Back in October I posted a review of "A Theory of Fun for Games Design" by Raph Koster. The book explained how people get pleasurable experiences from the release of endorphins, formed when learning takes place or when learned links are strengthened.
This has led me to consider that the emotional power of nostalgia may come from an endorphin release, with a greater surge when buried memories (i.e. chunks and collections which were strongly formed, but nowadays are infrequently accessed) are accessed. There seems to be a stronger reaction when people see something they had totally forgotten about, as opposed to the relatively familiar.
With this in mind I feel it's a good idea to delve lightly into the psychology associated with nostalgia, before moving to a more phenomenological approach.
They carried out three groups of studies, each focused on a different aspect of the effect of nostalgia. The authors state that "These findings demarcate key landmarks in the hitherto uncharted research domain of nostalgia" -- a pretty hefty claim!
They begin by distinguishing nostalgia from homesickness, which was the original meaning of the word. In line with what I witnessed in a Nigel Slater documentary, nostalgia can trigger positive or negative affect (with some theorists suggesting that it is always a mixed reaction). Interestingly, the results did not appear to differ by gender.
(The majority of the paper addresses the negative effects, and how they fit with loneliness. This is of no interest to me in my particular research, so I have omitted this from the review.)
One study focused on the triggers for nostalgic thinking. These were categorised (by experts in qualitative analysis) as follows:
Of specific interest to me in my research is the statistic that 31% of the triggers are controllable (sensory, tanglible & similar events) within the context of a game.
24% of the triggers rely upon social interaction, which suggests that we join in the experience when we hear other people reminisce about shared nostalgic memories. This suggests that team play would enhance the likelihood of an in-game nostalgia trigger generating a stronger response from the individual players.
These statistics also highlight that there are many triggers which are external to a video game, and cannot be easily controlled by a game designer. Therefore I need to focus on the sensory, tangible & 'similar event' aspect, with a mind to team play.
Regular readers will recall that I intended to build a simple dodge-the-blocks game as a testing ground to measure the impact of product-placement style nostalgia cues.
Looks pretty simple, huh?
WRONG. This has certainly been a very educational experience. What started as a very simple game has turned into a monster that needs quite a bit of taming.
There's nothing particularly difficult about the game, or implementing it. It's similar to the training games I've implemented many times when teaching students to use programming tools like Java or Microsoft's .Net framework. (I often use Pong or Space Invaders clones, because they are familiar, easily constructed as a progressive series of steps, and are good ways to illustrate certain algorithms or programming paradigms.)
However, with my mind now expanded to appreciate some of the wider considerations of game mechanics, I found myself unexpectedly bombarded by decisions which threaten to undermine the whole project! That's not bad for a small, disposable project which should have taken only a few hours to complete.
Problem #1: Too many options
When you think you know how a game works, it's all too easy to try to jump in to building the game straight away. Bad move. As François Laramée points out, detailed design plans are a necessity.
Ignoring these wise words (at my peril) I booted-up the computer ... and then realised that I'd need to write up my project -- and some formal planning would definitely look good. I started jotting some ideas down on a piece of paper...
As you can see (unless you have bionic eyes you may need to enlarge the image) I started realising that there was more than one way to do each thing. Examples:
Should the game be a timed competition? If so, how does the challenge increase to ensure a good flow? I'd envisaged making the blocks move faster. However, this created the possibility of timed rounds, each getting progressively harder (e.g. more blocks, faster speed, or smaller arena).
Should the enemy blocks travel through each other? Or bounce off each other? There's a lot to be said for the bouncing option, because it makes the prediction of movement more complex, and potentially more satisfying for a skilled player. This could be integrated with the timed round idea.
How to control the player? This was a nightmare. Traditionally, this game uses a mouse for analogue, absolute positioning (i.e. moving like a mouse cursor). However, what about keyboard control? This could use constant velocity (like Pac-Man), subtle acceleration/deceleration (like Defender) or thruster-style control (like Lunar Lander). This technology choice changes the whole gameplay.
Where to show the timer? (Or whether to show it at all?) If the player is checking the timer, like the driver checking a speedometer in a car, they are taking their eyes off the game. This is the norm for this game, but what about putting the timer on the player's block? This would allow greater focus, leading to potentially greater satisfaction. However, it might reduce the challenge.
