A Textbook Introduction to Game Design

The author began reading Jesse Schell’s The Art of Game Design in June 2021 and completed it nearly a year later. This post compiles one social media post per chapter, highlighting interesting insights from each section.

Chapter 1

“The most important skill of a game designer is listening.” The author, who works as an Escalation Engineer for Microsoft Support, sees parallels between this design principle and their professional role.

Chapter 2

Game designers focus on capturing the essence of experiences rather than exact replicas. This requires introspection and curiosity about human nature and psychology.

Chapter 3

Venue matters in two ways: the real-world setting where games are played (living room, subway, arena) and the fictional venue within the game world itself. Understanding both ensures designers know their market and game themes.

Chapter 4

The concept of endogenous value—where games create internal worth through mechanics. Spiritfarer exemplifies this through establishing routines and character preferences.

Chapter 5

Story should reinforce mechanics, and mechanics should enhance story. Design elements benefit from a unifying theme connecting gameplay, narrative, and aesthetics. Nier demonstrates this integration.

Chapter 6

Strong thematic elements create more resonant experiences. Psychonauts serves as an excellent example of cohesive theming.

Chapter 7

Immersing oneself in a game’s world during the design process enhances brainstorming and player engagement.

Chapter 8

Two key insights: (1) Risk mitigation through iteration addresses uncertainties about fun factor and feature usage; (2) Games function as toys providing settings and rules for player-created experiences, like Minecraft.

Chapter 9

“All play activities center around childhood, since childhood is centered around play.” Games cultivate an open, curious mindset similar to childhood thinking.

Chapter 10

Flow state relates to how humans perceive reality rather than objective conditions. Understanding perception allows designers to create well-paced experiences.

Chapter 11

Adding extrinsic motivation to intrinsically valuable activities undermines internal motivation—relevant to free-to-play model conversions.

Chapter 12

“Games are about achieving goals. Goals must be easily stated and understood.” A dense chapter on mechanics with this standout principle.

Chapter 13

Balancing risk versus reward creates agency through meaningful choices when offering both low-risk/low-reward and high-risk/high-reward options.

Chapter 14

The book questions whether traditional puzzles qualify as games since they’re completed only once. The author respectfully disagrees, citing single-play video games.

Chapter 15

“Less is more with interface”—simpler designs appeal more. Untitled Goose Game demonstrates minimal HUD allowing focus on gameplay.

Chapter 16

Interest curves map compelling moments on a linear graph, illustrating an intuitive feeling with practical utility in experience design.

Chapter 17

Environmental storytelling creates compelling narratives. Bloodborne tells its story visually through Yarnham’s doomed cityscape.

Chapter 18

Well-designed games feature characters whose goals drive players toward overall objectives—indirect control mechanisms.

Chapter 19

Transmedia worlds provide multiple entry points (novels, orchestral series) for engaging fans across different media formats.

Chapter 20

The tension between idealized protagonists and blank slates: idealized characters engage some players but alienate others; blank slates enable projection but risk underdevelopment.

Chapter 21

The chapter unexpectedly discusses architecture, inspiring further reading in Christopher Alexander’s The Timeless Way of Building.

Chapter 22

Brownboxing—using cardboard and paper to prototype VR experiences—offers a accessible, creative prototyping technique.

Chapter 23

Aesthetics critically shape game experiences, though the author feels the chapter overemphasizes visuals while underexploring audio and haptics.

Chapter 24

Gaming and socializing interconnect deeply. Spectatorship—watching others play through Let’s Plays—constitutes a social component of single-player experiences.

Chapter 25

Conflict critically strengthens gaming communities, whether through player competition or shared obstacle-overcoming.

Chapter 26

Teamwork fundamentally requires love: for the game, audience, or project aspects. Love encompasses patience in ways passion alone cannot.

Chapter 27

Design documents serve dual purposes: remembering and communication. They should remain flexible rather than prescriptive guides.

Chapter 28

Playtesting deserves early, frequent implementation requiring critical designer input beyond sessions and surveys.

Chapter 29

The Hype Cycle continuously influences gaming, recently applied to emerging technologies like NFTs beyond graphics and gameplay methods.

Chapter 30

Understanding clients remains essential. The author questions how this applies to crowdfunded games with thousands of stakeholders.

Chapter 31

Gaining traction for novel ideas requires insider advocacy—termed “sponsors” in career development contexts. Cultivating relationships proves invaluable.

Chapter 32

Barriers to entry function as opportunities, forcing focus on a game’s core strengths. Profitability matters despite designers’ priorities elsewhere.

Chapter 33

Games facilitate transformation through reflection, calm, and exposure to new perspectives. They can meaningfully impact player wellbeing.

Chapter 34

Games possess capacity and responsibility for helping people beyond providing throwaway entertainment, as demonstrated by narrative-heavy series.

Chapter 35

“Why are you doing this?” reveals personal passion—the book’s concluding lesson applicable to future projects.

Game Design Beyond Games

The design “lenses” introduced throughout the book extend beyond game design, proving applicable to entertainment experiences and everyday life.

References

Schell, J. (2020). The Art of Game Design: A book of lenses. CRC Press, Taylor & Francis Group.

One busy month and cross country move later and I am back, writing to you from oceanside Massachusetts. Today I’m sharing something I wrote in 2020, but never published. Don’t worry, I am working on something new for May’s post. For now, sit back, relax, and enjoy a short retrospective on Sonic the Hedgehog.

1991 the year before my birth, the USSR is dissolved, Jim Henson dies, and Sonic the Hedgehog hits stores in the U.S. Some time in the later in the 90s (I’m fuzzy on the year), I’m introduced to Sonic for the first time through Sonic 3 & Knuckles. Now that I’m in 2020 reflecting on my fond memories of less COVID-19 filled times, one thing that doesn’t feel right is the fact I never played the original Sonic the Hedgehog. I wanted to see where Sonic started.

I put my mind back into the space of 1991, trying to pretend that the flashiest, hottest games I’ve seen up to this point have been coming from Nintendo, mainly Mario games. Immediately Sonic is a blast of color and sound. Compared to the relative sober color palette and design of Super Mario Bros, Sonic is rainbow ride to super speed. Music is much punchier as well, with a “dance like no one is watching” attitude.

After getting over the initial impression of wonderful color and sound I hit right on that D-pad. Sonic built speed slowly, but once he got going he was FAST. If, when sprinting, I pressed the down button sonic tucked himself into a ball and with the sound of a jet engine spun up to become a blue blur, smashing anything in his path.

One thing that did take me aback having played Sonic 3 first, no spin dash. In Sonic 3 any time I’d loose moment I could press down and (button) rapidly, causing the titular blue hedgehog to tuck into a ball and build up a charge. When releasing the down button Sonic would blast off. This feature is missing from Sonic the Hedgehog, and for the first few levels I was struggling. I remember blasting through some of the zones in Sonic 3 at breakneck speed, but is that true memory or just nostalgia mixed with the current sensibility for what Sonic is support to be?

In Sonic the Hedgehog the pacing in a level is much more stop-and-go than what I remember from playing the third game in the series. It isn’t a breakneck sprint from the left to the right of the screen carefully trying to avoid enemies like some kind of high-speed hurdle. Instead Sonic the Hedgehog has a bit more of a relaxed pace, with some massive bursts of speed in between. That isn’t a criticism, as a slower pace means I have time to look around, find that hidden extra life, grab a shield, find some ring monitor, or even better, another (faster) path to completion. When Sonic isn’t moving a million miles an hour I realized how much depth there is to every level.

