Last Sunday, as I flew home from the Game Developers Conference, an amazing week of learning, networking, inspiration, and camaraderie, I was excited about applying my newfound knowledge to my job as a producer at EA Salt Lake. I had split my time between the production, design, and business tracks, each of which provided several valuable insights that will help me do a better job both today and down the road. But while I was looking forward to the future of the game industry and to my future in it, I couldn’t help but look back as well. So in this column, I will compare my very first GDC in 2006 to my most recent GDC just over a week ago.
When I reminisce about GDC ‘06, one phrase that leaps to mind is “the stink of desperation”; the distinctive calling card of the job-seeker. When standing in line after a typical GDC session, he’s the one giving himself the internal pep talk in the anxious moments leading up to his well-rehearsed, high-stakes elevator pitch. As each person in line shakes the speaker’s hand and exits stage right, causing the line to shuffle ever-so-slightly forward, the tension mounts. This short conversation may just be the key to the job-seeker shoving his foot in the game industry door. Why do I mention this? As a producer at Electronic Arts, I am not currently seeking gainful employment. However, four years ago, that fragrantly desperate guy was me.
After finishing my MBA at Kellogg, I had designs on a career in high-tech marketing. Alas, the dot-com bubble burst not only the scores of recklessly inflated stock valuations, but also the best-laid plans of many newly-minted MBAs with an eye toward Silicon Valley. To make a long story short, I took a sales job that didn’t agree with me, during which I injured my back, and then while recovering I began a new plan to ensure that when I was finally healthy I would have a career that made me excited to go to work every morning. Oh yes, it would be mine.
Two-plus years and one healthy back later, I arrived in San Jose for GDC '06 as a writer for GameDaily, where I wrote a column about kid-friendly games, and as an adjunct faculty member at Westwood College, where I taught a course on the history of the video game industry. However, while that got me inside the joint, my main career goal – to be a producer – was yet unfulfilled.
I walked through the doors of the San Jose Convention Center, determined to make as many connections as possible that might lead to the career I sought. So naturally, I brought a big honkin’ stack of baseball cards along for the ride. No, that’s not a typo. Shortly before GDC, I ordered a set of business cards that were designed in the iconic style of baseball cards (photo and title on the front, mini-resume on the back).
Each time I presented someone with one of my cards, it was enough to buy me a few precious moments of real attention, and even the occasional cartoon-esque double take. For a job seeker, that kind of mindshare amidst a sea of eager networkers was priceless, and it made the follow-up e-mail after the conference that much easier and more effective.
But as valuable a gimmick as those cards were – four years later people still remember them – nothing beats having someone on the ‘inside’ who believes you’re worth the investment of their time and energy. For me, that person, who has an impressive network of friends in the industry, was someone I’d met the year before. Now don’t get me wrong: I made many terrific connections all by myself, thank you very much, but without her, I would have missed out on my most memorable experiences of that week.
She introduced me to an industry legend, which was pretty freaking cool in and of itself. Back in 2006, it was all he could do not to talk about an exciting new project he had recently started working on (later revealed to be a highly-publicized game based on a well-known IP). But what elevated this encounter from the freaking cool to the truly memorable was that it took place right around dinnertime, so when the group that included several gaming luminaries headed out into the San Jose night in search of vittles, I had the distinct privilege of tagging along.
Part of me was in the moment, enjoying the relaxing fun of breaking bread with a group of intelligent, creative people. The other part of me was frustrated that the experience was colored by the fact that everyone else around the table was already excelling at what I aspired to do. So as I tucked into my cheese enchiladas, it occurred to me that I was both an insider and an outsider at the same time; the insider was enjoying a chill evening, while the outsider was trying not to come across as too much of a sycophantic fanboy.
In addition to networking, I was at GDC '06 to cover the kid-friendly games angle for GameDaily. As you can see if you click on this link to that column, among the games I reviewed was Cloud, the USC student game that launched trailblazing, mood-altering, genre-bending, Game-Developers-Choice-Award-winning developer thatgamecompany. It also turns out that the Digipen student who demoed another game for me is currently a fellow developer at EA Salt Lake, and we’ve worked together on several game teams. And that is but one of several similar examples. So even as I was trying to break into the industry, I was already crossing paths with the people with whom I make games today.
2 Comments
March 27, 2010
Great read about your time at GDC. I love the title of this article. I can't help but feel a pinch for missing this year's GDC and getting a first hand sniff of how the industry is dealing with this shift of a lot of attention to casual gaming.
Out short acquaintance leaves me with no doubt that you will some day speak at GDC, and that when that day comes, you will give every person who approaches you your fullest attention.
March 29, 2010
Wow, what an entertaining and articulately written article, and one with some genuine heart to it! I love GDC as much for the giving as for the gaining. There should be no fear in being generous. If those of us who are veterans will pass on as much as we can to as many as we can - whether from the rostrum in a speech, or in the many corridors and street corner encounters that pepper such gatherings - only good can come of it. What goes around comes around. A rising tide lifts all boats. And so on. Good on you Dan for making that case in such a nostalgic, compelling and imminently readable way!