Reviews by OtisTDog

What this game lacks in plot, puzzles, and punctuation, it makes up with a simple earnestness and a fortuitous brevity. Navigating the simple linear path through 8 or so rooms nearly devoid of implemented objects is an exercise in perseverance and a relatively lightweight one at that.

There doesn't seem to be much here; figuring out the directions linking rooms together seems to be the biggest challenge on your way to the end location. You'll find a few letters of encouragement and an apparently unnecessary lantern on the way, but there are no obstacles to overcome or reasons to care about getting there.

This is an Inform 7 6G60 release, so I'm guessing this is a first time effort by someone who has read the opening chapters of "Writing with Inform." I encourage the author to read the rest of the Inform 7 manual as well as Coyne's First-Timer Foibles, because it's clear that the imaginative seeds of something much grander are already on display here. All that's needed is more patience and polish to produce something worth playing.

I'm generally not one for keyword-driven stories, which emulate the kind of interactivity you would find in hypertext. I've always felt that that type of interaction was inherently limiting; with all the connections drawn out for the reader, there isn't much interactivity to be had other than by exploring the graph that defines the story's structure.

That said, when considered with respect to some of the more railroaded story-oriented IF out there, it actually demonstrates some comparative benefits. No chance for hunt-the-verb, hunt-the-noun, synonym sickness, or many of the other opportunities for failure that "standard" IF offers. Non-interactive NPCs seem less of an affront when the illusion of free conversation isn't even presented. So maybe there's a natural fit between this format and an all-story, no-puzzles work.

As far as plot goes, this piece is short but very interesting. In the minutes it takes to play it, the author managed to interject some surprising ideas about the mindset of the protagonist -- things that I did not expect or consider but which are immediately obvious when pointed out, things which demonstrate that the author has put some time and effort into crafting the fictional world created. (Spoiler - click to show)I especially like the way some of the ideas are revealed through characterization; the response to "mirror" in the exercise room packs a lot into a few words. The short plot and ambiguous ending practically beg for a more thorough exploration of this fictional world.

This was the first work of the author's that I've ever tried, and it left me favorably inclined to try others. Worth the time if you are seeking a quick diversion.

This is the kind of speed IF that makes the whole idea worthwhile.

This particular competition (Speed IF Jacket 2) seems to have had a looser timeline than most, with license of up to a week given by the organizer and an IFMUD post indicating that entries were still being accepted a month after the official kickoff. I don't know how long Mr. Ashwell (who was the organizer) spent creating this work, but the original poem in the introductory sequence makes it obvious that Ugly Chapter is no rush job from a writing perspective.

This work quickly convinces you that it's going to be something very different and very good. In just a few short moves, Ashwell's masterful writing brings into focus the extremely inventive narrative framework he created in which to tell this story, while outlining enough features of the setting to show that he's invested some thought into making it all hang together.

There's a certain style of writing that I love, in which the author spends little or no time on formal exposition and instead builds up a picture through details. It's a difficult trick, but when done right, this literary pointillism gives the reader the vivid impression that he or she is looking through a window at a complete and consistent universe; the individual dots begin to merge into a coherent whole. Ugly Chapter pulls this off almost offhandedly, while it's busy snaring the player's attention with expertly crafted replies to the usual opening moves, replies that quickly make it clear that 1) this game will not have a "you" in in it in the conventional sense of IF, and 2) that won't reduce your enjoyment of the work one bit.

Ugly Chapter is an excellent use of the interactive fiction medium, conscripting even the parser interface into the service of making clear what's happening as the story unfolds. Once the method by which this story is ostensibly being conveyed starts to sink in, the player is quickly railroaded to the conclusion(Spoiler - click to show), before the novelty of the reader/player simultaneously experiencing "being" both the trapped protagonist and the pathos-inspiring narrator wears off.