How to conclude the game? Do you display a simple "You lasted X seconds" or do you do a coin-drop tease to encourage them to play again, metaphorically slapping the player around the face with the gauntlet of the current high score?
And that's just the start. Course tutor Josh Taylor noticed that horizontal-movement-only enemy blocks will push the game into Frogger territory.
In this case, with the original purpose in mind, I have decided to ignore the possibilities of making the game mechanics more interesting, and lock the game down as I remember it from playing it many years ago. But that's quite a wrench, as the designer in me wants to make it better!
Problem #2: Change of mechanic
The idea was to create three variants of the game:
Plain, with coloured blocks.
Same game, but with old sweet wrappers as an aesthetic.
Same game, but with a visual theme and back-story based on the movie Dodgeball.
In the back of my mind, I knew that I'd need to use dodgeballs as the enemy for the third version. However, balls are not rectangular. I could enclose them in a solid rectangle, but this detracts significantly from the mechanic of the dodgeball game itself.
So, should I use circles for the enemy on this version? Should they bounce off each other? Does this change harm the subjective experience comparison, or enhance it (by reinforcing the theme)?
This presents a dilemma. By reinforcing the theme I would have to change the underlying game mechanic. And that would definitely change the subjective experience, rendering my experiment invalid.
I've decided that the implementation of the theme is vital to the third option, which has forced me to step back and reconsider building a different game -- working backwards:
Dodgeball-themed game, with bouncing (circular) balls -- all the same size (another option!) -- and circular player object (featuring picture of Vince Vaughn), set in a rectangular arena.
Same game but without the backstory, using rounded cutouts of sweet wrappers, with enough of the logo (or visual identity) on display to trigger a nostalgic reaction. Circular player object.
Same game, but pared down to simple coloured circles.
Conclusion
I've been astonished how much my original, simple game has had to change just because of the temptation to improve it. This echoes the warning issued by John Dennis about overambitious projects.
Hopefully, now, I can get on with some research into the effect of visual nostalgic cues!
This book, edited by François Laramée, compiles insight from around 25 different game designers to explore the practice of game design.
It takes a very pragmatic approach, starting with the industrial necessity of producing game design documents (GDD), making a number of important points:
Detailed design plans are a necessity in any constructive process; this even even more true for experienced designers, who recognise the importance of specific details.
Start by producing a treatment. If you can't outline the idea then there's no point in trying to add detail. It needs to catch the reader's attention quickly.
Lock the idea down. Major changes are OK in early stages, but not in later ones. Try not to run before you walk: "[...] if the new feature would merely be 'cool' [...] then it should be saved for the sequel -- when the team will be better able to analyze its impact."
John Dennis (designer on mid-period Worms games) states that the two most important assets to a designer are modularity and structure. This is definitely very sound advice.
He also talks about the pitfalls that occur at design stage. Amongst these is overambitious projects. I've experienced this a number of times personally, when starting what appears to be a simple project ... only to find that the range of options available starts to expand; if I try to use the more interesting ones, I end up with a project ten times the size of the original plan. Dennis suggests that the solution is to identify the risk associated with trying to implement a feature (e.g. cost in man-hours, or dilution of theme) -- this quickly brings things into perspective.
Sim Dietrich continues this theme, listing a number of useful warning signs of "faulty game design":
New players can't play the game without assistance.
Lack of skill makes the game "not much fun".
Too much time spent loading & saving game state. This is an interesting one: I've witnessed my own family suffer constant frustration at the large gaps between save points, yet annoyance at the time it takes to carry out the save action. It's apparent that the longer gaps have been chosen to reduce breaks caused by saving state, but the compromise is not a success either.
Unpopular characters. If players avoid certain characters or options then there is clearly a problem with them. This can be balanced by giving these characters special powers as an incentive; other times the character needs to be removed. As a personal observation, I believe that this can sometimes be down to a love-it-or-loathe-it reaction (e.g. Rainbow Road racetrack in Mario Kart) -- in such cases, it's worth keeping the 'loathe' to allow the 'love'.
Players frequently reconfigure controls. Time to change the default controls!
What is interesting about this book is that it takes a more targeted approach to designing specific types of game, rather than the abstract generalistion favoured by Jesse Schell. This also makes it a very tough book to read from cover-to-cover. With this in mind, I have selected only key areas of interest in this post; I may return to this book at some point in the future to examine other aspects raised by its authors.
