I’m calling it Act 1. There are about 10 scenes to keep it simple, and I’m following the Save the Cat beat sheet. I made a table I call the “Main Outline Table” for lack of a better name.

The table includes the Beat, Scene #, Scene/Passage Description (the location | purpose), character the reader/player interacts with, three decisions, and a variable to keep track of the different powers, inventory, etc.

In the table I outlined the critical path, which lists the main 10 scenes, each with a very specific purpose. And I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to put the reader/player’s critical decision in the Main Outline Table. This would be the decision in each scene they would make to make it straight through to the end of the story.

Then there are up to two other choices that allow for more branching, blah blah.

In this process I’ve discovered that writing choice is stressful. Well, a lot more stressful than I expected.

I don’t mean that in a bad way exactly. I mean that every time I make a decision branch for the story, I have to sit with the weight of everything that might come after it.

What would this character say?

How would they react?

Ugh - What if the reader would have assumed a logical choice should have been there, but I didn’t offer it?

And that’s made me think about choice in a bigger way too. I wrote about it before, but more from a “you think you can do better than me, then YOU do it” POV.

But now we’re dealing with…stress.

Having options doesn’t always feel like freedom. (Hey I’m grown, and I get to make my own decisions.)

Sometimes having to make decisions feels like pressure.

What’s for dinner?

Should I choose between a cheap vs a non-stop flight?

I’m just going a couple of block away, can I wait to fill up my tank?

Sometimes having this “freedom” feels like responsibility and the fear of getting it wrong adds to the stress.

None of those decisions or choices are huge on their own, but they still ask something of us. They still take energy. And they leave room for a lot of second-guessing.

And in my case I start thinking about all the possible outcomes, making even ordinary decisions can feel much bigger than they are (thanks Risk Management training way back in 1997-ish).

I want the reader/player to feel involved in the story and perhaps a little ownership? There needs to be an opportunity for them to feel the tension of a decision and the little rush of not knowing exactly what comes next.

I want them to have fun, and I also want them to feel a little scared…not overwhelmed, not burdened, and definitely not stressed out.

I watched a movie called The Tomorrow War. NO movie has ever had me as stressed out as that movie did the first time I watched it. I don’t know what it was about the movie, if it was the aliens themselves or the mission, or the people, I was not happy watching that movie (I was OK the second time I watched it, I think).

I think there’s a fine line there. What’s the difference between suspense and stress.

Maybe that’s the part I’m still figuring out because at my age, I’m empathetic about folks’ heart health and cortisol levels which don’t do well under stress. And my blood pressure was sky high watching The Tomorrow War (and I was just passively watching, not trying to make any decisions about anything).

So… I guess as I keep working on the decision points for Act I and beyond, I’m trying to find that line between suspense and stress: where there is still entertainment and opportunities to be scared, practice a few rituals and fight some bad guys…but not feel like the reader/player is burdened with homework!

For example, I am 100% sure the Candy Crush people wanted people to feel “addicted” to playing. So, the rules are simple: match the delicious candies to level up. The dynamics include the little sweet sounds and lickable visuals (sugar crush!) that act as rewards…But the aesthetic, the game play itself, is just hard enough to make you feel like you’re a master crusher that can get to the next level using unique candy matching skillz, so you stay hooked and in the zone (see My Weekend -Long Candy Crush Addiction for a real-life story).

Side note: I got bored of the game after a few days... then I got more annoyed at the company when they tried to trademark the word “candy” to keep other gamemakers from creating candy-based games.

I learned about MDA while doing some research on what makes someone continue playing a video game, which was a result of a new tangent I went on due to scrolling YouTube for “inspiration.”

When you write a novel, you want your reader to not want to put your story down. It’s the same with video games, you want players to continue to play, explore, fight, etc. They have to feel something, about the game and about themselves to keep on going.

That’s when I realized I haven’t actually figured out what I want my reader/player to feel. I haven’t defined my “vision” for Bayou Hollow as an interactive fiction. I know I want it to feel mysterious and scary.

But aesthetics require decisions that I need to make about how the reader/player will feel in the world of Bayou Hollow.

Here’s what I mean:

One of the central themes in Bayou Hollow is voodoo and other supernatural powers as the key to survival. My reader/player has access to it in a number of ways like learning new rituals, protection spells, and some powers.

