![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Another SPN musing: OK, now I really want the story where Dean, in the middle of his huge depression over his father’s death, decides to leave the Legos and the toy soldiers in the Impala while he’s rebuilding it, thereby enabling Sam to save the world. What does leaving the toys there mean to him? Is it denial? Is it a way of connecting himself with the past in which their losses, while great, were still so much less?
Austin Grossman, You: A Novel: A guy who failed at not being a nerd gets a job at the videogame company his high school friends set up. As they struggle to get the next edition of the keystone game out, he revisits his past, as filtered through the game narrative, with all its flights of fancy and lacunae. This sounds precious but really worked for me, especially when the narrator deviated from some important plot point to explain how the game was set up and all the choices made. A two-page spread on how to deal with unanticipated player choices is particularly good, e.g. “What if the player uses a wand of cold to freeze the sacred pool? Note: Sacred pool immune to cold…. What if the player puts on a ring of fire resistance, casts Fireball, and the explosion hurls them over the wall, so they don’t need the key?... What if the player puts a bag of holding inside a bag of holding?... What if the EXACTLY WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE ARE WE DEALING WITH HERE?” Grossman makes the process of game development, in which I’m otherwise uninterested, seem very much like the creative experiences I do inherently care about. The main female character is actually a person, totally respected by the narrative (I’m looking at you, Ready Player One) even if the narrator takes some time ramping up to the same conclusion. Plus, anyone who can casually toss off an “It’s a moral imperative!” joke is My People.
Austin Grossman, You: A Novel: A guy who failed at not being a nerd gets a job at the videogame company his high school friends set up. As they struggle to get the next edition of the keystone game out, he revisits his past, as filtered through the game narrative, with all its flights of fancy and lacunae. This sounds precious but really worked for me, especially when the narrator deviated from some important plot point to explain how the game was set up and all the choices made. A two-page spread on how to deal with unanticipated player choices is particularly good, e.g. “What if the player uses a wand of cold to freeze the sacred pool? Note: Sacred pool immune to cold…. What if the player puts on a ring of fire resistance, casts Fireball, and the explosion hurls them over the wall, so they don’t need the key?... What if the player puts a bag of holding inside a bag of holding?... What if the EXACTLY WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE ARE WE DEALING WITH HERE?” Grossman makes the process of game development, in which I’m otherwise uninterested, seem very much like the creative experiences I do inherently care about. The main female character is actually a person, totally respected by the narrative (I’m looking at you, Ready Player One) even if the narrator takes some time ramping up to the same conclusion. Plus, anyone who can casually toss off an “It’s a moral imperative!” joke is My People.
Tags: