Before this class, I never really saw myself as a “gamer.” I’ve played some casual games here and there, but I always thought game design was for people who were super deep into gaming culture, the kind who could talk for hours about mechanics or had every console since childhood. That idea got flipped pretty quickly when I realized just how many different kinds of games exist, and that designing games is more about understanding people and how they interact, not just about playing a ton of video games.
One of the coolest parts of this class was learning how to think about games as experiences and systems, not just entertainment. Through the different games I played like Blackjack, Hay Day, The Room, and One Night, Hot Springs, I started noticing how design choices shape behavior, how randomness or narrative can pull you in, and how even something as small as a hint popping up can totally change the vibe. I started asking things like: who is this game really for? What assumptions is it making about its players? And what’s it trying to get me to do or feel?
But the most fun (and the most learning) definitely came from designing my own games. The Stanford Puzzle Gauntlet was our escape room-style game built around Stanford’s campus. Honestly, it started as a goofy idea, but the more we tried to integrate campus history and iconic locations, the more we realized how little we actually knew about our own school. That ended up becoming the heart of the game, turning the puzzles into a way to “earn” your Stanford acceptance by proving how much you know (or can figure out) about the place. It was such a great way to combine narrative with puzzle design, and it really made me think about how to pace challenges, how to include hints without giving too much away, and how to make it feel satisfying when someone solves a level.
Then there was Kitten Klimb, which was just a chaotic joy to make. We wanted to build a party game that was silly, physical, and full of energy, and I think we nailed that vibe. Something that was even as simple as having players grab stackable items from their surroundings to use as a part of a zombie kittens style card game added this fun layer of unpredictability. But even with all the silliness, there was a lot of thought that went into balancing the different card types, making sure the rules were clear, and encouraging playful competition without things getting mean. It really taught me that even the most lighthearted games need structure and thoughtful design underneath.
A lot of class concepts stuck with me, but most of all were the concepts like chance and how it impacts behavior, how to create feedback loops that keep players engaged, and how puzzle difficulty needs to feel fair. I found myself applying those ideas directly into both games, whether it was building clever distractions in the Puzzle Gauntlet or designing strategic choices in Kitten Klimb. And I definitely got better at iterating and testing, something that used to intimidate me but now feels way more doable.
That said, I did run into challenges, mostly around explaining rules clearly and not getting too ambitious with ideas that were hard to actually build out. But those moments helped me grow a lot in terms of communication and thinking realistically about scope.


hey, designing rules people won’t just skip and will actually understand is surprisingly hard! Humans are always the hardest design challenges. 😉 I’m really happy you had fun and got to know Stanford better. I think teaching is a great way to really understand a subject, but so is making a game about it. Anyhow, thanks for a great quarter and never stop playing!