I started reviewing videogames professionally in 1993, when Genesis and SNES roamed the earth. Over the next 15 years I worked for magazines and websites like GamePro, GamesRadar, Official Xbox Magazine, and World Of Warcraft Official Magazine, while freelancing for Wired, PC Gamer, and many others. In an attempt to guide the next generation of reviewers, I wrote and published Critical Path: How to Review Videogames For A Living in February. Ask away!
The top frustration is the assumption that all reviewers are on being paid by publishers for their postiive reviews. I have seen so many allegations of corruption that stem not from evidence but from differences of opinion. If I give a game a 9 but you were expecting a 7, then I'm on the take -- "obviously." If I give it a 7 but you were expecting it to get a 9, suddenly that means I'm taking money from a rival publisher to keep its score low. To be accused of a crime like that and assumed guilty is the single most frustrating and difficult part of reviewing games professionally. Worse than any deadline, any unstable early build, or any inconvenience the game or the job's real responsibilities might offer. And that people feel it's okay to smear your professional reptuation with an unfounded allegation like that -- and others blindly agree "yeah, you're probably right" without a shred of evidence -- is absolutely infuriating to those of us who take great pride in being the reader's most trusted resource. I spent 15 years reviewing games and I still drive the car I owned when I moved to California in 1996. I was never approached with a bribe or some sort of compensation for my positive opinion. Maybe I was simply not important enough -- or maybe it's a myth that gamers like to perpetuate because it makes them feel better about whatever emotions they have already invested in a game they've never played.
Sure, and the opposite is also true -- strong start, lousy finish. You have to stay open minded throughout the entire process; you have to allow yourself to be not only impartial but also impressed. That means that while my first impressions are usually indicative of where the review will go, they are just first impressions, and I have to let the game teach me about itself.
The social experience has simply changed, I think. I could not have dreamed of a day when I'd have voice chat while playing something as sophisticated as we have now. My mom never liked it when I went into arcades because of all the unsavory elements you heard about -- people getting into fights, people dealing drugs, you name it. It's a dark room; bad things are invited by that, I guess. So while I never had any issues (one guy did try to hustle me out of money if I could beat him at NBA Jam, but I declined), the worst someone can do over Xbox Live is call me names. And they do, all the time -- but they can only *virtually* stab me, which is a rarely touted plus.. My social experience with gaming is now on a headset, hanging with friends as we play WoW or COD -- we talk about things other than the game, but game discussions like "OMG I aggroed the spiders HALP HALP HALP" takes priority. People still like playing games with people, but I no longer believe you need to be in the same room to have a quality interaction. I guess the big thing that's been lost is "good game." When you play someone in person, you have to acknowledge them, and there was often a begrudging sense of sportsmanship. Now we have people who instantly mute everybody else in a lobby, which means they don't hear compliments and they don't work as a team to win. Imagine playing football with earbuds in, intentionally blocking out all of your teammates -- then blaming everybody else for sucking. That's admittedly a situation I don't think I would find in arcades.
NHL Open Ice.
SWAT Team Commander (Retired)
How much protection do those bomb disposal suits really provide?Navy Officer (Former)
Just how educated is the typical US military serviceman?Waitress
Are you instructed to "push" certain menu items that are at risk of going bad?Well, buying a game and being given a walkthrough document are not the same thing. Most of the time, the publisher would supply me with a copy of the game -- sometimes final retail boxed copies, but because I spent so much time on print magazines, it was more often pre-release 100% or "near 100%" versions of the game that would run on special development hardware (or in the case of the older cartridge-based games, an EPROM, which was a naked circuit board with interchangable chips). These pre-release versions were necessary in the days of print if you wanted to have the review appear in the magazine around the same time that it became available in stores, since print magazines had, on average, a six-week "lead time" between the time they'd need the game and the time the issues would appear in mailboxes. Pre-release games always had to be returned or, once we got into CD-ROM based games, destroyed after we were done reviewing them -- the choice was up to the game company as to whether they wanted it back or they trusted us to shatter the disc. A build that could not be accounted for when it was asked to be returned was (and still is!) a serious offense. On occasion I would receive retail games for review and then I'd be asked to return them or even pass them on to another reviewer who was next in line -- Working Designs requested that with a few of their Sega CD games. Often when the game was done, your media outlet would get a copy of the final game for their permanent reference library, and if the PR team had any to spare, they might send one or two extra copies for the editors to keep for themselves. But the first copy, if one was sent, always went to the archive, to be used for future research, sequel comparison, cheat code testing, strategy guide work, or whatever else you might need it for down the road. I have bought plenty of games that I reviewed simply because I wanted a personal copy; freebies were nice, but not something to be expected. Almost always, a review game came with a fact sheet, and sometimes those games came with a walkthrough document, which would actually offer instructions on exactly how to get through the first two or three levels. These were really for people who were not specialist reviewers in games -- they were really for the newspaper entertainment reporter whose natural field was movie or music reviews, but who had to cover games as part of their assignments, even if it wasn't really their area of expertise. For most enthusiast publications, a walkthrough wasn't needed, but the fact sheet made sure we got the spelling of the development studio's name right, the number of players in multiplayer, things like that. Every reviewer has a different process for reviewing a game; mine was to start playing and take notes as I played through. Most of the time, my first instincts were correct, so the phrases and descriptions that came to mind while the game was fresh usually wound up making it into the final review. As I played through the rest of the game, I was constantly taking more notes and refining my comments with specific examples. I set up my desk so my game machine and writing computer were at 90-degree or 180-degree angles, so I could easily swivel my chair, type out a phrase or sentence in full, then unpause the game and keep going. It's still the way I like to do it today. Then the actual writing is a series of self-edits, as you make a cohesive argument or take a position, then refine it and reduce the word count, making it more efficient with each edit. That part just takes practice.