I would not qualify this piece as a comedy, it's more like poetry. Perhaps what's most remarkable is the way that this work so dramatically exceeds the threshold of expectation set by Speed IF Jacket 2's structure: Authors were given a set of fictional, out-of-context blurbs -- each created by a different participant and given to one other -- and were supposed to create a work to which they would apply.

It's an interesting variation on the random-seed-ideas premise; instead of X components, authors are given X perceptions. As you might expect, many blurbs were silly. A silly piece in response would be entirely expected and appropriate. A story of this quality in response is astounding; Ashwell makes the pretend blurbs seem silly in an entirely new way.

Without knowing the development time, it's hard to say whether this should truly be considered speed IF. Either way, I'm glad I didn't miss it.

After reading the fake newspaper provided as a virtual feelie for The Weapon, I was already hooked by the work's fictional universe and eager to see what the story would be. A few turns of experimentation showed that the protagonist had an interestingly different internal monologue, while the fairly convincing NPC who is your main antagonist provided some clues to the situation at hand. Sean Barrett's expert writing subtly (and, if need be, directly) clues you in that this will be a game of cat-and-mouse, that you will be the one providing the misdirection alluded to in the tagline.

At the point where the NPC asks you her first question, I took a cue from the protagonist's apparently close-mouthed nature and tried the command "nod". It was tremendously pleasing to see a realistic response. After the number of clunkier pieces I've reviewed lately, it was refreshing to see a work composed with such forethought and attention to detail.

I won't go into the details of the game, but this was definitely the best "hard SF" piece that I've played since Infocom's Starcross. As with Starcross, the logic of the puzzles was grounded in realism and did not require any feats of mind-reading to solve. In fact, one of the most remarkable aspects of this piece is the number of well-crafted puzzles that the author, Sean Barrett, manages to wring out of the relatively few moving parts implemented. It's like a haiku -- all the non-essentials are stripped away, and what's left really works.

The flipside of this is that the interaction lacks some of the meatiness that would be welcomed in such an intriguing game world. I found myself wishing for the ask/tell model of conversation just so I could pump Cheryl for information about the things mentioned in the feelie.(Spoiler - click to show) While the ending does not leave room for a sequel, I would have been very interested to see another story written in this setting. On the whole, however, I think Mr. Barrett's sense of balance is exactly right; more details might simply have diluted the experience and reduced the level of focus the current writing inspires. It says something about how engrossing I found The Weapon to be that I had nearly reached the end of it before I realized it was going to be a one-room game.

The Weapon took most of an evening of on-and-off play to complete; total length is probably about right for the IF Comp, though it seems this piece was not entered when it was released in 2001. While it made finalist for Best NPC and Best Puzzles in the 2001 Xyzzy Awards, it did not win in either category.

I teetered back and forth between 3 and 4 stars for this and ultimately decided on 4, on the grounds of its exceptionally thorough implementation, nearly frictionless gameplay, and memorable characterization and story. This is a great introductory piece of IF for sci-fi lovers, and I would heartily recommend it to anyone who likes the genre.

The first speed IF competition emerged as a sort of spontaneous affair, it's genesis on IFMUD (preserved for all time over at IFWiki) looks a lot like a transcript from "Whose Line Is It, Anyway?" Beginning with the ridiculously short development timeline of 15 minutes, it was extended in stages to two hours, at which point David Cornelson, the inventor of the concept, released Coffins. [edit: Yikes! It has been gently pointed out to me that Christopher Huang is the author of Coffins, as should have been obvious to me based on what I linked to above. That's what I get for writing while too tired.] It was the only submission.

This seminal moment might have passed unnoticed, but, about 4 weeks later, on the eve of Halloween 1998, Cornelson organized another challenge like it, and a new phenomenon in the world of IF began to take root. Dan Shiovitz participated in this event, now known as Speed IF 2, and he was one of three people other than Cornelson [edit: Again, that should read "Huang", not "Cornelson"] to submit a finished work.

