E3 Coverage

Now here is something interesting: Kmart Games’ Corp-blog is bringing three citizen bloggers to E3. That in itself isn’t very interesting; places run contests all the time. What IS interesting is that 1) the winners will be writing for both their own blogs and KmartGamer and 2) winners will pretty much have autonomy to comment on whatever they want.

An aside:

In 2006, I was slaving away on what would become Superman Returns for the DS. The console team was crunched like no other and in fact, couldn’t spare any designers to go to E3 and give people their first hands-on look at the game. EA threw together as many knowledgeable roustabouts as they could. Being an extremely junior game designer who actually knew quite a bit about the design process on the console game but without any of the scheduling ties, I was picked as one of the folks who would represent EA.

We were “media trained” which really meant techniques to avoid making you and your company look like big assholes when you are avoiding questions. I was, honestly, pretty good at it. I could be a politician if I was a sadist. But being on the other side of the coverage after nearly two decades of being a consumer of E3 websites/magazines/stone tablets (in reverse chronological order) was honestly a bit off-putting. All day you repeated yourself over and over again until your brain shut down, you had an out of body experience and could float above the din. You would wander to the edge of your booth hoping for a gaze of something new and interesting that would be respite from your routine.

After sixteen hours on my feet answering the same questions over and over and over again, I just wanted to wear a sandwich board with the release date, characters, platforms and major features so I wouldn’t have to scream myself hoarse over the noise since this was all anyone ever asked. Honestly, I was a bit shocked at how easy it was. Tiring, but mentally trivial.

Out of literally a hundred interviewers and writers I had talked to throughout that weekend, only one ever asked me interesting questions. We talked about the history of Superman and the difficulties of designing around such an iconic figure with few weaknesses. I took his card. I think I still have it with my other E3 things. He was a freelancer. A blogger. An interlocutor. I don’t think I ever saw his article.

But what stood out for me was the routine of it all. The presenters and the interviewers go through the motions, expecting little out of the others and getting it. The E3 previews often look like press releases. Ho hum.

Yet if you filtered out the marketing goons, there were literally hundreds of interesting game designers and writers there, dying to talk about something interesting – their hopes, their influences, things off the official marketing talking points. Yet unless you were the “face” of a company – the CliffyBs or the Will Wrights – no one cared to ask anything but the obvious.

This is why I’m particularly excited about KMart’s contest. With luck, they won’t just pick the most passionate three bloggers they read. My hope is that they pick people who will ask the questions that provide insight that no one else will ask. Because what do they have to lose? They are just bloggers. They won’t have to only gloss the surface due to deadlines and quotas. They can have fun. They will have the autonomy to beat the professionals at their own game and provide some memorable content.

Actually, during the writing of this post, I decided I’d enter the contest. Why not? I have experience both in writing and in giving interviews. I’m a designer with insights into how the process works: what is flourish and what is truth. And being an educator, I’m no longer tied to the success or failure of any particular company’s products. KMart has come out of nowhere in the past year, from an afterthought in the games retail space to a top choice for both price and communication with customers.

I think the key there is authenticity. The KMartGamer blog feels decidedly un-corporate. There’s a real human behind it, not a group-written PR statement. And us gamers respond to that authenticity with praise and respect. Easily, this contest could have had a big asterisk saying: *KMart reserves the right to your likeness, words, soul, etc. You must talk about this and this and this because our partners are looking for particular coverage.

No. It’s just going to be three bloggers telling others what’s up at the biggest public-facing industry event of the year.

I dig that.

Cart and Horse

When I was in college, I was a TA for a professor who was also a fancy-pants consultant. One day, he comes in a few minutes late to class and tosses me his keys. “Couldn’t find a parking spot,” he says and he tells me where he was double parked.

I put on my coat and head outside, a little aflutter because he talked about his damned Jaguar S-Class all the time. I got in. The seat, steering wheel and mirrors adjusted to me instantly. The car then said, “Would you like a massage and a cocktail?” Okay, the last part I made up, but it was pretty luxurious. I may have taken a second lap around campus looking for a spot. Hey, it was crowded and snowing. Tough to find a spot.