Each level in Sonic the Hedgehog seems to be built around a series of layered paths, one at the top, one in the middle, and one at the bottom. From my experience, the top route is the fastest, but the most difficult to traverse, the bottom route is the slower and safer offer, and the middle is the middle, a balance of speed and difficulty. What I love about this design is that without having any difficulty settings the game builds in a kind easy, intermediate, and route. Plus, there’s the thrill that you may start off at the top path, make one slip up, and end up in the middle or the bottom. Or you could fall to the bottom, then work you way up to the higher path. In a lot of ways the level design feels more free, more challenging, and containing more opportunity for surprise than some of the newer Sonic games which tend to feel on rails.

I blasted through Sonic the Hedgehog in 2 days, and I am by no means a professional, or even the most skilled amateur game player. Granted, that was with some modern niceties like save states, and a rewind feature in the emulator I was using (which I only remembered to use once, then promptly forgot about through the rest of my playthrough). If you’re just trying to get from the beginning to the end of Sonic the game isn’t all that hard. I’d even say it is easier than beating Super Mario Brothers. Where Sonic adds the challenge is gathering all the Chaos Emeralds. Now, this is something I’m familiar with from Sonic 3. Hidden in bonus levels are Chaos Emeralds, and collecting all of them nets “true” ending. Maybe one day I’ll go back for all of them, but for now I’m happy to say I got to the end of Sonic the Hedgehog, and I had a lot of fun, like I said before I can see why there was a bit of Sonic mania in the early 90s.

I may be late to the party but I’m a fan of the little blue hedgehog Sega designed as their Mario killer. The king certainly hasn’t been dethroned, but Sonic has something different, and special to offer. The quality of this first game is incredible, it’s presentation is colorful and excited without being obnoxious, and it offers a surprising amount of variety in challenge and play style. It doesn’t always hold up; you can’t save between levels, there’s a live system, and I’ve yet to find an emulator that won’t cause some occasional lag which can be deadly, but these are small things when taking the game as a whole. Even in 2020 Sonic the Hedgehog is still bursting with energy, excitement, and determination.

Last month I wrote about my favorite games of 2021, and it got me thinking it may be helpful to share how I track what games I’ve played. When I was young and naïve I kept a spreadsheet, which was functional but a bit unintuitive to work with. So, one day, after getting tired of resizing column widths, and fiddling with cell formatting, I decided to make a change. I needed something that could track all my gaming cataloging needs: Wishlist, backlog, playing, and played. It was also important any tool I chose allowed me to easily take notes about the games I play. After checking an array of notetaking and list-making software I took a slight detour into project management. Eventually I found something that met all my needs: Trello. “But Trello is for project management, or bug tracking” you might say, and you would be right, but it can be used for so much more. Let me demonstrate how I use Trello to manage my game library and notes.

First, let me briefly describe how Trello works. Trello is a Kanban board. What is a Kanban board? Kanban gets its name from the Japanese word for billboard, it was developed by Toyota in the late 1940s to streamline their manufacturing operations. A Kanban board is a tool used to organize work. Each bit of work, task, thing, or widget is represented as a card. Any details and comments about the task are written on the card with the goal of keeping all information related to the task in one place. Cards are then organized into columns. Typically, each column describes a state of work. For example, you may have columns for “To Do”, “In Progress”, and “Completed”. The cards are moved between columns as their state changes. For example, once you think of a task it may be added to “To Do”, after starting the task it moves to “In Progress”, and when the task is finished it moves to “Complete”. Back in the day Kanban boards were physical, each task was represented with a notecard, and the boards were placed in relatively public places so a team could visualize their work. I’m not making auto parts, or trying to execute on a project, so how does Trello’s Kanban boards apply to maintaining a video game library?
On my Trello board each card represents a game. Let’s look at a game I’m currently playing, Persona 5 The Royal, as an example of a card’s anatomy.

1.) First, we have the title, which is rather self-explanatory.
2.) Next is the description where I like to add details such as a concept summary, production team members, the platform the game was released on, the genre, and more.

3.) In the comments section I add notes and observations about the game.

4.) Finally, to add a bit of color, I also like to add the games cover art to the which gives the card more of that video game box look. Sitting there in the “Playing” column doesn’t it look like a big box game on a shelf?

The card wasn’t always organized under “Playing”, it’s moved between a few different columns, and it’s like to move at least once more.

I use columns to organize my games by their current state. That was a rather technical description so let me break it down. In my Trello board I have 6 columns: Wishlist, backlog, playing, beaten, favorites, played not beaten. Going back to Persona 5 The Royal as an example, that game lived comfortably in the “Wishlist” bin for quite a while. I had the game in my sights but didn’t quite have access to it yet. Once I finally got access to Persona 5 The Royal it’s corresponding card was moved from Wishlist to backlog. Now I had access to the game, but I wasn’t actively playing. When the time came that I decided to commit myself to playing Persona 5 The Royal the card moved to the “Now Playing” column, where it is currently living quite comfortably. In the card’s future it may find itself in the “played not beaten” column if I take a long break and pick up another game, or the “beaten” column if I get to the credit crawl. Based on my experience so far though I think the ultimate destination will be my favorites columns.

I didn’t always have this many columns. When I first made my Trello board there were only four columns: wishlist, backlog, playing, and beaten. It was functional but lacked a level of specificity I was seeking. It didn’t feel right moving a game from “Now Playing” back to “Backlog” for example. I think of a backlog as a set of things untouched, tasks unstated. Putting a game I already started playing and gained some experience with back into backlog just felt wrong. I guess “Now Playing” and “Played Not Beaten” could be combined into an single “In Progress” column, but I like to keep my “Now Playing” column pretty clean; it’s all part of my attempt to focus more on the games I’m currently playing and avoid getting too distracted, otherwise I may never finish anything! I put a lot of thought into what games I should spend my time playing, perhaps that’s why I enjoy this process of organizing and categorizing.

Looking at my little abstraction of a game library, my Trello board, it reminds me of a physical shelf of games. Organizing my game library in Trello helps me visualize my life in games. With a single glance I can see my accomplishments (what I’ve played), keep myself focused (on what I’m currently playing), look ahead to what’s next (my backlog of games), and keep track of what I want to play (my Wishlist). To me getting that instant snapshot is one of the Kanban boards key benefits that is useful for project management, game organization, or anything that you’d like to track long term. I hope this inspires you to think of ways a Kanban board could bring a little more satisfaction to your favorite activities :).

2021 is done already?

