The Games Game

A Tangent of Artistic Proportions (September 2005)

Hi Tom,

I was a top salesperson for 13 years before changing careers to games. I just read your August 2005 column on persuasion and the need for salesmanship.

I agree and want to add some additional thoughts. A major benefit of this concept of "selling yourself" is being forced to view "goods" (that's you) from the "buyer's" viewpoint. As a creator of games that we want players to buy, this viewpoint is essential. The most basic mistake a rookie developer can make is to craft a game for themselves. (And we all did it.) We have to make games FOR THEM. Showing you can empathize with the desires of your audience is a great way to "sell" yourself in an interview, in addition to being an important part of your attitude toward making games.

Thank you and enjoy the rest of summer!

Hi Chris,

Good point. All too often we conceive and design games that appeal to our own peculiar tastes, without regard for what the market wants. And this point extends beyond the crafting of a game. It applies as well to our resumes and cover letters, and in fact to just about anything we write or create.

We always hear that an applicant should tailor the resume to the job he's applying for. If the resume just says "here's what I've done," without regard for the particular job requirements, the applicant shows that he's too lazy to look into the needs of the potential employer.

The writing of any document must always take into consideration the purpose for writing it, and the audience who will read it. It ought to be common sense. But perhaps this awareness comes with age and experience.

I see a tendency among many young people, those who aspire to work in the games industry and even those who are already in it, to adopt an outlook I call the artiste attitude. Heck, I used to have that outlook myself, when I was in my twenties.

The artiste believes that the works that he creates should fully live up to his vision. And the artiste's vision cares not a whit for the opinions of critics or [shudder] the unwashed public. "Here's what's wrong with games that have been made before, and here's what games should be after I've shown everybody how to do it right," the artiste decrees.

The eternal challenge for the artiste is to get the funding he needs to create his masterpieces, and then, having created one, to survive the slings and arrows from the critics and [shudder] the unwashed public. With experience, the successful artiste comes to learn how to present his visions in a way that will bring in the bucks. Guess what - in order to get funding, he learns along the way that the opinions of critics and the consumer are important, and he finds way to accommodate those and stay true to his (evolved) outlook.

The other type of artiste, the one who points a quivering finger of shame at the successful artiste and calls him a sell-out, typically finds himself without funding. After years of sticking to his guns, he may manage to get a few works finished. Perhaps those works earn a cult following. And perhaps after he is long gone, he's re-discovered, and declared "ahead of his time." Art history is full of such stories. Better to be recognized during your lifetime than after you're dead. Ask any dead artist. Oh, you can't - they're dead!

Boy, did I go off on a tangent there, or what! (^_^)