Don't Repeat Yourself

When making Indie games, there's a mantra that bears repeating over, again and again:

“Don't Repeat Yourself”

It's actually a corruption of a much deeper truth. If software development excites you, I urge you to read all the gory details about that deeper truth over on wikipedia. (If you want to go read it now, I'll still be here when you get back.)

When making Indie Games, however, “Don't Repeat Yourself” means something different. It's rooted in the notion that (calender) time is the most precious resource. It's the free variable with the highest opportunity cost. The longer amount of time it takes you to do something directly translates into a lesser amount of time you could be working on your next goal.

So what happens if you have to repeat a previous step? Replace an image that's no longer working? Change a sound effect? Rebuild a level? What happens when you have to repeat yourself?

For every repeat, the time you wisely invested into the previous version of that asset is effectively wasted.

You would have been better off using that initial time reading game development blogs. Or meditating. Or playing Dino Switch II.

So what does "Don't Repeat Yourself" really mean? It means that as an Indie, (almost) every piece of content you put time into, needs to ship at some point in the future. It means that each time you touch an asset, you should treat it as the last time you'll touch it before it ships.

Your asset pipeline (as an Indie) needs to go :

Concept -> Placeholder -> Shippable Asset

Cappucino

Contrast that with the apocryphal AAA game producer, “Make three cappucinos... then bring me the best one!”

Of course, what he really means is “Have three baristas separately make three different cappuccinos... then discard the two which aren't as good.”

So here's a Pop-Quiz, are those two discarded cappuccinos wasted?

Some would say “Yes”, referring to the ingredients and skill which went into the preparation of content which will never be consumed.

Others would say “No”, because the producer couldn't know ahead of time which barista would prepare the best coffee. Three times the amount of resources have gone into the production, in exchange for an improvement in quality and a substantially reduced chance (risk) of getting a bad coffee.

Don't Repeat Yourself

As an Indie, where (calendar) time is the most precious resource, “Don't Repeat Yourself” means shipping every piece of content you produce. If you somehow find yourself with 3 cappuccinos, then you're going to be drinking them all!

But does that also mean you need to ship the pieces which didn't work out? Not at all. Because the overarching process goes like this:

• Get placeholder assets for everything into the game

• Without repeating yourself, systematically lift every asset in the game up to shippable quality.
  (Upon completion, your game as a whole ought to be shippable)

• Do a polish pass where you replace only the assets which are (a) quick to improve, (b) have a big impact on quality

• Ship it

And that's indie game development...

Launch: Dino Switch II

The MissingBytes Blog is very proud to announce the launch of Dino Switch II, available today for iPhone, iPod touch and iPad!

It's a free download from the Apple App Store, so what are you waiting for?

Download it today!

Release

These days, everybody seems to be asking me, "When is your game going to be done?" or even more bluntly, "When is it going to be finished?"

In complete sincerity, I don't actually mind the question.  It's perfectly natural for people to be curious.  But there's a deep assumption underlying that question that I really struggle with.  It's the idea that a game might ever be finished.


You see, back in the "packaged goods era", we used to make video games (i.e. software) that would be burnt into silicon ROM chips, or etched onto optical discs.  This media would then be wrapped in alternating layers of plastic and cardboard, and ultimately stickered and sold at an outrageous mark-up at a magical place called the "point of sale".

Back in the old days, it made sense.  We talked about finishing games, sometimes even had to rush them, to get them on time to that magical faraway land - the "point of sale", where they could be released.

  I like to live in more modern times.

These days, when a game is ready, it is "Launched."  Much like a ship on its maiden voyage on the open ocean, a game is launched onto the open internet, into unfamiliar territory.  There will be changes.  There will be problems.  Maybe even icebergs.  When we come across these unknowns, we are no longer surprised. We take them in our stride and carry on.

More important than that, and just like the ship on its maiden voyage, there will be an ongoing dialogue between the new captains and the old owners.  And that dialogue will evolve and change over time.

Launch

The biggest difference between Releasing a game and Launching a game is that somebody still cares.  Long after that initial purchase is made.

In this brave new online world, as long as you're still playing my game, as its creator, I still have an obligation to listen to your opinions.

So when someone asks me, "When is your game going to be finished?" what I'm hearing in my head is, "When are you going to be finished with your game?" i.e. "When are you going to stop caring about your players?"

And the answer to that is "Never."