Anyway, the next day I hike over to the student lot, jiggle the key to open my problematic 1990 Jeep Cherokee whose door handles don’t particularly work and whose heater/AC blows cold air in the winter and warm air in the summer. Now, coming from my professor’s sweet ride I probably should have been spoiled on driving my beater, but I wasn’t. I loved that car.

It’s about expectations. When you drive a $60,000 car, you have a set of expectations about how it should feel, handle and look. With your hand-me-down thirteen-year old car you have different expectations. Honestly, I’d be stressed out to death driving that Jaguar around in the snow and ice on CMU’s crowded campus on a daily basis. Give me my Jeep any day.

I’m getting to a point about games.

I’ve been having interviews with a lot of companies, both packaged and social game makers, and it’s been challenging my assumptions. One of the companies is a traditional game maker shifting to a social game portfolio. We discussed significantly the differing fundamental processes used in each type of production. My most recent call with another really brought up a core difference in the consumption of the two around the concept of demos.

Both traditional and “social” games (I use the term loosely here for any free-to-play game supported by microtransactions) have free versions. In social, these are the primary interface. In traditional, these are demos. Social advocates would have you think that they are equivalent. And for a while, I believed that social games were their own demos.

I recently picked up Recettear on a Steam holiday sale. It’s a charming little economic sim slash RPG about running an item shop in a JRPG setting. It’s a bit grindy and at times feels like it could be a more hardcore Cafe World without time-lock mechanics. I paid $5.00 for Recettear yet I would never pay $5.00 for Cafe World, even if it was a little richer dynamically. Why?

When I paid $5.00 for Recettear, I knew it was an all-you-can-eat affair. My expectations were set. I could play this as much as I wanted and my success or failure at extracting fun out of it would be entirely independent of the price I paid. When I play a demo, it is showing me a hint of what I can get for my $5.00. When I get into it, I know I will get an old Jeep or a Jaguar when I pay my entry fee. The demo is representative of the experience. Even if there was no demo, I still know that I will get a complete curated experience for $5.00.

If I were to pay $5.00 in Cafe World, I would get the benefit of some boost or mechanic or decoration. But my success or failure at having fun is based not only on the internal mechanics which I see in the “demo” version but whether or not I convert. But even after I convert, I don’t know if I am getting a beater Jeep or a Jaguar because there are always more bits and pieces to buy, any of which may or may not increase the fun I have with the game. It’s like a real world version of Zeno’s Paradox where you keep moving but are never any closer to your goal. This has nothing to do with psychological trickery or underhandedness. It is simply the nature of a free game where the potential of unlimited spend is core to the experience (unlike something like WoW, which is fairly complete on its own despite PDLC and provides value in exchange for a subscription fee). It’s like if you went to the movie theater to watch Star Wars for and got in for free but they purposely made it lame unless you put enough quarters into a slot on your seat to see light sabres ($1.25), X-Wings ($2.00) and Alderaan blow up ($3.25). You would feel ripped off, whereas you wouldn’t if you had paid the $6.50 beforehand.

Note that this is different than buying a traditional game with paid downloadable content. In those cases, either you are ignorant of the true cost or it must be incorporated into the full price of the game. If the former is the case, it is a case of misinformation, not design. But how do you do this for Farmville? How much does it cost to play Farmville?

In my quest to figure out whether I want to actually be a social game designer, my key question is not whether the studio uses A/B tests too much but whether the studio believes that fun is independent of spend and whether it should be. I can get behind a social game maker where the designer’s goal is to make a fun game that has a good chance of making money versus the goal of making money with a good chance of the game being fun. I believe strongly that you can do that in the “social” space, but it is going to require innovative business models and more than lip service to craft. I’ll gladly lend my skills to a place whose goal and processes are dedicated to crafting the best games in the world and who doesn’t define “best” by immediate plurality.

