Scattered Thoughts on Being Seen
Today Cohost goes read-only, and as of writing this its users are still playfully grasping at branches before they’re scattered to the winds. I meant to write something else on there before the end, but I’ve said what I meant to say, and - thanks to the ethos it helped to instill in me - I have no further need to be seen there. My post from a few weeks ago is more truthful than anything I can say now under the pressure of the moment.
It has me thinking about being seen vs. being remembered, and how, in our current landscape, the former is almost solely designed to conflict with the latter. It was strange to be remembered on Cohost. As a micro-famous personality of the indie sleaze web, I vaguely felt like I didn’t belong. It doesn’t feel entirely genuine to approach people who already (to a limited extent) know your deal. Cohost users shared so much of themselves - so much that I carried through my days - and I lurked more than I posted or commented (which I may end up regretting, now that it’s too late).
It was also lovely to be remembered, as if I’m seeing a return on an investment that no longer requires my attention. It was a balm in a present reality where being visible is not a given for anyone. In my daily real-world interactions I am, by and large, my son’s mother, a role I’m quite proud of but only a fraction of my being. (I’m working on this, slowly forging a local games community, but boy does it take time.) In my online life I am locked in a years-long struggle for visibility that no game developer is free to neglect.
Being familiar to someone for years of comic-making work that was once central to my life, but over time has flattened, is like drinking a mild tea. I get a little kick - nothing strong enough to hook me - and it does my heart well.
That was the beauty of Cohost, and the thing I’ll be looking for in the years ahead. To be something worth remembering means imbuing language and images with power, and somehow, against the odds, reaching others. It’s easy to scream into a crowd and let eyes brush over you. That’s sometimes all our world seems to offer. But we have more to offer each other - not just immediately, but in the long timeline of our lives and our collective memory. I’ll continue to imagine a world where we can know that.
Dev Log: September 24, 2024
It’s been 2.5 years, and where are we at? Here’s the latest update on Perfect Tides: Station to Station.
mom cooks.
The latest playable iteration of Act 3 has been finished, with Act 4 underway. It’s been a demanding but fruitful few months getting everything into shape for internal testing. If I keep hitting planned milestones, this stage wraps in November and I move on to systems, wrestling the trickiest bits of code, and making everything [redacted]-ready.
feature packed, isn’t it?
I hesitate to use the word “alpha” since there are apparently many definitions of it these days, including games that are fully for sale to the public. I want to stress that there is still at least another 8-12 months of work. There is so much unfinished artwork that I have to block it out of my mind. But I know that won’t be the hard part. Aside from a couple of minigames that remain in shambles, this is no longer a vague assembly of parts. This is a fully playable game built around a complete story, and I am getting very close to letting people (the ones who aren’t closely working on it with me) test it out.
this bitch wears a dress??
I continue to be very happy with the game. These waves of optimism about its near-completion come and go. It’s possible that tomorrow I’ll be sinking into misery again over the scope of it. But that happens less and less these days as its features and scope lock in. The game is in the pot, and I’ll be hitting “simmer” before long.
If you’re interested in playtesting the game, keep your eyes glued to this blog! I will be offering that information as soon as I have it, hopefully by the end of this year.
And in the meantime, please wishlist the game if you haven’t! Developers rely on building these wishlists for a successful launch, and every little bit helps.
Transmissions From the Garden
I spent a few hours this weekend getting my backyard out of its sorry state. In late summer, it usually gets bad. Who wants to weed in the bugs and blistering sun? This year, it was even worse: the two neighboring yards are encroaching, and the dreaded morning glories were choking out my precious tomatoes. I plan to get out there tonight, sit back in a lawn chair, and bask in my work.
I’ve redone the website again. I would like to be done with Wordpress at this point in my life, even though it (for now) remains the backbone of my comics and games presence online. That’s unavoidable, just like the world of social media, the Steam algorithm, and the many other factors that monopolize and inhibit an artist’s chances for success.
But here, on the website with my name, I’d like if it were just me and my files. If I’ve taken anything from the now-dying Cohost it’s that a website is a garden, and as gardener I have godlike authority over what lives and dies, if I’m willing to put in the effort. I do not wish to return to the infinite scroll and the active sense that it is rotting my brain. In the absence of anything better, I’m going back to an old format and making websites for the hell of it.
I will try to use this blog to capture more of my personal musings on art and games. I realize this is the most typical kind of post on a blog, and is generally followed by an eternity of silence. But if you have hope in your heart, feel free to subscribe to the feed or add yourself to the newsletter at the link above.
And if there’s something you’d like to hear me discuss, let me know! It’s nice to prime the pump now and then (also vaguely a yard work metaphor? jesus).