I may be just a mild-mannered writer in a ruffle-collared blouse, but even I have dreams that in the Zombie Apocalypse, I will be one of the few to survive. I imagine boarding up the windows and, if necessary, taking out the stairs from the first story of my house to the second. Zombies can’t climb rope ladders, don’t you know?
Anyway, this weekend I got the chance to try out my zombie busting skillz for the first time, with a little gem from PopCap called Plants vs. Zombies. Basically, you defend your home from zombies by planting various plants, each of which have abilities such as shooting peas, tossing watermelons, or expelling poisonous gas.
Mark downloaded it first, then after a few hours he let me take a crack at it. He watched me play the first few levels. “Ah,” he mused, “to be young again and playing Plants vs. Zombies for the first time.”
I totally get it, babe. Because, man, these plants! These zombies! They are totally addictive, and it’s only now, after a full two days of immersion, that I am starting to break away.
First of all: cute! The art in the game is really charming; even the zombies manage to look adorable. I mean, look at that guy. With a cone on his head! Silly zombie.
Second of all: grindable! The game has a wealth of things to buy, complete, collect, and otherwise muck about with. It’s chicken soup for the obsessive compulsive soul.
It’s been a long time since I enjoyed a game this much, and to be honest it doesn’t come at the best time. I am, for the first time in a long time, in flow with my writing. Deep flow. Like, rip tide. I’m talking push-on-through-to-the-end-of-the-book-and-get-it-in-the-mail flow. And if my flow has one nemesis in all the world, it’s — no, not zombies –gaming.
I hope I won’t be accused of melodrama if I say that, through gaming, I have come to understand how alcoholics feel about alcohol. It’s not just a compulsion, you understand. It’s love. It’s the beautiful, rich color of a really good scotch. It’s the giddy feeling you get when you toast a zombie with your Cob Cannon just as he steps onto your porch.
For better or worse, but I think forever — I love to game. Love it enough to ignore the other things I love, like reading and socializing and writing my book. And so to have some zombie come and woo my inner gamer right now, just when I’ve gotten into flow — well, it frightens me. Which is why the mouse I need to play this game is at home, and I am currently at Borders.
Blogging about Plants vs. Zombies.