IF Comp 2024: Doctor Who and the Dalek Super-Brain
Doctor Who is excellent so I was always tempted by this one (and somewhat concerned about intellectual property law). Inside the game, it says that it is fan-fiction and does not generate any revenue. But the IF comp DOES give out cash prizes, so doesn’t that count as revenue?
I do think the author is safe simply because they’re too small to bother crushing.
Of course, copyright lawyers and daleks both really, really enjoy disintegrating things. And Doctor Who is on Disney+ now, and Disney is famously fond of bringing the full force of the law down to exterminate even the most tiny and innocent of artists.
Hmm.
Anyway, that’s not really my business.
I very much enjoyed pushing the giant red button to start the game.
This is my third surprisingly visual game in a row! The visuals are basic, but enjoyable. However, the general experience is clunky. It feels like the choices I make are merely scrolling up and down a prescribed conversation.
I died horribly (in a genre-appropriate fashion). The death is totally fine (good, even) but this game required much more problem solving skill than I think I possess.
The ability to click on objects in the image to get more detail is very cool, even if I cordially dislike the entire ‘click such-and-such to get more detailed info’ system. Obviously that’s a matter of taste.
Some of the writing is pretty basic, but some bits are good.
. . .
I think this requires me to sometimes remember things, which due to my various mental issues means I can’t properly play the game. So I’ll stop here, and I won’t rate this game either.
Apologies to the writer.
IF Comp 2024: Quest for the Teacup of Minor Sentimental Value
I forgot to explain last entry that the IF Comp is a big contest for Interactive Fiction stories that runs each year. I enter it often (ever since 2015), and love it. Partly because I usually do reasonably well, and mostly because the community is just SO GOOD. There are loads of people who gladly test games in the lead-up to the contest due date, and even more who help to judge games (and often write great, thorough reviews as well) during the six-week judging period. There’s even a secret section on the forum (which is here) where only authors who have entered that year can post and see posts.
Yes, I have entered this year. You can see and play all the games here.
Whenever I enter, I try to review five games. This one is the second one I’m trying out. Obviously I adore the title! The blurb is great too:
I’m surprised but pleased by the basic visuals and animation. They’re sweet. I don’t think they’re a custom thing; I think Inform or something can do things like that. But I could be wrong. And they’re not something I’ve played before, so they have novelty value for me. If every game had them, they’d be annoying.
I quickly reached the bad ending, which was just fine by me. The game is very merciful and simple, so it’s easy to explore here and there without feeling any pressure.
I laughed out loud at the line, “I keep forgetting there are only two other people in this village.” A perfect joke for the IF Comp, where a significant number of judges are also authors, who scrambled furiously to meet the deadline and probably had to massively cut down their original grand idea along the way.
And laughing even more at, “Sorry I didn’t hear you knock. I was busy alphabetising my potatoes.”
I’ll stop reporting every single line that makes me laugh, because I suspect now there may be a lot of them. (EDIT: There were.)
Pretty sure the maths question is wrong. But maybe I’m missing something.
I reached a REALLY COOL bad ending (and several that were just funny), and eventually reached the good ending.
This is an adorable, funny game that is simple, well executed, and highly enjoyable. Colour me impressed.
“Worst one I’ve ever played”: Reviewing the Reviewers
This is an article I wrote a while ago, 2015 or 2016 I think, when my FIRST interactive novel was freshly published. I’ve written a LOT of stories set in my magical steampunk universe, and the full list including reading order is here.
It finally happened: my first interactive (that is, Choose Your Own Adventure-ish) Australian steampunk novel is wandering unsupervised in the great big world, gathering reviews near and far (and scaring its mother half to death).
My very first review was the comment “Worst one I’ve ever played”, accompanied by one star. I was genuinely amused by such a start to proceedings.
Then the very clever and well-respected Emily Short published a review on her blog, and said, “All in all, then, this is both the biggest and the best of the Felicity Banks games I’ve tried so far; the worldbuilding is more extensive and the plot better structured.”
She also said the beginning was nicely paced while the end was rushed… which is funny since another reviewer said the beginning was boring but don’t worry because it gets better once you get into it.
People say, “Don’t read your reviews” but with material like this, how could I resist?
