Areas of Improvement

I enjoyed the book quite a bit, but as always, there are a few areas that could use improvement. First, as a minor quibble, the cards occasionally reference lists buried deep within the book. This makes them slightly harder to use than if each card was completely self-contained.

Secondly, the book has only a few pages on the business aspects of game design and it focuses almost exclusively on the dynamics of a typical retail title. While much of the content in the book will stand the test of time, I suspect this section will age poorly.

Business models are changing rapidly with many upcoming games focusing on downloadable content, subscription models, advertising, microtransactions, free-to-play and more.

More importantly, much of modern game design is now intricately intertwined with the process of making money. If games have any ability to influence and change behavior, and I very strongly believe that they do, those powers will be used first and foremost, not for art, but for capitalist gain.

Any book that seeks to be a general education for game designers might want to make note of how the extraction of money from players has a major influence on how they structure their design.

My last concern is less a problem with this book and more an observation about the maturing state of game design. When books on game design first started appearing (such as Chris Crawford's seminal The Art of Computer Game Design), they were the works of wild-eyed explorers fearlessly blazing new paths through the untamed wilderness of a vibrant new field.

In contrast, Schell has written a solid survey of the craft of game design as it has evolved over decades of practice. You'll find the required mention of flow, a discussion of transmedia, and even a nod to the innovator's dilemma.

There is a great smattering of proven techniques, some lovely jaunts into the major factors that influence your design, but no bright new paradigm that will illuminate how you see games.

The closest the book gets to a grand vision for game design is the importance of the "Loop", the iterative process of building, playing, analyzing and improving that all great games undergo. This is fundamental stuff, but in general the book's value remains in the wisdom of a hundred details as opposed to a big unifying idea or philosophy.

We are left with a craftsman's book, not a book of unifying artistic vision. Such a thing is still quite valuable. The world always seems to have more craftsmen looking for their next conceptual hammer than it has artists needing a vision.

Should You Buy This Book?

Of course you should pick up a copy. It is a quick read and the concepts are solid. If you are a student, it is perhaps the most comprehensive and crisply written intro to the key elements of game design that I have read. If you are a practicing designer, you may want to also grab the companion cards as well.

Now that game design has a hundred facets, there is no way anyone can keep all the various mental tools in their head all at once. The act of flipping casually through a few cards is a wonderfully tactile method of jolting one's creativity.

In my library of game design books, I see The Art of Game Design as the common designer's pragmatic companion to a theoretical tome like Salen and Zimmerman's Rules of Play: Game Design Fundamentals.

Both uncover the vast hidden anthill that is game design. Both describe dozens of ideas and tools a game designer should master. Both seek to provide a roof for all perspectives, no matter how divergent. Of the two, The Art of Game Design is considerably more approachable, with the trade off of being a lighter, and slightly less thought provoking read.

After putting the book down, I was struck by the unexpected feeling of jealousy mixed with delight. What a wonderful thing it is that bright-eyed young designers are able to live in a time when such hard fought wisdom is readily available in such a clear and digestible form.