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
Felicity Banks 