The Hobby Professional

The common wisdom says that you don't need to monetize your hobbies. This is great advice. More great advice is that you don't need to define success by monetary gain. Another is that you should rely on interior motivation rather than exterior validation. All good stuff. So why am I only interested in designing games that might make money when I am not also hustling to make this a lucrative career within the next five years? Let's talk about the line between professionals and hobbyists. 

Hobbyists create for the fun of it. My friends and acquaintances who are dedicated game design hobbyists might(!) consider signing a game if a publisher sought them out, but they'd have to think about it first. They design to examine the intricacies of systems, and teasing those out is satisfying enough without seeking an audience. One of the members of my local group designed a whole game as a form of feedback for another member's design. 

I'm not going to make a lot of generalizations about professional full-time game designers (the few that exist) other than that they hustle and have a large output of designs in order to maintain an income flow. 

There are two more categories I would add to this list: the professional hobbyist and the hobby professional. The professional hobbyist spends a lot of time and money to make their games looks really nice. This is more commonly seen in other hobbies such as cosplay, where people will spend hundreds of dollars to compete in competitions, where they might recoup the costs if they win. 

Lastly, the hobby professional is where a lot of us are in board game design. We engage with the industry at the professional level. We may have signed a game or two. But there are practical reasons we can't jump in to the hustle of going to all the big cons and pitching in a serious capacity. (Of course, there is a spectrum between "has one game signed" and "full-time designer," but let's look at the extremes for clarity's sake.) 

Granted, anyone still trying to get their first game signed can still be considered on the professional spectrum, if we are defining professional as "interacts with the professional side of the industry." I tend to define professional as "has made any amount of money doing the work," because of my theatre background. But I don't exclude you if you identify as a not-yet-paid professional. 

My main reason for pointing out the existence of the hobby professional is, I believe, the main reason we exist. For us, money is motivating. I tend to have a hard time creating for myself. Even making Christmas gifts or entering design contests can be challenging (both are deadlines I can impose on myself). But when I am working with the goal of receiving payment, even if that day is years off or never comes, I suddenly find the motivation to create. This blog is the only creative thing I've ever stuck to that didn't involve money. 

Some hobby professionals will move on after proving to themselves that they can get one game published. Some are like me and will hang on as long as possible. I really don't appreciate professional advice that is geared only towards the hustlers when there is a whole spectrum of professionals. 

You don't have to produce dozens of new designs a year. You don't have to go to every con. You don't have to hustle. You don't even have to make money. You can engage with the industry at the level you are comfortable at and can afford. Adjust your expectations to be commensurate with your effort and set realistic goals. For most designers, having a hit game cannot be the only measure of success because that's way too discouraging. 

I can't afford a lot of travel. I've had physical and mental health struggles off and on since I started designing games. Now I have an infant. So I am claiming the designation hobby professional. I don't think it makes me less professional; it merely accurately reflects what level I'm currently able to operate at in the industry. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates on Mondays.

The Physical Limits of Creativity

I've written about creative burnout before, but I wanted to discuss a similar issue so that the two don't get confused. 

I gave birth recently. I experienced nausea from the six week point onward in my pregnancy. I don't know if you've ever tried to do anything while seasick, but you basically can't. Since then I've been enjoying the traditional sleep deprivation, also not a recipe for productivity. My point for mentioning this is that this is not burnout. If you are exhausted, sick, or injured, if you are going through a crisis, that is not burnout. 

What's the difference? The advice for burnout is probably not going to help you. Yes, some burnout is so severe that it can take as long to overcome as some illnesses, but the strategies are different. 

So, if you cannot be creative due to life circumstances, what can you do about it?

Be kind to yourself. I didn't playtest a single game for ten months. I'm struggling to make the changes I need to after I managed one playtest. It sucks, but sometimes you just have to recover. 

Don't try to force it. You need a certain amount of mental bandwidth for creativity. I promise your ability to create will be waiting for you when you regain your bandwidth. 

Practice silent free-flowing thought sessions. You may not be able to do much, but chances are you can sit quietly and let your mind wander. These sessions probably won't be productive until you regain your bandwidth, but the practice is good, especially if you don't spend much time with your own thoughts otherwise. 

Enjoy whatever you can. Seriously, you aren't doing what you'd rather be doing, so you might as well enjoy what you can. I watched a lot of food channels on YouTube and read over 200 books on Libby. 

You aren't a failure if your body decides to stop you from designing. You're putting in a different kind of work to one day get back to where you want to be.

I can't tell you how nice it is to get back to a "what I'm thinking about this week" post. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates on weeks when I am less sleep deprived.

The Unintended Audience

When playtesting new games, the question of target audiences comes up regularly. Who is the game for? How can we tailor the game experience to appeal to the target audience? One thing I think about is how can I communicate who should avoid my game. 

