If we have a single failing here at the Thought Check (and we have One. Single. Failing.), it’s that we love getting distracted by ideas in the middle of other ideas.
You see, having ideas is great. Ideas are their own reward, after all… not only does a good idea instantly satisfy, it holds with it the promise of excitement, wealth, and not having to do the stupid “work” portion of creating things… in the middle of writing that dang novel, or whatever, you say to yourself “hey, I think that I could make a Minecraft-style crafting system work in a steampunk/mad-science setting using playing cards!” and bam! Screw forcing out these words on the page, you’re over in another, better world, with graph paper and colored pencils and whatever, making a more interesting reality that, by dint of being 90% non-existent, is perfect! Your brain fills in all the gaps, you truss up the neat bits, the world is full of smiles, and when you get to that point where you realize, crap, how are you going to render this workable… well, now you’ve got a fresh idea! What about a board game where you play as massive fighting mechs who reconstruct themselves out of the pieces of their fallen foes?
Ah, it’s a long rut we’ve been stuck in for ages, all the more damning because it’s full of the fresh and the new at every turn and doesn’t feel like a rut. We’ve been trying to force ourselves to focus, with some success, on a non-games project… specifically, we’ve been novelling, and have been since the first of the month, with a schedule which will take us through the next two months. And argh, if we haven’t reached the point where we want to hit another project right away. Still, we soldier on, because we are good soldiers.
But man, suddenly we’re thinking about how much we’d love to see House of Leaves adapted into an RPG, and how we can do this by making each player responsible for a character, a narrative voice, and a meta-narrative voice, each with different goals, personalities, and even game mechanics. How do we deal with this pull?
OH! We mention it obliquely or give it a rushed write up, to get it out of our immediate system in a place where we can look at it in a few months and say “that still sounds clever. Let’s pursue that some more.”