If I want my reader/player to feel dread (not just being scared, but that particular creeping dread where you know something is going wrong and you can’t stop it) then the mechanics will have to support that. Which means I have to answer questions like:

Do their powers go away?

Can they be recovered?

Do rituals work more than once?

If rituals work every time, my reader/player feels like they have control. And if they feel like they have control, they probably won’t feel too much dread because they know they can always beat the obstacle.

But if rituals are unreliable — if they work, but maybe not the same way twice, or they cost something different each time, now my reader/player might feel uncertain an having to trust something that isn’t entirely trustworthy… perhaps this is the dread I’m trying to convey?

I’m not sure if I want the vision to be dread, but I DO know that if I was sent an inheritance letter, then all of this new responsibility fell upon me, I’d feel a ton of dread (why meeee?).

That’s the feeling I’m after (I think). That’s the aesthetic.

Actually, I’m not sure dread is the thing I want. And that’s ok for now. As long as I know I will need to address the true feeling so I can be sure to build it into the story.

I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m still working out the logic of what powers do and do not persist, what can be recovered and at what cost, what the rules of Bayou Hollow actually are. But I know what question to ask now for every decision I give the reader/player: does this choice create the feeling I want, or does it accidentally create a different one?

I need to add this to my 1-page game design document fo’ shizzle.

I see two paths they can take:

• The critical path

• The fun and games path

Ahhh, the ol’ critical path, from my project management days. It’s the most direct path to the end of a project. It takes into account any dependencies (so you can’t go skipping “critical” tasks) to take you from start to finish of your project. This is called planning using the critical path method.

I can see all the pert charts now. Microsoft Project, if it still exists, will extract the critical path for you so that you can report on the earliest date you could have your project done. That’s your proof to your bosses (aka stakeholders) that you cannot get it done any faster!

I think there is a critical path the reader/player must take to reach the end of the story. Regardless of where they, in their own autonomy, want to take the story, there are certain experiences they must have to reach the end.

But that would be boring with out the fun and games path.

That’s where things get exciting. And its where they make the story their own.

The fun and games concept comes from the Save the Cat beat sheet. I liked the name of it and it makes it easier for me to visualize all the different decisions the reader/player will make that may not land on the critical path, but bring life to the IF. And according to Blake Snyder that’s 20-50% of the story.

Successfully implementing branching storylines requires careful planning, creativity, and some type of strategy. I was able to find some tips from meegle.com who creates a visualized project workflow app. I thought it might be good for helping me map out the branches in Bayou Hollow. But it was way too high of a learning curve. I’ll stick with my little mind maps for now.

Here’s what they suggest:

• Map your decision before you write it. Start with a flowchart or diagram of your branches you start writing. Without it you lose track of where choices lead and which paths are dead ends. Break the story into manageable segments and make sure each branch is different, and meaningful.

• But don’t over-branch! Too many choices will overwhelm the reader/player and make the story too confusing instead of engaging. Reserve major branch points for critical or pivotal moments in the story. Use smaller, yet meaningful choices (aka fun and games) to add texture and character depth. Give enough context to help them make informed decisions.

• Make the consequences real. Choices the reader/player makes need to actually change something (e.g., relationships, inventory, voodoo power, what’s happens later, etc.). If every path leads to the same outcome, reader/players may feel they are losing out on their autonomy in the story.

• Use the right tools. I think tools like Twine and Ink earn their place here. They are built for managing these types of stories. Meegle suggested that Unity or Unreal Engine offer tools for visualizing narrative branches 🤷🏾‍♀️ There is another tool I’ve used for eLearning scenario development… but I can’t remember the name! (now I’m on the hunt for that tool).*

These tips are pretty straightforward. However, I’m going to look a little deeper into specific structures for interactive stories. I found a good list in a highly-referenced article. There’s the:

• Branch and Bottleneck structure which I’ve used in my eLearning scenarios. They take you down a path, but you have the option to eventaully “recover” and get back on the right path. The scenarios aren’t even scenarios if you don’t branch in this way.

• Time Cave structure where every choice is basically equal. There is no “coming back together” – there is no critical path, and you get different endings. I think for this you have to decide if you want the reader/player to just explore all over the place, but then would rules even matter?

• Quest structure where the reader/player can go off on a number of adventures, perhaps in different places. But then they can kind of recover because there are main decision points they need to make to move forward to an ending. This reminds me of all the side-quests in video games where you just go and do something for a while, but then come back to the main story.

