Not long ago, I finalized a straightforward action on my smartphone, transferring funds to acquire the gaming project I was the lead writer for. Being a author behind a bestselling book adapted into a popular streaming show, people might wonder: what am I doing buying a gaming studio?
The answer, the project is exceptional. It began as a community-funded idea and grew into a supportive player base. More importantly, its fundamental design is distinctive: it's a game designed for fitness. Users immerse themselves to narratives from a post-apocalyptic world via earbuds, which encourages them to run further. Far from being mindless fun, this is a game that genuinely promotes users be healthier.
Gameplay is deeply focused on storytelling. The initial idea was a conversation about how to make running more fun. The proposal was simple: "What if a scenario where you are pursued by the undead?" That spark the project was born.
When playing, you are more than an exerciser; you are the hero. Every run has a goal: gathering supplies, rescuing survivors, investigating mysteries. The priority has always been on high-quality storytelling. This focus pays off. The community often report forming strong attachments to the cast, feeling laughter and sometimes tears while on the move.
"Storytelling in video games is often discussed in terms of scale—'over 100 hours,' 'a million words.' Think of selling a novel by highlighting its page count. That's not how you tell a great tale."
The right approach is to present the hook. Pitch a situation that immediately captures attention: "A person comes home to find a claimant occupying their home, insisting they are their spouse. And then, things shift further..." That builds curiosity. (Incidentally, describes a superb novel by an author who, notably, also designs her own video games.)
Therefore, now that I lead a company, what is the plan? My conviction is to return to the fundamentals. Today, there is a prevalent belief in the industry that AI language models can replace storytellers. I believe this leads to a road to increasingly poor writing.
Automated writing may be suitable for standardized content or assisting experts articulate ideas. But crafting a narrative is inherently different. It is a deep exchange between human minds. We need tales to feel connection, to see our own experiences reflected in others, to partake in common emotions of humor and sorrow. This unique power comes from the idiosyncratic, unreplicable work of a human mind.
Furthermore, this game's world has always been specific values. It does not celebrate a loner ideology where a solo hero triumphs alone. In this world, as in reality, success depends on teamwork and community.
Moving forward, while action-packed survival narratives will remain, there is also different kinds of adventures. Perhaps a series about collecting materials to build a complex model; or bringing back to life a neglected green space; or establishing a traveling library while solving a puzzling case. Ultimately, these themes of rebuilding feel especially relevant in our current era.
Marketing story by the yard rather than by its core idea is, I believe, a sign of lack of confidence in the art form. We should not feel this way. Gaming constitute the biggest industry globally. To command respect, we must begin to value ourselves. Stop talking about the width. Begin talking about the substance.
Featured Pick: What to Play
Marking the 20th anniversary of a classic gaming console, players frequently recall beloved games like the addictive twin-stick shooter Geometry Wars. If you're yearning for a comparable rush, look no further than Evil Egg.
It's a frenetic shooter boasting gorgeous retro graphics and audio. The objective is simple: shoot all enemies, activate a boost ability, and collect health to survive. Initially, the screen is a chaotic rainbow of colors, but patterns become clear as you unlock powerful weapons like an orbital energy blade.
Evil Egg is refined, exhilarating, visually wild, and demonstrates a brilliant understanding of its genre. It is free on digital platforms, and purchasing it directly is encouraged.
Available on: PC
Estimated playtime: 10-plus hours
Selected Reading: What to Read
The recently art game Horses, which faced bans from digital storefronts, has sparked considerable analysis. A particularly engaging piece examines the game through the perspective of artistic theory and lived experience, connecting academic thought with a profound personal reaction.
The best historical writing often reassesses misunderstood games. Was a infamously panned port of Pac-Man truly the most terrible? An insightful reappraisal suggests it might be a misunderstood minimalist masterpiece, challenging conventional opinions.
Likewise, it's valuable to see a legend like the cabinet shooter Time Crisis praised in new ways. An interesting look back links the game's structure and rhythm to seminal films, providing a richer understanding than simple genre comparison.
Quick Clicks
An assessment of a skateboarding game that turns a dark setting into a skater's paradise.
An exploration of the debate surrounding the removed title Horses, questioning if its reputation is fully warranted.
A critical review on a film adaptation of a popular horror game, deeming it a significant misstep.
Community Corner
A reader asks: "An elderly relative is coming and is curious to see today's visuals. Can you suggest games with beautiful locations to explore without combat? We have a current-gen and a capable PC."
Suggestion: Your best bet is to select a vast sandbox game and simply navigate to a peaceful region. With a game subscription service, you could access gorgeous titles like Cyberpunk 2077, Marvel's Spider-Man, Ghost of Tsushima, or Assassin's Creed Valhalla, all of which offer incredible views relatively early on.
For zero danger altogether, consider a driving title like Forza Horizon 4 on PC, which allows you tour familiar scenery. Or, if stylized charm is the aim, relaxing independent experiences such as Tchia, Journey, or Firewatch offer safe and