The reviewers above well and truly set the tone for what was to come. Another reviewer described the book as “Offal” and wrote, “The weird world it is set in succeeds at making no sense and remain unappealing at the same time.” That person was so passionate they reviewed it in two different places. Another said, “The setting wasn’t well explained and I couldn’t make sense of it, and the story was incredibly short, and when I mean short, I mean god awful. I was done in 15 minutes, and I didn’t even figure out what was going on, and no skill was required.” They concluded with the advice: “Skip this one at all costs.”
Other people said, “Cool universe and concept”, “Original and well written”, “I love a good well-thought-out setting, and I could tell that the world was thoroughly planned”, “I was hungry for more steampunk/clockwork creatures, and I wasn’t disappointed. (Actually, thinking about it now, this game has the same kind of story that I was hoping for…).”
I’ve been a little wary of promoting the game in certain places, since it has some violence, and some (*gasp*) sexual diversity. I knew the setting of a steampunk Australia was special, but I would never have guessed it could be considered controversial. All I need now is to be banned, and I’ll know I’ve got it made.
I’ve been working non-stop to get the rumbling engine of promotion moving, and I now have a weird feeling that I’ve managed to start something I can’t stop. That’s the entire point of the exercise, but that doesn’t mean it’s not scary to see the train suddenly belch fire and clatter off beyond my control.
Good luck, little e-baby. I know your friends are out there.
My interactive steampunk novel, Attack of the Clockwork Army is set in Australia. You can choose to be male or female, gay or straight, an innocent or a liar. You can even choose to fight for the British, or not to fight at all.
The book is available as a Choose Your Own Adventure-style app for your device on Amazon, Apple, Android, and Chrome. You can also buy it directly from the publisher (an easy way to buy and read it on your computer).
The app stores list it as “free, with in-app purchases”. What this actually means is that the beginning is free, and then you pay $5 (once!) to read the rest.
https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/attack-of-the-clockwork-army/id1042824941?mt=8
https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/attack-of-the-clockwork-a/oojmcpcnhdedgiegdocaedonlgfhlpgj
Eight is less than Thirteen
Last entry, just over two months ago, I wrote about how I ended up with thirteen cats in my care:
*My two “actual” cats, Zipper and Zoom.
*Two cats I often cat-sit for a friend.
*The four Nature Kittens: Thunder, Midnight, Cloud, and Dawn (now aged twenty-three weeks).
*The Snack Pack of five, so they didn’t get put down: Popcorn, Caramel, Sprinkle, Violet Crumble, and Curly Wurly. They’re thirteen weeks old now and thriving.
I have found homes for Thunder, Midnight, and Cloud, so out of the Nature Kittens litter only Dawn is left. She is a beauty with a great personality, who purrs SO MUCH.
I have also found homes for Popcorn and Sprinkle, so the Snack Pack is now just Curly Wurly, Violet Crumble (his BFF), and Caramel.
Only four foster kittens! Totally manageable!
Except I’m cat-sitting again, so there are six temporary cats in addition to my own cats.
I have learned that there is indeed an upper limit to the number of kittens I want to have in my care at one time (I think four is good). However, I’ve also been through a LOT these two months and I never failed to give them food, water, clean litter, and lots of attention.
*The Snack Pack got cat flu. Two of them nearly died and they all had to stay in quarantine a lot longer than expected.
*I lost thousands of dollars in wages due to feline and human illnesses and injuries.
*Cloud suddenly declined, losing about a third of her body weight in two weeks. The vet said she was probably going to die.
They all recovered fully, even Cloud (who was tested for a bunch of stuff including feline AIDS… and she’s okay! She’s basically just a massive diva!)
*I got covid for the first time (yes I AM immunocompromised, thanks for asking!) and of course my whole family got it too. But we seem to have all fully recovered, which is great!
*Someone in my local area found five dumped kittens that were CLEARLY the offspring of someone’s house cat that they were too irresponsible to desex. I broke my thirteen-cats record when I took them in overnight. For one night, I had fourteen cats in my care! And of course I tried to think of some plausible way to take them in too, but I couldn’t—which is definitely for the best. So that was just the one night.
This is one of them:
I will soon be cat-sitting my friend’s pair of cats again (which of course I love to do), so I’m at eight cats altogether currently, which would be fine except…
*Twelve days ago I bent over to scoop out a litter tray and I felt my back go SPROING!!
It does that sometimes, and I wasn’t immediately terrified, even when it became clear I couldn’t stand up straight. I call it a “back injury” but it’s really a fibromyalgia flare-up. One of the fun things fibromyalgia does is just suddenly attack and take your disability level from your personal version of normal to “oh fuck”.
