Quick Time Events and the Subconscious

The laugh track. The sound board. The wide-angle lens. As media evolves, it develops new techniques. Either because of advances in technology, or simply because an idea sees great success and becomes a trend. Video games have seen plenty of its own techniques as the time has passed. One of the more divisive techniques of the modern school of gaming is the quick time event.

For the uninitiated, a quick time event (QTE) is a gameplay mechanic in which the game prompts the player to press a specific button to achieve a certain goal. This is different from regular gameplay in that these button-presses are context sensitive. Where the A button normally makes you jump, in a QTE you'll be prompted to press the A button to have your character jump out of the way of a falling rock. QTEs are characterized by being reaction-based and generally trying to give a gameplay translation for a character's instincts.

I can trace the evolution of the quick time event in three landmark games. The first game is Shenmue, released for the Dreamcast in 1999. During the course of the game, main character Ryo Hazuki is put in several situations where he must avoid something, catch something, or give chase to someone. In particular, the chase scenes involved Ryo dodging obstacles and choosing paths. For the cinematic effect, regular gameplay was probably not intricate enough or too awkward. Thus, the scene was depicted as a cutscene with quick time events as input. The scene changed depending on the player's success with the quick time events. Shenmue implemented QTEs so effectively that it put the concept on the map for future games to build on.

The Wii literally shook things up by incorporating motion controls.

The next game in my analysis is Resident Evil 4. Aside from forging new ground in third-person shooter games, I find this game incorporated quick time events not unlike Shenmue. In fact, Resident Evil 4 used them more frequently and in different ways. A cutscene would play for minutes, when all of a sudden the A button would appear onscreen. In the case of Resident Evil 4, failing a QTE would almost always result in a gruesome death for protagonist Leon Kennedy. Perhaps someday I'll revisit the concept of those death scenes in another post. QTEs also appeared in non-scripted situations, such as when an enemy grabbed Leon. This actually is a step up from a Resident Evil 3 mechanic which allowed the player to move in the opposite direction of an enemy and avoid damage. This is shown by having Jill Valentine execute a dodge ability.

The last game that I think leads up to quick time events as they are today is Dead Space. Dead Space, or at least my interpretation of it, is a game that aims to one-up everything about Resident Evil 4. The running and gunning was smoother, the environments were much more immersive, and the death scenes were even gorier. Once again, I'll come back to that sometime. And yes, Dead Space incorporated quick time events in similar ways. In fact, Dead Space took it a step further. Dead Space set up "scripted events" which required QTEs and other context-sensitive actions to progress. For instance, upon entering a certain corridor, the game is programmed to have a large tentacle monster grab Isaac Clarke and drag him to a hole. The player had to shoot the monster's weak point to save Isaac. However, the fixed camera made this difficult.

So what am I getting at here? Games like Dead Space, Resident Evil 4, and Shenmue have a sort of "pace" to playing them. Quick time and scripted events are part of the experience and the brand of these games. There are normalcy and consistency in these mechanics. Well, I've had an experience that told me there's more to this.

Failure scenes have become a separate art form. The new Tomb Raider sure has its share.

We've all had that one dream where something is attacking us and we can't do anything because it's a dream. In my case, I've dreamt that there's literally a snake in the grass in the front yard outside my house. I step into the grass, because it's a dream, the snake prowls around, lunges for me, end dream. I'm not particularly afraid of snakes, I guess I had recently watched or played something with snakes.

Then, one night, my dream changed. Same set-up, but this time when the snake lunged, time seemed to slow down and I saw a prompt for a dodge. The dream followed the prompt and allowed the snake to fall past me. The dream then prompted me to move in for a counter strike. I did, and, well, I can't really pull much more of the dream past that. Either way, waking up from that dream gave a very interesting feeling. My go-to dream for helplessness was completely turned around to be empowering. Because of video games? Because of quick time events?

Like I said before, quick time events are a reaction-based mechanic. They test your reflexes and hand-eye coordination by telling you a button to press and giving you little time to do so. Gamers typically have better association of buttons with functions than they do the labels of the buttons to their positions. I also mentioned how QTEs can be a gameplay translation of instinct. Instinct, which I define in simple terms as "being yourself quickly." That is, react as you would without taking time to revise in your head. It's empowering to know what to do and when. It helps you reaffirm your identity and proudly own it.

