Friday feelings: Watching others interact with your work

Creativity has been a big part of my life. From Lego ‘masterpieces’ when I was small, through sad teenage bedroom poetry, to writing and designing now that I’m, well, less small. Every day I wake up and, at some point, feel that urge to create.

I’m lucky I’ve managed to earn a modest living from writing (certainly not from designing lol) and managed to do most of my creating without having to get direct face-to-face public feedback (managers, colleagues and friends don’t count!). While music has also been a big part of my life, for example, I never felt the urge to perform. The idea of being on stage for anything has always terrified me, which has gotten worse with age as anxiety has started to take a hold on my life.

but unfortunately, every now and again, it can’t be avoided. I had the privilege of writing the programme/booklet for the Cambridge Folk Festival for about 10 years (until 2012). It was poorly paid and managed (the editing process, not the festival), but it meant I got free backstage passes to a festival I loved – what’s not to like? But at the festival, I had my first experience of live public feedback – albeit indirectly.

There I was, sitting in a field with a beer on a sunny day with some good friends and good music – perfect. Then I overhear the people sitting next to us saying, “Wow, I’m not going to see that lot – they sound terrible!” Looking around, I see that the guy has come to this conclusion by reading what I’d written about someone in the programme…

I was mortified. The programme was purely promotional: I wasn’t reviewing these artists, but simply saying a mixture of nice things they wanted to hear (from their own biogs) and a few extra nice bits if I like them. Why didn’t they want to see them? He didn’t know I’d written it (or did he…?), but that wasn’t the point. I suddenly started to feel 20,000 pairs of eyes looking at me…

Of course, I now presume they didn’t want to see that particular band because they weren’t up their street. They’d read the instrument/influence list, who they sounded like, who they’d played with etc – and decided nope, not for me. But for that brief moment I was convinced everyone in that field was reading my programme thinking, “God – all these bands are terrible – what idiot wrote this and what are we doing here?”

A similar thing now happens with my board game designs, when I’m lucky enough to have them published. The most memorable example was at Essen 2016, when Queen Games released Armageddon (co-designed with David Thompson). While ultimately the game didn’t do too well, Queen did an amazing job of pushing it at the event. It must’ve been on 30 demo tables, which were filled throughout the weekend. Walking past those tables, or watching them, was so weird. That’s our baby!

What made it worse is Armageddon is a thinky auction-style euro game with tough decisions. We could often look along a long line of tables and see no laughter, no smiles, no back-slapping – just a bunch of surly, miserable looking faces lol. Luckily a lot of those faces were turning into sales, but it was an incredibly anxiety-inducing and awkward experience!

But on the flip side, I’m not worried about reviews. I’ve been reviewing for years – live by the sword, die by the sword. Not everyone is going to like every game, so there’s no point hoping they will: you just have to hope it’s good enough to get more good reviews than bad, and that those who don’t like it at least understand it and are fair. But even if they’re not, brush yourself down and move on.

Creating for the public is a privilege – but the minute you put your creation into the public eye you must be prepared for criticism. You need to understand that it won’t all be fair, or justified, or even coherent. But more than that you have to be prepared to walk away – not to engage. If you can’t do that, keep your creations to yourself and your friends. Everyone can create, but not everyone is ready for public scrutiny.

Post release comedown: dealing with bad press

Statler and waldorfSo you’ve made something – a song, a poem, a short story, a board game, whatever. You’ve spent blood, sweat and tears (OK, time and effort) making it the best you could and you’re proud of it. So much so, you put it out there for others to look at.

Then someone, somewhere, agreed – they thought it was good enough to publish. Maybe on their website, in a magazine or anthology, through their publishing company. That thing you made in your bedroom, that your friends and now this company like, will be exposed to the world. Which will be AWESOME… right up until the world gets its hands on it.