Of course! This is not a trail I blazed. Some of the earliest game journalists were Arnie Katz, Bill Kunkel, and Joyce Worley; they proved that intelligent analysis and criticism could be formed back in the early 80s. The magazine they worked on, Electronic Games, was my constant companion and led the way. Some more info on them: http://www.vghmuseum.org/collections/the-katz-kunkel-worley-journalistic-archive/
When I got to college and started reviewing different forms of art and media, I actually started with music. I remember reading a review of Prince of Persia 2 for PC by Zach Meston in Video Games & Computer Enteratinment magazine, edited by Andy Eddy, and thought "This is EXACTLY the kind of writing I want to do -- smart breakdowns of what the game does and does not deliver." My college professor was less enthused and didn't give it much credence, despite my bringing her examples of what I felt was good writing in that very very young sector.
I did wind up as a music journalist upon graduation, but a few editors asked if I was interested in games too, as they had some extra assignments. I jumped at the chance and I soon went full-time with games. I moved from NYC to SF to work with none other than Andy Eddy on a new project!
So yes, it was taken seriously, as others had forged the path long before I got there. Yet in some ways I think it might still not be taken seriously. We'll get there. It's evolving.
The short and unpopular answer: First, polish your writing skills so they are worthy of a publication, then approach outlets and ask them if they use freelance writers. Nobody will approach you; you really have to take the initiative and inquire at editorial outlets if you want to write for them. Many will say no; some may say yes. If they do, you have to be ready to accept all the responsibilities that go with it. They do not want to teach you as you figure it all out. I know this sounds like a bad plug, but answering this question is why I wrote Critical Path. This was the top question I got over those 15 years, so I wanted answer it in detail for people who were truly serious about chasing this as a career (not just looking for free games). If you are serious, the 320-page answer to this question is for you.
Depends on the game, but all games work with a budget. Do you spend money on an actor (or a consultant) or do you give the team that money so they can hire another texture artist or lighting specialist? Go easy on 'em; they all had multiple priorities to deal with, and nobody's success was guaranteed.
Depends on the situation. Consider how many times you've heard someone say "I was looking forward to this game but it's only getting a 78 on Metacritic, so I think I might skip it." I hear it a lot, and I've let other people's reviews affect my buying decisions myself, so I think it's pretty common that a review can change people's minds from undecided to either yes or no -- but I am less sure that you can change someone from no to yes or yes to no if they started at either extreme, just from a really strong review. If it's one really good or really bad review -- say, everybody hates it except that one reviewer -- it probably won't move the needle. But a strong endorsement from a major outlet, or a particularly compelling assessment of a game can shift people's perspective...assuming they want it shifted. That's part of the key -- many people look to reviews not for buying advice but for confirmation that the decision they have already made (skip it, buy it, rent it) is "the right one." If they are not there to receive the advice in the way it's intended, you're not going to change their mind. In the press or in the audience, nobody likes to be that one lone dissenting opinion, for sure. I used to get nasty mails for reviews that simply didn't match what the reader wanted them to say -- my assessment didn't affect their buying decision because they'd already made that decision, but it might have made them look like "they bought the wrong game" if they were insecure about it in the first place. If preordering that game made them look uncool, then it's the negative reviewer's fault for calling that mistake to light. And then they tear me a new one. We actually got a really nasty, insulting complaint at GamePro for giving Metroid Prime a 4.5 out of 5 instead of the top score of 5 out of 5. This was someone who was not looking for a review to inform their buying decision, you know? On the publisher side, being able to say you got a high Metacritic ranking or a 10 out of 10 from a major outlet does give you serious buzz and a weapon for your marketing arsenal; it can put a game into someone's awareness where it wasn't before. So yes, there, good reviews can affect sales if properly amplified. But more organically, a good review can also create great word of mouth. Gamers trust their friends more than they usually trust an editorial outlet, because those friends are having the same gaming experiences as they are, in real time; they are going through these games together. The press is already a lap ahead of them so it's not a shared experience, and they're not facing the same purchasing decision as the audience either. But if a writer you trust says "really, give this a shot," and you mention that to your friends, that could be a tipping point for your entire peer group, and then that can spread. A lot of indie games find success with larger audiences this way, and reviews can be part of what helps make a louder noise for them.