This piece, with its ridiculously long title, reads like a kind of gleeful, drunken attempt to make up a ghost story on the fly while sitting at the campfire after a long day of hiking, sun, and beer. It's silly, and it's fun, and it's a good time, but it's hard to call the result a story. Nonetheless, it made me laugh, and it only takes a few minutes to play, so I'd recommend it to anyone on the grounds of its historical and comedic value.

Since I don't share Dan Shiovitz's dismay over beholders, I thought I'd give Sparrow's Song a try. Having never experienced the work of J. D. Berry before, I was pleasantly surprised by the overall quality of this piece, which was entered into Emily Short's SmoochieComp in 2001.

Although the presence of the beholder implies the story is grounded in the universe of Dungeons & Dragons, nothing else does. While it was interesting to see what Berry thinks the personality of one of these iconic monsters is, there was no compelling reason I discovered that the being in question had to be a beholder. For story purposes, it could just as easily have been a demon, or even a grizzled old veteran. It's a rare and unexpected failure of originality in this otherwise highly creative work.

The writing often has a certain poetic and lyrical quality to it that I found compelling, though on occasion the similes were a bit forced. The author has a way of adeptly conjuring huge swaths of history and exposition by sending your imagination soaring along suggested lines. The universe feels more complete by virtue of what you imagine being unchallenged by the text, which actually provides very little information about the world the protagonist inhabits.

When I first finished Sparrow's Song, I was a little confused. It seemed like much of what was implemented in the first half of the story had no relevance to either the central plot or the theme. For a while, I speculated that maybe this was a partially-finished work that had been adapted for entry into SmoochieComp by grafting on a storyline about love. However, on further reflection, I decided that this may not be the case(Spoiler - click to show): Each NPC you meet presents an exploration of love in some form: dead love, love of mankind, simple fidelity, pure lust, etc. Not a very deep exploration, it's true, but I'm willing to give Berry the benefit of the doubt.

One intriguing aspect of the story is the way it ends.(Spoiler - click to show) Having met your apparent soul mate, you discover that she is a different species and you are not biologically compatible. There are three possible solutions to this: either you change to her species, you change her to yours, or you meet half way. Each option is available, but the significance of the choice is not explored, though each would likely have serious consequences in the protagonist's universe.

This work leaves some key questions unresolved. As Emily Short notes, the nature of the love that forms the foundation of the story arc is strangely anvil-like, to say the least.(Spoiler - click to show) Personally, I thought it was strongly hinted that it was an unnatural, magic-induced kind of supercharm -- we know charms exist because of interaction with the nymph, that Tamta has been studying magic, at least one of Tamta's responses (I thought it was to "magic!", but I can't seem to recreate it now) has her explaining that she'd hoped to "set love in motion" using magic, and in another she admits to summoning the titular sparrow. In addition, Tamta has clearly been aware of you for some time, and it seems from the locket that your sister, a powerful magician, had a hand in your destiny here. I would imagine that much of the reader's opinion about the overall story would be shaped by the particular conversational topics they'd come across -- pretty good use of the medium, in my mind.(Spoiler - click to show) Another glaring question: What's up with the combinatorial explosion as a manipulable object? Amusing as the concept is, it doesn't fit the rest of the style and has no apparent purpose in this work. Maybe it should have been saved for another setting?

The conversation warrants a brief note. Opinions about it seem to be mixed, but I, for one, found the liberation from having to type "ask person about" in front of every topic to be quite welcome. Other than that, there is little functional difference between this model and the standard ask/tell. Although at least one reply seemed to indicate the system was designed to allow the spread of knowledge about topics between NPCs via talking to them about it, I did not spot any differences in behavior as a result.

I would definitely recommend trying this piece, though first-timers may be frustrated by the attention to detail necessary to get past the primary obstacle.(Spoiler - click to show) Hint: Mantras are for repeating.

I have not yet found any good documentation on the parameters for Dave Cornelson's 2000 DragonComp, but the gist seems to be that authors were invited to write a funny game involving dragons.