And so began the worst fibromyalgia flare-up of my life.
I’ve had fibromyalgia for ten long, often miserable years, but this…. the last twelve days have been worse than any illness or injury I’ve ever had. I’m definitely on the mend, with most days better than the day before, but I’m still barely able to walk or stand, and when I do I have about five seconds of being okay-ish and then the pain just gets greater and greater until I either lie down or start screaming. There has been a lot of screaming in pain lately. For a while, turning over or shifting position in bed was a kind of torture (but necessary, of course).
I can sit for a lot longer now, but after maybe ten minutes things get ugly (spasms, etc).
In the early days of this flare-up, there were several hours when I was lying down but the pain was still so bad it was like being in labor. The worst part by far is knowing that if this has happened once, it is likely to happen again. That terrifies me so much.
On the up side, my arms are fine. At first I wasn’t able to walk up the hallway to the Cat Encounter area, so my daughter would bring the kittens to me in bed. I’m now at the point where I can give them their food, scoop some of their litter (Chris does the rest), and walk back and forth from the Cat Encounter area (which has a couch for me to lie down on) at least twice a day.
It’s bleak, though. And my future is bleaker still. This flare-up is the kind of injury which makes a person change her life. But I’m not sure what I’ll change it to. I’ve already lost so much to this stupid disease and I have very little left to give. However, I have discovered an agency called OneLink that may be able to help me access some government services. I’m clinging onto that like a lifeline, because I need hope right now.
I’m also VERY EAGER to have slightly fewer litter trays to empty.
So.
I am eager to find homes for the last four foster kittens. Please share this post with your friends in the Canberra region!
They naturally fall into the very close bonded pair of Curly Wurly and Violet Crumble (both desexed boys, chipped, and double vaxxed); and the newly-friendly duo of Dawn and Caramel (both girls who are chipped and double vaxxed but Caramel isn’t desexed yet, mainly because I simply didn’t have enough money).
But they all get on well so any pair is possible. Or you can adopt just one (but you haven’t known true bliss until you own a pair of kittens that love each other—plus, without a furry friend they get very bored because all cats must be kept on your property in the ACT).
The adoption fees are equal to one vaccination + microchip + desexing, so for boys it’s $305 each (I go to Goulburn to make it cheaper) and for girls it’s $460.
Curly Wurly is playful and friendly, usually waiting by the door so he gets the first snuggles when a human comes in; Violet Crumble loves to gaze adoringly at people, carry toys from place to place, and rest his paws on things.
They are SO CUTE when they wrestle together! I have bought them collars so people can tell them apart.
Dawn (900164002269084) is a female tortoiseshell who purrs like a supercar and demands focused pats when I wake up in the morning. She loves climbing, boxes, and destroying things. Do not leave your toilet paper unsupervised! She is desexed and has been vaccinated twice. She is open to friendships with dogs and older cats. She loves belly rubs but/and is likely to wrap her paws and teeth lovingly around your hand. She gets on well with Caramel and doesn’t like to be alone.
Caramel (900164002269081) is a major snuggler although she is naturally nervous. When she is free to roam she comes and “checks in” on me every so often, purring furiously. She has the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen. She has a strong killer instinct and needs a lot of play time, ideally with another kitten.
Both Dawn and Caramel are experts at spotting me reading and inserting themselves between the book and my eyes in order to get guaranteed pats.
I am a teensy bit jealous of whoever gets to own them.
Thirteen Cats
I own two adult cats. Zipper and Zoom. Here’s some pictures my daughter took of them recently.
I have a friend with two very charming, sociable older kittens that visit my house often. They’re also the ‘backup cats’ for the Tabby Time Cat Encounters small business, as I don’t always have foster kittens (and Zipper and Zoom do NOT have the right personality for cat encounters!) so I can ‘borrow’ them whenever I need to.
I am also fostering the ‘Nature Kittens’:
That’s Thunder at the back, then Dawn, Cloud, and Midnight. Thunder and Midnight are the boys, and they’re getting desexed on Tuesday. All four are fully vaccinated and have visited the vet several times for health checks (and some health dramas). Thunder and Cloud have a home lined up, and I’m taking them there for a play date tomorrow. There’s an older cat at the new home who will need time to adjust, and it’s good for Thunder and Cloud to take things slow as well. Cloud is too little to be desexed yet (vets are willing but my pet-happiness adviser and I have higher standards of care). Midnight MIGHT have a home lined up, but Dawn is still available for adoption. These kittens need five litter trays between the four of them, so I’m really looking forward to Thunder and Cloud getting adopted so I don’t have to tiptoe between litter trays on the way to the toilet!
