I am tired and I start rehearsals tomorrow and haven’t started memorizing in earnest yet because I finally booted up Stardew Valley on Switch and I’ve got a new save file that’s starting its first summer off right and I don’t know if I’m going to marry any of the townsfolk or just take care of all the elderly characters, get the singles to fall in love with me and then move in with Krobus. Anyway here’s MechaMon.
Today’s mechanic has been kicking around for a bit, and has mostly been passed over for a post because it’s kind of inherently goofy. I was buzzedly rambling to some folks this past weekend about how “games writing” is the hot new scramble for would-be playwrights in the same way that voiceover is going to magically make every improviser I know super-rich, but that games writing is more interesting to look at for its emergent narrative potential than as screenwriting 2.0. For playwrights in particular - come on! You come from a writing tradition that is forever clawing its way out of sepulchral vacuum. Let the novelists script out the static blocks of text; steal and adapt Brecht’s theatre-sports experience design concepts and make something that will take over the player’s heart and mind.
Anyway here’s a stupid idea that kind of reads like Twister with your hands lol
Fingers as Pawns
In GREEM, actions are claimed by the fingers of your dominant hand, and resources are tracked by the fingers of your non-dominant hand. Only one finger may be moved at a time; all other fingers must be able to remain in place. Attempting to do this and failing results in the loss of an action and a reset to the previous state. Players begin with only one pawn and only one resource, but unlock/purchase more as the game goes along. The game ends when a player maxes out their track on three resources.
Ok, so… yes. This is dumb and dextrous and bonkers and vague. But honestly, that’s a less interesting design challenge to me than this is: It’s an inherently unequal game. The size of a player’s hands, the flexibility of their digits, both of these represent an innate disparity in player potential that is generally sought-after in sport but disdained in tabletop. And how to account for players with a number of extremities different than the norm? Is it acceptable to agree to play to a player’s literal handicap? Could this game be more adaptive than it is? And does that run with or against the aforementioned natural inequality between players?
Big questions! No answers. Gotta get that maple syrup so I can make a beehive. Good talk everyone, see you next week.
Today’s mechanic has been kicking around for a bit, and has mostly been passed over for a post because it’s kind of inherently goofy. I was buzzedly rambling to some folks this past weekend about how “games writing” is the hot new scramble for would-be playwrights in the same way that voiceover is going to magically make every improviser I know super-rich, but that games writing is more interesting to look at for its emergent narrative potential than as screenwriting 2.0. For playwrights in particular - come on! You come from a writing tradition that is forever clawing its way out of sepulchral vacuum. Let the novelists script out the static blocks of text; steal and adapt Brecht’s theatre-sports experience design concepts and make something that will take over the player’s heart and mind.
Anyway here’s a stupid idea that kind of reads like Twister with your hands lol
Fingers as Pawns
In GREEM, actions are claimed by the fingers of your dominant hand, and resources are tracked by the fingers of your non-dominant hand. Only one finger may be moved at a time; all other fingers must be able to remain in place. Attempting to do this and failing results in the loss of an action and a reset to the previous state. Players begin with only one pawn and only one resource, but unlock/purchase more as the game goes along. The game ends when a player maxes out their track on three resources.
Ok, so… yes. This is dumb and dextrous and bonkers and vague. But honestly, that’s a less interesting design challenge to me than this is: It’s an inherently unequal game. The size of a player’s hands, the flexibility of their digits, both of these represent an innate disparity in player potential that is generally sought-after in sport but disdained in tabletop. And how to account for players with a number of extremities different than the norm? Is it acceptable to agree to play to a player’s literal handicap? Could this game be more adaptive than it is? And does that run with or against the aforementioned natural inequality between players?
Big questions! No answers. Gotta get that maple syrup so I can make a beehive. Good talk everyone, see you next week.
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