Some time ago I had been looking at the central tenets of game design, using Jesse Schell's Art of Game Design as a primary guide. I round this off by comparing Schell's views with those of other designers, starting with Richard Rouse.
Game Design: Theory & Practice
This book approaches design by examining existing games. I don't know whether he intended the book to come across this way, but it feels like Rouse has used the book to take a trip down 'memory lane', name-checking all his favourite games.
Interestingly, this approach contrasts with the view stated by Neil Thompson (speaking at BAF Game 2012), who suggested that too much retrospection can lead to stagnation in design; that designers need to expose themselves to fresh, new ideas from other disciplines.
Lots of classic arcade games are reviewed, with interviews with the designers. This is certainly insightful but also frequently irrelevant -- for example, in the interview with Steve Meretzky, there is a full page of biographical ramblings relating to the decision to develop Zork Zero, with heavy name-dropping of former colleagues from over 20 years ago.
Rouse states that players want several things:
A challenge
To socialise or a dynamic solitary experience
Bragging rights (i.e. something to show off about)
An emotional experience
To explore
To fantasise
To interact
but that they expect:
Consistency of design
To understand their boundaries
Reasonable logic and a fair chance
To have clear directions and not get stuck
An incremental experience, without boring repetition
Immersion; to do rather than watch.
These seem to echo a number of Schell's sentiments, although not filtered to accomodate differences in gender or genre.
Rouse then splits the game into elements: gameplay (i.e. mechanics), technology & narrative. He states that "Experienced game designers already understand the limitations placed on the creation of games by the technology, gameplay and story."
This reveals two startling things about Rouse's approach to game design:
Firstly, Rouse does NOT include aesthetics in his list of major elements -- with only 3 pages within the 700-page book it's clear that Rouse considers it a minor factor in level design!
Secondly, he views mechanics, technology & narrative as "limitations". Schell takes a more positive approach, describing them as "essential", asking "Are four elements in harmony, reinforcing each other, and working together toward a common theme?" There is a clear split in tone between the authors.
A quick look at Rouse's game design CV suggests that most of his commercial work in the last 10 years has focused being a lead designer, game story writer & occasional programmer. He obviously knows what he's talking about, but I suspect that he may have a viewpoint biased against visual creative arts.
I find myself quite disappointed at Rouse's apparent dismissal of aesthetics.
With nostalgia forming a focus for my work, it has become clear very quickly that aesthetics are a major emotional trigger -- every bit as important as narrative in motivating
the player emotionally, and adding to their subjective experience.
In summary, I find Rouse's approach in this book to be functional rather than inspirational. There are many parts which show the procedures involved in game design, but the whole thing lacks any kind of creative spark. A disappointment.
This week I had the opportunity to attend the BAF Game conference, an offshoot of the Bradford Animation Festival. Organised annually by the National Media Museum & University of Bradford, this event attracts prestigious speakers who talk about their experiences in the industry and provides an insight into state-of-the-art techniques.
I saw five key speakers, and each was fascinating in a different way:
Faceware animation software
Award-winning CGI facial animator David Bennett spoke about the capabilities of Faceware software. This program analyses video footage and produces a semi-automated model of facial expressions, allowing them to be re-created on any 3D CGI model.
With a CV which includes working for Weta Digital on Avatar, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Tintin, Beowulf and Polar Express, David certainly knows what he's talking about! I doubt he'd describe himself as a natural orator, but his video samples certainly spoke for themselves (no pun intended). This jaw-dropping software is already heavily used in both movie-making and game development.
The videos also included footage of a real-time iPad app, which superimposed a mask on a child's face. Interestingly, when responding to questions, David mentioned that the company is also involved with research into using video analysis to train people to spot when somebody is lying.
Working in the games industry
Christine Phelan is a jobbing character animator who currently works for Valve. She talked to the conference about her career path, focusing on a number of points:
Don't be an asshole. The games industry is a small world.
Be prepared to work hard. In the US industry, 80-90 hour weeks are not uncommon in the early stages of your career. Once you're established, you'll be able to balance life & work in a more realistic manner.
Build an industry-focused portfolio. You need to show off the skills which will be relevant to potential employers, and concentrate on your strengths.
Aside from giving an entertaining talk, Christine also emphasised the importance of a "T-shaped" skillset -- the ability to offer specialist skills in on area, but some skills in other areas too.
