Thursday, June 2, 2022
Forging Socio-Emotional Connections in Games
Tuesday, February 1, 2022
Flavored by Authenticity: How Personal Experiences Amplify Narrative
Digital storytelling is a currently evolving medium and the push-and-pull nature of player interaction in video games provides an opportunity for the inclusion of personal touchstones in order to more deeply connect with and engage a broad audience. Over the past decade, there has been an increase in the examination of personal narrative elements as methods of engagement in teaching and community building, most notably by contributing a level of accessible authenticity.
This keynote examines how personal narratives inform narrative and character design as a whole in a game or virtual setting, Join us for a look at moments in popular games informed by personal narrative, from the indie to the AAA level, and reflect on steps that might be taken in order to retain authenticity while avoiding the pitfalls that naturally come with the wholesale creation of fantastic and fictional spaces.
Profiled as one of the Game Industry's Top 100 Most Influential Women and a 2020 Women in Games Global Hall of Fame winner, Sande Chen is a writer and game designer with over 15 years of experience in the industry. Her writing credits include 1999 Independent Games Festival winner Terminus and the PC RPG of the Year, The Witcher, for which she was nominated for a 2007 Writers Guild Award in Videogame Writing. She is the co-author of Serious Games: Games That Educate, Train, and Inform and was a contributor to Secrets of the Game Business, Writing For Video Game Genres, and Professional Techniques for Videogame Writing. She has been a speaker at numerous game-related conferences, including the Game Developers Conference, NY Comic Con, PAX East, and SXSW. She has been invited to the White House and represented the USA at the World Conference on Science Literacy. She also has a Grammy nomination.
Matthew Farber
Matthew Farber, Ed.D. is an assistant professor at the University of Northern Colorado, where he founded the Gaming SEL Lab. He has been invited to the White House, authored several books and papers, and is a frequent collaborator with UNESCO and Games for Change. His latest book is Gaming SEL: Games as Transformational to Social and Emotional Learning (bit.ly/GamingSEL). For more, please visit MatthewFarber.com.
Juliana Loh
Juliana Loh is an independent Producer/Artist whose background includes branded entertainment, UX and art direction. In addition to developing educational/gaming experiences, she has honed her artistic skills as a concept and gallery-showing artist while pioneering, empowering and supporting grassroots tech meetups and communities. Currently working as an instructor and immersive artist, she is keenly aware of how emerging technology is changing the way we relate to each other. She is currently designing story-based Pro-Kindness Workshops using VR360 based on user-centered design thinking.
Kimberly Unger
Kimberly made her first videogame back when the 80-column card was the new hot thing and after 20+ years as a pro in that industry, the magic still hasn’t faded. Now she sources leading-edge content for Oculus, lectures on the intersection of art and code for UCSC in Games and Playable Media, wrangles a monthly column on science-fiction in videogames over at Amazing Stories and writes science fiction about how all these app-driven superpowers are going to change the human race. Her debut sci-fi novel, NUCLEATION is available now on Amazon and her next novel The Extractionist will be available in November of 2021. You can find her on Twitter at @Ing3nu or on her blog at www.ungerink.com.
Wednesday, June 9, 2021
Upcoming CIMFest Keynote: Flavored by Authenticity
Hi! If you missed our SXSW panel, you can catch it here on the SXSW 2021 YouTube channel. It's completely different from the LudoNarraCon one even though the topic is the same. There was just so much more to talk about emotional touchstones in emergent narrative!
What game design principles can be used to promote friendlier and harassment-free communities? Join us for a discussion on what strategies game designers can use to create safe virtual spaces that are enjoyable for all players. In particular, we focus on game mechanics that encourage community-oriented behaviors, the pros and cons of automated reporting, and how to minimize griefing.
Keynote Panel: Flavored by Authenticity: How Personal Experiences Amplify Narrative (3 PM Eastern)
Digital storytelling is a currently evolving medium and the push-and-pull nature of player interaction in video games provides an opportunity for the inclusion of personal touchstones in order to more deeply connect with and engage a broad audience. Over the past decade, there has been an increase in the examination of personal narrative elements as methods of engagement in teaching and community building, most notably by contributing a level of accessible authenticity.
Sande ChenThis keynote examines how personal narratives inform narrative and character design as a whole in a game or virtual setting, Join us for a look at moments in popular games informed by personal narrative, from the indie to the AAA level, and reflect on steps that might be taken in order to retain authenticity while avoiding the pitfalls that naturally come with the wholesale creation of fantastic and fictional spaces.
Profiled as one of the Game Industry's Top 100 Most Influential Women and a 2020 Women in Games Global Hall of Fame winner, Sande Chen is a writer and game designer with over 15 years of experience in the industry. Her writing credits include 1999 Independent Games Festival winner Terminus and the PC RPG of the Year, The Witcher, for which she was nominated for a 2007 Writers Guild Award in Videogame Writing. She is the co-author of Serious Games: Games That Educate, Train, and Inform and was a contributor to Secrets of the Game Business, Writing For Video Game Genres, and Professional Techniques for Videogame Writing. She has been a speaker at numerous game-related conferences, including the Game Developers Conference, NY Comic Con, PAX East, and SXSW. She has been invited to the White House and represented the USA at the World Conference on Science Literacy. She also has a Grammy nomination.
Matthew Farber
Matthew Farber, Ed.D. is an assistant professor at the University of Northern Colorado, where he founded the Gaming SEL Lab. He has been invited to the White House, authored several books and papers, and is a frequent collaborator with UNESCO and Games for Change. His latest book is Gaming SEL: Games as Transformational to Social and Emotional Learning (bit.ly/GamingSEL). For more, please visit MatthewFarber.com.