Heavy Rain, a PlayStation 3 title, was really ambitious with quick time events.

Video games always depict characters using instinct to save themselves or others from peril. In real life, ideally, peril is not ever-present. However, the opportunity to use our instincts is. For instance, I'm sure at some point in your life someone has approached you and said "hello." What did you do in return? Look at them and stare blankly while you decided between "hi," "hello," "good morning," or just a nod? Probably not. You picked a response and had a conversation. Your brain went through a little quick time event. Sure, nothing was at stake. Life would go on if you had said "apple," but all the same you were prompted and your instinct to greet the person back kicked in.

Saying "hello" isn't exactly the most intense example, but it is a relatable one. Real-life quick time events happen all the time. Some of them occurring in the form of decisions. Ever catch a ball that was flying straight toward you? Good job on that quick time event! Job seekers, have you ever seen a posting on craigslist that you qualify for but said "nah?" That was a quick time event that you willingly didn't respond to. The only difference is you won't come back to that moment to "get it right." This isn't guilt, just fact.

The fact that video game characters can respond to situations so quickly and expertly is why we see them as being strong. They don't second-guess what they're capable of, they just do what they can - or must. We too can be just like them. Sure, we won't be hitting any emergency brakes nor making jumps to safety, but we will be accomplishing commonplace feats that make us great people in our own home. Helping someone grab the milk on the high shelf, taking out the garbage, speaking up to volunteer, speaking up to not go through with something that you're being pressured into. All of these things which you may brush off or not feel "strong" enough to accomplish are more possible than you can imagine. It's not as simple as pushing a button, but it takes just as much effort when you set your mind to it.

Give it a try. See if, in your regular day, you can recognize a quick time event and do what you imagine it's prompting you to do. If you have any relatable experiences with real-life quick time events that you want to share, please post in any of the linked social media. I look forward to seeing responses. Until then, game out.

P.S.

I make quick time events out to be very promising, but in execution they actually have somewhat of a poor track record in gamer culture. See below for a humorous take.

Street Fighter IV and Owning Your Character

There's two things we know about Street Fighter character Guile for sure: His theme goes with anything and his advice to any person is that they "go home and be a family man!" Aside from these very memetic things, I wonder how much about Guile the common internet goer knows? Do they know his actual personality? His back story? His rank in the US air force? I'm sure that people who enjoy studying up on the Street Fighter mythos would know all that.

As for me, I actually did not care much for Guile. It's true. In my younger years, I COULD NOT fathom Guile's moveset. The core of Guile's special moves is the mechanic of holding the joystick in one direction, then quickly moving the other way and using an attack. For the life of me, I could not get that timing down. I guess I rather harbored those frustrated times and continued to overlook Guile for that reason.

In particular, the Flash Kick vexed me. Part of the command was 'up.' As in the same 'up' used in jumping!!

In my recent playing of Super Street Fighter IV: 3D Edition I made it a point to give every character a chance. When I played Guile, all that learned behavior came back. The natural aggression I learned playing Ken, Dudley, Rose, etc. clashed with the campy style that Guile promotes. One of Guile's strategies is to keep in a low blocking position so he can punish impatient opponents. Low block? Come on! This is Street Fighter! I want to go in fireballing and uppercutting! Granted I can now appreciate how intricate the fighting system is and how there IS more to it than quarter-circle-punching my way to victory... my stance on Guile hadn't changed.

In addition, I found Guile to be... well, kind of a jerk. In his win quotes, he tended to be condescending in that 'grown-up' way and put people down after winning over them. I guess that being a soldier, he feels a need to discourage others from combat and fighting and all that. Even so, I wasn't a fan.

A little later, my constant playing of the game lead me to take on a different sort of project. As part of that project, I needed to do a character study of Guile. Mind you, the reason I picked Guile was for his memetic qualities alone. All I really wanted was to get a feel for how he behaved in battle so I can build accurate fight scenes involving him. Naturally, the start of this was rather reluctant.