There are more of these structures. But at this point I’m starting to confuse myself. I think what I need to do is take a look at the options, think about my 5 endings, figure out the critical path for each ending. And then draw that on a piece of paper – then see which structure it looks like.

Maybe it doesn’t look like any of them 😆

* I found the app I used! And just for fun, I logged in and here’s a screenshot of one of my old projects. It was about an alien looking for a cure for a sick child on his planet. The app is called Arcweave.

I hope you’re enjoying my adventure into creating this horror adventure interactive fiction. I just love creative projects like this.

A game’s visuals cue you (the player) in on what’s important to look at, what can be interacted with, what has changed, and where to focus your attention. If you’ve played any type of video game you’d *probably* know if you can pick up a rock, or just walk on by it. You’d *probably* be able to tell a good guy from a bad guy. You’d *probably* get a hint if you’re about to lose a life.

Visuals are used to communicate to you what’s going on during your gameplay. That part is obvious, as I said, if you spent time playing almost any type of video game.

But in an interactive fiction where the main experience is built around reading, deciding, and remembering things… what happens with the visuals?

As I’m building out my systems like voodoo, economy, and reputation (see my one page design doc), I feel like I’m adding even more information the player has to interpret or remember and use to make choices in the game. That’s a lot of information to keep track of in the human brain.

This brings me back to my old Ed Psych days… and cognitive load… and working memory… and how we don’t want to overload the brain because it starts to cause errors and interferes with what we’re trying to teach.

Same in my IF where, as part of the story, I’m teaching the reader-player about Bayou Hollow and its characters and all the different “systems” that create this groovy experience. In fact, as I look at my notes, there are FIVE different endings. I have the benefit of writing the story and my notes which helps me keep everything organized, more or less, in my brain. But the reader-player won’t have that.

Unless I build it into the IF experience somehow.

Cognitive load in interactive fiction

Cognitive load = the mental effort required to understand and act on information. We want to prevent the reader-player from wasting mental energy on things like:

• Being confused about what’s going on

• What the goal is of the game in the first place

• Making up their own rules (because they are clear)

• MATH (this is my own, personal thing, I don’t want to do math in a game)

• Confusing or non-existing feedback

• Figuring out what they can or cannot do

We want them to be able to understand the goals, and the rules to reach the goals of the IF.

I looked up some research on cognitive load and games to see what experts have to say. I found an article by Celia Hodent and she said creating a fun and engaging game is all about:

…taking into account the limitations of the human brain in perception, attention, and memory. It also considers the emotional response and motivation felt by the players.

Ok, that’s three things I need to pay attention to as I make my own decisions: perception, attention and memory. That means I’m not just asking “Is the voodoo system I’m adding in here interesting?” but I’m also asking “Can the reader-player understand it quickly enough to make meaningful decisions?”

SO… my next big question is how do I do that? And I’m thinking (and I could be wrong) the use of visuals and pictures in the game can help.

Where do the pretty visuals come in?

When I create style guides for my eLearning courses, I always add in a line to not use any “gratuitous imagery” and all that means is if it goes into the course it must mean something.

So I know that game visuals aren’t just to make the game pretty. They help the player read and understand (a good ole R&U for my SOP peeps) the game. So things like:

• Helping distinguish one object from another so players know what is safe, dangerous, useful, or decorative. If a treasure looks like a trap, the player may avoid it.

• Making clear what is interactive, such as doors, books, people you can speak to.

• Directing their attention to important objects with things like motion, flashes, glow, and animation.

• Giving feedback on things like their health, power, ammo or money

So visuals reduce the amount of guessing the player has to do, meaning it reduces the cognitive load these guys have to carry. They already have to remember enough. I’m not good at many types of games because of my own failing memory, so I can empathize.

My design test (what I think I need to do…)

For each visual, graphic, or element, I can ask myself:

• Can the player tell what this means at a glance?

• Does it support a decision the reader-player cares about?

• Does it reduce a reader-player’s memory burden instead of increasing it?

• Does it clearly communicate a change in something, like a status?

• Is it helping the reader-player, or just adding more “stuff” to the story?

If a particular visual/graphic/element does not pass one of those tests, it may still look good, but it is probably not doing enough work…and I might have to kill my darlings!

From my instructional design POV, I’d think of visuals as a scaffold for understanding the game. Examples:

• A reputation icon might show whether a character trusts the reader-player.

