A call for visual novel creators—present or future.
Art is not a handicraft. It is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.
—Leo Tolstoy
The above quote was sent to me by mail as I was considering switching vocations. I ordered some deckled paper on Etsy, and the seller included the quote printed out on an extra sheet. At the time, I was making YouTube videos. Although I wouldn't have known how to describe it so precisely back then, that quote encapsulated perfectly what I was trying to do with my work: Retransmit powerful feelings that had moved me to improve my life. I managed to get over 10 million views on my channel and received many comments indicating that, to some degree, I was succeeding at inspiring others:
Receiving these comments and hundreds of others just like them was very fulfilling and spurred me on to create more videos. I also published a non-fiction book which I promoted on my YouTube channel that ended up being quite successful.
I was entertaining and motivating people to make their lives better, and it felt great. But gradually, my own motivation began to wane. There are several reasons for this, but one factor has gained ascendancy in my memory, and it is also now dictating my future and how I will approach creative work for the rest of my life.
What I realized is this: The feeling I was working to transmit is easily found in many other places. YouTube is extremely saturated with lots of great motivational content. Although I felt I was doing things in a unique way and inspiring some people who might not have otherwise been reached, the overall difference I was making was relatively small. For most of my life, I've been driven to have a positive impact on others by creating things. When I fully realized that what I was creating was largely replaceable by work being done by so many others, my motivation quickly evaporated. I felt that it was no longer enough to create something that enriched people's lives. I wanted it to be something that they would very likely not get anywhere else.
And that's when I received the quote from the Etsy seller:
I put it up on my wall.
Tolstoy had articulated what I had been trying to do for years. And my experience making motivational content on YouTube had given me a complementary directive: Transmit not just a powerful feeling I had experienced, but a rare one—one that people weren't finding in many other places.
The moment those two goals became clear in my mind, I thought of Katawa Shoujo.
In a video called What Was Katawa Shoujo, the YouTuber Hiding in Public says, “When I think back on playing Katawa Shoujo, it doesn't feel like I played it; it feels like I lived it, and I mean that authentically.” This sentence captures precisely how Katawa Shoujo exists in my mind. I stumbled upon KS shortly after its release in 2012 and downloaded it with low/no expectations. What happened next is hard to put into words. Everyone who has had a powerful experience with KS already knows what it means to say “It feels like I lived it.” I'm not sure how many who haven't had that experience will understand. I'm not claiming that no other work of fiction is moving like KS, but it's clear to me, at least, that I could have gone my entire life without having a comparable experience.
There's an award-winning episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation in which Captain Picard is forced into a coma where he experiences/lives every day of the last 40 years of another person's life. He has a wife and eventually children that he raises to adulthood. But the years he spends in this other life are not only the last of that person's life, they are the final years of the civilization's existence. The planet is dying due to radiation from its sun. When the people there realized that they could not prevent the death of their planet, they decided instead to create the probe that gives Picard the experience of living that life. He realizes only at the end of his experience that the family and culture and society he has been a part of for decades has long been dead. This experience affects Picard deeply and is referenced many times in future episodes. It changes him.
What Katawa Shoujo proves is that such transformative experiences do not require 40 years. They do not even require 40 hours. Katawa Shoujo takes roughly 8-36 hours to get through, depending on how many routes one completes. Despite this brevity, stories of personal transformation inspired by the game abound on the internet. Auric Orange summarizes the effect KS was having on people immediately following its release: "That Summer, 4chan's horrible boards were inundated with the most positive community I've ever seen in my life; people who'd developed a sudden and drastic desire to improve themselves. Thousands took up distance running, drawing, writing, and tea-drinking. All wanted to be kinder to others. And curiously, most of those affected claimed to have lost all desire to masturbate; a phenomenon that normally persisted for weeks, and which I can personally attest was real."
The feeling of having lived Katawa Shoujo really hit me when I went back to the game recently, nearly a decade after my original playthrough. I found myself at the gates of Yamaku Academy, the track Fripperies began to play, and I was smitten with nostalgia like I had never experienced before. No other fictional experience has ever given me that kind of reverie. I've had incredibly meaningful experiences with novels, but there was something about the nostalgia I experienced when I went back to KS that proved to me that the visual novel is a special medium that can do things no other medium can.