Juliana Loh
Juliana Loh is an independent Producer/Artist whose background includes branded entertainment, UX and art direction. In addition to developing educational/gaming experiences, she has honed her artistic skills as a concept and gallery-showing artist while pioneering, empowering and supporting grassroots tech meetups and communities. Currently working as an instructor and immersive artist, she is keenly aware of how emerging technology is changing the way we relate to each other. She is currently designing story-based Pro-Kindness Workshops using VR360 based on user-centered design thinking.
Kimberly Unger
Kimberly made her first videogame back when the 80-column card was the new hot thing and after 20+ years as a pro in that industry, the magic still hasn’t faded. Now she sources leading-edge content for Oculus, lectures on the intersection of art and code for UCSC in Games and Playable Media, wrangles a monthly column on science-fiction in videogames over at Amazing Stories and writes science fiction about how all these app-driven superpowers are going to change the human race. Her debut sci-fi novel, NUCLEATION is available now on Amazon and her next novel The Extractionist will be available in November of 2021. You can find her on Twitter at @Ing3nu or on her blog at www.ungerink.com.
Thursday, December 26, 2019
Top Ten Most Read Articles of GDAM
1. Great Narrative Stories are the Answer
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Storytelling with Game Consequences
Independent game developer Jason Rohrer, best known for his game, Passage, debuted an open source image selector (available on GitHub) at the 2019 Taipei Game Developers Forum on Thursday, July 11, 2019 to go along with his non-linear, spontaneous presentation about storytelling in games, games as art, and the evolution of his work.
His latest effort, One Hour One Life, is a multiplayer online survival game in which players can spawn either as a helpless baby, a woman, or a man, and as the title implies, one hour corresponds to one lifetime. Cooperation is key to survival.
Rohrer took a roundabout approach in explaining why permadeath was necessary in the design of his game. He wanted the players to feel like their choices had real game consequences and so if players allow babies to die, then there's no Undo or Rewind. There will never be a playthrough where the babies live and the players will never know what would have happened if the babies had lived. Since it's multiplayer, all the players are witnesses to the babies' deaths.
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One Hour, One Life |
Rohrer explained that storytelling engines haven't quite advanced to the point where he didn't feel like the storytelling was forced or fake. They either take the branching narrative approach or AI a la Facade. He's skeptical of AI ever producing great creative works and jokingly asked if we wanted HAL to tell our stories. As for branching narratives, even when there are a multitude of options, he still felt that because the player can replay the choice, the consequences don't feel impactful.
Rohrer acknowledged that he's usually associated with the genre of games known as "art games," or games with artistic purpose. He thinks about what it is that games can uniquely do and how games can tell stories. None of his games are like Choose Your Own Adventures (CYOA). With Cultivation (2005), it was about building a mechanical system that allows the player to make and reflect on choices within that system. With Passage (2007), the game mechanics are metaphorical as if they were lines of a poem. He continued in this mode until he began to feel like this was like a high school English class where students write essays about what something means. No one goes to the movies to look for symbolism, he pointed out.
Now he thinks about creating "unique aesthetic experiences" that can only occur within video games. For instance, Inside a Star-Filled Sky is an infinite, recursive shooter. One can enter a monster and find another world with monsters and enter those monsters and find another world, etc. It creates this feeling of diving in so deep that one forgets what one was doing in the first place.
He mused about whether or not the game industry would ever produce that "Citizen Kane of games" a game so powerfully meaningful it's a transformative experience. He argued that there hasn't even been a game equivalent to the film Titanic, let alone Citizen Kane. He put up a list of games like Shadow of the Colossus, the first Zelda, and Metal Gear Solid II and said that even these amazing games paled as culturally relevant experiences when compared to masterpieces like the novel, Lolita.
Whether or not games are culturally relevant has been a subject of debate for more than a decade. A watershed moment occurred in 2009 when industry watchers proclaimed with great fanfare that the video game industry had surpassed film because Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (CoD: MW2) had earned over a billion dollars. Yet, as Rohrer showed in a graph, CoD: MW2 only sold around 20 million units whereas the film Avatar sold 360 million, Titanic sold 400 million, and the classic Gone With the Wind moved a billion units. Therefore, the average man on the street probably knows Gone With the Wind or Titanic or Avatar, but what about CoD: MW2? Even if that average Joe were to go play CoD: MW2, Rohrer argued, that person would not say, "OMG this experience has enriched my life! I'm in tears because CoD: MW2 has so deeply changed my life forever."
Rohrer acknowledged that there was a skill barrier to beating and winning at video games. Perhaps, he said, this barrier is so great that video games will never be as accessible as movies, books, and other mainstream media and therefore, cannot achieve cultural relevancy. Another issue is that as technology marches on, classic games are no longer available, since the hardware becomes obsolete. This didn't occur with other media. Analog TVs still work with converters. CDs from 1983 still work, but a game like Quake was originally designed for specific hardware and emulators don't always capture that original experience. Rohrer had no doubt that engineers could make gaming systems backwards compatible if it were an industry expectation.
For about 15 years, Rohrer has been creating games that are insightful and innovative. Mainstream media press have found his work to be deeply moving and complex, even tear-inducing. Despite his intellectual ponderings on whether or not video games can be considered masterpieces of art, others have already decided that Rohrer's work fits that description. In 2016, he became the first video game creator to have a solo retrospective in an art museum.
[Jason Rohrer's recorded session will be available on IGDA Taiwan's YouTube channel soon.]
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 15 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.,
Monday, August 6, 2018
Forced Failure as Story Moments
In "The Strengths and Limits of Using Digital Games as 'Empathy Machines,'" a UNESCO working paper released last year, authors Professors Matthew Farber and Karen Schrier discuss the flawed design of the poverty simulator SPENT and offer as a counterpoint, the autobiographical game That Dragon Cancer, as an example of where forced failure may be acceptable to players. As in most cases, the forced failure baked into SPENT and That Dragon Cancer are intended to generate and reinforce feelings of hopelessness and frustration.
