Autobiographical Game Writing
Many authors write about their personal experiences -- a trip to Paris, the love of their lives, a funny drunken moment. Why not write about experiences from within games in the same style? After all, a game world is just another place in which life happens... a virtual Louvre or a virtual Central Park if you will.
Gamers often talk about games in an almost Zen manner, describing gameplay as intensely personal. "You can't capture the essence of a game without playing it," we say. "Watching me play or hearing me describe it will sound boring -- you actually have to play it." This kind of thinking denies the humanity of games. It implies that gaming is some kind of base physical experience, like a drug, that cannot be described or shared only experienced. This is obviously not the case, as people have fallen in love in-game, been scammed in-game, and made friends in-game. These experiences are all the fodder of "real world" writing. What difference does it make if these experiences occurred via computer? After all, Cyrano won love through letters -- games provide all of the power of letters and more.
Writing about in-game experiences from a personal point of view captures the essence of a game in a way that no review or analysis could otherwise provide. In a way, in-game experience writing is the most powerful advertising possible. It doesn't just capture the visuals of a game, like a screenshot does, but it captures the essence, emotion, and thought of the moment. As an added benefit, autobiographical game writing is easily palatable by even non-gamers, allowing it to reach a wide audience.
Additionally, such writing injects into the shared consciousness of gamers the pinnacle of experience and the powerful possibilities of a game, which heightens the experience for all gamers. We read of travel writers falling in love on the streets of Paris. When we visit Paris, do we actually expect to fall in love? No, but the idea exists, making our experience sweeter, even if it is not the same. The same can happen with games and game writing.
Gaming is a personal experience. However, as games become more powerful and begin to embody deep human experience, even an abstraction of the gaming experience, in the form of writing or even documentaries, can become powerful proxies. It may sound strange, but I'm looking forward to reading about "1337 haxor's Story of Personal Loss in Middle Norrath."
Here's a very well written example of in-game experience writing: http://www.alwaysblack.com/blackbox/bownigger.html The game, JKII, serves as a proxy for the very human experience of racism and good vs. evil. The fact that the experience occurs in a game is secondary and serves only to add to the human experience. Strange in-game conventions are explained to the reader, much as a travel writer would explain the strange customs of a foreign land. These conventions add flavor and spices up the otherwise traditional story of the underdog beating the racist bad guy who is expected to win. (I don't mean to imply that the story is "bad" because it is "traditional." Rather, by saying "traditional" I mean to say that the story is understood and shared by most people.)
Gamers often talk about games in an almost Zen manner, describing gameplay as intensely personal. "You can't capture the essence of a game without playing it," we say. "Watching me play or hearing me describe it will sound boring -- you actually have to play it." This kind of thinking denies the humanity of games. It implies that gaming is some kind of base physical experience, like a drug, that cannot be described or shared only experienced. This is obviously not the case, as people have fallen in love in-game, been scammed in-game, and made friends in-game. These experiences are all the fodder of "real world" writing. What difference does it make if these experiences occurred via computer? After all, Cyrano won love through letters -- games provide all of the power of letters and more.
Writing about in-game experiences from a personal point of view captures the essence of a game in a way that no review or analysis could otherwise provide. In a way, in-game experience writing is the most powerful advertising possible. It doesn't just capture the visuals of a game, like a screenshot does, but it captures the essence, emotion, and thought of the moment. As an added benefit, autobiographical game writing is easily palatable by even non-gamers, allowing it to reach a wide audience.
Additionally, such writing injects into the shared consciousness of gamers the pinnacle of experience and the powerful possibilities of a game, which heightens the experience for all gamers. We read of travel writers falling in love on the streets of Paris. When we visit Paris, do we actually expect to fall in love? No, but the idea exists, making our experience sweeter, even if it is not the same. The same can happen with games and game writing.
Gaming is a personal experience. However, as games become more powerful and begin to embody deep human experience, even an abstraction of the gaming experience, in the form of writing or even documentaries, can become powerful proxies. It may sound strange, but I'm looking forward to reading about "1337 haxor's Story of Personal Loss in Middle Norrath."
Here's a very well written example of in-game experience writing: http://www.alwaysblack.com/blackbox/bownigger.html The game, JKII, serves as a proxy for the very human experience of racism and good vs. evil. The fact that the experience occurs in a game is secondary and serves only to add to the human experience. Strange in-game conventions are explained to the reader, much as a travel writer would explain the strange customs of a foreign land. These conventions add flavor and spices up the otherwise traditional story of the underdog beating the racist bad guy who is expected to win. (I don't mean to imply that the story is "bad" because it is "traditional." Rather, by saying "traditional" I mean to say that the story is understood and shared by most people.)
