For my final blog, I thought it would be interesting to discuss those behind the games so many people around the world play and identity with daily: the developers. Often times, things including graphics, world building and gameplay are praised when it comes to talking about the games of today. This is deservedly so, of course, but the behind the scenes aspects are just as important as the final product. Unfortunately, I’ve found it to be the case that a lot of people know little or nothing at all about the companies behind the games they’re interested in—this includes the individuals who make up the multiple dev teams throughout the industry. These dev teams include those who perform the key, integral tasks behind creating interactive media:  directors, designers, writers and so forth. Even with this being true, there tend to be too many whose knowledge of these people and their important positions exists only in brief flashes during credit sequences (if they watch those.) While this happens with other forms of media as well (ie tv shows), I think it’s important to talk about because the issue is much more prominent within the gaming community than it is in those which surround non-interactive films—one of the most popular and broadly discussed forms of media there is in today’s world. This varies depending on the nature of the project—whether something is a big budgeted production or a mostly under the radar indie definitely makes a difference. It makes a difference in everything from games to books to movies to tv shows.

Even still, it is difficult to talk about a film without talking about its director, others involved in making it what it is and its working environment. This isn’t to say that those behind films should be talked about less, because they deserve the recognition for their work as well as the level of investment given to the work itself. It is to say, however, that the gaming community is a little bit behind in terms of discussing those who produce the games in addition to the titles themselves. To include the developers in discussions about the games they’ve made is to acknowledge the time, dedication and talent they put into them. It’s not only about being positive or making others feel decent about themselves, either. It’s about what further discussing developers along with the conditions they work in could do to improve the state of the industry beside the world of gaming itself. In not discussing the developers, it is as if their plights are being ignored despite their public effort to make issues within the industry of game development known through platforms including twitter. Though it is often dismissed, the issues of game developers being underpaid and/or overworked to meet deadlines from up top is still incredibly present and tasking on those directly involved. Talking about this issue instead of pretending it doesn’t exist for the sake of tempering impatience toward trivial things like exact launch dates would vastly improve the industry. In addition to this, devs would get the understanding and inclusion they deserve as opposed to being trapped behind tons of tweets and YouTube videos which discuss their work yet unfortunately leave them out.

Playing games has been an interest held by many for decades. While there is much (understandably and deservedly) talk about the games themselves, I think it is important to place emphasis on those who directly engage with them, as well. Just looking at the demographic of those who play games is telling in itself. Those who play games include young kids, teenagers, adults, and old people. It is something which resonates deeply with a lot of people whether they only played games when they were younger, play them only a little bit due to being busy with work, or play them nearly every day. For many people, playing games is a kind of escape from real world troubles despite what the game itself is about. This is where the importance of being able to interact with different digital worlds comes into play. For me personally, I’ve been able to find tranquility in the most post-apocalyptic, dangerous game universes. This is due to the fact that they are places totally different from the ones I find myself in every day. The issues of those inside these worlds, then, are also distinct.

This isn’t the only reason I play games, though. Being able to mentally travel someplace different is definitely a factor, but I also get deeply invested in the plots similarly to the way that I do with t.v. shows, books, and films. The themes of the titles I’ve played or watched, along with the things they’re trying to tell people, have been something I’ve deeply identified with. The difference is that this particular outlet allows people to directly interact with—or even influence—the plot, pacing and outcome. For instance, watching the protagonist of a horror film stumble through their environment as the terror unravels is one thing, but being that protagonist is a totally different perspective. Suddenly, everything is much more personal and increasingly terrifying as you traverse through dark hallways without knowing what will be behind the door at the end. You don’t get to tell the protagonist of a book or tv. show what do to, but you do get the decide certain things in games. For instance, in open world games it is often left to the player to decide if they will immediately continue the main quest or, instead, take breaks to tackle side quests or simply journey through the impressively designed world. These are things which have directly impacted me in all the time I’ve spent playing games over the years. For some people, playing games is as trivial as turning the t.v. on for background noise. For others, it is something which makes a sizable different in their daily lives. They can be transformative, in a way–games can and do leave undenial impressions on people, impacting the way they think, talk and even view the world around them. They could even be deciding facts in the direction of one’s life. Despite the identity of the person playing, there tends to be something there for them that they can personally dive into. The games people play are definitely important, but the ways they personally interact with them or are influenced by them are just as important.

