So I hit a bit of an impasse today, and an ironic one at that. Despite proclaiming in my very first post just a couple of months ago that I might have to struggle for ideas, I've got way too many tales to tell this week. It's been hectic, made even more so by me being sick since Monday night (which has really put a damper on my productivity, let me tell you).
This might seem counter-intuitive, but seeing as the illness itself could be a topic of discussion, let alone my attempts to write and accomplish work while ill, my week has been full of blog worthy topics. So instead (and because I really don't feel like spending a huge amount of time writing this week because of said illness), I am using that idea as the topic of discussion.
This is a common problem I face in writing: Keeping on track and fully exploring one topic of discussion. It's not necessarily a bad problem to have, but when a writer attempts to explore every possible aspect of a story, every potential plot line, it tends to end up something akin both metaphorically and physically like a grocery list.
For example, the potential list of topics I could discuss this week are: my illness, my sister's first week of college, various news stories (from the recovery of the girl missing from 1991 to elections in Afghanistan, video games (including Demi-God and Dawn of War II, and which I played because I was sick), and on and on and on. There are many more, but as you can see, while there may be potential in each of these topics, right now they are nothing more than potentially juicy morsels, unable to satisfy the appetite of a hungry reader.
So what is the point that I'm trying to get across? Well, always take the time to fully explain and explore a topic, otherwise a writer can miss great opportunities and leave the reader unsatisfied. It is better to explain one topic well and fully, than to just touch a number of them. This is true for anything from a lecture or speech to a blog post.
The second point I would like to get across is that one should never write a blog post while sick. It tends to make you want to end your postings suddenly and unexpectedly.
Of course, as I said before, sometimes it is a good idea to leave your readers wanting more.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
TV and Video Games: How to Rot your Brains
The last couple months, while editing my novel, I haven't been entirely sure if my writing has been improving or not. I've thought so, but it is impossible to tell without some sort of outside verification. I gotten positive feedback from my parents as they have re-read the edited sections, but that doesn't necessarily imply that I am improving, merely that Erin (my editor) is good at communicating areas that need greater detail.
Unfortunately, there aren't many tests that allow me to demonstrate my writing prowess, other than a new work. And it would still be difficult to tell: differences in plot, length, pacing, etc. could all impact the quality of the work. Outside of a direct sequel, there aren't many ways to tell.
But I may have found a litmus test of sorts: television. I don't really watch much television at all, but the other night I was flipping through the channels during a commercial break in the X-games. I stumbled upon a show that I actually enjoy, Star Trek: Enterprise. What hit me next was something very odd... I realized that although I liked the overall premise of the show, there was something lacking in the episode I was watching. The characters were obviously in a supposedly tense situation while infiltrating something or some such, and therein lay the problem. There was nothing definitive about the planet the heroes were on; nothing struck me as extraordinary about their situation, or spoke volumes about the Enterprise world. I might have only picked up on it because I had basically jumped into the show right smack in the middle. With nothing to shape the environment or story premise, I found my brief snapshot of their world lacking and somewhat uninteresting.
That was the moment I realized I might be improving as writer.
I've realized that when writing a story, if you were to take a snapshot of any given moment in the plot, there must be something that stands out, something that draws the reader in. I am not sure if this is truly always possible, but I understood that in a sci-fi show like Enterprise, there should have been something in that scene alone that marked it as unique to that world. There is a balance that must be maintained, of course, but in a genre such as science fiction, it is an almost unforgivable sin to have a scene which correlates so exactly to another generic situation. Four heroes, holding guns, hiding behind a rock could be a scene out of a thousand movies or tens of thousands of books.
And it made me cringe at scenes I had constructed similarly in my own work.
On the flip side, I have also recently witnessed how smallest details can make a situation all the more inspiring and epic. Take for instance, the humorous tactics and strategy game Plants vs Zombies I recently downloaded onto my computer. The premise of the game is simple - and silly enough: protect yourself from brain-eating zombies by planting a garden of dangerous, semi-sentient plants across your lawn. It's a well-crafted game, with an easy game mechanic and a rather deep strategy and tactics component: each plant has distinct advantages and disadvantages against the many varieties of zombie you encounter, all of whom are seeking your succulent brains.
