Welcome to the article in which I explain/track my process for writing book 4 in the Wildebyte Arcades (Uptopia Falls).
As explained in the previous writing diaries, I wrote the first ~5 books of the Wildebyte in one go (before publishing the first). I wanted to flesh out the world and try different approaches before settling one a structure I could repeat for the whole series. As such, this fourth book is—again—very different from the others.
What’s the idea?
The previous books had many similarities.
- Wildebyte interacted with a lot of characters.
- They were the main obstacle standing between WB and their goal—not necessarily the game. (In fact, the game was very simple and barely being played.)
- WB ultimately just tries to get their Lost Memory.
That’s why I wanted to try a book in which ….
- They are alone most of the time.
- The major storyline is them playing one round of this game.
- And they simply can’t leave their game unless they win. (At first, WB isn’t looking for a memory or being hindered by other characters.)
This led to the following initial idea.
- This book parodies the “endless jumper” games. (Happy Jump / Jelly Jump / Rise Up / Etcetera)
- At the start, WB enters this game and falls down to the bottom. As such, they need to climb back up to even leave the game.
- This means simply playing the game, jumping upward, level after level, until they reach the top.
Those types of games are simple and popular, hence a good fit for one of the earlier books. It also fit the game design lesson very well: people love progression and growth.
As such, my parody on these games is a little more “structured” than they usually are. (With clear levels, with different rules or physics, so you have a tangible way to track progress. Just a highscore—“hey, now we have 157 points”—doesn’t really say much.)
Finally, we need some urgency and extra interest. I had two ideas for this.
- Wildebyte discovers this game has a special approach to motivate Players. As soon as one Player reaches the end, they win a great prize and the game shuts down forever.
- Wildebyte also discovers (a bit later) that the prize at the top fluctuates: it changes every week/month. At a certain point, they hear the prize is an “object with a purple glow”—a Lost Memory of theirs. This increases urgency halfway through the novel.
I had some smaller ideas about fun scenes or characters, but this is the gist of it.
Choose your own adventure?
As I write these books, I keep coming back to the idea of making these novels “choose your own adventure”. It feels fitting, right? Turning novels about video games into actual games?
But it’s not as straightforward as you’d think. Many games rely on other skills—such as dexterity, intuition, split-second decisions—to be fun and challenging. Making a “decision” really only works in slower games where you have the time and knowledge to make informed decisions.
For example, in a jumper game like this … what decisions could I give? Your only goal is to go up. All you can do is jump.
I could say: “there’s a platform to your right with a coin, and a platform to your left with a treasure chest—which one do you pick?”
When given time to think about it, however, there is usually an obvious right answer here. And if there isn’t? If both are equally good? Then it’s not really a meaningful choice.
As I consider this, I see that it would only work …
- For certain games, not all.
- If I structure the decisions around other things, such as emotional moments for Wildebyte, or which character you want to play before starting a run.
This is something I’m still exploring. In fact, this was the reason I took a break from Wildebyte for several months.
In the meantime, I figured it out :)
Firstly, I slowly figured out the technical part. How can I write a story that references other chapters? And still use my easy automatic process for turning the book into both a digital and physical version?
Secondly, I realized I needed to experiment with this to regain motivation for this book. (I don’t have “motivation” for anything really, which is a side-effect of being hyperactive, so I use challenges and tricks to make myself productive.)
Thirdly, I found the obvious way to apply this to the story.
When I improvised the first chapter, the story immediately turned into more of a spy story. There were two sides: the Jumpers and the Droppers. The first is responsible for going up, the other for going down. Obviously, they need each other to make the game work, but they hate each other all the same.
Both sides pull on Wildebyte by claiming the other side has his Lost Memory and that he should investigate there. The obvious choice here, at the end of chapter 1, is which side to pick!
- Go to the Jumpers? (You get a few chapters investigating their area and powers.)
- Or go to the Droppers? (You get a few chapters investigating their area and powers.)
