I’ve never once been able to figure out where I want to be in five years. I’ve never made a decision about my own future with a long-term goal in mind. I’ve never decided upon a “career trajectory.” While taking photography classes and making vlogs in high school I decided to become a cinematographer in the exact moment a student councilor asked me if I knew where I wanted to go to college. After six months in film school I dropped out to move in with and join a band. After that came the last Blockbuster in New Jersey. Then a movie theater. A cafe. An office phone refurbishment company and then a circuit breaker refurbishment company down the street from the office phone refurbishment company. A tech start up. Comic book company. Ten years have passed since I entered the work force and even now I’m not sure I have a concrete idea of who I am in the context of who I want to become. After dropping out, the immediate need to pay off my student loans meant I’ve always said “yes” to circumstances and opportunities as they arose. Anything to dig myself out of the debt, out from the shame I hadn’t yet realized was coming from unfounded anxieties. I just wanted to prove I was more than a “college dropout” by working my way towards more and more impressive sounding jobs, as if that single choice defined me. That journey, that rejection of a mindless climb towards a perceived societal vision of “success” that’s grossly misaligned from actual human need is at the heart of Lake.
For two weeks in 1986 protagonist Meredith Weiss is tasked with delivering mail to the residents of Providence Oaks, the small and beautiful town in which she grew up. Having moved to “the big city” to pursue a career in the fast-paced world of software programming, she hasn’t returned home for an extended period in over a decade. Gameplay involves driving a United States Postal Service truck around the titular lake, slipping envelopes into mailboxes and occasionally hand-delivering packages when the need arises. As with any job that involves human contact, Meredith frequently gets into stop-and-chat conversations with the residents of Providence Oaks: An old friend from high school left behind, an acquaintance of her father’s with a shaky past, the owner of a local diner who still remembers Meredith’s “usual” — one slice of blueberry pie. These seemingly innocuous discussions pave the way for Meredith to reflect on her time spent away and consider the differences between the life she has and the life she’s slowly starting to realize she wants.
There’s an audacity to Lake in its command of subtlety: You’ll always be driving the speed limit around town, and there’s no run button to be found when you’re not sitting behind the wheel. Meredith’s daily route is slow and purposeful; her leisurely jaunt through Providence Oaks forces the player to sit with the weight of these decisions — it’s impossible to not ask yourself the same questions when given so much time. Most of my experience in-game was spent just as it was in high school: Disposable camera in-hand, driving around Meredith’s hometown looking for beautiful photographs while wondering about my future. At any point in life “who am I now” is as difficult a question to consider as “who do I want to be,” but given two weeks in a sleepy town with a few low-stakes tasks and the comfort of conversation with others, Lake helped me get slightly closer to finding answers than before.
For two weeks in 1986 protagonist Meredith Weiss is tasked with delivering mail to the residents of Providence Oaks, the small and beautiful town in which she grew up. Having moved to “the big city” to pursue a career in the fast-paced world of software programming, she hasn’t returned home for an extended period in over a decade. Gameplay involves driving a United States Postal Service truck around the titular lake, slipping envelopes into mailboxes and occasionally hand-delivering packages when the need arises. As with any job that involves human contact, Meredith frequently gets into stop-and-chat conversations with the residents of Providence Oaks: An old friend from high school left behind, an acquaintance of her father’s with a shaky past, the owner of a local diner who still remembers Meredith’s “usual” — one slice of blueberry pie. These seemingly innocuous discussions pave the way for Meredith to reflect on her time spent away and consider the differences between the life she has and the life she’s slowly starting to realize she wants.
There’s an audacity to Lake in its command of subtlety: You’ll always be driving the speed limit around town, and there’s no run button to be found when you’re not sitting behind the wheel. Meredith’s daily route is slow and purposeful; her leisurely jaunt through Providence Oaks forces the player to sit with the weight of these decisions — it’s impossible to not ask yourself the same questions when given so much time. Most of my experience in-game was spent just as it was in high school: Disposable camera in-hand, driving around Meredith’s hometown looking for beautiful photographs while wondering about my future. At any point in life “who am I now” is as difficult a question to consider as “who do I want to be,” but given two weeks in a sleepy town with a few low-stakes tasks and the comfort of conversation with others, Lake helped me get slightly closer to finding answers than before.