Deciding who fits that bill… that’s the tricky part.

Airport Rush and Little Failures

You need to fail to get better. It’s a tenet of design, really any endeavor.

A few months ago, I commented on a board game I was working on that I was proud of called “Airport Rush”. No, don’t look. I’ve un-published the posts. I had worked on it for a number of months and had been stewing on the concept for even longer.

As you know from my Dominion randomizer, I’m a big fan of that particular card game. But I find that the cost balance is really decided by the group playing. If everyone tries to buy Chapel whenever it comes out, should it not be more expensive than two for that group? Should Treasure Map not cost five if it is bought in every game in your group? When you are dealing with cardboard instead of digital, you can’t make those switches on the fly without confusing house rules. But this stoked an interest of mine in designing a board or card game that was as self-balancing as possible.

So I spent roughly five months prototyping and playtesting and tweaking Airport Rush. In it, you get a number of passengers per turn and can fly them out or sit them on special cards that give you additional choices. The cards don’t have a cost. Whoever has the most passengers tied up on one gets the benefit. Thus, you spend the possibility of current points at a market rate for an ability which you judge to be worth more by endgame. The balance worked perfectly – I’ve never played a game, even with noobs, that was a runaway yet the player making the best decisions rarely lost.

I was excited enough about it that when my friend Mark said he was going to GenCon to pitch one of his designs, I was right there with him. My playtesters were asking to play Airport Rush. That’s a good sign!

After getting my appointment pushed back, I finally sat with one of the major board game publishers in the business. I removed the board and pieces from my backpack and gave some overview of the game. I had barely finished what choices one has on a turn when I got my first (and one could say, final) feedback.

“The theme doesn’t work.”

I paused. “What do you mean?”

“Who is the player that he can move passengers around an airport? Is he an airline? Then it doesn’t make sense that he can put passengers on flights to different cities.”

Now, it appears to me that there are two different methods to board game design. Either you can come up with clever mechanics to meet some sort of aesthetic end and apply a theme on top of it for flavor with a stronger coupling helping to flesh out that theme, or you can start with a theme and build mechanics around that theme. In the former case, you tend to get stronger systems with themes that are questionable at times. Look at Puerto Rico. How can you be a Governor and a Mayor simultaneously? How can you choose when there is a harvest? Why can you only have one type of good on a ship? Look at Dominion. Who the hell are you in Dominion? Look at Race for the Galaxy. That game makes absolutely no sense thematically. In the latter case, you tend to get very strong themes with more bland game systems. Obviously, I went the former route. The game systems work very well and I thought the theme worked well to support those but not perfectly.

I knew the publisher’s lineup and thought this fit. First impressions mean everything. I blew mine.

I realized I wasn’t getting anywhere with that, so I took out my backup. It was a card game called New York Minute. In it, you place New York landmarks and try to get three in a row.

“You are placing known landmarks. The Statue of Liberty isn’t next to Broadway. It doesn’t make sense.”


Later in the weekend, I met with a small publisher who expressed serious interest in New York Minute only to renege by email a few weeks later. GenCon was a bust. I was so defeated by my experience that I unpublished the Airport Rush posts I had made on here. Now that I’ve had time to reflect, maybe it isn’t such a failure. What should I do with the designs? Keep working on them? Shelve them and try something new? Try to produce them myself? Kickstarter? Keep sending to publishers I didn’t meet at GenCon? The games are good fun and unique, I know this and I want to share them.

My tenacity is not the problem. I just don’t know what to do next. It’s not so much a design problem as a business problem. If you were looking for some lesson beyond “failure happens”, I’m afraid I don’t have one for you all on this particular post.

10 Tips for Being An Unemployed Game Dev

I was invited to be a guest speaker at IGDA Orlando with short notice. With the closure and recent resurrection of n-Space and the pending annual layoffs of doom at EA, I figured that something about how to deal with unemployment might be helpful, given my current Level Up in that particular skill branch. I did a lot of ad-libbing, but the talk went well and I crafted the below post from my hastily typed notes on my iPhone. Lots of folks came up to me and asked me questions as if I knew something afterwards, so it must have been moderately compelling and I must have given the impression of proficiency.

