Alex Scokel

Queerly Represent Me spoke with Alex, a narrative designer at Obsidian Entertainment.

QRM: Can you tell us a little bit about who you are and what you do in the games industry?

Alex: I grew up in Alabama, which was a little like being in Trump's America before Trump's America was a thing. I got out after college, did some teaching, got half a master's in writing, did some tabletop writing for White Wolf, and then collected the other half of that writing degree. Finally I moved to Boston and couch surfed and banged on doors until someone let me work on games.

As a narrative designer / writer, I bring the game's story to life. I write a lot of dialog, but also the descriptions for items, the quest text, marketing materials, and location descriptions. I also do a fair amount of scripting and tools work. Writing for games isn't just about words, but about variables, bools, IF/THENs and AND/ORs.

QRM: How long have you been involved in the game industry, and what projects have you worked on? What are you working on currently?

Alex: I started in the industry in 2011 and worked in tabletop role-playing before that. I worked in quality assurance on a number of titles including BioShock: Infinite, Disney's Fantasia: Music Evolved, and The Order: 1886 before moving into narrative with the Tyranny DLCs ‘Tales from the Tiers’ and ‘Bastard's Wound’, the latter of which had me writing the companion content for Barik and Verse, the Tiers' second-most dysfunctional siblings. I'm currently working on Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire, among other things.

QRM: What inspired you to get started in the games industry?

Alex: I always loved games, especially those with a focus on narrative, but as a console gamer I associated those with Japan. The games whose stories I fell in love with as a kid were the Final Fantasies, Personas, and Lunars of the world. I didn't really think of writing as something that was done for games in America and, given that I am no programmer (and my Japanese is vestigial at best), I didn't even consider a career in games. That was until I played Dragon Age: Origins, a game chock-full of fantastic writing, vibrant characters, and interesting conflicts. I had just gotten my MFA in Writing at the time, so it seemed the perfect opportunity to give entering the videogame industry a shot.

QRM: In what ways do you feel your experiences as a queer person manifest in the games you work on, and influence the work you do?

Alex: I'm constantly aware, I think, of the way that I frame narratives and the characters I present, in large part due to being aware of how rarely I feel I've seen characters in games who reflect me. I strive to include a variety of identities and points of view, which sees me bumping up against the old 'we shouldn't include an issue if the story isn't ABOUT said issue' yarn.

At the same time, I find myself hyper-aware of problematic content elsewhere in the games I work on, in the stuff I'm not directly responsible for (making me very popular, they suggested sarcastically). This was especially true while I was in QA; I have horror stories about how difficult it can be to get developers to take issues of representation seriously, but I'm sworn to silence.

QRM: Do you have a favourite queer character—in games or media more generally? If so, what is it about them that makes them your favourite?
Question asked by @kamienw.

Alex: This will be a sticky answer, because she's certainly not without her problems, but I've never identified more strongly with a game character's struggle than Naoto's in Persona 4. And not merely because I'm socially awkward and emotionally infirm. Naoto's difficulty squaring her gender expression with societal expectations reflected my own experiences as a detective prince. Or young person. Whichever.

QRM: Have you ever encountered roadblocks in trying to include queer characters in games? What do you think is preventing greater diversity within games?
Question asked by @dustinalex91.

Alex: The short answer to this question is yes. Not just queer content, but diverse content in general. There remains a sense of 'we can't make a character a member of X minority unless we focus on that aspect of their narrative,' which they don't generally want to do for a variety of reasons. Instead of "Why does this character need to be a white male?" the default question is "Why does this character need not be a white male?"

Luckily the team I'm on now at Obsidian is very open to diverse perspectives.

We're also living in a time of pretty rapid cultural change, and more diverse stories in games is one of the things we're seeing a bit more of as a result.

QRM: Why do you think it is important that queer audiences are able to see themselves represented in the games they play, and in the developers who make the games they see? What can we do to improve the industry for queer audiences and devs?

Alex: When people don't see themselves reflected in mass media, it gives them the impression that they don't matter – that their experiences aren't valid or valued. It prevents the art from having its fullest impact, which is a loss for both the artist and the consumer.

It also does a disservice to those who ARE represented, preventing them from being exposed to perspectives that are not their own.

I think that improving the industry means letting go of some of our sacred cows. There's a sense of "lawless fun" at many studios, a very casual culture and an attitude of work hard, play hard. All of which excuses a lot of very problematic and immature behaviour, including quite a lot of things that can make people who aren't cis white males uncomfortable.

While the industry often appreciates professionalism, it doesn't generally enforce it.

QRM: Have you ever mentored somebody in your role in games, or been mentored? If so, what made these experiences worthwhile for you?
Question asked by @pepelanova.

Alex: Kind of? Only within my own teams, mostly when I was in senior and lead roles. Game development is a team effort, and spreading competence around makes everyone's work easier, with the added advantage of helping another person further their own skills.

Plus you get to refresh your own skills and learn a few new things yourself. Wins all around.

QRM: In what ways can non-queer folk increase and support queer diversity present within games, as well as in the industry more broadly? How can we all work to support intersectional approaches to diversity, and why is this important?

Alex: Use your money and your voice.

Spend money on games that provide the kind of content that speaks to you. Don't on games that don't. Don't give money to studios and publishers that promote practices you don't agree with.

Call out issues when you come across them in games. Gamemakers are more aware of their audience's reactions (and the audience has more methods of voicing their concerns) than ever before. That's a lot of power.

QRM: Is there a message that you would like to share with the queer game players, game studies researchers, and other interested folks who comprise the Queerly Represent Me community?

Alex: I think things are getting better? Sometimes it feels like it is!

We need you. It can be difficult, both as a dev and a fan, but your involvement is what will change things for the better.

Thanks in advance!

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You can find Alex on Twitter.