Beta

In the world of stuff, there's things that you know, and things that you don't know.  It can sometimes feel like all of us are simply questing to try and know more and more stuff.

But there's another way of looking at the world of stuff.  We can also split stuff into the things that other people know, and also things that other people don't know.  It can sometimes be confusing thinking about what other people know.  Fortunately we live in a social world so we should all be good at it.

In any case, Mathematicians, like me, sometimes like to use Venn Diagrams to describe these kinds of relations:

We can then build fun subcategories, like "Secrets", which contains all the stuff that we know, but that noone else does.

Or "The unknown" - that's all the stuff that noone knows about.  Yet.

But there's another interesting subcategory that I wanted to talk about today.  I'm sure there's a great German word for this category, but I don't think it has a name in English. It's that category of stuff that other people know (about us), but that we don't know about ourselves.  It's all the stuff like:

• What does the back of my head look like?
• What was everyone laughing about just before I walked in to the room?
• Why do I always struggle to open doors?

And the all-consuming:

• Does this pair of jeans make my anorak look out of proportion?

Even in principle, this stuff is unknowable to us. Why? Because even if we were to ask a trusted friend, there's a complex web of social contracts which ensures the information they relay to us be 100% believable, yet have no basis whatsoever in reality.

Beta Testing

When we're making video games, there's a number of tools we can use to improve the quality of the game prior to launch.  One of the most useful is Beta Testing.  Of course, we do all manner of testing when making video games, but Beta Testing is the one which can really make or break a game.

In a true Beta-Test, all of the intended features are actually present in the game in a playable state.  It might even be one of the first builds where this is true.  The game is then played by people who are outside of the development team.

In a (true) Beta-Test, it's the development team looking for feedback about all the stuff that other people know.


So if you're ever asked to Beta Test some software, what does that look like?


Well first things first, remember the social contract?  That's not what a Beta Test is about.  The dev team isn't looking for praise or apologies, they want solid, genuine feedback about the features in the game. Be that an emotional response ("it felt great when..."), or something actionable ("I couldn't reach the exit because...")

Naturally they're looking for confirmation about the stuff they (think they) already know, so be sure to include some high level comments about the stuff that seems obvious to you, the stuff that "...everybody knows...."

More valuable to the dev team is going to be feedback about stuff they don't know.  Try and tell them about the bugs that only you encountered.  Try and share anecdotes that are relevant, but that will be unknown to the dev team.  Try and give them access to the areas they can't otherwise see.

The Beta Blog Post

So all of this is stuff that I know, and after reading though, now it's stuff that you know too.  I happen to think this is important stuff that everyone should know, but I may be in the minority on that one.

However, there is a chance that this blog post contains serious defects.  For example, I know that this post still has lots of room for improvements.

For that reason, I'm officially declaring this blog posting to be a "Beta Blog Post".  What that means is, I think it contains most of the good ideas, but there might be stuff about this topic that I don't know (yet) or haven't covered adequately.

Why not help me out and use the comments section below to give me some feedback, maybe an emotional response, or even something actionable?   ;)

The Big Picture

"It's just behind that one over there!"

I always have this kind of mental picture in my head about all the things that need to happen before I can launch a game.

It's filled with lots of tiny little things :

• Putting in a 'squish' sound when you press a button on the main menu. (5 minutes)
• Re-export a piece of artwork with different quality settings. (10 minutes)
• Building out the website with a FAQ section. (15 minutes)

For each one of those little user stories, I'm thinking : "Oh, I can do that, that's easy."

There's also a whole bunch of medium sized things :

• Make the draw routines faster so it doesn't skip quite so much. (1 hour)
• Add a 'Load' screen to, umm, cover the loading. (1.5 hours)
• Make the 'Undo' button work properly. (2 hours)

I guess if I had to, I could cut those user stories, but in the back of my head I'm thinking, "Oh, I know how to do that too, it's not that hard..."


Of course, there's a whole bunch of difficult things to do too, but even those I'm not too worried about.  I know in principle that they're solvable, and I've solved similar tricky problems in the past.

The problem comes when I try and find all the things that need to happen before I can launch a game, and then add up how much time it is going to take to get all of those things done.  It's a huge chunk of time. It can be a little daunting.

The Plan

My original plan was to have an app out on the appstore by now.  So I guess that didn't happen :)

But I hope you'll allow me the indulgence of quoting former US president, Dwight D. Eisenhower:

         "Plans are worthless, but planning is everything."

