by Michael Berlyn

So, you've got the puzzles and the plot worked out, and you've even got your beta testers lined up. You're eager to release your latest masterpiece, something over which you've devoted most of your free time for the past few months. Or years. You play the game through one last time, just to make sure everything works. On completing the game with a perfect score, you figure it's ready for outside eyes. But you're probably wrong.

It takes only a few hours for you to hear back from one of your testers that holding the yellow polka-dot grunkle (a small domestic pet found on Altair 4) up to the squinza's handle (a feeding mechanism for the grunkle) while standing on your tiptoes seems a bit... obscure. He suggests an alternate solution which you think about for a minute or so before deciding to do as he says. You fervently code the new solution. Anything to make the testers happy. You send it out again, and this time hear nothing negative about the puzzle.

This process goes on until the beta testers bless the product or just plain give up. Oddly, you hear nothing about what a great game it is, or how enthralled they were while testing it. "Oh well, it's probably not a beta tester's role to tell me how good the story is. They're just there to find bugs," you think.

You announce the release of your product and wait a few days for the flood of e-mails to fill your in-box. But few messages appear.

So, what went wrong? Why weren't you nominated for the Implementor's Hall of Fame? Why aren't people singing your praises and calling you for phone interviews? Why aren't you dating Uma Thurman?

Well, maybe -- just maybe -- it was your writing.

The Room Description

Room descriptions are the anchor on which your game rests. It is the primary method you have at your disposal for creating a reality for the player, for creating mood and tension.

I like to think of my job as a writer as "re-creating reality in the readers' minds." This re-creating reality is really a subset of communication. What I want to do is trigger an experience in the reader by layering detail and by reminding them of their own experiences. By having a series of details about the environment, I can put the reader there.

Here's how it works:

Let's make up a simple example. I'll start with a central room and put a room off in all four major compass points. Here's what a skeletal description of the room would look like:

You're in a room. There are exits off to the north, 
south, east and west.

Thrilling, isn't it? While it does the job of providing the player with information, providing information just isn't enough. We're writing interactive fiction, and part of what makes it fiction is that the reader experiences what we all write.

Let's start with the room itself. Is it big? Small? Long and narrow? High ceilings? Does it matter? Simply put, yes. In writing a game, it matters a lot.

You're in a large room. A hallway starts up to the 
north, fading into the darkness. You can see doorways 
heading off to the east and west. A swinging door leads 
off to the south.

So, I've started to layer in a few more descriptive phrases. Instead of being in a room, we're in a large room. This is better, but not good enough. I also did a little work on the exits, trying to say something interesting about a few of them, enticing the player to pursue some exits. For example, to say "a swinging door leads off to the south" may elicit a curiosity about what's behind the door. In the same way, a hallway which is "fading into the darkness" is a little ominous, telling the player to use some caution.

But what about the room?

You're in a large, central room. The carpeting feels soft beneath your feet. The walls are adorned with portraits of the Ushers, from great-great grandfather through baby Usher, grotesque in his own right. Torches flicker on the walls, making the portraits seem to move on their own. A hallway starts up to the north, fading into the darkness. You can see doorways heading off to the east and west. A swinging door leads off to the south.

See how much difference some description makes?

The Room Checklist

Here's an approach -- more of a recipe, actually -- to help you get started writing those great room descriptions. Answer each of these questions about each of the rooms you create and you'll be well on your way to writing better.

Size/Scope

How big is the room? In Zork: The Undiscovered Underground, I thought it would be amusing to have a broom closet which was huge enough to support weather patterns. So, think about the size of the room. To say it's a living room isn't enough. Is it small? Cramped and tiny, just big enough for the furniture? Or is it immense, the size of a small football field?

Ceilings

Is there a high ceiling? Is it vaulted? Or low enough to make the room feel cramped? Are there skylights? Can you see the cobwebs in the corners? Are there footprints up there? What color are the walls?

Floors/Ground

Is the flooring marble, wood, carpeted? Can you hear your footsteps echo? Squish? Is the floor tiled -- and if so, is the tile a black-and-white checkerboard pattern or terra cotta? Is the ground a dirt path? If so, are there plants along the side of the path? Does the path go straight or does it meander? If you're on a lawn, is it neatly mowed or wild? Are there flowers or bushes?

Walls

Are the walls wallpapered? Painted? Natural stone? Do they emit light? Reflect light? What's on the walls -- paintings? A mural? Windows?

Lighting

Is it dark and gloomy or bright and sunny? Are there shadows in the corner? Is the place lit by natural lighting? Does the sun stream through the windows? If so, can you see dust particles dancing in the rays? Or is the sun glinting off the glass coffee table?

Mood

Well, what's the room's atmosphere like? Gloomy? Somber? Happy? Whoever lives or lived here would likely have the room reflect their general mood. A depressed person is not likely to have yellow-and-red throw pillows.

Senses

It's always a good idea to work as many of the senses into the room description as is reasonable. For example, what does the room smell like? Musty? Sweet from incense? Can you smell stale cigarette smoke? What can you hear? The dripping of a faucet? The rippling of water that flows by?

Practice

The easiest way to approach all of this is to take a pen or pencil in hand, grab a notebook, and walk around the place where you live, describing everything you see. You don't have to write a lot of detail, but some detail does help make the scene pop for readers.

If you live in a one-room efficiency, you're kind of stuck -- so take your notebook and pen with you when you leave and describe every room you enter. It makes a difference if the windows reach nearly the floor and stop a few feet from the ceiling. It makes a difference if the carpet is deep pile or indoor-outdoor Astroturf.

I'd like to share with you a room description from a work-in-progress, Chameleon. Here's a living room description from an apartment in the opening of the game:

South half of Living Room
This part of the living room has a bay window with a 
southern exposure. There are no window shades or 
curtains, so the direct sunlight is devastating to the 
untended plants he had placed here. Remmy's dead potted 
plants line the seat beneath the window. The tendrils 
and baby shoots of a spider plant are not quite dead, 
and sway slightly over the heating vent. To the right of 
the window is an old, beat up, rectangular dining table 
Remmy has shoved against the wall to use as a writing 
desk. It is strewn with papers. A metal folding chair 
sits at the desk. The rest of the living room consists 
of a remnant piece of carpet used as an area rug and 
small and large throw pillows for sitting. A small couch 
sits beneath the bay window beside an old, overstuffed 
easy chair.

There are things that you notice when you enter a room, whether you note them consciously or not. If it's a mess, you'll think differently about the person who lives there than if it's neat.

Rooms make a statement. Have yours make one, too.

Michael Berlyn has been in the computer industry since the square wheel was in common use. Known as "dino" to his aged friends and "Foobler" on the ifMud, he is hard at work on a new piece of puzzleless IF called "Chameleon." He hopes to be finished with it some time this century, but makes no promises. His publishing company, Cascade Mountain Publishing, publishes and sells books, eBooks and interactive fiction.

---

Go to the next page in this issue
Flip back to the previous page
Go to the XYZZYnews home page