A few home truths. Some…

  1. People are mean: It’s true. Trust me, I’m one of them. I was a music reviewer for years and had some truly hilarious emails/letters from friends/relatives of bands I thought were awful – doing everything from threatening me, to questioning everything from my brain power to my birth right. I know, I was part of the problem – but at least it helps me brush it off today now the shoe is on the other foot.
  2. People are invisible: In my defence, while I was sometimes critical of albums, gigs etc, I always did it with my real name and so with a right to reply. Now it is easier than ever to criticise anonymously and, so, with no fear of reprisals. This lack of responsibility can inevitably lead to all kinds of unfounded and false statements that, however ridiculous, can still lead to lasting opinions from others.
  3. People are hasty: The advent of the internet – and even more so social media – has given the world a way to spout drivel at an unprecedented rate and to an ever-growing audience. It has practically no checks and balances, often has no takey-backsies, and it’s FREE. You can post things on the bus on the way home from the pub and not even remember the next day – or ever – that you’ve done it.
  4. People are stupid: They don’t do any research. They make moronic comparisons. They claim rumours, guesses and opinions as ‘facts’. They quote a single source as gospel truth without looking into it further (if they did they’d probably find it was posted by a mean, invisible, hasty or other stupid person). And often they haven’t fully (or sometimes even partially) read, listened, played whatever they’re criticising.
  5. People don’t start every critical sentence with ‘in my opinion’: Although that’s probably what they mean a lot of the time. Well, at least some of the time. Probably.

So what are you going to do about it?

Nothing. For several reasons.

  1. It won’t help: In the words of Shakespeare, haters gonna hate – and trollers gonna troll. You have no idea why they said what they said, and if it’s really dumb – or just plain wrong – why do you think the truth will out? Unless something is written in a very well-reasoned way, it’s probably best to leave it be – and even then, you may want to hold off, largely because…
  2. The cavalry is probably on its way: The fact there are several people on the internet will, inevitably, work in your favour – because every bad penny has a flip side to the coin. They may equally bad, mean, stupid, hasty and uncritical but more importantly than any of that they can be forgiven because they’re ON YOUR SIDE. If you let someone else fight your battles for you, you get to keep your dignity – and your sanity – intact.
  3. Because even if you the cavalry doesn’t arrive, getting involved will very rarely make you feel better: Most likely, one of two things will happen. One, you’ll feed the troll and start a childish spat you’re probably not going to ‘win’. Or two, your reply will be met with silence and you’ll never, ever know if the original poster even read it. Think about how much that might eat you up. And while you’re thinking about that, imagine what the percentage is of cases that end in the original poster replying, “Wow, you’re totally right! I didn’t see it like that. Thanks for correcting me”.

Sure it’s hard. But think back to the opening points – the people posting those comments are probably mean, stupid, unresearched and lazy when it comes to sentence construction. There’s no need to fuel a fire and hey, be pragmatic – they didn’t like it. No biggy. You always knew there would be people who didn’t (although of course you’d hope they’d keep their mouths shut). Nothing is for everyone – and at least it’s out there, right? You’ve made your mark on the world and you should revel in that.

But what if they had a point…

The best thing about anything creative is that there’s always a lesson to be learnt, always a way to improve and always another mountain to climb. If they were right, learn from it and move on. Because that next creative project is going to be even better – which means the cavalry charge against the stoopids will be even more vociferous and unstoppable…

Guide to board game reviewing, part 1: Getting started

Statler and waldorfWith 60 board and card game reviews under my belt, I thought it was time to write some articles about following this particular path of writing.

If nothing else I’m still at it, so that has to count for something. And I find it incredibly rewarding, so any chance to give something back feels good.

This isn’t about how I do my own reviews, or about my own particular style and layout: these are things I think anyone should get a handle on before they undertake reviewing of any kind (not just games). Please feel free to correct me where I’m wrong, or point out things I should add, in the comments below.

1. Want nothing

Seriously: don’t go into this with any expectations beyond knowing you’ll be able to read your own reviews on the internet. No one may read them, no one may comment, no one may care; you may never get a thank you or acknowledgement, a free game, or a free anything, and you will likely never make a dime. Still here? Excellent.

2. Is writing for you?

Not everyone is gifted with writing skills – or proofreading, laying out posts, taking photos etc. Today we have simple access to a host of audio and video mediums, which in truth can get you a lot more visits and followers too. I have been blessed with a face and a voice for the written word, but you may find your skills are in other areas. Give them a try.

3. Read what’s out there

Whichever medium you choose, study the form. What are others doing? Who stands out, and more importantly why? Or even better – what isn’t being done, or being done well? Think about what you’ll add to the many voices that are already fighting to be heard. Constraints can be a powerful shaping tool, but certainly aren’t for everyone.