I don’t know if this is the right call or if it will work out at all. But it motivates me to write again, so for now Uptopia Falls is an interactive choose-your-own-adventure book!
Revising chapter 1
As usual, writing chapter 1 shows you all the ways to not start this story.
- I already started with too many mechanics. (The player could already aim their jump, there was already a moving platform, etcetera. Not good! We need to start barebones, barely able to get higher, and gain more abilities as we get further into the game.)
- The Jumpers and Droppers were invented on the spot, so they were pretty much identical. I needed to differentiate them more. (The Jumpers can literally only go up and not come down without the help of a Dropper.)
- Similarly, I started with too many goals: both “get out of this game” and “get my lost memory”. For now, it’s probably simplest if Wildebyte just wants to get out.
- The fact that this will be a spy-mystery-type-story isn’t clear enough.
I had another writing crisis. You know, those moments when you realize how much you don’t understand, how much every story idea sucks, how your stories are just not on the level of the “other writers”.
Fortunately, I’ve developed quite positive habits around my mental wellbeing. I stepped back and let it rest for a week, merely watching and reading some writing tips and stories by others.
As usual, this sparked some better ideas and smarter ways to approach this story. Two weeks later—I wrote a Saga of Life story as well to take a longer break from Wildebyte—I had a new plan.
The new plan
Lesson 1: write in chunks. Divide the story into 4 or 5 short stories, which focus on one particular thing. This helps break down the overwhelming task of “writing a book” into much smaller, achievable tasks. It’s also a method of storytelling that I really like to see and have seen in recent successful stories.
My initial chunk ideas were:
- Chunk 1: Introduce unique rules and mysteries of this game world.
- Chunk 2: Figure out how to jump and rapidly move upwards.
- Chunk 3: Get sidetracked chasing either the Lost Memory or a Mysterious Figure.
- Chunk 4: The last jump seems impossible, forcing WB to use all they’ve learned from the previous chunks to basically instigate a rebellion between the “low characters” and the “high characters”. (And, as usual, this makes the device even more mad at them somehow.)
(Remember that Wildebyte is at most ~40,000 words, so each chunk is ~10,000 words, which is a length short enough for me to tackle.)
Lesson 2: focus on tough moral or emotional dilemmas. Pick something ordinary that readers can relate to, then turn it extraordinary (which you usually do through magic or plot conveniences).
I decided the very first chapter must be a decision already. In fact, each decision in this interactive story should be a tough dilemma.
I found three ordinary, relatable feelings in the Wildebyte that could be used.
- His anger at the researchers and what they did to him; get revenge.
- His desire for companionship and belonging; to not be hated and cast out by the device.
- His desire for answers or escaping; get his lost memories, beat the games, get out.
Dilemmas should provide a choice between two of those feelings. In fact, it should tempt Wildebyte with something they know is naughty or wrong, by providing it on a silver platter.
So, what’s our new start?
The gist is …
- Wildebyte falls into this new game. They get short glimpses of the main character playing it (a character who seems to be unable to speak … hmm, interesting) as they fall to the bottom.
- Wildebyte repeats the end of the last novel (always a smart thing): they want to work together with the device, finally be accepted, which requires him cleaning up all his Lost Memories. The Memory Police told him explicitly that the Wildebyte would find nobody to talk to here. (They are also really angry at the researchers for doing this to them.)
- As they hit the floor, however, they immediately bump into a shady figure.
- After a short chase/scuffle, they flee, but leave behind some evidence: this shows that the creature is connected to the researchers and what they’re up to.
- As Wildebyte wants to chase the mysterious figure, they notice a Lost Memory on the other side of the game.
- Now make your choice, reader!
- (This feeds into that original idea of there being two factions inside the game. Each choice leads to another one, of course.)
Yes, it will take a few chapters before you actually learn what the game is and start playing it. That’s a new approach (compared to previous books). I just want to try these new lessons and see what they teach me or what they do to the story.