So, until Monday I have eight cats in my care! That’s a lot! Emptying eight litter trays 3-4 times a day is really really a lot. I invested time introducing the Nature Kittens to the friend’s kittens and they now get on well, which is ADORABLE.
Then, on Thursday, someone I know very slightly called me and said she’d caught five very young kittens and the RSPCA refused to take them (or more accurately, would probably release them or put them down because they simply have way too many kittens and cats right now). I know this woman is very poor and would feed them crushed dry food and water, which would probably keep the kittens alive but at four weeks they should have mainly specialised milk and then a small amount of specialised food gradually introduced. They need a huge amount of attention and money, is what I’m saying. I reached out to various people and organisations immediately, with no luck at all. Which wasn’t entirely surprising.
Knowing the crushed dry food would probably make them sick, I picked up the kittens myself a few hours later and took them home (and spent a bunch of moolah on specialised food and items). Temporarily!
And that’s how I ended up looking after thirteen kittens in one house.
When I saw two calicos in the teeny tiny litter, I knew I was in trouble. I love calicos.
Since then I’ve found an organisation that is willing to take them when they reach 1 kilo, which will probably take about a month. That’s my only offer so far, and I’m grateful for it but still looking for help. My advisor has checked them over and noticed one of them has a slightly deformed leg. It’s an old injury, but I’ll talk to a vet about it in a few days, when they all get a health check (they’re too young to be vaccinated, and too frail for worming for a few days). I’ve looked after other kittens from that colony, and they definitely had worms, so the tiny kittens must be quarantined from all the other cats because they’re highly infectious. Also because they’re so young that interacting with other cats could literally give them a heart attack. Yesterday I held Zoom in my arms so the tiny kittens could see her (and vice versa) so that (a) Zoom knew why we weren’t letting her in that part of the house, and (b) The kittens had a distant glimpse of a cat they’re likely to see again in future (an extremely gentle and controlled introduction).
They’re still very scared of everything, although they definitely know I’m the source of food so two of them meow frantically and come towards me as soon as they see me. They’re big on hissing and spitting (the larger calico in particular) but because they’re so tiny it sounds like popcorn, so that’s what I named the bigger calico. Then I named the others Caramel (the other calico), Sprinkle (the smallest), Violent/Violent Crumble (has a very clear ‘V’ on his side), and Curly Wurly (has curling white marks on his back). The two calicos are girls, and the three tabby and white ones are boys.
I’ve been bottle feeding them every few hours, and they’re extremely enthusiastic so after checking with my advisor I’ve started them on solids (suitable for 1 month old kittens) and begun working on teaching them to drink and eat from dishes. It’s a LOT of work!
I do love a crisis, though. But I’m also looking forward to having my friend’s cats go home on Monday so things aren’t QUITE so bonkers.
Zipper and Zoom can interact with the friend’s cats (they’re grudgingly used to each other) but it’s better for Zip and Zoom to get some space of their own.
The friend’s cats can hang out with the Nature kittens. So those six can go in the same room. But they’re fed different kinds of wet food twice a day, and have to be separated for that. I also separate them at night.
The tiny kittens aka the Snack Pack must be kept separate from everyone, including the Tabby Time customers that are visiting today.
And of course all eleven kittens are bent on escape…. from my room, from the bathroom, from the house, into the toilet (two have fallen in while I was dealing with litter), and from the scary monster (me). And I’m doing roughly a million loads of washing per day. It’s been 1.5 days with the Snack Pack, and Popcorn in particular is SO angry and SO beautiful it’s killing me.
Also, we’ve spent $197 on them so far, with a $150 vet visit lined up. If you can help at all with the financial side, please do! I have the receipts if you want to see them. TabbyTimeCanberra@gmail.com is the best place to email to offer help. With Tabby Time Cat Encounters I’ve set aside 20% for emergency cat vet stuff. That’s $20 so far which is… not enough, lol.
Wish me luck!
