• 5Feb 10

  Warning: Long-Winded, Pretentious Advice Follows

  "How do I become a game reviewer?" I get that question a lot, and the answer is never simple. I can tell you how I became a game reviewer, though it is far less glamorous than you'd imagine. I wrote for a few years for a site called Inside Gamer Online, which then became Gamer 2.0, without getting paid a dime, and while moderating in the GameSpot forums. Eventually, I started to freelance for GameSpy. (My first professional review was for the putrid Crime Life: Gang Wars.) Some time later, I got a call from GameSpot and made an important life decision: I moved across the country to become part of a team I greatly admired.

  The most important thing you can do before becoming a professional reviewer is to know and understand the greatest tool of your trade: The written word. No matter how tight your connections and how strong your evaluation skills, you probably won't join a major publication unless you have a good command of language, and the talent to use that language to communicate your point of view. That doesn't mean I think of myself as some sort of game reviewing guru; I am just a guy that happens to be pretty good at writing, so I don't want to sound like a pretentious snob! But I'm lucky to work with the best, and the best part of working with the best game writers in the business is that we learn from each other. The more I read the work of my peers, the better my own writing becomes, and I hope that I can inspire them in the same way.

  In any case, a lot of people ask me for advice, so I hope the thoughts I have cobbled together help aspiring critics out there. Please take things with a healthy dose of reality; every publication cultivates its own style, so perhaps my advice isn't universal. But I hope that my musings might offer armchair critics looking to make it big something to think about.

  

  This book's most important advice: "Omit needless words." Lose the adverbs and tighten up the writing. And here you thought Charlotte's Web and Stuart Little were E.B. White's finest achievements!

  1 -- Know the rules of grammar and punctuation, and spell correctly.

  This is basic advice that probably sounds silly to you. You may be surprised, however, at how lightly some take the English language. All the minutiae your teachers tossed at you is meaningful. Diagramming sentences isn't very compelling, but it's the basis for understanding the structure of our language. Knowing the difference between "its" and "it's," knowing that "Ludacris" is not the same as "ludicrous," knowing that a "mute" point is not the same as a "moot" one--these are important bits of knowledge. And don't leave out the dots and squiggles we use to punctuate the written language. Learning when to use a colon ( : ) and a semicolon ( ; ) is just as important as knowing the difference between "they're," "there," and "their."

  This isn't the place for me to hammer on the basics; there are volumes written about the form and style of the language. Start with Strunk & White's The Elements of Style. For punctuation, I am a huge fan of Lynne Truss's Eats, Shoots, & Leaves. There are (shockingly) a lot of entertaining books about grammar out there, so don't worry that reading about language has to be as tedious as watching the grass grow.

  

  Knowledge is power!

  2 -- Read a lot.

  Read. Voraciously. And I don't just mean game reviews. Read everything you can, and don't limit yourself to Tom Clancy and Stephen King--and don't avoid them either! There is so much to learn from other writers, and even if you don't consciously analyze everything you take in, it still seeps into you. But next time you read a book, pay closer attention. If you like something, ask yourself: What makes that passage so good? You might be surprised to discover all the tricks you learned in English class at work. A good metaphor or a bit of alliteration can have an enormous effect. (Aside: I am a big fan of alliteration. You shouldn't force it, but choosing the right words can make all the difference. "Far-flung fields" and "distant meadows" mean the same thing, but the alliteration on the former phrase might help the sentence sing, while the latter snippet might make it sink like a stone.) Take notice of these things and try to incorporate them in your own writing. Which reminds me:

  3 -- Don't stick to a precise format.

  Experiment. It's good to have an idea of the points you want to hit, and it's good to start out working with a comfortable format. But eventually, try to move away from the dry template of intro-story-gameplay-graphics-conclusion. Sometimes the old chestnut format is perfectly fine. But when you finish a game, the things that mattered most to you don't always adhere to such a cut and dry formula, do they? If story doesn't matter in a particular game, why start with it? Let the game help you decide how you should write about it. Killzone 2's story doesn't stand out; that's why I didn't write about it until the bottom of the first page of the review. In addition, while its visuals were astounding, I wanted to communicate to the reader that this wasn't just another pretty game--that its most important feature was its core shooting action. That's why I didn't start by mentioning the visuals, though I knew most other reviewers probably would.

