Mostly it’s the drabness of real life, where we don’t get to command kingdoms using armies of dragons, win Champions League trophies with our local team, or inhabit the body of an improbably speedy hedgehog. Sometimes I play them because I want to escape from the version of me that gets paralysed by depression, and boy has the black dog been sniffing at my bits recently, because the Atlantic Ocean is separating me from my wife for a few months. For 30 years she has been the light that banishes that darkness, and I am honestly lost without her.
If that sounds pathetic, you haven’t met her. She leaves everybody she meets feeling better. It’s a superpower that warrants a call from the X-Men.
I have now spent weeks struggling to write in an empty-feeling house, so I turned to video games to banish the blues. Unfortunately, it became a descent into hell. The problem is that I wasn’t using proper, well-made video games as antidepressants.
I told myself I was too busy for that. I simply promised my sad brain that if it could write for half an hour, I would treat it to 10 minutes of iPhone gaming. Just a wee taste of fun to get me out of my miserable headspace.
I started with Sled Surfers, where you catapult a character on a sled down an icy course, collecting coins and diamonds that you can use to improve your sled and catapult. When you finally have enough power to get to the finish line you move on to the next level. Level design, sound, graphics and gameplay were all pleasingly fun, but each run costs you a ticket.
When you run out, you have to wait 20 minutes for another one. These are standard freemium impatience tricks born from Mafia Wars and FarmVille on Facebook. Initially the ads I watch are for other games.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
