Self-promotion and anxiety: Uncomfortable bedfellows

for me, self-promotion and anxiety don’t mix. I’m chatty. Opinionated. Sometimes loud. If you met me you’d possibly think I was super confident. But by then the difficult bit has happened: we’ve met.

It’s hard for some to grasp there’s a big difference between having the confidence to dominate conversation, and the initial hump of meeting new people. Or even thinking about meeting them. Or thinking about the fact you might have to meet some people in a few day’s time.

Recently I went to HandyCon, a board game convention just outside London. I hadn’t been before, but new it was a few hundred people – not too big. So I thought I’d take along some of my published designs, just in case people wanted to take a look. Just the recent ones. So I could have them on the table, just in case. Or maybe in my bag. Or I could just leave them in the hotel room, and bring them the next day if anyone asked…

The day before it starts, I get asked to help judge a competition at the con. Someone has dropped out – can I stand in? It’ll only be an hour. Sure, why not? It’s nice to be asked. And it’s only an hour. An hour I have no control over, in a few days time, where I don’t really know what is going to happen or with who. Will it be on a stage? Is my name going to be read out? Will people be staring at me? Why on earth did I agree to this…

Increased heart rate. Difficulty breathing. Headaches and hot flushes. Dry mouth and feeling sick. Why not have a few drinks? I’ll feel like I’ve got a hangover either way.

Then and now

What’s really annoying is knowing how much I would’ve taken this in my stride 10 years ago. I was brash, confident; loved being the centre of attention. As a youngster I had a mohican, crazy clothes. I did national radio interviews as part of my job. Now I can’t sleep for three days before running a course for a few colleagues I already know. Even going to the office and staying all day can be hard sometimes.

I’m OK walking into most cons (see previous cons and anxiety post). The anonymity works in my favour. They’re largely filled with people who know each other; who just like the idea of getting together to game. Most don’t aim to play with strangers. They’re happy to just meet a few more people, relax, and nerd out. And that means you can stroll around relatively ignored. But at the same time, you know these are your people.

But that all goes away if you make your face a target. Luckily, game designers are largely ignored unless they seek attention. It’s the YouTubers who get all the attention, with panels packed with v-loggers hunting for views and likes while the designers tend to skulk around awkwardly in the halls smiling nervously. But yeah, I’m a blogger too. So surely I should be doing all this self promotion stuff in double time. Gawd.

Self-promotion and anxiety sucks…

So things start OK. I send a few messages out, a few Tweets, saying I’ll be at HandyCon. Reply to a few things about the event, mention I’ll be there with a few games. But the closer we get to the con the less I message, until the social stream becomes a trickle and dries up altogether.

Others talk about demoing games, maybe hiring a table. Sitting at a table, for hours, smiling at people hoping they’ll sit down. And then hoping they like your game. And deep down, I know it would be fine. They’d be nice, polite, even if they didn’t like it. Who knows, some might even become friends or pick up a copy. But i’m getting a dry throat and shortness of breath just typing this, so it was never, ever going to happen.

I took my games to HandyCon. Day one they were on the table, day two in a friend’s room, and day three on a chair next to me, safely away from prying eyes. One even got played, with friends who had played it before. I played pretty much everything else I brought except my own games.

Thankfully the judging was low key, my name was never mentioned and it went without a hitch. A skinful the night before meant I did get some sleep. It was either booze or tablets; and a few beers has a more desired effect.

…but it’s really fun to make stuff

One mental faculty I still have intact is a thick skin. You need it as a journalist, and others deserve to give what I’ve been giving my whole life. If you don’t like my game, and give it a shitty review because you hated it, that’s your right. I’ll walk away. Yeah, sure – it might rile me for a few minutes. Especially if the negatives are based on arguments I find ridiculous. But 99 times in 100 I’ll quickly get over it and move on.

And it’s brilliant to meet people that like your games. Or that just want to talk design. Or that have enjoyed something I wrote here – or want to argue with me about something. If you’ve ever loved/enjoyed/been perplexed by/disagreed with anything I’ve done, I’d love to have a chat with you at a con. I just probably won’t radiate it much. If at all.

Because all these things make it worthwhile. But they don’t make it easy.

Europe Divided: Walking a euro/war game design tightrope

Blending elements across genres is an interesting route to take when searching for originality. But it can be difficult to get the balance right. I thought I’d talk a little about what David Thompson and I ended up with in Europe Divided; our upcoming post-Cold War euro/war game, which is currently on Kickstarter.

