You're sitting in the weekly story meeting when the creative director says, "I think we need to revisit the emotional arc for this character."
Everyone nods. The lead designer chimes in with, "Yeah, it's not quite landing." More nods around the table.
You glance at your notes. Emotional arc? Last week, they said the character was "compelling" and "exactly what we needed." The dialogue tested well with focus groups. Players responded positively to the personality. What changed?
You ask for clarification. The creative director pauses, then says, "It's just... we need something that feels more authentic to the player experience, you know?"
The meeting moves on. You're left sitting there wondering what the hell just happened and what you're supposed to do about it.
If this sounds familiar, welcome to the club.
Here's what's up when it comes to game writing: studios don't just want writers who can write. They want writers who can navigate all the weird social dynamics, feedback systems, and unspoken pecking orders that determine how games get made.
After 20 years working as a game writer on projects from the original BioShock to Hogwarts Legacy, I've watched so many talented writers crash into the same walls. They can create great characters and write dialogue that sings, but they get tripped up by all the unspoken professional stuff that no one bothers to explain.
Today I'm sharing the collaboration realities that separate writers who thrive from those who burn out—the professional skills that studios expect but never actually teach.
Why Don’t Studios Teach This Stuff?
When hiring managers say they want "experienced" writers, they're not just talking about shipped titles. They want writers who already know how to work within the messy, complex what-the-hell-is-going-on reality of game development without causing (even more) friction or drama.
These are the things they assume you somehow already know:
- How to decipher diplomatic corporate-speak, so that you know what they REALLY meant
- When to advocate for your creative vision vs. when to agree to changes
- How to figure out who actually makes decisions (spoiler: it's often not who you think)
- How to build relationships with designers, programmers, and producers whose brains work very differently from most writers' brains
The problem? Studio consolidation killed most of the mentorship opportunities where writers used to learn this stuff. Senior writers are stretched thin across massive projects, junior writers work remotely with minimal guidance, and the "learning by watching" that happened in smaller studios has mostly disappeared.
This means there are a whole bunch of talented writers out there who can do the work, but struggle to turn those skills into stable careers because they're not showing studios they have these OTHER skills, too.
So let's look at these skills, one at a time.
Skill #1: Deciphering The Gobbledygook Of Studio Feedback
(This is where a secret decoder ring would come in handy.)
Game development feedback almost never comes as straight criticism. Instead, it's wrapped in layers of diplomatic language that you need to translate. This ability to hear "the message beneath the message" is the key to implementing changes - and not accidentally pissing people off.
When they say: "This is interesting, but I wonder if we might explore some alternatives."
They actually mean: "This doesn't work, try again."
Your move: "I'd love to try some alternatives. Can you help me understand what specific parts aren't working so I can fix them?"
When they say: "The stakeholders had some thoughts about the emotional arc."
They actually mean: "Someone important has concerns and we need big changes."
Your move: "I want to make sure I understand what they're looking for. Is there a way to get more specific guidance on their concerns?"
When they say: "This dialogue feels a bit heavy for this moment."
They actually mean: "This is messing with the gameplay flow."
Your move: "I see what you mean about the pacing. Let me find ways to get this information across more efficiently - maybe without any words at all."
The 24-Hour Rule That Makes You Look Like A Total Pro
Here's something that's easy to do and that dramatically improves how people see you:
When you get feedback, respond within 24 hours with your plan for addressing it, even if you haven't finished the actual revisions yet.
Include:
- The specific feedback you heard
- Your understanding of what the real issue is
- When you'll have revisions ready
- Any questions you need clarified so that you can give them what they want
This one habit shows you're professional and can keep projects moving—and that's something every producer notices.
When "That's Interesting" Means "Oh Hell No"
In game development, "interesting" is often polite code for "this is a problem." Learning to recognize these diplomatic signals saves you from wasting time on directions that have already been politely rejected.
Other warning phrases:
- "Unique approach" = this is weird in a bad way
- "Bold choice" = too risky, won't get approved
- "We'll definitely keep this in mind" = no, we won't
- "Let's explore this further" = maybe, but probably not
Your job is to respond to what they are actually saying, not the polite wrapper they are using to deliver the message. Ask questions that help you understand, suggest different options, and show them that you can be flexible - and still deliver quality work.
Skill #2: You've Gotta Know When to Hold ‘Em, Know When to Fold ‘Em
When do you fight for your ideas? When do you agree to changes? The key to figuring out this balancing act is learning to see the invisible hierarchy that drives creative decisions. This pecking order rarely matches the org chart, and misreading it can seriously damage your reputation.
