Making video games, large and small
I have been thinking a lot about game development over the last week or so. Not really the large scale Molyneux-saves-the-world-of-art type stuff, but the nuts and bolts. Getting a game together into a rough, basic shape, and how it works.
A few weeks ago a student came to me to talk about video games. He wants to be a video game writer, and I am one of the professors here actively interested in video games. We talked a bit and I gave him what little advice I had to give; most of it amounted to encouragement for him to make things, and go and find people who will make things with him.
People talk a lot about indie games and it's easy to throw the word "revolution" around - but I do think it's merited. From my point of view, as a college professor who wants to use games to talk about history, and who is more than happy to help students deepen their love of games and perhaps work on them in the future, indie games are a godsend. The games space - maybe community is a better word, I don't know - is enriched immeasurably by the sheer quantity of incredible work.
As my student and I talked I booted up my work computer to show him a couple of classics made by very small teams, or even by individuals: Stardew Valley, Kentucky Route Zero, In Other Waters. My point being, this young man can do this. In truth, anyone can do it.
For a few years now I have taught a class on History and Video Games. The "and" is important; I always feel like a bit of an academic pedant by stressing it, but we are talking about how video games interact with and/or reflect their creators' understanding of history or their place in historical context. The history of games is actually not as useful for what I want to do. This is a philosophy underpinning all the work at History Respawned, as well.
In the classroom, talking about video games this way is particularly empowering when you have students create their own games. I have worked with different models in the past - the link above is a little out of date because I realized in more recent classes that the time they spent blogging or working towards web content could be better spent creating game content - but the constant has remained the creation of something, whether it be a very short game or a demo-like opening chapter to something possibly larger.
The next obvious step, which in truth should have begun by now, is to have students publish their work. I’ve done this before with podcasts:
It is incredibly empowering, and gives people a lot of motivation. We have showcases here on campus in which we have participated. But I want the students to be able to share their work publicly. Of course, we have a perfect outlet: Itch.
So with all that in mind, I have been brushing up on coding skills mostly forged during work with students on Raspberry Pis [history bots] and have bounced around between languages: C#, C++, even Kotlin (hey, it seems fun) before returning back to Python. It's unlikely I will insist on my students using their own code rather than an existing engine - I typically teach the course during an intensive 16 day January term, and they have done amazing things with RPGMaker even in that time - but I want a deeper understanding, myself, of how games can be made from scratch by small teams. Or by one person.
A good example of this is one of the two games I've spent most time with this week: Roadwarden, a kind of interactive text RPG with some strong writing and a very welcoming retroesque color palette. A little bit of digging quickly revealed the game was made with the help of Ren'Py, a visual novel game engine written in Python. The game's developers Moral Anxiety Studios made a beautiful, ostensibly simple game with what some people might consider basic tools. It is also excellent, and don't just take my word for it.
I also appreciate developer Aureus, the consistent core of Moral Anxiety Studios, in talking about the creation of a project like this and the very real anxieties around putting something out into the world. Especially if you are hoping to make some money from it, so you can make more. You can read a fascinating interview with Aureus here.
I see my students in an interview like this. A big part of working in education is helping people understand their potential, and encouraging them not to underestimate themselves. Increasingly I find myself asking students to acknowledge what they have already done, and what they have shown they can accomplish.
Part of the issue of course is that the landscape of available games is just so vast now. The other game I've spent time on this week is somewhat different to Roadwarden in terms of its scope, goals and production budget: Hideo Kojima's Death Stranding.
Yet Death Stranding has something in common with Roadwarden: both games are directly focused on the power of theme and a clear sense of connection between visual art, writing, and player experience. I suppose you could say that about almost any video game, at least one you think is good. But there is something in common here, a sense of peace or commune with the game that both sets of developers are encouraging you to enter.
I find it reassuring, and it invigorates my love of the medium. It gives me ideas, too, of how best to encourage younger people who want to create their own art. I guess we are going to have to start making stuff.
I'll leave you for now, though I might warn you there is likely more to come on Death Stranding in the near future. We will see how far my adventures in coding get.