But even more to the fact, I think we need something akin to Film Theory in video games. Film theory brought about a grammar to discuss how film should be talked about and how it should be analyzed. While we have a lot of books about video games, there isn’t one grammar to discuss game theory.

I kind of agree with someone like Henry Jenkins who believes games are like an ecology and landscapes moreso than a linear cut. But I have no idea how we can write that. How do you apply something like postmodern theory or feminist theory to a video game without it sound like a narrative discussion. I’m not a ludologist by any means, but I think that there is value to a discussion of games as games and not just as a narrative like NGJ proposes.

But I have no idea what that would look like. I’m thinking of something along the lines of sports writing, but I’m not sure.

If you think that getting a game recommendation in the form of “play this” is a valuable form of writing, then how do you distinguish Indie Game Developer #1’s recommendation from Indie Game Developer #2? Is it on the basis of their good looks, their cool web site, or the kind of shoes they wear? I’m being a bit facetious here because I’m not convinced that you really believe that “thinky” game writing is useless.

I’m just a gamer too. I want to play games and talk about them. I’m not satisfied with buying $2000 of games a year and consuming them like TV. I push buttons to make things do stuff. But I could also be doing that in a factory, or as a secretary, or in front of my TV. But I want to play games and write about them rather than do all of those forms of button pushing. Ever ask yourself why you play games? Or why would you end up reading and commenting on a site like this if you really thought game writing was just a waste of time?

Not trying to be an ass here, just hoping that your next comment will be a bit more self-reflective.

I don’t think you can take a video game and write philosophically about it. Video games are too functional of a medium. As a gaming culture writer you have the option of waxing philosophical about a game, but don’t expect it to be a huge draw. Thinky writing never is. That’s one of the unfortunate truths of the Human Condition philosophers have been whining about for centuries.

I will say that I played Home the other day, and it was one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had. This profound statement was not made by a games journalist. It was made by an indie game developer. The statement made by the games journalist made was “Play Home. It’s free. It takes five minutes to play and it’s totally worth it. Here’s the link. Home good.”

I’m not sure what more than that you expect a Gaming Journalist to do. I’m not sure what you more than that expect readers to want Gaming Journalists to do.

But then what do I know? I’m just a gamer. I push the buttons what makes the things do stuff to things.

Personally, I’d rather reap the glory and respect from my fellow gamers who are interested in the same writing/games as me, than the off-hand thank you of a million readers.

I’ll get started reading the blogs you’ve suggested. Hopefully this stuff will make me a little more light-hearted. I still loved the article. It’s really inspirational. I just can’t be bothered trying to smile for too long.

When the overwhelming fact is that the lifeblood of your very passion is also what binds you to constant mediocrity, and fleeting success, there’s really nothing to do but cry about it. I can’t relate to anyone talking about a UK magazine, because I’m American, and all our magazines have been pure crap or decently entertaining. I can say, though, that the way things are shaping up it seems like I probably would’ve been better off born across the pond.

But back to my major point. I’d love to write articles about the love of gaming, articles that aren’t one of those corny “Top Ten Reasons The PSP SUCKS!” pieces of crap, but who’s going to read it? Other writers? They barely have time to read over their own stuff. Games Journalism is sadly shaping up to be one of those fields where the only way you can succeed in it is to already be famous.

It’s like if you didn’t start out back when Gamespot was just an idea in someone’s notebook, there’s no shimmering ghost of a chance to do anything of note, or go anywhere worth mentioning in the field. 90% Of the gamers out there are fanboys with the reading level of the average African seven month old, and the attention span of The Cole Train on Red Bull and Budweiser. Most of the people I know that even buy magazines only do so to look at the fancy pictures and ads. The most reading they do is of the clever little captions. Oh joy.

Oh, and I LOVED EGM. I was a kid, but I loved it. So whoever has beef with THAT, well then… you’re not a nice person. So there.

Take a look at some of the blogs I linked to in the sentence “There are already some writers out there trying…” – those are all small individual attempts at realizing something meaningful about games without becoming pretentious or intellectual about it. None of them master game journalism, but they all contribute something unique, and when taken in sum (and keep in mind many of us are ‘writing to one another’ through our blog posts) create an interesting and vibrant community of game writers.

That being said, I have another article to recommend, recently written by Jamie Love of Toronto Thumbs:
http://www.torontothumbs.com/2009/06/14/being-samus-and-other-metroid-musings/

I consider Jamie’s “BEING SAMUS” article one of the finest examples of game writing to date. Feel free to contradict me on that, but I really think he’s pulled something special off in that article in terms of downright making sense, as well as leaving the writing community in a better state than when he joined it

Again, glad you found something of use here. Many of those who commented on my article have blogs of their own with valuable thoughts on games. And er, don’t worry about showing up late to the party

Everyone who’s commented on this article (or the comments I’ve read so far) seem like it’d be great to talk to. Wish I could somehow get in contact with any of you guys or work with any of you guys or just SEE something you guys have written to get an idea of where the best shit in games journalism is. I don’t know, I’ll have a better comment in about 20 minutes. Assuming anyone will even respond to this old ass article.

@David – good point – absolutely. My take on it is that good game criticism *may* lead to better game development, but is not written with that goal in mind, specifically. If it is written with future game development in mind, then it has the tendency to become marketing/product development fodder.

@Ben – thank you! I’m trying to figure out a way of critiquing games through its own medium. Stay tuned.

