Issue
Two
February
2003 |
 |
 |
 |
©2003
by
Cliff
Johnson
All
Rights
Reserved |
|
| Clothes make the man. |
the officious newsletter of author Cliff Johnson |
Never judge a book by its cover. |
|
|
>Take
One<
I
note that Newsweek dates each issue
one week ahead of its publication.
The January Issue of Cat Fancy arrives
in early December. The March/April
edition of GAMES Magazine arrives
in February. It is my pledge to you
to reverse this time-traveling trend
by posting my newsletter as close
to the end of that month for which
it represents as possible.
>Take
Two<
Groucho
Marx said “Quote me as saying
‘I was misquoted’.”
The
Sea Jay Interview is now cluttered
with photos, making the words far
easier to skip.
>Take
Three<
My
previous commentary on DVD commentaries
notwithstanding, for the record, I
do enjoy The Thing far more
than I enjoy Starship Troopers.
Point
of order, your Honor. I also worship
great cinema like Clockwork Orange
and Midnight Cowboy, but as
you yourself just experienced, mentioning
those titles elicits no snickering.
When
Eddie Valiant said “You mean
you could’ve escaped (from the
handcuffs) any time you wanted?”
Roger Rabbit replies “No...
only when it was FUNNY...”
>Take
Four<
Mark
Twain said “My goal is to someday
be at least half the man my dog thinks
I am.” Now re-read the same
quote substituting ‘cat’
for ‘dog’ — spooky,
isn’t it?
>Take
Five<
If
this newsletter is perceived as egregious
mental cruelty and grounds for a civil
suit, click
here to cancel.
>Take
Six< |
|
 |
|
Attention
all Fools, 3s, and Mysterious
Strangers:
The
First Annual April Fool’s
Day Treasure Hunt Errand!
Grand
Prize— the book Mysterious
Stranger autographed by both
CJ and DB. |
|
Look
for puzzles
and clues appearing 12:01
AM, April 1, 2003, and no sooner.
>Cut<
>Print<
(What’s
that?)
(April
Fool’s Day??)
(Who
does he think he’s fooling???) |
|
|
 |
|
There
is much activity by the man behind
the curtain.
The
story teasers are accumulating —
The
Hierophant, The
Moon, The
Empress, The
High Priestess, The
Vision. These samples showcase
the splendid stylings of Brad Parker
whose artwork is featured in the seventy-eight
cards of the Tarot deck which tell
the story of The Fool’s Errand.
Speaking
of which, The
Fate of the High Priestess
harkens back to the Finale of the
first game, recapping the events that
lead you to the beginning of the sequel.
If you’ve not played the first
Fool — what are you waiting
for? Download
the game free of charge or
purchase a Commemorative
CD-ROM for old time’s
sake.
To
the True Believers who have
pre-ordered the sequel, my heartfelt
thanks.
How
to pre-order? And why pre-order? Here’s
how and why. |
|
|
 |
|
 he
Kingdom of the Swords stands
resolute in the shadow of the
western mountains on the edge
of the crimson desert. The three
towers of the Royal Palace gleam
of crystal granite, the spires
of wrought iron savage the clouds.
Natural rock formations create
an impassable wall that surrounds
the city, safeguarding the workshops,
foundries, and dwellings of
cold stone and rough hewn timber.
The streets are safe to no one
traveling alone, especially
outsiders. |
|
 |
|
|
The
Swords export precious ore and gemstones
from the mines, and from the desert,
raw glass is refined from quartz.
They weave coarse cloth, bake hard-crusted
bread, and brew heady ale. They are
builders of battering rams and catapults.
Their blades are fierce and their
metal craft is coveted throughout
the Land.
With
the crown on his head and the other
thirteen treasures dangling from the
pole of his knapsack, the Fool hikes
down hillsides and meadows, passing
farmwives and fishermen, children
and wild hares, and all the while,
he daydreams of grateful countryfolk
and generous nobility, and how, for
his great achievement, he might be
crowned the new Emperor of all the
Land.
The
diminishing orange-red Sun peers over
the horizon.
”If
you plan to take the short cut to
the Kingdom of the Swords,”
the Sun advises, “you would
be wise to arrange for safe passage
through the woodland marshes.”
”But
I am wise already and have considered
this,” the Fool boasts, heading
due north into the trees and mist
(and into Prologue of the sequel). |
|
|
 |
|
You
may recall in the last newsletter
I promised to continue the discussion
of how to create a mystery game that
Dr. Watson would enjoy, affording
Sherlock Holmes the opportunity to
stay home and fiddle. In the real
world, the Watsons far outnumber the
Sherlocks, and, the point of a social
game is to be social and have fun,
not to feel imbecilic, incompetent,
and inadequate.
Some
vegetation observations.
The
seed planted by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
and harvested by Dame Agatha Christie
troweled the mulch that bloomed the
hybrids, Clue and 221B Baker
Street, in the greenhouse nursery
of board games. |
 |
|
Clue
can be played over and over
and over. There are 6 characters,
6 murder weapons, and 9 rooms
in which the crime can be committed.
The cards are shuffled. One
of each type of card is secreted
into the Clue envelope. The
rest of the cards are divided
equally among the players.
Roll
the dice and off you go, tiny
pad and miniature golf pencil
in hand, to interrogate the
other players, and by process
of elimination, you deduce the
murderer in the format: WHO
used WHAT
weapon WHERE? |
|
|
|
|
221B
Baker Street, on the
other hand, contains 20 unique
mysteries, each with its own
cast of characters and clutter
of clues. Here, after rolling
the dice, instead of player
interaction, you earn the chance
to read a paragraph from the
secret mystery book. The game
is, in essence, a collection
of mini-mysteries set to dice.
Besides having to buy a new
secret mystery book every 20
games, imagine the icy suspense
of wondering if your host has
memorized every page in the
secret mystery book! |
|
 |
| |
My
point is — oh, there’s
a point? — when it comes to
presenting a murder mystery as a
game, you need to decide what is
most important to you. The makers
of Clue all but eliminated the story
aspect of the mystery in order to
create an infinitely replayable
logic/elimination game. The Baker
Street gang were intent upon preserving
the mood of a mystery story, using
scenes like jigsaw puzzle pieces,
without regard to gameplay or player
interaction.
In
my mystery game parties, I give
my players the satisfaction of the
sacred “ah-ha!” by sly
substitution. Instead of having
to deduce evidence like Sherlock
Holmes with a magnifying glass,
you solve hands-on picture-and-paper-and-pencil
puzzles that provide you with the
hard evidence of the case. In this
way, the satisfaction of solving
a puzzle is separate from the unfolding
chapters of the mystery, yet in
the frenzy of game play, your team,
competing in race-against-time fashion
with other teams, experiences the
headlong rush of putting the pieces
together and solving a mystery,
even though what you’ve really
done is solve an eclectic collection
of down-to-earth eminently solvable
puzzle clues that reveal a story,
made mysterious in its unfolding.
One
can readily see how my plan for
The Fool’s Errand evolved
from such party favors. |
|
|
 |
|
You
might’ve noticed
that I’m posting
a daily mug and muddle
at the top of my home
page and that, worse,
you can read all the previous
posts in my ‘rivulets
of consciousness’
page and that, worst,
you can track my face
for the
whole year. Why
this compulsive facemanship?
Diary of a madman? Lead
paint poisoning?
“Why
I do this, I do not know.
Perhaps because I love
it so.”
More
on Blaine’s
$100,000 Challenge.
Til
March. The end of March.
The very end.
Chronic
Jailbird. |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|