But besides the humorous premise, the finale of the game is actually quite exciting: the ultimate battle with Dr. Edgar von Zomboss and his giant Zom-bot.
OK, OK, so maybe it doesn't sounds more silly than epic, but it really is the little details: From the faster beat to the music, to the slightly decreased size of battlefield, to the change in tactics from surviving waves of enemy zombies to actually needing to damage Dr. Zomboss - all contribute to the excitement of the final battle. But beyond that, details that flesh out the world add to the finale as well. The grammatically correct note of warning from Dr. Zomboss just before the final battle (as opposed to the more common: Deer naybor, plez lets us eats your brainz). The loss of your most trusted ally, Crazy Dave, just before the battle. The nighttime onslaught, so your plants don't recieve additional sunlight to beef them up. It is these details that are unique to world and add depth to it.
It is these details that suck a player, a watcher, a reader into the world. For a brief moment in time, my lawn really is all that stands between the world and oblivion, and Dave - Crazy Dave is counting on me.
So ready the Cob Cannons, reinforce the Wall-Nuts, and wake up the Magnet Shrooms, the final battle has come!
Of course, maybe all that TV and those video games just rotted my brains, instead...
Mmmmm...brainz...
Unfortunately, there aren't many tests that allow me to demonstrate my writing prowess, other than a new work. And it would still be difficult to tell: differences in plot, length, pacing, etc. could all impact the quality of the work. Outside of a direct sequel, there aren't many ways to tell.
But I may have found a litmus test of sorts: television. I don't really watch much television at all, but the other night I was flipping through the channels during a commercial break in the X-games. I stumbled upon a show that I actually enjoy, Star Trek: Enterprise. What hit me next was something very odd... I realized that although I liked the overall premise of the show, there was something lacking in the episode I was watching. The characters were obviously in a supposedly tense situation while infiltrating something or some such, and therein lay the problem. There was nothing definitive about the planet the heroes were on; nothing struck me as extraordinary about their situation, or spoke volumes about the Enterprise world. I might have only picked up on it because I had basically jumped into the show right smack in the middle. With nothing to shape the environment or story premise, I found my brief snapshot of their world lacking and somewhat uninteresting.
That was the moment I realized I might be improving as writer.
I've realized that when writing a story, if you were to take a snapshot of any given moment in the plot, there must be something that stands out, something that draws the reader in. I am not sure if this is truly always possible, but I understood that in a sci-fi show like Enterprise, there should have been something in that scene alone that marked it as unique to that world. There is a balance that must be maintained, of course, but in a genre such as science fiction, it is an almost unforgivable sin to have a scene which correlates so exactly to another generic situation. Four heroes, holding guns, hiding behind a rock could be a scene out of a thousand movies or tens of thousands of books.
And it made me cringe at scenes I had constructed similarly in my own work.
On the flip side, I have also recently witnessed how smallest details can make a situation all the more inspiring and epic. Take for instance, the humorous tactics and strategy game Plants vs Zombies I recently downloaded onto my computer. The premise of the game is simple - and silly enough: protect yourself from brain-eating zombies by planting a garden of dangerous, semi-sentient plants across your lawn. It's a well-crafted game, with an easy game mechanic and a rather deep strategy and tactics component: each plant has distinct advantages and disadvantages against the many varieties of zombie you encounter, all of whom are seeking your succulent brains.
But besides the humorous premise, the finale of the game is actually quite exciting: the ultimate battle with Dr. Edgar von Zomboss and his giant Zom-bot.
OK, OK, so maybe it doesn't sounds more silly than epic, but it really is the little details: From the faster beat to the music, to the slightly decreased size of battlefield, to the change in tactics from surviving waves of enemy zombies to actually needing to damage Dr. Zomboss - all contribute to the excitement of the final battle. But beyond that, details that flesh out the world add to the finale as well. The grammatically correct note of warning from Dr. Zomboss just before the final battle (as opposed to the more common: Deer naybor, plez lets us eats your brainz). The loss of your most trusted ally, Crazy Dave, just before the battle. The nighttime onslaught, so your plants don't recieve additional sunlight to beef them up. It is these details that are unique to world and add depth to it.
