On Saturday, there was a peep on the Failbetter Games forums, from the moderator Flyte, to the effect that The Black Crown Project, my rather excessive, microbial, non-epic, cough-em-up, text adventure shenanigan, published by Random House, would be taken offline entirely on 31st October 2014. It has taken me a little bit longer than Flyte to respond to this news, and I can only apologise for that. I suppose my first response is to the initial comment underneath Flyte’s post, by a Failbetter forum user named Rupho Schartenhauer. It reads, “Well, I certainly won’t miss it.”
That’s a shame, Rupho Schartenhauer. I will.
Now, I’m doing my usual trick of burying the actual semes of what I am saying within a lot of asemes, so I’ll put the gist of this post out on its own, with slightly more pointed lettering, if you are only here for the grave information.
The Black Crown Project will be taken offline entirely on 31st October 2014.
This decision was one that I, Random House and Failbetter Games had to make, after a not-insignificant amount of time, concerning the project’s future. Though I am saddened, in ways that I will always find difficult to articulate, that The Black Crown Project will no longer be playable in any meaningful form, it is a decision which I was made fully part of, consulted upon, and endorse. I will miss it (Rupho), but I understand why it is disappearing below some ground.
Despite all appearance to the contrary, text adventures like Black Crown are not free to run. The hosting costs are, for a company like Random House, minimal, and would never have been a problem had we built the game on a platform which Random House owned and had developed themselves. But, as was very public, this was not the case. We partnered with Failbetter Games, and Popleaf Games, to devivsect an original story in an original corpus: facilitated, edited and promoted with Random House’s skill and experience, enlivened with Popleaf Game’s visceral flair, and skinned with Failbetter Games’ Storynexus platform, a platform which had been developed and iterated upon many times already to become an excellent tool for making branching text narratives.
However, to state that Failbetter Games was merely a ‘skinner’ would be highly insulting, and a little disgusting. I consider all of the people working at that company to be my friends and teachers. In particular, Alexis, Paul, Henry and Liam listened to my ideas with patience, interpreted them by pen, code and design and with clarity, speed and always their own deviations.
Most importantly, along with Dan Franklin, Harriet Horobin-Worley and many others at Random House, as well Berbank and Jon at Popleaf, these people taught me how to make The Black Crown Project. This is an important point, and easily overlooked. I was never entirely sure how I would actually create this thing that I had so smugly proposed and wheedled into the shockingly receptive halls of Random House. As will never not be the way with fiction, the form and process of the thing became entirely apparent by the end, with the help of everybody else. Failbetter Games rebuilt their engine to make Black Crown look and function the way it has now for a year, and will continue to for another month. They provided endless stress-testing, and links into their API for the content outside of Storynexus such as the Miasma objects. They, and everybody else, offered Skype connectivity, English words, walks, warm liquid, large windows in their offices out of which to stare, and always, always their support.
The Black Crown Project was my first professional piece, and I’ve admitted to many people that it was a difficult one to finish. For a variety of reasons, including my own weaknesses, it made me undyingly ill, both physically and mentally, and pushed my personal relationships to the brink of something unspeakable. I asked too much of myself, and everybody around me. But everybody around me helped to make something which, despite its flaws, its shudderings and hedgerow transparency, seems to have given a lot of you joy, sadness and an experience which, I now feel comfortable saying, is still completely unique.
Unfortunately, despite the endless charity which was given to me, none of the companies involved are charities themselves. Failbetter Games is a company who are expanding in all the ways which they have worked for and deserve, and maintaining Black Crown, with its ring-fenced code, unique features and separate, demanding bug queue, is not something which they have time or money to do. It is the same with the others. No more money can be spent on something which refuses to produce much in return.