When the year started it felt like it may never end, but looking back it seems time has gone by so quickly. Maybe it’s a sign I needed to slow down and reflect more often, but I was surprised when I looked back to find how many games I completed this year. Nineteen games I completed, nineteen games! That’s more than one a month, more than my wildest childhood dreams. My kid-self would be green as a tree with envy to know that adult Calvin had gotten to the credit crawl of nineteen games, so let’s not tell him about all the games I didn’t complete or he may remain verdant for all time. And what a way to spend my time, I played some great games this year. While I could regale you with every little experience, I’ll do us both a favor and keep this discussion scoped to five games: Three honorable mentions, a game that did not come out in 2021, and a game that did come out in 2021. Don’t expect a numbered list, a “best to worst” or “worst to best” each of these games gave me a unique experience I don’t think I could rank any particular one as better. That said though, I do like themes, and it is fair to say each of these games did something in common to inspiring my exaltation of their virtues. So, without further ado let’s get to the games. First, the honorable mentions

Fantasian - An Industry Veteran’s Return to Form

How can you get me to subscribe to your monthly gaming service? Publish an exclusive game created by an independent studio whose leader is a respected industry veteran in the Japanese Role Playing Game genre. Fantasian, the latest JRPG by the legendary Hironobu Sakaguchi (creator of the Final Fantasy series), was released exclusively to Apple Arcade in 2021 without much fanfare. That’s a shame, because Fantasian was my favorite RPG of 2021, despite me having only finished the first half of the game. That was, in part, due to Fantasian’s odd release structure. The first half of the game was released in early 2021, while the second half released in late 2021. I have only gotten up to the final boss fight in the first half of the game (it’s a tough fight, okay!), but I adore Fantasian. Sure, I’m a little biased, I have nostalgia glasses on when it comes to JRPGs, especially those that are even tangentially related to the pre Enix days of Squaresoft. While Fantasian at times sticks closely to Final Fantasy tropes (turn based combat, heavy emphasis on crystals, random battles, teenagers saving the world, amnesia plots) it does enough to feel unique and fresh. For example, the maligned random battles are turned on their heads slightly when you’re given an in-game item, the Dimengeon. When activated, the Dimengeon allows you to save up your random battle encounters before deciding to take on all those enemies at once. There is a bit of risk/reward to the system, as there is a storage limit for the number of enemies encountered and if you exceed that limit you’re immediately thrown in the battle. I found the Dimengeon especially useful for moving quickly through an area, or grinding by storing many enemies for a big battle with a lot of juicy exp. Another area where Fantasian improves on tradition is in its combat. While still turn based, the targeting system is more fluid. Actions need to be aimed at enemies or allies. Some of these actions may have circular targeting reticules, some may be straight lines which can damage an entire row of enemies, others are spells which can be curved to avoid some while hitting others. It’s a neat system that adds another level of tactics to a battle. I think though my favorite things about Fantasian are the music (composed by Final Fantasy veteran Nobuo Uematsu), and the world design.

The music is classic Uematsu, upbeat and driving licks for battle, laid bad grooves for the towns. Fantasian’s music always seems to have the right mood for the moment and the setting. And talk about settings! The world of Fantasian is unique to any game I have played in that every map is based on high resolution photogrammetry taken of real-life miniatures. Similar to how the early 3D final fantasy games would use hand drawn background art, then insert the 3D models for characters and certain objects afterward, Fantasian takes high-res photos of miniature models, then places the 3D characters, objects, and effects over the world. It creates an incredibly toyetic experience. I’d find myself exploring every inch of the world to see all the beautiful miniature work. I’ll admit, Fantasian is a nostalgia trip that is presented with enough fresh ideas to keep me from being bored. Feel free to take my praise with a grain of salt, but if you, like me, enjoy a classic JRPG, Fantasian is a must play. I can’t wait to go back and complete the latter half of the game now that it has released.

Ring Fit Adventure - A Game I Play Nearly Every Day

There was one, and only one game that I played nearly every day (5 days a week on average) in 2021. What is this game? You might be asking. Competitive multiplayer? Something esports related perhaps that takes regular practice to hone particular skill? Nah, it was nothing like that. The game I played the most in 2021 was developed by Nintendo to get people exercising: Ring Fit Adventure. If you’re not familiar with Ring Fit Adventure it’s the follow up to the successful Wii Fit of days gone by. Rather than having a balance board and being played on the Wii, Ring Fit Adventure supplies you with a pilates ring and a leg strap and is played on the Nintendo Switch. Having never used a pilates ring I didn’t really know what to expect, but Nintendo made it simple. As soon as the game starts it asks you to slot one of your joycon into a clip on the ring, and another into the leg strap. The sensors in the joycon track your movements, which not only allows your onscreen avatar to move as you move, but also allows the game to give you guidance on getting the most out of your workout. It’s not just exercise though, it’s also a role-playing game where you battle opponents, get gold, experience, level up, and gain new skills. Changing your clothing alters your stats slightly, and you can even craft smoothies which provide temporary improvements or replenish health. Play is broken up between mini-game challenges which use the ring in many innovative ways (from sculpting a digital clay pot on a wheel, to blowing away wooden crates), on rails running level broken up by enemy encounters, and boss fights. What surprised me most was how well the role-playing elements reinforce the concept of exercise.

While you’re leveling up your character, you’re leveling up your health! The RPG elements also cleverly disguise the true surprise: Ring Fit adventure is a real workout. Unlike Wii fit which mostly felt like a Yoga 101 machine, Ring Fit has you jog in place, pump your arms, twist and crunch your abs, and squat those thigh. More than anything Ring Fit adventure is obsessed with squats, so prepare for your legs to be sore after a good session. Now, I must be honest, I bought Ring Fit Adventure back when it released in 2019 but I didn’t complete the campaign until 2012. Perhaps the pandemic cabin fever got to me, or maybe I’m just getting older and more concerned with my health, but I’m a bit proud of myself knowing the game I played most frequently this past year not only entertained me but also make me a little healthier. Brings back memories of playing Dance Dance Revolution in the basement (so I wouldn’t creating a thumping racket, of course), pushing myself to the max and not caring because I was loving every minute. But, I digress. Get Ring Fit adventure, it’s a blast, even if you don’t normally enjoy video games, or exercise!

Demon’s Souls and Death Stranding - A Tie

Demon’s Souls and Death Stranding have nothing more in common than the fact I couldn’t choose between the two for my third honorable mention so I’m cheating and writing about both in one section, haha! First, Death Stranding, what an experience. I can safely say I’ve never played anything like Death Stranding. I was absorbed by beautiful desolation of the world, the haunting emotive soundtrack, and a story that surprised with how much it impacted. Planning the logistics of deliveries, finding a balance between how much I could take and how fast I could move it, became something I looked forward to. I listened to more audiobooks while playing delivery man and exposed myself to more new literature, than I have since high school (Kobo Abe’s Woman in the Dunes, and the Strugatsky’s Roadside Picnic gave me depression, but Yvgeny Zamyantans We brought me back around). Death Stranding is the kind of game I’m glad I played, but will probably never play again. I enjoyed it immensely, but it’s unusual game play loops and at times dreary pacing make it a game that requires a specific mood.

Demon’s Souls on the other hand is something I intend play again, and could pick up any time no matter my mood. I must admit I have a taste for From Software games, and since I hadn’t played the original Demon’s Souls releases back in 2009 I wanted to see where the Souls games started. I was hopeful for a more-or-less authentic experience as Bluepoint had promised to stick as close to form as possible, for good and for bad. I was not disappointed, and despite some odd design choices laid bare by time and improvements in subsequent Souls games, I still had a blast. Blue Points Demon’s souls is visceral, with a level of precision and polish that make for an addictive experience. Even after getting my face stamped into the dirt by a miner, or pierced through the heart by a crystal projectile shot from a sky faring manta ray, I wanted to keep going. From Software has an addictive formula going, and Blueprint elevates the visuals and audio to new heights.

