Development of Oh man, a Train. continues smoothly, and yet there is something about the progression that seems odd. The progression, mechanically, that is.
Now, is it “odd” or “new”? This is the question.
It isn’t that I am being flippant with it. Anyone who has seen my design doc structure (which is basically no one) would know that I am particularly intentional about progression. However, it seemingly can come off as “messy”. One review for Everything I Know, and Everything I’m Ever Gonna Know summarized the general response: “There are a lot of mechanics in the game, but ultimately it felt like none of them really mattered.”
So this is a “problem” that I am aware of, and yet I’m not convinced it is something I wish to fix.
Though my love for “text” being the primary interaction and generally the primary driving force of a project now has many facets, the original purpose for this was to allow “failure” in experimental mechanics while still providing the user with a positive experience. A good narrative.
What this creates, and what I enjoy in interactive media in general, is a solid core — can’t get much more solid than text — with experimental and “toylike” accoutrements.
I’ve always said that I’m really not a “game” designer. I don’t have any desire to be a “game” designer. In reality, I consider myself to be an odd mix of a nonlinear narrative artist and toy designer. My favorite “video games” are not really even games* or, if they are, the reason that they are amongst my favorites has little to do with the “game” elements.†
So that leaves me with this odd tension where I have to convey the optionality of these “toy” elements.
The reviewer did, indeed, miss that all interaction does have impact of some sort, and all systems really do play into each other in obvious and non-obvious ways. However, the narrative variation resultant of the changes is usually low to mid. In Everything I Know, and Everything I’m Ever Gonna Know, the most narratively impactful mechanic is choosing to thank the delivery pig. The change is simply a small additional dialogue and an audiovisual change to the final scene. This, other than adapting the interpretive implication of the story would generally not be considered a major branch.
The easiest thing to do to alleviate this would be to add achievements to let users know where the secret content is and where impact can occur. This. to me, however, defeats the charm of it being rather unknown or unessential. If someone knows that it is there, we are breaking modern visual novel rule #2 in sort of a meta way, as there is a separate “completion” implied by achievements that creates obstacles that halt or reverse the pursuit of said end. We don’t want this.
Oh man, a Train. will likely once again be viewed as “messy”, with many signified but necessarily missed conversations and interactions. There is, per usual, the main linear narrative, but are these necessarily missable interactions bad design? Especially if there is no save slotting…
Here’s why I think it is not bad design:
I design my novels with a “waterfall flow”. Always moving forward, but branching. Generally moving to the same or nearly the same place. Like a droplet in a waterfall. Or a droplet being watched on a window, if you are more romantic.
Now, the problem with this is conveying to the user that missed content is OK. Am I doing this in Oh man, a Train? I am not sure.
In Oh man, a Train, each interaction, or “event”, is a small conversation reflecting on the life of Edwin, our protagonist. It is not unreasonable for a user to find themselves feeling as though they need to go back down the waterfall to interact with different characters. And, yes, I’d love for them to reread, but in my mind it should not be for the purpose of going down different paths. The different paths are simply a bonus. A reflavoring of the same story.
This was also true of Everything I Know, and Everything I’m Ever Gonna Know, where additional mechanics were there to play with only if the user so desired. Simply some nuance to flavor a readthrough that was already desired by the user. Toys to play with as an accompaniment to what was already a hermeneutically ripe reading experience.
So the goal for a user to desire a repeat readthrough is hermeneutical understanding rather than to intentionally branch…
So the question is, how do I convey this better?
The easiest thing is to dictate this directly. And in many ways, I actually think this is OK given how programmed we are to view interactive media in a different light. And, when it comes to deprogramming, I am all for the directly stating of things. And yet, I think the exercise of figuring out how to convey the inherent proclivity to “close the loop” by seeing all content purely through design would be fruitful.
What is currently causing the feeling that the user must complete these alternate elements?
Unfortunately, it is simply their presence… If the user sees a weenie‡, they are naturally going to want to know what it is. Whether this is a terminal or a ghostly character, naturally they are going to want to know more about it. If it simply fades away or is never used, they may feel that they are missing out.
And I really don’t want this.
Even if there are multiple endings or greater branching in general, I want a conclusive flow§ to be considered “the end”.
In a large way, if there are multiple major branches, concluding in different ending spots, the understanding of the other mechanics would be more obvious. Since there are major branches, obviously these other accoutrements can be played with.
Unfortunately, I’m running out of my set time to think on this, so I’m going to have to conclude for now… Please email me at phil@tableauxtheory.com if you have any thoughts.
*See: Animal Crossing GCN. †Exceptions to this rule being Resident Evil 4 and Super Monkey Ball. ‡A “weenie” is a term for a point of interest conveyed to the user. §A “conclusive flow” is not a term I’ve really ever used, but seems important. This would just be a flow that brings the user back to the start of the flow while the process is still running through progression.