• A subtle color shift might indicate danger or social tension (like a reddening around the edges of the page).

• A dashboard icon that glows when something has changed to remind the reader-player to check inventory often.

I can’t believe I’m pulling out all my old ed psych and instructional design tools for a horror story!

What I’m realizing is that visuals in this IF can’t be just about style and making it look cute (or in this case scary as possible). In an IF, where the reader-player is already doing a lot of mental work following the storyline and trying to remember all the characters I have lined up for them, and just trying to make the best decisions they can – thinking through visual design can be the difference between it being an engaging (fun?) way to spend time and being totally confused (and despising me for making them go through the experience.

I made it from visuals > cognitive load > visuals in IF … thank you for this journey around the corner with me as I brain dump, with myself.

If you opened my Bayou Hollow project you’d see a swamp of disconnected thoughts (which, ironically, fits Bayou Hollow a little too well). I am not even sure you’d be able to open the project because it lives in so many different places.

I think this is why it’s so difficult for me to focus on it because I’m doing too many “things” around it.

So this week, in an effort to summarize what my interactive fiction/story is all about, I started creating a one-page game design document.

Typically a game design document is a comprehensive and well-thought out (although it can be very fluid) project plan of sorts. But as this is my life’s project I don’t really need something written because it’s all pretty fluid…and I didn’t want anything that was overwhelming and I’d never read again.

So I decided to create more of a one page summary. I’m starting with visual map (mind map) to answer a simple question:

What the heck am I making?

I wanted something I could:

• Look at in seconds

• Update easily

• Actually use while writing

At the center: Bayou Hollow (Interactive Fiction Game)

From there, everything branches out into four key pillars I identified:

The 4 Pillars of My IF

To keep things simple, I organized everything into four core pillars:

1. Plot

The entire story unfolds over five days. So I’m breaking the plot into 5 days in my visual map. This immediately is giving me some sort of boundaries because now I’m not writing “a story.” I’m writing Day 1 of a story. And each day has its own combo of details from the other three pillars.

2. Characters

Next, I started mapping out the key people in the story (e.g. The Janitor, Aunt Celeste, The Witch, etc.) Each of these will eventually branch into their motivations, secrets, and interactions with the reader/player.

But for now, I just needed to see them all in one place, kind of laid out as I go through all my notes and add them to the map.

3. Systems (Game Mechanics)

This is where the “game” part starts to become “game-like” - I think.

Right now, I have:

• A Voodoo System

• An Inventory System

• Some type of Economy System

• Some type of Reputation System

• Possibly one more that I’m still working out

Instead of overthinking it, I’m treating each system as its own branch in my map. Later, I’ll expand each one with things like rules, choices and consequences.

But for now, it’s enough to say that these systems are the ways the player interacts with the world.

I’m building a little world! 🌎

4. Locations

Finally, I mapped Bayou Hollow itself, including locations like the Swamp, the High School, and the Jazz Club.

Each location will eventually hold scenes, events, characters tied to that location and how the location relates to the missions.

In general, for now I’m using my one page game design document to:

• Capture the pieces of the story as the come to me

• See the overall structure of how the interactivities may work

• Give myself something to build on so I don’t get lost in the details

BTW I created the mind map using Whimsical. I feel like it’s more for the techy crowd so I’ll be looking for a more right-brained, story-driven mind-mapper. I know they are out there.

See what I just did? I made ANOTHER task for myself that’s not writing 😆 It’s to go look for more tools. Funny how I caught myself in the moment.

If you’re following along as I create Bayou Hollow, I’d love to know: do you prefer seeing the story itself, or the behind-the-scenes process like this?

In my coaching program I teach how to create your own framework (based on your profession work experience or whatever knowledge you have). So, I’m really into frameworks and what goes into them.

Now, I’m not sure Fourteen Forms of Fun is a true “framework” but he’s the origin story: In 2001, Pierre-Alexandre Garneau, a recent computer science graduate, posted his thoughts on the “nature of fun” on the game enthusiast’s website, Gamasutra (now gamedeveloper.com). The goal was to figure out what makes a video game entertaining…or fun… to help inform the creation of better games.

I’ll share them shortly, but I wanted to note that while his post presented his ideas of fun, I didn’t find where he did any empirical research - so I believe this was a framework from his observation and his own experience at that time (love) ❤️ However, the concept caught on and game developers 100% use it as a framework for their designs.