Spiritfarer - Top Game Not Released in 2021 that I Completed in 2021

I’ve already written an entire blog post on Spiritfarer so I’ll keep this section brief. I love Spiritfarer. Spiritfarer makes me feel safe and comfortable, while also having the courage to face any challenges that come my way. It’s a zen-like experience island hopping while doing your best to take care of those spirits who join you during their last days. It’s not just beautifully presented with gorgeous hand-drawn art, a lovely soundtrack, and interesting well written characters, but the game mechanics re-enforce the emotional impact of the experience. I’m generally not a fan of life simulators, or games that revolve around a gathering and crafting mechanics, but Spiritfarer presented itself in such a way that it left me enraptured. With the final update having recently released I can’t wait to go back and meet a few new spirits.

Psychonauts 2 - Top Game Released in 2021 that I Completed in 2021

I wasn’t even aware Psychonauts 2 was in development until I saw a reveal trailer during Microsoft’s E3 press conference in 2019, but once I saw it I couldn’t contain my excitement. I was late in discovering Psychonauts, having not had any of the consoles it released to when I was a child, and then it’s poor commercial performance relegating it to relative obscurity as a cult hit. I tried Psychonauts on the recommendation of a friend. Mind you the time between when I received the recommendation and when I played the game was rather large, but the point is I did eventually play the game. I was sick with the flu when I played Psychonauts, so I blasted through it in about 2 – 3 days. It was some of the best 2 – 3 days of gaming in my life, despite a throbbing head, feverish body, and runny nose. Psychonauts, while rough around the edges, was brimming with personality and charm, and had the story, writing, and level design chops to back it all up. Hopping from mind to mind I never really knew what to expect next. Few games have kept me so engaged, so entertained, and wondering what would come next. Psychonauts 2 is one of those few games.

Playing Psychonauts 2 feels like hanging out with an old friend. It simultaneously feels like almost no time has passed, and several console generations have gone by. Achieving what few sequels do Psychonauts 2 takes everything that’s good about the first and leans into them, tosses out the things that didn’t work, and spends time improving what just needed a little love. Combat, for example, is smooth as butter compared to the functional but clunky experience in the first game. Arrowheads, my arch nemesis, are gone and the new currency Psitanium is much simpler to find and in much greater abundance; no more frustrating session with the dowsing rod for me. The story wasn’t bad too, maybe not as surprisingly endearing and funny as the first, but a sequel story can hardly be a surprise. And what is Psychonauts 2 greatest strength? Level design. Much like the first game, Psychonauts dares to go where no games has gone before. While other games tend to stick to safe generic sci-fi, fantasy, or “realistic” settings, Psychonauts has such settings as: a world of teeth and mouths, a psychedelic cross-country band trek, a hospital that doubles as casino. I can’t think of any other games with this level of imagination and polish. Congrats Psychonauts 2, you’re the best game I played in 2021 that came out in 2021.

Wrapping up 2021

In my opening I mentioned that every game I’d be discussing had a unifying theme which inspired me to write about them. I must warn you, there is some grade A cheese coming your way because the thing that all these games have in common is…they brought me joy. That is what games are all about, the joy of play. Please don’t misunderstand joy as happiness, not every game I love makes me happy, but they do enrapture me (I’m looking at you Death Stranding). Every game I love has captured my mind in such a way I often think about them years later, or revisit them to get those incredible experiences again. To me, that experience of engagement, of being lost in another world, no matter if that world is about fighting fantastical manifestations of mental processes, or doing wide squats to stop an anthropomorphic dragon from spreading his toxic workout culture, is what brings me joy in games. I hope you found some joy in gaming this past year too, and that 2022 brings new excitement and adventures. Stay safe, and don’t forget to play.

l’appendice

As a little bonus, here’s a list of the games I played and completed in 2021 in no particular order:
• Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword HD
• Death Stranding Directors Cut
• Halo: CE
• Spider Man Miles Morales
• Sonic the Hedgehog 2
• Final Fantasy X HD Switch
• Final Fantasy X-2 HD Switch
• Final Fantasy XIV Shadowbringers Main Scenario
• Metroid Dread
• Super Mario 64 (Super Mario 3D All-Stars)
• A Hat in Time
• Spiritfarer
• Demon’s Souls (Bluepoint)
• Nier (2010)
• Cyberpunk 2077
• Psychonauts 2
• Super Mario 3D World
• Ring Fit Adventure

When I started playing Spiritfarer I found it such a cozy and charming place to be it became my regular pre-bed ritual; something I could unwind with after my daily trials. The beautiful art, serene soundtrack, and lack of urgency were quite relaxing. I was growing veggies, cooking food, coasting from island to island on Everlight power. I was chatting with goofy characters, upgrading my ship, talking to Spritis, getting to know them, making their favorite foods. Then a Spirit asked me to take them to the Everdoor, and not long after they were gone. I was surprised to find the Spirit’s absence hit me hard. I’d find myself making their favorite meal, only to remember no one on the ship would enjoy it quite the same. I’d walk by their house, dark, empty. Veggies I no longer needed were piling up. I was disrupted, my routine was broken, I missed that Spirit. I’m not ashamed to admit I felt a sense of grief which called to mind my own personal experiences with losing loved ones. That’s when I was hooked.

What struck me most about my sudden sense of loss was I didn’t care much for that first Spirit. Gwen was haughty, overbearing, and aloof. Despite the lack of connection, I still missed Gwen when she was gone. Spiritfarer built routines around an individual, got me used to performing certain functions, behaviors, responses, then it removed the subject. Abruptly my staunchly habit driven human brain felt a sense of absence, having lost a set of algorithms it was so used to performing. But I’m getting ahead of myself, let me set the stage.
In Spiritfarer you play as the Spiritfarer, a young woman named Stella who is tasked with shepherding Spirits to whatever comes next. The game opens with Stella and her cat Daffodil canoeing down a preternaturally red river when they cross paths with then Spiritfarer Charon. Without much fuss Charon entitles Stella the new Spiritfarer, gives her the power of the Everlight (the game’s all in one magical tool and power source), shows her the gateway to the great beyond ,the Everdoor, and departs in a moment of solemn beauty. It’s a lovely intro that gives a little taste of what’s to come, but it mostly plays itself. Not until Charon departs does the real gameplay begin.

Spiritfarer’s gameplay is a bit hard to describe as it’s a hodgepodge of a few different genres. The main gameplay loop involves traveling between a series of islands in a vast ocean, finding wayward Spirits, gathering and crafting resources, and maintaining your relationships. The goal is to make the Spirits on your ship as comfortable and happy as possible before they decide it’s time to travel to the Everdoor. Making Spirits cozy and cheerful requires you discover each one’s likes and dislikes: food, living accommodations, behaviors of other Spirits, and most adorably how much they like to be hugged. The more comfortable you make Spirits, the more they reveal about themselves, and the more the narrative unfolds. For example, a Spirit may open up to you after you make them one of their favorite snacks because everyone, even the dead, love to eat.

Every Spirit has certain foods they like, foods they dislike, and a favorite dish. Discovering the finer points of each Spirit’s tastes is its own challenge. Some Spirits will share their preferences outright, others are coy. The best way to learn is through a combination of trial-and-error and making observations about each Spirit’s personality. Having expend effort to learn a Spirit’s tastes is one of the elements that builds that emotional connection I was referring to earlier; an emotional algorithm. It forced me to consider the needs of the Spirits and began constructing a loop, a habit around their eating.