The easy thing to do right now would be to just keep chipping away at the original plan.  I am making good progress after all, even if there has been considerable discovered work.  It definitely feels like I'm getting closer to something.

"... That one over there looks easier to get to..."

But maybe there's a smarter way through here.  Maybe I can find a smaller game to make.  One that I can launch sooner.  Something to at least establish a presence, and then use that as a base to launch bigger games.

...hmmmm...

What would you do in this situation? Any advice? What do you think I should do?

    ... watch this space ...

Officespace

What makes a great work environment?

I've had a lot of time to think about this one over the years, mostly when working in cramped, overcrowded, smelly, noisy, unsafe or otherwise distasteful locales.

I always used to think it would be in a context of setting up my own team in a new office.  Now that I've gone Indie, that's still true, but it's a team of one.

Space

The most critical element in the work environment is space.  You need enough space to have all your working equipment easily accessible.  I like to have everything already plugged in and ready to go, but switched off at the wall.  And don't forget to move around and stay active, so I've setup a typing station, a coffee station, a thinking station, a reading station, a print/scan/copy station, an audio recording station etc, etc,  each already prepared for a particular type of activity.

If you're a fan of John Cleese, you'll know that low ceilings encourage closed thinking modes, and high ceilings facilitate open thinking modes.  Factor that in the next time you book a meeting room for a brainstorming session (high ceiling) or triage session (low ceiling).

Time

How many times have you heard, "It's done when it's done!"

For many creative tasks, you can estimate how long something will take, but not very accurately.  I find it useful to work in blocks of around ~2 hours. I pick a task I think will take an hour to do, and work on it, until it's done.  If there's still 2 hours left before the next planned disruption, I'll pick another ~1 hour task, and work on that.

It's crucial to finish every day with a win.  Ernest Hemmingway says it much better than I ever could:

"The best way is always to stop when you are going good and when you know what will happen next. If you do that every day … you will never be stuck. "

Some employers believe in billing for hours worked, and still others believe in crunch.  If you're in a creative industry and you're being micro-managed like that, and want to have a career rather than a burn-out,  I strongly recommend considering your options.

Location

The day doesn't stop when you walk out of your office.  You still need to get home (or to the gym, or to the pool, etc)  How much is that commute costing you in terms of money, time and stress?  Is the parking lot safe? Can you even find a park when you need to? Can you commute when it's raining/snowing without getting wet?

Working from home is great, but be sure to separate work from home with a doorway or even a staircase.

If you're forced to reuse equipment, then create separate user accounts, facebook accounts, email accounts etc, and be sure to log in and out every time you transition from home to work and vice versa.

If you're a real digital nomad, why not setup separate home and work environments on different USB sticks using portable apps?

Ergonomics

There's a lot of literature about setting up your chair, desk, keyboard, monitor for comfort and usability.  It really does make a difference.  If you're still a skeptic (like I was up until recently), just try it for a week.  If you don't see an improvement, you can always go back to your old bad habits.

...And don't be shy, help out a neighbor.  If you see a colleague struggling with RSI, or squeezed in to the wrong sized chair, bring it up, maybe it's something you can help with.

Sound

Headphones are not enough.  You need a reasonably quiet, connected space.  We humans are social animals, so complete silence can be too isolating.  We need to feel connected with our colleagues, and with the wider environment too, but not distracted from the task at hand.

Oh, and a pet-peeve of mine, a place to take private phone calls.  I hate reciting credit card numbers in a hallway frequented by programmers with eidetic memories.

What else?

What makes your work environment great?  How could it be even better?

Status: Blocked

I'm blocked.

It's not writer's block. It's a different kind of blocked, one that's considerably harder to unblock.

Efficiency and Effectiveness

When measuring (or estimating) the output of a team, it's sometimes convenient to look at two different axes:

• Efficiency - How much work/effort/resources are expended to produce a given amount of output. 

• Effectiveness - How much output is produced in a given amount of calendar time.

Our natural instinct is to try and optimize efficiency, trying to reduce the cost.  Or alternatively, increasing output for the same amount of fixed cost.

I'm not sure this is the best strategy when it comes to video games. The market moves so fast, I think it makes more sense to push for more effectiveness - maximizing the output per unit of calender time, while staying within our cost constraints.

