Kyl Von Kull For what it's worth, when I showed the article to Colin (who I think then showed it to Gavin), they said they could enter the "fugue state" with OEI. So maybe it was just me.
Fairfax Fair enough. Maybe from a high-level dialogue structuring standpoint, it's useful. I still think that's not really practicing the art -- it's more like the way in which playing soccer might prepare you for playing American football, since they both involve running, working as a team, understanding rules, etc.
ScrotumBroth Ahh, I misread their game profiles, forgetting that "The Wild Hunt" was not an expansion, but rather a subtitle. RE: expansions, I agree that it helps to have the engine in place; also, the stakes are much lower so risk-taking is permitted/encouraged. The main game also exhausts the most cliche options, which encourages trying something new.
> Are you saying that Numanuma writers did not have the freedom to add personal touches to their writing, and thus make it more real and organic?
I'm saying that I'm not sure that most or all of the TTON writing sprang from powerful personal experiences. A fair amount of it I think was more conceptual -- thinking from a high level and working down, rather than welling up from an emotional depth.
> Or is it simply tied to a lack of time (which again is hard to fathom considering the time game had)?
TTON definitely could've used more time. But I'm not really interested in analyzing the particular issues of a particular game to which I have personal loyalty.
> In either case, CDPR had the money in a country with low wages, but is that then the magic recipe for the quest design and writing team's major success, considering they also had the same hurdle of inexperience and lack of guidelines?
It makes the job more prestigious/desirable. The woman who wrote the quest had a Master's degree in Polish literature from Jagiellonian University.
Darth Roxor can fact check me, but from Wikipedia I understand that to be Poland's foremost university, one that's been around for ~650 years. The man who worked on the quest had two masters, one from the University of Warsaw and the other from the Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński University; he also had extensive prior experience on games before working on W3. By contrast, the second most prolific writer on TTON was Gavin, who's a great writer and a wonderful person, but his background is quite different -- he came to game writing after a junior degree from Golden West College, a community college that's been around for about 50 years, and a stint writing articles for Cracked.com. We can debate the importance of education, etc., etc., but it tells you something of the relative recruiting power of CDPR and inXile. By no means does recruiting power equate to good RPG writing -- after all, late-stage Bioware had more recruiting power than early-stage Troika, I would think -- but, as a logical matter, it ought to help.
More generally, though, I guess I would say that I think many RPGs have very good individual quests alongside many bad quests, which underscores (rather than undermines) the "we have no idea what we're doing" point, I'd think.
Lyric Suite "The things we love most are the things we experienced when we were young." Yeah, I wrote something similar in that interview I just did with
CSH Picone:
Because the stature of childhood experiences grows proportionally with the
body itself, the Nintendo games of the 1980s have outsized importance in my
memory: the exploration and sheer adventure of Zelda; the huge, alien organisms of
Contra; the grinding of Dragon Warrior, which my older brother and I would trade off
on while the other was at soccer practice; King Slender’s backbreaker in Pro
Wrestling and Bo Jackson’s speed in Tecmo Bowl; the brawls in Ice Hockey and the
one time I managed to score by flinging my skinny skater through the goalie in a kind
of kamikaze attack; the melodrama of Ninja Gaiden; the music and sense of
progression in Mega Man 2; the insuperable toughness of Double Dragon. Almost
all of these recollections have a social dimension to them because these were
games I played with neighbours and friends (we each owned only a small handful of
games) and even when we played them solo, we’d still share tips and tricks at school
and in the alley behind our houses. These games may have had no more merit than
did the Frosted Flakes jingle or the narrative arc of Challenge of the Go-Bots, but
they are snug in my memory, ensconced in, and enhanced by, warm nostalgia.
So I get what you're saying. I still think you're pushing too hard on the notion, though. If art is that which is timeless, our ability in the moment to distinguish art from ~art is limited or even non-existent. Among those same childhood memories is a debate between me and my brother over whether Garbage Pail Kids or MUSCLE Men would stand the test of time. I bet on the latter (rubber outlasting paper!). In some ways, that is the human condition: fighting over which trash is sublime. But that doesn't mean
everything is trash simply because it evokes childlike joy.