These story moments of despair are not uncommon, especially if a storyteller blindly follows the stages of the Hero's Journey in games. At the midpoint, the hero reaches the Ordeal, the deepest, darkest, lowest point of the journey, the trials of which drives the hero to ultimately succeed in glorious fashion. Sometimes, this low point is conducted off-screen or in a cut scene, but other times, the player is given illusory agency in a mission destined to fail.
These forced failure story moments have left players with sheer frustration and anger, especially when the player wants to win and not fail. In one anecdote, a player tried repeatedly for hundreds of times to save his NPC buddy from predestined death, only to end up shooting the NPC immediately in realization that the NPC could not be saved.
Unlike in SPENT, it's clear that the story is paramount in That Dragon Cancer and that the goal is not to win through points. When the player can't calm the child down no matter what is done, this is a story moment that is very emotional. In this game, the player tacitly agrees to go along with the emotional journey.
Sometimes, when a story is engaging enough, a player will forgive a lot (e.g. bad controls, bad art, bad gameplay). The player wants to know what will happen next in the story. I cynically remarked about the game Missing that without forced failure, the player would not know the story of what happens to sex trafficked girls.
For me, I find Missing to be a better example of how players can blithely ignore forced failure in deference to the story. In Missing, there are clear dialog choices and actions that lead the player to an escape opportunity. Maybe it's possible that the protagonist can escape and end the game out of harm's way. If so, please send me a screenshot! In my gut, I feel like this is most likely a situation where no matter how many times I evade the thugs, steal keys, or hide, that last guard at the last door will always grab me (if another guard hasn't already).
Sure, I will feel like I have agency and that escaping the bad guys is within my grasp, but do I really?
Was this dramatic moment manufactured? I mean, I was this close to freedom.
The fact that I fail highlights the hopelessness of protagonist Ruby's plight. I can't help her escape. I recognize that this is an important plot point in her story. Perhaps I would play the escape level over and over or perhaps I would accept that this is how the story goes. If I understand that the game is about depicting the tragedy of sex trafficking, then I'll have to see it through to find out what happens next.
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Friday, March 31, 2017
VR: the Ultimate Empathy Machine?
Virtual reality has been hailed the "ultimate empathy machine." Teachers and researchers certainly believe that the immersive VR experiences will make players empathize with the plight of others, such as that of refugees, the disabled, or other disadvantaged groups. However, as Yale Professor of Psychology Paul Bloom cautions in "It's Ridiculous to Use Virtual Reality to Empathize with Refugees," the type of empathy VR generates in players may be misleading. For one, he points out, while VR may be good at simulating environments, it doesn't replicate the psychological forces of powerlessness, despair, and oppression. A player can step out at any time and doesn't have to face a reality where the country has been torn apart by war and none of the player's relatives have made it out alive.

In fact, the player can have a level of comfort in knowing that the unpleasant situation is short-lived. Journalists who volunteered to be waterboarded reported that the experience was unpleasant, but their experience was not accompanied by imprisonment and torturers who won't stop when asked. Other times, short-term experiences give a flawed impression to players. As Dr. Arielle Michal Silverman related in "The Perils of Playing Blind: Problems with Blindness Simulation and A Better Way to Teach About Blindness," players wrongly projected their own negative feelings of suddenly becoming blind to the daily experience of living with blindness.
Of course, there have been simulations without VR or even digital applications. There have been games about blindness, such as Blindside, and games to simulate what it's like to have schizophrenia or depression. It's natural to be excited about the next big thing and the level of immersion that VR gives could lead to amazing educational experiences. VR can certainly help in depicting different countries and scenarios, but will it translate into social impact? Research is ongoing.
Thursday, February 9, 2017
Emotion, Reverse Engineered
What does 'storytelling' mean to you?
It's curious to parse the exact meaning of words, but as we know from comparing the game industry to the tech sector, even job titles don't exactly mean the same from one company to the next.
I noticed a similar disconnect when I attended a storytelling event last year. The first speaker was a game design professor who spoke eloquently about storytelling in games while the second speaker, a marketer, spoke about storytelling in a very different way. A marketer is more interested in how the audience connects with a brand and it's the brand story that needs to be repeated. But, both game designers and marketers recognize that storytelling has the power to connect with an audience through emotional means.
I think most writers strive to connect emotionally on a universal level. By that, I mean even if the nitty gritty details are about life in a slum, people can still recognize a story about perseverance, about rising above poverty and succeeding. Marketers, though, tend to craft a message or story based on the preferences of the target audience. A marketer asks, "What already resonates with my audience?" rather than trying to elicit emotion anew. Then, the marketer provides the story that fits the target audience.
For example, AI software can analyze social media texts to determine personality traits like "adventuresome," "achievement striving," and "openness to change." If the brand's story is about "achievement striving," then targeting the "achievement striving" results in 30% more engagement and sentiment. If the target audience now associates the brand to an "achievement striving" lifestyle, that's a success.
By writing this piece, I don't mean to suggest that we should all start writing to the audience. After all, creative work can have different audience interpretations. I just think it's interesting to note how a related field tackles the issue of how to create emotional connection in storytelling.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
How Games Can Elicit Emotional Stakes
I recently read a post written by Sande Chen that discusses how the nature of videogame playing undermines the emotional stakes in linear storytelling. Referring mainly to AAA linear narratives found in 8-12 hour campaigns, she outlined some of the difficult challenges facing game designers and writers to compel the player to feel more emotionally attached to the character in the game than to their own experience as the player. Of course we as players want to achieve victory but designers and writers strive to deliver the emotional impact often found in Hollywood blockbusters.