The mysterious figure comes from a tiny idea I read in my notes: the researchers dropped something important in this game and must use that figure to get it out.
The main character who cannot communicate had a similar origin: they misbehaved, which caused the native entities to hamstring them this way. This is exactly why this is a “spy” story: the Jumpers and Droppers went into hiding after this action from the device.
Let’s just write now
We have a solid plan. The two weeks off generated more ideas than can even fit in this one book.
At this point, I always decide to just start and see where we end up. The chunks are small enough to focus on just one per week—exactly why I wanted to use that approach.
How did that go?
First of all, I realized after writing chapter 1 that I’d reversed my options. The original plan was:
- Chasing that shady figure leads to The Jumpers, who are friendly but mysterious
- Chasing the Lost Memory leads to The Droppers, who are hostile because they’ve been commanded to “destroy Wildebyte” from someone at the top
But … the whole idea of that Lost Memory is that it’s the reward for getting to the top. So the only entities who would know about that and could help him are the Jumpers. So it made way more sense to switch these around.
I also tried a little trick to keep the story manageable (despite being interactive/giving decisions): both sides have some common information, such as that command to “destroy Wildebyte”. This allows merging different paths later and continuing, because the reader has the same necessary setup either way.
Chapters 1-10
Otherwise known as “how on earth do you write a choose-your-own-adventure story?”
As usual with new projects or challenges, I initially really struggle. Like, I’m spending a day just staring at my screen, scribbling notes like a madman, but none of it works or makes sense.
I write a few chapters, knowing I’ll probably scrap them tomorrow, but I do it to keep some momentum.
Until, after a while, after thinking about it long enough (perhaps a good night’s sleep), your brain makes some connections and breakthroughs.
Rule 1
Rule 1: I don’t want storylines to (almost) all end up in the same place. In other words, no matter your decision, all threads merge anyway at some point. Perhaps there’s only one ending at all.
I made one interactive book before—a Dutch picture book looong ago—that used this trick. And although it’s fine for little kids, it’s just disappointing for anybody beyond that.
As such, I planned a loose structure where I divided the book into
- Sets of two chapters
- With a decision (between A or B) at the end of such a set
- But the decisions are staggered in a way to guarantee you’ll end up at different places.
- And I gave myself three possible endings. (It should still be a short Wildebyte book. There’s no room for more endings, unless I don’t devote an entire chapter to them, but that didn’t feel right.)
No, if we make an interactive book, make it really interactive.
Rule 2
Rule 2: This is mostly an extension of the first rule. To make it really interactive, I wanted to use the branching structure to make a point.
There is one branch that almost immediately gets you to the end ( = gets Wildebyte to the top of the mountain). The ending is one of sadness. Wildebyte feels empty for not actually playing, not actually growing and progressing, and still “winning”.
There is another branch that cycles back. You have the choice to let yourself fall (despite being near the top, after struggling for so many chapters) and repeat the book from somewhere near the start. This illustrates the idea of the game loop. To retry the same level, but now making different choices, to allow growth and progression again.
(Not sure if I explained that already in this devlog. But the game design lesson here is that fun for humans comes from growth and progression. True for games, also true for stories, for example. Whatever the situation, when writing a novel you want to progress in some way each chapter, others momentum dies and it becomes a slog to read.)
In fact, to make this work, there are hints from the start that WIldebyte has already done this loop several times.
Thirdly, I had a fun idea about creating an “unknown origin”. One of the mysteries is who is giving that command from the top (to destroy/annoy/whatever Wildebyte). And what is the original command, because the entities keep mishearing it?
Well, in that one branch you find out that it’s Wildebyte itself. They ask the others to “employ Wildebyte”, to use and include them more during gameplay. Which is just funny to me, because now this information has no origin, like a time travel paradox. (Wildebyte travels up there because of that command, only to end up giving the command.)
Rule 3
Rule 3: We use some tricks to keep all this “branching” of storylines under control.