David is a fan of both war and euro games. With Europe Divided, he brought me on board a way down the design line. He knew I was big into euro games, so hoped I could give a little insight from a non-war game perspective. Check out the design diary for the full skinny; I just want to talk about the process of blending two genres into a cohesive whole. And which will hopefully keep fans of both genres happy!

What makes a war game

History, theme and simulation are words you’ll come across a lot in the war game field. In general a degree of historical accuracy is a must, which brings the theme with it. And simulation is similarly common, with anything from a squad battle to dogfight to complete battle or even way being recreated to varying levels of detail.

This naturally creates asymmetry, as war gamers tend to enjoy pitting themselves against relatively accurate historical scenarios with clear objectives. So you may find to ‘win’, a player needs to hold a position for X turns. They wouldn’t go on to win in the traditional sense, but that’s not the point. By holding on for this long, they equalled or did better than the real-life forces from history.

What makes a euro game

The euro gamer is a different beast. They’re looking for balanced play (although asymmetry is welcomed), and multiple paths to victory (rather than a set scenario). For this reason, themes tend to be ‘pasted on’, with players trying to solve the puzzle the game confronts them with on even terms. And they often prefer indirect conflict (such as denial/blocking of actions or areas) with no player elimination.

For this reason, euro players tend to much prefer input, rather than output, randomness; while many war gamers seem happy with both. Input randomness is where a random event happens, them players work out the best way to deal with it via set game mechanisms. Output randomness is where players set themselves up to do something; and then whether they succeed is determined randomly.

Europe Divided: For the war gamer…

for the average war gamer, I think (and hope) Europe Divided ticks most of the preferred boxes. David has been working as a Department of Defence Analyst throughout most of the period the game is set: 1992 to the present day. All the cards in the game are based on actual events and include historical flavour text. Players are simulating the ebb and flow of political influence and troop movements throughout the period, meaning the game is full of theme and has the feel of a political simulation.

There’s also asymmetry, with an eye on historic simulation. The EU/NATO player starts cash rich, but juggling a lot of countries (a large starting deck of cards) – many of which aren’t members of both organisations. So some cards can’t be used for certain actions (you can’t use the Sweden card to do a NATO action, for example) – while some countries are weak, clogging up your hand. On the flip side, Russia has less income and a poorer starting position – but its cards represent parts of the nation’s machine (the president, oil industry, media etc). It has a smaller deck of well-balanced cards, that refreshes rapidly – meaning it is more likely to be able to act quickly to achieve its goals.

…and the euro player

But fans of euro games will be pleased to hear both players have the same goal (the most victory points); which is achieved in the same way: making historical events happen at the right time, and by maintaining dominance over Eastern European countries at key points in the timeline. At the end of around half the 20 turns in a game, events (chosen by the players) will be checked – and points awarded to the relevant player if the conditions have been met. For example, the Russia player will score a point for ‘Cyberwarfare Waged on Estonia’ if – when checked – they have more influence in The Baltics than their opponent.

We worked hard to make the two sides feel different to play, while keeping a balance between the them overall. The EU/NATO player starts out strong but will often start to struggle as they try to keep so many plates spinning; while the Russia player can stabilise their poor starting position and come on strong later in the game. It’s all part of that puzzle euro players love: is it better to maximise your points, or deny points to your opponent? Do you spend big and try to overwhelm with military strength; or flood the board with influence to prepare for later conflicts?

And don’t be put off by all those dice! Their used to mark influence, not roll for attacks. The only real luck in the game is in the card draw (which usually works out in a balanced way by the end), while there’s no actual combat. Units placed will simply cancel each other out in locations. Sure, it’s conflict – but as a euro fan it feels like the kind of conflict I’m used to (abstracted and predictable). Finally, raising influence to complete goals will end up giving you the card for that country. This deck-building element will be familiar – but here, these cards tend to weaken your deck rather than enhance it; giving more weight to the decisions you take.

Europe Divided on Kickstarter

If Europe Divided sounds like it might be of interest, please check the game out now on Kickstarter (the campaign runs until June 26). Publisher Phalanx has done a fantastic job in terms of components and development, so I’m super excited ab out the final product. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them here.

Friday feelings: Twilight Imperium – different edition, same mistakes

I recently watched the Twilight Imperium (TI4) documentary (Space Lions) with a mixture of wonder, sadness and frustration. It was nice to see the Shup Up & Sit Down guys turn their clear talent for content creation away from their opinions (shonky at best) to ‘real’ tele. Bravo, chaps – seriously professional job. But boy, did it lift the lid on what (many people presumed) happens over at Fantasy Flight Games.

