Archive for Videogames

Killing your babies…

In videogames there are different types of design documents. There can be one for the Ui, there can be a purely technical document that deals just with the solutions that the programmers need to work with, but before all these other, more specialized forms come into play, there is your master document. When you pitch a game concept to your
producer, whether you be already embedded in the industry or not, you’re going to be asked “do you have a design doc for that?” It’s the death question. If your answer is no, you’re dead on the water. Even if you put one together and come back in a week, that
moment of interest, that spark is GONE.  If you do have one, likely it is full of your hopes and dreams for this game. It has every cool trick, puzzle and visual dynamic you
want to see in your game. It’s probably so big that the game, as written will take years to develop and a team of hundreds to produce.

That’s okay. In fact, that’s GOOD, and I’ll tell you why.

It’s easier to kill than create. Every creative type has been exposed to this at some point or another. It’s easier to put in too much, then edit out the unnecesary fluff than it is to try and add more content, to fill in the gaps and extend a product. Realizing you’re
three levels short and having to figure out how to slot them in when you hit Alpha is a frakkin’ nightmare on SO many levels.

So this is where I am right now with our game. To borrow a term from the literary, I am killing my babies. Going through each and every level and figuring out what is essential, what is almost necesary and what is just going to bloat the thing like a week old corpse in the sea.

I have a whole a gameplay mechanic I had outlined in here that is, well, it’s useless. It gets used in one place to solve one puzzle and will suck up a ton of coding that could be better put to use elsewhere. It would be cool, but it will cripple something else that is far more important to the overall game. So I’m killing it, searching through the document and cutting it free like a wart gone bad. Finding any reference, any place it pops up and changing the pieces to more solidly support the “core” game mechanic.

It hurts, believe it or not. Taking that cool thing out feels like cutting off a toe. But I can already see how the rest of the game is going to be stronger for it, how this pruning and butchery will make the center stronger, tighter. The blossom that will result is going
to be a solid, robust thing, rather than the weedy puffs of “cool” factor that they were headed to grow into before.

Now I just need to find the Bactine… and perhaps a roll of gauze.

Still beating my head against the wall of understanding…

See, now I’m stuck on this subject.  I really want to understand just *what* it is about our industries that makes us so “different”.  A number of the game people I talk to say “on, no, we have nothing in common with the movie industry” and many of the literary people I talk with say “no, we don’t have anything in common with games”.  The movie people, well they don’t talk much, I leave a lot of voice messages for them.

In all three cases, the initial idea, the primary concept, starts with a single creative type.  For this example, I am going with Game Designer, the Author or the Screenwriter.  In all 3 industries the core idea can come from a producer/editor/agent/actor/programmer or some place else, but there is almost always a single entity at the start of the project.

That person develops the idea, they pitch it, they bring in people to create content to prove the worthiness of the project.  Then they either sell the idea (to a game publisher/book publisher/film studio) for production or they put together their own team and go indie.

In all three cases, this is around the point at which the single entity goes to a “team” dynamic.  A film or TV show acquires writers/storyboarders/concept artists/designers.   A Game acquires writers/storyboarders/concept artists/designers.  A Book acquires an editor/jacket artist/proofreader/marketing guru.

Strangely enough, in a “middle-of-the-road” situation, it seems to take almost the same amount of time for all three types of projects to get completed.  An average (no, not AAA like Bioshock2) game takes about 2 years to hit the shelves.  An average TV show seems to take about 2 years to pilot, produce, find a timeslot, etc.  An average book seems to take about years to get edited, proofed, typeset, designed and printed, etc.

In all three cases we have 1. An idea guy/gal.  2.  A publisher/Producer who fronts the money to make it happen.  3. A team of people who make it a reality.

In all three cases you can have that idea bought or taken away from the creator, run through a committee or “focus group” and churned out as something completely different from what went in (though I think this may be harder in Lit, where the single creator keeps a hand in through the entire process).

In all three cases, you have the money-fronting entity taking the lion’s share of the revenue.

In all three cases you have a “team” that needs to be paid above and beyond what the original creative type negotiated for their share.

In all three cases we are looking at the buying and selling of an idea.  Of a story.  Of an IP rather than a single, concrete physical product (though a the end of the process the IP has been turned into some sort of warehouseable products).

In all three cases you have the money-fronting entity trying to own the entire IP across all types of media (film, TV, Lit, Game, video, etc. etc.) in exchange for fronting the money.

So it seems the devil (as it so often is) is in the details.  Do the differences lie in the structure of the organizations?  The way the deals are cut?  The distribution and marketing?  Am I missing some crucial detail here?  If you know, post away!  I’m asking these things (and blogging away) because I genuinely want to see what everyone else seems to be seeing.