One Point Perspective

Johari Bones: Scorecard

2010-01-21T14:00:00.001-05:00

Johari Bones Score Card

Ones
Twos
Threes
Fours
Fives
Sixes
Full House
4 Run
5 Run
Chance
Total

Yeah... it is basically a simplified Yahtzee scorecard. Note some key differences: There are no bonuses, and no hand has a fixed point value.

Johari Bones: Rules

2010-01-21T13:34:00.006-05:00

Johari Bones Rules
Uses one Double-Six set of dominoes.

Each hand begins by dealing 4 bones (dominoes) to each player. Players then assemble those one bone in each of the following positions:

Face Up (Everyone sees)
Face Down (No one sees)
Face In (Only the player sees)
Face Out (Everyone but the player sees)

It is important that players do not look at their own Face Down or Face Out bones.

Once their hands have been appropriately assembled, players take turns choosing and swapping bones according to the following rules.

The player may choose to either draw a bone from the pile or swap a bone with another player.
If the player draws from the pile, that bone may be placed in his Face In or Face Up position or another player’s Face Out or Face Up position. The bone that is replaced is removed from play until next hand.
If the player chooses to swap, he may only do one of the following swaps:

His Face Up with another player’s Face Up
His Face In with another Player’s Face Out.

After each player has 3 turns, the hand concludes. At this time, all bones are turned face up and players choose which ends they are using for scoring.

Only one box on the scorecard may be used per hand. To score, players choose which box they are going to fill, then add up all applicable ends, and write that total in the box. If their hand cannot be used for any of the available boxes, the player must take a zero in one of those boxes.

2 blank ends can be used as 1 "wild."

After 10 turns, the game concludes, and the player with the highest total wins.

Scoring

Ones through Sixes: A number of any suit.
   Example: three 2-Ends would yield 6 points in the “Twos” box.

Full House: Two of a Kind plus Three of a (different) Kind
   Example: Two 4-Ends and Three 5-Ends yields 23 points in the “Full House” box

4 and 5 Runs: A series of consecutive numbers of the appropriate length.
   Example: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Ends would yield 20 points in the “5 Run” Box

Chance: Sum of all Ends.

A Sample Scorecard can be found in the next post.

Johari Bones: Introduction

2010-01-21T13:29:00.001-05:00

If you have been with this blog since I started it a few months back, or if you've trolled the archives, you may remember a game I posted called "Dragons." It was a pen and paper pick-up game akin to Tic Tac Toe or Dots, and I felt like it wasn't really a marketable thing.

In the same spirit of public domain, I'd like to offer up another game I cooked up this weekend. As a short caveat, this game is as yet unplayed, but the idea was novel enough in my mind that I wanted to just get it "out there." The game is entitled "Jahari Bones."

Those who have studied any psychology may be familiar with the Johari Window. I thought that not only is it a clever way of evaluating game properties, but the window itself might make for a clever game "hook."

Each player has a hand of 4 dominoes (henceforth called "bones"), and each is positioned in such a way as to represent the one quadrant of the Johari Window: one is face up on the table, one is face down, one faces toward the player and one faces away from the player.

Any bone which can be read by the player is manipulatable on his turn, including those belonging to other players.

The game has - as my design philosophy dictates - very simple and stable rules. However, the ability to change other player's property and the fact that they know something about your hand that you do not bring a bit of an edge and a cognitive tweak over your casual game.

Full rules and scoring will follow in the next post.

Concrete versus Abstract

2010-01-04T10:28:00.002-05:00

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 cognative 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 cognative anchors, which we will explore in later posts.

Reindeer Games...

2009-12-24T16:27:00.001-05:00

Apologies to anyone who might actually read this blog... and if you do, you are mighty quiet, my friend. December has not been kind to my schedule, but fear not! Posting will get back into some semblance of regularity once we get through the holidays.

In the mean time, peace and joy from me to you.

Nalpha 2.1, the Learning Curve

2009-11-25T10:00:00.000-05:00

This past week I had the privilege to test Nalpha in its current state with two folks who had not yet played it. One (let's call him Terry) was familiar with DnD as well as MtG. The other (let's call him Carl) had no experience with RPGs broadly, though he told me he had played MtG years back.

As I have intimated before, I believe Nalpha falls in the gap between traditional pen-and-dice tabletops and TCGs, which was borne out in comments from Terry. So, it seems that both would have a general sense of game mechanics rather quickly.

What I observed was almost exactly what you'd expect, but I found it fascinating to witness it first hand in such a marked fashion...

Terry picked up the game very quickly. He understood basic strategy almost right away, and throughout the couse of the campaign he made good choices for himself, as well as being able to counsel Carl well.