Sande raised many excellent points that got me thinking about the problem myself. A large part of the issue is the linear railroading of a story, more specifically a game’s inability to allow failure. When a player fails and restarts at their last checkpoint, suddenly there is a disconnect where the protagonist character in the game is fine, as if nothing ever happened, but the player has taken a hit and suffered a setback. In a difficult part of the game, where the player has to try numerous times to get through a zone but story-wise the hero is essentially unscathed, there’s a dissonance between the player’s experience and the character’s experience, not to mention the player is going to care more about his/her own experience as the frustration builds than the player cares about the experience of the character.
One game that I thought worked somewhat was the first Tomb Raider reboot. Some of the death scene animations were so gnarly and gruesome that I wanted to do well and avoid those because I felt so bad seeing Lara writhe in pain as a river impales her on a metal pole! Even though I as the player then started over at the last checkpoint and Lara is safely in one piece, the memory of her violent death was still fresh in my mind.
At this point, it is easy to simply say, “Make a game that allows for failure.” But this presents the age-old problem of making a branching game that can turn a different direction for failure, which is suddenly no longer a linear story and also two to three times more expensive to make. As a writer myself, I understand the strong allure of a linear story that I can control as the creator. It allows for more specific nuance and depth in the story. Maybe the real challenge is finding a way to tell a linear story that can also accept failure in some way without resetting. I’m sure there are some elegant solutions out there, both mechanically and story-wise, that have yet to be discovered.
Another partial solution, or at least a step in the right direction, is creating strong characters. Especially a dynamic villain. I have noticed that a truly despicable villain helps a player invest emotionally in the story. Games like Far Cry 4, Bioshock Infinite, and Borderlands 2 (to name a few) have great antagonists, which helped me empathize with the heroes more. Even if there were times where I was jostled from the character’s POV emotionally, I still shared their emotional drive to defeat the vile bad guy. Fleshing out the villain’s character can present its own challenges. Villain scenes work best when they’re from the POV of the hero so the player shares the experience with the hero character. Be careful to not give the player insight into the villain or conflict that the protagonist does not have, or suddenly there is another disconnect.
A challenge most action games face is desensitization to violence, which can hamper any story based on violence and death. As Sande questioned, how can a player feel any emotional pull during a cut scene of someone’s death when the player just spent hours ending hundreds of other lives? Certainly something to consider when creating a story amidst a sea of blood, but I would again point to the creation of strong characters. Just like in war movies or books where there is death around every corner, it is critical to create those characters that players care about, and give them clear-cut goals they want and challenging conflicts in their way. There are characters that, even if they are soaked in blood, you don’t want them to die. (You Game of Thrones fans know what I’m talking about.)
What no one has tried yet (that I know of) is a complete paradigm shift. The way games are made is still heavily influenced by the history of video games. The player is faced with a challenge and they must overcome it or fail and try again. As the industry matured, designers put more story into the game, fleshing out fully-imagined world and characters, with an eye to Hollywood cinematic cut scenes and structure. But they still shoehorn the story into the same game mentality of trial and error. It’s like if in the middle of a showdown fight scene in a movie, someone stopped it and skipped back to the beginning of the chapter. We’ve all had that experience when someone accidentally sits on the remote. It jars you and the fight scene loses so much of its power and momentum.
Game designers are often focused on creating the ultimate challenge above creating an amazing story. The way most game designers define a good gaming experience is much different than the way a Hollywood director would define a good experience.
But what if they designed a game without the ability to restart at a checkpoint or die at all? What if fight scenes were built in a way that the player could take a beating, maybe lose some gear or status or something but never actually die? I know many gamers are rolling their eyes at the idea because many of us are so programmed that that is how games work. I have a confession: I’m one of those gamers that plays story-centric games on normal difficulty. I sacrifice the challenge aspect to preserve the flow of the story and the oh-so-fragile emotional empathy. Unfortunately, games are not built to reward that style of play, so yes, I run into times feeling where the game is too easy (though sometimes I get crazy and bump the difficulty up for awhile until I feel a miniboss fight coming). The trade-off is worth it to me to engage the story more than the challenge and triumph element.
Games will only ever reach a certain level of emotional investment with the current model. Maybe it just needs a small shift to, say, a story with a hero that reincarnates from set points in his life so that the ‘restarting after death’ plays into the story. The hero can even have little meta-esque quips about having to experience the same crap all over again. Or maybe it it will take a completely new approach, a full dedication to story over challenge.
All I do know is that Sande is correct. There is a strong disconnect between players wanting to beat the final boss for the sake of the protagonist and the story, or for their own mastery of the controls over the cleverness of the programmed obstacle. The points I mentioned in the beginning are ways to help align those two goals better, but they will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to fully overlap as long as game makers continue to think of story as merely a way to get players to move from Challenge A to Challenge B. No, not everyone needs to change. But I wouldn’t mind seeing someone try it out.
Original Article: http://gamedesignaspect.blogspot.com/2016/10/how-games-undermineemotional-stakes.html
Joshua Castleman is a sci-fi/fantasy writer, voracious reader, and gamer. He is currently working on a D&D-inspired deck-building adventure game with Vigilant Addiction Studios.
Friday, October 14, 2016
How Games Undermine Emotional Stakes
For the last week, I've been pondering a provocative question posed by another game writer about the mediocrity of linear storytelling in games, specifically the 8 to 12 hours of story mode in a console game. For a long time, I've been of the opinion that these types of stories are usually mimicking the Hollywood blockbuster and the Hollywood model of screenwriting, a system that doesn't always work with the needs of a game. I also realize that this other game writer is only talking about experiences within these types of specific games and not about 60-100 hour games, episodic games, or MMOs. We're not doomed to mediocrity for all eternity especially when we think about the ways games do build emotional connections. However, I agree that there are certain challenges in creating linear experiences within interactive games and trying to hold on to the emotional beats that would normally be generated by watching a great movie.
