<h1>Industry Standards</h1>
You wake up just like any other day. The sun beams into your over-priced studio apartment you share with your roommate, causing you to roll over on the bedding to wake up your labtop. It seems just as relunctant to wake up as you are. Luckily, however, it manages to run [[PolyMod3D]] and [[Sickle]] within reason; you really wish you had gotten that scholarship last semester so you could afford a better machine.
As an aspiring student at DigiSail U, your dream career as the next big-shot game designer feels well within reach! You just finished the final touches on your Atomic-Weight 2 mod for your Applied Game Theory project, and with only a year left of college, your portfolio of side projects and capstones are bound to catch the attention of one of your top picks. Between [[Snowstorm]], [[Faucet]], and [[Phony]], you just knew one of them had to hire you.
Despite all of this beaming confidence, you find yourself [[questioning your decisions so far|Switch1]] and wonder if [[the industry is all its cracked up to be|Switch1]]. Afterall, you've heard plenty of horror stories of students from schools like [[University of Accellerated Technologies]] and [[Jordell]] who finished their degrees and work at [[Quasarbucks]]...
[[Fuck that!|Graduate1]] You know you're worth it! You've spent your entire life grooming yourself to be the next big thing the game industry is going to see! Your style is [[distinguished|Graduate1]], design documents are clean, and you have an expert view on what's trending in the industry. There's absolutely [[NO way|DropOut1]] this can end poorly.
All of this thinking has made you hungry though...
Ah, the masters of repurposing and parody. Snowstorm hit the industry hard with titles heavily borrowing from traditional figurine and pen and paper RPGs; delivering a streamlined experience that attracts many players who'd otherwise not want anything to do with these genres.
Throughout the years, Snowstorm has been focusing on solidifying their Intellectual Properties, providing a lot of cross-promotion between them. While your ideas may not really flurish with Snowstorm, giving their ridgid design choices, you can't help but respect their business model and recognize the strength of their branding. Also, you've been helpless addicted to Universe of Wartime for a long time...
[[You swear your stomach is eating you.|Introduction]]
Faucet is by far a dream come true for anybody trying to break into the industry. Their gaming platform "Condensation" allows many developers to produce and distribute their games in ways unimaginable only a short decade ago. No more trying to push your CDs at speciality stores if you're not working on a AAA title.
Their vision of creating a gaming sphere that's accessible to all really speaks to your inner designer, who really wants to break into the industry and have their ideas come to life.
[[All this dreaming is making you more hungry...|Introduction]]
You have their TV. You have their laptop. You even have their original tape player. Phony has been in your life for a very long time; and it just so happens that their AmuseChannel gaming console sits just 5 feet away from your bed. Console gaming provides interesting challenges and very potent rewards when executed correctly; given that programming and designing for the console is limited to that machine's resources, controller layout, and a managerie of other factors in which PCs can be so versitile.
Phony is a giant company, and being part of that entity would be surreal; being just one person in a sub-divison of the brand. But you're confident you could make a difference with your bold designs and insights.
[[You really can't wait for break to play through the next EternalFiction RPG.|Introduction]]
This school sent you countless letters while you were in High School to join their ranks. Luckily, you realized that the school was just a glorified money-pit, praying on the hopes and dreams of youth to fill their pockets with student loan money.
[[Luckily, DigiSail U is nothing like those guys!|Introduction]]
Pfft... Those guys.
Those guys didn't even have to create a fully functioning game to graduate. You honestly wonder why anybody would attend Jordell when DigiSail U was literally right around the corner.
[[It's probably because of the tuition difference...|Introduction]]
[[Nectar of the Gods.|Introduction]]
Your bagel with cream cheese really didn't hit the spot today.
Neither did your marks from that last semester.
It's not like you did badly, but after [[New Year's|newyears]] you really started to question what you were doing with all of your visions and abilities.
And while [[a lot of people go through this|Graduate1]] sensation of questioning their decisions in life, you can't help but feel that [[maybe you've outgrown your desire for the industry.|Switch2]]
As a backup, you decided to apply to transfer to [[State U|Switch2]] to keep your options open. The decision to either [[graduate|Graduate1]] at DigiSail U or switch weighs on you heavily in the following weeks. Either way, you'll be back in classes within 3 week's time.
Rested and focused, you begin your new semester at DigiSail U taking some of the hardest classes yet. People warned against enrolling in "Game Design and Documentation" and "Critial Game Theory" at the same time, but you'll push through. You just hope that "Japanese 2" goes over better this time...
