Picross: My Love, My Hate, My Muse
By Adam Leif
I have somewhere around 280 hours of total playtime across five of the Picross S games. And still, three of these games go unfinished — S2 and S4, which I hadn’t realized were stuck in limbo, and S5, which I’ve been working through intermittently over many, many months. For me, Picross isn’t a game that I sit down and completely clear over the span of a couple days. No, it’s more elusive, a long hunt like no other, one unmatched by the likes of Super Smash Bros or Mario Kart. Unmatched by Wii Boxing and its kin. It’s a beast to be conquered.
Before I elaborate, it’s worth explaining in simple terms what Picross is and how it works.
Imagine if you really, really liked paint by numbers, but you wanted to do away with the silly little paints and brushes. No more physical medium, but all digital. And, hey, while we’re at it, let’s add a little puzzle element to this whole thing. Wouldn’t that be fun? That’s exactly what that is. This is paint by numbers… for gamers.
You’re given a blank grid of cells — 5x5, 10x10, 15x15, or 20x15. Each row and column of said grid has one or more numbers next to it representing how the squares need to be filled in — something like “1 1” means that there are two individually filled squares with at least one space between them, while something like “3” means that there are three squares filled in right next to each other; the possibilities are nearly endless. The aim of the game is to fill in all of the required squares in order to create some kind of predetermined pixel art, which the game will color in for you at the end. They look a little something like this:
This is just the standard mode.
Mega Picross has you fill in squares across both one and two columns/rows, Color Picross has you color as you go, and Clip Picross creates one giant pixel art piece from an amalgamation of smaller, standard Picross puzzles. For brevity's sake I won’t explain how the rules change in Mega and Color, but I think you get the point — the game is extensive. I have poured my heart and my soul into it.
And for what?
You see, I have a white whale in this game, one that I seemingly can’t conquer no matter how many hours I put into it — Mega Picross. I refuse to look up strategy guides, only abiding by the few tips the game gives you, hoping, praying, pleading for my personal experience to be enough.
And yet it isn’t.
The sun rises, and I turn my body from it. What ho, wretched ball of flame! Let me toil and suffer in peace. Oh! You unfinished levels of mine; you undefeated beasts; you foul creations; I cling tight to the attempts I make to conquer your horrid designs, as time grows minutes at a time, the clock counting continuously. I feel as though I may perish, under the terrible rays, scorning and scorching me after a night of slow goings, and slower successes. Am I cut off from the last vestige of pride remaining, that of my past self who sought and saw victory, who conquered and celebrated and bathed in his own self-veneration? Oh, lonely loss and lonely life! Oh, now I feel my topmost greatness lies in my topmost grief. Ho, ho! From all your furthest bounds, let dread pour in, so I may rest my tired head upon pillows of failure! Towards thee I climb, and fall, and climb again, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I rant and rave and write of thee, only for my last cries to fall on deaf ears. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! And since none can be mine, and all escapes my grasp, furious and desperate though I swing, wretchedly though I clutch, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing success in thee, though tied to thee, thou damned series! Thus, I concede my failures in thee! S2 and S4, S5, thy elusive Mega puzzles escape me, fill me with pain as they taunt me with near success; yet all falls to bits as I fill the last cell, and see the fruits of my labor spoiled and sullied. Was I a fool to toil with no assistance, rejecting the stratagems and strategies of those greater than I? Mistakes I make leave a row ruined, a column corrupted, and the puzzle in peril. Yet the sun may set, still, and a moment of divine glory fills my mind; I see a path through the errors, born of experience and desperation, one which will allow me to escape the death throes of thy wanton design and mine errors; a cell shifted, another cleared, and my efforts come to fruition. Alas the sun shines bright from above, scalding my skin, and I face death in the embrace of my cruel master’s designs.
And die though I may, I shall rise again another night, my sisyphean task before me.