Carl, by contrast, had only a faint and distant recollection of TCGs and virtually no RPG experience at all. His eyes darted from card to card rapidly on his turns, and you could almost feel his struggle to keep tabs on what was going on. That is not to say that he was learning slowly. I'd say he was learning at a somewhat typical pace. It was just more pronounced when compared to someone closer to the target demographic.

All in all, the game went well, and both had a good time (though I dare say Terry had a great time), even though we lost. I learned a few things about the campaign (it's farther behind in development than the Player Character core of the game) that will make the next edition a little better.

The biggest take away for me was that I think the game does what I want it to for the target audience. It was more-or-less intuitive once some basic rules were established. The bulk of game time was spent playing, not explaining. To me, that marks an elegant system and ups the fun-factor significantly.

Nalpha 2.1, and the State of the Game

2009-11-17T16:05:00.002-05:00

This shouldn't be a long post, but I thought I should let you know how the gimmick vs. playability debate went.

Generally speaking, Playability won out in the end. To be fair, the physical hook I mentioned earlier has returned to the game, but it has been toned back a bit. The long and short of it is this: less upkeep, but similar flavor.

The gaming surfaces are completely gone, which addresses the portability issues I wrestled with previously. The game feels great to play, but it still keeps some of the kinesthetic and visual appeal I had aimed for initially.

As I say, in the end, the victory went to playability. The game just wasn't that fun when it was all about tedious card-handling. But I was happy to have preserved the spirit of the gimmick, and ultimately I think that made it a likeable hook, rather than a burden to endure.

Nalpha: Emergence of a Subgenre

2009-11-17T09:45:00.001-05:00

So, Nalpha is clipping along nicely. I'm on the cusp of rolling out the next edition of beta. Not nearly the huge core changes in this edition that we experienced in the last, but it's still pretty comprehensive. Or to put it differently, I'm not quite to the point of fretting over the balance of each individual card yet, but those days are not so distant.

I was a bit dumbfounded to discover that, not counting the special "Character" cards, I had tasked myself with the creation of no less than 84 cards for the "Starter" version of the game. Now, mind you, that is 84 discrete cards - no duplicates at all.

Which brings me to the topic I will be exploring: What do you do with a game that does not fit quite into an existing genre?

To understand my quandry directly, I'll talk a bit about what Nalpha is.

Nalpha (not the real name of the game, for you new readers), is sort of like a trading card game. I have been clearly and heavily influenced by Magic: the Gathering as well as a few others in the genre.

On the other hand, Nalpha is, by virtue of its design, not a trading card game. There really is no reason to trade anything. The cards aren't collectable in any sense. There is no such thing as a rare card.

For this reason, I have in mind a different idea of "expansion" and enduring marketability. Forgive me if I don't disclose those to you (and the rest of the universe) here.

To me, the idea innovating a subgenre is exciting, and probably the only way a nobody-indie like me has a prayer and getting published but on the flipside, who do I approach about publication?

Established TCG companies are a possibility, but they tend to be monolithic and chances of catching their attention seems remote. Moreover, I don't know if they'd likely deviate from the established pattern of rare-card driven booster sales, since they have a formula that presumably works. If I don't go that route, then who do I go to? Table-top publishers? I'm just not sure.

And that's the rub, isn't it? As innovation increases so does unfamiliarity. It's a bit of a double-edged sword.

Still, I have some time before I need to really look into the business end of things. Maybe I'll have some answers by the time I'm ready to submit proposals.

Nalpha 2.0: First Look

2009-11-04T16:30:00.000-05:00

A buddy and I gave the reworked Nalpha a shot and let me tell you: it was better. Much better.

Now, the game was far from "all that I could have hoped for." It still certainly has a way to go. Moreover, what we did was a simple duel. Dueling is an okay activity in the game, but I think it will never compare to any gamestyle with more than one member per team.

One one level, the metagame is about selecting the appropriate cards, but I think the larger metagame is about assembling a team.

On the whole, variation in gameplay is not as high as I would like. Down the road I may increase the number of cards a player can use at once but, as I say, that is down the road. For now, I'm simply pleased that the game is working at the most basic level.

Nalpha: Why it sucked.

2009-11-03T09:10:00.001-05:00

So, my wife gracious tested "Nalpha" with me this weekend.

It was awful. Simply dreadful. It's not that the idea that it has grown from was bad, but the implementation was. Gameplay was marked with tedium, and on any given turn (which should be the high point of "fun-having"), it felt as though the game played itself, rather than you played it.

My wife is honest with her words, but much more so with her posture, facial expression, and overalll fidgetiness. I was convinced that the game was bad. And that is why I am so grateful to have had her try it out with me.