It is no great shame or secret that Black Crown was not a successful project financially. The amount of speculation, trust and liberalism that went into its production unearthed a distinct optimism in me. I have been shamed by everybody’s behaviour and professionalism, and continue to be today. My Great Thanks stands as a headstone to this. But taking all such things into account, it remains a simple fact that Black Crown was an experiment in creativity and commerce, in which I believe I delivered on the former but not the latter. In its current incarnation, Black Crown will not make any of us any more money. It is not a populist piece, and the economics do not stand up. I stand by the decision made, and will defend it.
However, this does not mean that I am not bereft, and upset for those of you who still play the game. I have been constantly touched, in the manner of a stingray in an open pool, by the magnaminity, individual creativity and vociferousness of every fan. There have been songs written, art made, light-lighting slash fiction released. There have been long discussions on the nature of my work which, rather than superciliously detaching myself from, I have engaged with as a fan of my own work. Every single ___clerk___ inside The Black Crown Project no longer has to wonder about designations. All of you may curl your fingers (and no thumbs) in and over the pain; you have reached the ____highest rank____.
Now that I have been nice to everybody who deserves it, some business regarding things to come.
One of the prerequisites of taking Black Crown offline was that the entire archive of assets, from qualities to storylets to artwork, was backed up and maintained in a readable format by Random House. The actual logistics of this are still being decided, but rest assured that everything will still exist, de-articulated. The way to put them back together might rely entirely on what winters inside my own skull, but have some faith. I once drove to Devon with a concussion. It will be safe.
As to what happens with the Project afterwards, and in the coming whatevers, this remains to be seen. As many of you have been promised by email, I was not finished with the work by half; there was more artwork to come, more of the Eremite’s ephemera, hundreds of tweaks, clarifications and new storylines, as well as the digitised diaries of one Mr. Oscar Parlay, master of the Suite. I have not forgotten about these promises, but I cannot tell you how they will be realised.
Random House is still very interested in the IP, to use the lingo and never again, as am I. More importantly, I am interested in seeing the work in its current iteration, with my poetry and prose and song and artwork and weaknesses and failings, released anew so that people can continue to play it if they so wish. I have been toying with the idea of converting the entire project into a Twine game, a free, open-source software with which I have been gaining literacy through my work with the charity Shelter UK. Many of the original features of The Black Crown Project, if not all of them, can be replicated within the Twine code. Porpentine has helped me with this, inadvertently. However, this conversion would be a fairly daunting undertaking, one which I cannot personally afford at the moment without some form of reimbursement. There are other options, perhaps, but before anything is decided pens need to be twirled, windows need to be looked out of, lunches need to be eaten, and talks need to be had.
For the moment, I am working on several new projects, only one of which has been announced. Until Feburary I am the British Library’s Interactive-Fiction-Writer-In-Residence, which is extremely unwieldy but also exciting, like a bastard sword tanged with Aurora Borealis. I will be attached to the Lines in the Ice exhibition, which details the Victorian quests to snap through the Northwest Passage over Canada, and the resultant heroism, pathetic nonsense, cannibalism, love and hideousness that this all entailed. I’ll be creating original artworks inspired by my reading and research at the library, and what I have planned has a lot, perhaps too much, in common with The Black Crown Project. However, it might interest some of those that are reading this send-off. I will be physically at the Library for many drop-in sessions and events, and so do follow my progress on the official research blog.
Well, that’s it, really. I’m devastated but determined that the two years of work, entirely unequatable, is not lost entirely. You now have about 25 days to play as much of the game as you might like, and save any artwork, screenshots or copied text to your hard drive before the earth goes over it, and it sinks into a form which is not retrievable. I will potter about it, for as long as I can, and answer any further questions you have via email, but please do keep them brief. I’ve gravetending to be doing.
I used to sign off my Black Crown blog posts, and forum posts, with a twattish, capitalised Yorkshire shepherding pidgin which was the voice of the Hogherd, my semi-divine administrator character within the game. I always felt that I was insulting somebody, inadvertently, when I did it, and I’m not really sure if it was as haunting as it was meant to sound.
HYAAAA HYAAAAAAAAAAAAA HYYAAAA COOM BY COOOM BY