I got a feel for his martial arts in a narrative sense, but I was left wanting more from the gameplay perspective. Thus, I dedicated some time to practice and study.

In time, I got into it. My advanced gamer reflexes could now pull off the timing necessary for sonic booms and flash kicks. I learned the range of Guile's fierce attacks, doing sweeps to stall and charge a special move, and made it a game within a game to see if I can pull off Guile's Ultra attack, much more actually finish a match with it.

Suddenly, I was hyped for Guile. I was learning while I was mopping up and it was fun. I even took pride in his personal mannerisms like sunglasses, his dedication to his hair, and his occasionally ham-fisted demeanor. Because I lived this character, I internalized more his dedication to his mission and the merits of his patriotism. His attitude towards other fighters still left something to be desired, but I knew more than before that Guile was within his character to say those things. He wasn't particularly condescending... he was just Guile. Rather than accentuate the negative to support my aversion to the character, I looked for all the positive to see. After all, a character that I spent so much time learning can't be all that bad, right?

So... what happened here? I circled around Guile for half my life and didn't give him a second thought. Suddenly I gave him the benefit of a doubt and I'm an overnight family man? Not quite.

See, if Street Fighter came from and stuck to a non-interactive medium, say purely big/small screen franchise, I doubt I could have ever taken a shining to Guile. His no-nonsense personality was too abrasive for me. I would have supported him as a protagonist, but only that far. Expanding on his back story may give me more to judge him by, but the character we have here doesn't change much for it.

The video game angle is what caused this change in outlook. It's one thing to know where a character comes from, but it's another to actually BE that character. Having their skills at your disposal gives you a deeper insight into what it's like to be this character. Of course, we can't experience for ourselves the loss of Charlie or take on the strain of remaining a noble soldier while hatred plays your forced muse.

We CAN, however, slip ourselves into Guile's camo and wield his sonic boom. The more we learn a character and turn to them as an ambassador for the Street Fighter experience, the more influence this character can have on us. Suddenly, we are more sympathetic to Guile's mission. We are right there with him when he grips a fist in agony after a time-out loss. After Guile toasts to a temporary victory, speaking to his friend's tombstone, the word 'amen' may be on the tip of your tongue.

Then again, your experience owning a character in a tournament fighter probably isn't so dramatic or in-depth. At the very least, you'd echo a sound bite or mimic a mannerism when you're feeling particularly proud of a win over a real-life friend.

Movies, TV, books, etc. can do a lot to give you an in-depth look at a character. They can weave words and images, or make the character a consistent part of your life as you follow their journeys. Each medium has an advantage over the other to pull off the same narrative goal. Video games are distinct in that they are capable of saying, "You know what? Here. You take control and see what it's like." It's up to the game from there to use perspective, control, gameplay, scripted events, and much more at its disposal to tell its story.

Of course, not every game is an epic tale or descent into the very soul of its protagonist. Then again, what a game is or isn't depends entirely on the imagination of the gamer.

Portal and Inception

Yes, that Inception. Get out your mammoth horns and spinning tops, because we've got to go deeper. Toss in thinking with portals, and we've got today's topic.

As any Internet cynic will tell you, the term "inception" actually has nothing to do with dreams, much less the act of entering one. In fact, the movie dedicates a whole scene to establishing the true definition of the word. Simply put, inception just refers to the point in which something begins. In the case of the film Inception, this thing is an idea. The goal of the movie is to change a person by planting an idea in their head by going into his dream. The inception of this personality change is the point in which he sees this planted idea.

Are you following me so far? If not, that's okay. All you need to know is that in the movie Inception, the characters manipulated a person by planting an idea in his head without him knowing. When this idea came to his attention, he felt like he came to this idea all on his own. As a result, the idea feels like his own and he has no instinct to resist it. He doesn't feel like he's being told what to do. As I watched this movie and heard these concepts explained, I wondered why this felt so familiar. Naturally, my answer ended up being the same old: video games.