So where do we go from here? Well, here's the process I went through:

First, I tried to be sure I understood what precisely wasn't working. In this case I saw two major issues: tedious physical action (particularly when it wasn't my turn) and lack of options.

I try to look at troubleshooting and redesign in a medical kind of way: is the problem a symptom or is it the actual disease? In this case, it seemed to me that the first issue was a symptom, and the second an actual disease.

A disease is usually easier to correct; you can address it head on. Symptoms, by contrast, can be simply treated head on, but that may not really fix the problem. So, you have to root out the actual cause.

I identified the root of problem #1 as being one of the core mechanics of the game. That kind of sucked, but in a way I always knew I was unhappy with it; I just couldn't admit it to myself. Altering it would mean losing a fair amount of the "class-diversity" I had intended for the game. Nevertheless, a diverse game that's not fun is still not a good game.

So I wound up axing the old mechanic, but I did work out a new one that was simpler, faster, and less tedious. A little tweak to the format of each turn helped save the class-diversity I was afraid of losing.

As for the lack of options, that was pretty easily addressed by simply lowering the cost of many cards so that more actions were available more often. A rebalance of the potency of those cards was also necessary, but that wasn't terribly difficult.

So, I've printed a new Nalpha set. Now, I just need to play a few games and see if the changes take.

Nalpha: Gimmick versus Optimization

2009-10-29T10:01:00.002-04:00

I have been working on a few games concurrently, and one of them is a genre-mash-up somewhere between a TCG and a tabletop RPG. For the sake of discretion, let's give this project a codename: Nalpha.

So, I've been working on this project for a couple weeks, and there was a bit of a gimmicky hook to the play action; the cards were used in a physical way as a game element that cards usually aren't. Yes, I know I'm being guarded with my description, but bear with me. I wouldn't probably be talking openly about this game at all, if not for the developmental crossroads I find myself at.

There are other things that make the game unique and - in my estimation - fun and interesting, but this is particular facet makes handling the cards feel different.

There are a couple downsides to the format, however. For one, this implementation requires special play surfaces (a mat of sorts) that both takes up a fair amount of table-space, as well as mandates extra hardware (the mat itself) to play the game. These in turn reduce the portability of the game; it is not very travel-friendly.

One of the things I love about TCGs is the ability to throw a deck in your backpack, purse, or pocket. It's not a cheesy "travel-version" of the "real game;" the real game is travel friendly. You can take it to school, or the coffee shop, or a friend's house easily. Pull out your deck and in under a minute you are playing the game.

I could redesign the game components (without changing game mechanics) to address all of these problems, and even give a few intuitive improvements to some cards. But if I do so, then I eliminate the physical hook that gives you the "Whoa" impression when you first see the game.

Ultimately, I think either format will feel similar once you have learned the game (with a slight edge to the "redesigned" Nalpha), so it comes down to other factors. The question I'm grappling with is simple, really:

Is having a strong (visual/physical, not mechanical) gimmick more or less valuable than designing components for optimum playability?

Marketing is a factor, but fidelity to the player (not merely the consumer) is important, too. This question was posed in a different way by Arcade over at Learning Game Design, which I posited my two cents on. But now that it's my crisis and not his, I'm finding it more difficult to sort out the issue.

More on Learning and Gaming

2009-10-21T14:24:00.000-04:00

I think there is something intrinsically human in our need to learn. This, of course, transcends academics and/or the assimilation of data. But learning is one of the most gratifying experiences within the scope of humanity. Learning can manifest in many ways, based on the objective.

One form of learning is mimicry. This is a performance-oriented mode of learning. On one end of the spectrum would be learning a fixed dance step. On the other, perhaps would be conjugating Latin verbs. One improves simply by doing what an authority does.

This is one of the least satisfying modes of learning, but it is efficient when performance (to an established standard) is necessary. In many gaming arenas, this may be called "Cookie-cutter builds/decks". For many, designing a deck or customizing a character is a large portion of the fun. But when initially learning the game (how it works, what its rules are, what is a good play or a bad play, etc.), mimicry can get a novice up and running quickly, providing a necessary entre into the game.

Once beyond mimicry, many learners move into proverbial thinking. This mode of learning is similar to mimicry, but allows for much more freedom and opens early opportunities to experiment and explore. Proverbial thinking is when the learner does not mimic the authority in execution, but rather makes his own decisions based on values laid out by the authority. Some examples of value-proverbs might be: "Cash is king," "Speed kills," or "Always stand on 17 or higher." Such proverbs provide a framework, but allow for ownership within those bounds.