It is these details that suck a player, a watcher, a reader into the world. For a brief moment in time, my lawn really is all that stands between the world and oblivion, and Dave - Crazy Dave is counting on me.
So ready the Cob Cannons, reinforce the Wall-Nuts, and wake up the Magnet Shrooms, the final battle has come!
Of course, maybe all that TV and those video games just rotted my brains, instead...
Mmmmm...brainz...
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Language Barrier - A Metaphysical Discussion
I had an interesting revelation this week: Human language is both liberating and confining to human ideas. This may seem highly esoteric and metaphysical, but as always, I'll ask you to bear with me.
This revelation was actually something that occurred to me while trying to write in some edits for my novel after I had been listening to a Japanese language CD.
So first of all, what do I mean when I say that language is both liberating and confining? Well, obviously language is what allows humans to communicate with one another. But how does it allow humans to communicate? By simplifying ideas into more manageable pieces that another person can understand. For example, examine the difference between these two sentences:
A person went to the market.
I went to the market.
The word "I" communicates that well, I, went to the market, and not any one of 6 billion others on the planet. Language is functional because it constrains ideas. It limits the way that we can communicate a thought so that the thoughts meaning (what we wish to convey to others), is not open to interpretation.
If it were, we would be unable to communicate ideas effectively, and human progress would stop. For fun, see if you can figure out what I am trying to communicate here (don't get overwhelmed, they're easy):
Me...Me, Twins
Eye, Anti-Diamond
Simple Apple Circle
Actually, it would be fun to see what people think in comments. It might give a clue to how differently people think. Come up with your answers and then leave a comment with your solutions. I'll put my answers as a comment.
So, are you finished looking at those? What is the point I am making? Well, here is the interesting thing: As a writer, I am often trying to do just the opposite. I want certain things open to interpretation. Characters and places feel more alive when the reader can inject their own thoughts into it, because our own perspective is the most real. Language allows us to understand others perspectives to a degree, but never to the same amount as our own constant internal dialogue (and let me tell you, after the conversations I've had with that Jon guy... man, he's nuts). This struggle to convey ideas while leaving them open to interpretation or escape the boundaries of language is the same problem that inventors, thinkers, and thousands of others face as well, especially when trying to convey a new and original idea. It is a fascinating balancing act.
But let's add a new dimension to this discussion, how does each language impact the thoughts and culture of the country or people it is used by? Each language communicates thoughts and ideas differently, changing the way both that those ideas are expressed, and how people think about them. French, Spanish, German, they all have masculine and feminine forms and words, conveying certain traits and ideas automatically. Take the word chair. In English, it has no masculine or feminine modifier. Do you consider the object differently if is la chaise (as in French feminine)? I think it is impossible not to. Why are certain words modified in a certain way?
And others languages are entirely different. Take Japanese, which relies on the simplest of syllables and sometimes using words in the same way I expressed them in the game above. An entirely different method of thinking is required to grasp and communicate in another language. And here is the most important part, at least for me - writers can often greatly improve their own writing by forcing another perspective upon themselves, either by having someone edit, or attempting to adopt that perspective themselves. How much can I improve my own writing by learning another language? We will just have to find out.
This revelation was actually something that occurred to me while trying to write in some edits for my novel after I had been listening to a Japanese language CD.
So first of all, what do I mean when I say that language is both liberating and confining? Well, obviously language is what allows humans to communicate with one another. But how does it allow humans to communicate? By simplifying ideas into more manageable pieces that another person can understand. For example, examine the difference between these two sentences:
A person went to the market.
I went to the market.
The word "I" communicates that well, I, went to the market, and not any one of 6 billion others on the planet. Language is functional because it constrains ideas. It limits the way that we can communicate a thought so that the thoughts meaning (what we wish to convey to others), is not open to interpretation.
