INTRODUCTION.
I wish I’d seen this contest a week before and not on the afternoon of the deadline, but here’s my review.
MY SUMMARY AND REVIEW.
“Safe” whisked me away into a fairytale-inspired Nirvana, where below its sparkling exterior lurked dark secrets and missing girls. Though its initial rambling and drowsy atmosphere risked alienating the reader, it was intermixed with enough threat and unusualness that it retained attention. Interestingly, the story revolved around a nameless narrator who referred to himself as a fool and told the player his story, setting the player’s role as a listener. Peppered with colorful language and a bone-weary, cynical tone, the narrator boasted a compelling voice that often overpowered the story.
Deeper into the story, “Safe” remained consistent in its gloomy tone and atmosphere, reminding me of noir settings in which washed-up detectives search for answers among whiskey glasses and dangerous cases. Vivid details and strong metaphors painted lively yet dark scenes, examples being Hans “single-handedly fighting World War III with the beer keg” and “needing subtitles” as his accent emerged while drinking. Even better were the characters whose strong personalities made them leap off the pages, an example being the gun-toting, foul-mouthed Gretel and her gentler but tough brother Hans. The excellent dialogue quickly got to the point and revealed more of the characters’ traits that felt like a natural discovery as opposed to being told.
As for the story itself, it contained interesting events that were often diverted or dragged out by the narrator’s rambling, making it difficult to follow. It was slow to begin, sped up, and then quickly ended. It mostly remained linear with few choices, giving a sense that the narrator controlled the path, although Hans’s storyline gave a little more interactivity. However, if the player made the “wrong” choice, it led to an ending that somewhat felt natural and satisfactory compared to the abrupt endings in Red’s storyline.
Overall, “Safe” was an interesting read with an unusual take on the fairytale characters. Combined with slow pacing and frequent interjections from the narrator, it felt difficult to get into, but the twisted, creative metaphors felt like a burst of flavor amidst the depressing atmosphere. Though I don’t regret taking the time to read it, I felt several aspects could’ve possibly been adjusted to enhance the story and its comprehension.
POSSIBLE IMPROVEMENTS.
First, perhaps the narrator’s rambling could have been reduced for better pacing. Although his thoughts and metaphors gave him a strong voice, they also detracted from the story for two reasons.
The first is he interrupted the story too frequently. For instance, the beginning felt like it dragged and took too long to establish the setting. The reason is whenever the narrator introduced a new story element, he sometimes spent another paragraph or more on his musings. For example, after he stated the story began in a bar, the paragraph about protection left me impatient, and I felt it could have just been: “It starts as many good stories do: in a bar. Two characters emerge, the stranger and the fool. Guess which I am?”
Another example is when the narrator asked the reader if they knew what question the German man asked, only to ramble some more. By then, with the frequent interruptions, the story felt too slow and had not yet even reached the action. Perhaps it could have simply been something like (to add suspense without spoiling the details):
Answer: “I don’t know.”
Narrator: Neither did I at the time. I didn’t know how much it’d change my life. But he spoke of his home. The place I call Nirvana.
And soon, I’d see it.
You too.
For the other answer (“more on your broken heart”), since the narrator would later speak of fate and why Hans chose him, I felt the paragraph was redundant.
The second reason for a reduction in the narrator’s commentary is that it often felt unclear or unrelated. With such a mysterious, dreamlike setting, it only added more confusion (ex: Apparently a universal sign. I know, I know, maybe a bit insensitive for California, where there are countless teams on the field, and the rules of scoring are just as obscure).
An example is the bar scene in which the narrator met the German, but the immersion felt diluted by the frequent commentary in parentheses, some of which was difficult to understand and/or didn’t add anything (ex: If ESL folks regress when buzzed/tipsy/drunk/etc., I do the same with improper speech. The Gs become non-essential: What are you looking at? Nothin to see here.). Because the scene was already painted with gorgeous, colorful metaphors, the commentary felt like an overload and kept taking me out. It was like speaking on the phone, only for someone next to me to continuously interrupt my conversation.
Perhaps instead, it may look something like:
At the end of the bar, I hunched over a Bream on the rocks - it was cheap whiskey. Binging on a budget. Over the dingy speakers, Kurt Cobain screamed about Teen Spirit. A heavy fog of smoke wafted through the air, so thick that I already knew my lungs were blackening (alternative: “so thick I already felt the cancer growing in my lungs”).
I was waiting for my ice to melt when a man plopped down next to me, the bar stool groaning beneath his weight. Big son of a bitch. Broad shoulders. Blond hair shaved close, nearly bald.