Most casual players will stop at proverbial thinking. What happens within this mode is that players become more adept at adhering to the proverbs. Their performance will increase as long as their adopted proverbs accurately describe the reality of game mechanics.

The final mode of learning I am going to highlight is innovation. In this mode, the learner has moved himself (and perhaps his peers) to the position of authority. Typically, proverbs once learned are now challenged and tested for viability. Experimentation becomes a hallmark of the learning experience. The learner will often attempt to model (mathematically or otherwise) the phenomenon so as to thoroughly understand it. Innovation operates more in the theoretical and hypothetical than the other two modes.

Innovative gamers are the gurus that are sought for the cookie-cutters and proverbs. It is their play that gets studied by novices and amateurs. Interestingly, relaxation through play seems to be reduced as does "fun" in play. The "fun-factor" for innovators is the meta-game; the game of doing the game differently and/or better than it has been done before.

I find that proverbial players seem to be the happiest consistently, but it is impossible to be a different kind of learner than you are. For myself, I know that I am not satisfied with anything less than something distinctively my own, (even if it handicaps me for a time).

The Learning Curve

2009-10-07T10:14:00.000-04:00

This week I had the privilege of demo-ing my card game with a friend of mine I only see occassionally. After the game I thanked him for testing for me and his response was this: "No problem. I think I make a good tester because I am a slow learner."

I thought his comment was at once endearing (there was no hint of false modesty in his face or voice) and instructive to me. He had fun playing... not merely because the game ran well but because, by his estimation, he understood the game well by the second or third turn.

I took this to be a good sign for a game that is meant to be light-weight and casual. What I thought was even better was watching over the course of four games or so, he made consistently better plays. His skill level increased as his experience increased.

There is, I think, a fairly low ceiling for how good you can get at the game. It doesn't offer the strategic depth of something like Magic: the Gathering or interpersonal skills like Poker. But there are choices and in most cases there are poor, fair, and good decisions that can be made.

I think that's the strength of my card game (I can't go into much by way of specifics if I hope to get published), but the gist is that the rules are minimal but comprehensive and the cards are fairly easily understood. You can know everything there is to know in just a couple minutes. But there is a "feel" to the game, a heirarchy of decision making that comes with experience. Anyone who has played two games is unlikely to spend more than a minute on even the most labored turn, because cards are easily and situationally prioritized.

I've been told that my game lacks a "ground-breaking inventive mechanic." I think that's true, but I'm going to continue to pursue publication for a while anyways because I believe it is worth it. It's novel. It's a joy to play. It's a good product.

Hmm... I meant to spend more time talking about the role of "learning" a game than I actually did. Perhaps I'll tie-in to this in a separate post later.

Just a brief update...

2009-09-30T11:16:00.001-04:00

I got my first rejection letter! I know, I know. You're all very proud of me. Well, I'm proud of myself as well.

Truth is, I didn't expect my first submission would be a success, and the critique offered was justified. To be transparent, I identified the objections raised before I ever thought about sending my game off for publication.

But, the gentleman who I corresponded with could not have been more courteous and encouraging. My supervisor at my actual job described the letter as "The nicest kick in the nuts" he'd ever read. I'm heading to the next company with my game, so we'll see.

Again, in the interest of honesty (since this is my blog after all), I may never get this game published and that'd be okay with me. I'm learning about how the process works, how the industry works, and just trying to keep my head up. I've never tried to get published before, so this is a big step up from just playing with friends and then shelving the present game when I make a new one.

When I have more time, I will go a little deeper into what might be between me and publication.

Theming Part Two

2009-09-14T10:42:00.006-04:00

The card game I wrote about in my previous post on theming is coming along. At this point it is an actual game... not just a mocked-up idea of a game. I have a design for some poker-sized cards (though some real ART would be nice).

Which means, of course, I'm already knee deep in my next game idea. I know, I know. But I can't help it.

Anyways, most recreational projects I take on start by setting a novel goal for myself. So, I decided I'd try to make a game that would score well on Garfield's Cosmic Poker scale. To do so I thought I'd try my hand at a new genre: Designers games (a.k.a. Eurogames). Now, I make no guarantees that I will actually accomplish said goal, but it at least got the ideas flowing.

The principle mechanics of the game are node-capture (via "secret auction" bidding), randomly assigned assets, and a fixed quantity of resources. It is a boardgame, and as I see it, the actual mapping on the board is going to be crucial to the playability and enjoyment of the game.

The map is not going to be easy to make. I'm currently working with over 30 nodes, with multiple paths into and out of all of them. So to make the prototype, I used a VERY simple, VERY representational drawing. It looked like a flowchart. A wicked, involved flowchart.

