I’ve been playing Crimson Desert since day one, and despite genuinely loving the game so far, I’d be lying if I said I was not bummed by how janky those first hours felt.

From overwhelming controls and endless tutorial popups to the messy narrative setup, the early gameplay carries a kind of friction that is hard to ignore. Not in the charming sense of a niche game, but in the frustrating sense of a First Time User Experience (FTUE) that likely was not tested enough outside the dev team.

That is a shame, because there is an awesome game underneath all of this. The kind of game that brings back that childhood joy of playing just for fun, without obsessing over goals or progression. It is sad to realize how many players may bounce before ever discovering that magic. That is the hard truth about early impressions: a weak start can get in the way of a potentially great experience.

And that is exactly why today’s topic matters. So let’s dive in.

Not just a tutorial 💡

One of the most common mistakes in this conversation is reducing FTUE to tutorials.

Tutorials are part of it, of course, but it goes far beyond that. A strong opening teaches the basics of gameplay while also building trust, emotional connection, and expectations for what comes next. It is where the game starts answering a few critical questions in the player’s mind:

• What is this game about?

• Why should I care?

• How do I interact with this world?

• Am I curious enough to keep going?

A good opening answers those questions with clarity and care. A bad one creates distance, making players doubt the game, and sometimes their own skills earlier than expected. These issues are easy to postpone, but their cost compounds fast.

What makes a good FTUE? 🎯

A good FTUE usually does not feel like onboarding at all. It feels like the game is naturally introducing you to its own language.

At its core, it gets a few simple things right.

Clarity: Players need to understand what kind of experience they are in, what they can do, and what the game expects from them. If that mental model does not form quickly enough, confusion starts stealing attention from curiosity.

Pacing: People do not build confidence by being flooded with systems, rules, and edge cases in the first ten minutes. They build it by understanding one thing, using it in the right context, and then moving to the next one.

Learning by doing: Players usually learn better when the game allows them to do something meaningful instead of simply throwing a wall of text in their face. Good onboarding is not just communication, it’s choreography.

Engagement: A strong start helps players feel capable, curious, and engaged enough to continue. Even a technically solid introduction can fail if the player comes out of it feeling bored, stupid, or mentally drained.

So what does this mean in practice? 🤔

In practice, it all means prioritizing readability and pacing over volume. Teach the core loop first. Introduce one meaningful layer at a time. Let players perform the important verbs early. Give them one or two small wins so they build confidence.

This is why some onboarding examples still hold up so well. Portal 2 remains a classic because it teaches through level design, introducing mechanics one by one while keeping momentum high. Clash Royale is a very different example, but the lesson is similar: get to the core loop fast and layer complexity gradually.

Different genres, same principle. When players feel smart early, they stay longer. When they feel lost early, they start looking for the exit.

A strong FTUE also shows up in data signals such as better completion of onboarding steps, lower churn rate, and higher day-one retention. But all those numbers need context. A low completion rate is not always a sign that players are lazy or impatient. Sometimes it means the game is asking too much, too early.

If you want a simple checklist for reviewing your own onboarding, start here:

1. Can players quickly understand what to do and why it matters?

2. Does the game teach through action, one step at a time?

3. Do the first interactions feel clear, responsive, and inviting?

4. Do the first minutes spark curiosity?

If too many of those answers are shaky, the experience probably is too.

Test early, test often 🕹️

Onboarding becomes especially vulnerable when the team is too close to the game. Once you already know the controls, systems, and logic behind every choice, it becomes much harder to see what real players are struggling with.

That is why testing early matters so much. You do not need a polished build to start learning from people. Early testing exposes confusion, pacing issues, and friction that would otherwise harden into much more expensive problems later on.

You also need different play styles and skill levels. Otherwise, you risk validating an opening that only works for people already willing to fight through it.

That is part of what makes Crimson Desert such a useful example for this discussion about FTUE. Chances are the team either did not test enough, or did not test with a diverse enough pool of players, and you can feel some of that in the final product.

📝 Final Notes

A good FTUE is there to make players care enough to want the next minute.

That is the real job. Not overwhelming them with systems. Not proving depth too early. Just creating an opening that feels clear, inviting, and worth exploring.

It is also worth being fair with Crimson Desert here. Pearl Abyss moved quickly after launch, pushing updates that addressed many of the pain points players were calling out. That does not erase their hiccups, but it does show a team that is listening. And as a player, it feels so damn good to be heard.

So keep these lessons in mind the next time you design the first moments of your own game, or when you start analyzing the FTUE of the next title you play. Because for many players, first impressions do not just introduce the game.

They become the game.

I have a feeling that question has crossed your mind at some point too.

Let’s go back in time. As a teenager trying to write music with my bands, I was convinced more than once that I had captured lightning in a bottle, only to hear that the song sounded exactly like another one, but usually worse. It stung, because it felt like proof that I was not as creative as I imagined.

That feeling followed me into my early design career. I would build something I was proud of, only to realize it echoed something I had seen before. For a long time, I interpreted that resemblance as failure… then something shifted.

Around 2010, I watched a series built on a simple argument: everything is a remix. Every song, every film, every product builds on something that came before it.

At first, that idea feels deflating. If everything is borrowed, then what does innovation even mean? But the longer I sat with it, the more I realized the problem lies in the myth that innovation must look like invention.

Innovation beyond the myth 🦄

When people talk about innovation, they often picture disruption: a breakthrough that changes behavior so dramatically that what came before feels obsolete.

That kind of shift exists, and it dominates headlines because it is visible and makes for a compelling story. Yet most innovation unfolds more quietly. It refines what already works, deepens systems, and strengthens the core experience without discarding it. Entire industries run on this kind of progress, even if it rarely feels revolutionary.

Take Pokémon Crystal as an example.

It did not reinvent the formula established by earlier titles. It expanded it.

The real-time clock introduced day and night cycles that made the world feel alive and responsive. Subtle touches, such as animated battle sprites, added energy without altering the fundamentals. In the late game, after entering the Hall of Fame, the entire Kanto region opened up, reframing the journey and giving players new reasons to engage. And let’s not forget that Crystal was the first game in the series to allow players to choose between a male and female character.

The core loop remained intact: catch, train, battle. What changed was the depth and texture of the experience. The system became richer without feeling unfamiliar.

At the same time, even Pokémon Red and Blue were not really that “new.” They drew from established JRPG traditions and earlier monster recruitment systems present in games like Megami Tensei or Dragon Quest V. But collection became the central motivation, amplified by the link cable and the social act of trading.

Familiar mechanics were reorganized around a clear behavioral hook. What felt “new” was not invention from scratch, but creative framing. I would say that was their big disruptive swing.

The same pattern appears elsewhere. The smartphone emerged from the convergence of existing technologies. Battle royale reorganized multiplayer conventions around scale and tension. Free to play adapted monetization logic from arcades and online platforms into a new economic model. Netflix did not invent streaming, but it redefined how we consume media.

Disruption often looks like originality, but more often it is structured recombination guided by a deliberate shift in behavior. And that distinction matters when you are the one building within real-world constraints.

When balance enters the picture ⚖️

If disruption frequently takes the form of recombination, why does it feel so difficult to pursue in practice?

This is where The Innovator’s Dilemma becomes relevant. Clayton Christensen argues in his book that successful companies tend to double down on what already works. They listen closely to their most valuable customers, protect proven revenue streams, and invest in improving their existing products. Over time, this produces quality and stability, but it also makes radical bets harder to justify.

Inside a mature system, new ideas are rarely evaluated in isolation. They are measured against current performance, established expectations, and risk tolerance. Iteration appears responsible, while disruption can feel uncertain or even reckless.

It is easy to romanticize bold ideas from the outside, but it is challenging when you are staring at roadmaps, player feedback, and the very real consequences of getting things wrong. What looks like hesitation from a distance often feels like sound judgment up close.

As designers, we operate within constraints: audience expectations, technical limitations, business goals, and the invisible weight of what already works. Context shapes what kind of innovation is possible at any given moment. Recognizing that does not diminish our ambition. It sharpens it.

📝 Final Notes

Innovation is better understood as a spectrum shaped by constraints than as a magical breakthrough moment. Sometimes the right move is to deepen and refine an experience that already works, while other times it is to reorganize familiar elements around a new behavioral shift. The difficulty lies not in choosing one over the other, but in reading the situation accurately.

Everything may be a remix in spirit, but meaningful innovation happens when ideas are recombined with intention, not simply merged. It requires identifying what kind of change the moment calls for and having the clarity to pursue it.

If my teenage self had understood that earlier, I would have avoided a lot of unnecessary drama on my creative journey.

Some games are mechanically dense, filled with systems, numbers, menus, and choices, yet they feel comprehensible. Others feel confusing, even when they are technically simpler.

This difference is rarely about player intelligence or genre familiarity. It often comes down to how well a game manages cognitive load.

Cognitive load is not an abstract psychological concept reserved for textbooks. It is something players instinctively feel every time they open a menu, make a decision, or try to follow what the game is asking from them.

It is also important to note that cognitive load is not static. It fluctuates and is usually highest at the beginning of an experience, when players are still learning the rules, the interface, and the logic of the system. As players build an internal understanding of how things work, where information lives, and what outcomes to expect from their actions, often referred to as mental models, and as those actions become familiar, that load naturally settles.

Good UX and smooth onboarding do not remove complexity. They exist to help players move through this learning phase in a positive way, allowing attention to gradually shift from understanding what is in front of them to making interesting decisions.

When cognitive load is well managed, players feel confident and in control. When it is not, frustration shows up fast and churn often follows.

Let’s break this down with examples, shall we?