I'm really not much of a prognosticator, nor am I an engineer. I don't make the games and I don't have a functional knowledge of the technology required to create them, so I don't have a good perspective on the next big thing. Besides, if I knew the answer to this, I'd be investing heavily in it. :) I do think digital distribution is inevitable -- it's a good idea and it's worked so far -- so I expect there to be more and more games bought digitally, and the storage media sizes will climb to meet it.
Doom in 1993 is the first thing that leaps to mind. Wolfenstein 3D had established the first-person genre at that point (it wasn't the first first-person perspective game, but it was the first really badass one), but Doom's curved surfaces and advanced lighting simply weren't thought to be possible at that point. It redefined what games could be. Half-Life then showed what you could do narratively with the genre in 1998 and everybody noticed. I like to remind people that Half-Life was 18 months "late" from original release projections, which caused gamers to grouse like crazy...but once everybody got the game, the only topic of discussion was the experience itself. Both of those games altered the course of the industry.
All of them, because I don't plan to have kids. :) But I honestly don't believe there is a significant game that future generations won't be able to play. With the combined forces of emulation, flea markets, eBay, and serious undertakings like the Digital Game Museum (http://www.digitalgamemuseum.org/) I can't think of a reason that any significant game would be forgotten or completely out of reach.
Yes, several times -- it is inevitable, since every review really is just an opinion. It should be a researched, experienced, and backstopped opinion -- but you are always risking the possibility that your opinion is not in line with other people's. The original Need for Speed -- the one for 3DO -- was a game that did not impress me. I thought it was too slow, especially considering the name. I came in on the very very low end of that game's public reaction and I took heat for it. I gave Space Giraffe for XBLA a 2 out of 10, while others gave it a 10 out of 10. That was a very polarizing game, but when the developer goes after you and calls you rude names in public about the review...well, ouch. But as long as my opinion is explained -- illustrated by specific points, put in the context of the experience or other experiences that the player could obtain -- I think that's just part of the job. You roll with it. It's why you have to be diligent with writing every single review and never half-assing it, because you will be challenged on it; it's just a question of how dramatically and by how many people. I think a lot of people assume that a review that falls outside of the average is "wrong," but it really should not be seen that way. Every review is information to help you make your own decision about whether that game is worth your time and money, and it should never tell you what to think. When I see one that's off the trend, I see if it has something of value to say before I discredit it.
I tackled this in another question, but I think the worst games I ever reviewed were Combat Cars for the Genesis (a top down racer with no mini-map) and Chicago Enforcer for Xbox, which was a very very bad 1930s FPS. The AI, the graphics, the music...nothing about the game really met my expectations for what even a budget Xbox game should be. I was amazed that it made it through certification. I also remember really disliking No Escape, which was a Genesis game based on a Ray Liotta sci-fi movie. A go-right shooter, sort of like Contra but far worse, with no checkpoints. It was brutal.
Little confused by the phrasing here, so I will try to answer. Most press kits are a stack of paper, or rather, a zip file of screens and Word documents. I saved the Interstate 76 folder and papers because it is one of my favorite games of all time. The games themselves that you get for review -- if they are final retail copies, which they may or may not be -- usually become the property of the magazine, unless the publisher wants them back, and they sometimes do. Pre-release copies of games have to be returned or destroyed. Check the question about the process of reviewing a game for a more detailed answer on this one. I am proud to have held on to my copy of Earthbound for SNES. I really enjoyed that game (one of the few RPGs that I got into) and it has turned out to be rather rare/collectible. I also have a copy of an obscure Xbox game called Circus Maximus signed by the whole dev team; I was one of the very few reviewers who really liked that game, so when they sent me a personal copy, it was autographed by 50 people.
Many times games would be 95% done, or "RC1" -- release candidate 1 -- meaning "we think it's done, it's being approved now by the first-party companies.": But my job was to evaluate, not offer advice for improvement; by the time it reached my hands, it was ready for judgment. A few times we got demos ahead of time and the publisher would overtly ask for design feedback, but it was something of an etiquette breach; most publishers hire consultants during development (many of whom are ex-media) to tell them what they feel the game needs and what score it is likely to receive in its current state. So the reviewer is really there to serve the potential customer, not the publisher.