The result when people see it is almost invariable... "Whooooa..... YEESH!" I didn't realize how common the word "yeesh" was until last week. Now, I'm going through this narrative to illustrate a point. Not that I have a bad idea (in fact, most people kind of dig on the idea once they understand the game). It's not about complexity. The game is VERY simple in principle and in mechanics. It is about apparent complexity. It's about supposed difficulty.

I'm writing about distraction.

When the game was about "capturing nodes," and scoring with an unnamed currency ("little guys?"), the game was very abstract. Abstract is inherently difficult for many people.

The movement people make is to start with the tangible thing, and once it has been mastered, to slowly strip away the outward signs to discover inner (abstract) truth. Consider math, for example. The notion of counting or addition did not arise on their own. I may now be able to assent to the abstract principle that 2 + 2 = 4, but consider how children are taught that truth. They hold two crayons in one hand, two in the other, then push them together and count them all. It is more meaningful for the child to be able to learn how crayons interrelate than to simply present them with the abstract (although simpler) concept of adding two numbers.

Now, let's go back to the "Overwhelming Flowchart Game." Let's replace "nodes" with "clubs and arenas." The currency is well... cash. The objective is for you (a fledgling record label) to secure exlusive contracts (via unabashed bribery) for your bands to play at as many venues as possible on their tour.

Okay... so now we have an extra layer of information, but most people won't be saying to themselves, "Oh dear... I have to remember that these nodes are supposed to be concert locations..." People intuit that, because it resembles their own experience.

So, what happens is the theming actually distracts from the basics of the game, which in turn makes the game less daunting and easier to digest.

Wednesday Worship at the Megachurch

2009-09-11T11:22:00.001-04:00

The night before last I went to a local mega-church to see what their young adult worship service was all about. I'm still trying to sort through my thoughts on the evening, so let me tell you about what I saw.

In a lot of ways it was exactly what I had expected... maybe a little more like a night club than I had guessed, but otherwise very similar.

We arrived about twenty minutes before service, which meant we had to park almost as far away as possible. As we approached the front doors, a pair of young ladies (dressed in black-on-black, which might have been "usher attire") swung open the doors for us with a word of welcome.

As we emerged from the airlock, the lobby was a broad, shallow arc sprawling in both directions. Straight ahead was the information counter, and to the right was a coffee bar which - according to the sign - sold some christian brand of coffee.

We milled around the lobby (as the worship area was closed) until it was almost time for service. When we finally entered the worship space, it looked indistinguisable from an auditorium rock concert. There was stadium seating stacked dozens of rows high in a semicircle around the floor space - which was packed with people crowding close to the stage in archetypical concert fashion.

On the stage, there was a band of about twelve young people, ranging from thrift-store hipsters to a couple candidates for metal-heads. Stage pieces were graffitied extensively - mostly indescipherable to my eye.

It was loud. Very loud. I like to think I'm not old enough to be offended by loud, but I did find it hard to know if I was singing on key because I couldn't hear my own screaming voice. Maybe that was a good thing. Singing in church isn't about being on key or hearing yourself. Still though... it was loud.

After three or four songs, the pastor finally emerged: a long-haired guy in jeans and a t-shirt. He talked a lot about "the hot married couples" in the crowd. On the flip side, he also spent a few memorable moments talking about how church is not a dating service or singles bar. I think he was trying to lift up marriage as a good thing, even a cool thing.

It is both of those things, by the way.

His sermon was very informal - lots of asides and meandering attention. Pop references were a prominent feature. Much was said about "our generation."

He read several scriptures from all over the Bible - a sort of buffet approach to texts that you see in many protestant churches. Truthfully, I'm not very critical of what he said. By and large, I felt like he was right on.

At the end of the service there was, by my reckoning, an altar call - which came as no surprise to me, even if it is outside of my own denominational heritage. After those who went forward were shepherded out for one-on-one prayer (I presume), the doors were opened and we shuffled off into our respective cars.

When I left the church that evening, I felt like I had probably heard the Word of God, but I'm not sure I felt like we had a conversation. I was sort of a third-party to the worship. I didn't feel like I was part of the music - although I was singing and enjoying their pristine performance. I didn't feel like I was part of the scripture - it was basically just given to me to take home. I didn't feel like I shared with God what was on my heart. I didn't even feel like I was particularly a part of anything. I was me. I was in the crowd. But I wasn't part of the crowd.

Now, in all fairness, this church employs a small group program which is apparently an integral part of how they are church. Still though, it was strange. I imagine I felt like the medieval church goers. They went to mass, saw some incredible (even seemingly "magical") things happen. Church was done for them, and they departed and perhaps took home a mandate from God. Perhaps their hearts were stirred with wonder or convicted with guilt. Perhaps they went just because it was a thing to do - a way to get off the farm for a little while.

