The exquisite corpse of a spaceship

On embracing problems as solutions

I have this fascination about drawing spaceships, giant robots and fantasy maps since I was little, despite my complete lack of artistic skills. I don’t know, there’s something that triggers my sense of wonder and creative juices when I see those somewhat random or unrealistic shapes forming a creation that is somehow “out of this world”.

When I first saw the announcement for this year’s One-Page RPG Jam, I was very much in this mood. I wanted an experience of a game in which coming up with a shape was the focus. Later on, when the optional theme was revealed—Transport—I knew what I had to do: spaceships.

The problems you want

My first explorations were not satisfying, however. I thought of a crafting game, or perhaps a journaling game, in which you would recount the tales of your old spaceship while you absent-mindedly sketched it on a piece of paper.

The problem with that idea was two-fold. First, it felt too… feeble? As in, not enough of a game design challenge? This is a weird one, because I’m not known for intentionally complicating games just because I feel the need for complexity. But I like to treat this jam specifically as a challenge—when I have the bandwidth to do so, mind you. Somehow, just a list of prompts and some random drawing generators wasn’t cutting it for me.

There are infinite potential solutions for this issue (a very valid one being ‘doing nothing about it’), but I just couldn’t figure it out. I wanted to push myself a little more. I’ve heard somewhere (I paraphrase) that playing games is solving problems that you intentionally set for yourself, and I believe that that extends to making games as well.

The second hiccup was with the resulting drawings themselves. I believe a smarter person would be able to figure out a random spaceship sketch generator that could deliver cohesive outcomes, but oh boy was that not my case.

Very soon into the brainstorming phase, I realized that the drawings I was getting were wacky, to put it mildly. It turns out that removing intent from the process of sketching results in very weird shapes being made, who would have thought?

However, instead of trying to fix it, I decided to lean hard into it.

Sketchy sketches

What if drawing weird spaceships was the fun part? How can I make this process enjoyable, and more importantly, make it into a game?

As I was investigating this concept, I was reminded of Exquisite Corpse, my favorite surrealist game that I learned about some 20 years ago and played with my friends extensively. Essentially, you are continuing a drawing started by someone else, but you can only see a tiny strip of its outer edge. You keep doing that for a few times, and then you reveal the final result. It is a delight.

(I’ve just remembered of Eat Poop You Cat, another similar game I played with friends decades ago that still brings me tears of laughter just by looking at the resulting pieces. Check it out).

I wanted to incorporate this element of being surprised by each other's drawings while trying to create a cohesive whole. I folded the sheet of paper in different ways, considered drawing in random order, and tried my hand at a number of unfruitful attempts. And then it finally clicked.

Your definitely-not-stolen spaceship

What if you are trying to draw the spaceship to describe it to someone so that you can get it back? Like, you'd have to convince someone that the ship is yours. But how? Do they have a template to compare it to? Oh, perhaps... you and a friend both draw the ship and compare the drawings, as if you were being interrogated and had to make sure your versions matched.

I workshopped this idea a bit more and came up with the current version. Here's the pitch:

You're a duo of space scoundrels that just pulled off a much-needed job—or at least, you thought you did. You and your partner-in-crime have managed to “acquire” a shabby spaceship, but before you could even take it for a proper joyride through the cosmos, it got impounded! Now, your beloved (and definitely-not-stolen) vessel is locked away in a government impound lot, guarded by a no-nonsense agent who’s not easily fooled.

Your mission? Convince this overly diligent agent that the ship is rightfully yours. How? By weaving a tale so outrageous and detailed that they can’t help but believe you. You’ll describe every detail of your spaceship—where you got the parts, the mishaps along the way, and even the peculiar dents and scratches—while you both sketch it out. But here’s the catch: you’ll be each drawing half of the ship without seeing the other’s work. If your drawings align perfectly when you’re done, the agent will have no choice but to release your ship. If not… well, you’d better start thinking of another plan. Good luck!

The problem is the solution

That pitch did it for me. From then on, it was a smooth design process, and the game was basically done in a day. I even managed to add single-line instructions for solo or 3-player variants.

Looking back, I wanted to intentionally complicate my life by pouring more into the design, while providing a satisfying experience of sketching a spaceship. And the answer to that was using the second problem (weird drawings) as a solution to the first one (more meat).

I ended up with a game I am quite pleased with, and one I think will offer a good laugh and some great stories, especially when you reveal your wacky sketches and put them together. Just some light-hearted fun with friends and family, and there’s nothing more I could ask of it.

This project could have gone in many different directions, but I am enjoying the fact that I embraced a limitation as a feature, and designed the game around it.

The obstacle really is the path sometimes, huh.

If you want to check it out, Hunk o’ Junk is available here, and it is on sale until the end of the jam.