  See if you can do the same. Play with language and don't feel as if you need to put your thoughts in some rigid, pre-ordained order. That doesn't mean to throw random thoughts at the page; you still have to organize your points. (Don't talk about the story in paragraph two, and then start in again on it in paragraph six, unless you have a good reason for doing so.) But try letting the game inspire how you write about it. If it's a beautiful game like Okami, write in flowery language that bursts with imagery. If it's Condemned, use bright, punchy words. Play with language and see what happens.

  

  This novel had a big impact on me. Let your favorite authors inspire you.

  4 -- Avoid cliches.

  This is a tough one, because cliches don't start as cliches, but are born from overuse. I find them creeping into my own writing all the time and have to be incredibly careful, because they can enter my vocabulary and are hard to remove. Here are some of my least favorite game writing cliches. Feel free to add some of your own in the comments below!

  -- "The graphics are a mixed bag." This chestnut makes my skin crawl. Never use the phrase "mixed bag." Want to know why? Google the above phrase, in quotes, and see how many reviews appear. You'll immediately understand why.

  -- "A helping of gaming goodness," or similar phrases. Don't do that. That one's older than that phrase about things being older than your grandma.

  -- "The blah-blah-blah series started in 1990 with the advent of blah-blah-blah." Feel free to mention previous games if you are reviewing a sequel! But you don't need to devote an entire paragraph listing the history of a franchise. It's the fastest way to get me to click away from the page.

  -- "I'm a big fan of XYZ." It doesn't matter. Which leads me to:

  5 -- Remember that it's about the game, not about you.

  I'm not against use of the first person (in other words, using "I" in a review), though GameSpot review policy is that we don't use first-person point of view, with occasional exceptions made for "we." But whether or not you use "I," don't forget that you are evaluating a game, not writing an essay about your life or gaming habits. Try to avoid beginning your reviews like this: "I was a big fan of the original Ninja Gaiden." Or, "I played with Transformers when I was a kid, so I was excited to play the latest Transformers game." Or, "When I heard that David Jaffe was working on a new Monster Hunter game, I definitely had my reservations." (Side note: I made that up. Don't get too worried that David Jaffe is making a Monster Hunter game!) The reason to avoid a similar statement is simple: It's irrelevant.

  This can sometimes be taken to absurd levels. Entire paragraphs may be dedicated to gaming theory, what the author thinks of the current direction of DLC, or treatises on the future of adventure games. Reviews are evaluations of a product. I'm not against giving the reader some context, but I think it's absolutely important to remember that the review isn't about you--it's about the game. If you spend any amount of time writing about something that has nothing to do with your evaluation, consider approaching the review differently. This harks back to my earlier point: Let the game decide how you should write about it.

  

  Stephen King's greatest advice, from his great book On Writing: "Murder your babies." If you are in love with something you wrote but it doesn't make the article better, lose it. Even if it makes you cry.

  6 -- Think critically.

  One thing I've learned over time is that there is a difference between "I liked this game a lot" and "this is a superb game." I am thankful that I had such great mentors as Alex Navarro, Greg Kasavin, Jeff Gerstmann, and Justin Calvert. They taught me that the final experience is what matters, but that the experience needs to be put in context. I might have fun with a game, and obviously fun is important--but that's not all that matters. Learning how to think critically is just as important, and just as time-consuming, as learning the written craft. It takes time, but I think it's helpful to remember two things.

  Firstly, just because you like a game doesn't make it a 9/10, or an A, or a five-star game. It's easy to get caught up in an experience, but don't forget all the other times you had similar experiences. Is the game really great--or is it just good? Is it really as awesome as that game you played last week, which you also thought was "ohmygod 10/10!?" This doesn't mean that you shouldn't express your opinion and back it up! But remember to stay grounded in reality. This is why you should play as many games as you can: You need to give yourself a frame of reference. If the game gives you that buzz that only the special games can, shower it with praise! But if every positive review you write is so glowing that you can navigate your basement with it, you might need to step back a bit.