Sure, why not? There is no expiration date on loving your hobby, even if it's your job. One of my mentors is Andy Eddy, who has several years on me and jokingly calls himself "the oldest gamer." You're gaining wisdom and more information, which really puts a review in a more authoritative context. When you are reading the review of a 20-year-old, they have only been playing games attentively for maybe 10 years. When you read the review of a 40-year-old, you have three times as much experience going into that opinion. So older writers definitely have value...says the older writer. And I have no reason to fall out of love with my lifelong hobby.
I have a specialty and most reviewers acquire one. I was not a sports guy when I was reviewing games, except for action-oriented sports games like NBA Jam or NFL Street. Simulation sports games were reserved for experts who really knew the depth of those franchises and could give better advice. My specialties have been music games, skateboarding games, and arcade racers, but I didn't do many JRPGs, as it wouldn't do the reader much good to to the reader to have someone who was not naturally drawn to and informed on that genre do a review.
I realized I was a writer in college, and on my first job at Guitar World, I learned that you had to be able to write about anything if you are truly going to call yourself a writer. So I specialize in entertainment stuff -- I've written movie reviews, music reviews, feature stories, news items -- but I have also written -- but I can, with a little practice, write other things too. More grown-up things, if you will. My mom spent 25 years as a bookkeeper. I do not have her gift for math, but I went to work with her one summer during college, in another department, in the typing pool at an insurance company. For me, it was a little taste of hell. New Jersey's drivers license numbers are 17 digits long and a mix of alphanumerics. At the time (early 90s) they were still hand-typing insurance cards on electric typewriters. I had a strict hour for lunch and was not allowed to leave my desk for other reasons. I was not allowed to get up to go home until a bell rang. This is in a company that has existed for decades. A bell. And when it rang, people RAN away from their desks. I could not believe it -- and I have never seen a less healthy work environment. Thankfully my mother has retired; I now check the news hoping to hear that the company has gone out of business, or perhaps burned to the ground. So when my parents said "what do you WANT to do for a career," I thought about what I thought my strengths were and what I found satisfacting doing, and I set about doing that. I then put a colossal amount of work into making that career happen -- lots of cold calls, lots of awkward introductions, lots of unpaid writing for exposure and establishing myself -- because I knew what I would wind up doing if I didn't. You're basically asking me if I wish I had chosen a job where the topic was less fun. The answer is no. :)
It's a big community; I think there's some of both. The negative gamer stereotype is not going away; you could argue that's because of cruel jokes being so common and tolerated, or you could argue that it's because they are based in fact. The very thin distinction is that the South Park guys are themselves huge WoW fans and players; they are equal opportunity offenders, so they are making fun of themselves along with everybody else they make fun of. So some gamers took that episode as an offense, and some took it as a signifying self-mocking. I laughed. I also laughed at the "Guitar Queer-O" episode they did. Would it be worth the time and energy to get offended anyway?
Well, let's differentiate between "journalism" and "reviews." I don't think a review should ever be a casual, on-the-surface look at a game. I think you need to go deep, but it's about what you are analyzing -- the artistic elements or the value proposition. Other forms of criticism are the same way -- some folks write and read movie reviews as artistic commentary on the work, other people just want to know if it's worth their time and money this weekend. It's very difficult to say one approach is better than the other, because both have merit and value -- but neither is a surface scan. Both require deep thought and careful creative analysis to be worth anything. For the larger realm of "journalism," some of my favorite pieces (that I've read and that I've written) have been personality focused. I had a fantastic conversation with Cliff Bleszinski between Gears 2 and 3 where we talked not about either game so much as his place in the industry, and his accidental role as one of the five or six game designers people could actually name. Feature-length pieces that show you insight into a developer or what makes them tick, or offer a look at a trend that affects gaming as a whole...I think those are valuable too. But again, they don't strike me as casual or on the surface just because they are less product-focused. So I guess the takeaway is never do casual on-the-surface looks at games and call it a form of journalism. :)
I played one of those -- it was called There. I was disappointed that there was not much to do. I could race buggies with my friends and hang out in social circles, but...otherwise, not enough structure to feel like I had a reason to return. I've spent serious time with City of Heroes, WoW, and SWTOR, and I liked all of them for different reasons -- but I don't think removing the level structure would have made them better. I guess the real answer to your question is "show me the design document or give me a demo." :)
