Having spent a long time crafting the narrative for this game, it was time to start transforming concepts into content. The first narrative slice that underwent this change was the fables, the mini-stories that Maive tells to the other characters in the game. This came first in the list because with it Kerris and I would gain clarity as to exactly what was needed when creating assets for the book (we already knew the assets for Maive's world).
As mentioned in my narrative blogs, I had already outlined the subject of each fable. How to present these fables, however, was another question entirely.
During the entirety of this year, I have had children's books close at hand to inform creative decisions when it comes to both art and narrative design. The three that are most prevalent to this section of game development are The Way Home for Wolf by Rachel Bright and Jim Field, The Snail and the Whale by Julia Donaldson, and Winnie the Pooh, The Complete Collection of Stories and Poems by A.A. Milne.
All of these books have one thing in common: they include poetry, two of them are written completely in rhyming verse. Over Christmas, the BBC released an animated film adaptation of The Snail and the Whale, which is what really brought this to my attention. By using rhyming as the text, the prose adopts an aspect of predictability which makes it easier for children to understand and remember. It is much easier to memorise a song than it is to memorise a novel, as the previous lines lead the reader/listener to predict the coming ones. This is especially useful in children's texts as children are beginning to learn to read and write, and connecting sounds is much easier than connecting written words, as Kirsten Read observes in her article on the topic.
After researching into this, I decided that the fables should be written in rhyming verse, not for the benefit of readability for children, but to give the impression of classic children's tales. It is also a welcome contrast to the dialogue which is not going to be written in rhyming verse, and further separates the book world from Maive's world.
Knowing that these stories were going to be in poetry form didn't decide how I was going to write them. Poetry can be written many different ways, and there's a lot of minutiae to consider. The Snail and the Whale and The Way Home for Wolf are written in rhyming couplets, as are many poems in A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh selection. A.A. Milne's work also varies dramatically in terms of form and structure. Poems like Brownie use alternate rhyming lines and short verses, whereas Market Square follows a pattern of three rhyming lines and a stand-alone line, which when put together forms this structure:
A
A
A
B
C
C
C
B
There is also the question of what type of metre to use in the poems. Metre refers to the basic rhythmic structure of a line. Metre can be employed in many different forms of poetry - sonnets use iambic pentameter, meaning a line comprised of ten syllables has every other syllable stressed. Here is an example of Shakespeare's Sonnet 12, with stressed syllables indicated by a / and unstressed syllables indicated by a x:
× / × / × / × / × / When I do count the clock that tells the time × / × / × / × / × / To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
Iambic pentameter is one of the most commons forms of metre used in western poetry, where the number of feet is frequently substituted so as not to confine poetry to 10 syllable lines. It is definitely one of the most appealing forms, with its lilting rise and fall, it makes it natural to read and speak. By having two rhyming lines of iambic pentameter, they form a heroic couplet.
However, as important as technical structure is, my experience has showed me that there's a flow to writing poetry that can sometimes transcend beats in a line and lines in a verse. So with my research in mind, I decided to try my hand at writing one of the poems. I chose to tackle this chronologically, so I began with the fable of the magpie and the dog:
There once was a magpie who lived in a tree,
Grumpy and grouchy and greedy was he.
“There’s an abundance of birds in this forest!” He cried,
“But not one piece of treasure easily spied.”
There once was a dog who came by the tree,
Who was merry and chipper; happy as could be.
“What thing in this world could bring you such pleasure?”
Dog smiled and replied, “I’m searching for treasure.”
“Far to the north there’s a river that winds
Through the deep forest, and eventually finds
The wide-open prairies, grasses green and gold.
Look up! You’ll see the mountains of old.
That’s where the wonder I’m seeking is found!”
With a wag of his tail, off went the hound.
“Forget this old tree! The riches here are too few.”
The magpie bid home farewell, and off he flew.
He flew to the north, to the river that wound,
Followed it to the prairies, looked up and he found
The old mountains looming, stacked high in the skies.
“That’s it!” Cried the magpie. “That’s where treasure lies!”