In particular, I thought of Valve's mega-popular and memetic Portal. You see, the goal in a typical game is to present challenges to the player and lead them to overcome those challenges. Therefore, the inception of victory will occur while the game is being played. Portal is a great example because the very structure of the game is to undergo this process of challenge, discovery, execution, and victory over and over and over and over again. Really, I could use any game that involves puzzles or strategy. Portal is just easier to talk about and more well-known.

Your first experience with portals may be disorienting, but you'll get over it quickly.

In Portal, you play the role of a human "test subject" who must solve puzzles. The puzzles are solved when you manage to reach an elevator somewhere in a given room. This elevator is often placed out of reach and locked behind some door. You are armed only with  a portal gun and knowledge of how to use physics to your advantage. This portal gun literally shoots portals that you can set into walls, floor, and ceilings. You can only have two portals out at a time, colored orange and blue, and they only lead to each other. Thus, if you want to go somewhere far away, you can just shoot one portal ahead and one nearby. Walk through the nearby portal and you'll be wherever your further portal ended up.

This is all just the tip of the iceberg for Portal's complexity. However, it's enough information to pursue my topic. You can probably already see how Portal can be clever, even devious, with its puzzle designs. In any given puzzle, you already know all the information you need in order to solve it. Say, for instance, you need to place a block on a button in order to keep a door open. However, the block cannot reach the button. Then you may wonder: Since you can pass through portals, can you carry the block through with you? You can! You drop the block on the button and you're free to the elevator.

These moments of epiphany and triumph are common in Portal. You'll find yourself often saying, "Maybe I can... aha!" All it takes is for you to remember one little thing, try that little thing, and you come off with a great and revitalizing victory. Jane McGonigal refers to that feeling as a "fiero moment." "Fiero" is an Italian word loosely translating to "Pride." I suppose there's a cultural wiggle room there that allows us to define fiero also as a realization of one's own potential. The closest we have in the English language is the concept of not knowing one's own strength. But let's combine this with what we already talked about. You only came to this feeling because the game herded you to that victory by handing you everything you needed to succeed.

So, do we feel "played" by the game and its manipulation of our feelings? Or do we consider that our effort and problem-solving are still worth something? It doesn't help that the tests are overseen by a snarky AI who tries to mess with our head the entire way through. Well, it wouldn't be me if I didn't take the rosier approach. You still had to figure out your situation, you still had to make the most of your abilities, and you still had to execute the problem-solving. Sure, it's a video game, and problem-solving in a video game isn't exactly like real life, but that goes both ways. In real life, you might end up not prepared enough to solve a puzzle. On the other hand, a problem in real life might have several solutions, some of which easier and better for all involved. And to be honest, I'd rather feel prepared and wrong than in over my head and wrong. For all we know, "being prepared" can translate to one's ability to improvise. And you will be shocked at how well anyone can improvise.

The sequel adds even more complexity to the mix.

Now I'll turn it over to all of you. What stories do you have of great success and realization of your potential? This applies for in games and off. Successes outside of games, more importantly. If a success in a game can remind you of a success in real life, well, chalk that up as a game learning experience.

I really do hope that this discussion can help you rediscover something awesome about yourself. There needs to be more awesomeness going around the world. And if it does so happen that this post leads to some great revelation, you can thank inception for that. If you can't tell, I want to make the world a better place, one person at a time, starting with fans of games. If and when I accomplish this positive change, the inception of that change will be you reading these posts and being prompted to think on them. I've probably harmed my chances by admitting to it, but it's all for the sake of another point.

"Performing inception" is a real thing. It might not be as direct as in the film, but it happens any time anyone tries to be persuasive. The key is to be discreet, agreeable, and not have the other party feel like they're being told what to do. Think of one standout time that a game performed inception on you. Further, one time you may have performed inception on someone else. It's more common than you think.

I do apologize for the brevity of this particular post. I really did intend on just talking about Portal and Inception. My mind just goes wherever a deeper topic may present itself. In this case, talking about fiero moments. Look on the bright side, you got two posts today.

A discussion within a discussion.