It can take the fun out, if you let it. One of the worst but most common problems with the job is that the people who do it can become cynical -- they forget why they loved games and they start actively hating games. I think this is because before you get the job, your strongest memories are your best memories -- you remember the games that made you feel the greatest highs, and then you wind up with a job where there are many more mediocre to bad games than there are transcendent ones, and that's what you spend most of your time writing about. It's very easy to start focusing on the negative, and then believe that nothing can ever be good again. So that factors into how you start seeing games as a chore instead of the escape that they once were. I touched on this in one of the other answers, but it's really a personal path at that point -- you have to will yourself not to turn into a jaded jerk. You have to remind yourself that games are fun, and even if the last three weren't, the next one very well may be. In the book, I suggest that you have to leave yourself open to be amazed. (This is part of the free Kindle you can get from Amazon, by the way, if you want to read that part.) Gaming only really felt like a chore when I had to work weekends. It might seem like "Oh, poor baby, you have to play a game this weekend" -- but when that game isn't a good one, or might be plagued by pre-release bugs, then it really does become a chore. You start wishing you could paint the house or rake the leaves instead. It's frustrating enough to have to replay a level over and over because you can't figure out how to get past a part or beat a boss; it's extra frustrating when the reason you are restarting is because the console crashes due to a software error...and that's something you cannot fix as the reviewer. But your responsibility is to hit that deadline, so now you have to call your editor, who has to call the company, and you're in limbo until it's all worked out...but the clock is still ticking. That really, really makes it feel like a chore, to have a responsibility that you cannot fulfill. I don't think I ever fantasized about going back to being a "civilian gamer," as you put it, but I did constantly remind myself how other "normal" people saw and played games. I regularly discussed games with friends outside of the industry, gamers who did the normal thing of buying three, maybe four games a year and sampling the rest by borrowing from friends or renting. They didn't get to play as many games as I did, but they had more of an investment in the game they played, in both time and money. So I always felt like I needed to ground myself in reality, and remember that when I write, I am writing for people other than myself. My experience is valid, but I have to incorporate the audience's expectations and needs, too. If you lose sight of your audience, you can no longer do them any good.
I don't know the current statistics on the percentage of female game players. I'm a reviewer, not a statistician. :) And I think we've both seen games that are marketed directly to female players, so it seems pretty clear that publishers do.
I think the earlier answer about Combat Cars being one of the worst games I ever reviewed counts here -- a top-down 16-bit racer with no minimap. No prediction of where the turns are coming, so it was just one wall after another. You were expected to learn the tracks by trial and error and then memorize them. Fail.
I believe there are certain elements that all gamers feel are valuable, so I draw on them: an engaging story, a sense of progression and advancement, an abundance of experiences that elicit interesting emotional responses. Pretty graphics, cool music -- they're part of the mix, but they're not as important as what the game does to you or for you. All gamers do not hold all those elements as equally important, nor do all games do not try to incorporate all those elements -- no big story to Tetris, for instance. So while a lot of games have similar goals or components and a lot of gamers expect similar things when they play a game, I've never found a way to truly approach it scientifically, with empirical accuracy. You are evaluating both art and science -- storytelling and emotional resonance, plus technical aptitude -- so you can't use only one or the other to build an opinion. I have worked from templates in the past that leaned heavily toward to the science side -- more like checklists. Rate the graphics; rate the sound; rate the controls. The trick became how to express those elements in a description of the overall experience -- to drop in phrases about those specific things in the discussion of what the game offers as a whole, which strikes me as a more artistic endeavor. Reviewing is analytical writing, but if it feels analytical when you read it, you are doing the audience a disservice. They don't want scientific data so much as personal insight into how that game might make them feel if and when they choose to play it, or even buy it. And if you are dealing with feelings, I think the whole thing leans more toward art. Value is tricky, because some people want X amount of hours of gameplay for Y dollars. Other people don't care about the length of an experience, but how it affects them. I'm one of those people who loved Portal from the first day I sat down to review it. I knew going in it was going to be a 3 to 4 hour experience. Didn't bother me at all -- the quality of those three hours was so amazing and surprising and joyful to me that I still smile every time I think about the game. Whereas I've played 15-hour games where I was begging the thing to end already. Yet some people felt Portal was too short to be worth their money (even though watching a non-interactive theatrical movie for roughly the same money is a shorter experience!). There is an inherent money-is-time value for them, and if the campaign of a $60 single-player game isn't at least 10 hours, they feel ripped off. Sometimes 10 isn't even enough. And if they can burn through a $60 game in 6 hours? It often does not matter how good those six hours are; they walk away angry. The value is not there. But it might have been for me. So I can't quantitatively evaluate the overall value of a game for someone who has different values. I can absolutely say "this is what I found valuable, based on this criteria," and then they can determine if that matches what is valuable to them as well. That's how a review is supposed to work -- here's my opinion, and how I came to it; use it as you form your own.
You know those were created by the guy who also created the first Easter egg in games, right? Warren Robinett, creator of the Atari 2600 classic Adventure, where he snuck his name in as a credit in a secret room. Awesome.
Not really. Publishers love those kinds of quotes from the media, and they want to use them whenever they can. Everybody wants to be Game of the Year according to someone, and really, the only consensus is when multiple independent editorial outlets all come to the same conclusion -- which happens some years and doesn't other years. Every year at the E3 Expo, the Game Critics Awards offers its best of show stuff, and that is a panel of judges from dozens of the top editorial outlets -- but that group of judges does not reconvene at the end of the year when the games are actually finished.