Diurnal Cycles

I find that at different times of the day, I'm better at certain types of tasks. Sometimes more analytical, other times more integrative. Sometimes more strategic. Some times of the day are better suited to striking new ground, and others are better for polishing and evaluating existing work.

With this in mind, I keep a number of different lists, each based around a type of work. For example, when I have all the microphones and speakers setup to do audio work, I want to get as much done as possible (efficiency), but I also want to make progress on my current goals (effectiveness).

Keeping these in balance is essential, and I allocate up to 20% of my time just in planning and co-ordination to ensure that I'm working on the right things at the right time.

Transition

But the problem I'm facing right now is a shortage of time. I'm currently in the process of moving home from one continent to another, so I'm averaging maybe 10-30 minutes per day for productive work. Compounding this, most of my equipment is in transit and won't be available until late August.

Sharpening the Tools

So what do you work on, when you can't make progress on your goal?

You sharpen your tools – get the latest versions of your software, defrag the hard drive, verify your backup procedures are working. All the things you won't have time to do later.

I know a lot of my friends out there in corporate land are currently caught between changing requirements, and now is your opportunity to do the same thing too. Sure you could sit around and play video games all day, but maybe now is the time to finally learn python? Or figure out rigging? Or fix the ergonomics on your monitor, keyboard and chair?

How do you remain effective, even when you can't be efficient?

Finding The Fun

When making a game, one of the things I like to do early, and often, is 'finding the fun'.  It's the process where you take a long hard look at your game to answer one simple question:

"What makes it fun?"

What is fun? How do we know when we've found it? I struggle with these kinds of questions because I don't play games the same way gamers do.  I'm a deconstructivist.  I tear games apart trying to understand how they were made, what were their authors motivations, what choices and alternatives did they shy away from?  That's fun for me, but I don't think that's much fun for you.

So instead, I hand a prototype of my game over to a gamer, and I watch them play. Mostly I'm looking for facial expressions - joy, wonder. But also their comments. What do they keep coming back to? If I'm trying to 'find the fun', I pretty much ignore all negative feedback, and just focus on the good.

One question I ask a lot is, "How could I make that part better?"  When I ask that question, what I'm really asking is, "What part of that do you want more of?"  If I hear multiple people want more of one thing, then I'll go and brainstorm about how to add more of that thing, using the actual gamers suggestions as a starting point for the brainstorm.

A Quick Note On Design Styles

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you'll know I'm a pretty hard-core programmer that's been fortunate enough to work with a great many super talented designers.  I've found they tend to have different styles and approaches.  Some, like me, are obsessed with finding the fun.  Others are much more interested in telling a story, or bringing the player along an emotional path.  Still others want to make elaborate systems for the player to explore, requiring a delicate zen moment on the player's behalf to catch glimpses of it's beauty.

And many others besides.

It's convenient for me to split designers into two camps - those who try to find the fun earlier, and those who are confident with their tools and process, and know the fun will come later.

Take a character designer for example, often in the second camp.  Someone who is building up the backstory for a character, figuring out their traits and abilities in-game.  Where they got that scar, and who was their childhood friends, and how all of that will affect their interactions with the player.  In isolation, these choices might seem meaningless and trivial, but when woven into a broader narrative, this minutiae can become intensely compelling and enjoyable.

Now, I'm not saying either camp is more or less effective. There's definitely room for both.  I'm just saying I find it more comfortable to follow along with the first camp as I find reassurance in their processes' measurability measurableness ability to be measured.

Which is important, because as a programmer, when I'm designing, I'm constantly have to ask myself, "What would [censored] choose in this situation?"

One advantage from working closely with so many designers, is the freedom to design in the style of those great designers.  I'm not stuck in any one particular school or with any baggage.

And now that I'm Indie, when I don't know the answer, I can just call them up on the phone and ask.

Before the Prototype

The approach above works fine when you have a prototype.  But what do you do before that?

Cardboard is great for this.

Scribble on cardboard, chop it up into pieces and move it around a page.

Make flowcharts, roll dice.  Get some trusted friends over and say "Hey, let's pretend we're playing a video game right now."  And you go through the exact same (watching) process outlined above, but without the actual prototype.

Before the Cardboard

Well that may be fine if you know what game you want to make, but what do you do before that?
Here's where you have to use the power of imagination.

 That's where I'm at right now.

I'm imagining what it would be like for my trusted friends to be playing a cardboard cutout of a prototype of a final game.  And then asking my imaginary designer buddies in my head :

"What makes it fun?"