First things first… 🕹️

At a simple level, cognitive load is the amount of mental effort required to process information and make decisions. In games, this includes:

• Understanding rules and systems

• Reading interfaces and feedback

• Remembering goals and constraints

• Making choices under time or emotional pressure

The problem is not complexity itself, but unstructured complexity. Players can handle a lot, as long as the game helps them answer three questions clearly:

1. What am I looking at?

2. What matters right now?

3. What should I do next?

A grand strategy game like Civilization V is a good example here. Despite presenting dozens of systems at once, players are usually guided toward a small set of relevant decisions per turn. The interface supports this funnel, allowing complexity to unfold at a controlled and understandable pace.

In contrast, other games may surface multiple currencies, timers, events, and offers simultaneously. Even if each system is simple in isolation, the combined load can quickly exceed the limits, leaving players unsure about what deserves their attention.

The pillars of clarity 🔍

It’s natural to wonder why some games feel readable and understandable, while others quickly become overwhelming. In most cases, this clarity comes from a few consistent UX decisions working together.

Let’s look at some of the most important ones.

Strong Hierarchy

Readable games are deliberate about informational hierarchy. They decide what should stand out at each moment, instead of letting everything compete for attention.

Important information is visually louder. Secondary information is present but quieter. Rarely used details sit one level deeper, ready to be accessed when needed.

When hierarchy is missing, everything feels equally important and players are forced to sort it out themselves. And when everything is important, nothing really is.

Clear Grouping and Mental Models

Well designed interfaces group related elements in ways that match player expectations. Resources live together. Progression lives together. Combat related information lives together. This structure supports how people think and helps consolidate learning over time.

When systems are scattered across multiple unrelated screens, tabs, or visual styles, players struggle to build mental models. They may know where things are, but it never feels intuitive. The goal is for players to develop a simple understanding: if I need information X, it usually lives in place Y.

A common pitfall in feature heavy games is adding a new menu or tab for every new system. Over time, the overall sense of structure erodes.

Progressive Disclosure

One of the most effective tools for managing cognitive load is progressive disclosure.

Good games rarely explain everything upfront. Instead, they reveal systems gradually, at the moment they become relevant. This applies to mechanics, menus, economy systems, and social features alike.

Players do not need to understand the entire game from the start. They need to understand what matters right now and what the next meaningful decision is.

Slay the Spire offers a strong example of this approach. The game introduces mechanics slowly, allowing players to internalize core concepts before adding more layers. Early runs are intentionally limited, teaching through play rather than dense explanations, while complexity ramps up step by step.

Cluttered Interfaces 😵‍💫

When hierarchy breaks down, grouping becomes inconsistent, and progressive disclosure is ignored, interfaces tend to drift toward clutter.

Clutter is rarely the real problem. It is usually a symptom of unclear use cases, overlooked edge cases, or features added too late or without the player in mind. Instead of guiding attention, these interfaces force players to constantly interpret what is safe, important, or optional.

This is where errors start to appear. Not because players are careless, but because the interface no longer communicates clearly enough to support confident decisions.

Accidental spending of premium currency due to unclear confirmations or misleading emphasis is a common example. In these cases, the failure is structural, not user driven. When this happens repeatedly, trust is broken.

Players become cautious and defensive, and enjoyment fades away. Games make these failures especially visible, because we feel them emotionally and immediately.

📝 Final Notes

Cognitive load does not disappear with experience. Players may adapt, but that does not always mean the design is clear. It often means they have learned to work around it. That is why these things need to be revisited and reevaluated continuously.

Readable games respect player attention. They guide focus, reduce unnecessary mental effort, and allow complexity to emerge naturally through learning and mastery.

If you want to go deeper into these concepts, books like The Design of Everyday Things, The Gamer’s Brain, and Don’t Make Me Think are great starting points. They are not about rigid formulas, but about understanding how people behave when interacting with systems and making decisions.

In the end, clarity is not about simplifying systems. It is about structuring information in ways that support understanding. That is a UX craft skill that makes a difference, whether you are designing games or any other interactive product.

Welcome to Gamers Book Club, where I share a book recommendation each month as a substack note. Every few months, I collect those suggestions into a single post like this one, so you can check all in one go.

This edition brings together the books from September to December 2025. They explore creativity, influence, and the realities of working in games. If you are looking for some thoughtful inspiration to start the year, this is a good place to begin.

The Creative Act: A Way of Being

by Rick Rubin

This one is not about games, but about creativity itself, which makes it especially relevant for anyone working in our industry. Rubin frames creativity less as a talent and more as a way of living. Through short, almost meditative chapters, he talks about presence, curiosity, and the openness required to build something meaningful.

It is less about process and more about mindset. How to notice ideas, how to sit with them, and how to shape them without forcing outcomes. Some chapters can feel repetitive or abstract, and if you are looking for concrete frameworks, you will not find them here. Still, the perspective is valuable as a reminder that creativity is not about control, but about attention.

Rubin’s tone occasionally leans close to self help, which is not usually my style. Even so, the idea of treating creativity as a practice rather than a destination really resonated with me. After a year where work and life left little space for my other creative hobbies, this book felt like a timely reset. If you are open to a slower, more reflective take on creativity, this one is worth your time ✨📘✨

The Creative Gene

by Hideo Kojima

Still on the topic of creativity, this is a collection of essays where Kojima reflects on the media that shaped him, from sci fi novels and films to music. Influences range from Blade Runner and Inherit the Stars to Joy Division and the Sony Walkman.

Rather than analyzing these works in depth, Kojima focuses on how they quietly molded his creative instincts over time. You start to see how Metal Gear Solid and Death Stranding are the result of a lifetime of small obsessions, not just big ideas.

I went in expecting more behind the scenes stories, something practical to “learn” from. Instead, I found something more personal. A portrait of a creator dealing with loneliness, doubt, and a constant search for meaning.

I read this shortly before seeing Kojima speak at THU Japan in September, which made the book land even harder. It reinforced a simple truth: creativity comes from staying curious, feeding your mind, and paying attention to the world around you.

Also, I got my copy signed by the man himself 😉

Jacked: The Unauthorised Behind the Scenes Story of GTA

by David Kushner

GTA shaped entire generations of players, developers, and critics. Whether you played San Andreas after school or followed Rockstar through years of controversy, it is hard to deny how much the series pushed the medium forward. I still remember playing the first GTA on PlayStation and feeling a kind of freedom that completely blew my young mind.

The book dives into the chaos behind the franchise: last minute ideas, creative clashes, iconic storylines, and the relentless hunt for fun. It shows how bold decisions, stubbornness, and a bit of luck turned GTA into one of the most influential game series ever made.

What stayed with me most was how the team navigated the tension between creative freedom and public outrage. Some choices aged better than others, but all of them reflect a medium that was still fighting for legitimacy.

Kushner also wrote Masters of Doom, one of my all time favorites, so I went in with high expectations. Jacked lived up to expectations and offered sharp storytelling, as well as an honest portrayal of American gaming culture in the early 2000s.

Up Down Up

by Kim Nordstrom

This book explores why some game companies succeed while others fail by focusing on the business realities behind game development. Through interviews with industry leaders, it breaks down the real phases studios go through: startup, growth, maturity, decline, and sometimes recovery.

There is no magic formula here. The main conclusion is uncomfortable, but important: most studios don’t fail because they lose talent, but rather because they fail to adapt or simply grow too fast. Processes that once worked start slowing teams down, decision making becomes heavier, and risk avoidance replaces experimentation.

I especially liked how grounded the leadership and culture discussions are, alongside the very honest lessons shared by different interviewees. If you have worked in a studio during both good and rough periods, much of this will feel familiar.

On a personal note, the book features several European studios, including places I have worked at or still have friends in. Seeing those stories through a wider business lens was genuinely interesting.

This is a solid read for designers, leads, and anyone about to start their own studio.

Wanna Learn More?

New Gamers Book Club picks drop at the end of each month over on my Substack Notes, or you can just wait for the next roundup post like this one.

Got a recommendation for me? Share it in the comments! ✨📘✨

2025 was a heavy year. Globally, personally, professionally, it felt like things were happening nonstop, with barely any space to process. As my christmas break approached, I had another post planned, but I decided to change course and use this last newsletter of the year in a different way.

This will be personal, but the goal is not to rant or list achievements. I want to share three learnings from this year, around workload, creativity, and the current state of the gaming industry, and talk about what I want to do differently in 2026. If nothing else, think of this as a small pause before we all move on to the next level.

Creativity needs maintenance 🧠

For some quick context, I have been working in the gaming industry for over a decade as a UX designer, mostly in mobile games. I currently work on Clash of Clans, a game I genuinely care about, both as a developer and as a player.

That mix is powerful, but it can also be dangerous.

When you deeply care about a project, it becomes easy to push yourself further than necessary. Not because anyone is asking for it, but because you want to do right by the players, the team, and the game. This year, that dynamic was very present for me.

I was involved in several features, but two stood out as the most demanding challenges of my career so far. They were big swings that changed core parts of the game, required constant tradeoffs, and brought a lot of interesting design challenges. I even had the chance to explain one of these features directly to players in a video.

Ok, this looks like a positives-only story.

But toward the very end of the year, something felt off.

I was not burned out in the classic sense. I was still delivering and engaged, but creatively, I felt drained. I struggled to generate new ideas, could not reconnect with my hobbies, and even writing here did not flow as naturally as before. I picked up the guitar and nothing came out. Gaming felt boring. Everything felt flat.

After pausing with that feeling for a few days, something clicked 💡

Without fully realizing it, I had spent the year consuming creative energy without replenishing it. I’m always telling myself and others that creativity needs to be nurtured, yet I had accidentally put myself on a kind of creative fast.

I was productive, but I was not feeding the part of me that makes that productivity sustainable. I was solving problems at work, while neglecting playing music, reading comics, and other creative outlets that usually keep my passion alive.