The opening of Here Be Dragons!!! started out kind of clever and amusing in a genre- and form-subverting kind of way. Unfortunately, that was the high point.

The author, Gunther Schmidl, seems to have deliberately disabled the "examine" verb and its synonyms, which takes nothing away from the brief and uninviting experience of this work. It probably saves time in navigating the sequence of empty rooms that lead you to the dragon, which is two inches long and non-threatening, but whom it is apparently your destiny to kill. You do, you win, it's over.

This appears to be one of those games deliberately written to be bad, though I don't understand why anyone would go through the trouble of programming even a short piece like this as a kind of joke. If it's a joke, don't fall for it like I did.

The premise of Speed IF Let's Make a Nightmare is:

"In three hours or less, write a work of IF about a nightmarish game show, in which the contestant is presented a small number of doors to choose from. Behind each door lies a prize, or a monster, or nothing. Bonus points for including a flying elephant or the phrase 'a random number of dollars.'"

In this entry by Jake Wildstrom, you stand on a stage, participating in an alleged game show that mostly features an ever-growing pile of empty container objects. It's nightmarish, but only at the level of the playing experience.

Schrödinger's Door is either unfinished or simply designed to be a waste of the player's time. Either way, I'd recommend skipping it.

An entry for Speed IF 12, Plaque is a relatively simple and mechanical puzzle game in which you must create an award for Chuck Schmendiman. In this interpretation, the protagonist has somehow managed to put off making the award until the actual ceremony takes place, and must slap one together with the materials at hand before it's needed by the presenter.

The components of the game are a fairly straightforward rendition of the specified seed ideas. The author, who goes by the handle Admiral Jota, dutifully uses each bonus concept with a methodical checklist approach that favors completeness over imagination.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this piece is the opening dream sequence, which uses a scaled-down effect similar to that deployed in Shrapnel, which had been released a few months earlier.

It only takes a few minutes to complete this piece, so I'll leave it up to the reader to decide whether it's worth the time. You might find yourself better served by going directly to Jota's award-winning full-length piece, Lost Pig.

Hedge is a strange tale of one man's journey into The Hedge, fortress retreat of a shadowy "elite" that you desperately want to join... or perhaps destroy.

Billed as a "modern fantasy jaunt" by the author, I found the tone to actually be part comedy, part psychodrama. Much of the gameplay feels like a surreal blend of The Prisoner and Monty Python's Flying Circus, with just a pinch of Little, Big thrown in at the last minute.

For work of a first-time author, this piece is richly implemented. Most objects have layers of detail attached to them, and most verbs have at least a few synonyms. Parser interaction generally shows evidence of both attention to detail and proper levels of testing. I took note of many unexpected niceties in the way descriptions are rendered in response to varying world-states.

Hedge is reasonably well-written in terms of atmosphere and mood, and the status bar helps maintain a mood by displaying the protagonist's emotional state. Although there is a scoring system, score notification is disabled, and the scoring process appears only loosely correlated to the intended story. Interestingly, the "full score" command yields not individual point contributions to your total but a list of unusual "achievements" based on your actions.

The story's structure seems somewhat arbitrary, but this may be by design. Although there is little explanation of the protagonist's motives, the inclusion of multiple winning pathways allows the player to define the protagonist's motives by his actions.

The puzzle structure is frequently obnoxious, particularly in the beginning stages. Red herrings abound; there's even a fountain full of them if you don't get the point. Fortunately, the "about" command yields valuable insights into the mindset of the author, and you can summon a hint fairy at any time by using "help" or "hint."

Although I did find a couple of bugs(Spoiler - click to show) ("take transmitter", "x mayans"), they did not negatively affect gameplay. My two-star rating reflects disappointment that this game seems intended to frustrate traditional players in the first half, for no real reason other than the amusement of the author. This hostile edge probably contributed significantly to Hedge's middle-of-the-pack placement in the 2006 IF Comp.

Mr. Richards clearly has above-average capabilities as a writer and programmer, and I would like to see more from him in the future.