- The Quadruple Spy: I already had a plan to use one character as a funny sidekick that constantly reveals they’re “a spy” “oh no, a double spy!” “I am a triple spy!” This is great, because now we can just let them reveal themselves as a spy over and over, and it always works no matter where you came from. (Also, because they’re a spy, their true name and appearance is unknown/vague, so that also helps.)
- The Optional Chapters: There is one “required” branch, if you will. Wildebyte must work its way up, learn the game, get to the top. As such, no matter your path, you must walk a few of those required chapters. But around them—literally alternating with them—are optional chapters. They give extra information about the main character for example, or the Memory Police gives the game a visit. They might recontextualize a few things, or lead to an action sequence, but they mostly have no influence on the overall thread.
- Cog Counting: the movement/abilities you have in this game are directly related to the number of cogs that are on your robotic body. As such, I need to make sure readers always have the same number of cogs coming into a chapter where this is relevant. These are mostly the required chapters where you actually play the game. This added a nice restriction to when I could add—or had to find a reason to remove—a cog.
Restrictions are often good in creative pursuits. In this case, I only figured out how to write the first ten chapters once I had those restrictions on what could or couldn’t happen. It limits the options to a smaller space, one that allows easier decision making when you open the document to write the next chapter.
Where are we now?
This being a branching story, the chapters aren’t in order. I wrote most of the start, but then one ending and a few in-between. Basically, I picked one “branch” about which I was quite certain and just wrote that first.
This means about half the book is done, but we’re mostly missing the middle.
I quite like the book now that it really uses the interactive setup to do some cool stuff. Even though the story itself and the characters are, if I say so myself, a bit flimsier and less rich than other stories. Then again, this is what I have to do to make extremely simple games (such as “vertical jumper”) into larger stories.
The story was also at risk of being way longer than the others, so chapters are even shorter. (This also helps re-readability, if that’s a word, because it’s annoying if you have to read really long chapters multiple times to get through all the branches.)
At least it’s an experiment that helped me start writing.
What I really need to find out now, is what to do with the middle.
- I had a subplot idea about instigating a revolution among the Droppers and Jumpers. (Against their overlords giving commands from above and/or the Native Entities.)
- I had a subplot idea about an actual spy mission (that theme is a bit underused right now) to execute.
When I have multiple things to do, I usually combine them. Hit two birds with one stone. Solve five problems with one smart rule change in a game.
So I decided the following vague outline.
- Wildebyte goes on a mission to extract secret information from the one person/place who knows what is actually happening. Someone high up the chain, maybe a Native Entity living there.
- This goes wrong in some ways, but right in the way that the information is released. And when Wildebyte spreads it, this causes the rebellion.
Then I let the story rest for a week. (I found a rhythm of alternating Wildebyte with Saga of Life that seems to work: write 50% of a WB book one week, then 100% of a new Saga of Life story next week, and so forth.)
Chapters 10–20
I don’t have much interesting to say about these chapters.
They are the muddy middle of the story, in which I just power through and apply my original plans. I know they’re not perfect. (It usually ends up a bit messy / unfocused and too slow / too fast.)
But I need to write them anyway, so I can fix all those issues once the story is done!
The toughest parts were …
- Keeping the chapters interesting where WB enters a new level and tries to jump up.
- Figuring out the secret mission->rebellion and how it plays out specifically. (Writing that once isn’t too hard. Writing it in a way that allows multiple choices/branches within a choice story … is another matter entirely.)
I can only invent so many descriptions of a game layout, and so many paragraphs of action (jumping, failing, jumping again) until it becomes repetitive and cumbersome.
As such, the later chapters mostly focus on other things … while WB is jumping upwards. For example, as they cross level 4, the real meat of the chapters is how they finish our explanation of how “jumping” works in a game and how it sets up the tough decision at the end.
Additionally, I decided to skip this whole routine for the final level (level 5).
