Virtual reality needs real writers

There's an interesting video from gametheoryonline.com currently doing the rounds on Twitter about the role of writing in video games. There's no real news here – except that this is a good, thought-provoking video. Indeed, the main stab at headline creation in the film is the one part that I didn't find convincing: an attempt to suggest that we're having a renaissance in storytelling in videogames. Of course, that might be right and I'd be glad to hear about any games that do support this idea – but next to no evidence is produced in the film itself.

What the film does do well is give a coherent overview of the perennial problem of why writers have so far failed to make the most of videogames. And why, as the industry expert John Walker puts it, "gaming is seemingly still years away from its 1984, its Slaughterhouse-Five, its Annie Hall."

On the face of it, you might think that this relatively new, rapidly developing art form would be exciting and fertile territory for authors. There's scope for experimentation in the ability to, say, explore multiple narrative strands, to make mistakes and start again, to work in puzzles. There's also the surely attractive chance to encounter the kind of predominantly young male demographic that traditional book publishers have such trouble reaching. And, of course, there's the oodles of cash you stand to make if you can just keep hold of the rights.

Yet while writers such as F Scott Fitzgerald, Raymond Chandler and PG Wodehouse headed for California when Hollywood was at a similar stage in its development, it's hard to imagine any big names in contemporary fiction getting involved in computers. What's more, the professional Hollywood screenwriters themselves have failed to get in on the action. Admittedly, there are headlines every so often suggesting that the opposite is true – but most are typical of the last occasion when it turned out that the only person to make the transition was Chris Morgan, the brains behind The Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift – not a film noted for its sparkling dialogue. Or anything else.

So why do so few writers from other mediums take on gaming? And why is most of the writing in computer games – as even the ardent gameheads in the Game Theory Online film say openly – so bad? Part of the problem is clearly to do with priorities. As the game writer and former critic Rhianna Pratchett says in the film: "Story is often the last thing thought about and the first thing pulled apart." So much effort goes into making spectacular worlds, tackling the technical logistics and ensuring the playing experience is enjoyable that decent plot and dialogue fall by the wayside.

Yet there are trickier issues involved. As a few people say in the film, gaming presents a unique challenge in terms of linear narrative. Or rather, the general lack of it. All the variant paths and possibilities relating to moving through a game offer plenty of potential for creativity – but thinking about wrapping it all together is so brain-ache-making and frequently needs such mathematical precision that it's small wonder game writers are less able to concentrate on things such as dialogue. There's also the continuing problem of working that dialogue properly into the game narrative. At the moment, even the most innovative and otherwise thoroughly entertaining games such as the Grand Theft Auto series rely on cut scenes that interrupt the action. Invariably, the dialogue is an annoyance getting in the way of the action rather than the thing that drives it.

There's also an even trickier challenge at the heart of most games: the writer has a fundamental lack of control. Things get complicated when the protagonist is the person sitting on the other side of the screen. As Bob Bates from Legend Entertainment neatly puts it on the film, you may want your lead to be a gentle soul, but if the person playing the game is more keen on killing kittens, there isn't much you can do about it.

Of course, such interactivity has the potential to be meaningful and exhilarating. But it's clearly going to take a particular kind of genius – or, more likely, a collective of them – to produce a game that has a narrative and related apparatus that impress as much as all the other elements. Even so, there's scope for improvement. Surely those who maintain that quality gaming has the potential to be one of the major art forms of the early 21st century (with whom I agree, on the whole) should be demanding better dialogue? I also can't help wishing that more novelists would get involved. China Mieville and Joe R Lansdale could work on the setting. Paul Auster could handle the mind games – with Thomas Pynchon. Jonathan Franzen and Salman Rushdie could write jokes. Bret Easton Ellis could add the violence. Martin Amis could … Well, maybe it wouldn't work. Although do let me know if you have any better ideas.