First, I was absolutely destroyed, for the third time now, by GD23 Andy in yet another poor SF4 showing. It was the finals this time, and it was during our party thrown for the new GD class (GD24). I even thought I had counter-picked my opponent's Blanka with a surprise switch from Sakura to Honda. Big mistake. At some point since I last played him, Honda was hard nerfed, and the priority battles he used to win uncontested now trade in very painful ways. I was dizzied in my first round before I knew what was happening.
It would have been humiliating if I wasn't so used to it by now. ;)
Good party, though! Everyone seemed to have a good time, and I enjoyed running it, and I managed to meet a few people that I didn't know before. A good deal of the burden of running the show was lifted from me thanks to fellow 23s Sean, Dave, and Ian. Thanks guys!
Anyway, back to the serious business of learning to design, create, and manage games. This is a couple of weeks overdue, but I have a short list of pointers for anyone entering the school behind me.
1. Excel in every way you can, but strike a balance.
I've written at length about managing your time and focusing on the important tasks. Do that. Assuming you are like me, you have to balance your desire to be awesome with the abilities of your instructors and peers to reward you for it. I believe the extra hours I spent in Sketchup and Powerpoint and Photoshop and writing my guts out in Word have established me as one of the hardest-working students here, but I stressed myself out and my grades in some cases are only marginally better than the people here who are opting for the path of least resistance.
2. Double-check that every assignment has been submitted to Moodle by downloading it in a separate window, ideally on a separate machine, and then check it a third time later.
3. If you can't be on time, come to school early. There is a short list of people in my class that are habitually late. I'm not convinced I can rely on them to deliver, and that will affect my choices for teammates as time wears on. I expect it will have similar effects on our instructors working in the industry when our resumes cross their desks.
4. Follow Directions. With so many instructors, classes, and students, it can be challenging to keep things straight. Even the instructors occasionally fail when communicating exactly what's required. At the end of the day, though, you are responsible for your work and your learning here. Following the assignment directions is the quickest path to good grades. Use your eyes and rely on yourself.
5. Know Your Role. As a student, you're here to learn. As a friend of mine once said when I was interviewing at BioWare, "be awesome and be humble." I`ve noticed a lot of bruised egos getting in the way of learning here at VFS, and the sooner you get past the impulse to protect yourself you learn that being wrong, especially at school, is awesome.
You can boil this all down to taking this seriously. Have fun, get drunk, play games whenever you can, make friends, but expect to spend at least 60 hours a week transforming yourself into a professional skilled and lucky enough to work alongside the awesome people making the games you love.
I feel like I've been standing on a soapbox too often lately, but as our group projects get into full swing I'm becoming more aware of, and less forgiving of, people who are giving half an effort. There's just too much at stake.
The next few posts will be more fun, though. I promise. Thanks for stopping by!
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Thursday, 3 November 2011
The Road to Pistol Reef
Pistol Reef is a 2D, third-person side-scrolling shooter where an adorably furious pistol shrimp named Rotor uses his claws and an arsenal of upgradeable weaponry to battle the forces poisoning his reef home. It will feature over-the-top character and enemy designs, a cel-shaded art style, and rotating weapon nodes around Rotor's body.
Pistol Reef is the Flash game my team is making over the next six weeks.
I mentioned before that we created our Flash teams before the end of Term 1. Our first step as a team was to discuss our roles, followed quickly by me (the PM) setting a deadlined meeting for the five of us to share at least two well-developed ideas for games that we would want to make and play. The results were lackluster, but fortunately we settled on an idea that has some real potential to be tonnes of fun and a beautiful portfolio piece. Before I get into that, though, I wanted to discuss why Pistol Reef, my idea, was chosen over the others.
Let me state first that my idea wasn't better than any of the other (few) pitches that came out of our first meeting. There were some intriguing ideas there that could make for good games. Still, I've found I often get my way—my ideas get "made" in the confines of our assignments and projects—for four reasons.
1. I take the prep time and the assignment seriously so I can develop good ideas.
2. I present entire ideas (not just gameplay concepts) using the structures we have been taught.
3. I only pitch ideas that I am invested in. I pitch ideas for games I would want to play.*
4. I'm willing to be wrong. Ideas are cheap and everywhere, and better ones are bound to come along. This makes humbleness easy to come by.
* From speaking to our instructors in the industry, this is a habit I will want to break if I want to seem intellectually fecund**; somewhere between one and five percent of professionally pitched ideas end up being implemented, so I should get used to pitching everything, not just the "good" ideas.
