Why do game stories feel… bland?
If a friend asked me that — or said things like:
“Why didn’t I feel satisfied with that game’s story?"
"Why do so many games feel the same?"
"Why did I spend $70 (at least!) and still feel empty after the credits rolled?”
—I’d have an answer ready.
It’s because corporate deadlines, quarterly reports, and underpaying writers and narrative designers are corrupting game stories.
The Core Problem: Creativity and Pressure Don’t Mix
Creativity and pressure are opposites.
Even the most brilliant writer can’t create stories worth remembering when their entire livelihood depends on hitting arbitrary milestones set by people who only read reports.
Corporate studios chase trends.
They measure success by graphs, not by hearts moved.
They treat employees as assets, not as artists.
And somehow, they’re surprised when players say, “It feels like these game companies don’t care anymore.”
They don’t.
And you can feel it.
Addicted to Drama, Not Emotion
When it comes to narrative design, corporate wants more:
More adrenaline.
More heartbreak.
More spectacle.
More shock.
They’ve learned that drama is addictive — literally.
As psychologist Dr. Scott Lyons explains in his book Addicted to Drama, our brains release dopamine when exposed to conflict and tension.
This creates an unhealthy pattern in the brain, programming it to crave more.
So, they build stories designed to hook you on chaos and drama.
They’ll make you cry, not because the story earned it, but because it sells.
They’re not trying to move your soul.
They’re trying to manipulate your hormones.
And when the cycle of “bigger, darker, faster” burns out their writers, they replace them with cheaper ones — because the system doesn’t value people, only content.
The Factory of “Content”
In live-service games, it’s even worse.
Imagine this:
“Narrative Designer #12, you need 10,000 words written by Friday. Voice lines record Monday. Oh, and make sure it’s engaging enough to increase gacha pull rates.”
That’s not storytelling.
That’s assembly-line manipulation.
We’ve turned something sacred — human storytelling; human joy — into a “perfectly engineered” dopamine machine.
A system optimized not for meaning, but for monetization.
The Question We Forgot to Ask
When was the last time a game’s story actually benefited you?
Not made you cry.
Not made you “feel something.”
But actually helped you grow?
When was the last time a game’s story:
- Taught you something about compassion or forgiveness?
- Reignited a dream you’d given up on?
- Made you feel hope — personal, deep, and real?
- Left you thinking, “I want to be a better person, help others because of that story”?
Those are the kinds of stories that change lives.
And they’ve become rare — not because writers forgot how to tell them, but because they’re not given time, tools, or freedom to.
The Game That Changed Everything for Me
I remember the exact story that changed my life.
Because of that game — its narrative, its hope, its humanity — I dared to dream again.
It made me believe that tomorrow didn’t have to feel as dark as yesterday.
That story made me who I am.
It inspired me to write hundreds of thousands of words for games and to create NarrativeFlow — a tool I built to help you create stories that can do the same for someone else.
Just one game’s story inspired me to become a better, happier person — and to help others do the same.
Reclaiming the Story
It’s time to wake up.
To stop being captive to the corporate machine.
To stop confusing drama addiction with art.
Stories can make the world better — but only if they come from people, not profit sheets.
Are you tired of broken tools, endless debugging, and creative burnout?
I was too, which is why I made NarrativeFlow for my own stories, and later decided to share it with others.
It gives you the freedom to design your narrative visually, without code, without chaos — so you can focus on what truly matters:
Creating stories that heal, inspire, and ignite.
Because when you reclaim your creative freedom,
you don’t just write stories.
You write change.
Ready to improve your narrative design skills? Get my free Narrative Designer’s Playbook with 12 practical insights for crafting stories players actually care about.