If you’re writing fiction, you might consider video games a competitor in the battle to keep your reader’s attention. Since their early days, video games have been positioned as a ‘lesser art form’ to books—two opposing poles on the entertainment spectrum.
Today, however, these games feature complex, intelligent narratives, stunning visuals, and multidimensional characters—all on top of their gripping entertainment value. In fact, there’s a lot that writers of all genres, but particularly children’s and middle-grade fiction, can glean from the impressive storytelling and world-building found in video games.
In this article, The Novelry writing coach and children’s fiction author David Solomons shares five insights from video-game design that you can bring to your writing. David’s debut novel My Brother is a Superhero won the British Book Industry Awards Children’s Book of the Year and the Waterstones Children’s Prize in 2016. Since its publication, the novel has been translated into 23 languages and marked the beginning of a four-part series for children. He coaches children’s and Young Adult fiction here at The Novelry alongside our team of bestselling fiction authors.
David emphasizes the features of video games that will bring your writing to life, including the importance of mini challenges throughout your plot, a setting that drives and responds to the action, and ensuring your story has ‘replay value.’ He additionally provides tips on marketing your novel and making that all-important pitch as perfect as possible. Ultimately, David demonstrates how fiction and video games have a lot more in common than you might think—and how both mediums can learn from one another.
Leveling Up the Narrative: 5 Things Middle-Grade Writers Can Learn from Video-Game Design
When two or more middle-grade writers are gathered, and one of them is me, it won’t be long before I launch into my favorite take on the children’s publishing industry. So, if you’re the other one, consider this fair warning. I’ve been harping on for some time now about how writers of children’s fiction aren’t competing with one another—the truth is, we’re all competing with screens.
As a kid, I loved video games. I was there when the deep magic was written—when Atari ruled the living room with a joystick and a single button. I remember when Space Invaders had us all hooked, defending the Earth one pixel at a time, and Zork, where you navigated mysterious caves with nothing but your imagination and a text parser. The magic back then was raw, simple, and groundbreaking—a new language of storytelling and interaction that would evolve in ways we couldn’t even imagine.
But as the years went by, my interest waned. It wasn’t until my own son started playing that my old love for gaming was rekindled. Now, it’s a shared passion that lets us connect and have fun together in a space that he genuinely loves. We explore new worlds side by side and find common ground through the stories and challenges that gaming offers.
And here’s the kicker: the sophistication of modern games caught me off guard and got me thinking. These aren’t the pixellated diversions of yesteryear. Today’s games are complex, immersive, and rich with storytelling techniques.
Your first reaction to that might be the same as mine: intrigue, but mostly outrage. Uh, didn’t these Mario-come-latelys take everything they know from traditional narrative fiction?
Yes, they borrowed. And yes, the integration of these literary techniques into video games is a mixed bag—sometimes brilliantly effective, enhancing the immersive quality of the games, and sometimes clunky, detracting from the player’s experience.
But from what I can see, game developers have morphed those borrowings into something shiny and new, something that clicks with the digital generation. So, here’s my pitch: if you can’t beat ’em, learn from ’em. And no, I don’t mean turning every book into an augmented reality experience or a virtual reality extravaganza (heaven forfend).
This spectrum of implementation offers a rich field of study for today’s writers, especially those crafting stories for the curious, vibrant minds of middle-grade readers.
Let’s see how we can inject our stories with some of the engaging elements that make video games so enthralling. But I’m also keen to show that some of what we can learn from gaming is ‘how not to do it’—which can be equally instructive.
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1. Embrace the tutorial
Just like a game uses its early stages to teach players the rules, use the beginning of your story to teach readers how to understand your world.
In video games, the player always knows what the main objective is—rescue the princess, defeat the evil overlord, or solve the mystery. This clear sense of purpose is something that can really enhance a narrative in middle-grade fiction. By establishing clear goals for your characters early on, you give your readers a reason to stay invested in the story. Whether it’s a quest to find a lost artifact or a mission to save a friend, these goals drive the plot forward and keep the stakes high.
In your writing, what matters most is that the goal is clear and compelling enough to hook your readers right from the start. Once you’ve set up the main goal, think about breaking it down into smaller, incremental goals or milestones. Just as games often have levels or missions that guide the player closer to the final objective, your story can include smaller challenges that propel the narrative forward. These sub-goals not only keep the plot moving but also provide opportunities for character growth and development.
Throughout your story, keep the main goal in sight, even as your character faces obstacles. Subtle reminders through character dialogue, internal monologue or plot developments help keep the reader focused on what’s at stake. This doesn’t mean constantly repeating the goal but weaving it into the narrative in a way that feels natural and keeps the tension alive. If your reader can see the strings being pulled, then you’re doing it wrong.
But here’s the thing: it’s not just the characters who need clear goals. As authors, especially in today’s market, we need to understand the goal of our story from the outset, because the industry is increasingly driven by how pitchable a book is.
When I was starting out, I was clueless about marketing or pitching, but I lucked out—my debut was very pitchable, apparently. My Brother is a Superhero—both the book’s title and its logline—was the magic phrase. Subsequently, numerous booksellers have told me that those words made the book an easy sell.