No. Games are like films or books -- very much a product of their time. I have a great respect for what came before, but I think if you force someone to play, watch, or read something, they are not approaching it with an open mind and will likely not appreciate it the way you want them to. You can recommend, but shoving it down their throat isn't good. Sorta like a game review -- it's advice, but not imperative commands.
I have always been a non-fiction guy, in writing and reading; I have friends who have made the jump from critic to storyteller (Jay Turner & Gary Whitta to drop a few names), but I am not one of them, nor do I ever expect to be. It's not that I wouldn't like to try, or that I don't have ideas that I think might make interesting games, but I don't believe there is a direct connection between those two fields and it's never been a goal -- I love being a game critic. A lot of people do think, after playing a game or reviewing a game, that they can make a better one -- to which I say, that's probably the healthiest thing you can undertake. Give it a try and get an appreciation for how difficult it really is. Your subsequent reviews will turn out far more informed.
I applied for a job at GameSpot once, but have never worked there -- I think you mean GamePro, where I wrote as "Dan Elektro" from 1997 to 2003. Leaving GamePro was very difficult and emotional. I really thought I would be there for my entire career, and my wife Kat (Miss Spell) and I really enjoyed the luxury of working together. We have a great shorthand that makes us very efficient together. A change of management valued me but not her, and we got an offer from Future to go as a team to work on a new project. I wanted to stay at GP, and made that clear, but I wanted to keep this creative partnership going more, so we took the other offer. The project we worked on only lasted a year so I transitioned to GamesRadar, where I was US employee #2. It was a long and sometimes torturous process, but I think it's that way with any startup project. The daily grind and chaos got to me and started affecting my health, so when an opening appeared at OXM, I almost begged for it -- and it turned out to be a great fit. I am still super proud of those three years and the features the magazine ran on my watch. However, it became clear that with a staff full of superstars with seniority, there was little room to advance -- and in over a decade, I had never been Editor-in-Chief of anything. The WoW mag gave me that opportunity and I was one of the bigger fans of the game in the office, so it was a natural fit. I do not consider myself a flighty person -- I like to pick a project and stick with it long-term -- so the shorter sections of my resume are a little embarassing. But in all cases, I was chasing job satisfaction. I know what I'm good at, and I want to play to my strengths. Writing makes me happy, and I always wanted to write for outlets where my voice and skills were a good fit.
Sure, they try. I mean, it's in their best interest to be polite and accommodating and put you in a good frame of mine about their product. The trick is not to let it actually affect your decision. Giving me access to more information -- developer chats, deeper Q&As with the team -- often makes me like a game more than trinkets or trips because I understand more of what's going on behind the scenes for real. I understand the team's goals better and what they are trying to do with the game. T-shirts are nice and all, but if you want to impress me, give me knowledge and understanding instead. :) There is a line that can be crossed, and it's up to every writer not to cross it. For 15 years, I had no trouble seeing and respecting that line.
Keep in mind that this is entirely subjective, and I can only comment on the games I've played or reviewed (well, yes, I have played all the games I've reviewed, you know what I mean...) I think the worst games I ever reviewed were Combat Cars for the Genesis (a top down racer with no mini-map) and Chicago Enforcer for Xbox, which was a very very bad 1930s FPS. I was just amazed that it made it through certification. Best? I have too much nostalgia for the old days of arcades to say anything other than Robotron 2084 or Tempest, but they still kick my ass today. Any game that remains challenging 30 years after it was created deserves the title "classic."
Not just try -- it's required. It's irresponsible to review a game where co-op or multiplayer is an important element and not properly play those modes. For pre-release games that are not yet publicly available, the PR team will arrange for devs or the QA staff to play in those modes with you. If the game is publicly available, go online. Not having friends is not acceptable -- play with strangers, since that's what other people in your situation would have to do. There is no excuse and no reason why a reviewer could not play a game like L4D in single-player mode as well as co-op mode. Playing a game to its fullest before writing about it is the job. Accept the responsibility or don't accept the assignment.
Sure -- but it might not be in those obvious A/V categories. At some point we're going to hit a visual threshhold where it just doesn't matter if games look better, or the improvements made will be less obvious. So the innovation has to come from things like gameplay and concept and big ideas, I think. We know spaceships can blast aliens; we know dudes can beat each other up; we know one hero can save the world. But when you consider how many interesting topics books and movies cover that games currently do not, you realize there's tons of room for growth. The world of gaming is not limited to simulations of both real and imagined worlds and activities; I think we're going to see "better" come from "more thought-provoking" in the long haul. And those thought-provoking games can absolutely come with photorealistic graphics, surround sound, and tangible 3D worlds -- but those can't be the focus in and of themselves.