The magpie flew and he flew and he flew,
With each beat of his wings, the closer he grew
To the promise of gold and riches galore,
To diamonds and rubies and infinitely more.
He found a chest perched near the mountain’s peak,
He landed beside it, opened it with his beak.
But to his dismay, what lay there inside,
A pile of old bones wrapped in a cow hide.
His hopes shattered, his heart on the floor,
The magpie knew not what to do anymore.
The dog arrived, the magpie scowled and pointed.
“If you’re looking for treasure, you’ll be disappointed.”
But the dog dug into the chest, wagging his behind.
“This is the greatest treasure I ever could find!”
So it goes to show, if you’re greedy and brash,
You might find one person’s treasure is another one’s trash.
I knew the basic structure for this fable, however I took care whilst writing it to include a change of environment that would match the mechanic of a 2D side scroller. The actual meter isn't iambic, with more unstressed syllables than stressed. This was probably due to re-reading The Way Home for Wolf before I wrote it, meaning I was echoing the "music" of another book:
The Way Home for Wolf
x x / x x / x x / x x /
As a rainbow of lights flickered soft in the night,
x x / x x / x x / x x /
Dusting diamonds of ice in a desert of white,
x / / / x x / x x /
The wild, whipping wind, it whistled its tune
x x / x x / x x / x x /
To a howling of wolves and a shimmering moon.
The Magpie and the Treasure
x / x x / x x / x x /
There once was a magpie who lived in a tree,
/ x x / x x / x x /
Grumpy and grouchy and greedy was he.
x x x / x x / x x / x x /
“There’s an abundance of birds in this forest!” He cried,
x x / x x / x / x x /
“But not one piece of treasure easily spied.”
For the most part, both pieces feature a one beat on, two beats off, rhythm. This still gives it a stride but means the pacing is a little more relaxed. My poem has a nice arc to it as well, a miniature heroes journey, featuring the ordinary world, the call to adventure, travelling, and then cut off by disappointment/failure that is frequently inherent to fables. After getting people to read the poem, as well as performing it out loud and making minor tweaks, I deemed this poem finished.
An idea occurred between the first and second poems. I wanted to make the poetry more complex as the game went along, reflecting in the verse the development of Maive as these stories reflect her own personal journey.
I got this idea from Hamilton, the hip-hop musical about one of America's founding fathers, in which the titular character's rapping style develops throughout the musical. The complexity of his verse also contrasts those around him, as seen in the comparison between the other characters in "Aaron Burr, Sir", and Hamilton in "My Shot":
John Laurens "Aaron Burr, Sir" (beginning of Act 1):
Yo, I'm John Lauren's in the place to be Two pints o' Sam Adams, but I'm workin' on three, uh Those redcoats don't want it with me 'Cause I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I'm free
vs.
Alexander Hamilton "My Shot" (beginning of Act 1):
I'ma get a scholarship to King's College I prob'ly shouldn't brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish The problem is I got a lot of brains but no polish I gotta holler just to be heard With every word, I drop knowledge I'm a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal Tryin' to reach my goal my power of speech, unimpeachable
Alexander Hamilton, "We Know" (late Act 2):
As you can see I kept a record of every check in my checkered history Check it again against your list n' see consistency I never spent a cent that wasn't mine You sent the dogs after my scent, that's fine
Hamilton's verse includes a lot of rhymes within lines ("shouldn't brag but dag" and "just to be heard with every word") which is a level of complexity that the other characters don't have. This, compared to his verse in Act 2, seems basic. His later rapping includes even more assonance (similarity of sequential vowels and consonant sounds) and rhyming ("As you can see I kept a record of every CHECK in my CHECKERED history, CHECK it again against your list n' see consistency, I never spent a cent that wasn't mine, you sent the dogs after my scent, that's fine"). This demonstrates the intellectual and personal growth undergone by Hamilton over the musical in a visceral way to the audience.
So when I wrote the second poem, I decided to change the rhyming pattern to move away from heroic couplets and towards alternating rhyming lines.