In all possible endings, level 5 is “impossible”. That’s why the rebellion is needed, that’s why the reader learns about vectors and how jumping works (numerically). So that WIldebyte can apply that information in a big trick to cross that impossible gap.
It’s the best way I found to …
- Merge all story threads created throughout the book, giving it all a “meaning” or “resolution”. (If you spend time teaching some skill to the main character, they better use it for something crucial at some point.)
- Prevent repetitive actions or goals with too many paragraphs about jumping to the next platform :p
The Endings
As stated at the start, I didn’t want a choice story that …
- Practically only had one ending. (No matter your choices, that’s where you end up. If you do that, what’s the point of a choice story?)
- Or that had multiple endings that are wildly different and equally valid. (It’s pretty hard to write the next book if the previous one had 5 completely different endings. Additionally, it gives the reader no reason to actually retry and pick another path.)
So I sought a perfect middle ground. This emerged, mostly organically, as 3 endings.
In all of them, Wildebyte reaches the top and is able to exit the game. (This is pretty much a requisite to make the start of the next book smooth.)
The differences are that …
- In one of them, they don’t get their Lost Memory, but they do achieve everything else.
- In another, they do get their Lost Memory, but at the cost of everything else (the game/characters they met/etcetera) => the reverse
- And in the third, they basically skipped the entire game (you can reach this ending very quickly). They get everything … and nothing at the same time. It makes them feel hollow and nudges the reader to go back and actually “experience” the story.
- This is mostly to make a point, about how games are about the journey and not the destination, about the progress and not the victory.
- But it also helped structure other choices and add some small explanations for secrets.
Each ending is truly different. But none is 100% “good” or “the correct ending”, nor is any truly worthless.
With each book I write, I notice the chapter with the Lost Memory is often the easiest and most interesting to write. This time was no different. I guess it’s because that memory is about something in real life. It is really scarce and precious, and seems to hold more weight or “truth” than whatever happens inside video games.
I felt the same thing by introducing Beeline into this story, a real creature at risk of dying, and referencing the real world more often.
This is another reminder for myself to lean more heavily into this. If the whole adventure merely happens inside a video game—a piece of code, one instance of a game—then it feels like nothing really matters. I mean, you know Wildebyte isn’t going to die in book 4 of a long series :p All other characters are just code. Dying just means you reset and play the level again.
Also, a few of the “big reveals” near the end only came to me as I actually wrote that part. (For example, the idea that commands are passed down through the waterfalls only came when I wrote chapter 19.)
This is why revisions are a vital part of the process you just have to accept as a writer. I can make such big changes, and introduce cool ideas halfway through the story as if they were there all along, because I know I can fix all the gaps when revising. (In this case, change earlier chapters to also hint at commands passing through the waterfall. Instead of my first, very uninspired attempt that just had the Droppers/Jumpers shout the commands through a hole in their floor :p)
Conclusion
In the end, this story turned out quite special and mostly taught me a lot of new things about writing, both in general and when it comes to the Wildebyte series specifically.
For example, structuring the narrative to constantly lead to dilemmas or (hard?) choices really helps with momentum and interest. (This on top of the other things I just mentioned, such as connecting the stories to something that has stakes in the “real world”. These lessons already helped shape the next book—read the diary for that book for more info.)
I’ll probably do this more often. When stuck or bored, do another choice story, or find some other weird structure to impose on a new book. I guess I feel the freedom to play around in a book series completely about play.
Because the story itself probably could’ve been stronger. It’s the fact it’s a choice story that smartly branches and skips around that turns it into an actual book for me.
I feel, deep inside, that such a popular and common genre like “jumper games” should have received a more solid or deep story. I just couldn’t find it, and I’m not going to sit around and wait for miracles.
The important part is that it’s done. It’s written, it’s finished, it kept my interest long enough to do so, and I feel just confident enough to release it as the fourth Wildebyte book.
That might sound like a negative way to end a diary, but it’s actually quite positive. Negative would be if the book was never finished and you never read this diary at all :p
Keep reading,
Tiamo