** I don't care how haughty this sounds. It's my vocabulary and I can dig into it if I want to. :)
Anyway, I have no doubt that being older and bolder than the other students also plays a part in me getting my stuff "made", but I've been more than willing to take the passenger role during group work when someone else steps into that leadership role. Someone's gotta do it.
Back to Pistol Reef. GD has six intakes (one every two months) right now, so there is plenty of wisdom to plumb, and the most common advice has been to manage our scope for these major projects. Pistol Reef's goal length has been set to a modest five levels, and while we have some ambitious art and design aspects (20+ enemies, minibosses, bosses, and multiple weapon types) I think our team is up for it. Ideally, it will look a little like Castle Crashers and play a little like Metal Slug, and if we can achieve those goals I will be incredibly proud.
This is the first project of this scope for all of us, though, so I am being cautious with my optimism, but yesterday we received feedback from our instructors on our concept document, and it was overwhelmingly positive. The few negatives were already picked up by us and addressed as a team, and we were also warned to put our core gameplay before our sweet unique mechanics, lest we fall behind and have to scale back.
I'm hopeful, and I know we have the talent to make a good game, but we have our work cut out for us and I have some creeping doubts that I am hoping to address soon.
I'll tell you about those soon. Thanks for stopping by.
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
My First, Real Test in Project Management at VFS
So, let me just acknowledge how poor a showing I've made with the blog lately. Mid October was the last time I even so much as tweeted anything. Shameful. With the new term ramping up (but still relatively, blessedly light on work), I will write here more often over November.
Let's talk about my Flash group.
The second term in Game Design at VFS is well-known as the Flash term. There are plenty of other assignments to do, of course, but creating a Flash game from nothing is "the" assignment that defines these two months. Late last term I sat down with the other class rep and we worked to create six teams from the 26 students in our class, endeavoring to create balanced groups of programmers, artists, level designers, and project managers. We succeeded (or, if we haven't, no one has brought up that they are missing a key skillset just yet).
My team is five people strong, and we are pretty well balanced overall. Over the past week and a half we have organized ourselves into roles, chosen a game concept from a shortlist that each of us brought forward, and played some sample games (Castle Crashers, Tentadrill, and Metal Slug 3) to help develop our aesthetics. As the PM, I have deadlines set for each of our team members so we have a prototype running on Monday. Things seem to be humming along. I have high hopes and a solid plan to bring this all together, but I also have some concerns. I want to expand on one of them here, and I'll do another tomorrow.
First.
Despite how often and how clear it has been communicated to us that being unprofessional is bad for us during our "year-long interview", one of our team members is habitually late for class. I'm not sure how you commit a solid year of your life and a modest year's worth of wages to an organization, and then fail to show up. Each late in GD drops a student's grade by 5% (to a maximum of 10%), not to mention the considerations given to our professionalism grades (each class has some of those, too).
Worse than all of that, by far, is that the people who are teaching us know EVERYONE we will be working with when we graduate. Those bullshit lates and unexcused absences will stick in the minds of our instructors and classmates, and they provide the easiest excuse you could ask for to pass on a resume.
You might be thinking that this is all none of my business, but I disagree. Not only am I working directly with this student—the success of my project hinges on his hard work and consistency—but his attitude reflects on us as a class. The gaming industry is a tightly knit group of people, and my time as a GD23 will likely follow me for much of my career. I want us to be known as a class of professionals that created consistently excellent work, and I know we can be that group, but not if we have people wandering into class late or not at all.
Anyway, enough preaching. The short version is that I hope this student can turn this around and destroy the reputation he has built for himself. I'm going to help him do it, if I can.
One bit of wisdom that I learned during my past career was to "praise in public and punish in private." I won't punish anyone, but I will talk to this student, one on one, and let him know what's happening. He might not really see the effects of being late; he certainly doesn't see the reasons of some instructors who are learning his name for the wrong reasons. There could be something in his personal life that I have no right or need to know about, but this understandable issue could be affecting his ability to be a professional student here.
I'll get the facts, lay out my expectations, and see how we can work around any limitations (if any) that there are. If there are none, I will expect him to be as productive, hard-working, and dedicated as everyone else on my team.
Am I being unreasonable? Got any similar stories from your semi-professional lives to share? Leave a comment, and thanks for visiting.
Let's talk about my Flash group.
The second term in Game Design at VFS is well-known as the Flash term. There are plenty of other assignments to do, of course, but creating a Flash game from nothing is "the" assignment that defines these two months. Late last term I sat down with the other class rep and we worked to create six teams from the 26 students in our class, endeavoring to create balanced groups of programmers, artists, level designers, and project managers. We succeeded (or, if we haven't, no one has brought up that they are missing a key skillset just yet).