PS If you’re one of the people that decided a cat encounter business is animal abuse and therefore I am an animal abuser, please do feel free to report me to the RSPCA and/or the Department of Domestic Animal Services. But they all know me and my house by now and they’ve seen how well I take care of cats, so it’s unlikely they will thank you for wasting their time. The only thing I’ve done ‘wrong’ right now is taking on a huge litter that no one else was willing to look after. And I’m still looking for a less hectic household for them.
Hustling Update, 2024
A few months after I wrote the first and second post about all the many many different things I do, I started fostering kittens.
I. Love. It. So. Much.
That is the stunningly beautiful Cinnamon, one of the feral cats that I caught and socialised in 2023. Catching feral cats is definitely NOT something I plan to do regularly! I am the opposite of physically gifted/strong… but socialising cats is something I think I’m pretty good at.
So, fostering kittens is something I want to keep doing forever and ever amen. There are several down sides, including the cost and the cleaning (not so much the gross-out factor, but my physical body struggling with it). I do one day plan to be rich enough to hire a regular cleaner, so hopefully I could find a cleaner willing to scrub kitten poo off the walls (somehow the foster kittens always seem to get poo on the walls). Many cleaners refuse to deal with any pet stuff whatsoever, which is fair enough. But I’m sure I can find someone.
Fortunately, I have a really great babysitting job at the moment, and my health has improved recently (due to new meds) so I’m earning more than I’ve earned since I first became disabled in 2011. Amazing! Of course as a household we have a lot of financial things to catch up on from the cozzie livs crisis, eg I hadn’t seen a dentist since January 2022 and one of my fillings fell out. But things might be looking up financially?
Unfortunately my right knee has major objections to my babysitting work. I am seeing a physio and strapping it daily, as well as not sitting cross-legged on the floor (which is what made it start malfunctioning). But it’s a significant problem.
BUT one aspect of the “Castle of Kindness” concept from 2019 has actually come to pass. Actually several aspects have come to pass—sponsoring refugees; welcoming them into my home; having them play in my (blow-up) pool; running a food pantry with some emergency supplies (such as water)—but this is the first time that an element of that dream has helped me with my own pain/disability: we now have a spa.
It’s a blow-up spa, the cheapest on the market (under $600 from Bunnings, plus electric and chemical supplies which were about another $200), and it is surprisingly good!
Here’s my son showing the “4 person” spa (really it’s only good for one person, or 2+ who don’t mind having their legs tangled up) that he’s not allowed to go in due to his cast (he broke his wrist falling from a climbing frame at school).
I was really anxious that it wouldn’t be deep enough to help with neck and shoulder pain at all (but if I squidge down it works) and that having a ring of bubbles around the bottom would be useless (but actually the bubbles work really well), and that sitting on the bottom of the pool would be uncomfortable (it isn’t—our outside foam helps, but the buoyancy of the water is the main thing making it comfortable—and I can move around more than in a ‘normal’ spa, which is a good thing).
So in many ways I am living the dream.
Last but definitely not least, I started a cat cafe business in January! When I foster kittens, I feel strongly that it is my duty to take and share MANY kitten photos, and to invite my cat-loving friends over to play with the kittens (which is good for the kittens, and enjoyable to them). So to my mind it was perfectly natural, in a city lacking a cat cafe, to… well, to start a teeny little cat cafe in my house. I kept it as simple as possible, with very limited hours and no food or drink. A lot of cat cafes don’t serve hot drinks, because that’s obviously hazardous to both the kittens and to the hygiene of the humans. But a few people were offended on FaceBook that I had a cafe without coffee, and one person shared about it to reddit. That was perfectly fine until people who don’t understand how cat cafes operate (ie using only friendly/social/bored cats, and not letting humans pick them up or follow them into cat-only areas) decided it was animal abuse. That’s when it suddenly got serious. Long story short, although I never did anything wrong the cat cafe was shut and the kittens taken away. I’ve also gotten to know the RSPCA and DAS inspectors (which has actually been a positive experience).
There’s no good reason not to start the business back up again, after triple-checking that all my paperwork is in order and that there is an external person checking on the welfare of the cats/kittens. I love cats and I love sharing that experience with others. It’s also a great way to find homes for foster kittens. I’ll always have to deal with extra scrutiny (fine) and people online convinced that I’m evil and/or incompetent (I can live with that as long as they continue to be wrong).
I realised that with a designated space for the cat encounters, I might as well restart the escape room business too—people can do an escape room and a cat encounter in one day. And I put in a little shop to sell my books, Qusay Fadheel’s art prints, and maybe even some cat merch since I do take pretty good cat photos after all these years.