Not much nostalgia is good for reviews; remember, you have to review the game in front of you, not the game that came before it. I expect the reviewer to be familiar with the series so they can accurately assess how it's different from previous chapters, since you can assume the audience will have experience with the series too. My editor was concerned that I would not be objective enough with my review of the Xbox 360 Ghostbusters game, since I am a huge fan and nostalgia weighs heavily on me. I was able to split my duties as a reviewer with my love as a fanboy, and it turned out that my review score was not only on par with other people who reviewed it, but the developer later told me that 8 out of 10 "sounded about right." As a fan, I have to say, 9.5 -- but that's fueled by nostalgia and feeling appreciated for my emotional investment in the franchise. Ultimately, you have to respect the past, but you're reviewing the present. And we all know that the past looks better over time, and you only really remember the high points. Play the game in front of you expecting it to be the game in front of you; the experience you had before is a different experience.
I do a lot of my gaming on 360 and iPad because I worked at OXM and it is most available in my free time, respectively, but I could just as easily be doing it on PS3 and 3DS. My playing a lot of 360 should not influence you in the slightest. I am platform agnostic and I have active disdain for the so-called console wars. As if we don't have enough divisive issues in the world, some brainiac decided that one machine dedicated to playing games had to be empirically better than another. Downright ridiculous. Play what makes you happy on whatever you can put your hands on. The important thing is that we're playing games and enjoying it.
You can only review the experience you have. People seem to think that if a review does not reflect their personal experience, then the review is wrong. Well, no; their experience was different from yours, but both experiences are valid. If something like DRM/always-on connections affect your experience of the game, then they should factor in. But if they did not affect the reviewer's experience at the time of review, it's hardly fair to expect them to say "But maybe the game isn't actually as good as it was when I played it for myself." Whose opinion are they writing anyway? Their own, based on their own experience. But it is absolutely responsible to note "this game has significant DRM" or "this game will require an always-on connection" as part of the review's information, as those will factor into the game experience. As you note, a game is more than just its content, and every game is more than your personal money investment, it's a time investment. Reviews can't just factor in "is it worth your money" -- they also have to ask "is it worth your time?" Whether DRM or technical factors weigh into the score or not depends on whether that reviewer felt it was a detriment or a boon or neither. At the very least, the consumer should be given that information so they can factor it into their own decision. But they cannot control the game once it is released any more than you or I can. If a game has significant issues after the review is posted, add an update to the review, or post a news story about the current events. You don't have to ignore reality, but I also don't feel the reviewer's experience should be rendered invalid because of temporary technical issues. Problems will arise and problems will be solved. I know of very few top-tier games with online components that don't experience issues during launch week and don't have adjustments on the back end to deal with those issues. Based on the last several years, I now accept that games will evolve after release, and that the release week may well be problematic. It's reality.
I'm not familiar with today's educational games. I have never reviewed them, and I do not have kids, as I mentioned above. :)
Too late to ask this one. They already are.
You're right, I did cover it in the book -- but I think games journalism simply evolved to incorporate more personal asides. NGJ can be very personal and powerful...but I think it's easier to make it personal and self-indulgent. To say something personal that also offers insight and a larger commentary is not as easy as it looks. I recommend getting a handle on OGJ first. Once you know the rules and why they are there, then you are better equipped to break those rules in a meaningful and evolutionary way.
Yes, and burnout is a very real side effect of the job. I've worked with people who were so determined to cling to their dream job that they were unaware that they were grumpy and bitter about something they used to love -- when play becomes work, it's very easy to only focus on the negative sides of the work, like deadlines or office politics or technical issues. That can and does spill over into reviews if you let it -- and that can alienate readers and ruin your reputation. I took very few vacations at GamePro because I loved the work and there was always so much to do in a short amount of time; when I left I had banked a month of vacation time. I wish I'd taken it, because I went through a serious crisis of conscience while I was there, thinking "Is this it? Am I burned out? Can I still do this job and have my writing be worth something to other people?" And it did take a few weeks to realign my thinking; I was critical enough about my own performance and my own writing that I was able to see when I started to go off the track and self-correct. But yes, absolutely -- a combination of crushing deadlines and the inherent sameness of games within a genre (for instance, all FPSes are different, but they do all speak the same language) can make you bitter and jaded and very much in need of a vacation if not a career change. It's like eating candy all day every day -- sounds great when you're a kid, and when you get to try it, you love it at first...and then you realize it's just not healthy and you feel worse if it goes on for too long. You need to take it on moderation so you continue to love it.