In the intervening years, I’ve observed that the pitch has become ever more important, and long before the book hits the shelves. An editor may fall in love with your manuscript, but will their sales team? It’s much more likely if you can present the book in a snappy one-liner (and a couple of zinging comp titles).
Just as in video games where clear objectives keep the player engaged, a clear and compelling pitch can be the hook that draws in publishers, booksellers and, ultimately, readers. It’s about boiling down your story’s essence into something that resonates quickly and powerfully—a narrative goal not just for the characters in your book, but for the book itself.
And here’s a cheat code: don’t get waylaid or frustrated by trying to condense your entire novel into one line. Yes, books feature summaries or blurbs. However, when you’re crafting a logline, this is where you sell the sizzle, not the sausage. The goal here is to capture the essence of your book—the attitude, the tone, maybe the humor or the darkness, depending on the genre.
For example, let’s say you’ve written a funny middle-grade adventure. The short blurb might be: ‘When a group of kids discovers a portal to another world, they must band together to save both worlds from a powerful villain—all while surviving the perils of middle school.’
But the logline could be: ‘Saving the world? No problem. Surviving middle school? Now that’s the real challenge.’
So, as you craft your pitch, think about what makes your book stand out. What’s the core experience you want your readers to have? Turn that into a sharp, memorable line that leaves them wanting more. That’s the cheat code to a killer logline.
2. Everyone loves a map
In many great video games, the environment isn’t just a backdrop; it actively shapes the narrative and interacts with the characters. The world has a history that pulses through its landscapes, affecting the people who inhabit it and the events that unfold.
Rather than simply being a stage for the story, your setting can create obstacles, provide opportunities, and even alter the course of the narrative.
By treating your world as an active element in the storytelling process—one that pushes back, surprises and evolves—you add depth and complexity to your narrative.
This approach makes the setting feel integral to the story, something that readers engage with as deeply as they do with the characters themselves.
Good video games make you feel like you’re really there, whether it’s the cold, windswept mountains of Skyrim or the neon-lit streets of Cyberpunk 2077. To create a similar effect in your writing, focus on sensory details. What does the air smell like? How does the ground feel underfoot? What sounds fill the background? By engaging all the senses, you create a vivid, immersive experience that makes your readers feel like they’ve stepped into another world.
One of the key elements that make video-game worlds so captivating is the presence of ‘points of interest’: locations, items or events that draw the player in and encourage exploration. In No Man’s Sky, every planet you explore is filled with points of interest—ancient ruins, mysterious monoliths, or crashed freighters—each offering clues about the history of the universe or rewards like new technology and resources. These features aren’t just there to fill space; they serve to deepen the player’s understanding of the world, reveal backstory, or offer rewards.
In your writing, consider how you can create similar points of interest within your world. These could be mysterious landmarks, curious artifacts, or unexplained phenomena that prompt characters (and readers) to explore further. For instance, a crumbling statue in the middle of a desolate plain might hint at a forgotten civilization, or an ancient tree with strange carvings could suggest a deeper, magical history.
By planting these intriguing details, you not only add layers to your world but also give your readers reasons to delve deeper into the story. Just as a player might take a detour to investigate a strange noise in a game, your readers will feel compelled to explore the narrative further, uncovering hidden truths and expanding their understanding of the world you’ve built.
Even the most fantastical video-game worlds operate under a set of rules that make them believable within their context. Whether it’s the magic system in The Witcher or the technological advancements in Horizon Zero Dawn, these rules give the world structure and consistency. When crafting your world, establish clear rules—whether they relate to magic, technology, or social structures—and stick to them. This internal logic helps readers suspend disbelief and fully immerse themselves in your narrative.
3. You have earned the sword of power!
Games hook players by rewarding them for achieving goals, often employing a model based on unlocking achievements. Likewise, think of character development as something that can be ‘unlocked’ by the reader as they progress through the story. Instead of laying out all a character’s traits and backstory up front, reveal these details gradually, in response to the character’s actions or the challenges they face. In My Brother is a Superhero, rather than revealing all the superpowers at once, I structured the story so that each power was introduced one by one, as the protagonist needed them. This approach allowed me to keep the readers intrigued, each new power bringing a fresh twist to the narrative.
Games rely on feedback loops to encourage players to keep going. Getting points or power-ups right after completing a task—it makes you want to keep playing. In writing, feedback loops can be mirrored by showing the immediate impact of characters’ decisions, maintaining narrative momentum and reader interest. Similarly, if a reader notices a small detail early in the book that later turns out to be crucial to the plot, they experience a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment—much like discovering a hidden bonus in a game. By planting these elements thoughtfully throughout your story, you create a feedback loop that enhances engagement through a sense of discovery and fulfillment.
Additionally, callbacks to earlier events or thematic echoes can serve as another form of narrative reward. When readers recognize these patterns or references, they feel more connected to the story and more invested in the outcome.
Just as players are motivated to explore every corner of a game to find all its secrets, your readers will be driven to engage more deeply with your narrative, eager to uncover the layers you’ve woven into the text.