Without ado:

Item 1: Don’t Panic

So you just got laid off, huh? You are probably thinking: “Holy Hell. How am I going to pay for things? What am I going to do with my life? What did I do wrong? How could this happen?” Calm down. It happens to many of us. It doesn’t mean you are a bad artist/producer/coder/designer. Yes, it probably isn’t fair. Yes, there are probably some assholes who know nothing still with their jobs. Yes, you will have to tighten your belt, but it is okay. Unemployment insurance compensation doesn’t pay much, but with careful planning, you won’t starve.

Or maybe you are a recently graduated or soon-to-be-graduated student. You ask yourself: “How will I get a job when all these people with experience are flooding the market?” Again, don’t panic. While it certainly sucks to time your life to be graduating during an ever-deepening recession, there’s little you can do about that. Blame your parents for poor planning. You, however, can only make the best of it.

The key to Item 1 is to not take the first job that will have you simply because you are panicked that nothing else will come along. This is a common mistake simply because so many of us out there are desperate for a job and so many companies want to hire replaceable parts. You need to find a studio that will support you and make you feel that your work is worthwhile. After all, why are you in this industry?

Daniel Pink’s newest book Drive is a great read on motivation and fulfillment, if a little pop-science-y. In it, he lists three components of work that make work inherently fulfilling: autonomy, mastery and purpose. Find a place that will provide that for you. There’s so little time for us on this Earth. Don’t waste it by slaving for jerks because you are in a panic and don’t see any better options.

Item 2: Do Your Homework

Almost as bad as accepting a job you know you will hate is tricking yourself into believing that you won’t hate it. Now more than ever you need to be in everyone’s business. Do you have friends in the industry? How are they liking where they are? What does Gamasutra say today? More layoffs at such-and-such? A new EA Louse coming out about another studio? Those are good indicators (but not sufficient) of places that are not pleasant to work. If you are applying for a position, is that position open because it is new (good) or because the last guy couldn’t deal with all the BS (bad)? Does this place seem to make games that are made with care and artistry? Or do they make shovelware? Does that even matter to you? It’s okay if it doesn’t! In doing your homework, you will find out. This isn’t a one-day event. This is something you need to be doing regularly.

Moving costs a lot of money. You are only hurting yourself (and hey, maybe your family, remember them?) by picking up and moving to some place at which you won’t be happy. Don’t let it happen to you.

Ok, I promise the doom-and-gloom is mostly over.

Item 3: Play Games

Yes, sir! You have forty hours a week more than all your sucker friends with jobs and you still have a stack of games from two Christmases ago that haven’t been opened. Time to get cracking. Play great games. Play shitty games. Just play a lot of games. Not only will interviewers expect you to know what is popular, but they will want to know what you would change about titles. Stay current and play as much as you can. If you plan on applying to a social game company, you better have played more than Farmville. If you plan on applying to a company that makes shooters, then you better know why Halo succeeds and Killzone has mostly failed.

THIS ISN’T JUST A TASK FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO BE DESIGNERS. The dirty little industry secret that we designers keep is that everyone is a designer. Code slingers may spend their lives knee deep in Perforce, but they too need to know instinctually how games work just as a designer does.

Remember that you are playing these games with a critical eye. You are playing to learn and to have fun. If this task is work to you though, then maybe you should pick another industry, I know I don’t need to give you all more reasons to play games, so I will move on.

Item 4: Start a Blog

Hey, look, I follow my own advice sometimes. You aren’t starting a blog to get nerd-cred points, although those might come eventually. You are starting a blog to make yourself a better communicator. Take those games you played in Item 3. What did you enjoy and why? What did you not enjoy and why? What do those games make you think about? These are good starts for blog posts.

