From the time I was just a little girl, I wanted to be a writer. And why? Why choose writing?
Because. It’s sedentary.
Although that’s not the ENTIRE reason I chose this path, it definitely played into it. I was never one of those kids who wanted to be a pilot or an astronaut or a stuntwoman. Nope, I’m happiest with my feet planted on terra firma.
And this is why I’ll never be a good nerd. Because (I can’t believe I’m admitting this)…I can’t play video games. And by ‘can’t’ I don’t just mean ‘I’m unable to figure out what the hell button to push before I fall into a spiky pit/get attacked by some sort of angry creature’. No, I mean ‘dear sweet lord, let the room stop spinning and let my head stop hurting.’
I am, as the French say, ‘la grande game wimp.’
In fact, aside from Mixed-up Mother Goose (my first – and still favorite- video game…other than that parts of speech game I had for the TI machine when I was five. What? I’m sure all kids enjoyed parsing sentences and the like. What? WHAT?), I’ve never found another game I could play without feeling kind of nauseous.
Which brings me to tonight’s possible disastrous endeavor: Little Big Planet.
On paper, it was definitely my sort of game. Little sack creature avatar? Check! Adorable costumes and accoutrements? Check! World made of crafty materials? Check! Charming British dude to explain everything? Check! Stickers to collect and use? Check and check. I probably couldn’t have thought of a more appropriate game for me.
So I started out with high hopes. To give you a real taste of what I went through, let me recount the conversation I had with hubs. In this reenactment, he’ll be played by Superman. I will be, of course, She-Ra.
[Jess has successfully started the game. And by ‘started the game’ I mean ‘sat on the couch while husband turned everything on and got the game past all the opening bits’.]
She-Ra: So…how do I make sack-dude go?
Superman: Just listen to the British guy. He’ll help you.
She-Ra: What? I missed what he just said.
Superman: Stop talking and listen.
She-Ra: Now I missed the next part! Dammit, you tell me.
Superman: Left stick to move, X to jump, button on the back of the controller – on the right- to grab stuff.
She-Ra: Sure, OK. Run, jump. Good.
[Jess somehow passes level 1. Probably because there is no conceivable way to fail level 1.]
Superman: Great! You’re a pro. Well, I’m going to go upstairs and play on my computer.
[Jess attempts level 2. In level 2 you need to know how to grab onto things and move them so you can actually get past the first part of the level].
She-Ra: Shit. How the hell do I do this? Right upper button…doesn’t do a thing. Well…screw this. HONEY! HOW DO YOU GRAB STUFF?
Superman: RIGHT BUTTON, BACK OF THE CONTROLLER! I TOLD YOU THAT!
She-Ra: It doesn’t work! I can’t go on! My dude is stuck! Are you going to make me kill him? Are you? Do you want that on your conscience?! I’m going to quit! My article will have to be based on the first level alone. Do you want me to disappoint my public like that?
Superman: *inaudible muttering* JUST A SEC.
At this point, hubs showed me that there are TWO buttons at the back of the controller. I was (of course) pressing the wrong one. Upon learning which one was the right one, I could grab stuff.
Hubs went back to his computer, and I continued to play through four more levels. Failing level three FIVE different times. Aw, yeah.
At which point, my eyes threatened to permanently cross, my head started to spin, and I thought I might have to take a Gravol or ten to recover.
So I stopped.
My verdict is this: I did like the game. I especially liked the sticker part. I enjoyed the British dude, and the weird, vaguely Monty-Python-esque creatures and characters in the game. I’m not sure I’m going to ever play it (or any other fast-moving game) again. Not for awhile, anyway. And for now? I think I’ll just close my eyes and will the room to stop moving. This part of the quest has kicked my ass.
Do you have any easy, non-fast-moving games, kids? If so, let me know! I just may give ‘em a shot!