There are those who look down upon user-generated content, but it’s impacts definitely shouldn’t be ignored. User-generated content can be a great way for players to identify with the games they’re playing along with the characters they’re playing as. It’s something which often stems directly from peoples’ excitement or interest in the games they play. A lot of the time, this content manifests as mods to outfits or environments with the idea of increasing immersion, creativity and personal control. However, user-generated content can exist outside of the game’s digital world, as well. One example of this is fan art. I’ve seen a lot of drawings/tributes to a lot of different games on twitter, and the dedication people put into their work is deeply impressive. This goes to show how impactful games can be. Another example of user-generated would be fan made merchandise sold on websites like Etsy. This can include physical drawings, keychains, and figures, amongst other things. All of these things share the purpose of enhancing the experience of the player. Lots of people, including myself, get invested in the world, plot and design of the games they play to the point where they want to engage with it in other ways. I don’t personally make a ton of user-generated content, but I definitely pay attention to the things made by others. It something which tends to deepen the investment I already had in different games, making me think deeper about them.

This gets into why user-generated content is such a big deal in the first place. User-generated content is important because of the way it empowers people who play games and wish to either enhance things or experience them differently. Being able to say that you contributed to something you care about, whether directly or indirectly, is a positive feeling. I’ve seen peoples’ mods being used and subsequently made popular by players, including lets players on YouTube. PlayStation recently put out a game that’s all about user-generated content called Dreams. This game allows you to make your own creations, from games to movies to music. Not only can you make a myriad of different creations, you can play those made by others, as well. This is potentially a way for future game developers to discover their talents and/or passion. It could be the things that gets them through the door in the industry. These are only some of the things brought about by the existence of user-generated content along with the outlets for it. One of the most important things in the gaming community is people coming together to talk about the games they play, and user-generated content can increase this tenfold. Mods are something which are not only growing in popularity, they are being encouraged. Whether it’s a tiny adjustment like changing a character’s outfit or a big one like totally transforming NPCs, it’s bound to make a difference. User-generated creations outside of the games, including drawings/tributes, are also a big deal because they draw people in and increase their degree of investment. I don’t think user-generated content should be looked down upon, but instead viewed in a positive light.

The existence of in-game micro-transactions or the idea of games being Pay to Win is a big topic of discussion amongst those who spend a lot of their time playing games. For the most part—and understandably so—they are looked down on. I think it’s important to note that, as a hobby, gaming can be pretty expensive depending on how invested you are/the amount of games or devices you own. Throwing additional costs onto the base cost just adds onto this to sometimes insane degrees. This might not be such a big deal in games that are either free or fairly inexpensive, but these are not the only games being impacted. It is something which taints games whose prices are much higher, as well. The default price tag of individual AAA games tends to be about 60$, which is already pretty expensive for a lot of people. When these games then incorporate Pay to Win aspects or lock important game-play mechanics/weapons behind the intimidating wall of micro-transactions, an issue is born. Unfortunately, many people are drawn into the trap of micro-transactions to the point where they are spending hundreds or even thousands of dollars on upgrades that should arguably be unlockable without a price tag associated—especially since the initial price tag for these games is already pretty high for a lot of people. Without even taking micro-transactions into account, people, including myself, have had to decide which games they are more drawn toward and which games they will either pass on or wait for discounts on due mostly to the dip these purchases inevitably make in bank accounts. These days, I haven’t noticed this practice too much in single-player games. It’s usually online games which are faced with this issue the most.

