Novel Gamer commentary: Lashings of Ginger Beer / The Not-so-Famous Four do Hallowe'en

Sometimes the games I'm asked to review as Novel Gamer give me the opportunity for some real wish-fulfilment. Costume Quest was one such opportunity, reminding me as it did of the stories of youthful adventure I hungrily consumed as a child; stories which also, ultimately, inspired me to become a writer and teller of stories.

I had two major influences to which Costume Quest spoke. One was a lifetime love of the Peanuts strips writtem by Charles M. Schulz. I still find that Snoopy, Charlie Brown and the gang provide a wisdom and insight into the adult world which is remarkably accessible to young readers. Something about the humour and kinship in Costume Quest made me feel like I was in a Peanuts strip of my own.

The other influence was Enid Blyton's much-loved stories and in particular The Secret Seven and the Famous Five. The idea of child heroes taking on forces which were far beyond them and having to operate within the confines of an adult-ruled world rang true with Costume Quest's adventures.

However, it was the culture shock element of Costume Quest which really informed the story. Hallowe'en is not as big a festival in the UK as in the United States, although it is certainly popular. The strange contrast of being a Brit and playing such a celebration of Hallowe'en made me think of the clash between Peanut's world and the Famous Five and so I decided to write a story about some very old-fashioned British children being brought face-to-face with their American counterparts.

Ultimately, Costume Quest is a great game at any time of the year and I hope that the adventures I re-imagined in the Novel Gamer show are a fitting tribute, as well as an entertaining yarn. You can read the original story review and hear the podcast on GamePeople.

Novel Gamer commentary: A gap year with poor communication / Rupert's Safari

The Novel Gamer column often falls into one of two different camps. Sometimes the stories are parallels, hardly recognisable for the game that inspired them until the reviewing point I was trying to make is revealed. On the other hand it can be viewed as a kind of fan fiction. Writing an experience within the game world from the perspective of the player's character. This fan fiction approach was definitely the best way I found to explore my review of Monster Hunter Tri (Wii).

This usually happens with games that a: I find flawed and b: games that take themselves too seriously. A game that is very self-knowing and open to poking fun at itself is hard to parody and if I like a game then the desire to poke fun isn't there.

The story I wrote about Monster Hunter Tri reflected my disappointment with the game. With glorious landscapes, mythical creatures and adventure, it was meant to be the perfect getaway - like an exotic holiday. It made me think of the disappointment often experienced when holidays do not meet our requirements. With the no-frills mucking-in approach of the player, combined with the trendy tribal tattoos, for some reason I found myself thinking of a well-heeled Brit on a gap year, searching the world for the best experiences. This was also added to by the instinctive middle-class distaste I felt for the process of killing animals for sport. And so, Rupert was born.

My frustration with the game was largely due to the incredibly frustration Wii Speak peripheral: a factor that, to this day, still continues to put me off playing the game. In testing the multiplayer aspect of Monster Hunter, I enlisted the help of my excellent gaming buddy The_Killa_Bunny. I should point out that while the section with Zara is based on our experiences together, The_Killa_Bunny is not at all like Zara and is much nicer!

I think this one is a very entertaining story in its own right, while still being a fair critique of the game. Certainly I think anybody who plays Monster Hunter will be able to recognise much of what takes place. The original story and podcast can be found at http://www.gamepeople.co.uk/novel_wii_monsterhuntertri.htm.

Novel Gamer commentary: Sex 'n' drugs 'n' Barrel-Rolls / Starfox Command Remembered

Starfox Command (DS) was where the Novel Gamer column began for me. I'd been talking with GamePeople about doing some writing for them. They review games from a number of perspective, including an "artistic" way which provides some great options for reflecting on a game.

With Starfox Comand, it wasn't so much the game itself I wanted to write about, but how I felt about it. It was a couple of years old by then, but the game was a classic - to me. I couldn't help but think that loads of people knew about the Starfox series but didn't appreciate how good Starfox Command actually was. So much so that I would actually say that it is the best Starfox game I have played.

I'm also really into music and it reminded me of the way a band with a long career often has albums from the distant past that have been overlooked in favour of glossy new compilations or an over-nostalgic reverence for the first release. It led me to thinking about telling Starfox Command's story as if Fox McCloud were an ageing rocker, being interviewed about past records in advance of a comeback tour.

The idea sat pretty well with me and I'm pleased to say that the opening episode of Novel Gamer almost perfectly crystallises everything I wanted to achieve with the show. The original story and podcast can be found at http://www.gamepeople.co.uk/novel_ds_starfoxcommand.htm

Novel Gamer Season 1 commentary

I write for GamePeople.co.uk under the name Novel Gamer. The basic concept was: rather than write standard critical reviews, I would try and express my thoughts about the experience of the game, or the reaction the game caused for me.

