by Łukasz Jakóbiec
Blocks: build it like Minecraft. Play it on your kitchen table.
Build a tiny house. Turn it into a real object. Give it a secret and a story. Blocks connects familiar block building with 3D printing—and gives parents a very good excuse to join in.
Here is a dangerous invitation for a parent: “Help me build a tiny tavern.”
It needs a roof, obviously. Perhaps a garden. Definitely a suspicious door at the back. Give that idea a few minutes and you may find yourself planning the village around it.
That is the part of Blocks that hooks me. You build with familiar Minecraft-style blocks, then ask to turn a creation into something you can hold. And once that little building reaches the table, it can become the setting for a game your family makes up together.
A child builds the tavern. You invent the visitor who arrives after dark. Or swap jobs and let your child run the adventure. Suddenly, your very important roof project has a plot.
A familiar way to build, with somewhere new to go
Blocks is a standalone browser game. If your child knows the pleasure of placing one cube beside another until a house appears, the basic idea will feel familiar. There are stone and brick, wood, roof tiles and other materials; you can walk around your creation or fly up to inspect it.
The building happens on small plates scattered through a landscape of hills and trees. Each plate is a manageable project: a house here, a tower there. That is a useful starting point for a family. “Let’s finish this little building” gives you something concrete to aim for.
Try the Just build button on the opening screen. It lets you experiment without an account, saving the world on that computer. Printing and sharing need a child account linked to the family portal; solo mode is enough to find out whether you both want to keep placing blocks.
The button that changes the conversation: “Make it real!”
Blocks’ building mechanics were designed around 3D printability from the start. The rules you play with already account for the physical object you want to make. Blocks checks support as you build: a floating block is refused, and a bridge that reaches too far needs a pillar. Overhanging blocks can gain sloping supports that appear in both the game and the exported model.
That turns practical constraints into part of the play. Where does the weight go? What could hold that balcony up? Children can experiment, see what the building needs and change their design while it is still easy to move a few blocks.
The screenshot below shows an actual child-built house. It has a stepped brick roof and a small garden, and its print record is already marked completed.
For a signed-in child, Make it real! opens a request to name the build and send it to a parent. On a keyboard, the shortcut is P. The child sees how many printing blocks the model needs.
The parent gets a rotatable 3D preview, chooses the scale and can approve or decline. The house shown here was set to 8 mm per block, giving it dimensions of 64 × 128 × 64 mm. Those numbers make for a better discussion than “How big is big?” Put a ruler on the table and decide together.
Approval produces an STL, the model file used for 3D printing. An adult still prepares it in a slicer and runs the printer; approval does not automatically start a machine. Building rules help with printable shapes, but the model still deserves that final check.
The current print workflow uses one colour. Different materials get raised surface patterns, so brick and wood can remain distinguishable on the object. Glass blocks are left out of the print. The parent preview has a glass toggle to help explain what will actually become solid.
Parents also allocate the printing-block allowance. Treat it as a project budget: “Which building do we want to make first?” The number labelled cost in the screenshot is a count of printing blocks, not a cash price.
And here it is, off the screen. This is the same house shown in the header, now printed in white. The stepped roof, open doorway and little garden have made the journey from a child’s world to the desk.
Now give that house a secret
The RPG possibility is what makes me want to keep building. A tiny house can be an inn, a watch post or the last safe place before a forest. A handful of printed buildings could become the scenery for a tabletop role-playing game.
You supply the characters, story and rules. Blocks currently provides the building and printing tools; the adventure below is a family activity you can create with them, rather than a built-in quest or RPG editor.
Try this: The Gatekeeper’s Missing Key
Build a small gatehouse with a doorway and a low wall. Leave the roof open if you want to move a figure inside. Before choosing the print scale, measure the toy figure or token you plan to use.
The gatekeeper has lost the key. The forest courier must get through before sunset. Behind the wall, something is making a very small, very angry noise.
One person plays the courier. The other plays the gatekeeper and whatever is behind the wall. The courier can ask for help, investigate the noise or find another way through. Let your child decide where the key really went.
If you want a rule, borrow one ordinary six-sided die: on 4–6, a tricky plan works; on 1–3, add a funny complication and keep going. No character sheet required. That rule is just a suggestion for your table.
The building now matters to the story. A low wall offers a route over it. A window becomes somewhere to pass a message. A cramped room might make you redesign the next version. Your child gets to be the architect and the person who knows what is hiding inside.
A shelf in the game for things that made it out
Once a print is marked completed, it appears in the child’s Drawer. Open it with I to see the build, its dimensions and its thumbnail. On an empty plate, it can be recalled into the world.
I like that continuity: the little house on the table still has a home in the game. It is easy to imagine a collection growing around a family’s stories—an inn, then a bridge, then the tower everyone insists is haunted.
Friends can visit. Parents make the introductions.
Your child can visit another child’s world and build alongside them. It starts with the grown-ups: one parent reaches out to the other through a family invitation, and they arrange the connection through the parent portal. Once the children are connected, their worlds appear in the Friends panel, ready to visit. Parents can connect siblings too.
That gives a shared project room to grow. One child starts the inn; a friend comes over to help with the garden or the next building. The host controls print requests, so a visiting builder cannot send somebody else’s creation to the print queue.
Children’s safety is a guiding priority throughout the design. Parents manage the children’s accounts, arrange who can visit whom, allocate printing allowances and approve models before an adult prepares the print. Those decisions stay with the grown-ups while children get space to create together.
Child-friendly, emoji-only chat is also part of the design: a small, approved palette for greetings and reactions, with no free-text messages in that chat. The Blocks chat interface is still planned and is not yet available in the current game.
Your first evening: one building, one mystery
Give yourselves twenty minutes to start, with printing left for later. Open Blocks, choose Just build, and agree on one tiny place: a gatehouse, a cottage or a shop with an odd customer. Let your child choose its most important detail. You get one addition.
Then ask: “Who lives here, and what has gone wrong today?”
You can start telling that story while the building is still on screen. If you want a physical version, use I am a parent from the opening screen to reach the family portal and set up the child’s account. Printing needs access to a 3D printer and an adult to prepare the job; you can try the building first without either.
Build your first little place. Give it a door. Let your child decide who knocks. Give it a try!
Contact me
Questions, ideas, or spotted a bug? Send me a note.