So that’s where a lot of my brain is at these days.
Welcome to Australia: Mandarin Version
This is the finished version of “Welcome to Australia”, a book I started writing way back in 2020. It is designed to be read by immigrant and refugee children with their parents/guardians.
Please feel free to share all versions of this book as widely as you like. All I ask is that you don’t make a profit from any part of it. Dozens of people spent time working on this book, and most were not paid (all Aboriginal people and refugees were paid or had donations made in their name).
Spanish and Arabic versions are still getting their final checks.
Buy your copy here in my online store.
An unironic curtsy
My daughter just became the ACT’s 2023 Junior Ambassador for the Fred Hollows Foundation. Yes, that Fred Hollows—the Foundation that works to eradicate preventable blindness around the world.
So I was rather pleased and proud of her, and happy enough to bother taking the family to Sydney for the ceremony. “Lounge suit” was mentioned as a dress code (with school uniform allowed for the kids) so I knew it’d be a little bit fancy but although I looked up “Lounge suit” at one point the only thing I remembered was “not jeans” and that it was at Government House. Lizzie already had a nice dress, and Chris and I were incredibly pleased that Tim permitted us to buy him a pair of chinos and a short-sleeved button-up shirt.
On Saturday night, worried about parking (a long walk from a car park is painful for me) I googled the venue, and. . . uh. . .
That is Government House in Sydney.
It’s 175 years old and hosts royals when they visit. It’s directly next door to the Sydney Opera House, situated within the Botanic Gardens that are in central Sydney, overlooking the harbour. That carpark alone is worth more than all the houses on my street. (And, I’m happy to report, parking was free for the event and about 50m from the door). It’s also the residence of the governor of Sydney aka the vice-regal. There are proper, official protocols for the governor, which don’t require curtsying but do allow it.
I was excited and terrified and delighted. It was immediately clear that I should have paid more attention to what a “Lounge suit” dress code means (it means dresses below the knee and heels for women, with suits and ties for men). Not as formal as black tie or white tie, but a whole lot more formal than my wedding (at which, for the record, I wore white sandals when I wasn’t actually barefoot). I started practising my curtsy (and it was extremely unimpressive; my balance sucks… I was also never going to wear heels, even if I owned a pair).
I would be wearing crocs. My ‘good’ crocs, that are the same approximate shape as regular black non-heeled shoes, but are made of plastic.
Chris doesn’t currently own a suit.
I began psyching up. Confidence is more potent than any dress code. I could do this.
I began consciously flipping through personalities in my head. Would I be charmingly witty? Ironic about the fanciness? Would I act as if I went to this kind of event every day, and conduct the most perfectly boring normie conversations ever? Would I focus on networking with the rich and powerful, hoping to gain money, influence, future patrons, or some combination of the above? And if so, which of my many selves would be the most likely to gain something useful (the Castle of Kindness self, obviously, since that’s what Lizzie was getting the award for)? Would I chat with the governor about the intricacies of living in a semi-public imitation castle, as I plan to do one day?
On Saturday we visited the beach, enjoying the tidal pool at Collaroy (also fancy, but in a very different way and with a very different dress code).
The big day came around, and fortunately we had all morning to get ready, which I kicked off with a massive panic attack (stifling the sobs so as not to wake Chris). Nowadays, I get a panic attack every time I want to try to look vaguely presentable. I guess it’s officially part of my process as an extremely overweight woman. It’s a factor in my not going to markets any more. Luckily, I don’t get panic attacks for job interviews, because in job interviews I’m trying to look reliable rather than pretty. Still masking in a big way, but that’s a legitimate part of the job interview process.
The kids looked spectacular though. I think it’s been at least 5 years since Tim last submitted to a button-up shirt, so that was very exciting. Lizzie is wearing my jade necklace.
I am not coordinated enough to apply lipstick well (on either Lizzie or myself, it turns out), but so be it. I used a hair straightener on Lizzie’s fringe, which I was happy about. Her shoes are too big (we were in a mad hurry at Kmart when we bought them for her “Limelight” performance), and Tim’s shoes have holes in them (he kicks stuff a lot) but… oh well.
Chris does at least own a jacket and several ties.
I informed Lizzie that she should still smile in photos, and off we went. It was muggy weather and some of my meds make me feel the heat. That and anxiety makes me sweaty, which is… not ideal.