What really hit me was realizing there was no crunch culture to blame this time, no external pressure to point at. This was a trap I set for myself, and I had to own it.

Here is learning number one: balance matters, especially when your work depends on creativity and passion. We live in a world that rewards constant output, and it is easy to forget that creativity is not infinite. If it is not nurtured, it dries up.

Give yourself permission to pause. Not to optimize rest, but to actually chill. Play a game just to play it. Spend time on your hobbies without turning them into side projects. Go for a walk, spend time with people you care about, do things that exist outside productivity loops. I am taking the time to do all that, and I am confident things will be fine in the next cycle 😉

Your work is only one part of who you are, and its quality depends far more on your well being than we usually like to admit.

A tale of two industries 🎭

The broader entertainment industry feels shaky right now. Big corporations are trying to squeeze every possible drop out of proven formulas, quality swings wildly, and short term thinking often wins over long term care. I will stick to the gaming industry here, since it is my favorite form of entertainment, and chances are, if you are reading this, it is yours too.

The amount of layoffs over the past two years has been brutal. The job market feels tense, with multiple senior professionals competing for every open role, studios shutting down, and projects being greenlit or cancelled based on abstract forecasts rather than a real understanding of their consumers. Add gambling mechanics creeping further into games plus questionable acquisitions, and it becomes harder to stay optimistic when looking at the headlines.

But there is another side to this story.

At the same time, we are seeing incredible games succeed by taking a very different approach. Smaller teams are shipping focused experiences, studios are proving you can do more with less, and titles are climbing the charts by listening to their players and building genuine connections with their communities. Indie games have been leading this charge, with examples like Expedition 33 and Silksong reinforcing the importance of fair pricing, meaningful updates, and long term trust. I am sure larger studios are paying attention, and slowly things tend to course correct.

What fascinates me is that both sides of this industry are often looking at similar data, yet arriving at completely different conclusions. While some companies read the numbers as a signal to play it safe on innovation or double down on aggressive monetization, others interpret the same signals as a reason to stay bold creatively, practice restraint, and invest in long term trust. Many of these teams avoid massive marketing budgets that inflate costs and push return expectations to unrealistic levels. The recent debate around 80 dollar price tags is a good example of how business decisions can drift away from what consumer behavior actually tells us.

Living inside this tension brings me to learning number two.

Understanding business and being able to interpret data is more important than ever for creative minds. It directly strengthens your ability to promote your vision and advocate for players.

In corporate environments, which describes most game companies today, speaking the language of business helps your ideas survive prioritization meetings, budget reviews, and roadmap discussions. It allows you to frame player first decisions in ways that resonate with leadership, defend the right tradeoffs with clearer arguments, and influence outcomes where they matter most.

This is something I want to explore more deeply in a future newsletter, but I strongly believe the discomfort many UX designers feel around business topics is holding us back. Avoiding these conversations limits our influence and makes it harder to establish the right mindset where the most impactful decisions are actually made.

As a result, evolving my understanding of business and data is firmly on my radar for the next year, and I would encourage anyone working in the industry to do the same.

The elephant in the room 🐘

It would be hard to do a 2025 recap without touching on AI. This is a complicated topic for me, and one I want to explore more deeply in a future post, once I find the right words to do it justice. For now, here is the short version: I am deeply uncomfortable with how things are going, but I also know this is not going away.

Earlier in my career, around the early 2010s, I worked on projects involving machine learning, big data, and IoT at a Samsung R&D facility. The technical foundations behind those efforts are not radically different from what powers many of today’s AI tools. What feels different now is the framing. A lot of what surrounds generative AI today feels rushed, overhyped, and careless.

What frustrates me most is not the technology itself, but how aggressively it is being pushed into creative spaces. Generative AI often presents an ultra simplified, highly processed shortcut to complex thinking. My real concern is the long-term effect this has on our perception of quality. If enough low effort content is normalized, the bar shifts. Maybe people around our age will push back, but I worry about what becomes “normal” for the next generation.

At the same time, I have to be honest with myself.

I have worked in tech long enough to know there is no rollback here. These tools will continue to evolve, adoption will increase, and eventually things will stabilize. Ignoring them does not stop that process. It only removes our ability to influence how they are used.

So here comes my last learning.

If I want to have a meaningful voice in future conversations about AI, I need to understand it better. That does not mean abandoning ethical concerns or blindly adopting every new tool. It means learning enough to separate useful applications from harmful ones, and to argue for responsible use from a position of knowledge rather than rejection. Just like with business literacy, understanding does not mean agreement. It means agency.

I fully respect anyone who disagrees with this stance. And no, I am not ok with AI systems trained on stolen work or used to replace creative professionals under the guise of efficiency. But if we want to push back on those practices, or help shape better alternatives, we cannot do that from the outside.

In the tech industry, knowledge is leverage.
Even when the topic makes us uncomfortable.

📝 Final Notes

This ended up being longer and more personal than usual, but that felt right. If even one of these reflections helped you pause or see these topics a bit differently, then this piece did its job.

We are closing one year and stepping into another that will bring its own mix of surprises and challenges. So take a break, recharge, and step away from the noise when you can.

Thank you for reading and for helping me build this space during its first year. I am looking forward to continuing the conversation in 2026.

Take care, and see you in January.

Welcome to Tales From The Couch, the series where I share my opinions and short UX notes about a game I played.

Today’s pick is Pokémon Legends: Z-A, a new entry that brings clever changes while keeping some of the issues that have hurt the franchise for years. We’ll go through the good, the bad, and the ugly to see if we can squeeze some UX insights out of it

Spoiler alert: this one will be a tough read…

👾 Setting the stage

Legends: Z-A takes place in Lumiose City, the capital of the Kalos region, a few years after the events of Pokémon X & Y. It follows the structure of Legends: Arceus but trades open fields for one dense, layered city with a new combat system and day-and-night cycles. It is both a sequel and an experiment, trying to evolve the formula while revisiting one of Pokémon’s most iconic storylines.

🚨 First things first

Pokémon has earned over 100 billion USD in lifetime revenue, sold 480 million games, shipped more than 50 billion cards, and expanded its merch empire across every possible category. It is the biggest entertainment franchise on the planet, surpassing names like Star Wars, Marvel, and Barbie.

That adds to the bias around their games. I am not neutral here, and I know I am not alone. Pokémon sits firmly among my favorite games, and I have played every single title since the Game Boy days. This love makes my “fanboy” side excited about every release and my “designer” side personally offended when the execution falls short.

🔎 The good, the bad and the ugly

The new real-time battle system is a clear win. It finally makes fights feel like they do in the anime: fast, messy, and alive. You can move, dodge, and time attacks in ways that are fresh. It is what Legends: Arceus promised and didn’t fully deliver.

But the shine fades quickly. Even with better performance, Z-A looks rough. Textures are flat, animations stiff, and Lumiose City, while ambitious, often feels like a beautiful cage. You see buildings you cannot enter, lifeless rooftop areas, items you cannot reach and unfinished corners. These small breaks slowly chip away at the magic.

Mega Evolution returns and fits perfectly within the new combat rhythm. It is nostalgic, polished, and easily one of the best reintroductions the franchise has done. The mechanic is fun, but the visuals are tricky. Some Mega Pokémon designs look so off that at times I wondered if an AI had generated them.

Then there are the pacing issues. Tutorials drag, navigation is clunky and somehow in 2025 there is still no voice acting. The silence during emotional moments kills immersion and makes many players skip what is actually a very good story.

Despite the rough edges, I did not hate my time with it, plus the soundtrack was a blast. There is heart behind this project, and that matters. You can tell the team wanted to push the series forward instead of repeating the formula, but something happened along the way. Still, it is hard to defend the final product to anyone who does not share the same nostalgic bias mentioned earlier.

This led to good discussions with friends from the industry.

🎮 Quality bar and player trust

For me, Game Freak’s recent history is a case study in compromise. Legends: Arceus was rough but inspired. Scarlet & Violet were ambitious but broken. Z-A stands somewhere in between: full of good ideas, but inconsistent in execution.

When we talk about quality in games, we are not talking just about graphics. Players today have seen Cyberpunk 2077 with its gorgeous Night City, or games like Vampire Survivors and Minecraft that create engagement and immersion through game feel rather than visuals. The bar for what is considered polished is higher than ever, and with the Switch 2, the old “hardware limitation” excuse no longer works.

Players can feel when a game respects their time. That is why Z-A frustrates me. It has ambition, but lacks consistency, and that weakens trust.

In UX we often say that consistency builds confidence. Every screen, sound, and animation tells players how much the developers cared about the experience they are building. When performance dips or systems clash, the illusion cracks. Players do not just lose patience; they lose belief.

Raising the quality bar is ultimately about respecting player’s time, curiosity, and willingness to engage with your world. These elements are the fuel that carry them through the experience and turn a good game into a memorable one.

And yes, I know every studio faces deadlines that force compromises. That is part of game development. We all make trade-offs between ideal solutions and what we can ship in a given timeframe. But the key is to treat those compromises as temporary, almost like buying time until we level up our outputs, not as a standard.

Do not let the bargains that are part of development become a habit. When “good enough” becomes acceptable, the bar drops. You stop noticing the cracks, slowly losing sight of what really matters: your players. And that is when trust fades.

🧩 Final Notes

Pokémon Legends: Z-A is a paradox. It dares to evolve the formula, but it still struggles with that sense of rush to deliver more instead of better. I want to believe it represents a step in the right direction, but only time will tell.

So my conclusion is simple: play it if you love the franchise, or if you want to see what happens when business ambition grows faster than care for the audience.

Also, take this message with a grain of salt, because business constraints are not always bad. If applied correctly, they can push teams to focus on what truly matters. But we will dive deeper into this topic in the next article, so keep an eye out for it 😉

This article pairs nicely with my previous post, “A Comprehensive Guide to Game UX”. If you haven’t read that one, I suggest checking it out.