He ordered a pilsner.
Another example is the conversation about Hans’s origins, and I felt the paragraph “drink enough booze, and it’ll . . .” and the anecdote about the homeless man (though interesting) felt unrelated and interrupted the pacing.
Another suggestion is to perhaps condense the metaphors and details. Because they fill much of the story, too many long ones can feel overwhelming or like a digression. For example, when the narrator first introduced his role in the story as the fool, perhaps his metaphors could have been reduced for readability and quicker establishment (because it’s still an interruption from the story). It may look something like:
No, but that’s nice of you to think. I am the fool. Have been since my first breath and every subsequent one.
Oh, to be the stranger, a mysterious figure cloaked in black, perhaps sitting at the corner of the bar or tavern. A man with an unshaved, dusting beard, yet still maintained to the degree of civility. Yes, make me that hero. He’s Strider in Lord of the Rings, the Gunslinger in The Dark Tower.
But I’m the fool. And unlike in the fantasy tales, the fool is not a hero in reality. He doesn’t rescue princesses to marry, nor win battles or conquer evil rulers to - hey, surprise, surprise - be the long-lost heir of the rightful king.
No, he trips over his own feet. Drinks spoiled milk. Forgets to pay rent. And when he looks within the mirror, he sees not his reflection - but a disappointed version of himself, hands on his hips, head shaking at the lost cause. I’d trade places if I could. Lock myself in that glass rectangle and let my reflection take responsibility. See how he likes it.
Chances are, he’d end up in the same place as I am now. Drunk. Alone in the bar.
Here, the lights were low, and the music loud.
Another example is when the narrator encountered Catalina. Though the metaphors were creative and vivid, their constant usage and the narrator’s “quirky” comments reduced their impact. Instead, maybe try spacing them out, so it feels more unique when it occurs like a burst of flavor. Perhaps it could instead be something like:
I stepped inside. It was empty, weirdly so, like the architect accidentally added an extra zero to his measurements. I felt like a kid wearing his dad’s boots, two sizes too big. And speaking of which, a shiny pair faced me, brilliant black like the back of a fat beetle. Slowly, I looked up into the face of a tan woman, her vivid red lips pursed in a smirk.
“Catalina?”
“Who’s askin’?”
A heavy Spanish accent mixed with her voice, the tone cocky, like an outdoor cat who hadn’t lost a single life.
“I’m a friend of Hans,” I said. “I need a place to rest a while.”
Her sharp eyes peered at me, gleaming in the low lights. “Hansel, that sonofabitch,” she purred.
“How many nights will this get me?” I took the pouch of gold and conservatively pulled a quarter of its contents.
Catalina raised a groomed eyebrow. Reluctantly, I pulled out another quarter.
Furthermore, the narrator constantly referred back to Nirvana and his role as “the fool”, which grew redundant.
In addition, perhaps consider a deeper focus on important story events and improving pacing. The story contained interesting elements: the narrator stepping into Nirvana and either being faced with a missing girl case or a spunky reporter escaping her death, depending on the player’s choices. Hans’s storyline felt stronger as each character had a distinctive, important role to play, and the player was presented with more choices. I particularly enjoyed the encounter with Cinderella and found her endearing.
However, Red’s storyline felt muddled with drawn out scenes of the narrator drinking or sleeping, and pages were often dedicated to unrelated thoughts. The limited choices nudged the player into a more linear storyline, and the endings felt confusing, such as the narrator turning on Red. It felt like at some point, the story’s threads started to unravel and split into different directions, sometimes not going anywhere.
One way to improve the focus is to remove distracting or unnecessary scenes. For instance, if the player chose to part ways with Hans, they’d encounter Red’s storyline. To maintain attention and pacing, a method may be to summarize the hotel scene/walk and remove the anecdote about Jill, instead jumping faster to the bar scene which is the action. Catalina and Jack never reappear again anyway, and the player never returns to the hotel.
CONCLUSION.
Overall, I felt that minimizing the narrator's rambling, reducing the metaphors and details, and establishing a more distinct storyline would benefit the story. Other than that, “Safe” contained many strengths as mentioned before, reflecting the author’s unique skill with words and creativity. Though the story could’ve been clearer at times, it still painted a beautiful yet depressing picture of a man who could never be the hero. With strong descriptions, it invited the reader to view life through the narrator’s twisted, dirty lens. And in the end, though he sought to escape his failures and disappointments through Nirvana, his problems still trailed after him, and he only traded one twisted world for another.
