My creation

This was a confusing experience.

It began at the IFComp website listing which claimed this is both Twine and parser-based — how does that work, perhaps a Twine game with text input? My mind drifted to this recent forum discussion on whether certain authoring systems can only create either parser or choiced-based games. The downloaded folder has both a .gblorb and an index.html file, so then I thought perhaps this has both Twine and parser versions. I’ve seen that done before, it’s interesting to compare the differences in implementation. But the html files only led to a browser-playable version of the gblorb, so the Twine listing appears to be just an error and I was overthinking it.

Over the next 20 minutes I went through this cycle several times. Some aspect of the game would be thought-provoking and lead to interesting musings in my little notebook, only to realise the source is an error and I was looking for meaning where there perhaps is none.

Upon launching a parser game, the instinct is is to first type ABOUT then EXAMINE every noun in sight. We start the game in the middle of a bed in a small bedroom, with the bed, a bookcase, a nightstand, and a basket. And a baby. The intro, the ABOUT text, the game summary, they are all very insistent that there is a baby and the baby is crying.

So it was very disconcerting when X BABY was met with You can’t see any such thing. X BED? You can’t see any such thing, despite laying in the middle of it. X BASKET, X BOOKCASE, X NIGHTSTAND? The same.

At this point I thought this was intentional. The summary and game intro had a surreal, unsettling quality: the rattling windows, the too-big bed, the sense of isolation and confinement. None of the immediate nouns being apparently implemented gave the impression of floating in a void, strangely detatched from reality, which fit right in with the surreal first impressions. Maybe this is some sort of dream realm or representation of the protagonist’s mental state. Maybe you’re being haunted by this disembodied baby that you can hear but not see, why not?

Then X ME yielded the default As good-looking as ever, a distinctly not-surreal statement, and my hopes began to falter. Then I tried moving north and south, and realised what’s going on.

Different parts of the bed are implemented as separate rooms. I do like this as a design choice — it emphasises that the bed is, currently, the protagonist’s whole world, that just moving from one end to another take significant effort. I was particularly taken by the description of the “out of the bed” area, the protagonist dragging himself halfway off the bed and reaching out with one hand braced on the cold floor. Very evocative.

However, this does mean Inform assumes that objects (and babies) are not visible or interactable outside of the ‘room’ they’re in, and the author has not taken steps to correct this. Now I could try to rationalise this — if the protagonist is laying on his back he will see only the ceiling, and naturally cannot see a baby on the floor next to the bed, nor a low bookcase. But trying to read to the baby from the bottom of the bed does not work because you can’t see any such thing, and none of the furniture seems to be implemented at all, and the reasoning falls apart.

I could keep going with the overthinking. Maybe the response to LISTEN being the default You hear nothing unexpected means the baby’s crying is so constant it has become expected background noise. Maybe the the end monologue concluding with (the end) but not actually ending the game is saying something about the unending, inescapable demands of single parenthood. These were enjoyable musings, but almost certainly not intended by the author.

I realise I haven’t yet said anything about the actual plot of the game, which is revealed in a long monologue at the very end of the game. It is an unusual ‘twist’ that makes the story less surreal and more mundane that it first appears, yet I enjoyed the characterisation of the protagonist as a new parent exhausted and in pain, making a valiant effort to find humour and express genuine love for his child. The 6-paragraph-long passage, after a game mostly consisting of short (or non-existent) descriptions, felt like a cathartic release, a sudden outpouring of emotion.

Or mabye I’m just overthinking again.