Twelve Blue Review

Last Thursday’s class introduced us to different types of literature, one being hypertext fiction. In that section, she gave examples, such as choose your own adventure stories and Twelve Blue. With that in mind, I came into this thinking it would be something like a choose your own adventure story. Plus, when I read the author’s description, it gave off that same kind of vibe. So heading into this e-lit, I was excited to see where my choices would take me.

This wasn’t that. You see numbers one through eight on the first page, and I picked one. The first story was full of metaphors, which was kind of distracting and made it hard to grasp the message and imagine what was taking place. There also was one hyperlink per page, or so I thought. Each page was a new story, and it lacked cohesion. Since I thought this journey would lead me to multiple possibilities, this was kind of disappointing.

As I continued, I eventually got to a page with no more hyperlinks. This had me lost, considering I had no idea what to do. On the side of the screen were these lines, kind of like wavelengths. I clicked on one, and it brought me to a new read. Eventually, I got to a story called Shipwreck and Lost Love. This was my favorite since it was the first story I actually understood. I enjoyed the Lisle and Javier romance that was bubbling. I also enjoyed the Salt Shores story, as it was adorable and had innocent charm.

As I continued, I hit another wall, a page with no more hyperlinks. All in all, this was slightly confusing but most unenjoyable to me. The e-lit world is all new to me, so naturally, this is a new experience, and I have to get the hang of navigating these experiences. However, outside of that, the content was hard to comprehend as the writing style made it hard for me to be captivated and appreciate it for what it was.

TWELVE BLUE

What is this?! What exactly am I reading? I have never experienced hypertext fiction, I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting but I definitely did not expect this. When reading the author’s description I said to myself “Wow there is a lot going on here” but I was excited to read about it all.

I started to skim through the reading just to see what it was all about I started at one ( Follow Me) then backed out and went to two (Riven Wishes) and so on and so forth. At this point, I became very confused and asked myself, “What is this?!” “Did I miss something?” “This isn’t making sense at all!!”. I went back to ‘Follow Me’ and read it a few times. After reading it a few times, I figured out there was a hyperlink that takes me to another story. I thought to myself “Ok now I think I got it. This is all going to tie together.” It didn’t.

I continued to click as much as possible and honestly, nothing made sense to me. I’m not sure what I read, I’m not sure what any of them meant. I felt as though all of the short stories were incomplete and always left me guessing and confused. I’m interested to read more hypertext fiction and hopefully, things make more sense as I continue to read them.

An introduction

My name is Ricki Everett. I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, a teacher and most recently a student…again. I am extremely anxious about starting my first semester of graduate school. I have never really been good with change but lately I have been trying to make a conscious effort to relax and take everything in stride, easier said than done of course. I have also recently been interested in reintroducing myself to hobbies I had when I was younger. Last weekend I took a dance class for the first time in 10 years and this weekend I am going to a boxing class. I was always really athletic growing up and honestly enjoyed doing so many things that I have not made time for in a while. One thing I did realize while being in a brand new dance class is how shy I actually am. I felt so uncomfortable. I had to remind myself that being uncomfortable because something is new again is not a bad thing to feel. It is not something I have to avoid or run from, but rather accept and invite in. That is what I am now telling myself about my higher education journey as well.

I am the oldest of 4 girls and feel as though that statement reflects my personality in the most honest way. If you were to ask my sisters what kind of person I was they would definitely say I am serious, strong, structured, private and maybe even a bit bossy. That would not exactly be a lie. My grandma always says “Bossy parents make bossy kids” and although she meant it as more of a dig to my mom; I have to admit the shoe fits. What my family probably do not realize is how much I love them and how responsible for them I feel. A lot of what I do is to make my mom proud and I am constantly ensuring that the choices I make reflect those of a good role model for my sisters. The hard exterior I give off is nothing more than a girl that strives to be the best she can be for the people she loves, which I can admit does not make me the most warm and fuzzy person.(Its a work in progress lol)

I wholeheartedly think my personality is what led me to teaching. I really cannot see myself doing anything else. I feel like when I tell people I am a teacher they immediately assume I am warm and fuzzy and spend my days singing nursery rhymes. In reality, I am gearing up everyday to take on the scariest enemy of them all… middle school kids. Whats interesting about me is the oddest things warm my heart and make me love what I do. Yes, I find the cute and fuzzy moments adorable but what really tugs at my heart strings is having the student the everyone has labeled as “bad” or “a waste of time” and I look at them and see nothing but someone who needs someone that cares about them. I love the growth I see in them and building relationships in the most unexpected ways. I am always the teacher, leader or counselor that gravitated towards the kids that were “more difficult” and in turn I am labeled crazy for preferring that child. But its something about them that I cannot help but see all the potential in the world. It takes an intelligent child and big personality to be the most difficult in a classroom.