Did God use that service? I have no doubts. Still though, I wonder if some of the essential church-action was neglected.

Themes and Flavor

2009-09-08T16:34:00.002-04:00

I am currently developing a casual-style card game, and I have to say that it is shaping up nicely. The mechanics are simple, the learning curve is shallow, but there is a discernable level of strategic play. Play testing has been pretty good so far.

But I was hung up on a different level: Theming. It's interesting to me that the core of the game (let's say the "game engine") can be nicely tuned and working great, but without a proper theme it can still feel lacking.

At first, I chalked up the notion of theming as simply a marketability issue. And even now I will say that for the most part it is. I have to say that I kind of frown when I try to picture someone walking through a game store (or game aisle in a big-box store) and look at my product. What is going to make them want to play it? Not much, yet. Not because the game isn't enjoyable or well tuned, but because I haven't made something that stands out.

But let's take it past marketability. There is something else that theming does to the game; it facilitates the emergence of a subculture. Theming, at the most basic level, provides a discrete language (jargon, if you prefer).

Now, indulge me in a short aside. I am wary of jargon in most of my socialization, game design included. It can be a barrier. For instance, I have in my game used the words "withdraw" and "spend" in the place of "draw" and "discard" respectively. Is it awkward at first? A bit. But, the game instructions explain the terms rather plainly, and ultimately I think it will serve the game. Nevertheless, it is unabashed jargon for its own sake.

Jargon is the language of exclusivity. And while most games don't aim to exclude potential players, exclusion can be a means of draw.

I know. It sounds counter-intuitive. Well, it IS counter-intuitive, but consider this: if you could not differentiate players from non-players would you want to become a player? Would you even know there was a game?

Any group that would like to grow should be both exclusive and inviting. What I mean is, there is a division between being in and out, but it is a line not a wall. If you want to be "in," you can be "in."

There may be multiple levels of "in"-ness (consider the acrimony between casual gamers and hardcore gamers), but they will all share in the same sub-culture at some level. A casual player may not have facility will ALL jargon, but he will have facility with some. He will grasp the basic tenets, even if the minutia escapes him.

Can a game have no theming at all? I don't think so. I think a community who plays will spontaneously discover their own jargon, their own rituals, their own narratives. But by intentionally theming a game, a designer has a guiding hand in the process (which is not, strictly speaking, a positive thing). However, this guidance should facilitate the rise of culture. Proper theming can, in some cases, even help bridge the gap between nominal interest and excitement.

So, as you may have guessed, I did work out a theme (though the question is by no means settled in my mind). I've decided to use a world currency theme, and use some very basic economics terminology. Verbally, I think it hangs together satisfactorily. Visually, I'm not there yet, but I can see some potential.

Guess we'll find out when I print out v1.03 (hopefully soon).

Discouraged by Daytime Television.

2009-09-04T16:20:00.000-04:00

When will we tire of the braying catcalls of depraved desire?
When will our appetites be sated on the life-imparting sustenance of truth and love?
When will out hearts burn for justice and our eyes seek grace and know beauty as such?
Not often on this side of the horizon, I suspect.

Serious Gaming: Part 2

2009-09-02T11:46:00.005-04:00

(Continuing from the previous post.)

But for all the positives that serious gaming may have, there are some notable dangers. The one that I think needs to be highlighted is this: Taking it too Seriously.

This is the same thing that happens when screamed profanity barrels past the teeth of angry parents at tee-ball. But usually, "taking it too seriously" isn't nearly that obvious.

More often, in my experience, it is a gradual process in which your energy expended increases while your enjoyment decreases. It's an awful situation to be in, because the primary (and by which I mean physiological, psychological, and sociological) benefits of gaming are eroded, and - as stated previously - the game becomes work.

And you know what they say: All work and no play makes Jack a worn-out, burned out, neurotic overeater who is no fun to be around and gets very little done. Or something like that.

So... how do you fix it? Well, the first strategy is obvious: Take a break! Invest some time in some other activity... maybe there's a hobby you've long neglected, or maybe it's just time to play something different. Read a book.

Another thing you can try is to play differently. Some games have alternative rules; this might be a good time to explore them. Other games have built in variety, such as choices of race or class or alignment.

You could also impose artificial limits on yourself. For instance, I once built a MtG deck that only had 1 kind of red card; the rest was green. Sure it was gimmicky. It was not made for tournament play. It was just a curiosity deck that wasn't an absolute failure. Or take a much more impressive example from a Pacifist in WoW. At present he has almost taken a second character to max level without killing anything.

