Concrete versus Abstract

Philosophically, I find that there are many parallels between games and literature.  Some games are very explicit in their narrative (such as most role-playing games) while others are a bit more esoteric.  Chess, for example, has an implicit narrative, though it is not much explored in the scope of the game.  It is simply a given that kings war with one another, and the motivation therein is largely irrelevant.

The more abstract a game is, the more obscure the narrative... or the more non-fictional it becomes.  For example, poker seems to have no narrative at all, yet watching people play can be very engaging because the players themselves are the narrative.
Perhaps that approach is insufficient as well.  Perhaps it is not a linear gradation, but a planar one.  There are some games, such as "capture the flag" that have a concrete objective as well as a non-fictional narrative.

Below is a chart to illustrate the point.  As I was working on it, I had trouble coming up with anything for the extreme Fictional/Abstract spot.  Perhaps this is just a short-coming on my own part, but I think perhaps it is illustrative.

I was tempted to put immersive "sandbox" games (like WoW or Little Big Planet) in this spot, but I had to resist on these grounds: When the game becomes narrative (for instance, when the player in WoW gets involved in the plot), it does so to introduce concrete objectives.  This is most often done in the form of "quests," but - as in the case of WoW - an expansion may have a larger narrative, the concrete goal of which is usually to kill the "Boss" of that expansion.

LBP on the other hand, is in some sense, immersive, but it really occupies a spot between fictional and non-ficitional, because there is no real narrative that drives the game.  It is about the interaction of the player (as the player or even as a level designer) with the fictional sack-people.

What does this tell us?  I think that for a game to exist, people need cognitive anchors.  The more the game exists in "our world" the more abstract its goals can be.  However, a highly narrative without a concrete goal simply leaves the player saying, "Okay... so... now what?"

There is more to discuss about the value of "representation" in making cognitive anchors, which we will explore in later posts.

Questions for Testers: Designer Debriefing

In my previous post, I suggested a design philosophy that I try to incorporate in my games: Simplicity of Play and Depth of Strategy.


It should be noted that this is not the template for making "a good game."  Lots of "good games" don't adhere to this philosophy at all.  For instance, D&D does NOT aim for simplicity.  You need several books, tons of peripherals (maps, multiple types of dice, miniatures, informational sheets, etc) and one expert (the DM) to basically mediate the entire experience.  Is it a good game?  Absolutely.  In fact, not only is it testing well in longevity, but it has served as the template and inspiration of multiple genres.  I don't think it is a far stretch to say that D&D did for gaming what The Lord of the Rings did for fictional literature.


But, I digress.  The point is, the above philosophy is somewhat narrow and personal.  If you're interested in making good games, you don't have to adhere to that standard.  So, I thought I'd share some more "universal" tools for evaluating a game-in-process.


I think the best metric for the health of a game design is enjoyment.  The only way to gauge enjoyment is to ask people who have played the game.  The challenge here is that "enjoyment" is an effect, not a component of the game.  So to really dig out what is working (or not working) in a game, it is good to see what elements are contributing or detracting from the enjoyment of the game.  I find that a quick debrief with testers after the game can be vital to tuning a game from okay to good to "when can we play again?"


Caveat: No game appeals to everyone.  Some people you may test with might not like the game because it's just not their kind of game.  Figuring out what kinds of gamers will like your game is crucial in making good design choices.

Alright, so here is a list of some of the types of questions I ask of my testers to determine what is making the fun and what is killing the fun:

How was your overall experience? This may not always get the most honest answers if your testers are friends.  They may try to be nice, and that's not always helpful.  Still though, this is a good warm-up question, and once people are used to offering critique will in the long-run become more helpful.

Was anything in the game unclear? This is a technical question, and it's important that you listen to it as such.  However, this is also a way of targeting frustration (which I consider the prime enemy of enjoyment in gaming).