I wanted to be a part of this master program to match my skills with my heart, be someone that my family can be proud of, and most importantly prove to myself that I can do anything I put my mind to . I have been so nervous about teaching full time, going back to school, and integrating that all in my “very much still 24 years old” social life. I often forget that I have accomplished difficult things before. I have overcome obstacles before and I do not need to be intimidated by anything.

An Hour in “Twelve Blue”

“So a random set of meanings has softly gathered around the word the way lint collects. The mind does that.” from On Being Blue by William Gass.

Quotes always seem to strike me in ways that they aren’t intended to, but my first thought when I read this on the first page of Joyce’s Twelve Blue was “wow, that’s so true.” But of course, in my mind “the word” was read as “The Word.” The way I saw the statement to be true is really because I have a couple friends that are extreme chronic over thinkers (meanwhile I’m just the chronic over thinker). I’m always helping them sort through their thoughts because how I’ve adapted to deal with the overwhelming quantity of thoughts in my own mind: compartmentalizing it all. These two still struggle with letting the dust sit and collect around the Word that reminds them constantly of how loved and cared for they are. Everyone struggles with that though whether we realize it or not; we too often get stuck in our own thoughts or the negative opinions of others that we forget to do something with that. The way I’ve been phrasing it lately:

The only difference between guilt and conviction is that guilt will only let the dust pile up; conviction means you’re cleaning up your act. They feel the same to start, but have very different endings.

And maybe that might seem like it has so little to do with the piece at hand, but with the outlook I typically have on life it did seem relevant that Twelve Blue opened with this quote. It gave this tone over the entirety what I read of this piece much like Solomon gives in the book of Ecclesiastes– that all we do seems to be in vain. Depending on the translation, the key phrase throughout that book tended to be “all is vanity,” (which can also e translated as “mere breath” or “vapor”) and “everything is meaningless.” I mean it’s hard not to have that outlook on life when even from Genesis it’s pointed out that we were once made from dust, and to dust we shall return (Gen. 3:19).


“Follow me.”

I clicked on the first hyperlink below the image on the starting page of this hypertext fiction and found it funny how this phrase came up so often. I almost felt like some modern day Nicodemus that wanted to go along with the story, but simultaneously didn’t want to. (The obvious difference being that I did continue through the story for some time though). While the story itself was interesting and I could appreciate it for the art it is, there were details on every page that made me uneasy. Believe me, with a testimony like mine I am no prude, but when a story says something like “a girl will leave stale candy for a hard man,” or “a girl will slip out of arabesques for a priestly man,” I’ll get a bit uneasy– especially considering this part of the hypertext had mentioned both a 15-year-old girl and a full grown woman.

This was not a story I quite wanted to continue to follow at that point because I wasn’t entirely sure whether this was talking about two different situations, or how one young girl’s habits change as she grows. With it being more clear on the latter, I would have felt a bit more comfortable continuing than I did. But that just wasn’t the case. So I put some big girl pants on and kept going.

Things that were blue tally:

  • blueberry cotton candy
  • thief’s indigo eyes (if indigo counts as blue?)
  • dim cobalt sconce lights
  • dark blue veins of his manicured fingers
  • thin blue snow
  • The evening star is icy phosphor
  • I’ll have a blue, blue, blue [Christmas]

“Follow me before the choices disappear.” lead me to another short narrative about September’s embers. This slice of the story was probably my favorite to be honest, likely because I’m more of a poet that loves to play with sounds that seem to slide off the tongue. I this part of the piece was also relatable; periods aren’t the most fun, after all, especially when you have to ask to go to the bathroom in class and you feel like you have to explain why even though you don’t.