There can be incredible gameplay with a mediocre story. There can be gorgeous art in video games with a mediocre story. Is story the weak excuse to transport the player from point A to point B, to get from one level to the next, or to string together a bunch of activities? Is this kind of story character-driven or plot-oriented? Sure, in screenplays, character development is the basis of all the decision points in the story, but in game development, character development can be one of the last items on the checklist. The player can enjoy a great game but be completely detached from the story.
That's simply because in the do-or-die situations of gameplay, the immediacy of that kind of urgency affects the player more than the urgency of the created story. Does the player want to avoid a reset or does the player feel the urgency to save the universe? Moreover, if you think about all the things that a player has to do or keep track of in a twitchy action game, how important ranks the game story? Much as we would like to multi-task to success, our brains have to prioritize. Players may simply be too emotionally distracted to think about the game's authorial story especially when their own emergent stories are much more exciting.
Another concern is the desensitization to violence that comes from killing millions and millions of virtual foes. In a screenplay, acts of violence generally have great significance and may punctuate an inciting incident, a midpoint, or climax. Can a cut scene in a linear video game deliver the same kind of emotional punch in an act of violence when the last 4 hours have been pretty much the same fare?
We know that games can elicit emotions, but these are not necessarily the same emotions that are elicited by watching movies. I'm sure there are people who have tried over and over to beat a boss after repeatedly failing. Nobody wants to see a required cut scene or hear the villainous taunts of the boss as we anxiously wait to try again, no matter how wonderfully cinematic that cut scene is. The focus and resolve in this boss fight will not be about the game story or the player-character, but about manipulating the controller better or another gameplay aspect. The emotion generated by the ultimate triumph in beating the boss is about the player, not the character.
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Building Emotional Connections with Game Design
At NYU's Lecture Series on April 7, 2016, Katherine Isbister, Professor of Computational Media at UC Santa Cruz, explained how game designers are already building emotional connections in their games. This issue of emotive game design has been of concern to narrative designers, especially in regards to the Heroine's Journey, but Isbister is more concerned with how game design affects emotions rather than how story affects emotions. She feels it's an oversimplification to simply state that it's stories that provide the only emotional impact in games.
1. Emotional Connections with Non-Player Characters
The "moment to moment intimacy," as Isbister says, that is created through NPC design is extremely powerful. This is not necessarily about storylines, as I pointed out in "For the Love of a Dog," my blog post about the connection between players and NPC dogs, but about player interactions with NPCs. While certainly plot and dialogue can play a great role, as in Isbister's example regarding Japanese dating simulations, it is not necessary. Players remember the pain and loss of destroying a Companion Cube in Portal. This notion of losing a beloved NPC, as in Aeris' death in Final Fantasy VII, is practically a trope. Beyond attachment, players can feel responsibility for a NPC's welfare, as with Yorda in the game Ico.
2. Emotional Connections with Avatars (Self)
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Journey |
How about the emotional connections with other players? Sure, there's clans and guilds where there's ample communication, but how about situations where there's cooperation needed but little communication? According to Isbister, games provide the opportunity to create "socially meaningful situations." Unlike the silent and superficial social interaction of visiting each other's farms in FarmVille, the game Journey produces a strong emotional bond between strangers who happen upon each other while progressing through the game. Obviously, as I stated in "Leading by Emotion," this type of situation was likely socially engineered by the designer as part of the early design.
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Friday, November 27, 2015
For the Love of a Dog
Last year, I heard the incredible story of Arthur, a stray dog who followed an adventure racing team on a grueling 430 mile trek through the Amazon jungle just because one of the team members, Mikael Lindnord, gave him a meatball. Organizers warned that the team that the endurance race, which included slogging through knee-high mud, was too dangerous for the dog. Despite best efforts to send him away, Arthur steadfastly followed and the team resorted to pulling the dog out of the mud to help him along. At the last leg of the journey, the team left Arthur on shore while they set off kayaking, but he jumped into the water. Heartbroken, Lindnord pulled the dog onto the kayak. They crossed the finishing line with Arthur.
The video pretty much sums it up:
This emotional story resonated with people around the world. Even though the dog may have caused the team delays and additional headaches, Arthur was welcomed as a fifth member of the team. It reminded me of a situation in The Witcher when a dog can start following the player-character, Geralt. There is no benefit to keeping the dog safe and yet, players went out of their way to save the dog. Some even decided to mod the game so that the "nosy dog" won't get killed off in the swamp.
This narrative designed situation created emotional ties and memories. One player wrote:
"One of the saddest incidents I have ever had in the game was when the "Nosy Dog" got in the way while Geralt was whacking drowners. It went hostile, but didn't attack; Geralt had to kill it, and it wouldn't even defend itself. Only time I ever reloaded this game over a "friendly fire" incident."Another dog-related quest that caused heartache was in collecting dog tallow. The stray dogs whine piteously and die horribly. Some players went out of their way to kill wolves instead of stray dogs, raid pantries for dog tallow, or locate dead dogs to avoid killing stray dogs. While players may not have a problem with slaying evil human beings, some players viewed the dogs as defenseless innocents who did not deserve to be killed for dog tallow.
It's known that when we put our players in the position of caretakers, be it with a dog or a helpless child, this is a way to tug at the heartstrings. What's interesting about The Witcher as opposed to other games is that there's no statement either way about allowing the dog to die or not. If the player feels guilt, sympathy, or love for the dog, the player can act upon that and the player's actions are purely up to the player. Likewise, with the dogcatcher quest, it's up to the player to decide between killing or not killing stray dogs. It's great that there were alternate ways provided to complete the quest.