  Secondly, don't be a slave to the public school interpretation of scores. This is less of an issue if you are working with a 5-star system, but the A-F and 0-10 (or 0-100) scales come with a vast amount of baggage stored away in our minds. I was guilty of this myself when I was writing at Inside Gamer Online. A 6/10 seemed so incredibly low to me then, and we're all attached to this specific system we learn at school that tells us that 70% is something to be ashamed of. This is, I believe, why you may see generally lower scores coming from European publications than American ones. European schools don't structure grades the way we do in the US; the stigma attached to these kinds of scores is unique to us.

  ---

  Take all of this advice with an open mind. I'm not a genius, just a dude that loves what he does for a living. But I think this is sensible advice that's worked well for me, though the lessons didn't all come easy. I'm still growing as a writer, but as long as I continue to love games and love the written word, I plan to keep writing. If you ever want me to take a look at something you've written, I try to offer feedback whenever someone asks. It might take time, but I usually follow up!

  In the meanwhile, feel free to follow me on Twitter, where I frequently hand out plenty of pointless advice free of charge, and without being asked!

  • Posted Feb 5, 2010 7:39 pm PT
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• 22Jan 10

  The Problem of Genre

  I've been thinking about the subject of game genres a lot since reading some of the comments in our Game of the Year feature. A few folks here and there question calling The Sims 3 a strategy game--and I even notice from time to time comments from readers that wonder if Demon's Souls is a role-playing game. The answers are relatively simple (we've always considered The Sims series to be strategy as opposed to simulation, and Demon's Souls is absolutely an RPG), but these queries point to a much more interesting dilemma: How should games be classified in an era when the lines between genres continue to blur, and is the idea of genre itself antiquated?

  The Sims is an excellent place to begin searching for answers. If you thought to ask, "Why do you classify The Sims as a strategy game?" then consider the alternative: Classifying it as a simulation. You could certainly suggest that The Sims simulates life and therefore belongs in that category--but would the confusion be diminished if you saw a simulation game-of-the-year category that included Microsoft Flight Simulator, Silent Hunter, and... The Sims? Do those games have any more in common with The Sims than do Dawn of War and Plants Vs. Zombies? Not really. I could even throw something in like Forza or Gran Turismo, but driving sims get classified as driving games, and would just further convolute the issue. What, then, for a genre-defying game like The Sims 3? We're forced to put it in a category, and strategy seems like as good a place as any.

  

  The Sims 3: bending genders, and genres.

  Then what do we do with games that meld genres together to the point where it's difficult to say that the game's one thing over the other? Sometimes, it's just feature creep. Warcraft III has RPG elements, but it's still a real-time strategy game; Wolfenstein and Army of Two let you customize and upgrade weapons, but I wouldn't think of calling them anything but shooters. But what about, say, Spellforce, which is a pretty complex amalgam of strategy and role-playing? Or how about tactical RPGs like Valkyria Chronicles or Final Fantasy Tactics? Should we call them RPGs, or strategy games? We ponder this kind of dilemma every year when planning our GOTY feature. This year, Trials HD, Henry Hatsworth, and A Boy and his Blob were thorns in our sides. What exactly is Trials HD? Is it really a racing game just because you control a motorcycle and are under pressure from the clock? Is it a puzzle game, forcing you to solve dilemmas brought upon you by the game's physics? Or is it a platformer, forcing you to overcome obstacles in order to go from point A to point B? In 2008, Braid was a troublesome entry. Is it a platformer, because you climb ladders and do lots of jumping, or is it a puzzle game, because of the way you have to manipulate time?

