This post contains information about the story or gameplay of The Beginner's Guide, which may include details about the end game, which will almost certainly spoil the experience if you have yet to play.
For this reason, I strongly urge you consider playing for yourself before you continue.
Dear friend
Have you ever played The Beginner's Guide? It's remarkable. It's emotionally gut-wrenching and one of the most relatable stories I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
The game starts off pretty strangely. You load into a white screen with the narrator Davey Wreden (writer of The Stanley Parable) seemingly introducing you to a Counter-Strike level made by a friend his named Coda.
Now, here's a quick rundown of my interpretation: Davey Wreden is portraying a caricature of himself, who happens to share the same name - and I believe that Coda is a part of him. In fact, he already revealed the game to be a work of fiction. However, I don't feel like this should devalue the experience. The story told in this game, regardless of its authenticity, is powerful and emotional and it connected with me in a way no other game has.
Anyways, for this reason, I will now refer to Davey Wreden who you hear in the game as “the narrator”, and Davey Wreden the flesh and blood human being by his actual name.
Davey is an inspiration to me. The Stanley Parable was the work of his that made me want to add easter eggs to anything I make. In fact, I've gone so far as to create a whole Stanley Parable parody of sorts. Which sounds weird, seeing as The Stanley Parable is itself a parody of every game ever created, but since when has such absurdity ever stopped me in anything before?
And The Beginner's Guide? Well… It tells a story that deeply resonates in me. But not quite in the same way that it does most people. Let me explain.
The narrative that the narrator wants us to accept is that Coda is deeply depressed, and that it shows in the works that he creates. The narrative that this person is slowly unraveling and becoming more and more desparate as time goes by, trying to reach out and speak to someone. Anyone. I think a lot of us can connect with that on some level.
But then, you hit the endgame: it's revealed that Coda was in fact not depressed. See, he sent a message to the narrator which reads “struggling to come up with ideas is not making me depressed, low points are just a part of the process”. And another that reads “the fact you think I am broken says more about you than about me”. Which hits you hard - because now instead of empathising with this mysterious person named Coda, you begin to question everything the narrator has told you and you're sent into this deep sense of regret for playing the works of Coda without his permission. You start to resent the narrator for misleading you, forcing an idea that he had about someone into your head. You didn't get to know Coda, not really. You got to know this false perception of him, as portrayed by the narrator.
But that's not what resonated with me. What hit me is - and it should come as no surprise - the narrator is someone who craves validation and approval from people. That's what hit me. If anything, I connected with the narrator more than with Coda. I am someone who seeks validation, who seeks approval, desparately trying to hear from people that I am good and that my work is good and that I'm on the right track. I've seen quite a few things starring Davey, and I don't think it's out of the question to say that the same applies to the real life Davey and not just the narrator. And that, I think, is why it struck me so hard. It wasn't a forced narrative, it's something real and it's something I personally understand. I wasn't angry at the narrator, I felt sorry for him, because I've been where he is. I've walked the road of seeking validation, showing people things I've done and made just to hear that I am good. That my work is good.
I don't know why, but this powerful experience truly inspired me. It motivated me. Since playing it, I've done game-dev work non-stop every single day. I've had a creative burst I've not had in a very long time and I am so glad that I can pour my energy into something that means something to me. Something I can be proud of. Something I can look back to, play, and relive the experience as I felt as I was making it. I decided to pretend I was brand new to game dev. Build up a portfolio from scratch. So I started with Pong. Nice and easy, got it done in about 2-3 days. Piece of cake.
Then I was challenged to make Pac-Man. And oh boy I could go on a rant about that for at least an hour, let me tell you. It's a good thing I'm not actually brand new to game dev because trust me - Pac-Man is not at all easy. It's deceptively simple. You think you know how it works and then you read technical journals and design documents and the code itself, and realise that a lot more work goes into it than meets the eye. Oh god I swear, it took a week just to get ghosts to move properly! Shit's HARD, man.
Anyway. Pac-Man is nearing completion. I'll soon release it, and then I have another project lined up. This creative energy isn't going away and you know what? I'm glad. I'm taking advantage of it while I can, and I'm going to continue to pour my heart and soul into something I have always loved to do yet failed to do. Making games.
It's funny. I revisited The Beginner's Guide recently, and I can honestly tell you the emotions it sends me on are no different to the first time I played it (Save for the ending. You only get that shock-reaction once.) But the rest of the game has me experience these highs and lows for the whole way, every single damn time. Not just for Coda, but also for the narrator.
And also for Davey.
Davey, and his work, is a huge inspiration to me.