Tales of the Abyss and Mobile Storytelling

For the last two months of 2012, my Nintendo 3DS was more than just a portable gaming console. It was an interactive movie on the run. It was like a book with gamification tossed into the mix. At any time, I could open my system up and immediately be back in the world of Auldrant; either to train my characters or to advance the storyline happening within.

This may sound melodramatic, but it is accurate to how I felt about the game. So what did I do special that gave me such an in-depth experience? Nothing, really. I just carried my 3DS around and played the game whenever I was otherwise indisposed. I suppose it was just the fact that the game being so close to me physically allowed me to feel close to the game in a figurative way.

What I experienced with Tales of the Abyss is called "immersion." Immersion is somewhat of a buzzword in the gaming community that may have lost a little meaning because of how often it's tossed around. Immersion is the phenomenon of being so focused on something that you lose awareness of the world around you. I was immersed in Tales of the Abyss, and not necessarily only when I was playing the game. It sort of stuck to me as I went about my day. I would be thinking about the game's storyline or planning ahead which abilities I wanted my characters to learn next. If ever I had a moment, I could just dive right in and either push towards the next plot point or change my team around.

You see, Tales of the Abyss is a Japanese Role Playing Game. JRPGs tend to pack a lot of story content. Since I had that story content literally in my pocket, my book analogy is appropriate. Let's say that I played Tales of the Abyss on a home console. I would be setting aside time to play it and probably in long sessions. Because I played it mobile, I only played small bits of it at a time in situations where I didn't necessarily set out to play it. Rather than think of my ToA sessions as dedicated "game time," ToA was instead interwoven into my day. My routine. My life, even.

It doesn't hurt that the game itself is really good. The storyline takes place in a typical medieval fantasy setting, the world of Auldrant. The people follow a religious organization called the Order of Lorelei and live their lives according to a scripture called the Score. You follow the main character, bratty aristocrat Luke Fon Fabre, as he is wrenched from his life of luxury and sent on a fantastic quest to save the world. The game world is just full of interesting locations, the plot twists and turns to avoid being predictable, and the characters evolve in rewarding ways.

This crew will become family. Mark my words.

This stellar presentation is backed with very engaging gameplay. Most of the game takes place in 3D environments that you can run around and explore, but fighting takes place on specialized 3D planes. Combat in ToA is a mix between old-school RPG and fighting games. If you know what that means, you should be at least a little curious. If you don't, just rest assured that combat is fast, has a learning curve, and can be very rewarding when you do well. Your characters gain stats, learn new abilities, and develop the more you play.

Between the storyline and the game content itself, I could be sure that whenever I came back to the game, what I played would be rewarding. By the time I was watching the final scene of the game, I had built up enough investment in the game that I could fully appreciate the events of the game's climax. Once the credits were done and I could fully turn the game off, I just had a moment where I sat back and realized to myself, "It's actually over." I came to the realization that I didn't have Tales of the Abyss to come to for more adventure and training. I wasn't addicted, that game had just been such a consistent part of my days that not having it would take some getting used to.

This, my friends, is why I know that complex mobile games are here to stay. My creativity and zeal for life were kept at steady levels because of the fun and intrigue this game injected into my days. Games can be therapeutic in different ways for different people. The consistent quality of Tales of the Abyss is how it was therapeutic for me. Just having fun and satisfying gaming experiences peppered through my day kept me feeling fresh and chipper.

With an introduction movie this good, you know you're in for a good time.

And now, I want you to think about games which have had these effects on you. A game which you got completely immersed in. A game which helps you relax. A game which gets you fired up for the rest of your day. A game that didn't feel like "a game" when you played it. Remember that zen you feel when you're playing the game. Perhaps you'd prefer to call it "being in the zone." Either way, that feeling is great. If we could bottle that feeling and call upon it whenever we wanted, we would all be much happier with our lives and much more emotionally prepared for whatever may come.

If something comes to mind, feel free to share it in the comments below. Perhaps you'd like to ping me on Twitter, PM on tumblr, or mention on Facebook. I'm available on all social media and will be all too happy to feature your idea. I want to start discussions, not just have them with myself.