The reason I started this blog was simply that I was not a morning person. I’d get into work, fire up the computer and look at a blank Word document that needed to be a design draft by 3pm. I found that browsing the news sites of the day and then writing a short post about something I found interesting or disagreed with really primed my mental gears and got me going. Then I kept up with it, met some awesome people and it became a Thing I Did with capital letters. It doesn’t have to go that far with you, but you should realize the exercise’s potential in cultivating your written talents.

That said: Try your best not to slag people. Be constructive. There are enough negative nellys on the Internet. It is easy to be a curmudgeon. I spend most of my day as one. It is harder and more rewarding to be critical. There is a vast difference. But blogging should be an autotelic experience just like playing games. If you don’t love doing it, you won’t keep it up and you won’t get any better. If you don’t enjoy it after a while, try some other technique to keep your written communication skills sharp. This one works for me, thus I recommend it to others.

Item 5: Network

An unfortunate truth is that the vast majority of interviews I’ve done in my unemployed periods have not come from diligently applying to posted jobs but instead come from people-knowing-people-knowing-people-at-suchandsuch who happen to be looking for a designer. I can recall only two interviews I’ve done where I’ve gotten calls for an interview from traditional listings. The fact is that a lot of companies post listings just in the hopes that a Prince Charming will come along and sweep them off their feet, offering to work for a dollar salary with fifteen years of perfect experience. They don’t want you. Also, some companies have such a bad reputation that they hire tons from traditional listings because no one internally would ever recommend their friends into that hell.

It’s better for both ends to actually know someone by other means. It is better for the employer because they have someone they (hopefully) trust pre-screening schmoe applicants and it is better for the employee because they are doing the Item 2 due diligence by actually talking to a real employee beforehand to find out what the company is really like sans HR bullcockie.

But you can’t get that foot in the door unless you are networking. Sam Houston has a great list of game devs on Twitter. Find the ones making games you are interested in and ask them questions. Most are nice enough and not so busy that they can’t answer a 140 char question. Twitter is a good start.

People have been lukewarm about the IGDA, but I’ve met a lot of great folks there. I guess it varies city to city. It’s pretty cheap to attend their events generally and can’t hurt.

How about conferences? Yeah, GDC is expensive, but you get what you pay for. Are there any cheaper conferences locally? Have you thought of more non-traditional cons where you can schmooze like GenCon? Keep an open mind. Sturgeon’s law applies–90% of your contacts you meet you will only talk to a few times. But the 10% that you regularly correspond with or become friends with is really worth all that extra effort.

Of course, the autotelic warning from above applies here too. You aren’t networking for the purpose of these people helping you. You should be doing it because there are interesting people out there in the world and they are tough to meet if you are playing Farmville by yourself all day and not making an effort. Most achievers can smell out people who want to be friends only for their personal gain. We know who you are. There is no hiding it. If you are that kind of person, then I have no advice for you, sorry.

Item 6: Practice

When you were employed (or when you were studying), you were constantly engaging in behavior (hopefully) that made you better at what you do. You were writing designs, or making characters or writing code or whatever it is you did for a significant portion of your week. Now, you aren’t being paid to do that. How will you make yourself better?

I make board games. I’ve talked about this briefly before. I choose to do this over coding and self-producing my own games because there is less overhead. I can go from stupid idea to realizing my idea is stupid via paper prototype in maybe an hour or two versus a few days via my sloppy coding ability. Honestly, I don’t think I work hard enough at this. I resolve to do better.

How will you make yourself better? I ask again. Will you write a novel? Make a comic book? Record an album? Make a Team Fortress 2 map?

After you are fired, you get about one month of guilt-free time where you can sleep until noon every day and watch Ninja Warrior on G-4. After that first month, if you keep doing that, you are a slacker. You are blessed with all this free time! Don’t squander it! My next item ties directly into this.

Item 7: Finish Something

I am guilty of this and so I turn my shame into lessons for whoever is reading. The points of practicing are twofold: to get better and to provide proof of your efforts. There are many, many writers out there with unfinished novels on their hard drives. These people are not novelists, they are chapterists*.

