Swearing at the Laptop

Following Cara Ellison’s talk on 21st February, I’ve been asked to consider how I can adopt a story-oriented approach to my project? Flipping easily, that’s how!  It’s a performing arts storyworld and feature film companion app of multimedia secondary character storylines, so it’s already story-oriented.

I propose the distribution, via social media, of an interactive stop-motion animation starring two anthropomorphised nipple tassels (plus an optional headdress, feather boa or outsized fan), after which viewers are asked to vote on locations for performing arts workshops. (Locations must be thoroughly researched beforehand because performances will be in public locations, so permission is required.) Photos and recordings of the said performances can be posted on social media with a hashtag relating to the cinematic project. This is to create a carnival atmosphere in anticipation of the burlesque-themed film. The app itself is interactive graphic fiction following a choice of six characters.

It’s now taking shape. My beloved husband has composed a piece of original burlesque music which will be used both in the animation and the app (each character in the app being represented by a different isolated instrument playing the tune), I’ve started making the stop-motion figures and I’ve begun emailing councils about permission to perform.

I’ve also been exploring Twine, at Cara Ellison’s suggestion, with a view to creating a prototype for the app’s branching narratives. Cara’s advice is not to add too many branches because the narrative will become unmanageable, not to make the choice between good and evil because everyone will choose the “good” option and nothing interesting will happen, and not to make some endings better than others, as in Bandersnatch ( I assume this is because it’s unsatisfying to discover you’ve picked the “wrong” option).

There’s a further recommendation I’ve discovered and am writing about here so I won’t forget to include it. I’ve been looking at the Episodes interactive graphic fiction app and have been exploring a storyline I don’t like because the imbalance of power is really creepy (like Fifty Shades), but I can’t see a way to escape from that story and experience a different one, so I’m trapped! I need to make sure my app has a clear and present option to start a new story so that people don’t just reject the app because they’re not enjoying one story. (Of course, my stories will be hilarious, so only the most miserable of people would decide they didn’t like one of them.)

I’ve been falling behind on my blog because I’ve been thinking about my personal project, but don’t want to sidestep writing about Gill White’s workshop in collective storytelling. I’m interested in this, particularly as Gill mentioned, at the start of the session, that she’d been to Pixel Lab, where she met Lance Weiler (who I mentioned in my first week’s blog).

The four elements of collective storytelling are:

·         Empathy (discover)

·         Trace

·         Collaborate

·         Together.

It was interesting to hear about the objects people thought of and the meanings they attached to them and to make up a murder mystery from the objects in people’s bags (including, apparently, a dildo!). I was surprised at how relaxed I was about working collaboratively. In the past, I’ve proved to be more task-oriented that people-oriented, even to the point of being shocked that some people hadn’t even cared whether the group completed the task at all! But I didn’t have any such preoccupation with this exercise, probably because I didn’t know in advance what the outcome of the task was likely to be.

I did visit http://www.gillwhite.com/Interactive-1 ;  http://www.learndoshare.net/ ; and https://www.thepixellab.net/. The first two helped me to understand collaborative interactive media; the third just bewildered me.

I’ve been doing some online exploration this week. I hadn’t known Twitter had extensions for film (Periscope) and for publishing longer posts (Medium). Although it seems both have now had their day, it’s changed my perception of Twitter, having previously dismissed it as too limiting.

I watched Do Not Track, which I found fascinating and informative, having always wondered how my phone tracked my whereabouts and how my Amazon searches were reflected in the advertising on other sites. Thanks to watching Seven Deadly Digital Sins before my first blog, I’m aware that people who frequent porn sites get tell-tale advertising for more porn sites on their screens when they’re going about other business. As much as this amuses me, it’s only now I understand how this happens. I’m grateful also to know about The Guardian Project and to have had advice on protecting my data.

