I’ve been working on interactive media for about a decade now. Spring 2017 is when I started. Now, I didn’t become “full time” until fall of 2021, but even still, that’s a long time to be devoting nearly all of your energy to one thing. Especially given that I am 27.
So just about a third of my life has been somewhat heavily devoted to this one pursuit in one way or another. And not interactive media in general, but specifically communication in interactive media.
When someone speaks of communication in interactive media, they usually think of the “A+B=C and A+D=C so what does D equal” sort of mechanical implications of many puzzle games or, if not that, the cinematic integration of a Naughty Dog. What I was looking for, however, and what I have studied, was neither of these things.
Instead, mine is “mechanical poetry”, as I like to call it.* But surely I’ve talked about this elsewhere.
What I want to talk about is the sorts of emotions that come when you’ve been doing this sort of thing for nearly a decade without too much recognition.
I do need to say, I have gotten recognition, just not for this particular core pursuit.
But I’ve given up much of this recognition — that is, I gave up a well-paying job in a high position — in order to pursue something very specific in which I have received very few accolades.
Heavens, I spent a year and a half developing Everything I Know, and Everything I’m Ever Gonna Know and made a total of $250.†
But, if we take this most recent release as an example, I have still gained much encouragement from it. Sure, not many have purchased it, but those who have seem to get it.
That is to say, the core focus of this project was to utilize “mechanical poetry” in order to communicate through implications of said mechanical poetry rather than purely through words or more common communicative methods. And again, it seems to work.
But now, I can get to what I want to say for this blog: as exciting as this is, and as much as I see the potential for this sort of thinking in the development of interactive media, I can’t help but admit that I am exhausted. I am exhausted and I suspect I have another five to ten years before I am able to fully recognize and present the potentials of mechanical poetry at its best. I’m not making money and I’m going to have to start freelancing again unless I am able to sign a publisher for Oh man, a Train. This all to say…
Changing the world is a lot of work.
Even in this intimate way. I’m not trying to fix world hunger or cure cancer, and yet it has taken nearly a decade to start gaining traction.
The purpose of this blog is not to dissuade anyone from attempting to change the world. Far from it, in fact. Instead, I’d like to add some parameters when attempting to make an impact:
- Start as specific as you possibly can‡: Even the smallest of changes, if truly made, are an abundance of work. I’m talking, of course, about changes to tradition rather than viral but fleeting sorts of changes. Yes, you can become famous or whatever else, but we aren’t concerned with that. Instead, we’re concerned with altering culture’s canon of tradition.
- Be prepared for a long run of little external pats.
If, however, you truly believe what you are doing is truly valuable — or, perhaps more specifically, mandated by God — I can confirm, exhausted and unfinished, there is no better way to spend one’s days.
*The Sorrow’s river walk from MGS3 is my go-to example. †It isn’t quite right to say that I spent a year and a half on this project. In truth, I spent a year and a half learning C, building frameworks, redesigning workflows, etc. in addition to building the novel. ‡It is worth noting, at least in my experience, that this specific “thing” was a gut feeling at the start. I knew interactive media could do more, but I struggled to be specific. Part of the journey may come in defining.