There are quite a lot of things on my mind recently. Let's talk it out here.
Recently, I feel like everything I have done is wrong. Well, even if everything I am doing is "correct", I would like to believe that it is wrong and I am dysfunctional.
But hear me out on this one: After sheepishly writing about games for a few months, I think writing about games has very little value in comparison to a video showcasing games.
There was one time when I read an article about a game with pure words, no pictures. Based on the way the game was described, I expected a cartoonish anime-style platformer with visual novel dialogue boxes. When I searched for the game, my expectations were broken! The graphic being pixelated is one aspect, the entire presentation and feel was nothing like the way it was described in the article. The detailed and wordy descriptions were utterly useless!
A classic quote is something like “85% of our communication is non-verbal, while only 15% is based on words.” It sounds ridiculous, "I guess I will just nod and send emoticons, then 85% of what I wish to communicate will be reached." Nevertheless, it applies here. The written words barely capture whether a game is good/bad a lot of the time.
In two playtesting sessions I was in, both developers heavily preferred feedback in video form over written form. Video is able to encapsulate how the player is able to interact with the game and think about the game much better than written forms. I tend to critique games for unsatisfying design, bad tutorials, and confusing UIs, but I would imagine that a negative reaction would convey my thoughts much better.
During work, I occasionally listen to speakers talk about games. I think one person said that the creative process is much more about making things rather than writing ideas. I think, if I want to gain an understanding of how to design a game, I have no choice but to make one. I have a decent understanding of how to analyze a game and what makes it fun/unfun. My understanding is still very weak, but it is more necessary to focus on other aspects of game design that I have no knowledge of.
What is the value of written form then? I think one advantage is that writing can convey more information in less time. On average, an adult can read 300 WPM. But in video forms, it is limited to 80 WPM. Gameplay footage can take too long for an average person to digest. Video essays also tend to be much more effortful than writing a blog and posting it online.
Steam reviews, short reviews (one paragraph or less long), are sufficient enough in words. "This game sucks because the X mechanic is bad, also the economy is too pay to win" doesn't need a video to explain its significance, even if people reading it will relate the messages of the words to something else they experienced. Such as reading about P2W practices of Genshin Impact and then relating that to Hearthstone, as a player reading review who only played the latter. It is inaccurate, but good enough to make a decision.
Games are a lot more than their mechanics and I tend to focus on thinking about the mechanics more. I recently tried out a game on the phone called Eternal Senia. It is the infamous genre of clicker game that I have heard of, but first time trying it out. Eternal Senia feels like Pavlov's dogs personified: You tap on your screen to hit enemies like Pinata -> Get Money -> Money upgrade weapon and self -> Your taps become more powerful which allows you to beat stronger enemies that give you more money. This cycle of mindless progression continues.
The game is slightly more complex than that but the gist is that the animation, the general mood/feel, SFX... They all matter. Those aspects of design are able to lift up what is otherwise an "unplayable" game. I think the written format can be quite bad at conveying the significance of these aspects, or perhaps I simply lack the skill sets to describe its significance. The only way to improve I suppose is to try developing a small game myself or do video editing.
Developing a game for who then? I am always fascinated by games, but I always live with a strong sense of nihilism as well. Quite a lot of times, my head says the words of "there really is nothing that I need to do," and it does feel like I do very little in comparison to my... peers? I would like to believe that, but I also happen to be estranged from society so I am not sure about that either. I like to assume that the invisible force of humans are hyper-productive, competent, and righteous at everything they do unlike me.
In the past, since I always lived alone and talked to myself alone, I wanted to develop a game simply for myself to enjoy. As long as I am able to appreciate my own work, then I will be able to find peace in that. I was blind. I still am blind figuratively. But I think I was somewhat wrong in my assumptions. Pragmatically speaking, learning about what others want and what others think will elevate me. Or perhaps, the general coding work, the seeming lack of progress, and the terrible laptops I had from high school until now were what stopped me from being able to make a game.
I read a few pages of a book called "The Design of Everyday Things". Where it talked about how many of the "human errors" in everyday lives, is not the fault of the person being careless, but rather that design is counterintuitive. Perhaps, I should be realistic about my surroundings and how they influence me. Sometimes, I blame myself for all my shortcomings, and I would like to think that those are still true, but this kind of mindset is not the best at moving forward into a healthier and more... productive? Nah, fuck that. Fulfilling life, fulfilling is the better word I suppose.
I still want to develop a game for myself. But, I don't really know myself anymore. Originally, this Zatsudan was going to be about this topic that will help me understand the meaning of play better, inspired by listening to this talk "Who are the players of the video game?"
What I found interesting about this talk is the critique of the assumption of “players”, as Hannah described: “player is both a word that means nothing and everything.” This sentiment feels relatable not only in small community games as well such as werewolv.es and Collective: The community created card game, but also in my short game journalism tenure as well.“I am going to make this look simpler so that the newbies can understand,” “the reader would not understand what you are saying.” Who are the newbies? Who are the readers? What is this “market”?
I have many ideas in my head but I will write about that some other day. I am too behind on real life works.