Still, we arrived and went inside and (eventually) realised Lizzie was meant to sit in the front row. (This gave the organiser conniptions which I didn’t know about until later because she could see Lizzie’s empty chair and was calling and messaging and emailing us, but we had cunningly turned off our phones when we arrived forty minutes early.)
As we walked into the building I heard music and correctly guessed that it was coming from a musician’s gallery. That was fun. A navy guy stood up to tell us the protocols that I’d already studied from the web site, and then I recognised the MC—TV and radio smart and funny guy Adam Spencer—which was cool too.
Everyone was dressed well, although some commoners were dressed in cocktail style rather than lounge suit.
Unfortunately the room was fairly warm, and I spent most of the ceremony fanning myself with the program, knowing it was probably rude and definitely distracting but that it was also necessary. You can’t easily install AC in a 175 year-old building that is painted and gilded on every inch of the walls and ceiling. And of course one couldn’t possibly have ceiling fans—nor would they be much use with a ceiling so high.
Sitting up reasonably straight for 1.5 hours was beyond me. My back hurt so much that at one point I had to go outside (after the Junior Ambassadors received their certificates, thankfully, or I would have stayed no matter what). There is a stunning Moreton Bay Fig just outside the entrance that is only slightly younger than the 175 year-old house. I took several photos and it may end up on the revised cover of “Bali B&B” as there is a giant banyan in that story (and it needs a post-comp cover).
Lizzie’s phone went off promptly at 3:05pm, which would have shattered our illusion of classiness if it had still been intact at that point.
The ceremony ended at last (I’m sorry, but I really do hate speeches even when they’re not causing me physical pain) and we were invited to the eastern side of the building for canapes and drinks. I took some photos of the gorgeous Lizzie before she was whisked away for the pro photos.
She was returned to us eventually; I tried and failed to secure a mini lemon meringue pie for her; and then it was time to go home.
That is a nice verandah.
I didn’t actually talk to the notables, and the people I did talk to mostly had some kind of role that I was unable to remember (so I spent my energy trying to hide the fact that I didn’t know who they were even though they’d definitely been introduced to us all during the ceremony). Then I talked to a parent because they were a Muslim woman standing off to one side and I hated seeing them excluded even if it was both purely symbolic (they were certainly not being shunned; few people present knew each other) and entirely due to them keeping an eye on their kids. Which, after all, gave us something in common.
So kudos to me I guess for not being tacky and chasing the rich folk.
Then we left, pausing only to thank Her Excellency and Mr Dennis Wilson for their hospitality (I performed a real live unironic curtsy and a very appropriate court bow, respectively) on our way out.
Something extraordinary (for me) happened as Her Excellency complimented Lizzie on her dress and tried to engage her in conversation. Lizzie, nervous, did a perfect imitation of me joking about her and Tim from a few minutes earlier.
I was stunned to hear myself repeated so accurately and I knew I hadn’t said anything inappropriate so it would be okay. Chris heard her gently mocking Tim and cut her off before she could say how annoying he was (which was not actually where the sentence was going).
I realised with all the clarity of a voice from Heaven that our autistic Lizzie isn’t a masker, exactly… she’s a mimic. Which is a type of masking, but a very specific one. I’m still very much thinking about what that means for her in social situations. Mostly it makes her seem weirdly stilted because of course she’s imitating someone else—especially tone and humour, which in this case was super weird for a child to use. But now that I understand her so much better, I can teach her… something. Not sure what, but something. I’m still thinking.
So in the end I think Tim came across as the most normal, sane, and classy member of our family. Here he is running away from the camera after dancing in front of it.
Here’s one of the professional photos, from this article.
Due to the sweatiness, boringness, panic attacks, and (more than all the rest) physical pain involved in fancy events, I won’t be seeking out anything fancy in future. Unless it involves sitting down (with the ability to move around as needed), excellent parking, no speeches, great food, and interesting company. (Ideally super rich and powerful company that is desperate for someone to mention charities and projects that they’d just love to immediately throw money at.)
But I’m glad I got to curtsy for real, just once in my life.
And then I changed my clothes in the carpark, because I couldn’t cope. Realised later that of course security watched the whole thing—they have to.
My body is really not my friend, and really really not classy. But since I knew that in advance, I had set aside clothes to change into that prevented me flashing anyone. Yay?