 While an argument could be made that these micro-transactions are optional (which is true), it must also be understood that buying them typically gives the player a sizeable advantage in terms of winning matches due to the points, weapons or skills they’ve purchased. Because of this, there are people who possess the belief that they must have these upgrades and therefore must increasingly spend money on them. It’s one thing if the items are purely cosmetic and/or don’t impact gameplay, but this typically isn’t the case. The items accessible only through additional purchases are usually painted as a Big Deal. The allure of digital items which would otherwise be unavailable is a drawing factor for those who buy them. Then there are those who claim they don’t make a difference—these are usually the people who don’t win a ton. While this can be disheartening to know, a lot of developers are decreasing their habit of including micro-transactions or designing their games as Pay to Win. That being said, there’s still a long way to go due to the fact that there’s still innumerable developers who’ve done the opposite of decreasing additional prices on top of their base games. I think it would definitely be beneficial to a lot of people if this practice were to die down in time.

When it comes to gaming as a hobby, “casual” (ie mobile, easily accessible….) games are often either pushed to the side or totally excluded from the discussion. Many self-proclaimed Hardcore gamers don’t see them as true gaming experiences and therefore write them off as less-than, something just for kids or something to be ignored period. In “Social networks, casual games and mobile devices: The shifting contexts of gamers and gaming,” Tama Leaver and Michele Willson write, “Debate and disagreement about what constitutes a game abound through the historical game literature. As new technologies have been introduced or new game genres have been developed, debates have opened up as to whether these should be considered games and whether those who play them can be considered to belong to the category of gamer.” (Leaver & Willson, 2) This dismissive treatment often extends past games that can be played through different devices like phones to indie titles like Shovel Knight, as well. Though these games do require knowledge of their mechanics to progress, the basic argument against them tends to be that they lack difficulty or don’t involve skill and they’re, therefore, not worth investing in. To many people, they are simply a waste of time. A lot of the time, these games are dismissed as not intense enough or too basic. 

To me, the basis of these arguments is deeply rooted in a lack of understanding different perspectives along with an unwillingness to accept that it’s okay for people to be into different kinds of things. It might be true that these games tend to require a lower skill set or are not as difficult as a lot of AAA titles, but that doesn’t mean that they deserve to be dismissed as “fake” games. There’s nothing wrong will being into the intensity/danger of games like DOOM or Call of Duty, but there’s also nothing wrong with being more into games that are based on organization or tranquility. I’m into a ton of different kinds of games. I’ve played third-person, puzzle games, platformers and too many hours of Tetris when I don’t have the time. They’re definitely different experiences, but I don’t see that as a problem. If anything, I think these games should be distinct so that they have their own place and unique impact on the people playing them. The impact of beating the final boss in a big game everybody’s talking about is not going to be equivalent to the impact of building your first town in a lesser-known indie title. It definitely won’t be the same if you’re playing one on your phone while waiting for the bus amidst tons of distractions and the other in the privacy of your own home on a much bigger display. This is all playing games, though—despite how different the experiences tend to be. To imply that one isn’t valid because it presents itself differently or holds a different kind of place is to wrongly underestimate it. At the end of the day, I think people would be better off if they played the games they wanted to and didn’t dismiss the ones they didn’t care about but instead understood their importance to others.

Works Cited

Leaver, T., & Willson, M. (2016). Social networks, casual games and mobile devices: The shifting contexts of gamers and gaming. In T. Leaver & M. Willson (Eds.), Social, Casual and Mobile Games: The Changing Gaming Landscape (pp. 1–11). London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic. 

Nostalgia is not something immediately understandable to the vast majority of people, but it is something many experience in their day to day life—whether consciously or unconsciously—when it comes to the media they interact with. In deciding things such as which t.v. show or movie to watch, which book to read, or which game to play, nostalgia tends to play a big part. I think the most common manifestation of this concept that I’ve personally witnessed is the idea that, more often than not, people will gravitate toward things that are similar to what they were interested in/impacted by as kids. This is undoubtedly true about the games people buy. In chapter 38 of How to Play Video Games, Shovel Knight: Nostalgia, John Vanderhoef writes, “Because of its intimate connection with our cultural experience, media have historically been linked to strong feelings of nostalgia. This is particularly true for gaming communities, whose adult members started playing games early in life and now associate particular eras of gaming with the pleasures of childhood.” (Vanderheof, 317) The book further discusses how nostalgia influences perception, too. Many of us grew up with just one device for playing games (ie. PlayStation, PC, Xbox, Nintendo….) In most instances, that device will hold an important place to us years down the line and even be a contributing factor to what kinds of systems we buy later in life. While I’ve had multiple different consoles/handheld game devices over the years, the first one I had as a kid was the PlayStation I played nearly every day with my twin brother. Today, it’s still something the both of us use the most often and talk about when spending time together. The only difference is we’ve broadened our taste in games beyond just Tekken and Dance-Dance Revolution—and it’s the PS4 instead of the PS2 with its limited graphical potential, wired controllers and tiny box-shaped t.v. 