Every now and then I get messages from designers asking me to review their portfolio or share tips for building one. My first reaction isn’t great, since it reminds me how neglected my own portfolio is, but after that moment of guilt I usually share the same advice. So let’s make it easier for both sides and put everything into this article.

Why is it so difficult? 🫠

If you’ve ever built a portfolio, you know it’s harder than it looks.
Designing for others is easy, designing yourself is chaos.

Your portfolio can summarize your journey even if you’re not looking for a new job. But for this post, let’s assume your portfolio is the interface between you and your next opportunity.

My advice boils down to two principles:

• Use a what / why / how structure to explain your thinking.

• Quality beats quantity. Three great projects are better than ten “okay” ones.

Let’s unpack these and a few more tips so you can take action right now.

1. Treat it like a product 🎮

Your portfolio solves a user problem.

• User: recruiter or hiring manager

• Goal: understand who you are, what you do, and how you think

• Success metric: getting the next conversation

Approach it like any design challenge. Keep it clear, focused, and easy to explore.

2. Tell a story, not just show screens ✏️

People don’t hire pixels, they hire thinkers. Each project should explain:

• The problem

• Your role

• The process

• The impact

Whenever possible, back up your work with numbers (e.g. “reduced drop-off by 15%”), but even qualitative outcomes count. What matters most is showing how you think and the impact of your actions, not just what you built.

3. Make it a workshop, not a museum 🛠️

Skip static galleries. Show thinking in motion with sketches, wireframes or prototypes.

For UX/UI designers, balance visuals with reasoning. Explain why something looks the way it does, that’s what turns “pretty” into “purposeful.”

And please, keep it curated. Nobody needs to see every project you’ve ever done.

4. Write like a human 💬

Avoid things like “leveraged insights to enhance experiences.” Say what really happened: “Players were confused by X, so I simplified Y.”

Your writing reflects your design maturity. In a sea of AI-generated text, your own tone and honesty make a difference. Don’t forget that this is where people check for fit, your words give a sense of who you are. The idea is simple: good writing = good UX.

5. Keep it short, not shallow ⏱️

Focus on quality, not a minimum number of projects. Make sure each one follows a clear what / how / why structure so readers instantly understand your reasoning.

If you’re new to the industry, it’s fine to make your own briefs or redesign an existing game as a case study. Personal projects are also fine, as long as you know what they’re meant to communicate, whether it’s UI creation, prototyping, or implementation skills.

If you’re more focused on UX than UI, include visuals from the team when needed, just credit your collaborators and clarify your role. That transparency shows collaboration skills, something that adds a lot of value.

6. Choose the right format 🚀

Early career? Notion, Medium, ArtStation, or Behance will work well.
More senior? A simple website feels more professional.

Whatever you use:

• Keep navigation simple

• Make it mobile-friendly

• Add contact info

Tailor your top projects to each role. Match your platform to your craft. ArtStation suits visual-heavy work, while Notion or personal sites fit UX or research cases better.

📝 Final Notes

A strong portfolio isn’t about showing everything, it’s about showing how you think.

If someone closes your page and says, “I get how this person solves problems,” you’ve done your job. For my part, I hope this gives me the push to finally update my own portfolio so I can stop feeling like an impostor when I talk about this topic 😂

Got a great portfolio or an extra tip to share? Drop it in the comments.

Welcome to Gamers Book Club, where I share a book recommendation each month as a substack note. Every few months, I collect those suggestions into a single post like this one, so you can check all in one go.

This round features titles from May to August 2025. These books explore different angles on games, design, and the industry as a whole. I hope they bring you insights, inspiration, or maybe even a creative push. Shall we start?

Critical Hits: Writers Playing Video Games

Edited by J. Robert Lennon and Carmen Maria Machado

A deeply personal anthology that explores games as both cultural artifacts and emotional anchors. In it, celebrated authors reflect on how games have shaped their identities, relationships, creativity, and sense of self.

Some essays focus on specific titles like The Last of Us, Disco Elysium, Halo, and Call of Duty. Others explore broader themes such as language, gender identity, race, and memory. The tone shifts from vulnerable to nostalgic, cerebral, and political.

Every piece shares a desire to understand what it means to live, feel, and grow up alongside games not just as entertainment, but as immersive spaces we carry with us.

The writing throughout is so damn good, and as a nice surprise, Clash of Clans (aka the game I work on) makes an appearance in one of the essays.

Control Freak

by Cliff Bleszinski

A memoir from one of the most iconic and polarizing voices in modern game history. Cliff Bleszinski takes us on a journey from playing obsessively as a kid to shaping genre-defining titles like Unreal and Gears of War.

The book is full of behind-the-scenes stories fans will love, but what really stood out was how openly he shares his personal side. From childhood traumas and moments of loss, to hard earned lessons in life and leadership, he doesn’t hold back.

Some chapters are tough, but they are handled with honesty and care. The writing is smooth, entertaining, and full of personality. I tore through it in record time. It made me want to jump back into Gears to chainsaw some Locust… but also made me wanna call my dad just to say I miss him.

Control Freak is honest, funny, and unexpectedly moving. A reminder that games are art, and the people behind them are just as complex as the worlds they create.

Game Feel: A Game Designer’s Guide to Virtual Sensation

by Steve Swink

A must-read for anyone trying to wrap their head around this tricky, often hard-to-define concept.

Swink describes game feel as the tactile, visceral sensation players experience when interacting with a game. He breaks it down into three core pillars: real-time control, simulated space, and polish. Together, they form a clear framework for analyzing game feel more deliberately.

It’s not the most fluid read out there. The early chapters lean heavily on theory, and some parts are dense. But once he starts exploring familiar games, the book really picks up. The insights are sharp, and the core message is incredibly useful.

Disrupting the Game: From the Bronx to the Top of Nintendo

by Reggie Fils-Aimé

Part memoir and part leadership guide, it follows Reggie’s path from his early life to becoming president of Nintendo of America and one of the most recognizable figures in gaming.

What I like most is how the book blends personal stories with industry turning points. Reggie reflects on lessons from earlier professional experiences and his bold actions at Nintendo, framing the pillars of his leadership style along the way. It is insightful, entertaining, and full of practical examples of how challenging norms can lead to meaningful change.

There are takeaways about empathy, resilience, and risk-taking, but it’s also just fun to revisit Nintendo’s biggest moments through the eyes of someone who helped shape them. For me, it reinforced that leadership practices are not only for managers but also for anyone who wants to excel as an individual contributor.

As a bonus, it pairs perfectly with Ask Iwata, another favorite from these posts.

Wanna Learn More?

New Gamers Book Club picks drop at the end of each month over on my Substack Notes, or you can just wait for the next roundup post like this one.

Got a recommendation for me? Share it in the comments! ✨📘✨

I’ve loved Tony Hawk games since the first time I landed a virtual flip. Like many 30-something players, this series shaped both my taste in games and music.

The recent wave of remakes, first THPS 1+2 and now 3+4, brought that rush back. But beyond the nostalgia, they reminded me how satisfying these mechanics are, even decades later. There’s something special about how quickly the game responds to your inputs, and how its exaggerated feedback communicates success.

That feeling has a name: Game Feel.

So, What Is Game Feel? 🕹️

Game feel is that visceral sensation you get when playing a game. The sensory feedback loop where controls, visuals, and audio come together to make every moment feel good. In simpler terms, game feel is about amplifying feedback so that every input feels satisfying.

Steve Swink, in his book Game Feel: A Game Designer’s Guide to Virtual Sensation, breaks this concept into three core pillars:

1. Real-Time Control

Real-time control is all about responsiveness. In THPS, you can see it in the snappy movements of your skater. Press a button and the game reacts instantly. There is no lag, no wobble, just a smooth interaction that connects you with the game.

Swink calls this the foundation of game feel. It’s basically what bridges the gap between intent and outcome, and the reason we often say “the car hit me” instead of “my character got hit” when we are immersed in play.

2. Simulated Space

Fast responses would not do much without a world to make them meaningful, and Tony Hawk’s levels absolutely deliver here. Ramps, rails, buildings, and gaps are all placed to suggest motion and invite improvisation.

The more you play, the more you learn to “read the room” and spot opportunities.

Of course, it is not just about building the scenery. Actions need weight and coherence, while the space needs to behave accordingly. We are talking acceleration, gravity, and momentum all tuned to the game’s context so that things match your expectations.

3. Polish

This is my favorite part, the icing on the cake.

Polish is where feedback turns into emotion and the pillars connect. VFX, sounds, animations, screen shake, and haptics all work together to reinforce your actions and make them more satisfying. In THPS, you see sparks when you grind, trick names pop up on screen, and meters flash at just the right moment to hype you up.

By the way, don’t worry about sticking to real-world references here. Polish is not about realism. It’s about response and excitement.

Beyond the Pillars 🧩

While Swink’s pillars form the backbone of game feel, other elements such as metaphors, rules, and theme also join the party to shape the final package. In his book, the author outlines a broader model of interactivity that shows how these extra variables influence the player’s perceptual field.

I highly recommend checking out the full book. Well, to be fair, it is not the most fluid read for me. It starts with a heavy punch of theory, but once Swink dives into familiar games and shows these concepts in practice, everything clicks.

📝 Final Notes

Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater is a masterclass in game feel. It rewards creative risks, sharp timing, and playful experimentation. Its magic is in that deep sense of control that turns us into pro skaters, even if only in a virtual world.