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Leading by Emotion
One particular way of teaching creative writing is to ask students to explore the essence of emotion and thus, I attended a Meditation and Writing Retreat last December to reach back into my memory and recall the sensations associated with the emotion at the time. How did this emotion manifest in the body? Did it cause dry mouth, sniffling, a tightness in the chest, or blank eyes? Writing about emotion was an instant connection to my creative fury.
While emotions are an accepted starting point for creative writing, I realize emotions aren't the genesis for most games. A tech demo is an accepted starting point. In fact, most genres of games are defined by gameplay rather than the feelings elicited by the game. The only exception might be horror games, which follow traditional genre fiction categorization. It's for this very reason that I organized a panel to explore the nature of horror games. (Stay tuned for more info!)
But what if emotions played a more important role in game creation? After all, according to American author James Gunn, people look to fiction to engage in an emotional experience. Why shouldn't it be the same for games? And I'm not strictly talking about "making the player cry," but simply about connecting on an emotional level. As game designer Reid Kimball says in Breaking the Vicious Cycle, let's inspire players and go beyond grinding.
For many people, Jenova Chen's games are inspirational. In preparation for my article, Towards More Meaningful Games: A Multidisciplinary Approach, I talked to Jenova Chen about preproduction. He showed me this Emotional Intensity Graph he made during the conception phase. What's interesting is that this isn't a map of a character's emotions, but of the player's intended emotions.
Filmmakers and authors need to carefully craft an audience's emotional expectations. I assume that game designers should do the same. Should we expect anything less?
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Chasing the Heroine's Journey in Games
A few months ago, I was fortunate to go to a lecture given by script consultant Dara Marks, author of Inside Story.
Marks' framework for the Heroine's Journey has a Call of Action, Midpoint, and Final Pursuit, just like the Hero's Journey. It's definitely not just adding a love subplot into the midst of the story. The Heroine is propelled into action after suffering a deep, emotional wound and is only redeemed through her courage and the help of others, resulting in a new perspective on love and self-acceptance.
It struck me that in the realm of video games, our blockbusters are mostly masculine stories. It may be because of the medium. We need to externalize our inner demons -- show not tell -- and can't afford an extended monologue. Or if there is a monologue, like in The Darkness, which could be a technique to telling the internal story, at least make it interesting. There are diaries, but truly, do people really leave their diaries scattered about? Perhaps we simply need to get better at showing the entire story: external and internal.
For other games, it simply doesn't matter because the player-character is a blank slate to be filled in by the player. Appearance, actions, thoughts, back stories: all controlled by the player. That's a different type of game, so let's stick to the games where the player has a pre-assigned role.
Here is another issue: the blurry line between player and player-character.
I absolutely detest in an action game when a player-character declares that I, the player, had an epiphany about some story element, especially when I haven't felt any change in my feelings or thinking. I don't suddenly care about something just because the character I'm controlling tells me I should care. Some writers make a distinction between player and player-character. The player-character has its own life and therefore, is free to go about having epiphanies and actions that run counter to the player's desires.
However, the identification between avatar and player is so strong that hardly anyone says "Samus did this; Samus did that" but "I beat the boss; I got to the last level." It doesn't matter that the character isn't a blank slate. I've been struggling through all these levels and doing all the work while controlling this player-character, so, yes, I got a little... attached. When something doesn't jive between player-character and player, it feels disconcerting and jarring. Perhaps that's why some players chose not to play the ending of Prince of Persia rather than go through the player-character's mission to destroy all the lands.
There are probably better ways at conveying emotional truths than straight out telling the audience (or leaving written evidence). Screenwriters handle this all the time, but in a video game, we can't have too many cut scenes (or it would be a film!). Slower, less action-packed games that explore character growth could succeed, as well. I wonder, since we are adept at those masculine, action-packed games, can we find the feminine there too?
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Get the Message
In a TV advertisement, you've got about 30 seconds to sell your product, tell your story, and connect with the inner desires of your target audience in an emotional way. This means that every shot and every aspect to this ad spot is valuable. Yes, it's a pitch. You need to give the reasons why someone might care about your product and do it quickly.
For a PSA, or public service announcement, it's the same deal but hopefully, your message is more profound than "Mentos make you super attractive." It's very important to get your message across and I think a simple, understandable message is best, such as "Smoking kills." Certainly, the PSA can convey more in terms of what other bad things may happen if one smokes, but the main message of "Smoking kills" should be reinforced over and over, should you choose to go this direction.
Here's an example of a PSA that does have an effective message:
Although the primary message here appears to be "Seat belts save lives," the PSA also connects on a very emotional level about familial love with the suggestion that using a seat belt is a small act one can do for the love of one's family. The tagline, "Embrace Life," reinforces this idea.
In serious games, many game designers choose not to give a heavy-handed message. It may be a simple message like, "War is hell," while not indicting either side of the conflict. The purpose is to get the player thinking about hard issues or to explore a controversial topic. But for a PSA-type game, the message IS important. If I were designing a game to bring awareness about the importance of seat belts, then I do want the players to end up getting the "Seat belts save lives" message.
Are games an effective medium for this purpose? I think it's possible for us to design games that do make an impact on players' lives in such a manner and furthermore, I believe that to do so effectively, we'll have to reach the players on an emotional level.
Sande Chen is a writer and game designer whose work has spanned 10 years in the industry. Her credits include 1999 IGF winner Terminus, 2007 PC RPG of the Year The Witcher, and Wizard 101. She is one of the founding members of the IGDA Game Design SIG.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
On Emotive Games: Q&A with IGF Finalist Daniel Benmergui
How do you make emotive games?
I never set myself the goal of making emotive games. It just happened that both I Wish I Were the Moon and Today I Die where born out of intense emotional impressions.