I spent some time in the Ingress storyworld today. The website version wasn’t terribly thrilling (my concern for “humanities” future was a widespread decline in literacy), but it did help to introduce to concept of the game. The phone app was far more impressive. It gave me an idea of the scale of the research that had been put into the game’s creation and also of the game’s scope for interactivity. I’ve never played Pokemon Go and it’s a bit icy to be trying it out now (at my age), but I certainly won’t rule out some exploration of that when the days are a bit warmer. The makers, Niantic, advise that Ingress is better experienced with headphones on, but there are clear health & safety issues with that kind of immersion in the storyworld, despite the warning to stay aware of surroundings. I wouldn’t want to play the game in city traffic.

For my interactive media final project, I’m now thinking about a companion app for the feature film I’ve proposed for my MA Screenwriting final project, which is a burlesque-themed feature film set in South Yorkshire. Burlesque is currently enjoying an enthusiastic revival and corsets are now high street items, so the app could provide details of where the clothing used as costumes in the film can be bought, which is a way of monetising the app.

First, I had a look at the graphic fiction division of Exoriare. I found it a bit difficult to gauge the order of the frames, so spent far too large a part of my life trying to access Fort McMoney. I got there eventually, using Firefox, to find it a very bleak narrative about snow, ice and oil. Given that I live in Aberdeenshire, this doesn’t hold a great deal of escapist fascination for me. In fact, it was depressing and I can’t imagine getting inside an “oil mine” would have cheered me up in the slightest. Not even if Miner Willy were there. Which I doubt.

Next, I tried the text ‘adventure’ side of Exoriare. It didn’t make sense! It hinted that I should open the house’s mailbox, then didn’t let me do so, but let me climb through the house’s open window and then kept suggesting I open the mailbox. I never did and think someone killed me in the house, though I’m not sure. I was too bored to care by that point, to be honest. I went back and read the graphic fiction and idly wondered whether I’d failed some test to weed out the students who should’ve picked the graphic fiction module instead of this one.

Apparently (and I believe it), my game idea for my personal project is too vast for the module. Too vast and too sprawling, I suspect. I need to focus inwards rather than outwards, and just don’t understand gaming well enough to be able to do so. Scrap that, then!

I’m not very knowledgeable about technology, so doing a module in interactive media as part of my master’s degree is a real challenge. I’ll be blogging every week on the interactive experience specified by my tutors. This week, I explored Seven Deadly Digital Sins (http://sins.nfb.ca/). I didn’t entirely understand the way it was categorised; what’s slothful about spying on your offspring’s search history or social media, for example?

I can relate to the selfie aversion, but I’m not sure the essence of the narrative was envious. I don’t want to put selfies on Facebook either, but that’s because I’m far from photogenic and don’t want to be reminded of that every time I go online to advertise my therapeutic practice or ask questions about my course. The photo I’ve used here is an early selfie. I won’t tell you how long ago it was, but it’s in black and white and my hairstyle looks suspiciously like Marc Bolan’s. (Go ahead and Google Marc Bolan if you’re too young to understand.)

Indeed, the most useful information I gleaned from Seven Deadly Digital Sins is that there’s an app called DeadSocial that facilitates the uploading of photos, videos and audio material and the scheduling of these being posted after one’s death. Well, that’s the kind of morbid shit people enjoy thinking about by the time they’re my age.  I am, however, planning to be around for another thirty or forty years, by which time, I’m hoping, I may be able to order a hologram of myself to follow people around, once I’m dead, and nag them. That’s going to get awkward if my husband remarries, though I haven’t yet decided whether that’s a plus or a minus. Either way, I’m not sure how interactive a future hologram might be, but probably have to assume it won’t be, so that won’t do for my interactive media project. Damn!

Anyway, I wanted to do something involving using my own artwork in alternate reality. After reading a few chapters of Digital Storytelling: A Creator’s Guide to Interactive Entertainment by Carolyn Handler Miller, I’ve decided on a massively multiplayer online game (get me!) involving Jungian self-discovery. And optional violence.

I’ve stuck some of my existing work on here to provide a bit of flavour.