How about you? What’s a game that felt so good you couldn’t put it down? Chances are, it nailed game feel. 😊

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources for you:

• Design Diary - 10 Ways to Improve Game Feel

• How Game Designers Juice Games with Mechanics, Pacing and Effects

Games are great at building habits. Sometimes too great. Whether it’s daily rewards in Animal Crossing or the gamified streak pressure in Duolingo, designers are masters of keeping us coming back. But where do we draw the line between clever design and outright exploitation?

When done right, habit formation keeps players engaged in meaningful ways. But when misused, it can push people into compulsive loops that feel more like obligations. In this article, we’ll break down the psychology of habit formation and explore games that apply it well.

🧠 The Psychology of Habits

At its core, habit formation follows a simple loop:

• Cue – A trigger that prompts the behavior.

• Routine – The behavior itself.

• Reward – A positive reinforcement that strengthens the habit.

This concept is well-explored in books like Atomic Habits by James Clear and Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman. They explain how small behaviors, when repeated consistently, become habits—and how we can apply these insights.

Key Principles for Habit Formation in Games

• Make It Obvious – Cues like login bonuses, alerts, and progress bars remind players to engage.

• Make It Attractive – Reward structures, compelling mechanics, strong narratives, and social elements enhance motivation.

• Make It Easy – Smooth interactions, like one-tap actions or contextual triggers, can help reduce resistance. Our brains are wired for efficiency, or simply kinda lazy, so we naturally gravitate toward low-effort, high-reward actions.

• Make It Satisfying – Immediate feedback, polished SFX/VFX, and well-timed incentives reinforce continued play.

So how do we stay on the right side of this balance? A player-first mentality.

Simply asking “Is this good for the player, or just for the company?” makes all the difference.

✅ Good Applications of These Concepts

Some games build habits in ways that feel natural and fulfilling rather than manipulative. The difference lies in intent—whether the mechanics enhance player enjoyment or push behaviors that only benefit the business.

• Animal Crossing: New Horizons – Encourages daily play through small, satisfying tasks and villager interactions. No harsh penalties for missing a day.

• Pokémon GO – Rewards outdoor activity and social interaction through daily streaks, limited events, and rare Pokémon encounters.

• Hay Day – Encourages short, flexible play sessions, creating a satisfying routine without trapping players in an endless cycle.

• Duolingo – Not a game but it uses gamified streaks and friendly challenges to build learning habits without harsh penalties. (Though recently, mascot reactions and notifications have started pushing the limits.)

💡 The devil is in the details. These same mechanics can be harmful if applied in ways that mislead players into behaviors they wouldn’t otherwise choose.

⚠️ “Bad Applications” of These Concepts

Not all habit-forming game design is ethical. Some games employ dark patterns (psychological tricks that create compulsive behaviors at the expense of player well-being) to boost their results. The difference isn’t always in the mechanic itself, but in how it’s applied.

• FOMO-Based Limited-Time Events – Many live-service games introduce events with exclusive rewards that create urgency. While occasional events can be exciting, an endless cycle of time-limited content pressures players into logging in constantly for fear of missing out.

• Energy and Wait Timers – These mechanics slow progression unless players pay to speed things up, creating artificial frustration. However, not all implementations are inherently bad, some games use timers fairly to pace gameplay and prevent burnout. The problem arises when waiting is designed to frustrate or force a pay wall rather than naturally balance the experience.

• Endless Progression – Some games ensure that there’s always another milestone just out of reach, keeping players engaged longer than they intended—and often without meaningful payoffs.

📝 Final Notes

Before implementing habit-forming mechanics, we should always ask: Is this loop enhancing the player’s experience, or just maximizing engagement for the sake of revenue?

Habit-forming design isn’t the problem. Thoughtless design is. When we put the player first we don’t just build engagement, we build trust. 😊

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources for you:

• Hooked: How to Build Habit-Forming Products

• Game Maker’s Toolkit - How to Keep Players Engaged (Without Being Evil)

Welcome to Tales From The Couch, the series where I share my opinions and short UX notes about a game I played.

Today we’ll talk about Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom, a bold and clever spin on the franchise that does a lot right.

👾 So, is it good?

Yes, absolutely. This is a vibrant, puzzle-driven adventure that reimagines Zelda as the hero and gives you a toolset that feels fresh and empowering. Instead of swords and boomerangs, you solve problems using "echoes", magical replicas of objects and creatures you've encountered during your journey.

The result is a charming and expressive sandbox. The puzzles are clever, the soundtrack is lovely, and the joy of finding weird solutions never really wears off. It keeps the Zelda DNA intact with all the dungeons and secrets while leaning into experimentation in a way that feels both playful and modern.

It also reminds us how our critical sense changes depending on the quality of the product. When a game is mediocre, we let a lot slide. But when it’s great, we expect every part of it to meet that same high standard and all the small cracks stand out.

🔎 How about the UX?

Echoes of Wisdom is a great reminder that even brilliant ideas need the right UX to fully shine. So, let’s break down the good, the bad, and the ugly of this experience.

1. The Good: A Sandbox Made of Echoes

At the heart of this game is a very UX-friendly mechanic that we started seeing in Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, creative freedom for overcoming challenges. You can solve puzzles in different ways depending on what you spawn and how you use it.

Got a gap to cross? Build a bridge out of tables. Stack beds. Use trampolines to bounce like an acrobatic goblin. Find the option that fits your playstyle best. It’s fun, systemic, and feels like the game is letting you cheat, but in a way it wants you to.

From a UX perspective, this is a textbook case of “multiple paths to the same goal”, one of the best patterns for accessibility and player engagement. It encourages lateral thinking, experimentation, and personal expression. When a game lets you play your way, that’s powerful.

The balancing here is also solid. Some echoes are definitely overpowered, a couple can make combat less challenging, but you usually get them right as you’re ready to level up your strategies, so they feel empowering, not game-breaking.

2. The Bad: Switch Showing Its Age

The Nintendo Switch has had a good run, but it’s showing its limits. Performance issues like frame drops and stuttering are noticeable in handheld mode, especially during chaotic scenes. It’s not unplayable, but it’s disappointing for a first-party.

From a UX angle, this becomes a problem of delivery. The ideas are strong, but the hardware introduces friction. It’s like trying to paint with only a few crayons. You can still make something great, but it takes more effort than it should. Still not such a big deal, especially with the Switch 2 out in the wild!

3. The Ugly: Menu Madness and Control Issues

Here’s where the experience really stumbles: the UI.

Managing your echoes, arguably the core mechanic, is handled with a clunky, horizontal scroll of tiny icons. There’s no grouping, no customizable categorization, no favorites and no way to remap things. It quickly turns into a patience test. Want to use your go-to echo during a boss fight? Hope you remember where it is — or that it happens to show up in the last-used section.

You can always access the full inventory from the main menu, but who has time for that when you are trying to beat a boss! My immersion and enjoyment was constantly interrupted by waves of annoyance.

From a UX standpoint, this isn’t just a missed opportunity. It actively fights the core gameplay. Simple design tweaks could fix this: group echoes by type or use case. Better use of vertical space. Let players pin favorites. Even adding a second row of icons would reduce the friction significantly. And when your game is about solving puzzles, your tools shouldn’t feel like puzzles too.

There are already many redesigns made by fans circulating online, this video from Game Maker’s Toolkit is a good example, showcasing how a few simple layout changes can massively improve the interaction (spoiler alert: most fan mockups feel better than the official design).

🧩 Final Notes

I had a great time with this game and strongly recommend it. I did all the side quests, explored every corner, and loved messing around with echoes. It’s smart, joyful, and packed with “wait… that actually worked?!” moments.

But it’s also a reminder: great ideas need great UX to really shine. Then again, maybe that’s just the game whispering: "You've got the tools. Fix it yourself."

🎮 What am I playing now?

I've been quite busy but I’m hoping to dive into both Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 and Doom: The Dark Ages as soon as I find time.

And of course, I'd love to hear your thoughts—did you enjoy Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom and agree with what I said? Tell me in the comments, I’d love to hear what you think ⚡

Today’s my birthday, so let’s get a little personal. I promise there’s an insight waiting at the end, trust me 📝

Last week I went to the Figma conference in San Francisco. Great talks. Inspiring keynotes. And most refreshingly, a break from the gaming industry bubble I’ve been in for the past few years.

What stood out most wasn’t the tools or workflows, it was the people.

Architects turned product designers. Physicists now leading creative teams. Artists who found their way back to tech through unexpected side doors. No straight lines. Just honest, messy, winding paths.

Maybe you’ve had that moment too when someone asks how you got into your field, and your answer sounds like: “Honestly? It just sort of happened.”

I used to think that was a red flag. But hearing all those stories helped me realize that detours aren’t a bug. They’re the feature.

When It Clicked

A lot of people in games grew up obsessed with them from the early age. That wasn’t really me. I spent most of my childhood drawing (badly), reading Tintin, Wolverine, TMNT, and watching Thundercats on VHS in an infinite loop. I didn’t dream of working in games. I didn't even dream about a future job. I just wanted to make cool stuff.

Then came the Super Nintendo. That Christmas, Super Mario World flipped a switch.

It wasn’t just fun, it was immersive (not that I knew that word back then). The first few rounds already made me fall in love with games, but what truly opened my eyes was watching someone else play: my mom.

She tilted the controller to jump. Flinched when enemies appeared. Her whole body reacting to what was happening on screen. We were playing the same game, but having totally different experiences. That moment stuck with me.

If you’ve ever watched someone interact with something you made, and saw them feel something, you know that moment. It’s a reminder that good design isn’t just about how things work. It’s about how they make us feel.

Building a Creative Compass

Games were expensive in Brazil. Renting was my only option… and a risky one. Pick the wrong game, and you were stuck with it for two weeks, basically an eternity for a kid. So I started keeping notes. Literally! Scribbled reviews like: “Too hard.” “Shooting is fun.” “Space is awesome.”

