For the last entry in this series, I must address briefly what is at the heart of every story: themes. Depending on whether you’re a gamer or not, you may be wondering: do video games even have themes or a “moral to the story”? And yes, there are, as there are themes to every story. (After all, even a story whose main message is that there is no deeper message is, paradoxically, still communicating a theme.) It’s easy to identify themes in story-centric games, but even simple video games, like Super Mario Bros., often boil down to a simple good versus evil conflict. But don’t mistake the simplicity of a good versus evil dichotomy for a poorly-constructed moral center. I am personally a fan of simpler themes. In fact, sometimes I think it is often the humblest and the most straightforward messages that have the most impact and memorability.

The good versus evil conflict found in many video games is the biggest takeaway for novel-writers. In most games, there is typically always clear heroism on display. You know who the good guys are. And, more significantly, you embody that hero throughout the game, which goes back to the idea of making your main character relatable from the first entry in the series. Goodness, or striving for goodness, is part of crafting a relatable hero. As a contrast to heroism, games also have a clear evil defined. You know who the enemies are. You know who you’re trying to defeat, and whether it’s monsters or humans gone bad, it’s clear who the main foe is. There are exceptions to this breakdown, of course, but I gravitate towards games where this is the case. Games like Zelda stick with me in part for how they display good versus evil in clear, elegant ways. Don’t underestimate the power of a simple good-versus-evil dynamic.

Now, there is a place for morally gray characters or sympathetic backstories for villains. Plenty of games I love have ambiguous characters, betrayers, or heroes with flaws. All of those are good, too, or at least have a place. Stories should not be boring, by any stretch, and finding creative ways to express simple themes is great. After all, some of the games I love—like JRPGs like Xenoblade Chronicles—have complicated thematic expressions. But at the end of the day, even those complicated games have room for simple themes to shine through: the power of love, sacrifice, regret, good-versus-evil—all beautiful themes that never get old.

Even games that explore moral grayness often still reflect a good versus evil dynamic. You know who the primary protagonist is. It’s rare for your playable character to suddenly change allegiances on you in a game, though your understanding of the primary antagonist might (as in Portal, for example, as you gradually realize the computer guiding you is actually not a friend). And you know the objective: the final boss you must defeat. Novels like to blur the lines even more when it comes to exploring morals and themes, depending on who you are as an author, so I think we can especially learn from the wonderful, beautiful simplicity of video games regarding our themes. Even as we explore more complex realities, the moral center of our stories should always come to rest on something sure, and something simple. Themes do not—and maybe should not—be complicated. Video games teach that in a fairly clear way.

And with that, this mini-series on lessons from video games comes to a conclusion. Happy writing—and happy gaming.