Dodging a Bullet

Layoffs. Failed acquisitions and mergers. IP hung up in limbo as game devs get traded like pogs. The industry is not in great shape in 2024, as the gulf between the C-suite and the actual game developers widens further and further -- games treated as widgets or commodities by people who don't even understand what they're funding, as long as it keeps making them richer and richer...

Yeah, things ain't great. And despite being a game dev I've felt like a perpetual outsider, looking in on this mayhem. But that's entirely by design.

Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time I developed game modules for Neverwinter Nights. It was an implementation of D&D on PCs, a truly robust and featured way to do tabletop gaming experiences -- that's why they were "modules" and not "modifications," because they were user-generated add-ons but also entirely self-contained stories. I got some attention and accolades for making these mods, despite not really being great at the mechanical combat balance, because of my storywriting skills.

BioWare, makers of NWN, took notice. And offered me a job.

Now, I'd been dreaming of working in games since I was a little kid. I'd always assumed I'd go work for Sierra On-line, who forged the golden age of point and click adventure games, but they were gone by that point and BioWare seemed to be the current kings of story-driven games. How could I pass up this opportunity?

And I passed up this opportunity.

Why? Simple.

1. I'd have to move to Edmonton, up in Canada. A frozen hellscape. Icy conditions do not mix with my disability, and I'd be thousands of miles away from my family and other support structures. If anything went wrong I'd be isolated and alone.

2. I'd have to take a 60% pay cut from my job being a web monkey. And being disabled is expensive, even in the Magical Socialist Christmasland of Canada. You have to stock up in case your body decides one day "Nah, dawg, you busted and done."

3. By this point my eyes were open to how wildly unstable the game industry is. Even in the mid-2000s it was clear you'd be changing jobs every half-year, downsized, moved, shuffled, and constantly looking for work. BioWare felt like a juggernaut but even they could fall, and then I'd be broke and stuck in Canada (see points 1 and 2) and looking for another job. This was before remote work was commonplace, too.

In the end, I valued stability and safety. I regretted passing up the risk, and it haunted me for some time -- this would be my ONE SHOT at making games professionally, right?

...and then years later, Arcade Spirits happened. And now I'm making games professionally and I didn't have to throw myself into the storm of cruelty the game industry was and has become even moreso today.

I dodged a bullet. At the time it felt like I was passing up my dream, losing my one shot, but in the end I dodged a bullet.

At this point I can't recommend the game industry for anyone wanting to get in on it. As it stands it's unsustainable and may very well collapse -- not the 1983 crash again, but I could see AAA publishers sinking into oblivion and entire studios folding for years to come. 

If you want to make games, accept a smaller scale of ambition, and just make personal projects. It's the only way to make this happen on your own terms without embracing the sadness and the madness.