Or how many Stephen King books feature a main character who's a writer?
Or how many rock songs are about being in a rock band, or how awful/awesome it is to be a famous rock star? The answer to all of those questions is the following: a lot.
Certainly, there's no reason why you shouldn't write a film, or a TV show, about writing films or TV shows, or write a song about songs. But it's probably disproportionate to the number of movies and songs about, say... what it's like to be a, I dunno... a frogman, or a father, or a hypnotherapist with arthritis. And the worrying thing is... it's now happening to games.
Yesterday, I talked about the trend for indie games to adopt a retro aesthetic.
These are games that have been influenced by games, created by people with a strong connection and understanding of games, and their history.
By the same token, as indie gaming becomes ever more important, and now that the games industry has a certain weight of legacy behind it, we're seeing more and more games that are about games. And there's nothing wrong with that - anything is up for grabs when it comes to inspiration. These games speak to those of us who identify as gamers, who understand the language and the tropes.
The latest example is Pony Island - reviewed today - a game that makes us think about games, and asks questions about games. See also Undertale - a role-playing game which turns the genre on its head, where you can run away from every fight; The Beginner's Guide - a game that explores why creators create what they create, almost in a way that's defensive; and The Magic Circle - in which the player fills the role of a play-tester tasked with fixing a broken game.
Of course, these aren't the first examples of games about games.
Perhaps most famously, Nintendo's Wario Ware series turned the company's own history inside out, while various online games - Progress Quest, Achievement Unlocked, Super Press Space To Win Adventure RPG 2009, Free Will, and Facebook game parody Cow Clicker - are more simple, but no less inspired, satires of games and gaming culture.
Yet it's only now that games are giving some depth to the sub-genre. The turning point seemed to come with Bioshock. Its most famous twist - look away now if you haven't played it - questioned the player's freedom to make choices within a game. It flagged up how we are funnelled along a narrative path in most games, and never stop to question why. The criminally underrated Spec Ops: The Line also paid lip service to addressing the horror and the body count which gets racked up in most first-person shooters; something which rarely gives the player cause to pause.
Certainly, the most recent examples of indie metagames are beautifully put together. What they reveal about both creator and the player, through deconstructing what a game can be, touches on the profound.
So, it's metafiction, but it's kind of inevitable; if someone's going to create a piece of art, then - at the risk of sounding wanky - that art ideally needs to come from a place of truth. First-hand experience produces more tangible results. We can feel through the game, and empathise with its creator.
In theory, anyway. At the moment, the indie sector's trend for games about games may be producing some incredible work, but great work often inspires imitators - and I fear that the next wave of meta games-about-games risks getting very self-indulgent.
Speaking as someone who's had the semi-good fortune to have worked in the TV industry, the BBC pretty much has a blanket ban on any pitches that are about the TV or entertainment industry.
This might surprise you, given the success of Alan Partridge, W1A, 30 Rock, Episodes, The Larry Sanders Show and their ilk - but those are the exception, shows written by creators with a proven track record.
And it's not that the BBC don't want shows about TV - it's that if they didn't rule it out they'd be inundated with lacklustre pitches for TV shows about TV. The sad truth is that there are too many creators - whether they're TV writers, songwriters, authors, or game developers - who exist in a bubble. Everything they do is filtered through their work. It becomes their life, and their only frame of reference.
Compare the early works of most bands, which often deal in universal themes... and then their lyrics a few albums hence. Most reach a point, sooner or later, where they start processing their own first-hand experience through their lyrics - singing of a life that most of us can never relate to.
And I fear this happening with games too, even if we're not yet at a point where it has become an issue.
The issue it raises is the importance of anyone involved in creative works to have a life outside of their work.
If your only point of connection with the world is through the filter of your art, then you risk being inspired only by your own work.
Doing so risks experiences that are shallow and lazy, rather than speaking to broader, more universal themes that everyone can relate to. Plus, if all the best indie games are only about indie games, then it's going to become a cul-de-sac, walled off from ever reaching a broader audience.
I want to see some of the creators responsible for the above games broadening their horizons, and using their talent to deconstruct what it is to be a human being. What it is to be alive. To love, to mourn, to be scared. To tackle those universal themes. I want the rest of the world to finally see the potential of gaming beyond FIFA 16 and Call of Duty, and the big commercial releases, and to be moved by playing a game.
Because it's only then that we'll reach a point where video games can be accepted as art, and gain respect alongside history's greatest songs, movies and books.
Also, more games about frogmen, please.