The name also refers to the way the reviews are presented as short stories. Taking the form of an allegory, Novel Gamer opens up a unique view into the world of a game. Sometimes seen as fan fiction, other times seen as an absurdist view of gaming and occasionally striking real entertainment gold. The first series of Novel Gamer ran for 20 episodes with podcast readings of the stories recorded by myself.

Over the next few weeks I'd like to look back at these stories and revisit why I wrote them the way I did. More soon.

Novel Gamer Episode Eight - Pilotwings Resort, or "Learning to fly"

This is the eighth episode of the popular online alternative review column "Novel Gamer", part of Game People, which specialises in real world, alternative and artistic reviews. Don't forget that a podcast is also available from the source of this article, here.

This week, awoken by a mysterious message on his computer screen, an invitation leads Geo to a waterside warehouse where he must ask himself: does the Matrix have him? Or is the truth about the other side of the screen far more incredible?

This weeks' Novel Gamer review is based on reactions to a pre-release launch experience of PilotWings and is a preview, than a review based on a full assessment of the game.

...Wake up Geo

That was what the monitor screen said. It's appearance, unbidden, on my display had woken me from my light slumber as I lay on my couch with my DS on my chest. The battery had obviously died some time before. I was so tired when I had been playing I actually had no idea what I had been doing or what progress I may have lost.

At least I thought the text on the screen had appeared. I could picture it, but now the screen was blank. I half remembered that actually that was the beginning of a movie, so maybe it hadn't happened at all?

I stumbled into the kitchen, drew a glass of water, tipped some cereal into a bowl and sat down. The milk looked okay and I'd only bought it a couple of days before, but I still unscrewed the cap and gave the contents a sniff, automatically. Some habits you just get used to.

That day -- more than any other day -- I was strangely aware of my senses. The floor, between the kitchen table and the fridge had a slightly tacky patch. Not actually sticky, but maybe a place where a spill had once happened and been cleaned up, leaving only the faintest of adhesive traces. One end of the room seemed slightly darker, as though perhaps the bulb on that side of the fitting was on its way out. Condensation had formed on the tap spout where the cold water had escaped its confines for the alternative comforts of my glass.

There could be any number of reasons for my heightened feelings on that day. But, the reason I prefer to cling to is because that was the day I was about to have my eyes opened to a new world.

I've always been a gamer. From my earliest memories I recall slipping into an alternative world of adventure and intrigue on the other side of the screen. For me games have always enabled me to lose myself in an alternative reality. Much more than film with its fixed view on the action and its set narrative. The only other route I have ever found as effective for escaping from this world is books. It's not for everyone, but for the confident reader the barrier of the ink on the page melts away and the words and ideas are transported directly into the brain; to fire the imagination and to create a witness eye view on events that are unique to the reader.

The problem with games has been the thing it shares with film: the screen. In spite of its ability to display incredible vistas, gravity-defying moves, heart-breaking empathy and deep intrigue, it is the screen that reminds us we are trapped. Trapped in a world of mundanity, tethered to practicality and shackled to domestic limitation.

The screen gives us window into a world that is more alive and that accepts fewer excuses for what "cannot be done" within the bounds of physical reality.

That day was the day a man came who took the barrier away and enabled me to soar in the skies, as I used to in my childhood dreams.


If I could not be sure that I had seen the cryptic movie pastiche on my monitor I was in little doubt as to the reality of the card that had been pushed through my door.

It was clearly meant to serve as a business- or calling-card; however, it's dimensions were more reminiscent of a playing card. That certainly grabbed my attention. It featured a simple "?" mark.

I turned the card over, half anticipating something from the world of literary cliché: the ace of spades maybe, or the Tarot figure of Death grinning up at me. Instead, the reverse of the card featured a simple typed message: a local address and a time.

Looking at my watch I saw that I had just enough time to get ready and get to this meeting. There could be no question of my not following this invitation. Not only was the "?" mark on the card reminiscent of the prize boxes in Super Mario, but I couldn't help but think that if I had slept any longer I would not have been able to make this appointment; I thought back to those ghostly words on my screen.

I walked down to the docks. The address I had been given was for a waterfront warehouse, next to a small cafe. I decided I had no time for a tea break and headed inside. I was too excited about the wonder of this invitation to delay.

In the centre of the room stood a tall, imposing man in a long, black, leather coat. Beside him on a table was what appeared to be a Nintendo DS.

"Welcome, Geo" the man intoned. "I am glad to meet you. I believe that you are a man with a problem. A problem I hope to solve."

I nodded my head, "you're talking about the games."

"I'm talking about the reality you create for yourself, Geo. You who have always loved the excitement of exploring other worlds and doing things that no person could hope to experience in reality but who always feels like you are kept on the outside. Are you ready to go deeper into the game?"