If it were, we would be unable to communicate ideas effectively, and human progress would stop. For fun, see if you can figure out what I am trying to communicate here (don't get overwhelmed, they're easy):
Me...Me, Twins
Eye, Anti-Diamond
Simple Apple Circle
Actually, it would be fun to see what people think in comments. It might give a clue to how differently people think. Come up with your answers and then leave a comment with your solutions. I'll put my answers as a comment.
So, are you finished looking at those? What is the point I am making? Well, here is the interesting thing: As a writer, I am often trying to do just the opposite. I want certain things open to interpretation. Characters and places feel more alive when the reader can inject their own thoughts into it, because our own perspective is the most real. Language allows us to understand others perspectives to a degree, but never to the same amount as our own constant internal dialogue (and let me tell you, after the conversations I've had with that Jon guy... man, he's nuts). This struggle to convey ideas while leaving them open to interpretation or escape the boundaries of language is the same problem that inventors, thinkers, and thousands of others face as well, especially when trying to convey a new and original idea. It is a fascinating balancing act.
But let's add a new dimension to this discussion, how does each language impact the thoughts and culture of the country or people it is used by? Each language communicates thoughts and ideas differently, changing the way both that those ideas are expressed, and how people think about them. French, Spanish, German, they all have masculine and feminine forms and words, conveying certain traits and ideas automatically. Take the word chair. In English, it has no masculine or feminine modifier. Do you consider the object differently if is la chaise (as in French feminine)? I think it is impossible not to. Why are certain words modified in a certain way?
And others languages are entirely different. Take Japanese, which relies on the simplest of syllables and sometimes using words in the same way I expressed them in the game above. An entirely different method of thinking is required to grasp and communicate in another language. And here is the most important part, at least for me - writers can often greatly improve their own writing by forcing another perspective upon themselves, either by having someone edit, or attempting to adopt that perspective themselves. How much can I improve my own writing by learning another language? We will just have to find out.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Ready. Set. Cook!
In my post last week, "Good game, Bad game", I talked about how I had been learning a great deal about conveying the proper level of detail for a good story. Honestly, it's a fine line. Too simplistic and the world can't coalesce for the reader. Too much detail and the story bogs down - excruciating detail leads to excruciating sequences.
This exact level is important in character development - characters are expressed through both their descriptions and emotions, as well as their interactions with other characters and the world. A character's clothes may need to have tiny details explained to complete the picture, but put those details in while that character is interacting with another and the conversation becomes stilted and unnatural.
But this week I've discovered something even more difficult: Action sequences. Although I've written plenty of action sequences before, I never realized their difficultly quite as much as I did this past week, when I reached the first particularly complex action sequence of my novel, and realized how much tweaking it needed.
Action sequences are unique not only in that the precise balance between detail and flow is so exact to create an enjoyable experience, but also in that you only get one shot. Whereas characters can grow and change, and a few off-kilter sequences still allow the reader to form a coherent picture, action sequences are a one-shot deal. You convey the action appropriately and you move on. If your character jumps across the chasm to fight the monster on the other side, your reader better darn well realize it, otherwise they are going to be very, very confused in a very short time.
All the momentum you have garnered up to that point in the story can come to a sudden, screeching halt. And once momentum is lost, it can take a long, long time to get back, assuming your reader wants to stick with you that long.
Case in point - in this blog post I wanted to talk about a new recipe I made up the other night: Goat Cheese, Spinach, Sausage, and Mushroom Stuffed Shells with a homemade Alfredo Sauce.
But how do I do that? Writing the recipe down isn't all that exciting, even if you do like to cook. Sometimes the greatest challenging is, ahem, "spicing up" the most mundane of sequences with enough detail and action to make each sequence interesting enough to hold the reader's interest.
I could write about the step-by-step process of the recipe, or simply say I cooked it. But both would be very passive and uninteresting. One is overloaded with detail; the other lacking.
