Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Donkey Kong: jump barrel, jump barrel, jump monkey.

Last weekend, someone said to me – while, I might add, they were sitting in my living room, on my sofa – that video games had no story.

I’m a calm and collected kind of guy. I respect the fact that other people have opinions that are nearly as valid as my own. So it was only when this person went on to say the following that I was forced to beat them to death with their leg.

“Look at the typical video game story,” this person said, “There’s nothing to it. I mean… what’s the story in Donkey Kong? Jump barrel, jump barrel, jump monkey.”

Donkey Kong. Which was first released in 1981, back when Willy Gates was allegedly telling us 640k was plenty for everyone and when people in the UK were starting to wonder whether or not Thatcherism was a good idea. Donkey Kong: a groundbreaking game in many ways, not least for introducing Mario and the concept of characterisation to gaming. Donkey Kong: not a fantastic story. Not in 1981. They didn’t have room for a story.

It’s a bit like saying, “Sci-fi films have rubbish special effects. Look at Logan’s Run.” Jump barrel, jump barrel, jump monkey indeed.

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The cat ate my NaNoWriMo, I swear.

Someone not at all famous but should or maybe one day will be once said “NaNoWriMo? They should just call it inevitable disappointment delivered straight to your soul on December 1st”, obviously allowing a month or so either way for industrial action in the UK.

So, without much ado and, in fact, without much pride either, here is an update from the team on how we managed our ‘mini’ challenge this year….

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We’re doing this Mini NaNoWriMo thing so that we don’t have to write 1,700 words a day. It seemed like such a good idea at the time; after all, what else happens in November? Nothing, that’s what. Nothing.

Strangely, the real world disagrees with this appraisal. We’ve already decided October will be known on IWDTFM as ‘Sad October‘ thanks to the lack of new content we produced, but November is shaping up to be pretty busy too. Our workloads are still high and – more importantly – Dan and I are firmly engrossed in Tekken during our evenings.

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Hey, surprise, it’s November! Are you doing Mini NaNoWriMo with us? How’s it going?

I kicked off my month of writing yesterday afternoon, sitting in the lounge with a plate of grilled garlic pita bread snacks and a small martini. Yes, quite.

So, what are we writing this month? Find out after the cut.

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Even this baby can type faster than us.

NaNoWriMo season is fast approaching… and around the Iwilldothatformoney offices, it’s invoking a sense of swiftly impending doom.

What the hell is this NaNoWriMo thing and do you get money for it?

In case you haven’t heard of NaNoWriMo – and you probably haven’t unless you know a handful of crazy writers who spend too much time online (nice to have meeting you!) – it’s a writing challenge with the aim to write an entire novel in the single month of November. 50,000 words in 30 days. 1,667 words a day. Last year, 119,301 people from around the world participated.

Yes, it’s fecking hard. And no, you don’t win anything. Except, perhaps, the modest pride for having written a shitload of crap words that you hate and will never look at again.

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JK Rowling: queen of fiction and everyfuckingthing else

I know. You’re thinking, what the hell? That’s a weird topic, considering a sizeable proportion of Iwilldothatformoney’s team are writers. The thing is, we’re not pretending anything. We know Iwilldothatformoney is never going to make money — we produce this blog for the mere joy of enriching the world every day with pithy, insightful and witty commentary… And as for our other writing, well, we do that because we’re mental. A strong dose of insanity is needed for someone to want to be a writer.

Being a writer is not easy. It’s a peculiar thing. Many writers hate writing; loathe it with a passion (as much as they hate clichés) — and yet, they must write, because the alternative (which would be not writing, for those following at home) is so much worse. Who would voluntarily select a life of such day-to-day repugnance?

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