Ok, so here are the 14 forms of fun (in alphabetical order):

• Advancement and Completion ~ "Going forward in, and eventually finishing, an activity."

• Application of a Skill ~ "Using one's physical abilities in a difficult setting."

• Beauty ~ "That which pleases the senses."

• Comedy ~ "Things that make one want to laugh."

• Competition ~ "An activity where the goal is to show one's superiority."

• Creation ~ "To make exist that which didn't."

• Discovery ~ "Finding something that wasn't known before."

• Immersion ~ "Going into an environment different from one's usual environment by physical means or by use of one's imagination."

• Intellectual Problem Solving ~ "Finding solutions to problematic situations that require thought."

• Love ~ "Strong affection toward somebody."

• Physical Activity ~ "Activities requiring intense physical movements."

• Power ~ "Capacity of having a strong effect, of acting with strength."

• Social Interaction ~ "Doing things with other human beings."

• Thrill of Danger ~ "Exhilaration coming from a dangerous activity."

Are you having fun now? Probably not. Because what I’m doing here, reading my recap of what I just learned about fun is not “fun” according to this list. It may be fun to ME, because I’m writing (creating) this post.

I think the guidance of FFF is that as a game developer who wants to create a great, entertaining or “fun” game, you should strive to include a number of these elements. Not just one, not all of them. But include a good balance.

For example, you may create a gorgeous, highly visually polished game centered around a tender rescue or reunion with the player’s long, lost princess love. The visual style is a big part of the appeal and the emotional stakes keep the player invested in the game. The game world itself feels designed to be admired, while the tension of moving through a treacherous landscape to save a lover gives the beauty more weight and contrast. This combines the beauty, love, and thrill of danger formats into a classic game (back in the early 90s Mario Brothers was so addictive because of this!)

Or alternatively, what about a game that is a clever, playful experience where the player keeps uncovering hidden systems, solving layered challenges, and enjoying witty surprises along the way. There’s a sense of curiosity pulling the fun experience forward, while the humor keeps it light and the puzzles make it satisfying to keep going. This combines discovery, intellectual problem solving, and comedy. Candy Crush comes to mind, even the graphics were beautiful and delicious as I think about it.

I’m now deciding what forms of fun do I want in my own game. It’s a southern gothic horror style interactive fiction type of game...🤔

I’m thinking for this one I might target discovery, maybe immersion, and advancement and completion.

I don’t think this will be a visually stimulating game. I want it to feel scary - an environment you’re trying to escape. And as of April 2026, I’m considering going retro with a pixel graphic style. So I think beauty is out.

Possibly the thrill of danger as you learn to cast spells and fight with ancient demons… Who knows I may discover some other fun along the way!

But this weekend I took a peek into my Scrivener file and got re-excited about my project. One of the reasons I went into it is because I saw a video about Whispers from the Star.

Let’s step back to an old Kickstarter project that I supported back in 2013, called Harbinger Down. The goal was to go back to the time when creatures and visual FX weren’t made digitally - meaning no digitally animated creatures in the film.

The film makers wanted to bring back the “art” of miniatures, puppetry and stop motion, instead of digital animated effects. They wanted to keep a classic feel to an industry that was going digital.

Pause.

I realize I’m moving away from the point of this post and I’ve taken two tangents already 😆. Let me get back on track (the forever to do list) by saying I got re-excited about my story when I saw Whispers from the Star - which is basically an AI-driven interactive fiction. It made me want to look back at the classic written stories, similar to the ways the Harbinger Down folks wanted to do classic effects.

Back to what this has to do with my IF. As I started researching what folks are doing with AI-driven interactive fiction, I ran across THIS beauty - a trailer for the House of Hell interactive fiction by Tin Man Games.

It’s a trailer. For the game.

So, I’ve added a trailer to my to-do list in Scrivener - a trailer for Bayou Hollow. There it is, you can see it right in my Scrivener binder:

So in addition to working on 22 characters interacting over a 5 day period (with a goal to save the world), I’m now adding a trailer to my to-do list. Because how else would I promote the IF other than talk about it here on my Substack?

What else is on my to do list?

1. The trailer.

2. Design the economy system. I’ve had to look back through my notes for what this item is about. I wrote “Money can be earned through various activities and spent on information, items, access to restricted areas, and services.” OK.

