The Sparkling Line of Time – Zamanın Kıvılcım Saçan Çizgisi

Berbard Suits says that the only reason why we obey to the rules of a game is that it makes possible such game. We stick with the rules for the game’s sake, and a game has no other purpose than itself. A human being  doesn’t need anyone else in order to play with the world, it doesn’t need to “communicate” with anyone; it can let itself go into transitions from modality to modality, from game to game, without ever feeling the need to signal that such transition takes place. More than that, as a game, the world doesn’t need any player, not even “me” who feels so special when playing with it. The moment in which we realize this, is the moment in which we seem to grasp the world’s being-for-itself, seem to grasp the simultaneous presence and absence of our “relation” to it, and find ourself enchanted by this discovery. We might therefore say that play starts with the presence of presence, the being there of the ”being there”; it is a way to sense presence – sense as both feeling and meaning. The playing human, in all its solitude, experiences something that I would like to call the “sparkling line of time”: This is the interfacing of two surfaces -that of ourselves and that of the world- through which we experience the vessel as time. Just like putting a finger on a dusty surface to let it glide over it, and looking at the emerging line on the dusty plane, and at the dust that builds up at the tip of our finger, simultaneously revealing and burying a secret. Or like the pen I stare at, and the many traces I left, as I put my final mark on this paper – in sheer wonder of how it’s possible at all, yet happening.

“Bir oyunun” diyor Bernard Suits, “getirdiği kısıtlara uymamızın, oyunu mümkün kılmak dışında bir amacı yoktur”. Oyuna oyun uğruna uyarız ve bu nedenle de oyunun oyundan başka amacı yoktur. İnsan, dünyayla böyle bir oyuna dalmak için kendinden başka kimseye ihtiyaç duymaz, kendinden başka kimseyle alışverişte bulunmak zorunda değildir, varlığının kipindeki değişiklikleri kimseye duyurmadan temas halinde olduğu dünyayla bir kipten diğerine, bir oyundan diğerine geçebilir. Dahası, kendi oluş haliyle oyun-olarak-dünya, hiç bir insana, şu an oynamakta olan ben’e dahi gereksinim duymaz. Bunu anlar gibi olduğumuz an, onun mutlak kendi-için-oluşunun sınırına dayandığımız, onun ve kendi oluşumuzun, onunla, eşzamanlı olarak var olan ve var olmayan “ilişki”mizin kendini ele vermezliğinin büyüsüne kapıldığımız andır. Öyleyse oynamak için belki de şunu demeliyiz: Varlıkla, varoluşla, “burada oluş” denen boşlukla başa çıkmanın, eşzamanlı olarak onu duyumsamanın ve ona anlam biçmeyi denemenin bir yoludur oynamak. İnsanın tek başına, kendi kendine dünyayla oynaması, benim “zamanın kıvılcım saçan çizgisi” olarak adlandırmak istediğim bir şeye denk düşer: Bu, iki yüzeyin -varlığımızın yüzeyiyle, dünyanın yüzeyinin- kesişme noktasında, varlığı, varlığın mekanını, zaman olarak, temastan başka bir şey olmayan bir zaman çizgisi olarak deneyimlememizdir: Tıpkı parmağımızı tozlu bir yüzeyin bir noktasına bastırıp onu o yüzey boyunca kaydırmamız, bunu yaparken tozlu yüzeyde oluşan çizgiyle parmak ucumuzda biriken toza bakıp, onda bir sırrın aydınlanışını -ve yitişini- görmek gibi. Ya da, bu çalışmanın son noktasını kağıda yerleştirirken, elimde tuttuğum kalemle onun bırakmış olduğu onca ize hayret içinde bakmam gibi.

Digging deep into research!

Where is the border between researcher and object of research? We faced this classical paradox during our participatory observation in Minecraft! ;)

Mini Game Jam

We’ve decided to hold a mini game jam this weekend with a close circle of friends. Here are some pics!

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We’re hoping to have a digital prototype of our game in a few hours…

Game Idea #45

Game Idea #45 is inspired by the art of Paula Sanz Caballero. Here comes…

Stitch 

or, The Fabric Nightmares are Made of.

The world of Stitch is an illusionary 3D world in which visuals (textures, characters, figures and ground, UI elements etc) are made of 2D fabric and fibers (wool, cotton, linen etc). Its fabric nature gives it some distinct features that we cannot observe in other video game worlds.