I remember one Christmas when I received a DVD movie as a gift and my grandfather insisted we watch it as a family. I tried to explain that while I (as a 20-something) liked the movie, I didn't expect anyone else in my family to enjoy it. Unsurprisingly, no one in my family enjoyed the movie that they insisted we watch over my objections. This experience really taught me about target audiences and properly communicating what your product is. 

As much as I love good art in games, the art needs to match the game experience. The board needs to communicate the game experience. A eurogame still needs to convey the experience of an economic strategy game. A combat game needs to not be mistaken for a children's game. This does not mean that you can't have quirky art or themes in dry/long/heavy games or darker themes or art in light/short games. Root is a good example of a game whose theme and art make the game more approachable without mis-communicating what the game is. Notoriously, Wingspan seems too friendly and approachable to non-gamers. 

A lot of my design process involves managing player expectations. Gamers expect certain things from deck builders or drafting games. Strategy-focused gamers have expectations about replayability. Casual gamers expect welcoming themes to provide fun, easy experiences. We often think about managing the expectations of our intended audience, because they have experience in certain gameplay styles and they will form our core fanbase. However, we need to spare some thought to audiences who might be attracted to our games at first blush, but who may not enjoy the actual product. 

What leads people to buy a game that they thought they would enjoy? How can we manage those expectations? I think one place to start is to recognize who your game might pull in via art and product design (or mechanics or buzzwords) and reflect on what typical expectations those audiences will have. This reflection may lead to two different products, such as a KS version and a Target exclusive (for instance, Spirit Island) or you may decide to change the elements that are leading people to incorrect conclusions about your game. 

One thing to keep in mind is that designer play testers  will not always be helpful in identifying these issues. Hobby game designers like to make suggestions to bring games in line with hobby expectations but  may not key into mass market or casual gamer expectations. You will need to show your game to a variety of audiences (even if you don't play it with them) to see if their expectations match the experience of gameplay. 

Of course, mismanaged expectations can lead to some sales, but they won't do much for word-of-mouth spread of your game. Your game needs to find the people who will love it as efficiently as possible and the best way to do that is for your product to properly communicate what type of experience it contains. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that will update on weeks when I am not as sleep deprived.

A wild update appears!

I'm back! Maybe! No promises!

OK, so I thought I would be able to write more in the past 6 months than I actually could. The good news is that the life event that was occupying all my brain space has abated to only occupying most of it. Which means that I will be easing my way back into board games, blog first. Mostly because my brain feels rusty and I need to get the words flowing so I can get back on my Ludology schedule (I dropped absolutely every obligation in May). 

With that in mind, here's a round-up of my board game related presence beyond this blog:

Thinking Beyond Mechanisms is a recurring monthly segment on Ludology.

Deadly Dowagers has made it to retail in the states and a German version is out.  

Monsters Love Vegas will be launching on kickstarter sometime this year. Give it a follow. 

My book, Thematic Integration in Board Game Design, is currently on sale for 20% off. But if you don't have Building Blocks of Tabletop Game Design yet, buy both to take advantage of Routledge's mid-year sale. If you've already acquired my book, leave a review of it somewhere. 

Upcoming cons: 

I'm not committed to any yet, but I'm most likely to be at or around ATX Protospiel, Tabletop Network, and BGGcon. I'm hoping to expand out to other cons as early as next year, but that remains to be seen. 

Book Announcement

Do you remember that super secret project that caused me to go on hiatus this summer? I'm sure my regular readers will not be surprised to learn that that project was a book on game design theory. Thematic Integration in Board Game Design will be out in January. I'll post again when orders are open. 

In the meantime, what is this book and why would you want it? TIBGD takes my past blog posts on theme and puts them in order, provides additional examples, and fixes my slapdash approach to grammar. (Apparently using 'out' phrases is my thing: suss out, find out, clean out, call out, etc. These have been removed from the text.) The end result is a coherent treatise on what theme is and how it should be approached in board game design. 

If you have received any benefit from this blog at all and were looking for a way to show appreciation, buy this book. Seriously, I have never and will never monetize, advertise, or otherwise try to cash in on what I write here. There may one day be another book, but you should consider this book the only way I may ever see a dime as a theorist. 

That said, I don't believe in paywalls. Don't buy the book if you're happy reading the rough versions of my ideas here for free. There isn't very much there that isn't already on here. (The little that isn't found on the blog comes from other places where I have written or spoken, and those may be harder to find in the future.) 

Now, two more things. 

First: it has come up several times recently that people are mildly shocked when I state that I want to hear more from people who disagree with me. This is even part of my motivation for writing a book: I want my ideas to have enough legitimacy to be disputed. So, once the book comes out if you have opinions about where I went wrong, write about it then drop a comment on the blog so I can find it. I think theme is an important topic and the only way to prove that is if I'm not the only voice talking about it. 

Second thing: I had intentions once the book manuscript was done to devote time to regular blogging. Life recently threw me a curve ball and this post has been almost a month in the making. I have lots of things to write about, but getting the writing done has been absurdly difficult. I imagine that the person most upset about this is me. I can't make any promises about content going forward. However, I will be attempting to maintain a once-a-month schedule over on Ludology if you need a fix.  