Instead, I engaged in a dazzling display of culinary prowess. One hot summer afternoon, with my stomach growling incessantly for a meal, I was suddenly struck by inspiration. By combining the soft creaminess of goat cheese, the aromatic spices of hot sausage, the freshness of new spinach, and the mellow flavor of portobello mushrooms, I could create a delicious new pasta dish. And when topped with a homemade alfredo sauce to accent its creamy flavor, it would be truly fantastic.
Idea in hand, the kitchen became a flurry of activity, soon filling with the aroma of frying sausage and sauteed vegetables. Juggling pots and pans, mixing bowls and utensils, and chopping ingredients, soon I had labored to produce my goal: One pan with a delicious, smooth filling of goat cheese, sausage, spinach, and mushrooms, and another, simmering a mouth-watering combination of heavy cream, butter, and cheese. After but a few moments of adding spinach and mushrooms to the alfredo sauce, and rolling a lump of goat cheese into each shell, I had created a dish fit for kings!
It was ready for the final step: to be baked, each shell carefully topped with alfredo and a fine layer of grated cheese. A few, but interminable minutes later, I pulled my bubbling concoction from the oven, the intense heat the only thing keeping me from eating it straight from the pan.
And after stuffing myself with far more than I should have, I realized that the most difficult task of all still awaited me! No, not writing about it on my blog, as you may believe! It was doing the dishes - but no one wants to read about that!
This exact level is important in character development - characters are expressed through both their descriptions and emotions, as well as their interactions with other characters and the world. A character's clothes may need to have tiny details explained to complete the picture, but put those details in while that character is interacting with another and the conversation becomes stilted and unnatural.
But this week I've discovered something even more difficult: Action sequences. Although I've written plenty of action sequences before, I never realized their difficultly quite as much as I did this past week, when I reached the first particularly complex action sequence of my novel, and realized how much tweaking it needed.
Action sequences are unique not only in that the precise balance between detail and flow is so exact to create an enjoyable experience, but also in that you only get one shot. Whereas characters can grow and change, and a few off-kilter sequences still allow the reader to form a coherent picture, action sequences are a one-shot deal. You convey the action appropriately and you move on. If your character jumps across the chasm to fight the monster on the other side, your reader better darn well realize it, otherwise they are going to be very, very confused in a very short time.
All the momentum you have garnered up to that point in the story can come to a sudden, screeching halt. And once momentum is lost, it can take a long, long time to get back, assuming your reader wants to stick with you that long.
Case in point - in this blog post I wanted to talk about a new recipe I made up the other night: Goat Cheese, Spinach, Sausage, and Mushroom Stuffed Shells with a homemade Alfredo Sauce.
But how do I do that? Writing the recipe down isn't all that exciting, even if you do like to cook. Sometimes the greatest challenging is, ahem, "spicing up" the most mundane of sequences with enough detail and action to make each sequence interesting enough to hold the reader's interest.
I could write about the step-by-step process of the recipe, or simply say I cooked it. But both would be very passive and uninteresting. One is overloaded with detail; the other lacking.
Instead, I engaged in a dazzling display of culinary prowess. One hot summer afternoon, with my stomach growling incessantly for a meal, I was suddenly struck by inspiration. By combining the soft creaminess of goat cheese, the aromatic spices of hot sausage, the freshness of new spinach, and the mellow flavor of portobello mushrooms, I could create a delicious new pasta dish. And when topped with a homemade alfredo sauce to accent its creamy flavor, it would be truly fantastic.
Idea in hand, the kitchen became a flurry of activity, soon filling with the aroma of frying sausage and sauteed vegetables. Juggling pots and pans, mixing bowls and utensils, and chopping ingredients, soon I had labored to produce my goal: One pan with a delicious, smooth filling of goat cheese, sausage, spinach, and mushrooms, and another, simmering a mouth-watering combination of heavy cream, butter, and cheese. After but a few moments of adding spinach and mushrooms to the alfredo sauce, and rolling a lump of goat cheese into each shell, I had created a dish fit for kings!
It was ready for the final step: to be baked, each shell carefully topped with alfredo and a fine layer of grated cheese. A few, but interminable minutes later, I pulled my bubbling concoction from the oven, the intense heat the only thing keeping me from eating it straight from the pan.