It is easy to make a board game and not really worry about playtesting it. It is easy to write half a novel. It is easy to write janky code that sorta-kinda-works but not really in all situations. It’s harder to make a tested, elegant game system. It is harder to finish a novel. It is harder to write robust code. Finishing things is hard work and it proves you are still capable. It proves it to yourself when you get depressed that you are out of work and no one wants you. You can say: “I’m still a writer. Look at that novel I finished!” Or: “I’m still a designer. Look at that board game that my playtesters liked!” And better than proving to yourself that you still have it by finishing, you can parlay that experience to interviews: “Well, I’ve spent the last few months making a mod for Civilization 5 and it has five thousand downloads” sounds a hell of a lot better than “I’ve watched the entirety of Quantum Leap” in an interview.

But, you doth protest: I try writing stuff or coding stuff or designing stuff and it is shit and I don’t want to finish! My reply: OF COURSE IT IS SHIT! You learn by making shitty works. If you were able to summon up the great American novel by force of will then you wouldn’t need to practice writing, would you? My best advice for aspiring game designers is to not be afraid to make shitty games. You learn from making shitty games/novels/programs. Fear of failure is fear of progress. Students often wail over the catch-22 that you need experience to get a job as if the only way to get experience was via a job. Yes, it is the most salient way to show experience, but it is far from the only way.

I’m devoting another paragraph to this because I feel it is that important. Here you are, unemployed, with no penalty but deflated ego if you fail and it is NOW that you are afraid to make things? And you want a job where there are million dollar budgets on the line based partially on said ability to make things? THEN you will be comfortable with your abilities?

*By the way, I totally stole the “chapterist” term from some writer’s workshop I went to once and I don’t remember who it was so I can’t give attribution. Sorry, because I really like the term and the meaning behind it.

Item 8: Read All Kinds of Stuff

You’ve got a lot of spare time! It is silly to believe that all of that time will be constructive relating to Items 6 and 7. But even when you are feeling writer’s/designer’s/coder’s/artist’s block and you aren’t working on your blog (Item 4) or your backlog (Item 3), you can still be doing things to help your position.

Read a ton. Fiction. Nonfiction. Whatever gets your interest. I personally keep record of what I read and post it here on my blog at the end of the year, just so I can go back in the future and remember some of the things I had read and temporarily forgotten. But most important is to not get sucked into the same kinds of books you normally read for leisure. I mentioned Daniel Pink’s book Drive above that I read this year. That isn’t my normal topic for leisure reading. And while it wasn’t about Game Design per se, it is highly illustrative of a number of issues that are tangential to game design.

You will end up finding the oddest connections. And most of all, you will keep learning. But don’t strain yourself to read topics that you generally find dull. I know people who read technical manuals and can down them like they were pulp mysteries. I know if I started one, I’d never finish. Read things for enjoyment and let the enrichment happen as a side effect.

I suppose Drive ended up as being a cornerstone of these ten points without me really attempting it to be. Interesting.

Item 9: Keep a Routine

I personally again have not been following this advice, but I have special dispensation because of certain life events. As I said earlier: you are allowed to wallow in sorrow and watch junk TV all day for the first month of unemployment. After that, you need to kick yourself in the ass and give yourself a routine. Set yourself a time to wake up if you generally oversleep. Many people I know find unemployed time to be the perfect excuse to start working out again. You don’t need an expensive gym membership. I wish I could count myself among them, but I’ve been too lazy thus far. Set yourself some “work time” everyday where you write/code/whatever. I had this for a while and then aforementioned certain life events uprooted it. I firmly believe I will go back to it.

