where "doors are darkness", as the hint-file
says, held together by a plant that lives off fire? Held together how?
And why do I still have the persistent sense that I'm supposed to find
all of this allegorical and deep?
Umm...you can't fix glowsticks. Once they're broken, they stay broken.
Unless you use magic, I guess. But since when did I know magic?
All right, I've rambled on too long already about this one.
Strengths: I've been very harsh with this game. But actually, it's not
without merit. Unlike many first games (and I'm assuming that this is
a first game), it acts like a real game, not a skeleton--most objects
have at least basic implementation, at least sparse descriptions, etc.
With all its flaws, it's not Detective territory.
Weaknesses: I've gone through these at length above. Don't try to spin
an allegory if you don't know what it's an allegory for. Make sure
your world has at least internal consistency. Have people playtest,
not just for bugs, but to make sure your puzzles make sense to someone
other than you. Don't talk down to your player, gloat at their
failings, badger them, or treat them like an idiot.
Overall: I can't say I'd recommend this. If you're unconvinced, type
"score". That response tells you most of what you need to know about
the game. (I'm not saying games need a score. I'm saying that what
they *don't* need is a lecture on how bad score is, especially one
that ends with "so there.")
Biggest suggestion: Drop the superior attitude towards your players. I
could have forgiven a lot more of the other stuff if it weren't for
that.
Score: 2
------------------------------------
Blink
----------
Powerful subject matter. And timely, of course. Of course, with great
power comes great responsibility--doing this well is going to be
tough.
One of the problems with menu-based communication is that, of course,
you leave yourself open to the player saying, "But I don't like *any*
of those responses." When I first talk to Harry, part of me wants to
type
>TELL HARRY ABOUT ACADEMIC DEFERMENTS
or
>TELL HARRY ABOUT QUAKERS
or even
>TELL HARRY ABOUT CANADA
Of course, it's unlikely that any author in any system could code for
all of these, let alone all other possibilities that spring to mind.
But *no* option other than telling Harry that he has to go? I don't
know enough about my character to know that I wouldn't tell him one of
these things. Plenty of fathers *did* tell their sons such things,
after all. No guarantee they would
work, of course.
BTW, in a game with a "Priest Plot" like this (one with lots of
flashbacks, where narrative order doesn't match chronological order),
you can really help orient the player with "x me". Beyond telling me
*who* I am, you can throw in a few clues to give me some idea of my
current age, etc.
Minor quibble: I don't think there are redwoods anywhere but western
North America. I could be wrong about this.
More major quibble: During a dream sequence, don't respond to "wake"
with "The horrible truth is, this is not a dream."
Well, that was short. I understood (and, personally, tend to agree
with) the message, although it's not a very complex or nuanced one.
And I did find the writing affecting.
I would have liked to see, well, *more*. More of a chance for me to
learn about my own character...I assume my son *didn't* really die,
since no daughter is mentioned, and I have a grandson...but there must
have been some Vietnam-era trauma, to explain the dream...Or if not,
something else? From my conversation options, I get the idea that I
*had* always been pretty hawkish...so were these things just bubbling
away at the back of my mind? Did it really take my grandson's question
to make me think about them at all? There's nothing wrong with a short
game, but this would have benefitted so much from a little more space
to breathe.
Strengths: The writing, like I said, did affect me emotionally. The
job is made easier by the emotional nature of the subject, but it's
still far from trivial.
Weaknesses: The game is more of an idea for a story than a story.
Overall: Worth playing, if brief and simple.
Biggest suggestion: Give us more time to come to understand the main
character.
Score: 7
------------------------------------
I Must Play
----------
The first thing that struck me about this game was that the style
seemed...breathless. Then I noticed waht it was: The average sentence
is very, very short. This sort of makes sense in a game told from the
perspective of, I assume, a kid of nine or so, but I'm still finding
that it's actually tiring to read. (Just as it can be painful to read
a lot of SHOUTING, reading this makes me feel like I've been
hyperventilating.) I'll need to see how it wears on me.
Huh. An arcade full of interactive fiction? My sort of arcade. I was a
bit worried that this was going to be a big Z-machine abuse, but no;
it's legitimate I-F. Oh, wait. OK, it's a fairly cute conceit--a bunch
of standard arcade games, reconceived as I-F. Or at least, that looks
like the puce game.
And Eric is rather a trip. The humor in this game is, so far, getting
my vote.
The onyx game is weirder. If I die in a game, I die in real life? Of
course, I guess I can move items from game to game, so it makes a sort
of strange sense.
A bench I can't sit on? That seems like lazy implementation.
And on the aqua/green games, Eric seems to have lost something too. He
needs to be more...consistent in his strangeness. With the puce game,
he gave this truly *ridiculous* speech about the game's deeper
meaning, and its implications for society. With aqua/green, he just
gave a dumb account of the plot. It keeps him from having a really
identifiable comic character...I think having him come up with
outlandish morals for each game would have been more intelligent.
Guess the verb: "Get in limo" *must* be a synonym for "enter limo."
And "Open limo" *must* produce some sort of vaguely helpful response.
The implementation here is way, way too sparse.
I liked the conceit of this game--a bunch of I-F versions of what it
might be like to be in classic arcade games. But there was something a
bit inconsistent about it. The onyx and green games *weren't* anything
like the games they were supposed to simulate. That's not how you win
the relevant games, nor is it a role that anyone *other* than the
player ever reasonably takes in the course of those games (compare the
puce game, where, even though the original aracde game gives no hint
that this sort of thing is going on, it feels like a plausible
backstory to a typical gaming session--by contrast, computer viruses
play *no role*--couldn't *conceivably* play any role--in the game on
which the green game was based).
Strengths: Some of the basic ideas--the basic idea of the game, the
basic idea of Eric--are very original.
Weaknesses: The implementation of the basic ideas is very uneven. I'm
not talking about programming here (although there are a number of
places where more synonyms would have been very good), but rather the
carrying through of the concepts (IF-like explanations of what's going
on in these clasic games; a supercillious and over-analytic reviewer
who can see social commentary in Tetris) to their logical conclusion.
Overall: A very promising game that didn't live up to its conception.
Biggest suggestion: An idea this good deserves more crafting. Think
about what you want your characters to be--don't just decide that Eric
should offer "silly" commentary on the games; come up with a
particular *way* you want his commentary to be silly. Don't just
decide you want to write games that are *inspired* by classic arcade
games; decide exactly what you want the relationship to be. Then stick
with it, all the way through the game.
Score: 5
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