And after stuffing myself with far more than I should have, I realized that the most difficult task of all still awaited me! No, not writing about it on my blog, as you may believe! It was doing the dishes - but no one wants to read about that!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
A Old Perspective from a New Source
Don't miss my post that I put up last night, but here is an fascinating Op Ed by Fouad Ajami concerning the state of the Arabic World. It reminds me in some ways of what I understand the Soviet Union was like near the end, except with leaders who use a religious hard-line to maintain order, instead of a loyalty to the state. It will be interesting to see which one of the two can last longer, although historically, religion has always survived longer than any state.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Taxing ourselves into prosperity,,, and better health.
Here it is: the culmination of the administration's economic policies. Heck, even this heavily biased NYTimes op-ed ends with:
“There is no way we can pay for health care and the rest of the Obama agenda, plus get our long-term deficits under control, simply by raising taxes on the wealthy,” said Isabel V. Sawhill, a former Clinton administration budget official. “The middle class is going to have to contribute as well.”
If that wasn't enough, this article appeared on the healthcare reform initiative going through Congress. Nothing like burning the candle at both ends... and when that fails to illuminate the situation, you can always curse about how we got here. Even if it seems pathetic and unhelpful, at least you feel better. And isn't that what's important?
Perhaps that is overly sarcastic.
I do find it important to consider all of these issues, and I am most likely preaching to the choir, if I know anything about my readership. I just always find it unfortunate that there exists a serious disconnect between how people expect themselves to react and how others react. For examples, see socialism and game theory. Of course, ignoring how people feel can end badly, too.
And I'm obviously not that pessimistic, as I bought some stocks tonight. But maybe I'm just making some poor assumptions.
“There is no way we can pay for health care and the rest of the Obama agenda, plus get our long-term deficits under control, simply by raising taxes on the wealthy,” said Isabel V. Sawhill, a former Clinton administration budget official. “The middle class is going to have to contribute as well.”
If that wasn't enough, this article appeared on the healthcare reform initiative going through Congress. Nothing like burning the candle at both ends... and when that fails to illuminate the situation, you can always curse about how we got here. Even if it seems pathetic and unhelpful, at least you feel better. And isn't that what's important?
Perhaps that is overly sarcastic.
I do find it important to consider all of these issues, and I am most likely preaching to the choir, if I know anything about my readership. I just always find it unfortunate that there exists a serious disconnect between how people expect themselves to react and how others react. For examples, see socialism and game theory. Of course, ignoring how people feel can end badly, too.
And I'm obviously not that pessimistic, as I bought some stocks tonight. But maybe I'm just making some poor assumptions.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Good Game, Bad Game...
This weekend has been pretty busy so far, and it is going to keep that way. Normally, I would try to be a little more productive over the weekend, but this weekend is filled to the brim with activities.
To wit, I hosted a poker party for some friends last night. It was a small crowd - 6 of us - really just the perfect size for a poker game. I grabbed some great BBQ from a local dive that just opened last week (and which I discovered completely by accident), and we enjoyed a very relaxed couple of games while chowing down.
We played Texas Hold 'Em and a variant called Blind Man's Bluff, which I personally find very entertaining. For those who know how to play Texas Hold 'Em, Blind Man's Bluff is played exactly the same way, with one distinct difference: each player holds his (or her) hand on his forehead, and never actually sees his cards. It's a great variant for mixing up the game a bit and is a ton of fun.
Of course, it also helps that won our Blind Man's Bluff game, so that might skew my opinion of it a bit.
But not all the games I've played this weekend have been so satisfying: I finished a video game I've been working on for the last couple weeks called Prince of Persia.
Now, some of you might not care so much about video games, but bear with me, as the game has shown me some good insight into my own writing:
The series itself is well known as being of high quality, and the production values on this game are no less superb. It features a beautiful soundtrack and gorgeous graphics that look like a mix of high quality sketches and watercolor paintings. The two main characters, "The Prince" (you) and Elika, are likable, well-defined, and have plenty of clever dialogue, as well as a good chemistry.