Three weeks pass in a sneeze and you realize that given your overloaded schedule, you can no longer attend both [[G3]] and [[VideoGame Developers' Convention|VGDC]]. Doing both would surely result in you failing at least one of your classes; actually, it might even behoove you to [[simply not go to either|Graduate2.3]] and focus on yourself.
You really wanted to attend G3 because they showcase all the upcoming games and techonlogies - you'll be of the first to try out next years' games! It's important to keep ahead of hte trends as much as possible. On the other hand, VideoGame Developers' Convention may turn into the networking opportunity you need to break into the industry. You've even set up a portfolio website, and have a fancy business card linking to it.
You just had to go there, didn't you?
The next month, you recieve a rather disturbing phone call from your parents. The tuition for your school is costing them too much, and they demand that you consider going to [[State U|Switch2]]. They also drone on about how they read an article about how Game Designers don't get work with their degrees, and how difficult it can be to break into the industry.
It pains you since you [[want to prove to them (and yourself) that you can make it|experiment]], you also [[can't be selfish and cost them too much money|Switch2]].
While it's no Phyra, PolyMod3D is actually free, which means its in your budget. (Who has $3500 to spend on a software license?!)
[[About that food...|Introduction]]
Sickle is the 3D map editor used in Faucet's prolific title Atomic-Weight 2. It has plenty of features that you have learned to master through painstakingly spending all the hours you should be sleeping on it. But, at last, you can confidently build stages like its nothing. Such essotaric knowledge should serve you well going forward; it'll make you look more like a badass.
[[Now, about that food...|Introduction]]
Oh... Yeah... [[That's a night to be forgotten, for sure.|Switch1]]
It's been 4 weeks into classes at State U, and life is a lot different now. You decide to attend college for general education, realizing that almost half your credits from DigiSail U wouldn't transfer to StateU; but luckily, you feel like you're learning more than you ever did before. Not only that, but you feel generally happier as well; in the immeadiate sense.
While State U is clearly a better choice, and you feel healthier, brighter, and more functional than at DigiSail U, you can't help but wonder what would have happened if you had stuck with your dreams and became that game designer. You do your best to keep up with your friends from there, but State U is making you realize you have a lot to learn before graduating.
The next biggest challenge is deciding on what you will next focus your life on; choosing a major that fits your sensibilities and can earn some money (you'll need some after the tuition at DigiSail U). But overall, you think you'll be fine. Overall, things are looking to be safe, and managable.
~The End
Attending G3 was like being a baby in a candy store. Every booth was extremely attractive to you, and you played all the games you could muster! It was loud, bright, colorful, and exciting.
When you got home, the first thing you did was post all your awesome pictures online, to which most of your friends expressed their envy that you could attend such an event.
You felt energized and [[ready to get back to work.|Graduate2.1]]
Whatever you did seemed to pay off, because you managed to make it through that semester somehow. Despite the warnings, you managed to pass all of your classes, and you feel awfully proud of yourself. With only one semester to go, your goals of being a real bonafide game developer are within arm's reach!
You worked extra hard on making sure all of your work was exceptionally well done, and you managed to add a few pieces to your portfolio. You start to [[experiment]] with a few ideas that have been floating in your head; you've always had some crazy ideas for games that seemed too farfetched to be realities. It feels really awesome to get to play with these and have them functioning.
With your redesigned web portfolio, you also begin to [[shoot out applications|Graduate3.2]] for various companies; mainly ones that were listed in attendance at VGDC.
VideoGame Developers' Convention was very formal. Most of the people there were in suits, with a few normal looking people peppered inbetwee the browns and blacks with ties and aftershave. The booths at this convention were set up similar to a job fair, and each company expressed interest in viewing your website; though you couldn't help but feel that this desire for your site's views were simply a formality. That's to be expected though, since there were hundreds of people similar to you in the same room, doing the exact same thing.
You managed to get a few pieces of swag from some of the booths, including a starter deck for an unpublished card game that's due to hit stores next quarter. You also gather a few contacts from companies you've never heard of before, with some promises of contacting you for further information.
You return home exhausted, [[but determined to make a better impression next time.|Graduate2.2]]
Whatever you did seemed to pay off, because you managed to make it through that semester somehow. Despite the warnings, you managed to pass all of your classes, and you feel awfully proud of yourself. With only one semester to go, your goals of being a real bonafide game developer are within arm's reach!