I frowned, trying to understand. "You're talking about increased immersion?"

He replied, quickly, "I'm talking about reality, Geo. What is real? If real is what you can feel, smell, taste and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain. If you can convince your brain that an image you are seeing is in three dimensions -- 'appears' solid -- then who is to say it is not real?"

He held up his hand dramatically and I could see that he was holding a pair of old-style 3D glasses, with coloured lenses. "You have a choice," he announced, "look through the blue lens and you will see the world as it has always been, flat and dull ... ummm..." he faltered, "and looking a bit blue..."

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. The dramatic mood had been broken.

He continued unabated, "look through the red lens and you'll see, well, exactly the same thing." I think he sensed he was losing me, as he went on, hurriedly, "but if you look through both -- here's the thing -- it also changes nothing! What I am about to show you doesn't require glasses." He threw them over his shoulder and they landed in a puddle of water leaked from somewhere high in the ceiling.

He opened up the machine on the table. "This," he declared, "is the Nintendo 3DS and it will show you a world of which you have only dreamed." He stuck out a hand towards me, palm up, "the card, please."

I reached into my pocket and recovered the calling-card that had been pushed through my door. As I placed the card down on the table, "?" mark facing up, he handed me the 3DS and I focused on the image of the card on the screen. It wasn't like looking through a camera lens. It was like seeing the table in front of me with fresh eyes. A 3D viewport onto the world as it is. Then the 3DS showed me the world as it could be: the card unfurled, revealing a deep recess in the table. A dragon head on a long neck extended out and toward me.


I was reeling, "but this is incredible!" I called out.

"Patience, Geo," he said, raising a hand "I agree this is impressive, but the dragon is only to demonstrate that the world is not necessarily as you see it. Let me show you what you are really here to see; what you really came to do..."

*****

I felt myself soaring high above the ground, floating over the sea and onward, ever toward my target. The clouds parted and I saw the world laid out before me. It was like the world, only at the same time not like it. It wasn't drab, grey and mundane -- this was a world inhabited by living colour as though the sea was trying to be as blue as it could be and the grass exerting itself to be the greenest grass the world had ever seen.

The world was so ... if I had to settle for a word, I'd have to go with 'real'. Not the kind of real I expected. It was not our world reproduced on the screen. If anything it was the reverse. It was as though the world of the games had been made solid and brought into our reality. Before, these places had always seemed like colourful sketches in some framed picture I could never enter. Now they lived and breathed in three dimensions and it was like seeing a cartoon hero come to life.

The flying itself was breathtaking. The ease with which I could soar through floating rings seemed to come naturally to my fingers and I glided over the beautiful island paradise and landed the aircraft gently on the waves exactly as I had been taught.

The dream changed and I found myself hanging in the sky, held aloft by a jetpack. It was a fun variation on the controls required by the plane and I propelled myself forward, through balloons onward towards the goal.


The dream changed once more -- now I was whooshing over the mountaintop, suspended from a hang-glider. The world was so deep and so intense and I wanted to explore every part of it, but I felt myself being pulled away.

I blinked and found myself back in the room with the stranger.

"How was it?" he asked me.

"I feel," I struggled to find the words, "I feel like I've held a world in my hands, a world that I can enter whenever I choose and fly over, under, through and across. I want to explore every inch of that world from my vantage point in the sky. It felt real. It was almost too deep. Sometimes I felt like the gulf of depth was too massive and I wanted it to feel a bit flatter... incredible."

I rubbed at my eyelids, "why do my eyes hurt?"

The figure looked at me poignantly, "because you've never used them before."

I made to pick up the Nintendo 3DS again. I desperately wanted to fly some more.

He stopped me. "That is all you can see for now. It is time for you to return home."

I was incredulous, "but I've just seen the most incredible things! I've seen the world of games as it could be and I'm not sure if I can return to the other side of the screen! I want to spend more time here and see more and fly more..."

He nodded, kindly, "the world you seek is coming soon, Geo. It is only a few short weeks away and you will be able to return to the real side of the screen again. For now, you must spread the word that others may be enlightened."

*****

My alarm clock beeped loudly and I awoke. I could hear the rain lashing against the glass.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and, in doing so, I remembered the adventure with the Nintendo 3DS. I remembered getting my pilot wings and soaring high above the ground.

I looked out of the window and could see blue sky breaking between the grey clouds. I had had the most incredible adventure, journeyed to a colourful world and flown... and then had it taken away before I was ready; before I had had a chance to see it all.

The memory felt like the aftertaste of a sweet dessert in my mouth. In my heart I knew I was desperate to fly again. It had all felt so real to me.

It couldn't have been a dream, could it?