@mbp – interesting view you bring. Hidden deep inside somewhere in this article is my opinion that consumption is undermining the prospect of meaningful games. Meaning that I don’t think game criticism should really be the same thing as game reviewing – I don’t think NGJ should be part of the build-market-review-sell cycle. (ie. I don’t think we read art critics in order to decide if we buy a painting or not).

@Paul Barnett – welcome! “Perhaps instead of NGJ you just need to find a voice, stick to your truths and hope you write in a way that sings from your soul to other gamers?” I fully agree with you here. The problem is *how* we do that without becoming opinionated narcissists, and actually offer something new to other gamers, rather than restate what we already know. And yes – we don’t need a new “system” or institution to tell us how to write about games – a few individuals can really put out some amazingly inspired work. But geez, some days it gets lonely at the bottom! Interesting that kids don’t rely on reviews – that tells us something very important I think. Perhaps reviews are no longer going to be in demand in the future.

@Nick Cooper – Wow, I hope I didn’t imply that Kieron’s writing style was narcissistic – I don’t think it is at all. You bring up some interesting points. First, I don’t mind writing for a small audience; in fact, I think writing for a small audience is the best way to ensure that what I’m writing is relevant. This page is a good example of that – it’s not exactly Rock-Paper-Shotgun . You’re absolutely correct that I’m interested in poetics as a way of writing about, and understanding, games. Despite my reliance upon it, I really, really, hate academic language in game writing. It’s not only that it alienates the audience, but it needlessly formalizes an informal tradition. Words like “ludonarrative” give me the chills, to be honest. I think your point highlights exactly what I’d like to see in game writing – insight without the academic nonsense. But again, I really do think “accessibility” is the wrong direction here. The Wii is accessible. Tic-Tac-Toe is accessible. But do we draw our greatest cultural insights from reading accessible stuff? It seems to me that “poetic” does not automatically mean accessible. In my mind it instead means insightful, penetrating, disruptive, and enlightening. There are many people out in the world not interested in poetics, and that’s fine to me. But for those of us who want a richer experience of gaming, and are willing to put the work into reading/playing/writing it, we do need some kind of poetic language to work with. Thanks for the comment.

mbp #2 – I suppose I could have been poking fun at it in retrospect, but at the time I meant what I said Criticism *can* be just as, or more important, than the thing itself. To back up that claim, take Aristotle. He is a great example of a drama/literary critic whose works are so deep and insightful that an entire civilization’s worth of literature grew out of his ideas on greek tragedies. Nobody reads Aristotle to make purchasing decisions. I think that your disagreement with me is on the basis of a completely different idea of what a game is. I’m not interested in games-as-products. I’m interested in them as works of art, big and small.

Thanks again to the amazing responses thus far!

When you said in italics “Game journalism can be just as exciting and enlightening as playing games themselves!” I thought you were poking light hearted fun at criticism that thinks it is art.

If you seriously believe that then I have to fundamentally disagree. In fact I think this “criticism as an art form” movement is a big part of the reason why we are currently so badly served by game reviews.

Criticism can never be more important than the thing itself. Criticism is a tool to aid the buying process, nothing more nothing less. Once the purchasing decision has been made the critic becomes irrelevant. The game and the playing of it are everything.

The problem is like the problem with Punk Rock, or Emo music, or pretty much anything that is cool and new and interesting to enough attract dull, influential people with insecurities. People adopt it and adapt it and join in until “They’re selling hippie wigs in Woolworths, man.”

Maybe NGJ has split like those things have; its great, ballooning corpse flying high in the parade, decrying the evils of good graphics and making very little sense; and those who get what Gillen was saying, aren’t too shy to confess they were sitting forward and goggling madly as they leapt from the moving car and scorpion kicked the MechaLich. Just like there are still people who garden quietly and put on old vinyls and wish for “Anarchy in the UK”.

Tom’s thoughts were particularly enlightening.

As a reader of AP back then, I’ve always seen Kieron’s NGJ menifesto as a modest (if massively drenched in ego) attempt to inject personal experience into a review. Narcisistic it may be, but it allows a much needed injection of what gaming is about to many people – the anecdotes, the stories, the experiences, often of the individual – which I welcome, as a reader.

As a reader of games writing, and as someone working on a socio-cultural studies PhD, I welcome this call for philosophical or academic games writing (I wonder if, once it is in this academic vein, it’s still journalism?).

That being said, whilst all the talk of ‘being-as-gamers’ and constant repetitions of ‘how’ rather than ‘why’ speak to my academic interests. You seem to be asking for a specific manner of writing for a minimal audience.

The call for the personal experience as situated in a self-critical evaluation of the wider social dynamics of games and ‘being-as-gamer’ seems to suggest a skillset that is either steeped in academic critique or poetics. Finding such writers may prove difficult, making such wirtig appeal to a wider audience is going to be even more difficult.

If the call were to be re-iterated, I would personally suggest a move away from the clearly academic form in this piece; it suggests an academic formalism which would alienate many.

Your link to the GoW article is a prime example. A good disucssion of the gender dynamics of the game, with a historiographic situation and wider issues of gender in cultural forms.

But that begs the question – could this not easily fit into a traditional review or ciritcal piece? Is it not, on rare occasions, being done already? Do you really have to talk about ‘ludonarrative’ as the GoW article does, or can and should this be made accessible.

Cutural critique can be done in an academic or poetic vein without alienating readers (even as discomforting such socio-cultural critique can be). I worry that couching your call in such clearly academic terms vastly limit the scope of this call.

If the examples you show are of people adressing the need to situate games writing in a critical analysis of the game-playing/being and wider social interactions – should not the call be, is not the important challenge, to apply that to a more accessible form of games writing?