In Stitch, our goal is to find out about the secret of a semi-organic semi artificial smart fabric that killed its creator (a biogenetics engineer with a knack for fashion) and started to build a parallel world made of fabrics and fibers (it felt humans have no taste and thought it must do something about it). We are introduced to this problem as a detective who is asked to solve the murder/suicide (?) case of this fashion designer/engineer (his dead body has been found half flesh half fabric in his lab). Before we realize what is going on, we are absorbed into the world of Stitch during our investigation of the lab. Now we must manage to get out of there, before we can then burn the lab with the “brain fabric” in it and restore world peace.

The world of Stitch consists of two main layers: The Fabric World, and the Undercoat. In the Fabric World we fight against enemies made of cotton, wool, nylon and other fabrics and fibers. Our weapons are needles, scissors, irons etc. We can use zippers to escape into the Undercoat when we find ourselves in a really desperate situation, but we have to remove the zipper before enemies can follow us into it.

The Undercoat is home to the “Fashionistas”, a place where different taste factions can be found that uprised against the “Tasteless Master”. Some of the factions may help you, others may see you as a threat(d?), so being in the Undercoat can be good and bad.

Before we can kill an enemy in Stitch, we have to sew him on a wall or another object to be found in the environment close to the enemy, so that it cannot move freely. We then must cut its head off with a pair of scissors. The best weapon actually depends on the fabric that the enemy is made of: For example synthetic fabrics are very vulnerable to the heat and steam of irons, whereas woolen enemies can be simply “diswoven” into a wool ball if we possess the appropriate weapon (a fish rout like device).

One of the bosses in the game is the Magician, a guy who pulls out pieces of fabric out of his hat. These would instantly become enemies, so it’s very important that we kill a Magician as soon as we see him, or he will constantly produce new enemies and unleash them on us. Magicians are usually very quick and know a lot of pockets to hide in. We can sew a Magician into the pocket though, if we manage to locate his hiding place.

There is no health in the world of Stitch. Instead you must collect patches.

Global Game Jam 2012

Just back home from the Global Game Jam! Famagusta had again a great time making games, and one of this year’s best GGJ games is definitely We Fall, created by Barış Parlan and Aram Azhari. We Fall is a wonderful psychedelic trip through the universe in which you play a falling star rushing through stars and planets. It has wonderful graphics, great sound, and allows you to create colorful art, through which you can fall again and again…

Play me a Story

Here are the presentation slides of the seminar lecture I gave at the METU Informatics Institute. I hope you’ll find them useful!

The Open and the Closed: Notes on Game Narrativity

Follow-Up for a Narrative Design Discussion on Twitter

Yesterday I found myself being part of a very intriguing discussion on narrative design and the role of the narrative designer in game development. Participants in the discussion were Stephen E. Dinehart, Steve Ince, Armando Troisi,  Jacob Krarup and J.B. Vorderkunz.

It all started when Stephen asked:

“[Are you] a narrative designer or a writer? Perhaps both? How do you define the role of [narrative designer] and how does it differ from the role of writer?”

My answer was built around a few points:

1. A narrative designer makes sure that gameplay progression serves a dramatic purpose. It is writerly work on the macro level. A writer, on the other hand, seems to be someone who works on the micro level: she’s writing the detailed scripts that are required and decided by the overall narrative design.  This is how I see the divide in the game industry between these two positions. The division itself has its problems, and most of these problems stem from the game industry’s stance on story’s role in games: the game industry still sees it as a “game + a story” thing, and most writer roles, even that of the narrative designer, are considered to be secondary to that that of the game designer.

2. But the relation between game design and game writing  is not a matter of creating harmony between two seperate aesthetic or informational “tracks” (the gameplay track and the story track). In reality, a game is always something bigger than gameplay+story: Just like the relation between shapes  in Gestalt theory.  In my opinion, narrative design  cares to shape the added value born out of the synchresis of gameplay and narration. In other words, this is writing as design, not writing as mere writing.