Having played TI3 a few times I was interested to see what would change in this new edition. But as I watched the game’s history play out, right back to first edition prototypes, I lost all hope. And looking at comparison videos of the new edition, those fears were confirmed. History is, once again, repeating itself.

I believe TI4 is more streamlined, a little shorter, a bit more accessible etc. But two tragic things struck me as a I watched. Firstly, how insular this firm really is. And second, how that seems to be stunting the game; and the company’s ability to fix mistakes it is making again and again.

Twilight Imperium: Testing with the wrong people?

In Space Lions the developers state, proudly, they have a dedicated fan base ready and willing to test new editions of the game. Which seems a strange brag, as one of the first things I was told as a designer (and still pass on now) was this. Asking your friends’ opinions about a prototype won’t get the answers you need. They like you and they’re not experts. What you need is people who will be critical, preferably from a wide range of design perspectives.

So, what we end up with in Twilight Imperium, over and again, are Groundhog Day style bad moves. And I’m not talking about ‘theme’. I love the fact each race has a backstory and the universe has rich and detailed lore. I’m talking game play and design – and really basic stuff. White text on black cards. Tiny fonts. Lack of useful iconography. Terrible overuse of language, both on cards and in the rules. There are so many more.

But they have that core audience that thinks ‘experience’ first. They happily make house rules to fix the game’s problems. They don’t mind playing a game for 10 hours, where they in fact only did a few things that influenced the actual winning of the game. And when presented with a new version, they don’t notice the basic flaws (that put the rest of us off) because they’ve gotten used to them in previous editions.

The best of all board game design problems

But ultimately, why would Fantasy Flight care? Its other properties make many of the same mistakes: Arkham Horror, Fallout, Discover etc. But they all sell in their thousands. It’s doing enough right to keep its core audience happy, and that core audience is larger than many. So, I expect we’re doomed to see more of this going forward. Or are we?

It was refreshing to see Fantasy Flight release an incredibly streamlined product last year with KeyForge. Here it went outside its usual design/dev pool to Richard Garfield: a man who knows his onions when it comes to simplifying the game experience without losing depth of play. Easy rules, great use of iconography – everything made sense. I’m surprised he wasn’t laughed out of the building!

Here’s hoping Fantasy Flight Games will recognise this chink in its armour and exercise a bit more basic design savvy on its bigger properties moving forward. It wouldn’t lose anything from what it has now, so what’s not to like? I love the occasional game of Eldritch, or Fallout, or Mansions of Madness. But I could, and would love, to love them so much more.

Friday feelings: Computers, AI and board game design

I’m a bit of a Luddite. While I embrace the internet I have no real interest in the zeros and ones in the background – or the scary world of ‘big brother’ AIs.

While I understand computers have huge potential in gaming, I have little interest in exploring these avenues myself. So, will I be left behind? Or worse, has it already happened?

My last published game, Witless Wizards, has a great Tabletopia page done by Drawlabs. While my friend and co-designer David Thompson always creates versions of his prototypes on Tabletop Simulator. These are clearly brilliant for both prototyping pre-publication and publicising post-publication. I’m happy to play on them. But you won’t find me delving into the back-end of them myself.

AI and board game design

Where these platforms really come into their own is big data. I know, for example, CGE ran some serious algorithms to balance factions in its asymmetric abstract game Tash-Kalar. What better way to supplement more emotional human testing than via machine?

You can also see AI and board game design going hand-in-hand simply storing data on matches played. I’m sure Feuerland Spiel used the data from thousands of online plays of Terra Mystica to help them balance factions in expansions and in Gaia Project, for example. While data from the online implementation of CGE’s Through the Ages clearly influenced changes in second edition, A New Story of Civilisation.

I’m not alone…

In a recent survey, (which I spoke about recently on the topic of Kickstarter) 33% of ‘product professionals’ listed their biggest fear as new technology stifling creativity. Look at Tash-Kalar, for example. While I enjoyed the game for a while it was just too dry to fall in love with. Too precise. Might the game have been more popular if those rough edges hadn’t been smoothed away?

Also in the survey, ‘AI and predictive tech’ was listed as the second most desirable technological advancement for those same retail product professionals (40%). We’re clearly a divided market, with as many creatives fearing AI as wanting to embrace it. But I take solace in the fact it was beaten into second place by 3D printing (46%).

What are your thoughts on AI and board game design? I’d be fascinated to hear from those working on digital platforms, where many analogue games now appear in digital form. And where digital games that could’ve been analogue are constantly updated and amended, presumably via big data feedback.

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.