Feeding into the food loop (pun intended) are gathering and crafting. Most meals must be cooked, with few exceptions. You must travel to various locations gathering or buying the right ingredients. Aboard your ship you can produce other ingredients, by growing fruits, vegetables, grains, or aging dairy to make yogurts and cheeses. Cooking takes place on the ship and involves combining different ingredients in an Everlight powered oven. Some recipes require multiple stages of cooking; cooking an ingredient that will be combined with something else then thrown back in the oven to make a finished dish. Each one of these activities has its own little routine, a looplette that feeds into the larger game loop. Again this all drives the emotional connection. You’re glad Atul, Stella’s uncle (which the game presents as a jolly rotund frog), enjoys the fried chicken you made because it took effort not only to learn he loves fried chicken, but also to gather all the materials and prepare the meal. It took me ages to figure out where to get the oil to fry that cursed bird meat. the other activities in Spiritfarer, building dwellings, chatting with and hugging Spirits, all follow a similar pattern as the cooking, the gathering, and the crafting. It’s not long before you’re a routine machine busily making Spirits as happy as possible.

Making Spirits happy, however, isn’t just about maxing out some arbitrary stats for the sake of winning, it changes their behavior. Spirits you forget to hug, or don’t feed, will become depressed and loaf around despondently. If they’re happy, they may give you gifts, or even perform certain actions like playing a favorite instrument. Those actions in turn may influence other Spirits. There is a sense of community on your little floating city, that is enhanced by Stella running a gambit of chores trying (sometimes in vain) to keep everyone satisfied.
Despite Stella’s best efforts, some Spirits just don’t get along. A joyful Spirit playing their favorite instrument may cheer one neighbor up but annoy another. A disgruntled Spirit may bully their shipmates, trying to bring everyone down to their emotional levels. It seems impossible to max out everyone’s happiness on the first playthrough, which I take as a reflection of a hard life lesson to learn; you can’t make everyone happy.

The connecting thread, though, through all the activities performed is that sense of repetition. For a lot of games overt repetition is tedious, and smacks of padding for time, but for Spiritfarer it is a strength. It reminds me of the adage that you never truly understand how precious something is until it is gone. Each time a Spirit left for the Everdoor I lost another set of routines, and it made me realized how much I had enjoyed them. Near the end of the game, with only a few Spirits left, I started to feel empty. I was overflowing with trepidation. All games end, but I never felt that impending sense of finality as much as in Spiritfarer. I was a routine machine with no more algorithms to follow. To put it more in the language of the game, I was a caretaker without anyone to whom I could administer care; that was a powerful feeling. When I eventually made the last journey to the Everdoor it felt right, like I’d done what I needed to do, and I was content. I hope that’s how it will really feel at the end.

If you’ve read a fair amount of Stephen King novels you may have noticed his longer stories tend to have great initial hooks before meandering around in the middley bits, and just when you’re ready to call it quits finally the ending arrives; they have pacing problems. Now, this is something my husband has told me, since I’ve never been able to finish a single Stephen King novel due to all that middley meandering. Ghost of Tsushima almost met the same fate, I almost didn’t finish it. In Ghost you play as Jin Sakai, an orphaned lordling taken under the wing of his stern traditionalist Samurai uncle. As Jin you must confront the invading Mongols and fight an inner struggle between loyalty to the teachings of uncle frowny face or becoming a ruthless monster to drive out a ruthless enemy. The game starts off with a bang during the Mongol invasion of the titular Tsushima island. Then you spend the middle 10 - 20 hours of the game in a tedious and repetitive slog which only my intense stubbornness got me through. Like many a King novel, Ghost of Tsushima is big, long, and has pacing issues.

After completing the first section of Tsushima island I quickly found mostly copy-paste content. My play sessions became more and more spaced out, shorter and shorter. At worst it only took about 15 minutes for my eyes to glaze over and switch to something else. But it wasn’t always this way, there was a time I was having fun, playing with foxes, fawning at vistas, slicing up raiders…

Ghost has some good stuff to offer, primarily in presentation. Visuals are polished, draw distance is insane, cinematics are well directed, and the soundtrack hits the right notes in the right places. For me the most striking aspect of the visual design is the seemingly constant movement of the environments, helped in part by the divine wind constantly blustering about. The ripples through fields of pampas grass and flurries of snow swirling through the air gives the game world a living breathing quality. But beauty is only skin deep, and this skin is stretched thin over a world that’s too big for its own good; if everything is beautiful, nothing is.

Ghost is massive, it felt like one of the largest open world games I’ve played. At first it seems you’re spoiled for choice, looking around seeing smoke fires in the distance knowing each one is either a Mongol or raider camp you can take down. Then you realize you’re running through a gambit of similar activities. A fox shrine, a Mongol camp, a haiku, some highwaymen, a fancy sheath for your sword, another fox shrine, and over and over and over. What do I do with all of these haiku emblazoned bandanas?

When I got to the second section of Tsushima I felt I’d exhausted the freshness of exploration. I felt I’d seen all the game had to show me in terms of new discoveries, and it’s not as if the rewards felt worth the journey. Some say it’s more about the journey than the goal, but how much can you really spice up riding your horse about? Even encountering Mongolian road patrols, which initially felt like nice organic encounters, started to feel repetitive and lost their appeal. In the best cases repetitive encounters can be saved by an excellent combat system, but unfortunately Ghost’s combat is a tad blah and must have eaten the same meal that gave the world such a case of bloat.

While fun enough at first combat too becomes formulaic, loses its challenge, and eventually becomes trivial. Jin has four stances which are unlocked progressively throughout the campaign. Each stance is designed to combat a specific enemy type. Swapping stances is fluid, and an element of strategy is necessary especially once you’re dealing with multiple enemy types. It can feel really satisfying to perfectly parry a sword attack, swap stances, turn around, and pummel a shield baring enemy.

Unfortunately, if you spend any reasonable amount of time clearing Mongol camps you’ll have all the stances, and a lot of the combat perks, unlocked after completing the first section of the island. And once you have ghost mode things just get silly. When entering ghost mode any enemy can be sliced down in a single blow, as easily as a tsushi chef cuts some fatty tuna. Throw some ninja gear into the mix and by the start of the third act you’re nearly unstoppable. It can be fun to be unstoppable, I enjoy a silly power fantasy as much as the next person, but it comes too soon and too easily in Ghost. Fortunately, bosses don’t care how fancy your armor is or how many stat points you’ve spent

Boss fights, mini bosses, or any one-on-one battles are consistently the most enjoyable part of Ghost’s combat. Each one-on-one battle required precise timing, and quick assessment of the enemy to determine if you should dodge, parry, or strike. Most importantly for fun factor, each combatant had unique patterns, or some special ability. Some try to overwhelm with force, others try to distract with flashy attacks, and still others would feint to goading me into striking before executing a swift counterattack. Each duel is engaging and enjoyable, and that aspect never wears out its welcome. The story on the other hand struggles with achieving the same level of consistency.

Ghost has a slightly clichéd approach to story and character, which would be perfectly fine if it felt consistently punchy and didn’t beat me over the head with its message. The game tries way too hard to demonstrate the rift within Jin, between how he was raised, and what he feels he must do to drive out the Mongols. What I felt was odd was the game missed an opportunity to change and react based on playstyle and story choices. I somehow got it in my head that if I fought as a Samurai, avoided stealth, challenged the enemy head on, it would somehow influence the outcome of the story. But nope, you will become the Ghost and alienate everyone around you until the final moments where you make a binary choice to get one of two endings…Considering how much of the game emphasized Jin’s inner struggle I found it odd the story was so linear and lacking in response to player behavior. Don’t get me wrong I like the story just fine despite its rather linear approach. It had high points, low points, and points so dull I can’t remember.