Sometimes, but not usually. They have actual consultants for that, and many of those consultants are ex-media. They write detailed reports on games in development and assess strengths and weaknesses. Most of the time they even give a score range, like "if this were coming out in its current state with its current scope and plans, I would expect it to receive 65-75 on a scale of 100." But if you are an active member of the media, it's sort of...not done. A few times I've seen developers fish for feedback during demos but I have always expected demos to be largely one-way info presentations, and not a focus group -- though I'm sure they are reading body language and conversational reactions as much as possible. PS -- Must I defeat you to stand a chance?
Sure -- nobody really likes to be told "you're wrong." I wrote unpopular negative reviews of games other people liked, so I became a target -- and that comes with the job. It's something you have to accept; you cannot be a critic without being willing to be criticized yourself. The problem really becomes when the people telling you that you're wrong have less experience with the topic in question. If I've spent a week digging into a game before coming to a conclusion about it, and the person telling me "that's not right at all" hasn't played it yet...that's particularly annoying. That's just someone wanting the game to be awesome, or someone who has invested emotion into a game they haven't played, so they don't want to look bad to their friends, or they are insecure in some way about their support of the game up to that point. If my negative review threatens your own opinion, I think you're reading it wrong. But if my negative review gives you more information as you make up your own mind, then we're getting somewhere, even if we disagree and you call me names.
Depends on the level of the hype. This is really an unanswerable question, as we have seen some preview footage and cool plans, but I have no experience with the console itself. Nobody can say if it will live up to the hype without significant personal experience. I plan to get one, but I have no idea if it's going to live up to anything yet. Top-tier media often get retail units day of release, or slightly before; I lined up and bought my PS2, GameCube, PSP and Xbox 360 at midnight. This time around, I just want to preorder.
No console is "necessary" to begin with. We're talking about a form of optional entertainment. And those forms vary wildly; many people simply like having a dedicated machine for their hobby. Could the future remove the hardware and just bundle it all into the display? Sure. I think it's interesting that Steam is working with ways to bring its content to TVs instead of computer monitors, and even then, they are investigating a dedicated piece of hardware, and not just delivering it through a web-enabled TV or an existing device. So...sure, the future is unwritten, and things always get smaller and wind up being combined with other things. But if the market likes the idea of a dedicated console, I'm not going to tell them it's unnecessary.
Yes, absolutely. When an editor looks for new talent, they almost always search for existing writing by that person before the interview -- in fact, sometimes that can make the difference between whether the person even gets an interview at all. Your blog will represent your personal approach to writing, and that is extremely valuable to a hiring editor -- but it also means it has to be extremely professional and polished if you want it to reflect kindly on you. Anything you write online, from a personal blog to a Facebook post to a comment in a forum, suddenly represents you as a professional writer. I tell a story about this in the book, about a writer who was blogging about applying for a job, and his arrogance in his blog posts cost him the interview. So you do have to be careful. But by all means, get some experience simply writing and publishing, and thinking about how your words are received by the public at large. That's very good experience, and it will look better than someone who has no writing samples to show at all. It shows you took initiative, even if you haven't had a big opportunity yet.
Interstate 76, a car combat PC game from Activision. Car combat is my favorite genre, and now that Twisted Metal has returned for PS3, that's my next target. It was a very rich universe with an alternate-history story as its backdrop, plus lots of customizable muscle cars. It's available again at GOG.com if you want to play it.
Space Giraffe for XBLA was one. I gave it a 2. Others gave it a 10. There were very few scores in the middle. We all perceive games differently -- design elements make sense to one person and baffle another. Things that seem incredibly hard to me might be rewardingly complex to you. Person A doesn't feel a game is good unless it has 40 hours of gameplay; Person B just wants to enjoy a six-hour story and move on to another story. This is why I always encourage reading a lot of reviews if you put stock in any one of them. To me, the bigger danger is not polarized opinions but homogenized ones -- when I see people start to attack a negative review because "everybody else liked it" or say a positive review must be the result of corruption because "the MetaCritic average is three points lower than your score," that's some dangerous groupthink. This ties back into the reality that people use reviews to prove themselves "right" rather than taking them for the individual critical analyses they actually were intended to be.
You should do whatever you feel will make you happy. Sorry, this is not a question about videogame reviewing, and I do not have any special insight into how you should structure your collection.
The mechanics for reviewing a mobile game are no different than reviewing a console or PC game. You're still trying to achieve the same core goal: Tell people what the game is and whether or not it's worth their money. The free-to-play model sort of makes reviews less crucial, but don't forget that even those require an investment -- one of time. And sometimes one of data storage, too. Is it worth bumping another app from your device for this new one? That's something a reviewer can help someone determine. So don't treat them any differently from anything else, because the reader is still looking for sage advice.
A lot of times, you can take your own screens on mobile devices with a lot more ease. This is a huge benefit, because you want the screens to complement your text perfectly whenever possible. If you're calling a game out for something particularly good or bad, it's easy to show that exact moment if you are just a hotkey combo away from snapping the perfect frame.
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