How do light novels work anyway?

Every once in a while, I like to look at light novels. I am pretty much only aware of the existence of light novels since many manga and anime started off as light novels.  

It’s reached the point where I finally looked up what a light novel actually is. Um, it’s just a Japanese young adult novel. The only thing particularly different about them seems to be that they have a particularly dedicated publishing sub-industry.

My luck with light novels has been pretty hit or miss. The first one I read was The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, which was really good. Other books I’ve read since then haven’t been as well written. I actually put down Toradora after one chapter.

I have a number of theories about why I’ve had better luck with manga than light novels. The medium of manga may be easier to translate since it’s driven by pictures. There’s more money in manga so maybe more money is put into translating manga. Or it might be that light novels are churned out at such a high rate rhat there are quality issues.

Or maybe I’m completely wrong about all of that.

So I went into Slayers: The Ruby Eye with trepidation. I watched the first couple episodes of the anime back in the day and just couldn’t get into it. It felt like stereotypical characters in a stereotypical parody for me.

I actually quite liked The Ruby Eye. The characters started out with more depth (I assume they do get it in the anime) and a tighter plot structure. I’ll read some more.

And Slayers still doesn’t answer my ligut novels questions. Not only did they only get translated after the success of the anime so there was more urgency to do a good job, I’ve read that the translator, Elizabeth Ellis, is particularly good. So Slayers may not fit the usual model.

I will continue to look at light novels. For one thing, they are easier to read on my phone than manga lol The Boogiepop books are also on my list.

The line between games and puzzles

I’ve been trying out Rove (but it will take some more plays before I’m ready to review it and decide if I want to try out the expansions) when I found myself asking what the line was between a puzzle and a solitaire game.

Now, my standard rule of thumb is that if you can do the same action and get the same result every time, it’s a puzzle. The Flipuzzle series, which I quite like, are pure puzzles because _they have a solution_ You could say they have one path to victory.

With that said, it’s fair to say that there is a blurry line between a puzzle and a solitaire game or some forms of cooperative game. I think it comes down to ‘Is there more than one valid option when you have to make a decision?’ Are there multiple paths to victory?

Relatively early in my PnP/solitaire exploration, I tried a couple of very, very simple nine-card games that just involved swapping cards on a grid to form a pattern. I found them relaxing but I couldn’t see them as games. For me, they were puzzles and very simple ones.

The 2019 Soliatire Contest had a varient of that idea called Solitaire Spellbook Swappjng where each card has a one-use movement power which were the only way to move cards. Still more of a puzzle than a game but there were actual choices.

And a game like Rove, with both more random elements and moving parts, feels very safe to call a game. And it’s still the tip of the iceberg. More and more games have solitaire modes, games with heft and depth and complexity.

The more unsolved the piece of media in question is, the more I feel it moves into the game category. I can see how someone can argue that any piece of media where you are playing against a system and not other players has puzzle elements. 

In the end, I think the question matters more to designers than to players. While I am sure there are pure games and pure puzzles, I think viewing some works as blends is more useful.

I sobbed through this cartoon

 I am dabbler in watching animation in much the same way I’m a dabbler in reading the manga. Which is to say, I’ve seen a lot of cartoons compared to someone who isn’t interested in them but I am far from an expert.

When I read about a Pixar short from 2019 called Kitbull, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to emotionally handle watching it. And then I watched it anyway.

Spoilers 

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It’s a cartoon about a little black stray kitten who helps a pit bull escape his abusive owner who forces him to fight. I cried pretty much the whole way through.

Before I actually talk about content, I do want to note that this was apparently Pixar’s first traditionally animated cartoon. (That means hand drawn. I had to look it up to be sure) And the design work is really strong. In particular, the kitten’s design, which is the most cartoony by far, is powerful. With a head the size of her body and maybe a third of that head being eyeballs, she is adorable, painfully vulnerable and brave all at the same time. 

If Scott McCloud is to be believed, the more cartoony and abstract a character is, the easier it is for us to identify with them. The kitten is the point of view character. A small mercy from this is that we don’t see the actual dog fights, just the painful aftermath. But an important part of the short is her journey to learning to not be afraid of the pit bull and to love him. 

Another important part of Kitbull is that there is no dialogue. The two animals just make animal sounds. There is nothing fantastic about Kitbull because it is depicting the kind of animal abuse people actually do. And which rarely gets the happy ending Kitbull has.

Every pit bull experience I’ve had has been ones with caring owners. And the only problem I’ve had is them deciding to be stubborn lap dogs and it’s like having wet bags of sand holding you down. So I can get behind the clear message of Kitbull. Animal abuse happens and animal abuse is bad.

It took me years to find out Kitbull existed. It wasn’t a fun watch. But it was a powerful one.

Playing cards are a language

Looking at the Mystery Rummy series (and it has, frankly, been too long since I’ve played one of those games), I am reminded about how they are all built on the framework of public domain games. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of theme and special rules involved in making them into bona fide designer games. But the core idea is rummy. It’s right there in the name.

From that point of view, I remembered that a lot of games, particularly card games, have public domain games as their skeletons. Indeed, trick taking games and climbing games form their own vast subcategory. 

In fact, I didn’t know about the Casino/Fishing family of card games when I played Lamarkian Poker. It didn’t seem quite so original after I learned more about those public domain card games but I still think it’s a great design. With just a few tweaks, Lamarkian Poker uses an older design to give a consistently rewarding gaming experience, one that I’ve played with a wide variety of people.

