Premise

Up until quite recently I was writing regularly about video games. For years I had been articulating and sharing my thoughts on the most impactful play experiences I was having. It was something I enjoyed doing that helped me hone my skills as a writer. But in recent years as I moved into my Honours year I found myself making less time for writing. The absence of writing had a more profound impact on me than I’d predicted – I missed it. I felt out of step with the week. It felt like I was getting less done and as each week drew to an end a lingering tinge of apprehension settled into psyche. It was as though I was falling behind, forgetting a submission deadline that didn’t really exist.

Except in my head.

As I moved from Honours to PhD my research focus also shifted. As I pivoted towards the field of game studies I found myself back in my element. At the suggestion of my supervisor (and, to be fair, the suggestion of my honours supervisor) I took it upon myself to regularly document my thoughts, ideas, and research with regards to my PhD. I was writing regularly again – and it was about games again.

Well, sort of.

That is to say, I was writing about games but I wasn’t writing about my experiences with games I was playing. Not yet anyway. For the moment I was doing literature reviews. I was writing about thoughts about games. It was different. I was learning about what other games scholars have done in the field and thought about ways in which I might extend, blend, and adapt this body of knowledge for my own research. It was new and for the most part it sustained me.

Except.

Something I found over the course of last year was I was playing games a lot more restlessly. I never quite felt like I could settle on anything. I either drafted away from games or I was left feeling incomplete somehow after finishing. I grew to realize that processing my feelings and experiences through writing helped me get a sense of closure from games. I needed to wrap up my game experience with a story, not just with end credits or a final cutscene.

That brings me to the purpose of this new blog. I want to get closure again. I want to be writing about games again. But I also want to be journaling my daily (or semi-daily, or weekly) life experiences with games. As I begin to move through my early thirties, games have stopped becoming a thing I can dedicate my life to. I have other interests, commitments, needs and urges. I don’t play games in a vacuum. Rather, games fit alongside and among other aspects of my life – and I want to share those too!

About eleven years ago, alongside some other friends, I started to blog. Whereas my friends mostly moved away from it, I stuck with it as a daily habit. I was unemployed and directionless after high school. I wanted to say things, share experiences, and make connections with friends and people. I have grown a lot as a person – and a writer – since then, and whilst I don’t miss how much of a resentful and judgemental tool early twenties Angus could be, I do miss writing about my day, my experiences, and my life in context.

So here is game journal. It’s a place where I will share my ongoing play experiences along with my struggles to keep active; the music I’m listening to; the cooking; the cleaning; the emotional meltdowns; waiting for the doctor to see me; catching up with friends; the list could go on in the same way that life does.

Writing helps me process and move on. What 2018 taught me is that there’s more that I could be processing than games. But games are a nice place to start.