Deep into my thirties, I’ve hit the (often memed) point of enough disposable income to afford whatever video game I want, should I choose to buy it, but not enough time to play it. Every Steam seasonal sale, I find myself picturing my aspirational leisure self with time to play deep and dedicated story-heavy JRPGs (Japanese Role-Playing Games), fantasying about the emotional roller-coaster I’m about to ride, and ultimately clicking “checkout”.
I install the game, begin playing and, like clockwork, about 25 hours in, I bail. Every. Time. And I’ve been thinking a lot about why.
I still dig the story, the game play, while no longer novel, is still pretty fun and stakes are just starting to feel real as I feel more attached to all the characters. So what’s up? Why am I giving up? Am I just getting busier? Was the time “worth” it?
This is where I am going to walk the very fine line between authentic and cringe. Vulnerability exposes you, places a spotlight on you, and inherently, if you are at risk of failing in public you are at risk of cringe.
I promise this connects.
Video games that require a work-month of time do not light up my values of: Awe, Growth, and Connection. You are welcome to cringe now.
Still here? Let’s dive in…. If they require a massive amount of grinding alone, they aren’t gonna do it for me. Eventually, I will leave them feeling a little hollow.
I love a videogame when it sparks Awe in me. When the world feels alive, exciting, and beautiful. I want to be there. I want to explore. I see it in games like Horizon: Zero Dawn, No Man’s Sky, and Death’s Door. There is something about those worlds that makes me want to talk about them. To feeeeeel them. To live in them for a moment.
Alternately, I love games that say something through their style alone: Donut Country, Hyperlight Drifter, Sable, Ori and the Blind Forest. These games are beautiful and hit my Awe button so hard that my other values can ride in the backseat for a few hours. Maybe it’s also because they are shorter, but the hollow feeling of “Why I am doing this? What is the point?” never seems louder than fleeting whisper.
I used to think story was enough to drive me through an RPG. Turns out it’s not. It can hook me, and pull me in for a while, but it won’t make me stay. If I only needed a story, I’d watch a movie, read a book, or find a new show. I think I’ve realized I come to video games for something else. I come for exploration, I come to feel, and I come to play.
Play is interactive. It is without “Capital P” ~Purpose~. It serves the growth of self through joy. It’s low pressure, it’s meaningful because it’s meaningless. It helps us find out who we are, what we like, and what we’re capable of without asking anything of us. So there it is, right in the first sentence, I like video games that help me grow.
So often growth is seen through a lens of work and measurable improvement. We often think growth should be obvious and easy to define. That should be productive. The games I love( and seem to finish) are the ones that grow my perspective on art and design, on world-building and on vibes.
Anyways, thank you for coming to my TED Talk™️ on why I am not going to finish Tales of Arise.
Talk soon(-ish),