3. On the other hand, narrative design may not require extensive writing. One may construct drama without dialogue and other textual elements. The narrative design process is medium-dependent: you deliver what the narrative needs to  deliver through the constraints and possibilities of the medium that is being used for narration. In a medium that evolved as quick as video games, you might easily miss the point that game design in the past always involved a level of narrative design: Just have a look at how Sid Meier or Chris Crawford were designing their games in the 80s and 90s. The effort they put into their games to make sure the gameplay is dramatically compelling makes me think that they were also narrative designers.

4. Which brings me to the following conclusion:  A lead game designer may not necessarily be a good writer, but in a sense, she is always already a narrative designer.

But now games have become more complex and dramaturgically more demanding, and “intuitive” narrative design isn’t always enough.

***

Giving it all a bit more elaboration (and making use of the more convenient space of my blog) I want to add a few more things to the points above:

I think the role of the game designer gets complicated at the point where the exposure of the game world and characters requires more writerly work. Why more writerly work is needed nowadays may have many reasons, of course. But when that is the case, the rules of dramaturgy get into the mix: how you introduce characters and their relations, how you relate them to conflict and deliver the way they evolve, how you maintain necessity and unity in a story that might change direction based on player choice etc. These are difficult things and require a different type of skill and knowledge. And in most cases it might be too much too ask a game designer alone to deal with these aspects of the game.

In the past, the game industry seemed to have the tendency to bring in a writer to deal with low level aspects of “story”. This was also in accord with the “game + a story” way of thinking. The problem here however was, that writers who were asked to write some text would  soon become aware of structural problems in the narrative aspect of the overall game design and they would feel that they lack control over content. Most writer would say that they were brought in “too late”, i.e, they were not involved in the design of the macro-level of the story, and their writing could not “save” the game anymore.

So the problem here is not writing per se, but structuring the game anew, so that gameplay and narrative make sense as a whole. This is probably what Mark Laidlaw did in Half-Life 2, and where the industry made a clever use of a writer for the first time in its history (?).

I believe a narrative designer jumps in at the structure level and makes sure that gameplay progression equals to dramatic progression and that the whole always collapses into a meaningful experience. She may later on also deal with the lower detail works of the writing job, but the really important point in hiring a narrative designer is to make sure that structure is always in its place, even if the game has branches and multiple endings. The narrative designer is also important in other macro level aspects, such as finding the best ways for exposure and the application of other narration techniques.

However, many narrative designers are still much more restricted to “writer” roles.  Many of them do not come in early enough to work on the macro level (the narrative design), or their role is limited to that of an “advisor”.  Their primary role is still to create the  textual elements for moments or scenes in the game that have been mostly already laid out and decided by the game designer.

But what does it mean for a writer not to be allowed to do narrative design? I think the feeling that a writer has when she must write text for a “narrative” that has been already decided but whose flaws are apparent,  is the desire to be a narrative designer :)

The problem here is that the division of labour in the game industry in regard to game writing does not correspond thorougly with the working levels in developing a narrative: Planning comes before writing. Writing is design first, then writing.

The industry still works according to the notion of “games + a story” and the rather new role of the narrative designer is still limited to be someone who mediates between the game designer (the “boss”) and game writer (the “subordinated”). That is, even narrative designers are rather used for writing, and not so much for design.

But in order to fill the gap between the working levels of design in writing, a mediatory role between game design and low level writing will not be sufficient. First of all, the conception of  ”games + a story” is wrong; we are not dealing with tracks that need to be harmonized; we always already deal with a whole. Design starts not only with gameplay, but with narrative as well. Second, a narrative designer too, will ask for more than a mediatory role  in the long term, because in order to get the whole right, you do not only need to design the narrative, but you also need more control over the gameplay design.

I believe that in the future narrative designers will play a more important role in the overall development process of games, and they will have control over both, game design and the working levels in writing. Whether these people will be still called narrative designers at that time  is another question, but I think Stephen Dinehart works hard to keep the title alive and I hope that his efforts will contribute to narrative designers occupying a stronger position in game design. But considering that the “games aren’t narratives” notion is very strong in the game industry, I feel that a title that has “narrative” in it is very difficult to hold a position that isn’t being considered as key as that of the game designer.

Proportion in Narrative Design

I’ve posted a new article up on Gamasutra. It’s about Proportion in Narrative Design. I hope you enjoy the read!

Stay safe…

An Observation

One of the functions of play is to invent one world scheme in terms of another world scheme.

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