My team is five people strong, and we are pretty well balanced overall. Over the past week and a half we have organized ourselves into roles, chosen a game concept from a shortlist that each of us brought forward, and played some sample games (Castle Crashers, Tentadrill, and Metal Slug 3) to help develop our aesthetics. As the PM, I have deadlines set for each of our team members so we have a prototype running on Monday. Things seem to be humming along. I have high hopes and a solid plan to bring this all together, but I also have some concerns. I want to expand on one of them here, and I'll do another tomorrow.
First.
Despite how often and how clear it has been communicated to us that being unprofessional is bad for us during our "year-long interview", one of our team members is habitually late for class. I'm not sure how you commit a solid year of your life and a modest year's worth of wages to an organization, and then fail to show up. Each late in GD drops a student's grade by 5% (to a maximum of 10%), not to mention the considerations given to our professionalism grades (each class has some of those, too).
Worse than all of that, by far, is that the people who are teaching us know EVERYONE we will be working with when we graduate. Those bullshit lates and unexcused absences will stick in the minds of our instructors and classmates, and they provide the easiest excuse you could ask for to pass on a resume.
You might be thinking that this is all none of my business, but I disagree. Not only am I working directly with this student—the success of my project hinges on his hard work and consistency—but his attitude reflects on us as a class. The gaming industry is a tightly knit group of people, and my time as a GD23 will likely follow me for much of my career. I want us to be known as a class of professionals that created consistently excellent work, and I know we can be that group, but not if we have people wandering into class late or not at all.
Anyway, enough preaching. The short version is that I hope this student can turn this around and destroy the reputation he has built for himself. I'm going to help him do it, if I can.
One bit of wisdom that I learned during my past career was to "praise in public and punish in private." I won't punish anyone, but I will talk to this student, one on one, and let him know what's happening. He might not really see the effects of being late; he certainly doesn't see the reasons of some instructors who are learning his name for the wrong reasons. There could be something in his personal life that I have no right or need to know about, but this understandable issue could be affecting his ability to be a professional student here.
I'll get the facts, lay out my expectations, and see how we can work around any limitations (if any) that there are. If there are none, I will expect him to be as productive, hard-working, and dedicated as everyone else on my team.
Am I being unreasonable? Got any similar stories from your semi-professional lives to share? Leave a comment, and thanks for visiting.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
The Power of Planning (for me)
I had an interesting convo with Marc (the other GD23 class rep) last night while we were on a break during Level Design Theory.
We were discussing our deathmatch levels—just a few minutes shy from submission—and he made the comment that he *never* creates a theme before starting to work. He prefers to just dive in. No story. No characters. No setting for the events to take place. No real events, even. He just starts working. And apparently, it's working for him. His map was clean and functional and he'll probably get a good grade.
I'm the opposite. Everything starts with a plan; a group orientation meeting; an impromptu design doc. I answer every question I can before ever start the work itself, and this allows me (and other stakeholders) to focus on that vision. I also spend way more time than I would bet every other student in class on any given assignment. I also iterate and detail throughout. My map (I'll post it below) is detailed, functional, and I will also probably get a good grade.
The difference? I'm betting I spent almost twice as long on my map. There's another time management lesson here—it's the same as the last few—and one of these days I'm not only going to learn it, but actually act on that 80/20 rule I keep talking about. ;) I'm sure my planning will be very helpful in my chosen career path, but for now I have to be careful that it doesn't burn me right out.
Anyway, I *did* manage to keep my scope down this time around—it's a four-person map, and it is straight-forward in its design. I wanted something that would be fast-paced and accessible to multiple play styles. And, of course, I wanted the players to feel like they were in a set of crumbling jungle ruins.
We were discussing our deathmatch levels—just a few minutes shy from submission—and he made the comment that he *never* creates a theme before starting to work. He prefers to just dive in. No story. No characters. No setting for the events to take place. No real events, even. He just starts working. And apparently, it's working for him. His map was clean and functional and he'll probably get a good grade.
I'm the opposite. Everything starts with a plan; a group orientation meeting; an impromptu design doc. I answer every question I can before ever start the work itself, and this allows me (and other stakeholders) to focus on that vision. I also spend way more time than I would bet every other student in class on any given assignment. I also iterate and detail throughout. My map (I'll post it below) is detailed, functional, and I will also probably get a good grade.
The difference? I'm betting I spent almost twice as long on my map. There's another time management lesson here—it's the same as the last few—and one of these days I'm not only going to learn it, but actually act on that 80/20 rule I keep talking about. ;) I'm sure my planning will be very helpful in my chosen career path, but for now I have to be careful that it doesn't burn me right out.