Something I discovered with those games is that you can build important experiences that involve audiovisuals, text and (weak, to be honest) gameplay, without "telling stories". There are very few of these "game poems", which is shame, because there might be a huge audience for them out there.
Do games have the necessary vernacular to tell powerful stories?
I think Jonathan Blow is right when he said that games are never going to catch up with cinema in telling stories like movies do. Any kind of interaction breaks storytelling horribly, despite the enormous efforts of designers to overcome it.
However, I believe there is a different kind of narrative which is based purely on gameplay. That kind of narrative is very unexplored and we mostly stumble in the dark when trying to "author" that narrative that is constructed between players and gameplay.
For example, take games like Braid: a kind of magic happens, where you being to understand and talk with the game in terms of gameplay, like learning a new language. You watch the game objects, with their sprites and animations, but what you really see is how the puzzle works as a whole, and all the possibilities of stuff you can try with the tools at your disposal.
Is there something important in that conversation, in the way a movie can be important? Or you are just learning to navigate a screwed up universe and have learnt nothing that matters?
Those are important questions, but to figure them out, we have to keep learning the true language of games... we can't expect to write good poetry in a language we scarcely understand!
What kinds of emotions can games generate in players?
Most games I've played involve either a high degree of abstraction (puzzle games) or a high degree of adrenaline. It's difficult to explore a vast range of emotions when you are pumped up or using logic brain functions.
But I think the appropriate question is "What can this game make me discover about the universe and myself?" Answering that question would involve a lot of emotions... both in the player and the game maker.
Is it even important for games to make players cry?
There are plenty of games that made a lot of people cry. Most Hollywood movies do that easily, given the proper audience.
But I would prefer games to shock people to the very core, which is something I know books and movies can do. Then there will be crying.
Experimental videogame maker Daniel Benmergui is the creator of Today I Die, an emotive game that brought him a nomination in the 12th Annual Independent Games Festival. `He can be reached at his blog Ludomancy.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Creating Emotions Through Play-Character (Part II)
Most often, video games invoke the spirit of exploration during the time between World War 1 and World War 2. We, as people, think back on a world much larger than it is now. What is out there? As Uncharted 2 begins,
"I never told the half of what I saw ...." - Marco PoloA world that is filled with mystery taps into the fantastic hindsight we have now through historical documents. Marco Polo headed into a world that none of us could have ever imagined. What would it be like to head into a culture so unlike anything we had never seen? What would it have been like to walk into a place untouched by Roman influence?
Another thing game designers tap into, something that invokes an emotion we can’t describe, is war.
“War, War never changes.” - Fallout 3War never changes. The atrocities of war are well known to anyone who has ever opened a book about World War 2, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Russo-Japanese War, or any war that has ever been fought. Most of the younger generations in the United States or Europe will never know the horror that war brings. The globalization of world industry means that, as Metal Gear teaches us, wars will be fought between nations through a poor nation. Russia and America will fight through Afghanistan, China and America will fight through Korea, etc etc. The citizens of the “Core” countries will most likely fight less and less as the years progress. However, the idea of war is still omnipresent thanks to things like the media, movies, video games, and all sorts of museums. To participate in a war captures an emotional curiosity that reaches almost all of the target audience of video games. We all grew up with parents or grandparents who were a bit “off” due to war. Why, what, and how they became this way is something of a subconscious curiosity. Purchasing a war game allows us to tap into this curiosity, this want-to-know.
However, these things barely tap the play-character. Where the play-character shines in video games is that of environment. For this case, we turn toward Grand Theft Auto.
Grand Theft Auto: Vice City did something so few games, or movies for that matter, have done since the 80s ended: It captured the very essence of vice in the 1980s. Maybe it was the voice acting, maybe it was the music, maybe it was the drug culture, but this game had soul. Playing Vice City meant turning on a time capsule. It invoked emotion simply because of the amount of environmental ooze it managed to move. Since Vice City, each Grand Theft Auto has tried to capture a certain time period. San Andreas captured the atmosphere of the race riots in the 90s. Grand Theft Auto IV managed to capture the essence of resolving the gap between culturally favored goals and current available means to attain those goals (anomie): we usually call this deviance or innovation.
Invoking emotion, invoking the play-character is a risky way to bring emotional investment by your players. However, the mode through which a game designer can capture this is not replicable as that of a single event. Still and all, going too far or not enough and players will punish you by not purchasing your game.
Nick LaLone is a graduate student working on an MA at Texas State University-San Marcos. When the video games are turned off, Nick can be found writing about modernization theory, gender, and social media. His work on these subjects with regard to video (and board) games can be found at www.beforegamedesign.com.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Creating Emotions Through Play-Character (Part I)
Video games most often use single person events to create emotion. Some examples here are Death of Aerith in Final Fantasy 7, Permanent Death in Steel Battalion, Modern Warfare 1's Nuke Sequence and subsequent single person death. However, a successful event in profit-driven capitalist societies means that you get one shot at it. After that shot, the reproduction of that event becomes nearly ubiquitous. The death of the pure romantic interest, huge dramatic loss of innocent lives, and other circumstances all become part and parcel of the video game, while many of these reuses add something or take it away (Nuke sequence replaced with killing civilians, etc).
In short, all successful events quickly become rationalized, predictable, and a safe way to generate revenue. Invoking emotion becomes procedure. Now, why do things become procedure? First, like all fields of competition, companies have to do what others do in order to even out the playing field. Second, It requires enormous amounts of research to find a new way to generate emotion in a way that will make players want to buy your game.
However, there is another mode of eliciting emotion that many people do not cater to. We will call this mode by a term familiar to most ludologists: "play-character". The idea of the play-character comes from the book Homo Ludens
It is through this playing that society expresses its interpretation of life and the world. (47)What he means here is that the way we play is the way society interprets the world. To play is to tap into the play-character, to play is to interpret life.