What felt particularly good?  What didn't feel quite right? These are not necessarily technical questions.  But, over all, these are the most important ones because it really helps separate what works from what doesn't.  Sometimes they are mathematical ("I think the barbarian is just hitting too hard"), sometimes they are aesthetic ("I really like the new counters.  Much easier to read.").  Sometimes, they will be maddeningly unhelpful ("I dunno... I just didn't like it that much").  

How was the pacing?  This question may need to be asked in different ways, but what you are secretly asking is "did I ever let you get bored?"  In most cases, it is difficult to make a game too fast, but very easy to make a game too slow.  Also, it is worth noting that in most games, pace increases as player familiarity increases.  This may not be a helpful question in your first session, but it should always be on your mind.

Who do you think would like this game?  More than anything, if someone is able to answer this question you've probably done something right: your game has a flavor.  If the crowd they describe is different than the target you had in mind, you've hit a crossroads.  Either you need to change course to hit your target, or you need to redefine your target.  Whichever you choose, you'll probably be doing some revision before the next session.

Let me leave you with a few closing thoughts about this process:

• Don't make "knee-jerk" changes.  Sometimes players are unlucky or just don't grasp a concept immediately.  Look for patterns of problems rather than isolated cases.  Make small corrections rather than big ones until you hit the balance you're aiming for.
• The more specific the responses you receive, the better.  It's okay to ask testers to go a little deeper in their responses, but be gentle and considerate and don't make them feel bad if they can't come up with more.
• Finally, never forget that testers are doing you a favor. In all things be gracious to them.

Dragons, Go, and the new Tic Tac Toe

As a game designer, I strive in most of my efforts to adhere to this two part philosophy: Simplicity of Play and Depth of Strategy. This two-part maxim serves as a balancing force in my games. The easiest means of increasing Depth is to bloat the game: add more rules, more choices, more math, more... whatever. The easiest means of simplifying play is to make things arbitrary (either by lessing the consequences of choices, or by increasing Chance as a game mechanic).

Now, I try to pay due respect to those games that have lasted for a long time. I think longevity is one of the best benchmarks of how good a game is (regardless of how you define "good"). If people keep playing, you've done your job right.

Having said that, I have to say that I don't like Tic Tac Toe. Sure, it's been around for a very long time, but there is something unsatisfying about it. It certainly appeals to the principle of Simplicity, but it lacks any real Depth. The fact is, there is a means of mastering the game. When two "masters" play eachother, it is impossible for the one who plays first to lose. The fact of the matter is that the game is only satisfying for those who do not fully understand it.

For this reason, Tic Tac Toe is relegated to the realm of "children's games." There is nothing wrong with that, to be sure. But, the ease of play was very appealing to me. All you need to play is a paper, a pencil, and the most basic of fine motor skills. It's "a thing to do" when you're waiting, or bored. It's simple to pick up and the games are short.

So, I decided to craft a game that would maintain the positives of Tic Tac Toe, while attempting to address it's major short fall. Here's what I came up with:

Dragons

Players: 2

Objective: Make the biggest chains (dragons).

Instructions:

Draw a 6x6 grid (count boxes, not lines).

Each player is assigned 2 symbols. (I prefer player 1 to have A and B, player 2 Y and Z)

Players alternate turns. On each turn the player must fill one box with each of their symbols. Play ends when all boxes are filled. Like symbols that directly connect (i.e. NOT diagonally), are considered linked up (forming a dragon). A dragon can be any shape (you do not have to be able to make a circuit out of it. Touching means connection, period.)

Scoring:

Determine the longest dragon for each symbol; all other boxes are ignored for scoring. Players are awarded one point for each link in his/her longest dragons. The player with the most points wins.

So... The wording above is maybe more convoluted than I'd like. Unfortunately, it's the kind of thing that everyone seems to get after their first game. All the same, I'm pleased with how it plays. It was inspired in some part by Go, as it uses the same rules of connectivity, and the concept of "liberties" can be valuable in this game as well. In fact, "dragon" is a term for a very long group in Go, hence the name of the game.

Maybe I'll whip up a sample game in another post for illustrative purposes, but I am kind of disappointed that the instructions don't seem to quite stand on their own.