IF Comp Review #5: Lake Starlight
by SummersViaEarth
I sorted the remaining entries into choice-based, 1.5 hours long, and this one sounds perfect. Young Adult coming of age is a genre I like. I’m 41 and still working out who I am, so the themes work for me (and tend to be fairly gentle, even if the world might be ending).
Lake Starlight says almost nothing, but evokes a mystical, natural feel. So does the cover, which is simple and effective. The description sounds pretty gentle too, and the writing style is pleasant without making demands on me. Perfect.
There are some minor grammar and spelling errors, that would not be picked up with a thorough spell check (which I’m confident this writer has done). They’re not egregious enough to truly annoy me.
Ooh, use of a language other than English. Love it.
And a choice of weakness, which I also love.
Neat stat and notification system. Very similar to ChoiceScript, which of course I like. Some neat visual tricks too.
The magical teachings are all, I think, therapy tools. And it is really working in the story. It feels like a story my daughter could easily enjoy—and, thanks to the forms of magic, it could be really beneficial too.
I… think I’m in love.
And a choice of weakness, which I also love.
Neat stat and notification system. Very similar to ChoiceScript, which of course I like. Some neat visual tricks too, used appropriately and effectively.
Many of the magical teachings are real-world therapy tools. And it really fits in the story. It feels like a story my daughter could easily enjoy—and, thanks to the therapeutic magic, it could be really beneficial too.
Hmm. I got a little bored due to the simplistic story and writing. Appropriate for a tween I think. The “evil corporation is coming” plot was told in a very expository and cliched way.
I was surprised to get to the end and find out I’d only read Part 1 of a much longer story. It’s sort of good because I can compare it to the two other ‘beginning of a much longer tale’ games I’m judging this year, but it also means I didn’t get to see where my strengths were useful. Or an ending, of course—although doing one successful bit of magic was satisfying.
IF Comp Review #4: One Knight Stand
By A. Hazard (SURELY a made-up name?)
This game has plenty of violence, despair, etc… so I’m upping my emotional defenses. But they also have the option to read a detailed list of possible triggers, which is great! So I read through them and I think I’ll be okay. There is violence and mature themes… which I’m hoping means sex and violence, not rape. If there’s rape, this warning isn’t quite cutting it for those with that specific trigger (which is a lot of people).
As usual, I’m more ‘live blogging’ than reviewing.
I’m a fast reader and decisive, so let’s see if it’s possible to actually get through the game under 2 hours despite it saying “Over two hours” in the description. [Edit: not a chance. It’s another monster-sized game.]
Title has a pun but also suggests a desperate last stand. I like desperate last stands and hate puns (but forgive them in titles).
Uh oh. There’s a typo in the first sentence. That is more ominous than any foul prophesied horserider.
The rest seems deliberately verbose, but probably just for a prologue-y quote-y bit (otherwise it’ll be a real slog). Writing seems solid, though, I think.
The first choice happens nice and quick, and it’s instantly intriguing.
Hmm. The following text makes me think it was a fake choice.
Onto Chapter One!
Up to the first choice and yep, I’m sold on both the game and the writing. There is enough clearly going on to intrigue me, the writing is indeed solid and not the overwrought stuff of the opening, and I’m pleased to see King Arthur is apparently involved (you may want more originality in your tales, but he and his knights are old friends and I like familiarity).
I LOVE a choice of weakness! And there are several here.
There is a LOT of customisation here, which is great. Except the writer made an error. When they described the hand-shaped bruise on my arm it is said to be a sharp contrast to my light skin. Which means the player character must be white.
Okay! My two hours is up and I feel like I’ve barely started this game. I’d guess the full game takes at least six hours to play. There is enough to keep me interested, but the pacing is fairly relaxed at first (giving plenty of space to ramp it up later), with some action scenes. The horror elements are certainly horror, but they’re more disturbing to the characters than to me, so I’m fine reading along.
My feeling is that there’s a little too much customisation, but I’m sure some readers will love it. It was only in the last half hour that I actually had much idea of what was going on, so a lot of my choices felt largely meaningless (although I don’t think they were actually as meaningless as they felt like they were, eg they were measuring my investigation skills) and a little repetitive.
There are a few very minor errors of spelling or grammar.
It’s extremely hard to judge a game without an ending, but I’ll do my best. There are some really cool plot beats, and a nice sense of ominous things coming closer.
The action ramps up considerably at a certain point, but I can certainly tell this game is just getting started.
Felicity Banks 