Bury Me, My Love throws the user into a dialogue that is foreign to the user, but familiar to the character whose story the user assumes. The format of the game does a remarkable job of stimulating an authentic conversation that could be happening on your own phone— except for the fact that I am not in Syria, nor was I during the civil war, and the only dependents for whom I am partially responsible are my dogs. I have very much enjoyed navigating the game because the war in Syria is often a hot debate topic for Americans, many of whom know next to nothing about any real person on the ground. Nour and Majd humanize a well-known conflict, one that my normal method of intel is at least three degrees removed from the matters at hand. To use something as simple as a text notification engages the user and places him on the same level from which he would communicate with his mother, his significant other, or even the dog walker. Something about visualizing the dots as the other user is typing and hitting send as the user sends “his own” messages connects the user to the game in a way that other forms of electronic literature, tethered to a desktop, fail to do.
Bury Me, My Love begs the question— how do modern e-lit authors best reach their audience? Is the smartphone the most efficient? If that’s the case, then creators lend themselves to all sorts of additional trials and tribulations that a familiar computer set-up lacks. Does the advantage of the emotional intimacy that this game allows outweigh the production labors; and if so, is it sustainable?