I’ll be honest though, I was wondering what “blood begin[ning]” really meant until I got to the whispers to Mother Superior asking for that “lavatory pass.” I thought maybe it had to do with people itching for Halloween as the end of September approaches (a sentiment to which I personally cannot relate). Once I read that line though, it just felt like one of those major *facepalm* type moments.

I also just couldn’t get over the use of the phrase “river of air” in this piece. There really wasn’t a reason for bringing this point up besides the fact that it was just so poetic. I love that.

And this part of the hypertext ended with another hyperlink on the sentences “So young…” she sighs. As if the seasons were whose fault?”

Things that were blue tally:

  • blueberry cotton candy
  • thief’s indigo eyes (if indigo counts as blue?)
  • dim cobalt sconce lights
  • dark blue veins of his manicured fingers
  • thin blue snow
  • The evening star is icy phosphor
  • I’ll have a blue, blue, blue [Christmas]
  • new blue leather Mary Janes
  • bottle of blue polish

I didn’t think to look at the names of the tabs before this one, but the next story’s title, though not shown on the page itself, is cornflowers.

Something else I hadn’t noted about the first part of this hypertext fiction is that there was a seemingly random detail at the end that “There’s a rumor someone drowned in the river.” And maybe that’s where the “river of air” also came from on the second page this story led me to. I hadn’t gathered the two details until the narrator mentions Samantha wanting to invite “Javier’s daughter, the girl whose boyfriend drowned in the creek” to some sort of tea party. The discomfort I’d felt on the first page had evaporated at this point for me: loss is heavy on anyone, and I could honestly say that Samantha was trying to do right by Javier’s poor daughter. It’s so easy to isolate when you lose someone, and having someone reach out can mean the world and then some to someone dealing with that kind of trauma.

I’ll be honest though, I didn’t analyze this part of the text too much because I got sidetracked by the fact there have apparently been a few hyperlinks in the image on the left side of the page this whole time. So I realized there was a choice beyond the starting page on where I went with this story after all. But how do I choose? I can tell there are words in the image that make the hyperlinks there, but they’re so small I can’t quite read what they say without zooming in. The one hyperlink in the text says “wake from one dream into another…” which is a lot of what life’s been feeling like for me lately. So I zoomed in on the image only to realize they weren’t words after all. Disappointing.

I wanted to click on the words because they were relatable, but the image really piqued my interest, so I clicked on the very bottom edge of the image and…

Things that were blue tally:

  • blueberry cotton candy
  • thief’s indigo eyes (if indigo counts as blue?)
  • dim cobalt sconce lights
  • dark blue veins of his manicured fingers
  • thin blue snow
  • The evening star is icy phosphor
  • I’ll have a blue, blue, blue [Christmas]
  • new blue leather Mary Janes
  • bottle of blue polish
  • (none added)

It lead me back to the part of the story that made me feel uncomfortable in the beginning. Underwhelming.

I noticed this time though that the title of this slice of the story is How she knew. Knew what?

But I guess that’s something I wasn’t meant to find out in an hour in the world of Twelve Blue. With the nonlinear nature of hypertext, I found the parts of the narrative a bit more difficult to comprehend, but given that each part os short (I just took a long time analyzing it), it wasn’t hard to connect details as they came. I continued a bit past the hour assigned for class and continued to find the same questions come up of “What connects this and the previous parts?” and “Why Twelve Blue and not some other number?” The latter question I never quite got an answer to, but I have a few guesses as to what that might be.

Twelve Blue by Michael Joyce

In reading Twelve Blue, a hypertext fiction by Michael Joyce, the first emotion at the forefront of my mind was a sort of worry. What if I…read it wrong? Navigated through it wrong? What if I hit the wrong buttons in the wrong order, what if I skipped over something, what if I missed the story connections between things because I was getting wrapped up in worries about navigation? What if I wound up reading the story totally incorrectly? Jessica Pressman’s article “Navigating Electronic Literature” can do a lot to assuage those fears, so long as I really let myself trust it (which, I found out, wasn’t as easy as one might think!)

In her article, Pressman stresses how navigation through an e-lit piece helps to create the meaning of that piece, and how there is no “single” story in a piece but that each reading determines the story as it occurs. Going by that, then, there’s no way to read an e-lit piece incorrectly because there’s no solid, set story or meaning that you’re supposed to be getting out of it; the story is fluid, unique to each reader.

