Author: Álex Hernández

When I grow old I will make games

Do it yourself

If I want to make games, what do I have to do?

Just as if you want to work on any other activity, there’s only one way: become a professional. That means you’ll have to work hard, to study and to practice.

As the industry grows (and they already say it moves more money than movies or music), more courses pop up that address videogames especifically. I cannot recommend any in particular as I don’t have any references, but some Google searches should offer results for your area. As in any new business model, you’ll come across amateurs wanting to make easy money by lack of competition and true professionals trying to consolidate the industry. Ask for references on the faculty and study the offers throughly before handing out your money.

The problem is that in most cases, companies will not know either if the course you’ve studied is worth anything or not. So in order to prove your worth, practice will be more useful. Cancel your suscription to the popular magazine that only copypastes the distributors’ press releases (by the way, it’s most of them) and find publications with a critical eye that not only sell titles but also analyze the industry. Find the odd book on the subject and dip in. Play all kinds of genres on all available platforms and analyze those games, their merits and flaws, the twists that work, the cheap tricks, how they came to be at all.

But above all, mingle with people with the same interests and make games. The best item in your CV for a company is a finished piece of work. Illustrators don’t get assignments through the promise of their sketches: you’ll want to present full games.

What are you talking about, full games? All I know is how to write! Ah, nobody said it was easy! You’ll have to learn more. Tomorrow I’ll tell you what, and more importantly why.

Who writes the game?

Yesterday we mentioned how teamwork imposes limitations on the videogame writer. Today we’ll explore the topic.

We can understand the issue by looking at how movies are made. A script needs many pairs of hands to make a writer’s ideas become real settings, costumes, sounds, colours, performances, camera angles, cuts, soundtrack and so on and so forth. Along that path, depending on time and budget costraints and the wishes of the director and producers, the result may largely depart from the original script. In fact, as we said yesterday, quite often a movie’s production is decided upon marketing reasons (remakes, franchises, etc.) and then the script is not so much the spark of the project anymore as just a cog in the machine. Do you remember that story about Kevin Smith being forced to include a giant spider in his script for Superman Returns? The video is long but worth every second.

Something similar happens with videogames, only worse, because the writer often works in parallel to the development team, or even joins the project in its later stages. There were cases when an author was approached with a fully-finished game (level 1 takes place in a mine and the final boss is a zombie, level 2 is on the moon and the final boss is a yellow octopus…) and then asked to write a story that brought it all together.

We must take into account that the game industry is so young that the figure of the writer didn’t even exist until rather recently. Stories and texts were written by the (small) development teams themselves. As the teams grow, tasks get specialized but still today, a small indie developer, say 3 to 8 people programming for iPhone or Wiiware, won’t have a writer in their ranks. The bigger the project, the more likely they’ll have some people devoted only to writing, but also the more tensions they’ll suffer regarding budget, schedule and even intentions. On the top of the scale you have the latest issues of sagas like Metroid, GTA, Metal Gear Solid or ScarCraft, which will have their big creative star on top and a small team of writers to fill in the gaps at his orders.

So if I want to write videogames, where do I fit in all of this? Let’s talk about it tomorrow.

What is “writing” in a game?

The people from Extra Credits offer an answer:

What is writing in a game? It’s what the characters say in cutscenes and dialogue boxes. It’s those voice tabs that characters shout out during combat. It’s also the background chatter that characters expell as the player passes by. It’s the words in the options menu, and the loading screens. It’s the flavour text describing guns or equipment or alien bases… OK, so it’s  alot of things. But I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s notthe high concept. It’s not the idea behind the game. Few games ever start with a fully baked story that the developer is itching to tell, much less a complete script.

Writers don’t decide the concept of the game because in most cases, the game designer will be the person to think through and decide the setting, the mechanics and, surely, the most important traits of the story and its characters. That means the story is half-written before the writer jumps in (just like in Hollywood when a producer greenlights a remake, sequel or adaptation – the movie is already decided before the scriptwriter is hired). Thus the writer becomes part of a huge team – the video does actually review some of the difficulties of game writers’ within the cogs of the industry – but we’ll talk about teamwork tomorrow. The challenge that videogames face today is wider than that: they need to define how they can tell their stories.

Games can’t tell their story through disconnected segments of gameplay strung together by cutscenes. Games need to tell their story through the gameplay. Narrative should trip from every texture, and be integrated into every facet of the world. It should come through in the menus, in the interface, and in every loading screen. But most importantly of all it should come through in the mechanics of the game. The mechanics should teach us about the characters and reinforce the plotline. They should fundamentally attune the player to their character, and let them explore their character’s actions.

Doesn’t that contradict what they said at the beginning? If writers don’t decide the concept or mechanics of a game, how can they narrate through it?

Well that’s the big question isn’t it.

Happy birthday, Mario

Activities will surely last for the whole of the Christmas season, but it is today that Nintendo and the world celebrate Mario 25th anniversary. That makes it a good day to start discussing writing for videogames in our workshop, a new, unknown and exciting field.

Mario is proof that you don’t need great texts or great stories to make an exciting videogame: princess kidnapped by ugly monster plus hero to the rescue are enough excuse. It’s more than others offer: the basic Pong or the classic Tetris don’t even need that much.