In the heart of the rainforest, where the air’s hot,
Where the sun presses through the canopy dome,
Where the trees grow tall around a lush little spot,
A moon bear searches for a home.
The moon bear was brave, and the moon bear was very strong,
For herself she knew very well how to fend.
There was a clearing of soft earth that she came along,
That brought her journey to an end.
“I’ll build my house on this spot,” she mused to herself,
“This spot in the sun will make a lovely home,
It will be strong and tall, and I’ll build it myself,
And from here I will never roam.”
She gathered many logs and she built for a while,
And company surely never was missed,
But along came an atlas beetle wearing a smile,
And he asked if he could assist.
The bear tossed the beetle an incredulous stare,
“You are simply a beetle, small as could be.
I don’t need your help, what are you even doing here?
No! You cannot help me.”
The bear went on building, yet the very next day
The beetle came crawling out to her site.
He looked a log up and down in a quizzical way,
And pushed it with all of his might.
But the log didn’t move, and the moon bear just snorted,
“I told you beetle; I don’t need a thing from you.”
The beetle crossed its arms and promptly retorted,
“I just don’t believe that that’s true.
“You are strong and brave and capable for certain,
You can build up your house, and put on your airs,
But when the play is over and down drops the curtain,
You’ll be needing someone who cares.”
The moon bear ignored him and continued to build,
And by sundown her new home was all but complete.
She curled up inside as the air became chilled
In her home of made of logs and peat.
When the sun rose next day, it struck the forest on fire,
Flames licked at the ground and the trunks of the trees.
The moon bear dashed to her window to stare at the pyre
And watched other animals flee.
She went for the door, but the lock had jammed into place,
She panicked as she stared through the peephole.
On the other side stared back a familiar face
Of the little atlas beetle.
“Little beetle, my unkindness to you is no shock,
“I’ve been rude, and you think me cruel, I bet,
But if you use your horns to turn open my lock
I’ll be forever in your debt.”
The atlas beetle showed no signs of hesitation,
His little horns worked just as good as a key,
The door swept open and with a fresh determination,
The bear and beetle ran free.
“How can I repay you? Without you I could have died!”
The moon bear exclaimed once they’d reached forest’s end.
The beetle asked for no payment, simply replied
“I did it because you’re my friend.”
This first draft of the poem was hard to write, as there is more content in this one than the first. In order to make the bear a sympathetic character, I felt like I needed to justify her pride and inability to ask for help. In doing so, I added extra verses to the poem that weighed it down, and extra characters that, were I writing a book instead of a poem, I would have cut out as being "purple prose".
I also tweaked the characters and the plot to better suit my needs. In order to have an atlas beetle and a bear coexisting, that bear would have to be from a tropical place, and with some research I found sun and moon bears native to Malaysian rainforests that fit the bill. But in making the characters so specific, the fable lost some of its traditional atmosphere.
In terms of form, I also made three of the lines the same length, with the fourth coming in at an average of four beats shorter. This was inspired by The Four Friends by A.A. Milne, which follows a similar pattern. It is a less traditional structure and felt like it captured the development I wanted to show. That said, my version of this structure felt clunky, the lines felt laborious to read, even when they were edited to have the exact same number of beats per line. It didn't warm the heart in its simplicity like The Magpie and the Treasure did, and didn't even capture a moral succinctly.
I rewrote the poem from scratch, changing characters, form and also plot:
There was a bear within the wood
Who did much more than others could.
She was the strongest of them all
(At least that’s what she could recall.)
She decided she would have to move
To find others to whom she’d prove
Her undisputable magnificence,
And so she left the wood there, hence.
She found a spot next to the sea,
That she determined had to be
As good a place as any near
For the great bear to reappear.
She began to build a house of sand,
When a firefly came to lend a hand.
The bear she snorted, “Can’t you see?”
“There’s no greater builder than me.
“I need no help; I need no aid.”
But the firefly tried to persuade,
“You may be strong, but it could be grand
To let me lend a helping hand.”
At this Bear laughed; his hands were small,
He could not help her out at all.