  My brain hurts from all these considerations. I've heard some argue that gaming is stagnant, because too many games so neatly fit into a simple category, but I don't believe that. In fact, I think the idea of putting games into neat categories is becoming increasingly convoluted. If you think that it's been too long since we had a "brand new genre" in the way that games like Doom and Wolfenstein 3D introduces first-person shooters, you should think again. Instead, we've simply pigeonholed genre-breaking games into existing classifications. I think of tower defense games as their own genre, but they've fit neatly into the strategy category. Puzzle Quest has initiated a follow-the-leader string of puzzle RPGs. Borderlands is a shooter, sure, but it feels more akin to a loot-heavy action RPG like Diablo than a typical FPS. Then you have all sorts of indie games, from Blueberry Garden to Flower to Flow to Eufloria, some of which fall into this hypothetical category of "ambient games," but are still sequestered into neat boxes so we can make them fit into a genre.

  

  The finest city-building game ever. Stop looking at me funny. What would you call it?

  But for what reason, really? I get that maybe you aren't into shooters, for example, and want to have general ideas of what games are like to play. But let's say you like RPGs but not shooters; what happens to a game like Mass Effect 2, which features stop-and-pop Gears-of-War/Uncharted-style action? Do you play it because we call it an RPG and you like those, and then dislike it because you don't like that kind of shooting? Or maybe you love it, because the action has a different kind of context than it does in "pure" shooters. Point being: Does sequestering games into genres make sense anymore?

  You could make the same argument for films, television, and literature as well, actually. Even there, answers that seem simple aren't as clear as they first appear. Is Star Wars science fiction, or fantasy? My unusually level-headed coworker Lark Anderson thinks it's a western, which sounds silly, but makes perfect sense. After all, when developing Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry described it as "Wagon Train to the stars," so a comparison between westerns and Star Wars doesn't seem so odd. Star Wars also has much in common with the old serial adventures, and is based heavily on Kurosawa's film The Hidden Fortress. So if you think of Star Wars as sci-fi, wipe the slate clean and take a closer look. Maybe you'll rethink the idea of categorization.

  And so it is with games. We like to put games in compartments because it makes them easier to describe and understand. It's unlikely the concept of genre will disappear in games, but even so, take this opportunity to dismiss your notions of what genres you like, and which you don't. You might have overlooked a game you would have fallen in love with simply because you "don't like that kind of thing." Genres may be here to stay, but maybe it's time to approach games with a clean slate.

  Your task this month: Play a high-quality game in a genre you decided at some point that you don't like. Maybe you'll still feel the same way. And maybe--just maybe--you'll fall in love with a game you never imagined you could.

  • Posted Jan 22, 2010 2:21 pm PT
  • Category: Editorial
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• 7Jan 10

  Fun With Kevin's Inbox, Part... Huh?

  Full disclosure: This was actually forwarded to me from someone else in the office, but I think it is too delightful not to share.

  From: ****
  Sent: Wednesday, January 06, 2010 8:51 PM
  To: ****
  Subject: Dubious Honors? Millions of readers daily? I am worried about sequels...

  I think there is a real ideology beyond economic considerations of novelty where old games may no longer be... FIXED. I am thinking of Game Boy s first Final Fantasy. It contains a musical theme I contend is mine and ended up there as Manzanita was an aquaintance of one-of my mothers. But the game is by far the best RPG on its line (sprite, vs Fallout, Nethack, Baldur s), and it is not being republished. I ve found more than one _sabotage_ in games, where the EXACT SAME game with a correction would be more welcomed than a sequel, but it does not happen. These sabotagesare schizophrenicin origin, understandable, explainable and QA does not filter them. Now I see that you take it into consideration! Is it a prize or a punishment? Code maturity is lost if the game attempts to be new instead of a better version. I can name several examples. But now you publish there were less weekly novelties! Do you really have MILLIONS daily looking into videogames? Areyou considering migration to phones and such? I cant find fora with more than, say, 22000 visitors or polls with more than, 2200 votes, 1500 average. If that s the whole internet space, we are losing it! WHO has the means to locate people online, physically? Is Network Solutions beyond ideologies and purely economics and customer oriented? Do you have to fight with polices, who can be proven are schizophrenic prone? Schizophrenic means entropy, flatline and negation. If I keep using the internetbut end up finding the exact 20+ families and varieties, were does that leave us?

  • Posted Jan 7, 2010 12:55 pm PT
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