I didn’t know it then, but I was building a UX mindset. Trying to understand what made things feel right, and what didn’t (kind of like what we do in Tales From The Couch 🤯).

Maybe you’ve done something similar. Rethinking broken systems. Reverse-engineering why something clicked or why you hate something else. That urge to break things down to understand them doesn’t go away, it just evolves.

As I got older my path wasn’t linear. I studied Portuguese Language in university right after school because I wanted to be a writer (that didn’t last long). Switched to photography. Then graphic design. Motion graphics. Cinema. Websites. Apps. Eventually, I stumbled into UX, Cognitive Science and later games, my old passion. It’s funny to think I never saw it as a realistic path—until one day, it just popped up.

I kept applying the same logic from my childhood notes: breaking things down, spotting patterns, and coming up with ideas and solutions for each of these jobs.

If your career feels “all over the place,” maybe that’s not something to fix. Maybe it’s a sign you’re expanding your creative range. Collecting tools, information and stories. Shaping the way you solve problems and build new things.

So, What’s the Point of All This?

For the longest time, I thought I lacked focus. That I was just chasing novelty without direction. But I see it differently now.

What we often call “messy” is exactly what creative growth looks like.

The odd jobs. The half-finished projects. The pivots that didn’t make sense at the time. That’s where the learning happens. Quietly, consistently, and often without us noticing. So if you’ve ever questioned whether your path makes sense, I want you to know: it probably does. And if you’ve achieved things but never stopped to appreciate them, maybe today’s the day to pause.

Here’s my birthday wish:

Take a moment, not to plan or optimize, just to reflect. Think about the messy, winding, deeply human story that got you here. I bet the younger version of you would be pretty damn proud. 🔥

P.S. Back to Our Regular Programming

This post was more personal than usual, but I think these moments matter. And I hope something in it resonated with you. We’ve got more design-focused content coming up soon. Until then just keep making cool sh*t, ok?

Welcome to Gamers Book Club, where I share a book recommendation each month as a substack note. Every few months, I collect those suggestions into a single post like this one, so you can check all in one go.

This first roundup features titles from January to April 2025. These books explore the people, stories, and ideas behind the games we play. I hope they bring you insights, inspiration or maybe even a creative push. Shall we start?

Press Reset: Ruin and Recovery in the Game Industry

by Jason Schreier

This book explores the harsh realities of game development, using insider stories from games like BioShock, Epic Mickey, and Dead Space to expose the instability behind studio closures, layoffs, and crunch culture. It offers a crucial look at the human cost of the gaming industry's growth and the problems that often go unseen by players.

It also dives into how individuals and studios try to rebuild after a fall, sometimes starting over entirely, other times pivoting to something new. It’s not just about what went wrong, but how people kept going.

Jason is also the author of other great titles like Blood, Sweat, and Pixels and Play Nice, both highly recommended.

How Games Move Us: Emotion by Design

by Katherine Isbister

The book offers a nuanced, systematic look at how games foster empathy and create strong, positive emotional experiences for players. It breaks down the elements that make games such a unique form of entertainment, from character interactions to body movement, and shows how emotional design can impact the player experience.

Isbister draws on examples from Little Big Planet, indie gems like Journey, and thought-provoking works like Brenda Romero’s Train to illustrate how design choices affect emotional and social responses. There’s also a list of references at the end, perfect if you’re hungry for more material on emotional design or player psychology.

Masters of Doom

by David Kushner

This book tells the true story of John Carmack and John Romero, the visionary minds behind DOOM and Quake. It dives into how they built their company, the fascinating people involved in that journey, and the highs and lows they faced along the way.

It’s a gripping look at how two brilliant but wildly different personalities came together to revolutionize not just gaming but pop culture as a whole, only to eventually clash and go their separate ways. Part biography, part tech history, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in game development or the origins of modern gaming. A tale of friendship and betrayal, raw passion and innovation, commerce and artistry, and all the conflicts that come with creativity and ambition.

If you need a dose of inspiration or a reminder of why you love this complicated industry, go give it a read.

It also inspired this post about the UX of DOOM —check it out if you haven’t yet!

Ask Iwata: Words of Wisdom from Nintendo's Legendary CEO

by Satoru Iwata

This heartfelt collection offers a glimpse into the mind of the visionary behind Nintendo’s golden years. Through Iwata’s own words and reflections, the book shares his thoughts on leadership, creativity, and his mission to create joy through games.

Reading about the development of the Wii, DS, and titles like Kirby and EarthBound was a real treat. Learning about the ideas, risks, and challenges behind these products gave me a new appreciation for their design. What makes this book even more special are the contributions from Shigeru Miyamoto and Shigesato Itoi. Miyamoto shares warm anecdotes about his friendship with Iwata, while Itoi offers touching insights from their long conversations.

If you're into tech, Nintendo, or simply want some inspiration, this is a great choice. A short but thoughtful book that celebrates curiosity and the joy of creativity.

Wanna Learn More?

New Gamers Book Club picks drop at the end of each month over on my Substack Notes, or you can just wait for the next roundup post like this one.

Got a recommendation for me? Share it in the comments. ✨📘✨

Welcome to Tales From The Couch, the series where I share my opinions and short UX notes about a game I played.

Today, it's all about Split Fiction, Hazelight Studios' new co-op adventure.

👾 So, is it good?

Split Fiction is a dynamic, genre-blending game where two authors become trapped in their own sci-fi and fantasy worlds. The gameplay mixes puzzles, platforming, and fast-paced action, so get ready for shooting and intense boss fights. Compared to A Way Out and It Takes Two, this one demands quicker reflexes and more precision—which might feel overwhelming for more casual folks, but it’s undeniably fun.

I played it with my wife, and we argued way less this time around (though every boss battle took several tries 😅).

The story was nice, but honestly, the highlight for me was the pure button-smashing chaos of the gameplay. Hazelight clearly knows how to deliver memorable co-op experiences, and Split Fiction might be their best yet. And as a bonus, the inclusion of a Friend's Pass that lets a friend join for free is a smart, player-friendly move that we don’t see often in today’s industry.

🔎 How about the UX?

Two things really stood out for me:

1. Cooperation feels good

Humans love working together—our brains thrive on it. Games like Split Fiction leverage aspects like trust and synchronization. When we play cooperatively, we naturally start coordinating better, anticipating our partner’s moves, fine tuning our communication and feeling deeply connected, especially in local multiplayer setups.

This taps into social facilitation—the idea that we often perform better just by being around others. Shared physical space, non-verbal cues, and instant reactions make winning (or even losing) together much more engaging. It's a big part of why couch co-op feels uniquely satisfying and Split Fiction uses all that in its favor.

2. Handling the Skill Gap

Managing different player skills can be challenging in co-op games. In game design there’s a design trick for these cases called 'asymmetric gameplay'—giving each player a unique role that can be tailored to their strengths. Split Fiction does this well, helping everyone feel valuable, even if one player is less experienced.

The game also incorporates concepts like scaffolding and thoughtful feedback loops to help gradually build players' confidence and showcase progress. If skill gaps still feel frustrating, you can tweak difficulty settings or simply swap roles until everyone’s comfortable. Addressing these differences openly can turn potential tension into opportunities for connection.

Ultimately, Split Fiction excels by creating memorable experiences that turn shared challenges into lasting memories. Recruit a gaming partner and go check it out!

🎮 What am I playing now?

I've been exploring different mobile games, diving through my endless backlog of unfinished games, and patiently waiting for Death Stranding 2 and Mario Kart World to be released.

I'd love to hear your thoughts—did you enjoy Split Fiction, and what memorable co-op moments have you had? ⚡

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources for you:

• Easy Allies - Split Fiction Game Review

• Mahtgician Games - Designing Cooperative vs Competitive Gameplay

There’s a strange kind of calm that comes with ripping through hordes of demons at 200 BPM. It shouldn’t feel peaceful, but somehow, it clicks. Our brains tune into the rhythm of destruction, and we enter a state where time bends, reactions sharpen, and decisions feel instant—it’s glorious.

I found myself thinking about that again recently while reading Masters of DOOM. It got me wondering why this game feels so damn good to play.

Part of that appeal might come from something deeper than design. DOOM taps into our primal instincts. It gives us fear, threat, and the tools to overcome both. It’s a power fantasy wrapped in survival logic, delivering a kind of controlled chaos that somehow feels... therapeutic.

This isn’t just adrenaline—it’s flow. And DOOM might be one of gaming’s purest expressions of it. So, shall we break that down and pull out some UX insight?

🎯 Flow State

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described flow as a state of full immersion—where challenge and skill are in perfect sync, and everything else fades. Gamers know this well: it’s the moment you forget you’re holding a controller and you’re really “in the zone.”

From a UX perspective, flow isn’t accidental—it’s built. DOOM nails it by aligning player intention with system response. Controls are sharp. Goals are clear. Feedback is immediate. And the difficulty? Just challenging enough to keep you fully engaged, it’s always pushing, but rarely overwhelming.

From the pixelated corridors of the original DOOM to the brutal arenas of DOOM Eternal, the series leans into classic flow triggers: fast loops, rising stakes, and intuitive readability.

You start by running and gunning. Then you learn to move smarter. Manage resources. Chain attacks. Before long, you’re not just surviving—you’re dancing through hell.

DOOM doesn’t eliminate friction—it shapes it. Each small win reinforces the next. It’s a reminder that friction, when intentionally and meaningfully placed, can enhance the experience instead of getting in the way.

To stay in that rewarding state of flow, players need more than just reflexes—they need understanding. And that’s where mastery comes in.

🧠 Mastery Through Repetition and Pattern Recognition

DOOM isn’t just about chaos—it’s about learning. You start clumsy. You miss shots. You die. But a few arenas later, you’re gliding through it all with confidence. That’s not luck. That’s mastery.