When I was playing through Katawa Shoujo again, I periodically alt-tabbed to do two things:
First, I searched for testimonials of people who had similarly powerful experiences with Katawa Shoujo. Of these, I found a near unlimited supply. I've read through hundreds of reports of people talking about what KS meant to them, many of which are highly detailed and span hundreds of words. Here is one entirely typical sentence from the KS forums: “This visual novel has touched me very deeply. It's shaken me to my absolute core, and I am very serious about this. I can with confidence say I'm a different person than I was this Friday.” Extrapolating from how many people took the time to write something like this, it is safe to say that many thousands of others had similar experiences with the game that have gone unreported.
Second, I searched for other visual novels that succeeded in giving people such experiences. Of these, I found none. That's not to say there aren't other great visual novels out there; there are. But the quantity of people proclaiming that KS changed their lives in the most superlative terms proves that the game does something that no other visual novel ever has.
By the time I finished KS again, my goal was clear: I want to create visual novels that can re-transmit this feeling myself and so many others had with Katawa Shoujo.
Section II goes into detail about what the core feeling/experience of Katawa Shoujo is, and how I am trying to understand and recapture that feeling.
I decided to write this essay in hopes of attracting other like-minded people to go on this journey with me. If you're interested in talking about that or Katawa Shoujo or anything related, please message me on Discord: Arcadia#0032
Over 2300 years ago in his book Poetics, Aristotle analyzed the most popular scripts of his time, noting the particular feelings each of those stories evoke and precisely how they evoke them. The most well-known script he analyzed was Oedipus Rex, which he determined had its story elements orchestrated to evoke fear and pity. His analysis was not merely descriptive, but prescriptive—explicitly meant to equip future authors to use similar story elements to evoke those feelings within their own stories.
Aristotle's analysis of Oedipus is the most ancient example of the simple two-step process of reverse-engineering a script. The process is as follows:
First, you identify one of the key feelings evoked by a script.
Second, you trace that feeling back to the story element in the script that caused it. In the case of Oedipus, the feelings of fear and pity were evoked most strongly during the story climax, when Oedipus has his tragic epiphany that he had fulfilled the prophecy of killing his father and marrying his mother.
Aristotle showed that by reverse engineering from the feelings evoked by a story, we can come to understand the key story element—in this case tragic epiphany—that contributes to those feelings. But despite how long ago it began, the practice of reverse engineering stories to understand and recreate their effects is now once again on the cutting edge of story analysis and creation, used by theorists and practitioners like the screenwriters in the story labs of Pixar.
Back to Katawa Shoujo
I spoke a great deal about how extraordinary Katawa Shoujo is in its emotional impact. It's so extraordinary that I've even read comments of fans saying that they're glad the creators didn't try to make another visual novel, because replicating the emotional impact of KS is impossible. But the fact that what KS achieves is so rare and exceptional—rather than indicating that no one should try to recreate that magic—makes it a much more worthy goal to pursue. Given the enormous diversity of horror movies that evoke fear, crime shows that evoke intrigue, and romance novels that evoke warm, fuzzy smittenness, it should be clear that for each feeling that can be transmitted through literature, there is no limit to the number of distinct stories that can be crafted to make audiences feel them.
So, it's possible. And although it may seem daunting and there is much to learn along the way, I find it extremely heartening to observe that KS is composed of extremely basic elements. There is nothing in it one can point to that requires a genius to create or understand. And with every moment of understanding I've had as to how KS makes readers feel the way it does, trying to re-transmit that feeling has become more alluring and seemed more and more within reach.
With an eye towards that understanding, one of the most important components of this project of retransmitting the emotion of KS is to filter through all its story elements and accurately discern which creative decisions contribute to it being so impactful. This is a crucial step because we must be extremely wary of falling into the trap of mirroring superficial elements of KS, thinking that mimicry alone will achieve the same emotional resonance. As professor at Ohio State University's Project Narrative Angus Fletcher says, "If you copy the superficial details of your favorite script, you'll end up with a cheap knockoff. But if you use reverse engineering to go beneath the script's surface, you can discover its deeper creative logic, coming to understand why the author made the choices that she did. And once you understand why the author made the choices that she did, you can then tweak and adapt and extend those choices, making new creative decisions of your own."