“Firefly, I need no chaperone,
I can do this on my own.”
The firefly left, but there grew a large crowd,
To watch her work, and she was proud.
As evening waned, her house had grown
And she took her place upon her throne.
The crowd, they cheered, but then the tide
Swept in and knocked her house aside.
As the current pulled her out to sea,
The bear watched all the others flee.
Adrift in waters inky black,
The bear could not see her way back.
“It’s too dark!” She began to cry,
But then appeared the firefly.
“I know the way, follow my light!”
So the bear swam with all her might,
And as the rain began to pour,
The firefly led her to the shore.
Upon the sand they stopped to rest,
“Perhaps I don’t always know best,
I need more help than I accepted,”
The bear sighed as she reflected.
Gazing at the ruined homestead,
The firefly, he gently said,
“You’re capable, and that’s for certain,
But your pride became a burden.
“You may be strong and full of might,
But we all could use a friendly light.”
This version of the second fable kept to a very strict structure; each line is 8 syllables long, with strictly consistent iambic pentameter in four line verses comprised of heroic couplets. My initial struggle with finding a secondary character for this fable who had an inherent skill necessary for the success of the bear came to a head as I tossed all previous options aside and chose a firefly, whose light would be visually impactful in the gameplay. A light leading someone home is also a classic trope in a lot of traditional fiction, and felt predictable but poetic. "Seeing the light" might as well be the sub-heading for this chapter in Maive's life, so the metaphor becomes a visual one in the context of the story.
This iteration of the fable is punchier, more rhythmic and more concise. When I read it to others, and when others read it themselves, it evoked much more emotion than the previous iteration. The moral is clearer, but the bear is still a sympathetic character, without being burdened by a backstory that meanders from the point of the fable.
Having put aside the idea of poems increasingly in complexity, I decided to stick with the heroic couplets for the final poem. The beats per line stays the same as the previous poem, however the versus are lengthened from 4 lines to 6 as it allows for more action to happen per verse before being punctuated by a gap.
Late one pretty summer’s day
A little cat went out to play,
Played in the grass and in the wood,
Played all the places kittens should,
But when the night came sinking down
His mother called him back to town.
Next day the cat asked if he might
Stay out a little late that night,
His mother frowned and shook her head,
“At night you must come back for bed.
While the sun is up, you’re free to roam,
But once it’s down, please come back home.”
The kitten didn’t like that much,
He went outside to play and such,
But when the dusk stopped chirping birds
He didn’t heed his mother’s words,
The dark crept in along with frost,
And Kitten wailed “Oh dear, I’m lost!”
The next day his mother went out,
Her voice it rose from call to shout.
The kitten was too far to hear,
He huddled in a bush in fear
Until the stars, they reeled ahead,
And Kitten really missed his bed.
The second day his mother left,
And even though she felt bereft
She filled a basket up with trout
And then scattered them about.
She closed her eyes and made a wish
That he would smell the scent of fish.
On the morning of the third day
The kitten was still far away,
But morning breeze, it wafted through
A smell far too good to be true,
He leapt to his feet and he ran
To find out where the scent began.
He found the first of the big trout,
And saw them scattered all about,
And snuffling like a little mouse
He followed the trail to his house,
His mother cried and held him close,
“I’m glad you’re home, one I love most.”
Those I presented this poem to found it sufficiently heartwarming, whilst also thinking it made sense. The lower syllable count definitely made this particular poem more challenging to write - I'd frequently have to rewrite a sentence in reverse to minimise the amount of articles I used. For example, I originally wrote the line "But morning breeze, it wafted through" as "But the morning breeze, it wafted through". This threw off the iambic pentameter, however, which I noticed when reading the poem aloud for the first time. This is the benefit of always reading any written work aloud, to work out the kinks in rhythm, and is particularly useful when writing poetry. It also gives a good idea of pacing and flow.
With a few tweaks to certain lines here and there, my poems were finished. They can be edited at any time, which may be necessary when we start testing the book mechanic and seeing how people respond to them in the context of the game, rather than simply as a spoken or read piece of poetry.