So what exactly, is lacking in the game? What lessons might one take from it, especially an aspiring writer? Well, for starters, when I play a game, I usually look for two main components: a) a good challenge, and b) an engrossing world/story. Unfortunately, the game's goal is the agent of its own destruction: This new version of Prince of Persia is designed with the Nintendo Wii generation in mind. That is, to be simple and easy enough to be accessible to all.
And this is where I saw a parallel to my own writing and something I think has been the biggest improvement in the edits that I have been working on - in order to keep things simple and moving along quickly, the rest of the world never gets the same treatment that "The Prince" and Elika do. Never the same development. You understand their quest, but you aren't attached to it. Nothing special distinguishes each location other than a variant color palette (each place is actually different looking, but for all intents and purposes, plays exactly the same). And although I am always a fan of simple, intuitive controls, the simplicity of it and absolute zero death penalty makes it so you never feel like you are really challenging yourself or developing your skill. Although "The Prince" is extremely acrobatic and does plenty of fantastic moves, you never feel like you are the one performing them, or that you somehow, by improving your play, can do something someone else cannot. This was a striking parallel to some of the weakest parts of my book: an amorphous, almost intangible place that poses some amorphous, intangible risk. To keep things moving, I kept things too vague and simple. You want to care, but because the world hasn't been better defined, you cannot. It really was a fascinating look into the downfall of trying to keep everything overly simple.
But I stuck with the game, as I really liked the characters, and there is some element of fun (it is a game), despite the challenge truly being almost zero. When I say zero death penalty, I mean "ZERO DEATH PENALTY". If you jump off a cliff to your doom, Elika's magic immediately rescues you and teleports you back to her. If an enemy is about to kill you, Elika's magic knocks the enemy back and prevents your untimely death. No matter what situation arises, Elika has a solution, and her magic, NEVER, EVER runs out. I literally searched the game for a way to kill my characters just so that I could feel like there was some element of challenge and that The Prince has more to offer than just witty banter. Alas, my efforts were to no avail.
And then, the game commited the most grevious of sins - after all the effort (time, really - you can't die, but you still have to run everywhere), it gave me a BAD ENDING! And when I say bad, I don't mean bad as in poorly written (it is actually a unique ending for a game, and raises an interesting moral question). I mean bad, as in the bad guy wins and does it by having The Prince help him. You don't even get a choice - no, after fighting to keep the evil god Airhiman imprisoned all game, The Prince undos all your work in about two minutes to save Elika, thus allowing the Airhiman to escape and win. Very unsatisfying.
But then it got worse. I made the mistake of thinking that, like most other games (including prior Prince of Persia games), I failed to collect all the stupid "Light Seeds" that appear in the levels, and thus didn't have enough power to save Elika. Surely, if I were to devote the time to collect every single one, I would have the power to change my fate!
No, collect all ONE THOUSAND flippin' Light Seeds and you still FAIL. Curse you, Ubisoft - Curse you for all time!
So, what did I get for my efforts, you ask? The ability to play through the game again in a different outfit!
And also I arrived at the realization that one should never, ever, have your main character sacrifice everything to save the love interest when said love interest would hate his guts for doing it and by making said sacrifice undo everything else that was achieved in the game.
OK, so I already knew that and it isn't really applicable to my writing, but still! And again I curse the name Ubisoft, once respected developer of Prince of Persia.
So now you know - it's not all fun and games this weekend. Video games are hard work!
To wit, I hosted a poker party for some friends last night. It was a small crowd - 6 of us - really just the perfect size for a poker game. I grabbed some great BBQ from a local dive that just opened last week (and which I discovered completely by accident), and we enjoyed a very relaxed couple of games while chowing down.
We played Texas Hold 'Em and a variant called Blind Man's Bluff, which I personally find very entertaining. For those who know how to play Texas Hold 'Em, Blind Man's Bluff is played exactly the same way, with one distinct difference: each player holds his (or her) hand on his forehead, and never actually sees his cards. It's a great variant for mixing up the game a bit and is a ton of fun.