So, if the goal is to re-transmit the key emotion of KS, what is that emotion?
In his essay, The Emotion Whose Name You Do Not Know: A Katawa Shoujo Retrospective, Auric Orange did for Katawa Shoujo what Aristotle did for Oedipus Rex: Analyze the script to understand the key emotional evocation that drove its impact. He determined that "Katawa Shoujo achieves its resonance by evoking a specific emotion, one most often called 'Elevation,' or 'Kama muta,' ... one you feel when you see a relationship suddenly intensify – like when two people finally become a couple; or are reunited after years apart. It often feels like warmth in the chest, moist eyes, tears, a lump in your throat, 'the chills,' or feelings of buoyancy. But the most powerful form of elevation comes from watching somebody selflessly reach down to pick up someone in the absolute depth of self-loathing, or despair."
Auric Orange's essay is 60,000-words long, all aimed at explaining how Katawa Shoujo evokes this feeling he identifies as elevation or kama muta. The entire essay is brilliant, and I owe a great deal to Auric Orange for publishing it on his blog on January 4th, 2021. I believe he is correct, that kama muta/elevation is the most important emotion evoked by Katawa Shoujo, and that understanding how it evokes that emotion can help empower us to retransmit it.
Let's now analyze two early elements of Katawa Shoujo and see how they orient the story towards the evocation of kama muta: The opening scene and Hisao's heart condition.
The Opening Scene
The opening scene of Katawa Shoujo is brilliant, but in a very specific way. At a sentence level, the writing is unremarkable, but several key decisions made on a structural/story level accomplish so much more than any beautiful sentence ever could. The first thing I notice is that the writers understood that if they did not grab the audience's interest immediately, readers may quit and uninstall at any moment. This is true of most media we now consume. In his Masterclass lecture series, screenwriter Aaron Sorkin notes that if one writes a play or musical, they can generally assume that audience members won't walk out in the middle of a live show. For those watching a movie in a theatre, walking out is more likely but still uncommon. But for a TV show, YouTube video, or visual novel, the audience usually enters with no commitment, ready to leave at the first hint of boredom, so it's imperative to capture their interest immediately.
Katawa Shoujo does this beautifully. After a few lines of description, it invites the reader to share in Hisao's imminent anticipation of meeting a girl—Iwanako—who is on her way to see him. When readers learn that the protagonist is waiting to meet a girl, most will stick around to see how that interaction goes, and BAM—already there is a little bit of interest and investment. The reader is doing what all writers must get their readers to do: Wonder what will happen next. By giving the reader an interaction with a girl that the protagonist wants/likes immediately, the game signals that that's what the game is about. The reader knows that love, or at least spending time with cute, likable girls, is on offer. It whets their appetite. It makes them excited for the possibilities that come with such interactions. And then, just when they are settling into this interaction with someone the protagonist describes as "the girl of his dreams," the game takes it away. This is necessary. If we want investment from the reader, we can't make things too easy for them, or the protagonist. The reader may think they want Iwanako, but what they really want is to earn the girl/relationship on their own.
Hisao's Heart Condition
So, the opening scene establishes that love is on offer, but won't be given away freely. Those are the positive stakes, dramatically illustrating what the protagonist/reader can strive for. But the heart attack Hisao suffers in the opening scene also establishes the negative stakes, showing that his very life hangs in the balance. Think about that: In a scene that takes a few minutes to read, the story has established that the stakes are life/death and love/loneliness. That is brilliant. And it sets up a recurring thought in Hisao's mind—that he must tread carefully and his choices matter. This is something that is also reinforced by the Nurse, who is constantly warning him against being careless with his heart condition; and Mutou, who says to him: "One wrong move in this world, and you’re left behind." So the opening scene establishes the high stakes of Hisao's story, and they are echoed to the reader throughout, reminding them: Take nothing for granted; your decisions matter.