I will admit, as a writer, this idea doesn’t sit easily with me. When I write, I am trying to tell a specific story to the reader, even if the way they interpret that story differs. I know, of course, that an author cannot control the way readers interpret their work once its out in the world. There is Roland Barthes’ “death of the author,” the idea that it is the reader, not the writer, that gives meanings to words in a text. And, seeing as I wrote a paper for a class last year arguing the importance and validity of fanfiction as meaningful interpretation of a work that can extend the “life cycle” of a book, it would be hypocritical of me to say that writers have any big, final say in the way their work is interpreted after its publication or in what it all means. I certainly see the validity in texts being open to interpretation, and every story will have a different meaning for different people. Despite this, I suppose the extreme openness of e-lit pieces, the vagueness of their meaning (because of the sometimes vast amount of readings a single piece can have) just makes me…uneasy. But that’s probably a good thing. New experiences tend to be uncomfortable at first.

To continue more specifically with my one-hour reading of Twelve Blue, I noticed that the story immediately presents the reader with a choice: there are several different “beginning” hyperlinks to click on the opening page of the story, as well as an image. I began by clicking the image, though I was initially tempted to click the first link, my brain still telling me “well, that’s probably the right place to begin.” Even with Pressman’s article fresh in my brain, I found it hard to give up on the idea that there was a correct way to do this.

Throughout the story (at least, the parts of it that I experienced), I noticed that there were not actually an abundance of choices once you were already on a “thread”; each lexia seemed to contain only one clickable link. This is in contrast to one of the examples shown in Pressman’s article which presented a hyperlink story where there were multiple choices of clickable links on one lexia. Of course, in Twelve Blue you could have also chosen, at any point, to click one of the threads in the sidebar and go somewhere completely different (or so I assume. I followed each thread through to its end instead of jumping around in this way, so I’m not actually sure what clicking on a thread while in the middle of a different one would have done, if where it took you would have actually been “completely different.” And, of course, it seems everything in these threads is ultimately linked in some way, so…yeah. Maybe there is no “completely different” after all.) Speaking of that ultimate linking, all the threads I’d tackled (except for one, that finished on a dead end) seem to end on the same page, which spoke about how “everything can be read.” Very fitting. That page, in turn, contained a link to the previous page, creating an endless loop, not an actual ending.

Pressman’s article actually makes direct mention of these endless loops, stating “some hypertexts may not even contain a definitive ending but instead continue in endless loops of lexias; such works depend upon the reader to resolve when to finish reading the work.” In a way, Twelve Blue also notes this phenomenom: there is a story in one of the threads about a carnival ride that spins in a circle. A mother and daughter ride it while the father operates it. It is stated that the mother and daughter wave when they want him to stop the ride. Just as they choose when to get off of the ride, the reader of Twelve Blue chooses when they wish to stop the ending “loop.”

Initially, I found it hard to deciper who was who in each thread. It was only once I started getting through more and more of them that I began to make some connections between characters, names, events, and relationships. While reading, I found it helpful to take notes once I figured something out, such as noting that “Lisle=Samantha’s mother,” and later “Lisle (aka Lee) is the virologist.” The information is spread out all across the threads, so you’d have to finish them all to make some kind of coherent sense of everything. It would also be helpful to reread once you’ve finished it all once and figured out who is who, what is what, and so forth.

Besides this difficulty of knowing who was who, and a related difficulty of knowing which character was being talked about at any given time(both of which I feel were likely intentional on Joyce’s part), I noticed that the different blue color of an already-clicked link blends in with the background, making it impossible to see that already-clicked link unless you highlight it with your mouse. This creates visual gaps in stories where a link brings you somewhere you’ve been before. I wonder if this was intentional as well, but it makes it very easy to miss the link and therefore the connections on a page, so I’m not sure.

Something this style of hyperlink fiction does very well is build suspense and slowly add, bit by bit, to an unfolding mystery. I found myself wanting to know more about the boy who drowned, about how he was connected to these other people, and about how these other people were connected to each other. I think this medium is excellent for exploring the relationships between characters, using literal links to explore the metaphorical links between people. I enjoyed this read, and though I didn’t finish all the threads in this hour long session, I will probably go back and finish them on my own in an attempt to solve the mysteries I’m left with.