The point is, especially in cooperative gaming where people depend on you, gaming can feel like a responsibility and amass pressure and stress of its own. So, it's important to keep asking yourself, "Are we having fun yet?" If not, or if you're finding the question hard to answer, perhaps it's time for a change. I cannot say this emphatically enough, "It's a game."

Perspective, folks... always keep perspective.

Serious Gaming: Part 1

2009-09-02T11:44:00.002-04:00

I think the value of casual gaming is fairly self-evident. People want a bit of a distraction, something with little pressure, little stress, and little effort. It may be a way of fighting boredom (games like Solitaire, for example), or it may be a venue to be social (party or family style games like Cranium or Warioware). And without any real research into it, my suspicion is that the vast majority of people who play games at all play almost exclusively at the casual level.
But there is a segment of gamers who are much more invested - personally as well as fiscally - in the games they play. They tend to gravitate to a different type of game. Strategy or mechanical skill seem to be the prime factors of interest, because they serve as a means of bettering one's ability to play. And for the serious gamer, that is the what keeps the player playing.

Mind you, I don't mean to say there is no learning curve or skill in casual gaming. After all, some people are really good at Pictionary, but you aren't likely to see a ranked listing of the best Pictionary players in the world. Clearly it is a skill based game (drawing, symbolic encoding and interpretation). Playing it more means you will likely get better at it, but I don't know anyone who plays Pictionary to become a better player.

Take on the flip side a game like Chess. Avid chess players will study other player's games. They will purchase and read books, they may even pay a tutor. Millions of people know who Kasparov, Fisher, and even Deep Blue are.

I purposefully selected Chess because for whatever reason (and there are probably dozens), it is a game that garners a level of respect from people that don't "get" most serious gaming. But certainly, serious gaming expresses itself across many genres. Maybe we'll explore those later, but the question I really want to ponder is: What's the point?

Serious gaming entails effort and commitment. People work at this kind of play. The trouble is, play can become work. At some levels, this is entirely acceptable. Professional gamers, for instance, work at games - and are paid to do so. But it is no longer a past-time for them. It is not a means of relaxation.

But what of the man who works all day at a joe-job (or even a respectable career), but his downtime is spent on serious gaming? On the outside, one might look at him and ask, "What's the point? Don't you ever relax?"

If you are a serious gamer (as I consider myself to be), you may think that its a silly question. I don't. Serious gaming is very attractive. It can satisfy a desire for competition, it can offer a venue to feel a sense of accomplishment, and usually there is a society that is engaged in your game of choice and its genre.

Such societies give rise to sub-cultures; each with their own language, icons, proverbs, and inside jokes. It becomes a thing to talk about. It becomes a reason to get together, rather than a thing to do when you are together.

(Continued in next post.)

Sounds familiar

2009-08-28T16:21:00.000-04:00

Ghostcrawler on the WoW forums : "One of our overall design philosophies for WoW (and Blizzard) is to be simple but have a lot of depth." (source)

*Shrug* Just sayin'...

Across the Table: Gaming as a Communal Experience

2009-08-26T02:37:00.008-04:00

When I mention that I make games as a hobby, the first question I usually get is, "Like... video games?" The answer is no. Not, mind you, because I oppose them in principle. I am an avid video gamer and I would be very amenable to the idea of working on one.

On the other hand, the answer is no not because I don't have the resources or know-how. I have moderate flash skills and my own copy of the software. I could be making (and have made) computer-based games. There are some real limits on what I could do, but not really any more so than are imposed on me by not using that medium.

The answer is no because I want to sit at a table with someone. I want to hold the cards or roll the dice or move the pieces. And even as I write on this ephemeral, ethereal idea that is a blog on the internet, I have to say I like to get away from my computer screen.

People behave differently in person than they do remotely. This should not be news to most of you. In person, people are generally more patient, more gracious, more considerate, and more reasonable. Playing is more of a cooperative endeavor when there is no artificial mediator. On a computer, players seldom have to work through interpreting a rule; reaching mutual agreement about "fairness" is a non-issue in that setting. The remotely mediated gaming experience implies naturally less ownership than the cooperatively administered game.

More and more, modern gaming is about getting together, not getting away. I think this goes beyond merely wanting to have multiple players. I think the trend is toward hanging-out while playing.

Consider what Xbox Live has done to gaming. You'd think being able to play against people all over the world would be a matter of satisfying the hardcore, best-in-the-world types. But when you really think about the Xbox Live experience it can be (and usually is) more about finding partners and teammates, talking (or even video conferencing) with friends, and "hanging out," than it is about ladders and rankings. The whole notion of achievements is built around the idea that people are interested in other people as people beyond their function in a particular match.