What does all this have to do with kama muta? Well, the literal and most popular translation of kama muta is 'moved by love,' and one of the most common examples of kama muta is the deepening of a relationship or the establishment of mutual romantic feelings—basically the conversation Hisao was about to have before his heart literally could not take it. So there's a little tease of kama muta to come. But this scene relates to kama muta in a more important way: What we get from Hisao's timidness as he is waiting for/speaking with Iwanako, which is then reinforced by his heart attack, is his sensitivity and vulnerability. A big component of kama muta is people helping and being there for each other—most of Auric Orange's examples of kama muta in KS are the characters being kind and caring towards each other. Establishing Hisao as sensitive and vulnerable sets him up as someone in need of such kindness/love. And, of course, it also gets him to Yamaku Academy, where he meets people who will not only show him that love, but who are themselves vulnerable and in need of his kindness and love.
So, by reverse-engineering the opening scene of KS and noticing how it connects to the rest of the story, we have observed two story elements that seem to help evoke kama muta:
1. Establish the story's stakes early—both what the protagonist can hope to gain and what they stand to lose. Have the stakes be significant and related to the human need for love and kindness. Reinforce to the reader/protagonist that their destiny is in their hands and their decisions matter.
2. Have the protagonist be sensitive and vulnerable. The stakes must matter to them. They must feel things deeply and want love from others. If the protagonist genuinely doesn't care, then neither will the reader.
These guidelines certainly seem to make sense. It's hard to imagine kama muta being strongly evoked in a story about a character who was completely confident and truly did not feel things deeply. They are also supported by looking to other works that evoke kama muta. In the opening chapter of the award-winning novel The Fault in Our Stars, it's established that the protagonist has cancer as she meets a love interest at a cancer survivors meeting. Just like KS, the protagonist is sensitive and vulnerable, and the established stakes are life/death and love/loneliness. And just as can be found in the various routes of KS, the two main characters help fill a void in each other's lives that evokes kama muta in the characters and the reader. So, by reverse-engineering the key emotion evoked by these works, we have gone from specific story elements to general guidelines. We understand a little bit more about how they do what they do, and with that understanding, we can now use and tweak those guidelines to try to achieve the same effect in our own stories.
I hope this analysis shows some of the utility of reverse-engineering from emotional content to specific story elements. These were fairly basic examples, and our conclusions are not exactly revolutionary—any book on storytelling will tell you to establish stakes. For further insight into how KS evokes kama muta, I recommend reading Auric Orange's essay. Here are some of the closing paragraphs of that essay:
"Why was KS so inspirational?
"Let’s consider that emotion that precedes inspiration: Awe. In their seminal 2003 paper on that emotion, psychologists Keltner and Haidt noted that awe is what we typically feel when faced with something “vast.” The vastness can be anything physically large, like the sky, but also the incredible “size” of a person’s skill, or the magnitude of their generosity. Keltner and Haidt claimed that when an experience of awe is novel, it can have an especially profound effect. If it exceeds the limits of your conception, it can force your mental structure to reorganize itself. Such moments can be disorienting or frightening, but they can also, in Keltner’s and Haidt’s words: 'involve feelings of enlightenment and even rebirth, when mental structures expand to accommodate truths never before known.'
"I posit that the overwhelmingly vast feelings that people experienced on reading Katawa Shoujo—particularly elevation/kama muta—triggered in them this exact kind of awakening.
"People often praise KS for making them cry, but the moments that cause that—Emi breaking down on the rooftop, Hanako breaking down at the end, Lilly breaking down in the hospital, and Rin transcending everything up on the hill—aren’t sad. They’re moments where one character is in an absolute abyss of misery, or self-loathing. They expect rejection or judgment. Instead, Hisao reaches down, to offer them love, and lift them back up.
"Let’s now roll all this into one hypothesis: With Katawa Shoujo, the magnitude of elevation went above and beyond anything its readers had ever experienced. The vastness of that triggered an awe response, as conceived by Haidt. As part of that, the awe triggered an epiphany, leading readers to experience inspiration; with an intense desire to remake the wonderful aspects of KS in the real world—its kindness, its warmth, its love, and its drive to make the most of being alive."
