Tag Archives: silent

Fixing Silent Conversation

I like the concept behind my game “Silent Conversation.” The words of a piece form the physical structure of a level that is shaped by the setting, events, and feelings of the work’s content. Unfortunately, “Silent Conversation” is, well, not a very good game. It’s slow, because I wanted to encourage people to read the pieces. But it’s way too slow to be fun. The idea of certain words being “powerful” is promising, but the dodge-dark-red-things gameplay is more annoying than engaging.

A lot of people really resonated with the idea. I heard plenty of compliments for the visual interpretation of the text, and for making the text interesting to read, and for the potential of the game for education… but no one really said the game was fun. So here’s a question for you: how can I make a spiritual successor to “Silent Conversation” that’s actually fun? I’m seeking your help here.
Continue reading Fixing Silent Conversation

Words (Active Sketch 03) by axcho

axcho pointed me to a game prototype of his that’s in the vein of my Silent Conversation. It’s called “Active Sketch 03: Words.” It uses text as an environment, but has a different game mechanic than Conversation. It’s very interesting, and definitely more “gamey” than my game. It’s easier to focus on earning points and increasing multipliers, and it gives the player more control over the speed in which the level is traversed.
Continue reading Words (Active Sketch 03) by axcho

Silent Conversation Released

My July game, Silent Conversation, is released. It is a game about reading.

Read carefully. Run and jump through the text of stories and poems, from the horror of Lovecraft’s “The Nameless City” to the simple beauty of Bashou’s frog haiku. Go for completion or race through the pieces you’ve mastered!

Play Silent Conversation on Armor Games.

This game grew out of an idea that I had in childhood. I was a voracious reader, and occasionally, late at night, I would see the structure of the words on the page as something physical: the end of a paragraph was a fissure in a cliff edge, and each indentation was a handhold. I could visualize a little person running along the lines, exploring every crevice of the story. This is an attempt to realize that concept.