This is a game – or a storytelling framework – that lets you go on a fairytale adventure. It's light and fun, but with depth to the mechanics: we especially liked the rules for transforming things and finding treasure. It's also got a great drop-in, drop-out mechanic ("Are you friend or foe?"). We'd love to go on a journey with this game
This is a game about hypermasculine chess players receiving instructions via buttplugs and now you already know whether it's a game for you. We especially appreciated the Tom of Finland-esque artwork, the shouting of random chess instructions and the bite-your-lip mechanic to stop you laughing.
There was an outpouring of queer games this year, but we especially appreciated The Space. It's a unique game that crafts a horror story around its designer's asexual experience, or, at least, an element of asexual experience ("This isn't what it is like, it's just what it feels like sometimes"). With echoes of Jeff Vandermeer's Annihilation, it asks the question "What would it feel like if you let the Space touch you?" and produces queasy and disturbing answers.
This thoughtful game does a great job of centering a person in their surroundings and is extremely playable anywhere one can find a small natural area. It prompts the player to think about the beauty of that space, and also makes one think about how terrifying that beauty can be. And despite all of that, it has a texting mechanic that introduces interaction and nuance into the framework of personal reflection at hand here.
The author of this game has described this game as “the stupidest thing I have ever written,” and we’re not here to second-guess them, but this game sparked near-universal enthusiasm among the judges. If anything, the game is gloriously stupid, reveling in a celebration of dick jokes, cool sticks, and copious use of the word “weiner,” both in the game text and in play. The game also features generational rivalry and a neat "Devil Went Down to Georgia" vibe, but honestly we’re mostly here for the stick measuring.
A cute and charming game that takes seriously the aspect of drop-in, drop-out play. You hang wishes on a tree, and then you play animals who are hatching plans on how to grant them. This organic design would be an absolute hit at a picnic full of nerds.
Being a duck is fun! Being a philosophical duck building consensus is even more fun. The mix of make-believe and storytelling makes this game well-suited to mixed-age groups and leaves a lot of room for players to determine their own level of commitment to the bit. It’s short enough that it doesn’t overstay its welcome, or a child’s attention span, and as a bonus, it uses quacking as a safety mechanic. QUACK!
ANDWe instantly loved this game and appreciated how clever it was and the delightful chaos it would cause. The roles and rules are simple enough to allow older children to play and younger children can just run around being chickadees. A bonus bit of fun lies in the role of being forest spirits answering questions.
This meditative game about reconstructing the life of a deceased loved one combines a light touch with the universal experience of death and a flower that can be found pretty much anywhere. The result is a clever game that uses the actual local environment to determine setting and pacing details, encourages players to come to terms with death in the way many of us do, focusing on small details, either because of the impossible scale of the loss or because those small details are all that remains after the passage of time. And the creation of something beautiful is part of the play experience. We can’t wait to stand in a field and try this game.
An extremely horny game that communicates ideas and experiences through novel mechanics in a way that more directly didactic games aspire to. Reminiscent of Jeanette Winterson's "Written on the Body" in its tone and melding of the mundane and erotic, this game asks "Do I dare to eat a peach?" but the peach is not a metaphor except sometimes, maybe, but it's definitely also actually a peach.