Haven’t been blogging lately because it’s not always easy to come up with interesting topics.  I know some folks are just happy blogging about any ol’ thing, but I am an important person.  This comes with important person responsibilities.  Like being interesting.  And fighting mummies.  Since I fought mummies just last night (FYI: I won), I guess I’ll try to be interesting today.

As my novelology career continues to grow, I ponder the perils and perks of fame and fortune.  On the plus side, I get to meet people who are nice to me just because I’m famous.  I also get a magic sword that makes fighting mummies a hell of a lot easier.  If you’ve ever tried fighting a mummy without a magic sword, you know what I’m talking about.  On the downside, I find increasingly a wall between me and the ordinary people that make up the bulk of our world’s population.

Granted, I am not really that famous and my fortune isn’t going to pay for that solid gold robot polish I need.  (Jeeves-3000 is looking a bit tarnished of late.)  But even in a cosmic scale, where I am but a speck of dust floating beneath the all-recording optical sensor of The Mighty Robot King, I still am more famous than most people who are reading this right now.  Probably.  Maybe.  Or maybe I’m just delusional.  Just play along in any case.

I’m in a delicate stage right now.  I am just successful enough that many people think of me as being something special, but I’m also obscure enough that most people haven’t heard of me.  On the one hand, this keeps me humble.  On the other, it elevates me in a way I don’t always like.  There are newer members of my writer’s group who never got a chance to meet Alex Martinez, the aspiring writer.  They only know A. Lee Martinez, world-renowned novelologist and mummy fighter.  As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve only been a published writer for a few years now.  I was an aspiring writer much longer.  And when I finally as accepted for publication, there was much rejoicing in my group because everyone knew what a long, hard road it had been.  Now it’s just assumed that I am going to make a living doing this.  When I present something at the DFWWW, it’s assumed that it is going to be published at some point.  This isn’t a bad assumption, but it changes the dynamic of the situation.

Assuming something of mine does eventually become a movie (a big assumption, but more and more possible each passing day) there will come a time when I leap from obscurity (“I’ve never heard of you”) to less obscurity (“You’re the guy who wrote the book that movie was based on?”).  While I do look forward to this possibility, I also realize that this will present a whole new dynamic to my relations with the little people.  It’s not a change I’m particularly looking forward to.

Fame and fortune come at a heavy price, gang.

Do me a favor and just remember that, underneath it all, I’m just a guy who gets paid to make up stories.  The only thing special about me is that I’ve got a talent for it, I didn’t give up, and an ungodly amount of luck.  And of those three things, I rank them (in order of importance) as Luck, Persistence, and Talent.  And I think I’m probably overestimating talent’s importance.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Scribblenauts is for Nintendo DS, and it shows that once again, the most innovative gaming system on the market isn’t found in your living room, but in your pocket.  Really, the DS continues to shine.  So much so that I just don’t see the point in buying any other system myself.  The DS proves that it’s not the hardware that makes a great game (although it is a well-designed system), but the software behind it.  And nowhere is that more obvious than in Scribblenauts.

Okay, okay.  “Get on with it,” you’re probably saying.  What is it about Scribblenauts that makes it so cool?  And that’s where it gets tricky because Scribblenauts is not a game easily categorized because it is its own category.

The basic premise of the game is that you’re collecting special starites.  You do this by solving puzzles or navigating simple levels.  This isn’t what makes the game cool.  What makes it cool is that you achieve this goal by creating a variety of objects on the fly.  “What kind of objects?” you ask.

Pretty much anything you can imagine.  All you have to do is write down a word, and POOF it appears.  The vocabulary of the game is absolutely immense.  If you can think of it, the odds are that it is in the game.  Using this nearly unlimited tool of your imagination, you can achieve your goal in almost any way.

An example might be clearer.  In one level, a cat is atop a house.  Your goal is to get the cat down to the waiting girl.  Here are just some of the solutions I’ve employed.

1) Write LADDER.  Use it to climb up and pick up the cat.
2) Write FISH.  Give the fish to the girl.  Cat jumps down.
3) Write MOUSE.  Put the mouse on the ground.  Cat jumps down.
4) Write FIRE.  Set house ablaze.  Cat jumps down.
5) Write BAZOOKA.  Blow up house.  Cat jumps down.
6) Write TRAMPOLINE.  Jump up and pick up cat.
7) Write PEGASUS.  Ride winged horse up to pick up cat.

…and these are just a few of the solutions possible.  I’m sure there are many more.  The only way to “master” a level on advanced mode is to complete it 3 different ways, using different objects every time.

Lest you think all the solutions are this easy, I’m still working on figuring out many of the levels.  Although a game like this isn’t about difficulty, but imagination and novelty.  The title screen acts as a sandbox-style default where you can just throw all sorts of ideas together.  The fun at first is seeing if you can outsmart the game by thinking of something it isn’t ready for.  While it’s possible to end up with something a little different than you expected, it is really unusual to draw a complete blank.  And often, the game will surprise you with its attention to detail.  This is a game that knows there’s a difference between a T-rex and an allosaurus.  And if you’re wondering if there’s a big difference between a regular devil and the fabled Jersey Devil, this game will assure you that indeed there is.

Chupacabra, Cthulhu, Tank, Flamethrower, Forest, Machinegun, Yeti, Bigfoot, Ghost, Wraith, Zombie, Ghoul, Sword, Castle, Apartments, Mall, Skyscraper, Kracken, Skateboard, Butler, Fairy.  This is just a small sampling of random words that I’ve created either to solve a level or just for fun.  And here’s where I draw the strangest comparison in any game I’ve ever played.

Scribblenauts reminds me of Colorforms.  Am I the only one who remembers these things?  You get a simple background and apply reusable sticky images to create scenes.  I had a big Smurf Coloforms set when I was a kid, and I loved it.  I even did my own Do-It-Yourself Colorform with paper, scissors, dinosaurs, and double-sided tape.  And now, my Colorform joy is back in this handy little game.

Maybe I’ll craft my own little city.  Or I’ll design my own dinosaur park.  Or maybe I’ll just pit Cthulhu against wave after wave of werewolves.  Whatever strikes my fancy.  This alone would probably make the game worthwhile, but there is actually a challenging game here as well.

Will you love Scribblenauts?  I can’t guarantee that.  It’s too bizarre, too unusual for easy comparisons.  But this is a game that almost deserves to be bought just because it is so fascinating and unique.  Or not.  Ultimately, if the idea sounds interesting to you, then it’s probably worth checking out.