3. Work on the voodoo aspects of the game. The powers, rituals, spells, etc.

4. Develop the player stats tracking.

5. More stuff…

6. More stuff…

7. More stuff…

8. Learn .ink / Inky.

9. Learn Godot (again).

10. Write?

There’s just a lot of to do and not so much writing it seems. But again, this is why I love Scrivener to help me keep everything organized.

This is the joy of a life’s project. I long to be one of those people that say “I’ve been working on this for 20 years.”

And I’m already almost 3 years in. It will be 3 years in July, so I only have 17 years left to get this story done💃🏽

There was this one time though when I tried to write a non-fiction book in Scrivener. Having so many options made me want to use all the options.

That made the process hectic, confusing, chaotic and unproductive.

So I ended up back in Word.

With that said, the thing that’s cool about Scrivener for interactive fiction are the exact things that make it chaotic for non-fiction. You can create in bits and pieces. Link heres and theres. Move around thises(?) and thats.

Perfect for non-linear thinking and capturing mountains of information that you need to bring your interactive story to life💥

Scrivener

I remember Twine from my instructional design days - some of the more experimental, Academic eLearning designers were using it. I never had an opportunity to build anything with it in my corporate work (I was a systems instructional designer and worked on simulations more so than storytelling and scenarios).

I downloaded it and researched a little about their story “formats” (which let you add features to your story). Basically, Twine lets you create interactive stories and branching stories and then publish them as HTML (i.e., you can upload them to a website…or share them on a CD-ROM 😆 Sorry, this was a flash back to sharing files on CDs back in the day. I’m over 50, remember?).

I was going to build Bayou Hollow in Twine.

I’d made the decision, opened the program, started figuring out how the branching and everything works.

I found a cool story that I liked called A Rose by Another Name, which gave me a good feel of what I could do as far as my story and making it interactive.

Then I discovered Inkle…

I ignored it at first because it didn’t look as feature complex as the Twine app - it looked really plain, maybe too easy. (I guess I wanted a challenge 🤷🏾‍♀️).

But something made me go back and check it again a little while ago and that’s when I saw their Expelled: An Overboard Game.

They call it a “dynamic narrative” – a next-gen visual novel. And the presentation is gorgeous. Just like I’m planning, the player gets into a situation then has choices to make (here they are shown on the bottom).

I watched their demo video multiple times on YouTube.

And now I’m second-guessing my Twine decision.

But it’s not really a decision because I haven’t written anything yet!

This is how I get side-tracked (procrastinate) and I admit that.

Here’s What I Should be Doing…

What I should be doing is focusing on taking all my notes and putting them into Scrivener.

I love, love, love Scrivener. And it gives me a big boost of dopamine every time I use it.

It has way too many features when you use it for “regular” writing, but it is going to be PERFECT for organizing, planning and testing Bayou Hollow.

So that’s where I am today. Started with Twine, discovered Ink, now leaning toward Ink but I really should be focused on getting the story down into Scrivener and learning how to make engaging decisions.

The story is the thing that matters. The tool is just the tool.

But the tool does shape how you tell the story, doesn’t it? Maybe it does in IF.

Learning to build interactive fiction in my 50s means learning to recognize my own procrastination patterns. What tools are you using for your creative projects? And more importantly – are they helping you create, or helping you avoid creating?

I know my story. I can see my characters, hear their voices, feel the dread that builds as the past refuses to stay buried in Bayou Hollow

But I don’t know how to begin writing it as interactive fiction.

I could start with the ending…

But wait - there might be multiple endings.

Or maybe there’s no ending at all - just different paths through the story.

Do I write the main path first?

But that assumes there IS a main path, and isn’t the whole point of IF that the reader’s choices matter?

UGH!

I’m a pantser when it comes to writing, but in my head I have somewhat of an idea for a beginning, middle, end. I know my characters want something, face obstacles, and they either get it or don’t get it when the story wraps up.

But interactive fiction seems to break all those rules.

There’s no single protagonist I’m guiding through choices - the reader IS the protagonist, making their own choices.

So where do I even start?

If there are three possible conclusions to Bayou Hollow, do I need to know all three before I write the first scene?

Do I outline three separate story arcs?

And if I do that, am I just writing three different linear stories that happen to share an opening?

That can’t be right. That’s not what interactive fiction feels like when you experience it.

When I think about IF stories they don’t feel like “pick one of three stories.” They feel like one story that responds to you, that remembers what you did, that makes you live with your choices even when you wish you could take them back.

