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schematicdreamsOne of my long-time favorite "stuck in a car and didn't think to bring any other entertainment" games is called "Fortunately/Unfortunately." It's a game of joint improvisational story-telling; two or more narrators trade off with the story of the sole survivor of a plane crash on a desert island. Each player takes turn adding a line to the story, each line starting alternately with either "fortunately" or "unfortunately." The players advance the story by adding some detail that benefits or impedes the survivor. So a typical game might start:
"Unfortunately, a man's plane crash-lands on a desert island, and he is the sole survivor."
"Fortunately, he pulls a radio from the plane's wreckage."
"Unfortunately, the radio is out of batteries, and he has none to replace it."
And so on. The only restriction on narrator is that no narration can undo a previous one's contribution, so the next line to this example couldn't be, "Fortunately, he really does have batteries." The goal of the game is to create and work around conflicts, not to debate over what conflicts exist. It's important that players remember that there's an infinitude of options open at any point, and creative or silly responses are welcome. So a proper follow-up to the above might be:
"Fortunately, an spacecraft full of friendly aliens descends on the island and offers him help."
"Unfortunately, they accidentally introduce hostile microbes to Earth's atmosphere, infecting him and potentially all of humanity with a deadly contagion."
In this game, such twists and deus-ex-machina are not failures of the narrator but creative successes.
Unfortunately (haw!), game narratives seldom endure for very long. Games end early due to frustrated players, plots too complex for the players to remember, or, quite commonly, time constraints. Even the most determined players will find that the stories of Fortunately/Unfortunately sprawl in scope while their available time and memory for the game dwindle.
Luckily, most cultures have invented the written word some time in the last few thousand years. Using this cutting edge technology, I'm going to endeavor to adapt this game to something more sustainable, or at least to keep a solid record of a game. Here's the format I foresee:
Mel would also like to do illustrations or a comic to accompany the story. We'll negotiate a starting date soon, fingers crossed!
"Unfortunately, a man's plane crash-lands on a desert island, and he is the sole survivor."
"Fortunately, he pulls a radio from the plane's wreckage."
"Unfortunately, the radio is out of batteries, and he has none to replace it."
And so on. The only restriction on narrator is that no narration can undo a previous one's contribution, so the next line to this example couldn't be, "Fortunately, he really does have batteries." The goal of the game is to create and work around conflicts, not to debate over what conflicts exist. It's important that players remember that there's an infinitude of options open at any point, and creative or silly responses are welcome. So a proper follow-up to the above might be:
"Fortunately, an spacecraft full of friendly aliens descends on the island and offers him help."
"Unfortunately, they accidentally introduce hostile microbes to Earth's atmosphere, infecting him and potentially all of humanity with a deadly contagion."
In this game, such twists and deus-ex-machina are not failures of the narrator but creative successes.
Unfortunately (haw!), game narratives seldom endure for very long. Games end early due to frustrated players, plots too complex for the players to remember, or, quite commonly, time constraints. Even the most determined players will find that the stories of Fortunately/Unfortunately sprawl in scope while their available time and memory for the game dwindle.
Luckily, most cultures have invented the written word some time in the last few thousand years. Using this cutting edge technology, I'm going to endeavor to adapt this game to something more sustainable, or at least to keep a solid record of a game. Here's the format I foresee:
- Melissa and I will play a game, as described above, playing no more than one turn a day, and (perhaps) no fewer than one a week. As normal, each turn will consist of a sentence advancing the story.
- I'll expand and dramatize each entry into novel-style prose. I'll shoot for at least 250 words on most entries, but I may radically depart from this goal depending on intended dramatic (or humorous) effect.
- Both of us will have access to the entire history of turns and dramatizations. Only the turns themselves will be canon (so as not to unfairly bias the game in my favor). If new canon should contradict previous dramatizations, the dramatizations will be either edited or severely lampshaded.
- We may occasionally trade roles as "unfortunately" and "fortunately" narrators.
- I'll post all the results here. I'll hide the turn itself (the original, short version of the narration) behind an lj-cut, along with a record of whose turn it was, and any other relevant notes on game progress.
- We'll play the game for about six months. We'll evaluate then whether to continue or end the story.
Mel would also like to do illustrations or a comic to accompany the story. We'll negotiate a starting date soon, fingers crossed!
