When I get asked what I do, I usually reply “computer programmer” (or “graphic designer” if I want to seem slightly less nerdy or avoid getting pitched app ideas by my Lyft driver). If pushed for more details, it feels complicated.
“Some freelance work but… wince… I’ve also spent the last five years making a narrative video game where you play as three generations of one family to solve different emotional puzzles and it’s based on my actual family and the worst year of my life and oh yeah I’m making it entirely by myself in almost total isolation.”
More often than not people scramble to be supportive and validate that I’m not crazy when we both know what I’ve just said is kinda crazy.
It’s hard working alone on a project this big for so long. There is no team for support or feedback. Nobody to remind you of the realness of what you have built when you’re fretting about how much there is to go. The aim has always been to release a commercial product and I run the project that way, yet so many of my days feel like I’m just making unfathomable outsider art (I’ve found peace lately that it might be both).
Working on the game was initially a way to scrutinize my grief and turn my confusion into something tangible and shareable. It worked. It was immensely healing. It connected me to others who’ve gone through similar things or are worried about their futures. It pushed me toward volunteering as a grief-group leader, mentoring a twelve-year-old boy whose mother has cancer, and working shifts at the Crisis Text Line. In turn, these transformative experiences have convinced me to re-train to become a licensed therapist — a journey I begin this August, aged 45, with a Master’s Degree program at California State University, Northridge.
I realize this all sounds like a farewell to the project; a prelude to an announcement that I’m no longer working on the game. It’s not! I will have time alongside my studies to continue working on Linda & Joan. Yes, the timeline is a little more unsure and it will no longer be my primary focus, but I still believe in the value of interactive narratives as a way to play through complex situations and share personal stories. As trite as it might sound… wince… Linda & Joan is my life’s work.
Given the above, I wanted to share something concrete — for you, but also for me — a “development reel” showing fast-cut snippets of what I’ve actually been doing these last five years. A peek into the hours of gameplay that do, actually, really exist!
It’s embedded below, on the website page, on Steam, and on itch.io. You can also watch on Vimeo or YouTube.
Please keep in touch to follow the project and thank you for all your support so far.
—Russell