Nearly every site I’ve seen with “unemployment tips” recommends this for the simple reason of depression avoidance. I’m no psychologist so I cannot tell you why it works, but as someone who fights depression, I can attest to the fact that setting a routine certainly helps me feel more in control of my life. Maybe it will work for you, maybe it won’t. But I cannot see it hurting. At the very least it will force you to be organized and realize how much time in a day you spend poorly. You don’t have to be productive 24/7 to be happy; quite the opposite. But if accomplishing things makes you happier, and setting a routine helps you accomplish things, then it follows that setting a routine should make you happier.

Item 10: Enjoy It

I believe fully that my unemployment situation is temporary. Since it has an end, I only have a set number of days in which I have full control over 168 hours of my week (save some mandatory things I have no control over.) Someday, I will trade that free time for meaningful work and a paycheck, but in the meantime, I will treat every day as an opportunity to become better at what I do and enjoy my life. Think about what you don’t have to deal with as an unemployed person:

– Traffic Jams or Crowded Subways
– All-Hands Staff Meetings with 90 PowerPoint Slides with 12 Pt Font and Animations
– Having to Pay Full-Price Rather Than Matinee Price for Movies
– Not Being Able to Play One More Round of TF2 Because You Have to Get Up in The Morning

Hey, being unemployed isn’t so bad! Go out and make the most of it! Or stay in. Whatever.

The Rural USA Zombie/Ghoul Genre

– Whirlwind tour here, folks.Two years ago when I moved into a house in Florida I said “God damn it, I’m never moving again.” Then I moved to New York City and said “Moving is for suckers, good thing I’m in this Great City.” Well, I’m moving again, this time to a cheaper city to contemplate my options. And it is just a stressful as it always is.

Unemployment this time around has left me a bit crestfallen and unmotivated. I know that this situation is entirely not my fault, but I’m still left feeling inadequate. I’m trying to distract myself by writing. My writing has significant problems but I suppose all writers feel that way about drafts. I’ve got some board games in embryonic form and one that I am submitting to publishers.

In a self-promoting turn, I’m quoted in the debut issue of Handshake Magazine about violence in gaming. The magazine is free and full of great articles with eye-pleasing layout, so check it out.

– I have had time to play a few games. I’m utterly torn by Deadly Premonition. It is wholly awful, but it exudes this sort of creative artistry that shows someone cared for it. I read the postmortem in GameDeveloper and wanted to chuck it across the room when I read how long they spent making real event cycles for the townsfolk and other behind-the-scenes stuff. Maybe they could have spent some time on making the controls not stiff and unresponsive? Or maybe they could have hired someone who has at least written a short story to do the dialogue. In the way of a lot of Japanese-derived voice acting they take thirty second pauses between lines, so when there is literally a four minute scene where the characters introduce themselves to each other and no action or development happens at all, I want to get the source code and just comment out the whole scene.

Other than that, it has some interesting themes going on. You can pick it up for like fifteen bucks now. But be prepared for some gristle.

If you were a fan of Dead Rising then the demo-slash-prequel Dead Rising Two: Case Zero is probably for you. (Dead Rising hit a two run walk-off in the bottom of the ninth to beat Case Zero, if you are looking for the box score.) Here’s another instance where I am torn by the writing. In the opening scene, there is a very tense revelation of backstory as you find out that the child was infected by her own mother and that the father has sacrificed for her. Yay for characters with motivation!

Then you get into the game proper and it just lacks any sense of subtlety. There’s the pair of, ahem, ladies, on a bachelorette party complaining about how “omigod, not hot” it is that they are stuck in a bowling alley with some zombies. Uh, what? The auteur side of me wants to say that this is (as was Dawn of the Dead that the series is based off of) a commentary on the shallowness of popular American culture. There’s evidence to support this. Zombies still stand at the slot machines in the casino compelled even post-mortem (ha! Used that in two different ways this post. Achievement unlocked). There are a pair of “extreme” athlete fans that stay put fighting packs of zombies because it’s “awesome”. If I was working on this, I’d have put a zombie on a computer in the police station with a little image of Farmville on the monitor. But then I look at the lack of subtlety thrown in across the board (sure, there are motorbike forks sitting in this locked shed, why not) and just want to assume they are being silly because it’s their damn canvas and they can use whatever paints they wish.