4. Find your voice

Your individual voice, layout and style will make you, so be sure you’ve found them before you begin. And if you have, will it suit the audience you want to be speaking to? For some 100 pithy words will do; while others will prefer sprawling rants bereft of punctuation. If you find your style, and stick to it, people who like it will come back – and keep coming back.

5. Set yourself standards

It doesn’t matter what they are, but it can really help to discipline yourself. I will write 400-600 words. I will do a review each month. I won’t swear. I will not rest until no word is underlined in red (or blue). I will compare it to at least three other games. I will play every game I review 10 times. You’ll be proud of your reviews if you have something to aim at.

6. Start with what you know

While being the first person to review the hottest new releases may help you get followers or views, when you start out is is probably unrealistic to think you can achieve this – and it’s probably not even advisable to try. While finding your voice, review games you know really well: you’ll be – and sound – comfortable, confident and knowledgeable.

7. See both sides

I don’t care how much you love – or hate – said game: someone has the opposite opinion. I’m still amazed at the love some games get that I openly despise, but hey – get used to it. And more importantly, cover it. Look for criticisms or love, consider them, and work them into your review. Try and say good and bad things about every game.

8. Don’t mistake opinions for facts

On rare occasions, games are broken or unplayable; but the rest of the time they fall into the 3-9 out of 10 category. Phrases such as “I think” and “in my opinion” are your friends – sweeping statements (“this is crap”, “this is the best game evs”) make you look stupid. You don’t have to be arrogant to show you have an opinion – it’s just lazy grandstanding.

9. Check your facts

Check EVERYTHING before you publish – or better still, also get it proofread by a friend. Proper nouns are most important, but also check everything from component numbers to age ranges to turn and round names. Gamers can be a pernickety bunch, but more importantly you should have a sense of pride in your work – else why do it?

10. Be truthful

And one final thing, be honest. This is more likely to come later when you’ve been sent something for free – or something from a friend. The worst thing you can do in this case is be dishonest: you are doing your readers a disservice if you don’t give a stinker both barrels. If it’s that bad, and you don’t want to say so, simply don’t review it.

Choosing creativity over money: One small step…

creativitySo today I got confirmation that my adequate five-day-per-week salary is going to be reduced to a squeeky-bum-time four-day-a-week salary, starting on April 1.

Its going to mean cutting back on luxuries, but you know what? I think it’s for the best. Well, I certainly hope it is – as it was my stupid decision to ask for it in the fist place.

Truth be told, I’m not the well-est person on the planet. Its all my own fault I’m sure, but the net result is I don’t have the energy I once had – and I don’t sleep well (my brain simply doesn’t switch off). The net result is evenings tend to be short-lived things in terms of productivity much of the time, which isn’t much use when you have a hobby such as game design.

So, being the genius I am, I figured one solution would be to give myself an extra day a week: use it to be creative and try to make back a bit of money in the process because you know what? I’d rather have less on the table than think about what might have been.

I recently received an invoice for a payment for Empire Engine (hopefully some actual money will follow reasonably closely behind). It’s not much, but it’s proof I can make a little something out of this. But I feel I need to dedicate some proper ‘9-5’ time to it, so that’s what I’m going to do. Oh my.

Coincidentally, it was great to listen to ‘Mice and Mystics’ designer Jerry Hawthorne on the Plaid Hat Podcast today. That man oozes enthusiasm and I wish I had his drive and dedication – but not at the cost. There he is on the show saying he works two jobs and the only game he’s played in weeks is his own new prototype.

When I get home I usually want to play a good game (or watch TV. Or crash out. Or have a beer and a chin wag. Or play computer games. But then there’s the washing, and the washing up…). I mean I’d back a few of my prototypes to be good games one day, but not tonight! I LOVE playing games, as well as designing them – I want to do both.

Then there’s this website, which I could probably monetise a little. And I should be able to chase down some leads to get some free games to review. And I’ve seriously contemplated writing a book for years now. But when do you have the time? Well, now I have the time. No more excuses.

Something had to give – and frankly, disposable income is the thing I’ll miss least. Thankfully I’m a man of inexpensive tastes and my better half is much the same – time is more important than new this or new that. We’re lucky to be in good jobs in a first world country and I don’t want to take that for granted by wasting it – so I’m taking a little gamble.

Wish me luck, eh? I’ll just pass this hat around.