Oh - and then there’s pacing.

When I write I control the rhythm. I know exactly when to slow down and let a moment breathe, when to speed up and create something frantic. I decide when the reader learns something important.

But in IF, the reader controls the pace (right?). They might linger in the opening scene, exploring every detail of the swamp before moving forward (if I choose to provide those as choices).

And if I’m thinking of this as a digital IF, I might want to allow them to circle back, revisit locations, talk to the same character multiple times.

So, I’ve been a little confused about this for a few days now as I’m working on the 5-day structure of Bayou Hollow. And here’s what it’s come down to: I need to stop trying to figure out the “right” way to structure this story before I’ve even written a scene. I don’t want to be an over-planner, I was just feeling like I needed to be with IF.

Instead, I’m going to start with what I know - story beats.

For Bayou Hollow, I’m using the Save the Cat beats as my framework, which is what I use for my screenplays.

The beats give me structure to start with.

What I don’t know yet is how those beats branch. How reader choices reshape the path through them. Whether some beats get skipped entirely depending on earlier decisions, or whether every path hits the same major moments but experiences them differently.

Maybe that’s the answer to “where do I start?” I start with what I can see clearly - the beats, the scenes, the moments - and trust that the branches will make themselves known as I get further into writing.

I see one of those detective / conspiracy boards in my future!

We watch a parent handle their kid’s meltdown in the grocery store and with a raised eyebrow we mumble, “If he were my kid, that would’ve never happened.”

Or recently the peanut butter toast lady was a little judgy about how people used their food stamps.

Or a well-meaning relative goes through our shopping bags and tells us WE are spending too much of OUR money on things WE don’t need. And that WE should save OUR money. (Note: Yes, WE is me in this example).

A character in a movie reaches for the doorknob to the dark basement and we’re practically yelling at the screen - “Don’t go in there! Dummy!”

It’s not that we’re mean-spirited people. We just can’t help but imagine ourselves in those situations. And from our comfortable position, the right choice seems obvious.

Well, Interactive Fiction (IF) says: “Okay, you think you know better? Here - YOU make the call.”

Suddenly, you’re not watching anymore. You’re doing. That “obvious” choice is not so obvious when you need to make a decision to move to the next page or screen of a story.

You become the parent deciding how to handle the tantrum. The person weighing how to use their food stamps each month. The character standing at that creaky basement door, deciding whether to open it.

The distance collapses. You’re not judging from the couch anymore - you’re all up IN it.

I’m creating Bayou Hallow, a southern gothic horror IF story, because we really don’t know what we’d do in supernatural situations. We’ve never faced them.

We think our logic would save us, that we’d make the “smart” choice.

But does logic even work in a world where the rules of reality don’t apply?

You can judge the character for investigating the strange noise. But when YOU’RE the one who has to decide whether to trust the warning from the local who speaks in riddles, or follow your rational mind that says it’s all superstition...suddenly that choice carries weight.

Sometimes you’re vindicated - yes, you DID know better. Sometimes you’re humbled - oh, THAT’S why they made that choice. But either way, you feel the weight of the decision being yours. You understand, maybe for the first time, that the person making the choice sees things you couldn’t see from the outside.

And that’s what I think IF can teach us about ourselves: that the gap between who we think we are and who we actually are under pressure is bigger than we’d like to admit. That empathy isn’t just understanding someone’s situation intellectually - it’s feeling the weight of their choices in your own hands.

And maybe we should be a little more generous when we’re tempted to be a little judgy towards others.

When the rules themselves are uncertain your logic might be the very thing that dooms you.

Think in terms of a southern gothic horror mystique type of feel…

Bayou Hollow

An unexpected letter arrives: an inheritance of Magnolia Plantation from a great-grandmother never known to exist.

Arriving in the small Louisiana town of Bayou Hollow, the oppressive humidity settles like a shroud, Spanish moss hangs heavy from ancient oaks, and an unsettling feeling of being watched permeates the air.

What begins as a simple inheritance [side note: inheritances, in general are NOT simple! But as I write this, I realize their “simplicity” is irrelevant to this story, but also see why this inheritance is so complex.] quickly unravels into something far more sinister.

Aunt Celeste, a woman never before met, greets the newcomer [i.e., the reader] with cryptic warnings.

Over the course of five days, the reader must navigate the delicate balance between two worlds.