Most of the high points in Ghost’s story come from the companion quests. Whether you’re helping Masako in her quest for revenge, Ishikawsa trying to stop his rogue pupil, or helping Yuna and Taka trying to escape the island. You meet characters at challenging points in their lives and see how they all deal with those challenges in different ways. Some of the side missions are wonderful as well, like spending time with your nanny in her final moments, or helping a young man track down a dear friend (who is likely his lover) kidnapped by Mongols. Unfortunately, these high points are few and far between, with most side missions amounting to not much more than fetch quests. The vastness of the world is much to the detriment of the side quest quality due to a lot of filler. I feel if the game world had been scaled down the pacing of the main campaign would have been greatly improved and there would have been fewer fluff side quests.

Ultimately the vast scale of the landscape, not the Mongols, was Tsushima’s greatest enemy. It’s as if the world was conceived first, and everything else was secondary. The main story started strong, and ended strong, but meandered in a thick and bland middle, most side quests felt like filler, and combat became quickly repetitive and eventually trivialized. What’s a real shame is there are great moments in this game that get lost in its size. Dramatically standing off against Mongol highwaymen,frighting friends turned enemy, stunning visuals audio and music, but it was stretched thin and overstuffed with filler; like trying to staple a few chickens together stuffing it full of cheap pre-packaged cornbread mix and calling it a Turkey. No matter how cool Samurais are, how pretty the photo mode is, or how cute those foxes are, Ghost of Tsushima blew its load early showing me almost everything it had to offer in the first 10 hours, then went on for another 30. The game is worth playing, I’d just suggest sticking to the Turkey and skipping the stuffing.

** The following post contains content that discusses death, loss, illness, and spoilers for Final Fantasy X **

I was playing through Final Fantasy X HD remaster on my Switch for the first time when I realized this year will mark the 20th anniversary of Final Fantasy X’s release in the U.S. It was July 19th 2001 when Final Fantasy X was released in Japan for the Playstation 2, only a few months later in December would it release in the U.S. I was 9 at the time, and boy was 2001 a memorable year. George W. Bush began his first term as president, the world trade center fell, the U.S. decided to produce Gulf War 2: The Quest for More Money over in two little known countries called Iraq and Afghanistan. To top all that off my Dad’s CADASIL was taking a turn for the worse. What is CADASIL? I certainly didn’t know when I was 9, but to summarize it has similar symptoms to Alzheimer’s but affects people at much younger ages; for more detail you might want to check with some medical experts, not the guy online reviewing 20 year old Japanese roleplaying video games. Needless to say even at 9 I was up for a little escapism, and boy was Final Fantasy X a virtual comfort when I needed it most.

I got the majority of my exposure to Final Fantasy X indirectly through watching my childhood friend Austin and his older brother Jake play through the game. Glimpses of a colorful fantastical world, with a cast of distinct characters, and an interesting mythos. I was hooked, even if I wasn’t catching the finer details of the plot I adored the universe and used my imagination to fill in blanks where I could. When Austin or his brother would graciously allow me to play I recall not being very good. I would rely on instructions from others, particularly for more challenging encounters. For all intents and purposes, I wasn’t playing the game, I was just holding the controller. At the time, however, I was far more invested in the story and the characters than the moment by moment gampeplay. While I enjoyed the entire main cast, particularly Yuna, Auron, and Khimari, the character I most related to was Tidus which shouldn’t be all that surprising to those familiar with me and the game. First, Tidus was partially developed to target the younger male demographic as a character they would relate to, second, daddy issues. For those who are unfamiliar the game’s big bad, Sin, turns out to be a man named Jecht, the father of protagonist Tidus. Entombed in an unholy armour, Jecht, now Sin, has become a rampaging monster who only occasionally grasps moments of his former sentience. Looking back, I can see why this story had such an impact on my 9 year old self.

My father, who was a strong, intelligence, vivacious man, was being slowly robbed of his faculties by CADASIL. He would experience memory lapses, which would lead to frustration and depression and eventually degraded into anger. He became more volatile, and I started to become afraid. While he never physically harmed my mother, my sister, or myself his desperate rage fueled by confusion and depression was too much for my nine year old self to handle. I wasn’t quite sure what was happening to my father. It pains me to admit that there where times when I felt just like Tidus, I hated my father. I hated how he shouted, how much pain he was causing my family, and his friends. But just like that fictional creature Sin would have moments of calm, I remember how my father would sometimes be himself again; brief moments when the man would shine through the monster. I can say now with the benefit of 20 years wisdom that I did not hate my father, I hated the monster in my father’s skin.

Unlike Tidus, I didn’t get any final goodbyes, any ultimate confrontation. I was never able to share with my father all the fear, anger, sadness, and love I felt for him. I was never able to beat CADASIL in a fantastical confrontation, as the heroes of my beloved video game overcame the ultimate villain of their story. Still, I am grateful for the comfort that Final Fantasy X provided me as a child, as it does now. My experience with Final Fantasy X proved to me at an early age that video games are not just trivial toys, but powerful works of art that can touch people in deeply personal ways, and leave lifelong impressions. Maybe that’s why despite the fact I’m 29 this year, I still cry every time I hear the game’s musical theme “To Zanarkand”. My father never heard that song, but to me it will always be his requiem.

You may or may not have noticed, but I like video games. If I’m being completely honest I want to work in the production of video games and video game technologies as a career. For the past few weeks I’ve been working on a video explaning why I want to work in games, sharing a bit of my history, and showing off some of the work I’ve done. Now the I’ve finished what I’m calling my “Video Cover Letter” I wanted to share it with you all. I’m ready to take the plunge into the next phase of my career. Give it a watch, I hope you enjoy.

Video Cover Letter

Resume

If you made it through my video, why not check out my resume.

Thanks for your time watching the video, and checking out my resume, if you’d like to reach me please email calmo@protonmail.com, DM on twitter @cal_moji, or connect with me on LinkedIn.

-Calvin

I’m struggling with where to start talking about Nier. Do I open with references to its wildly popular successor Nier Automata? Do I discuss the wacky antics or interesting philosophies of the series creator Yoko Taro? DO I share a personal anecdote about how both Nier Automata and Nier (2010) made me cry like a baby? I just don’t know!

Nier is an odd game which is on the one hand unique, on the other a bit derivative and formulaic. It is profound, but also crude. Nier is a mixed bag of elements and experiences but what ties it all together, and makes it stick in my mind, is strong theming.

Nier is juggling a lot of themes; it has more themes than Disney has theme parks. We have got our coming-of-age theme, inevitability of death theme, theme of cycles, disease, body dysmorphia, and the obligatory capital A Anime power of friendship. With so many themes up in the air it’s not surprising the game doesn’t do them all justice (I’m looking at you body dysmorphia, stop staring at me!). While some of the themes are touched on only slightly, and others highlight or drive character development, for me there is only one around which all the others orbit. That theme which is woven tightly into the narrative, as well as all elements of game design: language.