Pick Your Battles Carefully
Some things are essential for the story; other things are not. Here's a short sample list of what matters, and what doesn't.
High-stakes decisions worth fighting for:
- Core story elements that significantly make the player experience worse
- Character consistency issues that would break the logic of the story
- Dialogue that defies established lore
- Changes requiring massive rewrites across multiple systems
Low-stakes decisions that just don't matter much:
- Word choice preferences that don't change meaning
- Style changes that the team prefers, for whatever reason
- Structural adjustments that help gameplay integration
- Deadline-driven simplifications that still keep the story on track
Look For Your Studio's Heat Map
Creative directors and lead designers often have final say over narrative direction, even when they're not officially above narrative leads on the org chart. Producers frequently have veto power over anything affecting the schedule or resources. Understanding who actually controls creative decisions—versus who's listed as your manager—is information you HAVE to have, to advocate successfully for your work.
Three Questions To Ask Before You Push Back
- Does this significantly impact the player's experience or the narrative fundamentals? If the answer is No, then say Sure.
- Do I have a solution that addresses their underlying concern? If you push back, push back with a solution. Pushing back without alternatives makes you look like a complainer, not a collaborator.
- Is this worth fighting over? Your influence is finite. Please don't waste it on small changes. Save it for when major story elements are at stake.
How to Propose Alternatives Without Looking Stubborn
When you do decide to stand your ground, don't just dig in your heels. Frame it as collaborative problem-solving:
Instead of: "I disagree with this feedback. The character wouldn't say that."
Try: "I see your point about this moment. What if we have the character [alternative approach] instead? I think that would solve the pacing issue you mentioned."
This shows the team you are open to feedback, you share the team's goals, and you can think strategically—exactly what studios want.
Skill #3: Understanding How Game Studios Actually Make Decisions
Game studios have two organizational structures: the official hierarchy on paper and the actual soft-power network that determines creative decisions. Success requires understanding both.
The official hierarchy tells you who to copy on emails. The influence network tells you whose opinion shapes your project's creative direction.
The truth is out there; you just have to look for it.
Power-Center Clues to Watch For:
- Who does the creative director visit for casual chats?
- Whose suggestions get implemented without long discussions?
- Who gets included in "just checking" emails about major decisions?
- Whose concerns immediately shift project priorities?
The Producer Reality
Producers often have significant decision-making power over narrative elements, even when they're not creatively trained. This happens because they control schedules, resources, and stakeholder communication. Take the time to build strong relationships with your producers: you need them to be your allies.
Who Really Has Final Say (Spoiler: It's Complicated)
In many studios, creative decisions flow through networks that don't match the org chart:
Technical constraints often override creative preferences. If the lead programmer says something can't be implemented by launch, that's the end of the discussion - no matter how good your ideas are.
(Have sympathy for the programmers on your team - their jobs are insanely hard.)
Marketing considerations increasingly influence narrative decisions. The marketing team's interpretation of "what sells" can veto story directions that don't align with promotional strategies.
(The marketing department tells the "story of the game" to the audience months before your work gets in front of them. They are your fellow storytellers - involve them! Share your story docs, take them out for coffee, find out what games they play. They know your audience better than anybody, except the QA department. More on that in a minute.)
Platform requirements can force narrative changes. Console certification, age ratings, and platform-specific features all create non-negotiable constraints.
Understanding these realities helps you come up with solutions that will work - even in our crazy, imperfect world.
How To Read the Room
Pay attention in your next meeting. Power dynamics are right there on full display. Can you spot the gorilla(s)?
Power indicators:
- Who speaks first when controversial topics arise
- Whose questions change the conversation direction
- Who gets interrupted vs. who interrupts others
- Whose concerns get addressed immediately vs. tabled
How to participate productively, even when you're not the gorilla in the room:
- Ask clarifying questions rather than making statements - you're there to learn
- Propose solutions addressing multiple stakeholders' concerns - show them you're a team player
- Reference technical or resource constraints when suggesting alternatives - let them know you're aware of the bigger picture (and if you're not sure, ask for clarification)
- Build on others' ideas rather than contradicting directly - use the improv approach of "Yes! And..."
The people in charge at your studio are under A LOT of pressure. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Gorillas need love and support, just like the rest of us! Cute gorillas.