Anyway, I *did* manage to keep my scope down this time around—it's a four-person map, and it is straight-forward in its design. I wanted something that would be fast-paced and accessible to multiple play styles. And, of course, I wanted the players to feel like they were in a set of crumbling jungle ruins.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
The Role of Producers
This topic has been on my mind a lot lately.
Some of you know that my long-term goal in the videogame industry is to run my own development studio—I really crave that creative control and I can't exaggerate how satisfying it is for me to see talented people working towards the same goal (especially talents I don't really share, like real artistry). I want to influence the industry, reach out to new markets, and tell amazing interactive stories.
I've had this vague daydream these past few weeks of me running from team to team throughout the day and pitching in, solving problems, discussing others, escalating when necessary, and generally just being a go-to person when you want things done. It may not be entirely accurate to the industry, but it's very satisfying, and it all fits in with my goals.
Getting there won't be easy, of course. I need to fully understand every job in the studio, even if I'm only a novice in some of them. I need strong project management skills and an unfailing vision throughout the course of a project. Harder still, I need to communicate that vision to everyone else I want to work with—they need to love the idea almost as much as I do for it to succeed.
So, with these goals in mind, I think my best bet is to focus on becoming a Producer when I graduate. Producer roles vary from company to company, but I can expect to have some creative input, lots of control over projects without being the final say on any one thing (the leads on the core team will make those calls), and a broad understanding of the project as a whole. I love making plans and solving problems, and I'm results-focused without (usually) being too hard on people. Again, I think it fits.
What this means as I move through this year is that I need to focus on taking that role—it won't come to me. Our specialization streams are Art, Level Design, Coding, and Story (I'll probably be taking Design and Story to play to my strengths). Clearly, this lacks a dedicated project management/producer stream, so I will have to create those opportunities for myself if I want to practise those skills. Taking the lead on projects, (hopefully without squahing anyone else's ambition or ideas), being a class rep, and even putting on the Street Fighter Tournament (and hopefully other events) will help me practise these skills and teach me what I don't know.
Ideally, I would find a large studio where I could act as a producer on the story or level design side of things, marrying my "old" strengths with the "new" and pursuing my focus to its fullest.
Also? Leelee Scaldaferri (an artist who is also in the GD program a term ahead of me) just acted as the guest artist for one of my favourite things on the internet, Extra Credits (she also draws the Name Game webcomic for The Escapist). Her episode is about (surprise) the role of Producers in the industry.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to the challenges. Class time.
Some of you know that my long-term goal in the videogame industry is to run my own development studio—I really crave that creative control and I can't exaggerate how satisfying it is for me to see talented people working towards the same goal (especially talents I don't really share, like real artistry). I want to influence the industry, reach out to new markets, and tell amazing interactive stories.
I've had this vague daydream these past few weeks of me running from team to team throughout the day and pitching in, solving problems, discussing others, escalating when necessary, and generally just being a go-to person when you want things done. It may not be entirely accurate to the industry, but it's very satisfying, and it all fits in with my goals.
Getting there won't be easy, of course. I need to fully understand every job in the studio, even if I'm only a novice in some of them. I need strong project management skills and an unfailing vision throughout the course of a project. Harder still, I need to communicate that vision to everyone else I want to work with—they need to love the idea almost as much as I do for it to succeed.
So, with these goals in mind, I think my best bet is to focus on becoming a Producer when I graduate. Producer roles vary from company to company, but I can expect to have some creative input, lots of control over projects without being the final say on any one thing (the leads on the core team will make those calls), and a broad understanding of the project as a whole. I love making plans and solving problems, and I'm results-focused without (usually) being too hard on people. Again, I think it fits.
What this means as I move through this year is that I need to focus on taking that role—it won't come to me. Our specialization streams are Art, Level Design, Coding, and Story (I'll probably be taking Design and Story to play to my strengths). Clearly, this lacks a dedicated project management/producer stream, so I will have to create those opportunities for myself if I want to practise those skills. Taking the lead on projects, (hopefully without squahing anyone else's ambition or ideas), being a class rep, and even putting on the Street Fighter Tournament (and hopefully other events) will help me practise these skills and teach me what I don't know.
Ideally, I would find a large studio where I could act as a producer on the story or level design side of things, marrying my "old" strengths with the "new" and pursuing my focus to its fullest.
Also? Leelee Scaldaferri (an artist who is also in the GD program a term ahead of me) just acted as the guest artist for one of my favourite things on the internet, Extra Credits (she also draws the Name Game webcomic for The Escapist). Her episode is about (surprise) the role of Producers in the industry.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to the challenges. Class time.