The point of this is to say that the things we had as kids influence us as teens/adults whether it’s obvious or not. Those whose first system was the Nintendo (64, Game Boy, DS….) or those who played on PC are probably still gravitating toward those things as adults, too. It’s more or less inevitable. It’s what they’re used to, what inspired them, what took their breath away when they defeated that final boss and watched the credits roll through tears. Interacting with these kinds of things today takes us back to a different, possibly less overwhelming time. This isn’t to say that people’s interests don’t change, but there’s something exciting and even tranquil about delving into things from back in the day with improved technology and further personal life experience. This applies to genres, too. People who were JRPG fans as kids probably still are today, and the impact is probably much more personal than it would be if that hadn’t been the case. Then there’s third-person action adventure, platformers, puzzle games, and so forth. Most if not everybody holds a certain gaming system, gaming genre or particular series/title close to them for reasons which transcend the present moment in which they’re playing them. They spark the joy or intensity of playing those games/systems as kids in ways only they truly understand. Gaming itself, then, is something of a nostalgic practice for a lot of us. Wanting to dive into different universes/play as different kinds of people isn’t a brand new thing for those who’ve held controllers in their hands—trembling with anticipation—thousands of times. Nostalgia is present in gaming to degrees which go beyond what those who don’t play them typically understand. It’s influential, transcendent, and broad in its reach around the world when it comes to interactive media.

Works Cited

Huntmann, Nina B. and Payne, Matthew Thomas. How to Play Video Games. New York, NY, New York University Press, 2019. 

I think controllers are, without a doubt, the most instrumental tool for those who play video games. They are where the action takes place—where the gameplay decisions and button inputs are made on behalf of the player. In the How to Play Video Games chapter NES D-pad: Interface, David O’Grady talks about the important establishment of the D-pad and its influences on gaming interfaces moving forward, writing, “The interface or controller serves as a metonym of the video game’s fundamental aesthetic quality—player action—and it presents a fascinating locus for examination; it is the site where the physical and digital come together—where screen-based audiovisual actions and biomechanical agency are mutually translated.” (O’Grady, 270) The introduction of the D-pad and subsequent implementation of other key features on different kinds of controllers has become a defining trait of gaming. The typical structure of most game controllers today—movement on the left, action on the right, pause/menu buttons in the center—is an immediately recognizable image to most people who play games. It’s about as recognizable as a t.v. remote or iPhone. Whether minimal or drastic, the changes made to these controllers is usually a topic of discussion. This is understandable given that many people get used to one interface as kids and are used to it years down the line. As mentioned by O’Grady, the controller is the place where the digital and physical come together. It’s also one of the main reasons, I think, that games are so immersive. As interactive pieces of media where one truly controls what is happening on the t.v. screen, they are able to pull people into digital places to the point that they are deeply invested. The controller is what makes this possible. As tacky as it sounds, it is a bridge between worlds. 

Depending on the game, each button has its unique purpose. Outside of the basic idea that left is for movement and right is for action, there tend to be things like shoulder buttons, touch pads, and motion controls with their own delegated features to further immerse the player in whatever world they’re engaging with. In a ton of the games that I play, the shoulder buttons are imperative—they’re the trigger buttons and occasionally the dodge buttons. In the digital worlds of these games, they’re the difference between life and death. This adds to the sense of tension in that the inputs you as the player make are truly the deciding factor in the protagonist’s fate. While other forms of media like t.v. definitely possess degrees of tension, immersion, and terror at the idea of dying, you are not the one making the decisions. Different people will inevitably be impacted by the pieces of media they interact with to different degrees, but due to the use of controllers as interfaces, games particularly possess the ability to influence experiences that might otherwise be difficult to identify with/dive into. To think that this all began with the invention of a directional pad with the basic idea of being able to move protagonists in different directions is insane. The influences the D-pad has had on gaming have become increasingly obvious as time passes and more distinct features are included on player interfaces. 