“Blood is sound… Sounds are words… And words are power!”
-Grimoire Weiss

Let’s start with the combat and battle mechanics. Overall I’d describe Nier(2010)’s combat as…adequate. It’s not controller smashingly awful, it’s not great. Cut from a similar cloth as the PS2 era God of War games, Devil May Cry, and probably Drakengard (but I’ve never played Drakengard), Nier’s combat is a mix of light attacks, heavy attacks, blocks, dodges, and specials. Nier’s combat and battle system stands out from its fellow cinematic hack and slash brethren in a few ways. Nier has an interesting magic system which controls like a bullet-time shooter, and it has a semi-configurable upgrade system that uses “words of power”.

Every weapon and special ability can be augments with up to two words. See, language, words, this essay is practically writing itself. The use of words as an upgrade in the combat system goes beyond the surface comparison that words are part of language. Importantly words have power, words can take the otherwise ordinary and make them extraordinary. Think of ancient words of power, mystical incantations, weapons of legend given names and identities. Each of these examples illustrate the power of words in language. In our world words provide soft power, influence, context, meaning. Nier takes that a step further with its words of power which physically alter the properties of weapons and magic. Nier’s words have a real and direct impact on its world.

Speaking of the Magic, have you ever watched Grimoire Weiss closely while casting? When casting a spell, or charging a special attack, Weiss’s pages will flutter rapidly, almost as if someone were reading him. Although it isn’t included in the game, I like to image Weiss is reading himself shouting incantations to fling attacks at our enemies. Much like the grimoires of medieval fantasy it is the words, not the book, which have the power. Without words, Weiss is powerless. We see this for ourselves a few times during the game’s story when Weiss is stripped of his powers, his pages go blank.

Speaking of Weiss’s pages, one of my favorite aspects of the game is that our snobbish Grimoire buddy serves as the game’s primary menu. While Weiss isn’t used for all menu functions, hot swapping weapons, assigning active spells, for example, he serves all other purposes. Managing inventory, equipment, quest journal, and datalog. It is something that’s easy to miss if we’re primarily focused on the function of the menu. But if we stop and think, Weiss being our menu carries more meaning beyond the initial amusement factor.

As we adventure through the game our quests are logged in Weiss, we pick up documents containing key insights into the word and narrative, they are logged in Weiss as well. Words of power, which we collect from killing the game’s enemy, Shades, are logged in Weiss. Weiss is the collection of not only our history, but our understanding of the world, and the power we possess. It is only a collection of words, sounds, images, and other elements of language and communication stored in a vessel, but we see the combined power of those elements. We feel the power of language in the game when we augment our weapons, use magic, or review logs to gain insights. We feel it most of all when the game takes our words away.

Omission is one of Nier(2010)’s most powerful tools, and it uses this tool to demonstrate how missing context, through lack of a common language (or having access to common information), impacts our capabilities, and the ability to understand the big picture. One example of this I mentioned before, when the game occasionally strips Weiss of his powers leaving Nier at a massive disadvantage. It is a thematically appropriate implementation of the video game trope where the player character has some of their abilities taken away and must overcome some obstacle without them. A more powerful example of omission is unveiled during subsequent playthroughs of the Nier, after we have learned the true nature of the Shades, that they were once human.

During the initial playthrough we’d hear the squeaks, squawks, and garbled sounds of the Shade’s. There are even a few cutscenes features shades that appear to be conversing, but they don’t seem to be speaking…not any language we understand anyway. When playing through the same sections during subsequent playthroughs we get subtitles for those dialogues, and we occasionally see a subtitle for a shade chittering out in the open world. Finally, in those subsequent playthroughs, we see a glimpse of the truth; the humanity, sentience, and lives of the shades. Not until we have collected enough of the shade’s words through senseless slaughter in the first playthrough do we start to understand their language.

Subsequent playthroughs present greater emotional challenging when knowing that as the player we still need to cut down shades in order to proceed. It feels like the game is calling us out for being a murdering maniac, and it is daring us to quit. It’s a powerful way to unveil the narrative and highlight how critical the understanding of language is in order to see the truth.

Truths in Nier, as in life, are bittersweet. Nothing is straightforward morally, or ethically black and white. There are no paragons or renegades, no true good or evil. The shades are the real humans, the wolves are defending themselves from extinction, the stone guardian is protecting their friends, Kalil and Beepy just want to see the world, and the Shadowlord is fighting for the only thing he has left. By the end of my final playthrough I didn’t feel like a hero, I felt conflicted. Yes, I achieved my goal, but how many other sentient beings’ dreams, goals, needs, and loved ones were cut down due to my actions. It is a striking and memorable way to deliver a narrative, and it speaks to my personal philosophy that nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

My only real complaint with the handling of the narrative is that while we the payer gain greater awareness through subsequent playthroughs, Nier does not. Nier, in my eyes, comes across as selfish, lacking empathy, and blinded by his goals. Even while Emil, Kainé, and Weiss, start to understand the gravity of what they are doing, Nier continues to charge blindly forward shouting “YONAH” all the way. Still, that does not take way from the power of the game’s ultimate conclusion where the player is asked to sacrifice themselves or Kainé. Upon choosing the more altruistic option all records of Nier (us) are erased. Not just from the memories of the game’s inhabitants but also physically in our world via the save data.

To confirm this self-sacrifice, the player must enter one word, their name, the name chosen at the beginning of play, the ultimate word of power for any individual. After speaking our final word, my favorite moment of the game takes place. Grimoire Weiss automatically opens himself displaying our familiar menu. Page by page every entry is expunged. Every quest, document, key fragment, item, word of power, even the tutorials. Every single word is erased until only a blank book remains. It gives me chills to think how this game that is so tightly theme=d around words and language ends with a systematic erasure of all the words collected and experienced throughout the playthrough.

Nier(2010) is special despite its initial generic hack and slash impressions. Only in one other game, Automata, have I encountered such strong theming which permeates every bit of the design. Not to say its all perfect, some of the word/language themeing can get heavy handed (Forest of Myth), and some of the dialog is a bit awkward, but at least it still tries. So many games today are happy to just let menus be menus, power ups to be power ups, and story exist in some world separate to the gameplay. In Nier everything feels a part of the same philosophy, and for that I feel more engaged. I feel sucked in because I can feel the power in the effort that has been put into the design. Nier is a great game that didn’t get the credit it was due when it first released in 2010. There are many more themes to dive into, and I’m glad Nier has recently been remade so we can keep exploring them together.

In 2017 I was taking a class on project management, studying software development after three years of bouncing between music, international relations, and computer science majors, when I decided to try my hand at making my first game. I should say our hand at making our first game. I wasn’t alone, I had a team of two other classmates. We all knew we wanted to make a video game, everyone on the team were video games lovers, and each had their own tastes. Big ideas were tossed around from an RPG, to a simple shooter, but ultimately we landed on something simple and straightforward. We decided to create our own version of Pong. Why Pong? It was important to us that whatever we were going to create could be made within our course deadline. The course was only five weeks (accelerated summer classes are killer), and being a project management class making the game was one part creative endeavor, one part exercise in seeing a project to its conclusion with a finished product at the end. Pong was something simple we all understood, were confident we could recreate, and could iterate on if time allowed. Having selected the game we were going to make, and determining our roles, the project got underway.