'Botanicula' game
Next up were Jaromír Plachý & Peter Stehlik of Amanita Design, based in the Czech Republic. They demonstrated their point-and-click game 'Botanicula'.
This game reminded me very much of what Sheri Graner Ray said about women & casual gaming (see previous post on gender in game design). It hits a number of key design points to appeal to a female audience, including the point-and-click interface; experimental, discovery-based adventure; and constructive social interaction. It has also been described in reviews as "charming" and "delightful" -- something which ties in with an earlier post regarding the effect of charm.
While it doesn't appeal to me personally, what I have learned about game design suggests that it has great potential for success with a specific demographic. The game was released six months ago for desktop & laptop platforms and it'll be interesting to see how it sells when it reaches iPad.
Creating cinematics for games
David Brown, Phil Gray are cinematic animation directors for TT Games and were joined by production manager Bill Martin. They spoke at length about their work on cinematic cut-scenes for the Lego Batman and Lego Lord of the Rings video games.
Two points of interest stood out:
The switch from mime to speech. Due to the need to target an international market, they had avoided characters speaking in earlier games. However, because Lego Batman had an original story, they found it difficult to impart complex story detail by mime alone. This encapsulates the eternal battle between gameplay & extrinsic narrative: with movie tie-ins like Lego Star Wars & Lego Harry Potter, players are likely to be familiar with the overarching plot, so less exposition is required. The speech and cut-scenes in Lego Batman were necessary to form an emotional interest in the characters, and to move the story along from scene-to-scene.
Limitations of IP licensing. I asked Bill whether the Intellectual Property owners interfere much with the game development process. He answered that, thankfully, the TT developers have a good track record, so they find they're generally left to get on with their own ideas. However, Phil identified a couple of instances where licensors had blocked specific content (such as referring to "a pint" in the LoTR 'Prancing Pony' Inn scene, presumably to avoid alcohol references in certain territories). More often, ideas would be cut because they didn't fit the tone (such as doing Gandalf's famous "You shall not pass!" scene with him dressed as a school crossing guard, complete with lollipop) rather than because of licence restrictions.
From Chuckie Egg to Mass Effect
Finally, we come to Neil Thompson, who's an art director at Bioware. Neil is a superstar. There's no other way to put it. He overran his timeslot by 50% and the audience were begging for more. We only finished because the University called time.
Having worked his way from the days of the ZX Spectrum (and later the Commodore Amiga) via companies like Psygnosis/Sony and Bizarre Creations, Neil has seen a lot of success and failure in his career. Most importantly, he has learned from both.
Neil teasing the audience with concept art from Dragon Age 3.
His presentation consisted of a trawl through the history of video game graphics during the last 35 years, using examples from his own career. He empahasised the need to take inspiration from a transdisciplinary range, and ended his presentation with a 20-minute(!) slideshow of art that had inspired him, including everything from Dali to Kev Walker (and even included some beaty shots from the recent, excellent Dredd 3D movie).
Conclusion
So, was the event a success? Definitely. It certainly justified the high ticket price and the two-hour knee-busting minibus trip, and I learned a great deal about the passion & creativity needed for this dynamic industry.
I've had a lot of reaction from the pictures of sheet wrappers post a few weeks ago. It has been quite fascinating watching people explode with glee at the sight of old chocolate bar logos. The collected images, originally created by a jigsaw company, create a cascade of excitement & reminiscence.
Last week I was made aware of a TV programme on this theme, featuring celebrity chef & food writer Nigel Slater: Life is Sweets (5th November, BBC4).
The programme is primarily concerned with Slater's personal recollections of childhood
in the 1960s, and the role that sweets played. It also takes a look at the history of confectionary production in the UK, and the origins of many items as Victorian medical supplies.
Association
Slater is clearly affected emotionally by the experience of "being surrounded by all the colours and flavours of so long ago [...] immediately transported back to the days of short trousers and satchels." This potency brings Slater initial feelings of joy, followed by pangs of sadness for events from that period in his life (such as the death of his mother, which he associates with marshmallows).
“Sweets are memorials of our innocence; they remind us of what-it-was-like when we were children.” — Tim Richardson, sweet historian
This suggests an issue which is not addressed within the programme, but is relevant to my research: the strength of emotional reaction relates to an individual's mental associations & recollections. It is very difficult to gauge a person's reaction to a trigger, and its relative effect emotionally, unless you are familiar with that person's emotional history and childhood surroundings. In Slater's case, sweets resonate with troubled times of desperately seeking approval from his father, and youthful rebellion & isolation -- powerful emotions.