Every demon has a role. Every weapon, a purpose. Each encounter is a fast, brutal puzzle. You scan the space, prioritize threats, and solve through movement.

Game Maker’s Toolkit breaks this down beautifully with the 4 P’s of DOOM’s combat:

• Push-forward combat – You gain health by charging forward, not hiding. Aggression is the safest strategy.

• Power resource management – Glory kills, chainsaws, and flamethrowers all feed your resources. Knowing when and how to use them is key to survival.

• Positioning – Every arena is spatial. You’re thinking in movement: where to dash, jump, or flank.

• Pace – DOOM knows when to ease off. A quiet corridor here, a light puzzle there—just enough to reset before the next onslaught.

The brilliance is in how the game teaches without telling. You’re constantly improving, guided by tension and timing. And when it clicks, sequences like “glory kill into double jump into mid-air snipe” don’t feel like effort—they feel like instinct. They feel like flow.

🧩 Final Notes

From a UX point of view, DOOM plays with friction in a way that teaches rather than punishes. Encounters are rarely easy—but never unfair. Funny how a game this wild can teach us about control, and how pacing supports mastery in this case.

Most importantly, this game trusts the player. It skips hand-holding tutorials and throws you into hell with a simple message: “Figure it out.” That trust makes each breakthrough feel earned. You don’t just finish the game—you prove yourself worthy of it, one blast at a time.

With DOOM: The Dark Ages coming up, the question is: how will the franchise evolve?

Will the medieval setting disrupt the rhythm, or take it somewhere new?
Will it refine what works, or throw us into a fresh kind of chaos?

We’ll find out soon enough. 😈

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources for you:

• UX Republic - Flow, a key concept for UX designers

• Extra Credits - When Difficult Is Fun: Challenging vs. Punishing Games

• Game Maker’s Toolkit - The 4 "P"s of DOOM's Amazing Combat

Welcome to Tales From The Couch, the series where I share my opinions and short UX notes about a game I played.

Today, we're talking about Undertale—the friendly RPG where nobody has to die. Well… kinda.

👾 So, is it good?

Undertale is a compelling narrative adventure disguised as a retro-style RPG—one of those indie classics that stuck around for a reason. You play as a child trying to return to the surface of the Earth, but between you and freedom lies a world of quirky monsters, bizarre humor, and choices that actually matter.

With its simple puzzles, out-of-the-box combat system, creative minigames, and strangely profound dialogue, Undertale shows a strong understanding of its audience. This silly-looking title subverts expectations of what an RPG should be, delivering an intricate look at humanity and morality. It might not click for everyone, but there’s a reason it keeps showing up in Best Games of All Time lists.

So, if you haven’t played it yet, consider this your sign.

🔎 How about the UX?

We could go full philosophy mode here, but let's stick to two things that make this experience stand out:

1. Decision-Making for Real

Most RPGs let you make choices, but Undertale makes sure you feel them. The game doesn’t just ask, "Will you fight or spare?"—it remembers. Your actions carry over across playthroughs, subtly (or not-so-subtly) shaping your journey. If you go for a pacifist run, you’ll need to unlearn years of RPG instincts, thinking outside the usual actions. But if you take a more ruthless approach… well, let’s just say the game won’t let you walk away without consequences.

This weight behind decisions makes Undertale unique. Just like in real life, choices don’t exist in a vacuum—they shape the world around us, and sometimes, there’s no undo button.

It also adds a lot to the game’s replayability. Each run feels distinct, not just in outcomes but in emotional tone. My first playthrough left me with a bad ending that felt dark and unsettling, while my second attempt—where I made more thoughtful choices—was far more rewarding. Few games make you reflect on your own decisions quite like this one.

2. The Power of Perception

Here’s where Undertale gets really clever. Cognitive perception isn’t just about what we see—it’s about how we interpret information based on our own experiences and expectations.

The game thrives on this. It bends traditional RPG conventions, but if you’re not familiar with those tropes, some of its magic won’t hit the same way. The ability to resolve combat without violence? Mind-blowing for longtime RPG fans—confusing for someone new to the genre. The meta-narrative tricks? Even cooler if you recognize the rules being broken or simply get the reference.

I’m not saying you need to be an RPG veteran to enjoy Undertale, but a lot of its most memorable moments land best when they challenge something you already believe to be true. It’s a great lesson in knowing your audience—when a game understands the player’s context, what they like, and the references they bring with them, it can craft interactions that feel personal and deeply rewarding. That’s how you create truly unforgettable experiences.

🎮 What am I playing now?

I’m not gonna lie, life’s been very busy, but I’m on a quest to finish both The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom and Indiana Jones and the Great Circle. That is, if I can stop getting distracted by Balatro and Pokémon TCG Pocket long enough to actually roll credits on anything.

What are your thoughts on Undertale? Drop a comment and hit me with some new game recommendations ⚡

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources for you:

• IxDF - What is Perception in UX/UI Design?

• Game Maker's Toolkit - Morality in the Mechanics

Accessibility in gaming isn’t just about making games playable—it’s about making them enjoyable for everyone.

In the previous articles, we explored the impact of customization, showcasing great examples from both software and hardware. Now, in the final part of this series, let’s dive into how offering multiple ways to complete tasks can enhance not just accessibility, but also engagement and the overall fun of the experience.

Why Does This Matter?

Players come from diverse backgrounds, with different preferences and playstyles. A one-size-fits-all approach to task design can leave some feeling excluded or frustrated. Providing multiple ways to complete objectives ensures your game remains engaging and welcoming—no matter who’s holding the controller.

Let’s break this down with examples from games that do it well.

Multiple Ways of Task Completion

1. On-Screen Shortcuts

Menus are a necessary part of most games, but navigating them shouldn’t be a challenge. Offering flexible ways to access settings or navigate menus—like on-screen shortcuts or accelerator prompts—can make a world of difference.

🎯Example: Grounded and Forza Horizon 4 let players jump directly to accessibility settings from the title screen, eliminating the need to dig through menus to find it. This allows players to fine-tune their experience before they even start playing.

⭐Design Tip: Consider shortcuts or customizable menu layouts to help players quickly access essential settings without frustration.

2. Alternative Paths to Objectives

Game objectives often require players to complete a series of actions in a specific order—but not every player will approach them the same way. And that’s okay!

🎯Example: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom allows players to tackle puzzles in countless ways. Can’t figure out the intended solution? You might be able to climb over it, glide past it, or use creative interactions to bypass the challenge entirely. This level of freedom is one of the key reasons for the game’s success—and my personal favorite part of the experience.

Similarly, in Stardew Valley, players can complete item-based tasks by choosing from a pool of valid items. They can acquire these items through farming, fishing, combat, or even purchasing them. This flexible approach extends to other tasks as well.

⭐Design Tip: Embrace creative problem-solving when designing objectives. Offering alternative paths ensures that all players—whether due to disabilities or personal preferences—can still achieve their goals.

3. Varied Combat Engagements

Combat is a core element in many games, but players approach it in different ways. Offering alternative combat styles or difficulty adjustments can make these moments more interesting and accessible.

🎯Example: Minecraft Dungeons lets players defeat enemies up close with melee weapons or rely on long-range attacks like arrows and explosives.

Hitman 3 offers multiple mission approaches—stealth, direct combat, or environmental manipulation—allowing players to strategize based on their preferences rather than being forced into a single style, ensuring that no two playthroughs feel the same.

⭐Design Tip: Integrate difficulty sliders, diverse weapon categories, and alternative options or playstyles when applicable. Tailor these elements to fit your game's mechanics to maximize accessibility and player engagement.

4. Flexible Input Methods

Offering multiple, customizable input options ensure all players can engage with in-game challenges comfortably.

🎯Example: Assassin's Creed Valhalla gives players control over quick-time event inputs, offering options like bypass, one-time press, hold, or repeated presses. This inclusive approach makes an otherwise inaccessible mechanic more user-friendly.

⭐Design Tip: Offer remappable controls, support alternative input devices and incorporate features that reduce physical or cognitive strain, building on ideas from our first article.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, flexibility is key. It empowers players, sparks creativity, and makes games more enjoyable for everyone. And don’t worry—implementing these ideas doesn’t have to be a huge task. Start small! Look for those moments where players might be struggling or feeling restricted, and think about how you can offer options that open up the experience.

I also hope this series helped show that accessibility isn’t just about making games playable—it’s about making them better. These ideas can boost real changes in how we design games and create meaningful interactions.

That’s it for now, but stay tuned for more UX insights and fresh topics! 😉

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources to dive deeper into accessibility in gaming:

• NN/g Accessibility and Inclusivity: Study Guide

• The Game Accessibility Guidelines

• Inclusive Design for a Digital World by Regine Gilbert (Book)

• Giving a Damn About Accessibility (Free Ebook)

Accessibility in gaming isn’t just about making games playable—it’s about making them enjoyable for everyone.

In the previous article, we focused on customizable experiences through the lens of The Last of Us Part II. Now, let’s shift our focus to hardware accessibility, diving into assistive technologies and adaptive gaming equipment.

Why Should We Think About Hardware?

For many players, traditional controllers aren’t an option. Specialized devices and alternative inputs can make all the difference in ensuring a more inclusive experience.

Let’s explore this technology further and uncover key design insights.

Hardware Customization: Assistive Technologies in Gaming

1. Adaptive Controllers

Some players may struggle with traditional game controllers due to limited mobility. Adaptive controllers provide an alternative, allowing for customized setups.

🎯Example: The Xbox Adaptive Controller allows players to connect switches, buttons, and joysticks, creating a modular control scheme tailored to their needs. A key factor in its success is its intentional design—it not only functions well but also looks and feels like a true Xbox product, rather than a medical device. Ensuring that accessible gaming hardware is not only functional but also desirable for consumers is a major opportunity in this space.

