just remembered a fic on AO3 (or more likely LJ because it had that distinct 00’s experimental vibe) that appeared double-spaced oddly, in that some paragraphs would be spaced normally and others would have double or even triple spaces in between. it was about one half of the otp getting over the other’s death (or coma, can’t remember which), so all the comments were about how poignant the use of visual spacing was as a means to convey all the emotional holes in the character’s life.
and then the author replied like… *giggle* guys it’s NOT double spaced. try selecting the whole text
and we were all like “no WAY”
but we selected the text, and yes!!!
the “holes” in the story? they were actually lines and actions from the dead/coma character’s ghost, rendered invisible to the eye by the simple trick of coloring the text the exact same as the background, revealed by nothing more than a click and a drag of the mouse
a story about the profound loneliness of losing your the partner of your life and having to make do without them, without anything to fill the holes they’d left behind, suddenly became a story about the profound helplessness of seeing someone you love suffer from your absence while you are right there, unable to do anything about it, unable to communicate that you love them enough to suffer unseen and unheard with them, just to keep them company they’ll never know about
it was then that I truly realized how *superior* the digital medium is to plain printed paper, how the medium and the format can add to a story.
I think about that fic about once a year. I wish I could find it again
Shadow of Memory, on the PlayStation 1. That’s the best time travel complex-web-of-timelines story I’ve ever seen, and it could only be done as a video game, because the different timelines were created between save files. Playing multiple games to make all the different choices was the only way to uncover the full story.
The first few games I played of it, I grew to depend on one part where you have to go to the town square at one point, and shake off your would-be assassin by drumming up a crowd to watch a musician. Except it was weird, because firstly, you’re lying when you tell people there will be a musician - he comes out of nowhere. And secondly, at the end of the set, the mysterious musician throws you a plot-relevant object. There’s no explanation for this.
On my third or fourth play through, I made a different earlier choice, found the plot-relevant object earlier, and then became the musician. I had to throw the object to myself across the square. In this playthrough, I was never standing on the other side of the square. I was reaching across game files.