I also think I'll be settling into a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule with this blog. Perhaps I'll bring in other articles from around the web to feature on my off-days. Either way, I'm on a roll so you can expect another post by the end of the week. Until then, game out.

Super Mario 3D Land and Taking off the Training Wheels

I love the heck out of Super Mario 3D Land for the Nintendo 3DS. One of my friends, however, begs to differ. In a conversation some time back, she says that the game focused too much on one of its features and came out weaker because of it.

The feature in question is the game's "Tanooki Suit" power-up. Simply put, the Tanooki Suit's main function allows Mario to hover in air and generally be much more maneuverable when jumping. Since jumping between platforms is the backbone of the game, having this power-up clearly makes things tons easier.

After that conversation, I knew what I had to do. I created a new file in Super Mario 3D Land and set out to play through the game with one stipulation: Never use the Tanooki Suit. This way I can compare the impact of suit versus no suit.

My friends, this game is amazing when you don't use the Tanooki Suit. The stages are tougher to navigate, more careful jumping is necessary, and you even get to explore more of what the game has to offer.

First and most obvious, the game was more difficult. If I missed a jump over a pit, I couldn't just scramble my way back to try again. It was down into the pit with me. If my jump landed me in front of an enemy, that was my problem to deal with. And I loved it. It was practically a whole new game now that all the circumstances had been changed.  I adjusted my play style to account for a lack of a "get out of trouble free" card and was happily on my way.

Secondly, I came to appreciate the game's other power-ups. Despite the game emphasizing the Tanooki Suit so hard, it contained two other power-ups: the fire flower and the boomerang flower. These power-ups give Mario the ability to launch fireballs or use boomerangs to damage enemies. Boomerangs can even collect coins wherever it goes. However, these items offer no mobility upgrades, so they were booby prizes compared to the Tanooki Suit. In fact, I distinctly remember in my first play through going out of my way to avoid these power-ups. I only used the Tanooki Suit with another one in reserve.

See the shadow, the goomba, the tail in the title? It's everywhere, man.

Now that the "default" power-up was no longer in the picture, I was free to make use of the other two. This also added to the fun factor since I had more choices in how to defeat enemies. I could just clear the path from afar, pull some impressive shots by bouncing the fireballs off of walls, or safely defeat bosses by having my projectiles to the work. I could even carry the other item in reserve just in case I wanted to switch up the play style. I also got less upset when I took a hit and lost the power-up. I still had my core abilities and the way I moved stayed the same. In some cases, I would value the extra hit over the actual abilities of the power-up.

Thirdly, there is just more fun to be had when the game isn't too easy. I was amazed at how the game engaged me. Before, I could just float through - in some ways literally - without much challenge breaking my stride. Now I just had my skill, wits, and reaction time; all of which improved to adjust. For instance, I had to jump from a rotating block to reach a collectible item. The window for making this jump was tiny. I had to wait for the platform to rotate into the optimal position and still jump at the very furthest I could to get the most height and distance. I must had stayed at that point for at least half an hour straight, jumping, falling, coming up short, and having to traverse the whole stage again just for another shot. Finally, one particularly focused jump saw Mario perch himself on top of the flag pole. I earned a 1-up and a golden flag. I thought I had passed out and was dreaming. It probably was the most rewarding thing I had done in a video game in a long time.

If I were using the Tanooki Suit, I could have made the jump with a half-hearted effort on the first try. There also is an alternate way to make the jump much easier, but that would have had to wait way later in the game.

At this point, this post probably closely resembles the previous one, trumpeting the praises of the self-imposed challenge. And that is true that it's similar. In this case, rather than add more challenge to build a new skill, we are instead avoiding the path of least resistance to enrich the experience. I'd instead say that the game was built around Mario's default jumping abilities. Using the Tanooki Suit is more akin to an "easy mode" than the default.

I can now see where my friend's frustration comes in. The game wasn't necessarily middling to easy, it actually is pretty well crafted. However, it came bundled with Nintendo's PR move to put the Tanooki Suit front and center for the throwback effect. If only there were an Options menu button that could remove the Tanooki suit, or some method of bringing to peoples' attentions the possibility of playing the game in such a way. I count one single collectible that absolutely required the Tanooki suit to obtain. Otherwise, you could play through the game, as-is, and complete every objective. To prove my point, here's someone beating the game's toughest level without use of the Tanooki Suit.