Works Cited

Huntmann, Nina B. and Payne, Matthew Thomas. How to Play Video Games. New York, NY, New York University Press, 2019.

Individuals from all over the world play online games to connect with others in digital settings. For many, these digital settings exist as an escape from their real-world issues and/or busy schedules. They are places in which players can experience the thrill of being somewhere or someone totally different from what they’re used to in their daily lives. Whether the game takes place in a torn-up dystopian environment or in an immediately recognizable modern setting, players are able to deeply immerse themselves for the duration of their playtime. Ideally, an online gaming community is a place where people, despite their differences, can come together to share in a universally good time—to talk to others while working toward whatever the goal in the game they’re playing is. Unfortunately, online gaming is not such a black and white ordeal. In Deviant bodies, stigmatized identities, and racist acts, Kishonna Leah Gray-Denson writes, “Video game culture has evolved from a simple entertainment outlet into a massive mediated environment catering to a variety of users beyond gamers. This trifecta of video game culture constitutes the multibillion dollar industry that video game culture has become.” (Gray, 261) The gaming industry in today’s world is viewed, in turn, not just as a basic producer of entertainment but a thorough process of media usage and development. This inevitably impacts the way online gaming in particular works.

Due to the simple fact that thousands upon thousands of people play online daily all over the world, online gaming has become increasingly diverse as well as a topic of discussion amongst many. While this is far from a bad thing, there are those within gaming communities determined to ruin the experiences of others simply because they’re different from the typical norm. Whether it be that they are people of color, LGBT, women, disabled or otherwise distanced from the picture of what certain people believe to be a true “gamer”, they’ll be met with discrimination at the hands of the ignorant. This ties into further issues surrounding online gaming, as well. Intertwined with the sexism, racism, homophobia and transphobia which tends to plague online gaming communities is the issue of gatekeeping. There have been several instances of players—for whatever vastly different and usually trivial reasons—believing they are inherently better than others and, therefore, think they get to decide who does what and where inside of digital, interactive places. This is an issue which doesn’t only exist in gaming communities, but in those surrounding t.v. shows, movies and books, as well. There are those just trying to have a good time and possibly even get to know people who are met with the incessant use of slurs and/or personal attacks directly related to the tangible aspects of their identities. This transforms online gaming communities from places of joy to places that induce discomfort and internalized invalidation. I think it’s up to those willing to make a difference to help decrease this damaging form of harassment so that online gaming can truly be a place of inclusion, joy and understanding for those involved.

Works Cited

K.L. Gray (2012): Deviant bodies, stigmatized identities, and racist acts: examining the experiences of African-American gamers in Xbox Live, New Review of Hypermedia and Multimedia, 18:4, 261-276

The importance of portraying different kinds of individual identities in pieces of media—along with proper representation of those identities—is an increasingly discussed topic in today’s world. The topic has been talked about primarily in terms of books, t.v., and movies. In the How to Play Video Games chapter on LGBTQ Representation, Adriane Shaw writes, “Compared to other media, little academic attention has been paid to the history of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) content in digital games.” (p 110) In time, this has become less true. Particularly, the importance of representation in video games has been given a bigger spotlight as games have been taken more seriously and looked at in further depth. This, however, is not a black and white phenomenon. The “one size fits all” mentality has also been present to unfortunate degrees. Too often, people have immovable/ignorant ideas about what it is to be Black or Asian or trans or otherwise different from the typical norm and therefore do not treat certain characters with the detailed depth they deserve. In talking about portraying different identities, it is important to talk about the diversity which exists both in and between different ethnicities, genders and sexualities. In this way, there isn’t just one way to include “proper” representation of people. Inevitably, people within different groups—despite possibly similar traits—are not mirror images of one another. This is why individuality is especially imperative. It is not only beneficial to include different kinds of people, it is beneficial to portray them as unique and distinct as opposed to identically one-dimensional. It is one thing to include people of color and those who are part of the LGBTQ+ community when building narratives. It is another to give them traits which go beyond these things in order to present them as genuinely three-dimension human beings with their own thoughts and desires.