The words ‘Katawa Shoujo’ refer to more than
just the game and the experience of playing it. They also refer to the story of
the project itself—the experience of making it, the culture that developed as a
group of people from around the world came together, putting in thousands of
hours of work over a period of 5 years. The process of developing KS was chronicled
by several of the project leaders, most notably Aura. In an interview given in October 2020, Aura said:
"For
me, KS is much more about the project than it is about the end result. I have
much more thoughts and emotions about the process of making it than I ever
could have about the thing that we made. Because it was 5 years of my life, and
the end result is just some game that I barely read through once. … I don’t
have the same kind of attachment to the details of the product that I have to
the details of how it was made."
This perspective validates a strong desire I have had for a long time to
be a part of a creative, goal-driven community. I have the forlorn sense of being disappointed by the friend groups I fell into when I was growing up, which also reflects a disappointment with the world. I feel that I was and am capable of so much more than what I have done, and I know now that what has been missing is a community of people with a shared goal working hard to achieve it. And that's what I want to create now.
I did my degree in creative writing, and throughout all those classes, never really felt drawn to the actual act of writing itself. I enjoyed producing things I was proud of, but the process was an uncomfortable slog. I wrote an entire non-fiction book driven by an impatient excitement to get to the end and get it out into the world. What I feel with this project, however, is an excitement to actually do the work. That's how I know this is what I must do with my life right now: Because I
am in love with the process even more than the imagined result. I consider writing
this essay to be a part of that process—I am in the midst of it right now—and I
find it incredibly fulfilling. In her book Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott
talks about the disappointing lack of fulfillment she felt after publishing her
first few books, but then explains, "I
still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try
to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is
cracked up to be. But writing is. Writing has so much to
give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself
to do—the actual act of writing—turns out to be the best part."
Anne is talking about writing, but I believe this applies to all creative work. I read this insight about creative life many years ago. I
understood it on an intellectual level, but it has taken me a long time to feel it—to feel more excited about the process of creating than the prospect of
getting to the end. And it is this attitude that I believe sustained KS over
its long development. Of course, it wasn’t always pervasive amongst everyone;
many of the people who worked on the game left for long periods due to burnout.
Some never returned. But in the developer blog, one can find Aura writing about
this theme of being in love with the process repeatedly, and this attitude that
he helped to cultivate was, I believe, an indispensable strength of the KS
development community:
"I don't really like reading visual novels. But I find making
one fascinating. I find it satisfying. I find it absolutely exhilarating
talking with 15 or so other people about our common vision, figuring out
problems, trashing their work, and getting mine trashed, beaming words straight
from my brain to my fingertips and every word means something to someone out
there. Even when we are down in the dumps and things are not going well, the
electrifying feeling is somewhere under all that.
"I remember when I started working on KS. There were no great visions. There was
no fanbase. There was no concept of any kind of how a visual novel is made. In
retrospect, there was no perceptible reason why I should pick that time, that
project as something I'd spend a considerable chunk of my time on for the next
howevermany years. I just thought it would be interesting. I traded a lot of
time spent on consuming media to creating some, talking about it, and getting
yelled at by people whose names I don't know. Worth it? Yes. Because it's just
too interesting to have missed any of this."
The allure
of this attitude is that it tells us that we are on the exciting side of
creation right now. It promises a form of fulfillment that is available
immediately and that, instead of requiring patience, requires only that we
begin. This attitude is certainly not easy to take on and there are many things
that can interfere with it, such as, you know, a crippling internet and video
game addiction. But as someone who has dealt with those kinds of things for
most of my life and is now finding a way past them, I just want to go further
and further in that direction, and I think that connecting with other people
who share that goal can be a great help with that.
I chose to
orient this essay around Katawa Shoujo rather than just visual novel creation because its story—which includes both
the game and its development—provides so much context for explaining what I am
seeking to create. My hope in writing this is that the creative goals and
philosophies I’ve expressed in this essay will resonate with a few people and lead
to conversations that may lead to something more.