But here’s an honest question: how does a town with ten buildings have a thousand zombies wondering on the street? Where did those people live? Where did they come from? Who are they? Why do they congregate on the streets? The Willamette shopping mall thing made sense – these folks come from the various burbs. Here it just looks like they were using the copy-paste tool to make it scary.

Here’s another question: why does a hunting supply store have a display of broadswords?

Here’s another question: how was Zombrex named, packaged, manufactured and distributed in a few days/weeks?

Here’s another question: How does Chuck attach nails to a propane tank without rupturing the tank?

Here’s another question: Ah, screw it. I’m thinking too much.

I guess you want to know if it is fun. It is! I played it through twice and cannot wait for the full game. I’d give my pinky finger to design on a Dead Rising game. I love ’em.

– I should write more on here, but when I think about games I start getting pensive and sad, so I’ve been avoiding it. I will rectify the situation.


So… long story short is that I’m not going back to Gameloft. Looks like I can hire out my services to any progressive company that will have me.

If you are looking for a designer/producer/TF2 spy, here’s my card:

No, really, that’s my card. If you see me in person, I’ll dig one out of my wallet for you.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a lot of time to work on my prototypes and writing! Door closing, window opening, cliches inflating.


It’s pretty damning for a blogger to not post for more than two-weeks. I’ve lost the link that showed a study between post density and traffic, but rest assured that quantity is indeed a component. So I apologize for being quiet recently. Work is busy and my free time is spent gearing up for GenCon.

I’m bringing the Airport game I blogged about recently to show to publishers and also quickly adapted a design I had shelved in 2009 after randomly coming upon a novel theme and scoring mechanism for the whole thing. It’s tenatively called New York Minute. I rudely threw that together with Gloriana’s help and so I’m bringing two well-tested (I got a lot of reps with NYM in its previous incarnation. It’s a pretty good game that lacked a theme and felt a little arbitrary. It was surprisingly easy to fix.) games to the show and hope to get some useful feedback from the publishing folk.

When I come back, I’ll post a full recap of the goodies of GenCon and then I’ll be back to my regular posting schedule. I’ll leave you with a link to a very hyped new blog that posts the tired and I thought defeated argument that you can divide price by hours and get some sort of enjoyment metric, as if enjoyment was measured in hours and not something more flighty like utils. These articles are inevitably written by college kids or people who generally have the time to fully appreciate 100+ hour titles where people with demanding jobs or kids or a life really appreciate getting a full experience in a digestible amount of time, even if that makes the price/hour metric all outta wack.

Whoa Nelly

I’m not going to continue my posts about Airport Rush for the time being. I had a fantastic playtest session with some very talented designers at Eric Zimmerman‘s playtest group yesterday and I think I am going to make some major changes. While this is dangerous to do a month before I take the game to GenCon, I think it is absolutely necessary.

It highlights what I’ve known to be a problem with my process for some time now and that is the unfortunate necessity of having the same people playtest your games. Since you can’t take them out back and format their brains to see everything as a blank slate, they are forced to compare a new version with an old version. If the new version fixes problems with the old version, then the fixes must be good, right? Well, no, not exactly, because those fixes might make no sense to someone coming into the game raw.

There are problems in Airport Rush with the alignment of theme and mechanics. While I am no slave to theme – Why are there n identical San Juans in Puerto Rico? Why can only one type of good fit on a ship? Why in Ticket to Ride do you need special colors of track? What do the tickets represent? And so on – there is much to be said about congruency insofar as it helps people understand the rules and mechanics. If people are distracted by incongruent rules, then I should work to fix it. Some incongruencies will remain (to the chagrin of nitpicky designers), but I was looking for feedback, not orders.

It’s actually been a long time since I’ve received feedback that was in the form of: “Why did you do things this way?” “Because such and such.” “Oh, I see. I think that’s too slow. Wouldn’t such and other such be better?” It’s refreshing.