An indie video game called Minecraft has been around for a few years and has many enthusiastic supporters. Players build constructions out of textured cubes in a 3D procedurally generated world. Other activities in the game include exploration, gathering resources, crafting, and combat. Multiple gameplay modes are available, including survival modes, a creative mode with unlimited resources, and an adventure mode.
A recent request by the British Museum in London has gone out to players. They want assistance to recreate the building and all the exhibits in the video game Minecraft. Part of the Museum of the Future scheme, the project aims to expand the institution's appeal.
Many real-life administrative structures have been recreated in the Minecraft universe, including Ordnance Survey and the Danish government, who aim to make young people more aware of their work.
What a great idea. While they are building, the players are learning what lies beneath the surface.
The organizers are hoping the collaboration will spread amongst young players who will help to construct the building brick by brick. Next comes figuring how to recreate something like the Elgin Marbles in Minecraft.
The British Museum features in my first two books of the Moonstone series, so the subject is dear to my heart. Also, the British Museum is part of the plot in the co-written futuristic Higher Ground Series, when the group of teens reach London to dive under the flooded area to find the ring under the Museum's great dome.
Here's an excerpt from my novel, Tidal Surge. You'll see the cover one the sidebar, one click away from an Amazon near you.
In the city proper, Oliver shut his window to block out the honking horns and hooting of impatient drivers while Eddie and Kaelyn kept up a running commentary about what they observed.
Liliha flopped against the backrest. Her daughter seemed to have simmered down.
"Let's have a ride on the wheel to look at the view," Eddie said.
"We'll see," Oliver said, "if we have time for a trip on The London Eye, after everything else. The queue is always pretty long." He drove past Trafalgar Square to the Kensington Palace gates, where the Queens' Guards stood with their red jackets and tall bear-skin hats. Further on beside cruise boats on the Thames River, they passed the obelisk of Cleopatra's Needle and drove to the Tower.
"I can't believe how ancient some of the buildings are," Eddie called from behind. "All that history. There's nothing like this in Australia."
They left the parked car and strode along beside busy pedestrians to the British Museum.
Inside the solid walls, Liliha brushed aside the stirring memory of her thwarted plan to gift the bracelet. She didn't suggest they visit the Egyptian section. She'd seen enough of the dark side of sacred jewelry for the moment.
Strolling amongst other sightseers into a section on ancient Greece, Liliha bent to examine a picture of two men fighting. Set against a gold background, their dark brown silhouette forms showed a realistic struggle.
Oliver faced a white stone statue of a man bending forward with his arm stretched behind, ready to throw a discus. He glanced across at her. "Wonderful. Look at the muscle formation."
Inside another glass case, Kaelyn and Eddie were bent over pictures of men lifting pointed weights with a handle in the middle. Kaelyn giggled. "They're going to do the ironing."
Liliha smiled. After all her tormented visions, everything felt so normal.
Once they'd observed every display in two large rooms, Oliver looked at his watch. "Come on, gang. We'd better make a move."
"Madame Tussauds?" Kaelyn asked.
Eddie nudged her. "The London Eye." He grinned.
Kaelyn shrugged. "I guess there's no time."
Oliver led the way to the entrance.
"Sorry, Mum," Kaelyn murmured. "I didn't mean to be awkward."
Liliha nodded an acceptance. On a normal family outing, amongst so many others doing the same thing, she emerged onto the streets of London. Honking horns sent an alert. The overcast sky renewed a feeling of oppression. Screeching brakes from a passing bus rekindled the memory of Oliver's painting of death.