This whole thing got me thinking on how we use inhibitors in our everyday life to make things more comfortable. These range from physical assistance such as escalators to mental and emotional processes that lead us away from the strain of thinking for ourselves. Go ahead. Try and find at least one thing you "use" in your life that makes it easier but duller. Do you think you could carry on without that thing for a little bit? I'd like to see you try. Others would probably like to see you try. Most importantly, I'd wager that you would like to see you try.

Rock Band and Rising to Challenges

A while back I attended a birthday party. One of the activities going on in that party was a game of Rock Band. I spectated, one thing lead to another, and I ended up with a guitar. I have not extensively played Rock Band or Guitar Hero or anything like that. I get the concept and know the controls, but I've never really gotten into any of it. I figured hey, it would be good for a bit of fun.

I was instructed to play Bass on Easy or Medium. Since I was among a rowdy bunch on a birthday night, I knew it had to be Medium. After all, people were showing off on the drums so I figured I'd help feed into that sense of bravado.

For the uninitiated, most guitar games work by having you flick a switch with one hand while holding down one or more colored buttons with your other hand. You can press the colored buttons all you want as long as you have the right one pressed and you strum as prompted by the game.

When I first got up there, I had my fingers on each button and figured my hand-eye coordination was good enough to use all four digits when necessary. It worked out just fine at first, but as the song got faster and more complicated, a sense of panic set in. I found myself abandoning use of my pinkie because I was the most confident in my middle three.

This lent itself to some problems. With four buttons and three fingers, I was okay until the game called for the button I was not covering. I had to quickly adjust my grip to cover the three buttons that included the one I wasn't before. As a result, I kept on bumping from one end to the other, covering either the first three buttons or the last three. I did well enough, coming out with 90% or over, but I still desired more out of my performance. This shifting didn't feel right.

People, I have noticed, have varying reactions to challenge. On one end, people can lock up or self-sabotage in the face of challenge. This way, they take all the unknown out of a situation and ensure failure. All pressure is off and the person in question can just coast into the inevitable.

On the other end, a person may see a challenge and shed their inhibitions. Not ALL inhibitions, just the ones related to completing said challenge. When that happens, the person focuses not on the results of attempting the challenge but rather the actual process of making that attempt. And if all you're thinking about is what you have to do, you won't be hung up on any what-ifs since that would thinking too far forward.

In my case, the first few songs gave me enough practice to develop muscle memory. Said muscle memory was like a fun new tool for me to use in my quest for Rock Band stardom. I wanted to use and improve on this muscle memory so I could keep getting those warm feelings of intuitive play. The actual play became more important to me than whatever results I came away with. And wouldn't you know it, my performance improved anyway.

Once I was comfortable with the Rock Band flow, I was able to bring my pinkie back into the game. I now had full coverage of all the buttons. I no longer had to choke up and down on the guitar and remember where my fingers were now positioned. I could just press down and be done with it. I finally felt like I was doing it right. I had fun, even when I tried a few on Hard mode and utterly tanked.

It felt really good to challenge myself, rise to that challenge, and come off more skilled and confident because of doing so. This rings true to everyone. We have all been challenged by games and overcome them by wanting it enough. We learn what we're up against, we understand what we have at our disposal, and we really apply ourselves to combine our capability and our knowledge to come out on top.

Now how great would it be if we could call on that determination and give such an effort for other things in life? I'm talking about the job seeker, the promotion-earner, the would-be romantic, the test-taker, prospective parent. You might think it isn't the same since video games are programmed for success to be a viable outcome. Well, I'm here to say that real life isn't that much different. Succeeding outside of a video game similarly requires you to assess what you can do and to be honest about the challenge you face. Understanding what you're up against and seeing yourself rise to face it is a universal concept, not just for gaming.

That said, I now leave it all on you. The next time you see a challenge in your way, putting on your game face just give you the drive and motivation to see it through.