But what happens when our game wants to tell a story? Or when we want to tell a story through a game? (I guess it’s not the same, is it?). The answer, my friends… we’re still working on it.

Cinema was born as a Carnivàle show, and took a while to find its own language. As the technical posibilites expanded (sound, colour… and now 3D), the grammer of that language grew richer. Videogames have followed a similar process, only faster: while techonology allows high quality sounds and graphics and all kinds of control systems, interactivity in narration is stillin its infancy. Indeed it’s the most fashionable topic among professionals in the industry. There are memorable cases of great novelists hired to script games who failed miserably because they didn’t know anything about the medium they were writing for.

During the next few days we’ll start our approach to the topic.

Class notes

DVDGo
Casa Del Libro
Amazon UK
Shopping

A simple question today from “Señor Nox”:

I’d like to ask you for the titles of the books you recommended in the podcast regarding the art of writing.

As the podcast is only available in Spanish, I think it’s interesting to list here the books that have been more thoroughly discussed so that everyone can catch up.

I’m reluctant to recommend Card lately because he has turned out a campaigning homophobe, therefore I’ll try to keep adding new titles soon so you can skip his.

I’d like to remind you that if you do your purchases on DVDGo, Casa del Libro or Amazon UK through the links provided here, a small commission will go to this Writing Workshop to help cover the site costs, which would be highly appreciated by yours truly.

New!

Danger! Author armed!

Here concludes the monographic week devoted to Frank McCourt, I hope you liked it. If you intend to purchase the books, I’d like to remind you that by doing so through the links we provide, a small commission will reach this website and help support the Writing Workshop.

This week also served to kick off two new experiments:

  • First, the less evident of them: the use of my own photography to illustrate the posts. Indeed the images from Thursday and Friday are my own work. Like everybody else these days, I’ve been using Google Images too often, and I was getting tired of the impersonal copy-paste. The workshop deals with words so sometimes it’s hard to think of an image that adds anything, but at the same time I think the site looks nicer with pics, so I hope by using my own photos the selection of images will be, perhaps not more relevant, but at least more personal.
  • The second novelty of the week was obviously, the monography itself, or the series of posts, or the episodic article, however you like to call it. The next series will be ready very soon, and I would suggest you to call in your comic-fan friends… I will say no more for now.

Finally, a little reminder: we are still tweaking the website quite often. Due to this, it’s possible that the audios of our podcast have been duplicated in your iTunes – sorry about the inconvenience. If that is your case and you wish to free that space, you only need to delete the duplicate entries – the feed will continue to work normally. If you find any other problem, like missing images or broken links, please let us know through the contact form. Thank you all, and have a nice weekend!

Dead fathers III, the living grandpa

Mr. McCourt, you’re lucky. You had that miserable childhood so you have something to write about. What are we gonna write about? All we do is get born, go to school, go on vacation, go to college, fall in love or something, graduate and go into some kind of profession, get married, have the two point three kids you’re always talking about, send the kids to school, get divorced like fifty percent of the population, get fat, get the first heart attack, retire, die.

Jonathan, that is the most miserable scenario of American life I’ve heard in a high school classroom. But you’ve supplied the ingredients of the great American novel. You’ve encapsulated the novels of Theodore Dreiser, Sinclair Lewis, F. Scott Fitzgerald.

They said I must be joking.

This is the big difference between genre fiction and literary fiction. In literary fiction the content doesn’t matter as much as the vision. If you can portray everyday events in a unique way, like only you can express them, you’ve earned a place in writer’s heaven.

So go out, live life, unplug the antenna from the TV and do everything that Jonathan says and quite a lot more besides, as much as you can. And if you still want more things to experience, take over everbody else’s life.

Image of the "Rent Collection Courtyard" sculpture group exhibited at Schirn Museum, Frankfurt (2009)

So, sit with your grandmother. Let her tell her story. All the grandmothers and grandfathers have stories and if you let them die without taking down their stories you are criminal. Your punishment is banishment from the school cafeteria.

Yeah. Haw, haw.

Parents and grandparents are suspicious of this sudden interest in their lives. Why you asking me so many questions? My life is nobody’s business, and what I did I did.

What did you do?

Nobody’s business. Is it that teacher again? […]

Others come in with stories of how they ask their elders one question about the past and the dam bursts and the old people won’t stop talking, going on till bedtime and beyond, expressing heartache and tears, yearnings for the Old Country, declaring love for America. Family relationships are rearranged. Grandpa isn’t taken for granted by sixteen-year-old Milton anymore.

In World War II Grandpa had adventures you wouldn’t believe. Like he fell in love with the daughter of an SS officer and nearly got killed for it. […] All these years Grandpa sits in the corner and I never talked to him and he never talked to me. His english still isn’t good but that’s no excuse. Now I have him on my tape recorder and my parents, my parents for Christ’s sakes, are saying, Why bother?

Even us, writers, are like our Grandpas: we don’t believe our stories matter. Do they matter? McCourt’s story mattered, his books selling by the millions.

Write on. You’re next.