By day, the streets of Bayou Hollow beckon the reader to help townspeople, uncover local legends, and slowly earn the trust of a community that guards its secrets closely.

By night, the veil between the two worlds grows thin, and supernatural forces that have shaped this town for generations begin to reveal themselves.

Something is coming. A convergence of “dark forces” that threatens to tear reality apart, with Bayou Hollow as the gateway.

[another side note: “…tear reality apart…” makes it seem way bigger than Bayou Hollow, the stakes are high for this poor reader. This may need to be tweaked.]

Impossible choices loom: The reader must embrace a heritage they’ve never known, or reject the legacy of power flowing through inherited blood.

The choices the reader makes will determine not just one fate, but the fate of everyone in Bayou Hollow. Will the power be mastered? The curse broken? Balance found between the mundane and the mystical? Or will everything be sacrificed to save a town that may never fully offer its trust?

OK - so that’s what I have so far in my notes about this story. What I love about it is the ability to provide a variety of decisions to make for a rich story to unfold for the reader (and ultimately the player).

A few years back, I actually did it. I created “Zombies in Candyland.” It was a 2D platformer where you played as a piece of candy trying to save Candyland from a zombie invasion (they were very cute zombies, though). You’d shoot zombies, jump over obstacles, dodge attacks. It was my attempt to ride the whole Candy Crush / Plants vs Zombies bandwagon.

It was... well, let’s just say it taught me a lot about the kind of game I don’t want to make.

I loved the challenge of building it. But I found myself asking, “Wait, why are there zombies in Candyland? What’s the backstory?”

I wanted a story.

That’s when it hit me. I don’t want to make platformers or action or 3D games (to be clear, it’s not that this would actually happen, I had no clue what I was doing when I made Zombies in Candyland). I want to tell stories where you, the player, get to decide what happens next. Where your choices shape everything. Where you can replay the game and discover completely different paths.

I want to make interactive fiction.

So at 54, I’m learning to build my first real IF game: Bayou Hollow. I’m calling it a Southern gothic story set in a Louisiana swamp, where nothing is quite what it seems and every choice pulls you deeper into the shadows.

Why I’m Creating Bayou Hollow

So my guilty pleasure is that I’m obsessed with films like Candyman, Angel Heart, The Skeleton Key, Beloved, and The Serpent and the Rainbow. These are stories where their oppressive settings are thick with supernatural forces that refuse to let the past stay buried. Give me voodoo, folk magic, old sins, and that sticky Southern Gothic dread!

It’s that creepy atmosphere where the setting itself feels alive and malevolent, where history seeps through the floorboards. That’s what I want to capture in Bayou Hollow. The Spanish moss, the fog rolling off the water, the thick, humid, air and the feeling that something ancient is watching you.

What is Interactive Inkwell?

Here I’m sharing my journey into the world of interactive fiction. I’m learning new software for creating it. I’m studying branching narratives. I’m figuring out how to make characters feel real across multiple story paths.

But I’m not an expert. I’m a learner. And I’m inviting you to learn alongside me. Like a peek inside my developer’s notebook:

• Behind-the-scenes looks at Bayou Hollow’s development. I’ll share my writing process, the choices I’m designing, the mistakes I’m making, and what I’m learning along the way.

• Interactive fiction craft. Tips, techniques, and discoveries about branching narratives, choice design, character development across multiple paths, and the tools that make it all possible (Twine, Ink, and more).

• Experiments and prototypes. I’ll share playable snippets, test out narrative techniques, and maybe even let you vote on story directions. (Let’s play by ear on this promise 🤣)

• The “learning in your 50s” perspective. Starting something new at this age hits different, and there’s something powerful about proving it’s never too late to create what you’ve always dreamed of.

So, even if you’re a seasoned IF creator, a curious writer, a game developer, or just someone who loves a good Choose Your Own Adventure, I welcome you to join me!

This space is for anyone interested in the craft of interactive storytelling, the weird journey of learning new creative tech skills midlife, or just likes the idea of seeing the greatest Southern gothic horror ever created in the history of the world be born (I’m joking 🙃 but a girl can dream, right?).

I’m figuring this out as I go, which means you’ll see the messy middle, the false starts, and the breakthroughs. You’ll get to influence where this goes.

Come build stories with meeeeee!

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Real posts about interactive fiction, branching narratives, and learning new creative skills in your 50s coming very soon. Promise.

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