Across the Ditch - Part 2

Across the Ditch - Part 2

As exciting as it can be to embark upon a change and all it represents, moving itself can be a tedious and taxing experience at the best of times – moving countries even more so. That said, as an Australian, New Zealand is probably the easiest international move one can make – you can more or less turn up with your passport and stay as long as you want. Your Australian ID is sufficient for most things, there's access to reciprocal healthcare and, to a certain extent, a shared language and cultural reference points. Even so, there’s still the matter (and expense!) of moving your stuff, getting it cleared through customs, finding a place to stay while you get yourself organised, and then figuring out where to call home in an unfamiliar town.

One of the best things about this move therefore has been the relocation assistance provided by AUT, for which I feel very fortunate.

Across the Ditch - Part 1

Across the Ditch - Part 1

I’m writing this from a neat little cafe with a nice view of the Auckland skyline on Karangahape Rd (or K Road, as the locals call it). We landed in Auckland a few nights ago and have moved here for a new job that I start next week at the Auckland University of Technology. Since we’ll be living in New Zealand for the foreseeable future, I figured I’d make time to keep an occasional journal of how we go settling in and observations on living in a similar, but different, part of the world to Australia where I have spent most of my life.

‘Why Auckland?’

It’s the first question everyone asks, but not, I suspect, exactly the first thing everyone thinks.

Hope and Politics

I haven't written much in a while. There are numerous reasons for that, but mostly what it comes down to is that I only write when I feel I have something to say.

After my business fell over and my youthful naive optimism fell over with it, I went on a quest for knowledge for several years, during which I developed a vocabulary of concepts, a sense of history and contingency, and began setting about provisioning what my mentor would call a well-stocked memory.

Anger fuelled me through those times, and anger is a powerful force indeed. I did my best writing when I was angry and had a point to make, usually about stripping away bullshit and artifice to reveal some important truth or other.

But anger is tiring, and angry people are tiresome. What will you do once you've torn it all down? Do you have anything to put back in its place? Or does your job end there? Making is much harder than breaking, and in the end I always side with the makers. I just wish what we made was better.

Platypuzzler Dev Diary: Finding the Fun

Last time I talked about the basic prototype of Platypuzzler we made to test out the curiosity mechanic, which worked reasonably well and showed potential. But the game itself wasn't fun to play. In fact, at this point there wasn't even much game to play. In truth, I had probably been so focussed on trying to recreate Platypus' personality that I hadn't given nearly enough thought to what the player would actually do in the game.

Platypuzzler Dev Diary: Curiosity Mechanic

Platypuzzler Dev Diary: Curiosity Mechanic

Recreating the platypus' personality in a game means finding a way to convincingly represent its sense of curiosity. Getting this to feel fluid and natural is important, because connected to curiosity is another core tenet of the game – the player can't control the platypus directly. Having control would break the spell – it is the tension of knowing your actions have influence, without always knowing how, why or when, that sustains interest. To succeed in this game means gradually coming to understand how the curiosity mechanic actually works, which is to enter the imaginative world of the platypus for a while and experience things from its perspective.

There are a few important principles to designing the curiosity mechanic, then:

Introducing Platypuzzler

Introducing Platypuzzler

Platypuzzler is about having a playful, respectful and joyous encounter with a mysterious and unfamiliar creature on its own terms. Platypuses are my favourite animals – they are curious, playful, comfortably and stubbornly independent, in constant search of fresh stimulation, and a bit weird. More troubling amounts of insight into my psyche, I fear. I can (and have) happily watch for hours as they swim around madly and contentedly following some unknowable purpose, changing directions, annoying turtles whose existence they seem to find intensely interesting, and using their natural buoyancy to relax and float amusingly to the surface when they feel they've had enough.

The platypus is not a creature anyone can control. This is important. You have to come to it, and it will reward you with the surprises and delights of its presence. I once had the pleasure of sharing a tank with a platypus for a little while. She paddled over to investigate and stare at me intently while munching on some worms I had offered, and stayed to enjoy a few tumbling tickles on the tummy. Then, having satisfied her curiosity, she would dart off to investigate some moss which had suddenly outranked me in terms of interest and appeal. I stirred up the water a bit to attract her attention, but she was done with me for the time being. Once she had exhausted the possibilities of the moss and done a few laps and leisurely somersaults, she came back to see if I had turned into anything interesting, and for another tickle. Eventually she had had enough and the moment was over. I wanted more, but I had already had so much.

I wanted to see if I could recreate this kind of affective experience in a game: