• Hooray for the Inky update!

  • The Batman IF is hilarious.

  • Amazing. This is just... purr-fect.

  • Beautiful.

  • Cool!

  • Maggie Smith! Yay.

  • I use Ignite (by Air Music Technology) which can be used either with a keyboard or by writing out the MIDI data by hand directly into the software. It has a wide range of instruments (synths and classical in equal number).

  • Hi everyone

    I'm many things:

    • an aspiring filmmaker in the process of directing my first short film (called "Nemesis")
    • an unpublished author searching for an agent for my first novel
    • a writer/player of text-based games/interactive fiction
    • a composer of experimental music (see my YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWXS5xneFcnDxr_fqJG3I1w)
    • a graduate student about to embark on a PhD in theoretical physics
    • and, last but not least, a newcomer to Imzy!

    Greetings to everyone,

    Yours sincerely


  • Hi,

    I noticed that you gave my minicomp game ("Anatidaephobia") 2 stars on IFDB. If I may ask without sounding aggressive, what was it you found lacking/distasteful? Did you find the puzzles badly-clued? Was there a major game-killing bug that made you quit out of despair?

    I'm asking this because if it's something that I can fix, I could add it to the list of things to sort out in a later release. I'm always open to constructive feedback.

    But if it was just that the humor didn't appeal to you especially, well then that's perfectly okay. Gary Larson isn't to everyone's taste: people who struggle to appreciate his cartoons will probably get nothing much out of my game.

    Thanks again for taking the time to play and rate my game. Negative reactions are always better than no reaction at all.

    Yours sincerely


  • "Duck-themed horror series" heheheh

  • Bruno, I don't want to sound annoying but I just noticed a typo in your round-up: 'self-inDUNGent' instead of 'self-indulgent'.

  • Don't forget that at 2pm Eastern time Sunday (i.e today!) we're going to be playing the games of the Tent Annual New Year's Minicomp as part of a special ClubFloyd session.

  • I woke up to the sound of the AI saying 'Good morning, human!' in its characteristically upbeat manner of speech. Struggling to stifle a yawn, I stumbled out of bed... and into zero gravity.

    This happens to me every single morning, I reflect drowsily. For some reason, artificial gravity was considered cost-prohibitive for a routine flight between Mars and Mercury. Damn those budget cuts. Damn them to hell.

    The trouble with waking up in a zero gravity environment is that it's hard to really believe you're awake at all. To just float out of your bed and into your clothes is so weird that it feels indistinguishable from a dream.

    'Breakfast is served in Compartment 0154 today,' the AI continues, while I flail about comically in my daily attempts to pull on my everyday attire. 'You will have 5 minutes to eat. Then you will have to depart immediately for Compartment 0514, owing to an emergency meeting about the insufficiency in the pressure valves. Do you want your vitals?'

    'No thanks,' I reply. Vitals - or vital statistics, for the uninitiated - were mostly useless gibberish to me. The AI hadn't yet realized how mindbogglingly uninterested I was in knowing my own blood pressure.

    Breakfast? Unspeakably boring - albeit nutritious, according to the spacecraft's resident nutritional expert. I'm not entirely sure I believe him, though.

    After breakfast comes the emergency meeting. I've got used to those: there are about ten a day. Nothing works on this goddamn spacecraft: liquid nitrogen leaks, radiation leaks, pressure breaches, oxygen breaches, malfunctioning guidance systems and faulty food dispensing systems, the list just goes on and on. Essentially, about every single possible catastrophe which could plausible occur, name it, we've already experienced it.

    And to think we're only about a third of the way to our final destination, Mercury: the famed sun-scorched planet named after a deadly toxin. We'll be lucky if we even make it halfway.

    So I head off to the emergency meeting, taking the pneumalift for a change. It might make my eardrums feel funny, but after weeks of flying around like some overgrown Peter Pan, the joys of zero gravity are seriously beginning to get on my nerves.

    Upon arrival, I float out of the pneumalift and into Compartment 0514, bracing myself for the usual machine-gun round of greetings from the rest of the crew. Everyone here tries so hard to be cheerful, in spite of the fact that we are in outer space trying to navigate what is possibly the shittiest piece of technology ever made since the invention of iPhone batteries. Their smiles are so forced, I get the general impression that they've pulled a muscle in their jaws and are unable of any other facial expression.

    But there are no smiles today.

    In fact, there are no smiles because there are no faces for those afore-mentioned smiles to form upon. And the reason there are no faces is because there is absolutely no one waiting for me. The whole of Compartment 0541 is completely void of anything remotely resembling human life.

    In short, there is absolutely no one there.

    I stop in mid-flight, hovering over the holotable. (Well, actually it's just a regular table which is sometimes used for displaying holograms. Damn those pseudoscientists and their neverending technobabble.)

    My first thought is that somehow I've made a mistake and I'm in the wrong compartment. Maybe I typed in 0514 instead on 0541. Maybe I'd misheard the AI. Maybe.

    I take out my communicator and speak into it, slowly and carefully, enunciating each syllable painstakingly, in order to avoid confusing the AI's speech-recognition program. 'Hell-lo. My name is Frank...Mac...Grew...I am in zero five four one. There is nobody here. I repeat... nobody here.'

    The AI's voice answers instantly: 'Checking crew list... checking crew list... Frank McGrew... correlation with heat signatures... 12%...17%...please wait...23%...'

    Oh, no. This is going to take forever, I tell myself.

    Well, it didn't take forever, but it sure felt like it. At long last, the AI began to actualy speak to me, having ascertained that I was not a B-movie cliché freshly erupted from some unfortunate crew member's chest.

    'McGrew, the rest of the crew are unresponsive. I am currently re-evaluating the schedule for this morning. It would appear that no one has left their sleeping compartments. This may be due to an alarm malfunction. Also, in other news, there are 13 unidentified system fails throughout the spacecraft, 10 oxygen leaks, 33 radiation leaks, 122 potential safety hazards, along with an issue involving liquid nitrogen seeping into the food supply. Would you like further briefing on your duties today?'

    Well, that did it for me.

    I tossed aside the communicator. It ricocchetted off a wall and hit me squarely in the forehead. This only made me more pissed-off than ever, and more adamant in my resolve.

    I took the pneumalift down all the way, flung some supplies into an escape capsule, checked my oxygen levels, and bade a short but vindictive farewell to the AI. After which, I was ejected into outer space with no further ado.

    As it turned out, the navigational systems of the mothership had been completely out of whack, and it transpired that we had beeen orbiting Mars the whole time, all the while firmly believing we were on the way to Mercury. So in no time at all, I was home.

    The Martian government sent out the Space Guard to retrieve the unfortunate fools. Meanwhile, I have firmly decided to change career. Volcanology is a hot field these days, especially with geothermal energy being all the rage.

    Okay, jumping down active volcanoes for a living may sound extreme. But it sure beats having liquid nitrogen for breakfast.

  • PS: I am now learning how to write stories in ink and it is so much nicer than Twine! :)

  • Wow, I must have the 250th.

  • This has been my first year of writing interactive fiction, and I've learnt a great deal in the process. Even though my IFComp entry only placed 42nd, I still got a lot of positive feedback which encouraged me to keep on writing! (And this paid off in the end, since my third game, 'Low', ended up placing 2nd in Ectocomp, which was very gratifying!)

    There was so much good IF this year, I didn't even get to play them all (at least, not to the end). 'Tangaroa Deep', 'Superluminal Vagrant Twin', 'Portcullis', 'Screw You, Bear Dad'... there were so many games I loved, I've lost count already.

    I've also been introduced to many different ways of writing IF: from Inform 7 to Twine, from ink to Texture, there are a plethora of great tools -- and I'm always amazed to see that they're free for all to use. I hope to do justice to these tools in the coming year, and I'm definitely looking forward to participating in Spring Thing for the first time in 2017!