This isn’t to say that games across the board are bad with their inclusion of representation and identity. There are plenty of titles which do this incredibly well, presenting individual difference as positive and existing in tandem with differences in behavior and ideas as they correlate to the game’s plot. Furthermore, presenting a game’s universe diversely tends to increase player immersion. To be a part of a place in a video game which is at all recognizable in terms of who occupies it transforms that place from just a digital one inside a t.v. to something you can personally imagine or be impacted by. This isn’t the only thing which increases immersion, though. Whether the game is in first or third person can also dictate how you will personally experience it. Then there is the game’s writing, dialogue and pacing to think about. Essentially, all of these things work together to usefully influence how each player will be impacted. Inclusion of different identities is just the first step in creating diverse, interestingly built digital worlds which can truly impact those playing in them—even years down the line when other games have taken their place in the discussion.

Works Cited

Huntmann, Nina B. and Payne, Matthew Thomas. How to Play Video Games. New York, NY, New York University Press, 2019.

The debate over whether narrative is important or necessary for games to thrive has been in progress for years. I am amongst those who believe that narrative, however one chooses to define the term, is an important part of many video games (though I don’t think it is inherently necessary for a game to be worth playing.) Today, games have been increasingly including narrative direction that might not have been present if there had been less demand for or interest in its inclusion. Much like books, t.v. shows and movies, there are an innumerable amount of games which are dependent on their narratives. This is to say that they are driven by themes, plot points, and word-building techniques in the form of dialogue and, occasionally, gameplay mechanics. The narratives of games can even be the primary drawing factor. This can be true for games that are totally narrative driven to games which have minimal or optional narrative aspects. Examples of “optional” narrative games include big titles such as Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto. Many who play these games primarily play online and therefore do not experience as much narrative—or at least not something easily identifiable as narrative—as they would by choosing to play the games’ single player campaigns instead. However, even these games form fanbases of individuals solely invested in portions which include an obvious narrative. In other words, narrative can be what makes people care about the reasons they are playing and what they are working toward in the digital, fictional worlds of video games. Entire online communities have formed on the basis of fans discussing the plots, character development and writing of their favorite games. I’ve seen this everywhere from twitter to instagram.

This being the case, I found it odd that Ian Bogost’s piece “Video Games Are Better Without Stories” is dismissive of the very implication that games can both have narratives and do them just as well as books, t.v. and movies. Bogost writes, “The best interactive stories are still worse than even middling books and films.” This statement in itself implies that books and movies being “better” than video games is an immovable truth as opposed to an individual opinion. There are definitely game narratives which have been met with less than positive reception or have just plainly been viewed as bad. However, this tends to be the case for media in all its different forms. Importantly, thoughts on narratives across the board are far from objective in that they are not universally shared by 100% of those who interact with them. There are brilliantly written games whose narratives are continuously praised just as there are those deemed as poorly done. This is true. It is also true that books, t.v. and movies are met with this divisive kind of feedback all the time. To argue that video game narratives are unimportant or should not be included is to suggest that interactive modes of story-telling are less worthy of being paid attention to than those that are typically non-interactive. Furthermore, Bogost’s piece seems to ignore the fact that different forms of media have been intertwined together for decades. Interactive stories such as Netflix’s Bandersnatch as well as choose-your-own adventure books have become more and more prominent in today’s world and undoubtedly boarder on the thin lines of definition. In Bogost’s eyes, should these, too, drop the inclusion of narrative, and would they truly be better off if they did? Personally, I think narratives have their important places across different forms of media and can be especially beneficial to interactive stories (due to those interacting usually being able to decide the direction of things.) To ignore them is to dismiss the distinctiveness between the ways in which games, t.v., films and books utilize them as well as how they uniquely impact different individuals.

Works Cited

Bogost, Ian. “Video Games Are Better Without Stories.” The Atlantic, 25 Apr. 2017, https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2017/04/video-games-stories/524148/