Of course, it also helps that won our Blind Man's Bluff game, so that might skew my opinion of it a bit.
But not all the games I've played this weekend have been so satisfying: I finished a video game I've been working on for the last couple weeks called Prince of Persia.
Now, some of you might not care so much about video games, but bear with me, as the game has shown me some good insight into my own writing:
The series itself is well known as being of high quality, and the production values on this game are no less superb. It features a beautiful soundtrack and gorgeous graphics that look like a mix of high quality sketches and watercolor paintings. The two main characters, "The Prince" (you) and Elika, are likable, well-defined, and have plenty of clever dialogue, as well as a good chemistry.
So what exactly, is lacking in the game? What lessons might one take from it, especially an aspiring writer? Well, for starters, when I play a game, I usually look for two main components: a) a good challenge, and b) an engrossing world/story. Unfortunately, the game's goal is the agent of its own destruction: This new version of Prince of Persia is designed with the Nintendo Wii generation in mind. That is, to be simple and easy enough to be accessible to all.
And this is where I saw a parallel to my own writing and something I think has been the biggest improvement in the edits that I have been working on - in order to keep things simple and moving along quickly, the rest of the world never gets the same treatment that "The Prince" and Elika do. Never the same development. You understand their quest, but you aren't attached to it. Nothing special distinguishes each location other than a variant color palette (each place is actually different looking, but for all intents and purposes, plays exactly the same). And although I am always a fan of simple, intuitive controls, the simplicity of it and absolute zero death penalty makes it so you never feel like you are really challenging yourself or developing your skill. Although "The Prince" is extremely acrobatic and does plenty of fantastic moves, you never feel like you are the one performing them, or that you somehow, by improving your play, can do something someone else cannot. This was a striking parallel to some of the weakest parts of my book: an amorphous, almost intangible place that poses some amorphous, intangible risk. To keep things moving, I kept things too vague and simple. You want to care, but because the world hasn't been better defined, you cannot. It really was a fascinating look into the downfall of trying to keep everything overly simple.
But I stuck with the game, as I really liked the characters, and there is some element of fun (it is a game), despite the challenge truly being almost zero. When I say zero death penalty, I mean "ZERO DEATH PENALTY". If you jump off a cliff to your doom, Elika's magic immediately rescues you and teleports you back to her. If an enemy is about to kill you, Elika's magic knocks the enemy back and prevents your untimely death. No matter what situation arises, Elika has a solution, and her magic, NEVER, EVER runs out. I literally searched the game for a way to kill my characters just so that I could feel like there was some element of challenge and that The Prince has more to offer than just witty banter. Alas, my efforts were to no avail.
And then, the game commited the most grevious of sins - after all the effort (time, really - you can't die, but you still have to run everywhere), it gave me a BAD ENDING! And when I say bad, I don't mean bad as in poorly written (it is actually a unique ending for a game, and raises an interesting moral question). I mean bad, as in the bad guy wins and does it by having The Prince help him. You don't even get a choice - no, after fighting to keep the evil god Airhiman imprisoned all game, The Prince undos all your work in about two minutes to save Elika, thus allowing the Airhiman to escape and win. Very unsatisfying.
But then it got worse. I made the mistake of thinking that, like most other games (including prior Prince of Persia games), I failed to collect all the stupid "Light Seeds" that appear in the levels, and thus didn't have enough power to save Elika. Surely, if I were to devote the time to collect every single one, I would have the power to change my fate!
No, collect all ONE THOUSAND flippin' Light Seeds and you still FAIL. Curse you, Ubisoft - Curse you for all time!
So, what did I get for my efforts, you ask? The ability to play through the game again in a different outfit!
And also I arrived at the realization that one should never, ever, have your main character sacrifice everything to save the love interest when said love interest would hate his guts for doing it and by making said sacrifice undo everything else that was achieved in the game.
OK, so I already knew that and it isn't really applicable to my writing, but still! And again I curse the name Ubisoft, once respected developer of Prince of Persia.
So now you know - it's not all fun and games this weekend. Video games are hard work!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