Monday, 3 October 2011
Super Street Fighter 4 AE Tourney
Just wanted to share this. I (with help from fellow GD23 classmates) will be hosting a 32-competitor Super Street Fighter 4 AE Tourney on October 18 in the Game Design TV studio. It's going to be "off the hooks," as the kids say. ;)
That'll be my second-last day of classes for Term 1, and while I'm sure I will be busy, I really wanted to challenge myself to run this thing, have some fun, and give out some cool, game-related, hand-made prizes (plush slimes and Metroid toques). I'm also going to be donating my Sega Dreamcast and a handful of games to our library here at the school in the name of the winner.
We'll record some of the final matches, and I'll be sure to post them on here and on Facebook.
Thanks for stopping by.
That'll be my second-last day of classes for Term 1, and while I'm sure I will be busy, I really wanted to challenge myself to run this thing, have some fun, and give out some cool, game-related, hand-made prizes (plush slimes and Metroid toques). I'm also going to be donating my Sega Dreamcast and a handful of games to our library here at the school in the name of the winner.
We'll record some of the final matches, and I'll be sure to post them on here and on Facebook.
Thanks for stopping by.
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Burning Out in Early October
About to enter week six of my studies. This past week (and this weekend) was a tough one.
Since classes started I've worked very hard to do more than what I was being asked for—it's a good habit to be in when you're out in the real world, and I want to make a good impression on my instructors. My projects have been detailed and I've been getting good grades, and I don't want to be known as the guy who does the bare minimum.
Unfortunately for me, several unpleasant realities collided all at once this week.
First, I can't code for shit. I don't want to be crude—in fact, I want to convince my classmates to sound less like crab fisherman and more like young professionals, at least while we're in class—but it isn't an exaggeration to say that our programming class is making me feel like goddamned Gir from Invader Zim.
On the bright side, I am a little artistic and fairly creative, and I can draw passably well. These are handy qualities to have, but (as I mentioned previously) I'm a beginner with photoshop. Our "art" class (Visual Design Principles) has been pretty interesting but easily the most frustrating class for me because I am perpetually running into brick walls because I don't know the software, and there's very little time to learn it.
Naturally, week five was the intersection of a major, challenging assignment in each of these, my weakest classes. Plus a final presentation for Storytelling (a strength of mine, but the assignment was very time-consuming), and my final project in Storyboarding/Cinematics (another time-gobbler) is due next class. Layer on a few other, lesser assignments that require time and attention and the ever-present board game assignment (I have much tweaking and polishing to do) and you have a very full schedule.
There is no room in this schedule to do extra work on these assignments, so while it's painful and frustrating to do so, I'm going to be handing in assignments that follow the instructions, and nothing more. I need to stamp it all out, ignore my pride, get back on schedule (sleeping, eating, school, and play), and focus on my strengths and being a good class rep.
The alternative is burnout and a bad attitude, which has been creeping in steadily these past two weeks. It ends today. Right after I run through that powerpoint presentation another couple of times...
Since classes started I've worked very hard to do more than what I was being asked for—it's a good habit to be in when you're out in the real world, and I want to make a good impression on my instructors. My projects have been detailed and I've been getting good grades, and I don't want to be known as the guy who does the bare minimum.
Unfortunately for me, several unpleasant realities collided all at once this week.
First, I can't code for shit. I don't want to be crude—in fact, I want to convince my classmates to sound less like crab fisherman and more like young professionals, at least while we're in class—but it isn't an exaggeration to say that our programming class is making me feel like goddamned Gir from Invader Zim.
On the bright side, I am a little artistic and fairly creative, and I can draw passably well. These are handy qualities to have, but (as I mentioned previously) I'm a beginner with photoshop. Our "art" class (Visual Design Principles) has been pretty interesting but easily the most frustrating class for me because I am perpetually running into brick walls because I don't know the software, and there's very little time to learn it.
Naturally, week five was the intersection of a major, challenging assignment in each of these, my weakest classes. Plus a final presentation for Storytelling (a strength of mine, but the assignment was very time-consuming), and my final project in Storyboarding/Cinematics (another time-gobbler) is due next class. Layer on a few other, lesser assignments that require time and attention and the ever-present board game assignment (I have much tweaking and polishing to do) and you have a very full schedule.
There is no room in this schedule to do extra work on these assignments, so while it's painful and frustrating to do so, I'm going to be handing in assignments that follow the instructions, and nothing more. I need to stamp it all out, ignore my pride, get back on schedule (sleeping, eating, school, and play), and focus on my strengths and being a good class rep.
The alternative is burnout and a bad attitude, which has been creeping in steadily these past two weeks. It ends today. Right after I run through that powerpoint presentation another couple of times...
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