Therefore, if attempting to artificially trigger a reaction, we must rely upon common experiences. For example, the excitement of buying "a quarter of..." is likely to be the same for many children of the 1960s or 1970s, regardless of what product they bought or its price -- given that such an event would be relatively exciting compared with day-to-day life. Of course, kids who grew up surrounded by videos & computer games in the 1980s & 1990s are far less likely to have the same response.
Triggers
The retro sweet shop which he visits is interesting in itself, because it is quite evident that it has been designed specifically to reflect the mental picture of "old time" sweet shops, regardless of historical accuracy.
Long shelves of jars of sweets; a mechanical cash register; dim lighting; paper bags; old brand names & logos on display -- all these things evoke the desired response in a customer.
Of course, none of the jars contain 50-year-old confectionary! Despite the fact that many of the branded sweets are related to the originals by name & appearance only, the effect is the same.
This reinforces a belief that I've forged during my nostalgia research: that it's vital to identify with the mental recollection that people have. Truth & accuracy are an irrelevant distraction, unless they can add extra detail which can be exploited.
This can be seen in case of the famous Star Wars toy figure Boba Fett, which was allegedly released with a working projectile rocket back-pack. Many people continue to propagate this urban legend, and will swear blind that they had a friend who had one. Highlighting the fallacy of this will diminish the enjoyment of a group of 40-year-old men recollecting their common experience of playing with Star Wars toys.
You may have noticed that I've posted only once in the last fortnight. Don't worry! Everything is fine: I'm still very busy, but I've been doing a lot of research, reading & thinking but just haven't typed it up yet.
Stuff lined up for the next few blogs:
Nigel Slater's Life is Sweets -- a look at how sweets take us back to our childhood.
Whatever happened to the block game? -- an update on the situation with my experiment with a nostalgia-themed block game, which has turned into a whole can of worms. Very interesting, and a great insight into the complexity of abstract game mechanics.
A scientific look at nostalgia -- investigation into formal research on the nature & effect of nostalgia.
Game studies revisited -- reviews of books by Richard Rouse and François Laramée, concluding my basic grounding in the common tenets of game design.
"You're Winner!" (sic)
Pomagne & Metal Water Jugs -- the primary school Summer Fete & Christmas Grotto, with spin-the-wheel and electric-buzzer-wire game; school dinners, with pink blancmange, semolina and those mysterious dark pink (or gold) brushed stainless steel water jugs. An examination of the relative power of obscure & hard-to-get items, and how they affect the intensity of the nostalgia 'gag reflex'.
Period aesthetics -- how to simulate the 'look' of particular periods of time.
As you can see that's a fair quantity of stuff. I've also got a big Literary & Contextual Review to write during the next three weeks, so I'm going to be a very busy boy...
Blimey! You know you're getting serious when you start bringing the existentialist mumblings of Jean-Paul Sartre into Games Design research...
Anyway, today I was introduced to a concept new to me: Phenomenology. In very simple terms it's concerned with analysing feelings in a structured way, while avoiding the scientific stuff associated with clinical psychology (e.g. neurological endorphin triggers).
I want this on my bookshelf! It will make me CLEVER!
The phenomenological* approach (*note to self: don't try typing that after a few ciders) can be used as a qualitative method in formal research.
This is useful, because I'm examining the effects of nostalgia as a motivational tool in games design -- and player feelings play a fairly big part in that.
Subjective experience
At last! I've struggled for months with the word "experience" (see earlier post).
It's an ambiguous word, and means I can't talk about a player's experience (i.e. experience-gained-from-playing-my-game-now) without it getting confused with a player's experience (i.e. prior-experience-that-helps-them-play-games).
We had a lecture today from fashion designer Fiona Candy where she used the term "subjective experience". Wow! That hits the spot perfectly. I now have a phrase I can use which explains what I, concisely yet accurately. I'm a happy bunny!
As mentioned in my previous post, I'm going to create a clone of the Escape! game as a means to investigate the emotional effect of product placement (with a view to eventually using this in the context of nostalgia-themed games).
For any blog followers who are unfamiliar with the term game engine, I should probably explain what one is!
