Twine is also very easy to customize. However, while visual modifications and external modifications can produce lots of interesting results, they aren’t at all necessary to tell compelling stories.
I have no problem with the idea of a “naked” Twine jam– in fact, I’m already participating– but it is making me realize how much I value customization and specialization in Twine projects. I’m fascinated by words changing and behaving uniquely on-screen. I like cycling links, unfurling sentences, etc. Not all of my projects use these kinds of behaviors, but I really like them, both in my work and in others’. I like that Twine allows authors to add this functionality.
Fact is, when you add new behaviors to onscreen text, you can actually say new things. I recently met with another writer who’s interested in new ways of presenting nonlinear narratives, and during that conversation we talked a little bit about how the artistic possibilities of hypertext are unrealized by the tools and platforms people have been using to consume digital writing. When you add cycling text to a page, you can actually communicate in new ways that you could never could before. When you add “unfurling” text, the possibilities for communication expand again. To make an awkward analogy, when it comes to the communication of ideas, these features are less like fonts and more like entirely new words.
Twine is special because it’s accessible, but it’s also special because it can be incredibly complex. You can make Twine behave in extremely specific and unusual ways, which in turn allows you to say very specific and unusual things that can’t be quite said in any other way. If I’d been writing Swan Hill in linear form as a short story, I could have communicated the Chancellor’s inward-looking attitude in a number of different ways, but I couldn’t have possibly communicated it in exactly the way that I ended up doing so. And I have the replace and revise macros to thank for that. That’s the kind of thing that I value about Twine.