Huizinga continues saying that as culture continues, “the original relationship between play and non-play does not remain static” (47). Essentially, the play-character, culture’s interpretation of “life and the world” is constantly in motion. In monetary terms, tapping into this is to reach an abstract portion of society that has moved on; to find a way to make money on the past. For, while the play-character ebbs and flows, this play-character is only viewable after it has long since regressed or changed. We typically call this the spirit of the age and tend to block it off in decade form.
Creating Emotions Through Play-Character (Part II)
Nick LaLone is a graduate student working on an MA at Texas State University-San Marcos. When the video games are turned off, Nick can be found writing about modernization theory, gender, and social media. His work on these subjects with regard to video (and board) games can be found at www.beforegamedesign.com.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Touching Players Emotionally
Train changes the rules of gameplay, eliciting an emotional response while causing players to try to change the design of the game while playing it. It makes them uncomfortable, sad, and unwilling to win.
When discussing emotive games, it's important to define the emotion one wishes the player to feel and when we want them to feel that. Certainly, we've all played games that cause us to feel something. A game becomes interactive and "fun" when it elicits a positive response such as laughter, satisfaction, or awe. Consider the last time you caused a huge explosion in a game or laughed at a bit of dialogue. Game designers put in elements to bring forth certain responses on purpose. Most players were touched by Aerith's death in Final Fantasy VII. Insomniac uses amusing quips to obtain giggles and smiles in the Ratchet & Clank series. I found the beggers in Assassin's Creed to be very annoying, while hitting them became very satisfying. Meanwhile, Assassin's Creed touched on my fear of heights and, along with inFAMOUS, created a small fear of water, at least during gameplay. Some games create an unintended emotional response such as anger, annoyance, and frustration. Therefore, for the purpose of this article, it's important to define emotive games as those that involve a player’s emotions, in an intended way, even when they are no longer playing.
To elicit an emotional response, the game must first be immersive. Creating an immersive game is a huge subject by itself but, if elements of the game are jarring players out of the experience, the required interaction cannot be achieved. The player will not suspend disbelief long enough to be affected by the game without being immersed in the environment and story. It must touch them on a personal level and stick with them after play is through.
Immersion is but a small part of the challenge, however. In an age of internet guides and forums, it's difficult to surprise players or sneak up on them. Players don't need to choose whether or not to save the Little Sisters before consulting the internet or guide to see the outcome of the decision. Players hear about the treasure chest that voids the Ultimate Weapon before the game is even in their hand. It would seem that touching a player emotionally then resides in the story, but, it's almost too difficult to avoid word-of-mouth.
One option is to take away player choice. Modern Warfare 2's airport scene is appalling and disturbing. Players walk through a busy airport, mowing down innocent, unarmed people. They can't run or rush the scene. They don't choose the scene, it is given to them and they must get through it. It haunts you long after playing. This uncomfortable scene is a powerful example of what I'd hope to achieve in an emotional response. It doesn't allow player choice, while touching the player's emotions in an intended way once they are no longer playing. It's only one scene, however. Re-creating this response several times in a game would numb the player, dimming the response. This is a fine example of emotive play, but not an emotive game.
The next option involves creating ethical dilemmas in games. While I found Bioshock to be one of the most immersive games I've ever played, choosing whether or not to save the Little Sisters was not really an ethical dilemma. It didn't change the game significantly and it actually becomes a strategy for some. If you save them, you get the better ending. If you harvest them, you get more weapons upgrades and more trophies. Instead of being ethical, it simply becomes a matter of what's important to the player. Likewise, in inFAMOUS, being good or evil fails to significantly affect play or ending. It, more or less, changes the visuals of the game. Fable II, however, creates decision-making that does affect the game without the player being completely aware of the changes they are making. To get an emotional response from this device, then, the designer must design ethical dilemmas into the game that actually affect the gameplay and story. The problem with this lies in the previously-mentioned word-of-mouth. If we create decisions, how do we keep the player from looking up the outcome prior to making the decision? And, how do we keep the player from changing that decision when they get an unexpected response?
We could make it a timed decision, but word-of-mouth means they'll know about the choice before they get to it. We could take away decision, but, we've already shown that, while this creates the intended response in the short-term, it will ultimately fail to keep the player immersed in the experience. We could make games that involve an ethical decision which is merely the lesser of two evils. Again, though, the guides and forums rear their ugly heads allowing players to make an informed decision. Complicated, branching story lines involving many decisions would seem the only, albeit expensive, option, then. In this way, player choices would lead to other choices making them unsure of the ultimate outcome.
In the final analysis, the answer would seem to lie in creating a game that offers small ethical dilemmas. The player should be making decisions with little thought to the outcome. The decisions should seem so insignificant that they are invisible to the player, making them unaware of how they are affecting the game. And yet, the decisions should be significant enough to affect the player in a small way even when making them. Saves must be automatic and seamless so that the player cannot undo a choice. The game should be immersive and the outcome of the story should shock or surprise the player in some way so that they become aware, in the end, that their choices caused that outcome. The designer retains control of the intended emotional response and outcome while giving the player the illusion of control and decision-making. In this way, not only will they be touched by the story and the game, but they will continue to consider the choices they made long after they have finished playing.
Brenda Brathwaite created a game with all of these elements in Train. Players make choices based on the rules of the game without being fully aware of the outcome of those choices. When they suddenly become aware, the game itself becomes an ethical dilemma that touches players long after they have stopped playing.
Shelly Warmuth is a freelance game writer and designer. Her games, Dance Class and Coach's Corner, won top honors in HG4H's InsertCoin. She looks forward to the release of these great games on Project Natal in the near future.