Docs Docs Docs

In addition to being the lead developer I had also been elected as project manager, and I quickly learned the game development process starts much earlier than writing code. My first task was creating a series of documents (remember this was a class, so everything was regimented). There was the project charter, the scoping statement, the team contract, the business case, shall I go on? I was surprised at the number of documents I was generating before we had done any content creation for the game. At times I’d get frustrated, “I just want to make and play this thing!”, but I did find value in the process. Creating the documents helped our team to clarify our vision for the game we wanted to make, it helped us to understand our limitations, and set our expectations. Most importantly, the documents gave us a shared understanding, a common point of reference we could use while collaborating. Considering we were taking the class online and working remotely, having a shared understanding and clarity of purpose was critical. Of course, some of our documents changed and evolved as we got into the actual development process, but having that shared reference never stopped being useful. Almost as useful as the model we were using to develop our project.

Scrum Fun

As this particular project management class was targeting software development students, we were expected to abide by a common dev model: SCRUM. I was elected our Scrum Master, which, if you’re not familiar with the phrase, means I was kind of a schedule, task, and meeting referee. I wasn’t the boss, I didn’t give orders, it was my role to make sure we stuck to SCRUM principles. We held weekly SCRUMs where we would take stock of what he had done, what we were struggling with, what we needed to complete our current tasks, and what was next. As I was also the project manager I’d spend time creating and organizing backlog items, updating our tracking tool (we used Trello), following up with my teammates for status updates, and adjusting as needed. I’m not sure how many project managers have also served as SCRUM masters, but it certainly kept me busy with administrative tasks in addition the programming I was doing for the game. Speaking of the programming let me get into the details of our little pong clone which we initially creatively called “Pong [working title]”.

Choosing an Engine

Before we had even started developing the game on paper the creation of our business case required we specify the game engine we were using. We wanted an industry standard engine that supported deployment on windows and linux, was designed for 3D development, and had a visual scripting language as not all of our team members had traditional coding experience. I recommended Unreal Engine 4 as I had experience working with it during an internship (that’s another story!), and it seemed to meet all of our criteria. With our engine chosen we started designing our pong clone, and since we’d taken on the team moniker “Jedi Masters” (can you tell we liked star wars?) our game needed a new name: “JM Pong”.

Designing JM Pong

Now, I’ll be honest here, we didn’t create any documents to outline what the basic loop of pong would be. Since the team was small, only three people, and we all had a clear understanding of what basic pong was, creating a fully blown design document seemed superfluous. We also took a fly-by-the-seat of our pants approach with our game menus, which in retrospect wasn’t the best choice but it certainly was an educational one. What we did take time to design were some alternate game modes. We designed these to be stretch goals in case we finished our main requirements early. Five alternate game modes were designed, totally six in all: normal, handball, football, hockey, squash, and quidditch. You can read about all the game modes later, but I’ll highlight two of my favorites here:

Football

A multiplayer mode model loosely after football. Player 1’s paddle is positioned on the left side of the screen, player 2’s paddle is positioned on the right. In the center of the screen are a series of ‘lineman’, non player paddles that move up and down a set distance. Each time the ball passes a player paddle their opponent scores three points. The goal is to reach 9 points.

Quidditch

A two player mode model loosely on the fictional sport Quidditch from the Harry Potter series. Each player controls three paddles, in a triangular formation. Near the horizontal limits of the screen are three goals. The object of the game is to strike the goal with the ball. Each time the goal is struck the match is reset.
(for some reason I couldn’t find the diagram I had made back in 2017, I guess it has been lost to the ages…)

With our concepts done we started getting our hands dirty with the Unreal Engine building our pong clone. Our first milestone was simple: create the components necessary for the basic loop of pong. For us that meant creating:

• Two player controlled paddles, one on the left side of the screen one on the right,
• The ball,
• Rigging up the necessary controls for player one (WASD), and player two(arrow keys),
• Setting up the physics for the ball, paddles, and walls.
• Resetting the ball to center after it left the right or left side of the screen

Building JM Pong

Within about a week of scripting with Unreal Blueprints, and creating some basic 3d assets our first milestone was complete. It was functional, but it lacked a lot of key features. Sound effects, music, score keeping, a win condition, menus, settings, and the ability to reset the game without having to close and re-open the application.

Our second milestone was to add some of those key features, score keeping, win condition, basic start menu:

It was coming together nicely, with each sprint (about one week of work for us) it was looking more and more like a finished product.

Third milestone was adding polish and some quality of life features: music, sound effects, a redesigned main menu, a pause menu with settings options for toggling paddle speed, music, sound effects, and background.

JM Pong, the Final Product

At this point our project could have been submitted, but we had about two weeks left in the course, so we decided to implement our stretch goals, the alternate game modes:

Normal Mode

It’s pong! Two player paddles, first player on the left (using WASD), second player on the right (using arrow keys). The object of the game is to knock the ball past your opponent. First player to 10 points wins.
(No diagram for this one, we didn’t feel the need to remake the wheel here)

Handball Mode

A single player mode to practice skill. The player paddle is positioned on the left hand side of the screen, with a solid wall opposite. Each time the ball strikes the wall opposite the player a point Is scored. If the ball passes the player paddle the game is over. The object is to get as high a score as possible.

Football Mode

A multiplayer mode modeled loosely after football. Player 1’s paddle is positioned on the left side of the screen, player 2’s paddle is positioned on the right. In the center of the screen are a series of ‘lineman’, non player paddles that move up and down a set distance. Each time the ball passes a player paddle their opponent scores three points. The goal is to reach 9 points.

Hockey Mode

A multiplayer mode modeled loosely after hockey. Each player controls three paddles that move in unison, a goalie and two defensemen. The object is to score 10 points in the opponent’s goal.

Squash Mode

A two player mode with a twist. Both player’s paddles are positioned on the left side of the screen. The screen is divided horizontally with player 1 occupying the top half, and player 2 occupying the bottom half. Paddle movement is restricted to the respective player’s region. Opposite the players is a solid wall that bounces the ball back, similar handball. The object of the game is to score 10 points in your opponent’s goal, but be careful it is easy to score on yourself!
(No diagram to share here, another one lost ☹)

Quidditch Mode

A two player mode model loosely on the fictional sport Quidditch from the Harry Potter series. Each player controls three paddles, in a triangular formation. Near the horizontal limits of the screen are three goals. The object of the game is to strike the goal with the ball. Each time the goal is struck the match is reset.
(Again, no diagram, that’ll teach me to archive better!)

Looking Back

I was incredibly proud when we submitted our final version of the game for the course. Not only had we completed our main objective of recreating basic pong, but we did it with enough time to fit in our stretch goals as well. It was a humble little game, maybe not that fun for anyone who didn’t make it, but my teammates and I poured ourselves into the project. I can’t speak for the others, but I learned a lot about both developing games, and managing a project. I deepened my knowledge of Unreal Engine, got a crash course in SCRUM, and got hands on experience leading a team and managing a project to its conclusion with a finished product at the end. I learned is that making games isn’t as simple as creating the perfect schedule, writing a full-proof set of documents, writing the best code, or creating interesting art and sound assets. Gaming projects, and I guess all projects by extension, require vision, clarity, and constant communication and collaboration. I feel the most valuable thing I did as project manager was to facilitate and encourage our team to keep communicating, stay open minded, be flexible, and never be afraid to ask for help. We were all in it together after all.

Making JM Pong was a great experience, and considering it was my first completed gaming project, I consider myself fortunate. It’s been enjoyable reflecting on JM pong and sharing my experiences with you. I hope you found something useful, or at lest interesting, and I appreciate your time and company in reminiscing. I plan to continue cataloging my development experiences here, not all of them were completed like JM pong, but they all taught me something. Check back soon for another chapter in my game development story.