Perhaps gameplay

I feel better. On my left a woman with sandals and a large rimmed hat sits casually, virtuosically plucking a kind of mini harp. On my right, through a doorless opening, visitors discuss the Forest's most recent art installation. Behind me, through the heavy curtain, a free two man play is being staged. I choose to stay here, between it all, soaking in the woody smell and sipping grape juice. "Here's your grape juice, Sam." On the low table beneath this circle of couches - a Japanese to English dictionary, some wilting plants, an unbranded foil of pills. A charcoal coloured church, clearly visible through the cafe's glass front, provides a medieval backdrop, upon which top hatted Fringe performers and loosely clothed frequenters come and leave through the front door.

Perhaps gameplay can be defined in this way - the process of virtual learning, cerebrally and dexterously.

Watching the harpist, her enjoyment of playing comes from a satisfaction - a self recognition of skill. Also from the challenge of exploring the boundaries of that skill.

Good gameplay seems to share those traits. If the learning process involved isn't fun, it is bad gameplay. If the learning process isn't engaging, perhaps because you've learned a similar skill before, or it's too easy, this too is bad gameplay.

Progression through the game must be like the best harp teacher would guide their lessons - Challenging, but forgiving, varied, and with potential for the student to experience rewarding freedom and allowed opportunity for personal expression.