This struck me acutely as I watched a stream of Blizzcon. Blizzard has been in the business of matchmaking for their games for well over a decade now through a service they call Battlenet. One of the big reveals (in fact it tool up the bulk of one of their panels on the long awaited StarCraft 2) was a total overhaul to Battle.net.

What caught my attention was when the presenter was talking about the places they looked for ideas and inspiration for how the new Battle.net would work... and things like Facebook and Google Chat were mentioned. That little tidbit gave me a great deal of pause. What sort of implications does that have? It seemed both perfectly natural, and perfectly surreal that the Battle.net changes are not aimed primarily at improving gameplay (such as improved stat tracking and ranking algorithms, though I'm sure they have been working hard in those areas). The renovation is moving to a trans-gaming community experience.

Conceptually speaking, the game is ceasing to be "the thing as such" and is becoming (or perhaps returning to being) the vehicle for a communal experience.

Sure there are still games that we can play in isolation. I hope that developers will always make games with "campaigns" and single-player content. After all, sometimes I game because I do want to get away. But such times for me are much more the exception than the rule.

Which is why, as a designer, I still like dice. I still like sitting across the table from a person. I like the burden of hashing out an agreement on rules. I'm just old-fashioned like that. Or progressive. Take your pick.

Questions for Testers: Designer Debriefing

2009-08-25T12:19:00.004-04:00

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: Sample game

2009-08-25T09:31:00.001-04:00

Here is a sample completed game of Dragons. We'll walk through this real briefly to cover scoring and connectivity.

|A|A|Y|A|B|B|

|A|A|A|A|B|B|

|Y|A|Z|Z|Z|B|

|Y|Y|Y|B|B|Z|

|Y|B|Y|Y|Z|Z|

The first thing to note is that there should be 9 of each symbol. if you get any other outcome, some body made a mistake on one of their turns. Remember, you must play exactly one of each of your symbols per turn.

So, what dragons do we see on the board? Well, "A" is a single dragon 9 links long - the very best possible. "B" is divided between 3 dragons: the first being 6 links (top right), the second is 2 links (bottom right), and the last only 1 link (bottom left). Note that the first and second touch diagonally, but that does not constitute "linkage."

Since we only count the Longest dragon of each symbol, Player One gets 9 points from his "A"s and 6 points from "B"s for a total of 15 points.

To simplify the scoring process, you can mark out any non-scoring (i.e. "not-longest") dragon.

|A|A| |A|B|B|

|A|A|A|A|B|B|

|Y|A|Z|Z|Z|B|

|Y|Y|Y| | | |

|Y| |Y|Y| | |

So, let's score Player Two. Y: 8 points, Z: 6 points for a total of 14 points. Note: Y and Z dragons do not link. Ever. Player two does NOT have a 14 link dragon. He has an 8 link and a 6 link.

Final score -

Player One: 15

Player Two: 14

I hope that sheds some light on how the game functions. Tie games are possible, and I have considered giving the second player a half-point handicap, but honestly ties don't bother me so bad at the moment. Maybe that will change over time.

Dragons, Go, and the new Tic Tac Toe

2009-08-25T08:47:00.003-04:00

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.

A Word of Welcome

2009-08-24T15:42:00.000-04:00

If you're here, I don't know why. But I do thank you for stopping by.

I have never blogged before, but I'm the kind of guy that has thoughts he wishes he wrote down. I'm not egotistical enough to think that I'm writing for you because I don't even know that you will ever see this.

But since you did, let me tell you what you can expect out of this blog.

I will talk about gaming. Lots of different kinds of gaming. I love to play games, I love to make games. Caveat: I am not a professional game maker. I cannot help you get a job or market your product. It is a hobby of mine and that is all.

I will talk about fiction. Things I'm reading. Things I'm writing. I may even post segments of stories. Consider them copyrighted. Also, consider them open to critique.

I will talk about math and science. Chances are it will intersect with some of the other topics. see below

I will talk about God. I am a very spiritual (and to some extent religious) person. Having a consistent and comprehensive philosophy-of-everything is something I am always working at (sort of like Einstein's unified theory... except the Einstein parts). God is an integral part of my understanding of the universe. You may not concede to my statements about God, or even assent to his existence. That's fine. But if the notion of God (or the fact that I claim to know Him) offends you, I'm sorry. It's here. You've been warned.

I will talk about music and the arts and other transcendental or expressive things.

If you're still reading this, then I suspect you'll go on to read something else. If you stopped reading ealier, I'd appologize for boring you, but you wouldn't read it anyways.