A computer game needs program code which draws the images on screen, and which calculates things (like how far an object has moved, or whether a missile has hit an alien). This program code is a common feature of many games, so companies tend to lump this code together as an 'engine' which can be re-used again & again.
This approach also splits the majority of the programming work away from the design aspect, meaning that designers can focus on what they do best! Game engines usually include extra facilities to make it easy to organise pictures, sounds, game rules, maps, etc. Hence a game designer will tend to build their game around an existing engine.
My normal engine of choice is Unity. However, Unity is a 3D engine and therefore adds extra complexity when building a 2D game. There are many 2D engines available, so it makes sense to use one of those.
First thought was GameMaker, which I know well. However, there's a new 2D engine on the block -- Construct 2 -- which is getting a lot of good buzz. Even better, its free (so long as you're not using it on a large scale commercially) and will create games which can be converted for mobile phones & tablets. So, I thought I'd use this project as an excuse to learn to use Construct 2.
Procedure -- "a way of creating, explaining or understanding processes" (where 'processes' refer to the operation of systems ranging from mechanical to religious concept structures).
Rhetoric -- "effective and persuasive expression"
These are then combined to form procedural rhetoric, which is "the practice of using processes persuasively". He gives the example of an interactive multimedia program which allows users to design packaging for a breakfast cereal; by following a series of cues, the user selects colours and illustrations (e.g. "orange is associated with appetite", "green with nature & health"). The aim is to educate children into recognising the manipulative techniques used by manufacturers & advertisers.
Persuasion
Games make use of persuasion for different purposes. One major goal of arcade games is to get 'coin drop' -- in other words, to make money. One tactic used is the option "Insert coin to continue" which uses the incentive of further exciting gameplay without having to regress to the start. To pressure the player into an emotional decision (which gives increased likelihood of a positive reaction), this is often a limited-time offer accompanied by a countdown clock.
Bogost also focuses on the use of persuasion to emphsise political & social messages. However, as this is not relevant to my main study I have skipped this.
Licensing & product placement are certainly big areas. Bogost illustrates the power of licensing through the example of Harry Potter video games. Many of these games re-create scenes, allowing the player to re-experience favourite sequences with a little interaction (something of note for my nostalgia research). Some offer teamwork exercises, others have sub-goals focusing on the minor aspects of the Potter universe (such as collecting Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans or mixing potions). What is interesting is that most of these games add very little that is new to the Harry Potter experience.
It's my observation that product placement has significant overlap with licenced/franchised intellectual property (IP), but specifically offers an opportunity to drop messages into a game which might not otherwise be included. For example, if a car street-racing game includes an advertising hoarding for Red Bull energy drinks, the player is likely to subliminally accept a connection between the brand and the excitment, hipness & coolness of motor racing.
Aesthetically & narratively abstract games (such as Pong) can be easily adapted into tools for persuasion by the simple addition of images or extrinisic backstory which link the game to a particular product or message (so long as this is reasonably compatible).
Practical application
This book has provided some valuable insight, and had also prompted an idea (see previous post) of using the abstract Escape! block-dodging game to investigate the psychological effect of adding visual product placement.
I intend to investigate three variations:
Plain, abstract graphics
Gratuitous product placement (e.g. company logos)
Game-mechanic-related product placement (e.g. Vince Vaughn character avoiding bouncing balls, mimicking the sports gameplay within the movie Dodgeball.)
I anticipate that '2' will produce some initial emotional reaction, and that '3' will produce an increased & sustained emotional reaction with players who are familiar with the movie. It'll be interesting to see how this plays out.
It's been a bit quiet on the blog this week, but don't worry -- there's a lot of work going on behind the scenes. I'm currently purusing three strands of research to support my general theme:
The effect of nostalgia & techniques which trigger emotional reaction -- a study of works on these topics (from a formal psychology standpoint). This will likely form part of the Literary Review which I have to submit in December.
Effect of isolated aesthetic nostalgia cues -- adaptation of a (very simple game) to experimentally examine the effect of isolated aesthetic nostalgia cues. I'll be creating two games: one will be a simple, plain (abstract) version, and the other will be the same game with different, nostalgia-themed graphics. I'll try both with test groups to examine the different reactions. This will likely grow into a key part of my main research project.
Continue with collection of potential nostalgia cues. The list is growing!
I stumbled upon this paper written by Tim Wildschut (et al) from the University of Southampton (2006), published in the (American) Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.