Skill #4: Finding Your Allies (They're Hiding In Plain Sight)
Writers often focus on relationships within the narrative team, but your most valuable career allies are often in other departments. These cross-departmental relationships provide creative opportunities, project insights, and career advancement that narrative silos can't.
Level Designers Are Storytelling Goldmines
They know which environments players spend the most time in, what they pay attention to, and what environmental storytelling opportunities are available. Friendships with level designers lead to collaborations that make your story AND their level look good.
Gameplay Programmers Know What's Actually Possible
They know what's technically feasible and what's completely insane. When you need to pitch narrative features requiring technical implementation, having a programmer ally who can help you understand effort and costs makes your proposals much more likely to be approved.
The Producer Relationship Can Make or Break You
Producers control scheduling, resource allocation, and stakeholder communication—all directly impacting your ability to deliver quality work.
What producers need from writers:
- Realistic time estimates for writing tasks (don't tell them what you think they want to hear; tell them how long things will really take)
- Early warning about potential scope changes
- Clear communication about dependencies
- Flexibility when technical issues require narrative adjustments
How to build strong producer relationships:
- Give estimates that include buffer time for revisions - you want to ALWAYS deliver on time!
- Make them aware of potential issues before they become crises. If your dog is sick, and you may have to miss a few days of work, tell them sooner rather than later so that they can make contingency plans. Producers hate surprises.
- When you pitch story solutions, do it with schedule and resource constraints in mind. The producer's job is to worry about time and money - and projects are always running out of both.
- Understand that "no" to your creative request is not a personal attack on your work—it's just business - they have to consider lots of factors, including some you may not be aware of.
When producers can see that you're a trustworthy professional, it's way more likely that they'll become advocates for narrative priorities in budget and schedule meetings - meetings that rarely have a writer's ally in the room.
Say Hello To Your New Best Friends: The QA Department
If you want to know how players will see your work, ask your QA testers. They experience your work in the game, just like players will. They can give you priceless feedback about how your writing lands (or doesn't land) within the overall experience.
Sample QA insights that could improve your work:
- Which dialogue lines do players skip or ignore?
- Where is the story getting in the way of the game? (Or vice versa?)
- How does your writing land with players who have different playstyles?
- What story elements leave players confused?
QA testers often have the most comprehensive understanding of how all game systems work together. Plus, they create the test plans. (Wouldn't you love to help them develop a test plan for narrative?) Treat them like your fellow creatives - they can show you what's working and what's not, and you desperately need that info.
Speaking Everyone's Language
Different departments have various ways of communicating. Not everybody loves words. Adapting your communication to match departmental cultures improves collaboration and reduces misunderstandings.
With Design: Focus on player experience and systems. Talk about core loops. Draw flowcharts (my god, they love flowcharts). Frame narrative suggestions in terms of how they enhance gameplay goals. Ask them what they need from you - and then deliver.
With Programming: Listen. Get clear on their technical requirements and implementation timeline. Provide clear specifications and be prepared to discuss alternatives if constraints arise. Ask them what they need from you - and then deliver.
With Art: Collaborate on ways to tell the story through character design and environmental art. Ask about their asset needs. Learn about the art production pipelines. Ask them what they need from you - and then deliver.
With Audio: Ask them how they implement dialogue. Find out about possible environmental audio opportunities, like in-game radios. Make sure you are clear on voice recording logistics and technical constraints. Ask them what they need from you - and then deliver.
What This Knowledge Can Do for Your Career
These collaboration skills are what studios are looking for when they say they want "experienced" writers.
When you can show that you have these skills, here's what happens:
- You're brought onto new teams and projects much more quickly
- You get more creative freedom, because leads trust your judgment
- Your games are better because you collaborated well
- You start to get promotions as you become someone who helps teams, rather than being someone who needs to be managed by someone else
- You become known in the industry, because word gets around
Plus, the referral effect: Writers who are good team players get great referrals because they make everyone's job easier. When producers, designers, and programmers enjoy working with you, they recommend you for future projects and sing your praises to their game-dev friends.
Curious about your current skill level?
Our Professional Skills Quiz shows you exactly where you stand on the collaboration skills that make or break game writing careers.
Susan O'Connor is an award-winning game writer with credits on BioShock, Far Cry, and Tomb Raider. Her projects have sold over 30 million copies and generated over $500 million in sales. She founded The Narrative Department to help writers learn the ins and outs of writing for games - skills that everyone assumes you somehow already know.