It’s not a new technique. Years after I first played Uno, I found out about Crazy Eights. And to be honest, both I and our eight-year-old would rather play Uno than Crazy Eights. I’m not a huge fan of Uno but I think that action cards make for a more dynamic game.

I don’t view this as a form of cheating in design work or shortcuts that somehow lessen the value of a game. Playing cards have a long history, involving a variety of formats and a ridiculously vast nunber of games and rule sets. I have long held that a deck of playing cards is the most flexible game system you can have and I haven’t found any reason to change that opinion.

Playing cards aren’t just numbers and suits. There are a wide variety of interactions that have been developed and codified over literally centuries. Playing cards are their own language and designers are constantly finding ways to use that language to say new ideas. 

A game that I have long enjoyed Sticheln subverts many aspects of trick taking games with its anti-trump and pain color rules. However, it only works because there are previously existing paradigms for it to subvert.

No one is going to reasonably accuse Bridge of being a ripoff of Pinochle. The same goes for more recent card games.

Mach Nal/Encore keeps me calm

I have found that games involving patterns seem to be very decompressing for me.

Mind you, when I say patterns, I mean patterns being used blatantly. You can argue that every game is about patterns, just as you can argue that every game has some level of abstraction.

I have read that games revolving around pattern recognition (which is another catch all term) are used for medical therapy. Go, in particular, I remember being used to help ease issues with dementia. Or I’m misremembering and putting Go on a pedestal. It’s easy for me to do that.

With that in mind, I’ve noticed that I’ve been reaching for Noch Mal/Encore when I need to decompress. It’s short enough to serve as a mental coffee break but has a lot of pattern recognition to keep me engaged.

And when I am using MN/E as a mental coffee break, I always fall back on the starter sheet. I go through patterns I already know. It’s half decision-making and half zoning out.

On the other hand, when I actually want to use MN/E as a game, I go with one of the other six sheets. I wish that there was more color contrast (I’ve memorized the color locations on the starter sheet) but  having a variety of sheets keeps MN/E engaging. It lets it me a way to zone out or really think, depending on what sheet I pick.

(I play it electronically. Otherwise, I’d mark the sheets as a workaround for my color blindness)

I have liked MN/E since I first tried it and I can’t even remember how I first heard about or who recommended it to me. But, as time has gone on, it has become on constant rotation more and more.

I play a lot of mental coffee break games for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is they are some of the easiest to make as print and plays. But there are a lot of flash in the pans. Finding one that consistently delivers over months and years of play, though, that is good.

Kukariyo feels very familiar

When you get enough books electronically out of the library, the system starts making recommendations. Which is how I got to learn Kukariyo exists. Apparently because I read Demon Slayer. I guess manga = manga to the system.

Kukariyo: Bed and Breakfast for Spirits is a manga based on a series of light novels. Aoi is kidnapped to the spirit lands by an ogre because her late grandfather promised the ogre her hand in marriage. Instead of marrying the ogre… Aoi starts a restaurant at the resort the ogre runs. (The whole marriage thing is to pay for the time her grandfather wrecked the resort)

If I were asked to describe Kukariyo, I would say it’s Spirited Away as food porn with some romance thrown in. Will she marry the ogre Odanna, whose actually a handsome and nice guy, or fall for Ginji, the sweet fox spirit? Who cares, let’s talk about food and cooking! 

Kukariyo is foodie Heaven first, fantastic spirit land second and romance last.

There’s an amazing lack of tension in the work. Will Aoi manage to win over the latest troublesome spirit with her amazing food? Of course she will! Was there any question? The real question is what tantalizing dish will she spend three pages lovingly making.

The part of the manga that has been the most fascinating for me is Aoi’s late grandfather, Shiro. He’s dead from the beginning but Shiro casts a shadow over seemingly everything.

Shiro apparently had the ability to see spirits, travel between worlds and had vast undefined power. He could be a scoundrel and a trickster but he was also capable of great kindness as well. The dead grandad is the most complex character in the entire work.

And he’s the reason everything happens. Not only did he promise Aoi’s hand in marriage, he’s the one who taught her how to cook. And her mastery of the kitchen is literally a super power since apparently her spiritual energy is a part of it.

Kukariyo isn’t flawless but it does stick in my head.

Playing chess with a second grader

I recently learned that our son has been learning about Chess in one of his classes. And after he learned that I learned, he asked to play a game with me.

He has the patience of an eight-year-old so I didn’t know how it would go. While I had to correct him several times (pawns and knights were particularly confusing for him) and I went so easy on him that even he could tell, we actually got through the game.

I won’t lie. I’d rather it be Go but it’s easier for me to see why Chess works better for young ones now.

Beyond the fact that the scale of Chess is much smaller than Go ( 64 spaces compared to 361 spaces and 32 pieces compared to theoretically 361 stones (I am pretty sure you can’t legally filled an entire Go board but I’m prepared to be proven wrong)), it’s easier to see the narrative of Chess than Go. Yes, the narrative of Go is much richer but it’s more abstract.

Each Chess piece having its own type of movement and it’s own name may have helped our son understand the flow of the game. I’m seriously wondering if Hive would be a good game to try out with him.

I don’t know if he’s going to ask for another game of Chess but I’m glad that we got this game in.