This book was one of the most challenging projects I've ever undertaken and I'm absurdly proud of it. At the same time, I've already got ideas for new chapters in a potential future edition. Which will all preview here for free. Thanks for going on this journey with me. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates on infrequent Mondays. 

Communication is a Design Skill

Maybe I'm projecting, but when I sit down to playtest with people who know me from my online presence, I feel like they are invariably disappointed. You could probably read this blog and come away with the impression that I am good at game design, or that having me as a playtester will yield helpful insights. 

The truth is, if I am smart at all, I am only smart about a very narrow band of topics. I have a hard time with rules complexity and strategy as a player, and that comes out in my designs. Fortunately, there are a few things I've gotten better at which make me a more effective designer and playtester.

One thing writing this blog has done is make me a better communicator. I've found this skill helpful when playtesting games by other designers, because I am able to articulate what parts of the game didn't work and why I think they didn't work. As a designer, I'm still working on how I teach my games to playtesters and communicate affordances in the components and rules. Sometimes I succeed better than others. 

The good news is that this is a skill every designer can improve on. We all have our weak areas, but strong communication skills can help us show off our design strengths. A good way to do this is to playtest your rules teach. Learning to give the players the correct amount of information in a useful order will make you a better designer and help you when you go to write your rulebook. 

Playtesting your teach means you have to be comfortable enough with your game rules that you can not only convey them to players, but you really need to be able to simultaneously pay attention to the players to ensure that you are aware of any confusion that occurs. You may want to practice on people you know before practicing your teach on strangers. I'd also recommend being a playtester for designers who have a number of published designs. Pay attention to how they run the playtest. Heck, take notes. 

Another way that communication is important is within the design itself. We talk about player confusion a lot, but another way of describing player confusion is to say that the design is doing a poor job of communicating with the players. You may have found that your design will go through a phase where all you are fixing is graphical issues until you hit a point where players begin having issues with mechanics again. Most players won't be able to give feedback on mechanics when there are glaring usability problems. Eliminating those problems allows the game to communicate better with the players and thus the players are more able to give structural feedback about systems. 

Becoming a better communicator will make you a better designer. All it takes is some practice. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.

More About Rules Complexity

In a previous post, I talked about ways rules complexity can eat away at your complexity budget. I want to delve a little further into my point about memory. 

When I play games with my parents, my father has an especially hard time learning the rules. He doesn't have a lot of experience with board games and only plays them when I am around. There are several lessons about rules complexity that I can glean from trying to teach my dad any number of supposedly gateway games. 

The biggest one is that number of steps matters. Quick turns with fewer distinct action options is by far the best method for lighter weight games. Where I think designers can get tripped up is that we are unconsciously chunking a number of steps into a single unit. Chunking allows experienced gamers to learn games faster when familiar elements are present. However, designers cannot rely on chunking when teaching new players, particularly at the beginning of the game, because every player will have a different set of game experiences to draw from. Instead we must view every mechanism as its component parts. Deck building, for example, is a mechanism that includes card drawing, playing, acquisition, and shuffling. That's a minimum of four steps before you include any other rules. Worse, card shuffling may not occur every turn. Any step that does not occur every turn should be considered higher in memory load than the steps that occur every turn. 

Games where base rules are quite simple and the complexity is revealed via board state or conditions on cards are generally easier on new learners, with some caveats. Number of icons should be considered a part of rules complexity. Each icon is a piece of meaning that has a relationship to the rules that must be memorized (or listed on the player aid). Intuitive icons can decrease rules complexity—like a hammer to represent a building action—but very rarely will this be true of all icons in a game. The worst offenders are space-themed games that have no intuitive icons whatsoever. 

One way to know that you have exceeded your complexity budget is if your intended audience cannot pay attention to their progress toward the endgame because their attention is wholly focused on the procedure of taking each turn as it occurs. Not every game needs to be mastered on a first play, but turn procedure should be sufficiently clear after the first few turns. 

If you are designing for more casual audiences (or looking to reduce memory load), don't hide endgame scoring conditions in the rulebook. Make sure all scoring is represented in some way on the table, even if some conditions are represented by face down cards. Having to check the rulebook to find out who won at the end of a game is a bummer for new and casual players. 

I'm a fan of games that you can learn as you play, especially with casual players who aren't used to a long teach. However, even some casual players would prefer a full rules explanation to just getting started. Either way, reducing memory load is an important design step to making a game easier to learn. And remember that you cannot rely on chunking when writing rules. 

Generally speaking, games have more rules than designers think they do. This affects how easy they are to learn and the overall perceived complexity. Awareness of this issue can help you to tailor your design to your intended audience. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays. 

Nov 12-19 I will be at Tabletop Network and BGGcon in Dallas. Stop by the Unpub room if you're there.