A Question of Style

From Styleguide

When it comes to presenting a consistent vocabulary and style, videogame journalism is sloppy at best. At worst, it's a complete mess.

How much of a mess is it?

Consider the term Xbox. When reproducing this seemingly simple product name in print, a writer is faced with many different stylistic decisions, including:

• Whether or not to capitalize the first "X"
• Whether or not to capitalize the "B"
• Whether or not to capitalize the entire term
• Whether or not to place a hyphen between the "X" and the "B"
• Whether or not to insert a space between the the "X" and the "B"

Considering these quandaries alone, a writer is looking at about 15 different ways of writing the name of Microsoft's first console. This doesn't count totally wacky capitalizations, unnecessary "scare quotes" around the name and the question of whether or not to precede it with the word "Microsoft." (And, if so, whether to do this only on the first reference or each and every time…) Unfortunately, I can assure you all of these different forms have been used by innocent journalists who were either unaware or uninformed.

I've been writing about videogames in one form or another for nearly 10 years now, and reading about them for almost twice as long. However, it took some college journalism courses and exposure to The Associated Press (AP) Stylebook to make videogame journalism's inconsistencies come to light for me. The AP Stylebook, for those not in the know, is designed to arbitrate the nitpicky arguments about the proper utilization of the written word (such as Presidents Day vs. President's Day vs. Presidents' Day). It was The AP Stylebook that made me start to take a more critical look at the words that fill up videogame magazines and websites.

Things that once seemed like minor quibbles (for example, the fact that "console" and "system" were always used interchangeably) started to get under my skin. I began to wince while reading my favorite magazines. I remember finding a review in which "Xbox" was spelled three different ways in the very same paragraph.

These sorts of inconsistencies are all too commonplace in videogame journalism. From the most respected magazines to the most obscure websites, from enthusiast periodicals to consumer publications, these editorial gaffes abound.

So where does a good videogame journalist turn?

The AP Stylebook features separate sections for business, sports and Internet journalism, but is of little use for videogame-specific issues of style. Wired Style includes a few videogame terms, but it can't tell you when to use "power-up" and when to use "item" instead.

The bottom line: If we as journalists specializing in computer and videogames ever want to see these questions answered, we're going to have to answer them ourselves.

I imagine some of you are thinking, "Lighten up! It's just videogames. Punctuation and grammar are for squares. Who cares how to capitalize Xbox – the reader will know what you mean! Take two Xanax and call me in the morning!"

So why bother with all of this? I'll tell you why:

A consistent style helps engender trust from readers, and, on a larger scale, lend legitimacy to our industry.

Imagine this: An average, well-educated videogame player, one who has never read a game magazine, wants to browse a few reviews of recent releases. He/she reads one publication that says the game has great "cut scenes," then spies another outlet that claims the disc's "FMVs" are excellent. A third publication praises the title's "cinematics."

Sure, the reader can probably use contextual clues to infer that all three articles are essentially saying the exact same thing. However, this inconsistency makes these stories harder to parse for a non-specialist reader. What's more, the reader might also stop to wonder why it is that three different publications, each supposedly penned by industry experts, can't agree on a name for the short animated movies interspersed throughout most of today's games.

Over the years, avid gamers have developed a sort of organic shorthand that is perfectly clear to them but perfectly incomprehensible to a mainstream audience. This jargon is standing in the way of mainstream understanding and acceptance of videogames, and we've noted it as such in this guide.

However you slice it, having an inconsistent style is embarrassing and detrimental to the cause of our beloved industry. Addressing these issues will inevitably build trust and respect for both our art and the emerging field of gaming as a whole.

It's educational.

What was the world's first videogame? If you guessed PONG, you guessed wrong. Even those familiar with gaming history tend to accidentally overlook more correct answers such as Computer Space or Willy Higinbotham's venerable Tennis for Two.

But if those same people were to go on record in a major news publication stating that PONG was the industry's true progenitor, the publication would no doubt receive sacks of angry mail from well-read enthusiasts. (Not to mention disapproving glances from the copy desk and angry phone calls from upper management.) This style guide is also a reference manual of industry facts and trivia for the benefit of the busy writer or editor.

It's important to preserving videogame history.

In 50 years, if someone looks back at an article that references "SMB," they may well wonder if the author is referring to Super Mario Bros., Super Monkey Ball, the fictitious Sega Marketing Board, or countless other terms with the same acronym. Unless properly annotated, another information seeker might potentially confuse 1989 best-seller Prince of Persia with its 2003 remake, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, merely because an author forgot to reference the subtitle. A standardized method for referring to definitive games and terms is essential to keeping a clear and comprehensive historical record of this growing medium.

It's a reflection of the industry's current state.

Has our industry evolved from its component parts of "video" and "game" to become "videogame," a one-word cultural idiom unto itself? What about "interactive entertainment?" Is the term "man" – as in "eat the mushroom to gain an extra man" – sexist? How are "life" and "death" defined in a videogame? Is "karaoke simulation" its own genre? As the industry evolves, these and other questions about self-perception deserve consideration and meaningful attempts at answers.

Finally, with the proliferation of the Internet, it's more important than ever to hold all videogame writers – yes, even FAQ writers – to a higher standard.

With website message boards that drip with egregious violations of the English language and videogame FAQs that practically require a translator, flaunting one's ignorance is dangerously close to becoming fashionable on the Internet. Writing well, even in informal forums like Internet message boards, should be celebrated and valued.

Bearing all of this in mind, we have one more principle to add: This guide is by no means written in stone. As the title implies, this volume is simply a suggested guide to navigating previously uncharted waters. No rule featured here is without exception, and we don't expect readers to agree with all our decisions. The guide will continue to be updated, both online and in print, with regular updates and revisions that reflect the latest trends in this ever-changing industry.We welcome your comments and suggestions at IGJA.org and authors@gamestyleguide.com.

In the grand scheme of things, the correct spelling of Xevious won't permanently change anyone's life. However, good, sound writing with simple, sturdy sentences, no "l33t speak" and proper punctuation is the quickest and easiest way to communicate ideas, find the widest possible audience and become successful in this business.

— Kyle Orland