⭐Design Tip: Ensure your game supports control and button remapping.

2. Alternative Input Methods

Touch controls, voice commands, and eye-tracking technology can help players with mobility impairments engage with games more easily.

🎯Example: The Tobii Eye Tracker allows players to control movement and aim using only their eyes, making games more accessible for those with limited hand dexterity.

⭐Design Tip: Consider integrating alternative input methods and offering adjustable sensitivity settings for different control types.

3. Haptic Feedback and Audio Cues

Some players depend more on tactile and auditory feedback than visuals. Haptic feedback and spatial audio can enhance the gaming experience for them.

🎯Example: The DualSense controller for PS5 uses adaptive triggers and haptic feedback to provide a tactile sense of in-game actions, helping players who rely on physical sensations for gameplay immersion.

⭐Design Tip: Consider adjustable haptic feedback and spatial audio when designing.

4. Customizable Hardware Profiles

Giving players the ability to save and switch between different hardware configurations can be a game-changer for accessibility.

🎯Example: The Steam Deck allows users to create custom control profiles for different games, making it easy to switch to an optimized setup.

⭐Design Tip: Ensure your game’s accessibility features remain consistent across different platforms to provide a seamless experience for all players.

Final Thoughts

There are many assistive technologies available to help players tailor their gaming experiences to their specific needs. However, these players still need to interact with standard gaming hardware— such as consoles and PCs —before connecting their adaptive devices. That’s why understanding these platforms are also important.

In the next and final article of this series, we’ll explore Multiple Ways of Task Completion—a key concept in making games even more flexible and accessible for all players. Stay tuned! 😉

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources to dive deeper into accessibility in gaming:

• Xbox Accessibility Guidelines

• The Game Accessibility Guidelines

• Inclusive Design for a Digital World by Regine Gilbert (Book)

• Giving a Damn About Accessibility (Free Ebook)

Accessibility in gaming isn’t just about making games playable—it’s about making them enjoyable for everyone.

This article kicks off a three-part series where we’ll explore key concepts that make games more inclusive.

In this first installment, we’re focusing on customizable experiences—a powerful way to give players control over how they interact with a game. We’ll start with software-side accessibility, using The Last of Us Part II as a case study.

Why Build Customizable Experiences?

Every player is unique. Some may have different physical abilities, sensory limitations, or cognitive needs. Others may just want a more comfortable way to play.

Let’s break this down into key areas where customization can make a difference.

Software Customization: The Last of Us Part II

1. Visual Settings

Offering customizable display settings can make a game more accessible to those with visual impairments or preferences.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II features a high-contrast mode, making characters and objects easier to distinguish. Players can also adjust text size, HUD elements, and colorblind-friendly options, ensuring they can process visual information more easily.

⭐Design Tip: Include options for text scaling, adjustable contrast, and HUD customization. Consider implementing colorblind-friendly palettes.

2. Audio Settings

Providing detailed sound settings ensures a game can be enjoyed by players with varying hearing abilities. Enabling audio cues and text-to-speech features can also take the experience to a whole new level.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II allows players to adjust individual volume levels for dialogue, sound effects, and music. It also provides visual indicators for important sounds, ensuring critical gameplay cues aren’t missed.

⭐Design Tip: Offer separate volume controls, subtitles with speaker identification, and visual cues for important sounds.

3. Game Difficulty Settings

Allowing difficulty adjustments ensures that more players can engage with your game in a way that’s enjoyable for them. This can be a tricky topic in games like Dark Souls, but there are many ways to approach difficulty settings while preserving design intent. Celeste and The Last of Us offer great examples of this balance.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II offers granular difficulty customization. Instead of a simple easy/normal/hard selection, players can adjust enemy AI, resource availability, and stealth effectiveness to fine-tune their experience.

⭐Design Tip: Go beyond generic difficulty modes by offering options like adjustable enemy behavior and puzzle skips.

4. Motion Sickness and Visual Distraction Settings

For some players, excessive visual information or frequent notifications can be overwhelming. Customization help streamline the experience.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II includes options to reduce camera shake, motion blur, and screen flashes, helping players who are sensitive to visual distractions.

⭐Design Tip: Provide adjustable camera settings and toggles for pop-up notifications to reduce unnecessary clutter.

5. Input Controls and Mapping

Customizable controls can make a game accessible to players with different motor abilities or preferred playstyles.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II includes fully remappable controls and adjustable stick sensitivity.

⭐Design Tip: In addition to remapping, offer toggle/hold alternatives and consider compatibility with adaptive controllers.

6. Other Mechanics and Game Elements

Certain mechanics can be barriers for some players. Assistive features help bridge those gaps.

🎯Example: The Last of Us Part II includes features like Enhanced Listening Mode and Lock-on Targeting to assist players who may struggle with fine motor controls

⭐Design Tip: Consider adding assistive mechanics, navigation related ones and auto-aim are a good start.

Final Thoughts

When you give players the tools to adjust their experience, you make your game more engaging, inclusive, and enjoyable for a wider audience. In the next article, we’ll shift our focus to hardware accessibility, exploring assistive technologies and adaptive gaming equipment. Stay tuned! 😉

Wanna Learn More?

Here are some fantastic resources to dive deeper into accessibility in gaming:

• Microsoft’s Gaming Accessibility Fundamentals Learning Path

• The Game Accessibility Guidelines

• Inclusive Design for a Digital World by Regine Gilbert (Book)

• Giving a Damn About Accessibility (Free Ebook)

• Steve Saylor - TLOF part 2 Accessibility Impressions (YouTube)

Whether you're a seasoned UX designer pivoting into games or a beginner starting from scratch, this guide provides a structured pathway to support you. It's filled with resources for every phase of your journey. So, buckle up and let’s dive in!

1. The First Steps into UX Design

If you're new to UX, building a solid foundation is crucial.

🎓 Courses

• Google UX Design Certificate: A free beginner-friendly course introducing core UX principles. Highly recommended for anyone starting in the field.
  

• Figma Tutorials: Explore Figma’s official tutorials to learn the basics of this versatile tool, useful for everything from UX mockups and flows to high-fidelity prototypes.
  

• Interaction Design Foundation: A great library of online courses for all skill levels, covering UX design and research. They offer discounted student pricing if applicable.

🎯 Practical Exercises

• Daily UI Challenge: A fun way to sharpen your UI skills, you can pair it with Figma to build a portfolio while learning. Even if UI design isn’t your primary goal, some basic knowledge will enhance your skill set and make you familiar with interaction patterns.

📚 Books

• "The Design of Everyday Things" by Don Norman: A timeless classic that introduces fundamental design principles applicable across industries.
  

• "What UX is Really About" by Celia Hodent: A practical guide to the UX mindset, focusing on communicating its value effectively.

🌐 Online Resources

• 8 Must-Read Books for Designers: Check extra recommendations in this post.
  

• UX Design Roadmap by Simonas Maciulis: A curated guide filled with links to tools and resources for UX designers — one of my personal favorites.
  

• Laws of UX:A concise overview of key UX principles like Gestalt laws and heuristics.

2. Transitioning to Games

Shifting to game UX requires understanding how player experience (PX) differs from user experience, aside from the basics of Game Design.

🎓 Courses

• Games UX Foundations: Webinar with Om Tandon made for people who are transitioning from traditional UX to games.
  

• Introduction to Game Design: Offered by CalArts, this course covers foundational game design principles.

🎯 Practical Exercises

• Analyze Games: Study the UX of your favorite games. Break down their parys to understand what makes them special and memorable.

📚 Books

• "The Gamer's Brain" by Celia Hodent: A must-read for understanding how cognitive science principles apply to games. It’s packed with practical examples that bridge UX and PX. You can also find her presentations on YouTube for free, offering a great introduction to her ideas.

🌐 Online Resources

• GDC Vault: Access talks on game UX/UI and game design - Many are free.
  

• Game Maker’s Toolkit: Great channel featuring in-depth videos on game design principles.
  

• Tales from the Couch: Check out my old LinkedIn series for short UX analyses of games, a good example of the practical exercise I’ve just mentioned.

3. Refining Your UX/UI Skills

Enhancing your skills involves deepening your understanding of specific topics and building expertise in tools and techniques.

🎓 Courses

• UI Peeps Bootcamp: A masterclass covering game UI design from concept to creation. Though a big investment, its content and community are excellent for taking you to the next level in UI.
  

• Gaming Accessibility Fundamentals: A free course that covers the basics of designing accessible games and understanding the needs of gamers with disabilities.

🎯 Practical Exercises

• Check Portfolio References: Study how other professionals present their ideas, processes, and final results in their portfolios to later build and refine your own.

📚 Books

• "Games User Research" by Drachen, Mirza-Babaei, and Nacke: A comprehensive guide to user research in the gaming industry, offering methodologies, case studies, and insights to enhance player experiences.
  

• "The Art of Game Design: A Book of Lenses" by Jesse Schell: Covers game design fundamentals, including user engagement, mechanics, and playtesting.
  

• "Game Feel: A Game Designer’s Guide to Virtual Sensation" by Steve Swink: Explores crafting satisfying interactions, a crucial element for bridging UX design with gameplay.

🌐 Online Resources

• Explore a Game Engine: Learn Unity or Unreal Engine to prototype game mechanics and interfaces. Both platforms offer free learning resources on their websites.
  

• UI Vault: A curated collection of UI inspiration and resources.
  

• Game UI Database: A vast library of games for UX/UI references — a goldmine for designers.

By exploring these resources, you’ll be well-equipped for your learning adventure.

These aren’t just generic recommendations — they’ve been invaluable in my own UX journey and continue to help me grow. I hope they’ll serve you well too 😊.