This brings us to another concept borrowed from gaming: replay value. Whether it’s to explore alternative story paths, unlock hidden content, or simply experience the thrill all over again, designers know the value of keeping players coming back for more. For writers, crafting a story with replay value means creating a narrative so rich and layered that readers want to revisit it, discovering new details and connections with each reading.
This could involve multiple perspectives that offer new insights when revisited, intricate plots that only fully reveal themselves on a second read, or complex characters whose true motivations and backstories are more fully understood over time.
4. Good versus bad story choices
Video games offer a great way to look at how storytelling decisions can either pull players in or push them away. When done right, these choices make the game feel immersive and emotionally gripping. When done poorly, they can break the flow and leave players feeling disconnected. Writers can learn a lot by looking at both the hits and the misses.
A good example is The Last of Us series by Naughty Dog. Here, the choices and actions of the characters have real emotional weight. The decisions made by Joel and Ellie don’t just affect the plot; they profoundly change how the characters relate to each other and the world around them, creating a story that feels deeply personal and engaging. Likewise, in your writing, when readers feel that a character’s decisions genuinely matter, they’re more likely to be drawn into the story, just as players are with Joel and Ellie’s harrowing journey.
On the flip side, some games fall into the trap of offering choices that seem important but actually don’t change anything—what’s known as ‘illusory agency.’ This can be really frustrating for players who feel like their decisions should have a bigger impact.
In your writing, make sure that the choices and challenges your characters face really do affect the direction of the story. If every path in your narrative leads to the same result, without any meaningful variation, it can make the story feel flat and predictable.
Take a look at this article on character agency and why it matters.
5. Don’t press start until you’re ready
In the video-game world, ‘going gold’ is a big deal. It’s the moment when a game is considered complete and ready to be shipped out for mass production. It’s a milestone that says: ‘This is it. We’re done.’ But here’s the thing: even after a game goes gold, it’s not uncommon for developers to release a massive patch on day one to fix bugs that slipped through the cracks. As you can imagine, this isn’t exactly ideal, and it’s something you want to avoid when it comes to your manuscript.
I once spent a year developing a story set in a game developer’s studio. It was about a character who has a nervous breakdown caused by the pressure of readying the game, and as a result starts hallucinating the game characters in his everyday life, causing chaos. The project was called Fragged, which, honestly, was the best thing about it. Let’s just say the project didn’t go anywhere, but the experience taught me a lot about the importance of making sure your work is truly ready before you release it into the wild.
When you’re writing, you get one shot with your manuscript to make a great first impression. It’s tempting to hit ‘send’ the moment you type ‘The End,’ but resist that urge. Instead, use all the resources of The Novelry—we’re here to provide fresh eyes, advice and encouragement.
Remember, once your book is out there, you can’t just release a patch to fix the problems. It needs to be as polished and bug-free as possible from the start. So, take a cue from game developers—get it right before you go gold.
The final save point: last words of advice
At its core, storytelling—whether in books or games—is about guiding an audience through a crafted experience. However, where traditional fiction leads the reader down a predetermined path, video games introduce the element of interaction, allowing the audience to influence the narrative. This fundamental difference opens up fascinating possibilities for writers to reconsider the dynamics of their craft.
In video games, the narrative is often a collaborative effort between the creator and the player. The game designer sets the stage, creating a world with its own rules, challenges, and opportunities, but it’s the player who breathes life into that world through their choices and actions. This interaction creates a unique narrative experience each time the game is played. For writers, this concept of interactive storytelling can inspire a more fluid approach to narrative structure, where the emphasis is placed not just on the events that occur, but on the agency of the characters within those events.
This idea resonates with my own approach to fiction writing.
I begin with a plan, a series of beats that outline the trajectory of the story. But if I’m lucky, something remarkable happens. When my characters are faced with the next beat in the plan, they surprise me by choosing a different path. They tell me, in their own way, that the choice I’ve plotted out for them isn’t the one they’d make—they’re going somewhere else. For me, this is when a book comes alive. The narrative evolves in ways I hadn’t originally envisioned, driven by the characters themselves, much like a player charting their own course through a game’s world.
Ultimately, video-game design and traditional fiction share a common goal: to create a meaningful and immersive experience.
By looking at how games engage players through interactivity and choice, writers can find new ways to engage readers, making the experience of reading not just a passive act, but an active journey of discovery. In doing so, the boundaries between creator and audience blur, and the narrative becomes a shared space where imagination, interpretation and meaning are continuously negotiated.
The biggest challenge for us? Keeping readers hooked till the end, just like a gamer stays glued to their screen until the final boss is defeated. This means pacing your story carefully, avoiding info-dumps, and keeping those pages turning with mini-cliffhangers and revelations.
In the grand tournament of storytelling versus screen time, may the best narrative win. And remember, while we can borrow plenty from the world of video games, the heart of a good book—the emotional resonance, the universal truths, the prose—remains our home turf. So, let’s level up our narratives with a bit of video-game magic, but never forget what makes a book uniquely powerful: its ability to touch the heart and stir the soul.
For more insights into literary techniques, coaching and a supportive writing community, join us on a creative writing course at The Novelry—the world’s top-rated writing school.