As you sign up for your last semester at DigiSail U, you begin to realize just how important it is to start job hunting. You decide to talk with Undergraduate Advising for help, and they direct you to the [[internet for filling out applications|Graduate3.1]] to the companies you want to work for.
Whatever you did seemed to pay off, because you managed to make it through that semester somehow. Despite the warnings, you managed to pass all of your classes, and you feel awfully proud of yourself. With only one semester to go, your goals of being a real bonafide game developer are within arm's reach!
As you begin your final semester at DigiSail U, you begin to realize that it might be time to start contacting some of the people you met at VGDC. Over the next few weeks, you begin to get responses back from people and are [[surprised to see some of them enjoyed your portfolio!|Graduate3.2]]
After about 20 rejections, you figure its because you don't actually have your degree yet. Afterall, all the websites for your position as a Game Designer call for qualifications that you cannot possibly fulfill as a student. You chalk it up to simply beeing too early to be getting job offers.
One night, after a grueling round of midterms, you find yourself reading an online post about somebody's experience getting into the gaming industry. You couldn't tell if you should feel inspired or defeated, but one thing resonated with you throughout the post. You were either going to have to [[accept any job possible in the industry|Graduate4.1]] or [[heavily consider doing something else with your life|Switch2]]. In another tab, you have the application to State U open...
It's been a week since you graduated college, your Game Design diploma rests in a frame above your studio apartment's bed. You wake up to a phone call from [[DHQ]], stating that you need to come in today to start your new position as a Game Tester. You did it, you've broken into the industry.
When you arrive, you fill out paperwork and NDAs, and they show you to your new workplace. There's a console sitting there for you, as well as a packet of paperwork for you to fill out as you play their newest movie-title game. You are given strict guidelines about how to fill out said paperwork, and how you should be playing the game, and then are left to your devices.
You hope that after a year or so of this work, you could break into the kind of work you really want in the industry; and you need to fast given your $18,000 salary game testing. It truly doesn't feel like you ever left college.
You've managed to land a few interviews, and while all of them seemed really promising, they all ultimately share similar criticisms of your work. Most of them stated that "Your vision is good, but doesn't align with any of our current projects." One interviewer even flat out told you that your portfolio was too amature to be considered for such a position; but you didn't like that company anyway. Overall, it almost felt like you were too early in trying to get your name out there...
... At least until you got a message from [[Regicide Inc.]] You could hardly contain yourself as you heard the person on the other line giving you a job offer as a Junior Developer for their web based games. While it wasn't ideal, at this point, you were just excited to HAVE an offer at all!
You continue over the next couple of weeks to focus on your work, making sure to keep the offer you had. Deep down inside, you had a feeling nothing else was going to bite, but you still secretly held on hope for more offers.
This is the kind of game company that does its best to capitalize on other media for their game creation. The employees here are focused on one thing only; releasing a game on time. The cost of these games are often high as well, given all the money needed for royalties.
Life at DHQ is monotonous. The games you test here are very similar to each other - very predictable. The inner Game Designer in you is always wanting to give ideas on how to enhance these games, but at the same time, you know that your voice will not be heard as a mere Game Tester.
It's your anniversary of being a Game Tester now. Your old roommate moved out, but you share the room with a new DigiSail U student. You manage to sublease the space to them in order to save extra money.
Upon coming home, however, you notice an email from one of the companies you applied to a long time ago. Normally, these are rejection emails. You're too tired to open it right now, sleeping through your new roommate's frantic strokes on his keyboard, trying to complete that Game Design document. Only tomorrow will tell if you'll break through the next layer of the Game Industry.
~The End
Regicide Inc. is one of the earliest web-based casual gaming companies around. Their most famous game, "Soda Pop Chronicles", floods millions of social media accounts daily with micro-transactions. While the gameplay elements of their games are mostly borrowed from famous titles, you hold off your critical critique and simply do your best to contribute the best you can.
Just after 2 months of graduating, you've been working at Regicide. The team all seem very friendly and welcome you into their work culture, which was very trendy and relaxed. Nobody at this web-based company seemed to be "at work", sporting street clothes and drinking soda, some were even playing on an AmuseChannel 3! Your worries about creating an unique branding of game design dissolve slowly, knowing your [[time will come|Regicide2]] when the world is ready.
Finally. After six months, your project lead gives you the news that you'll be working on a new project. The best part of all is that you've been elected as lead designer for a new IP for Regicide! Before you know it, you find yourself co-leading a team of other hopefuls in designing the next web-based game clone to flood the internet. Life is great.
You enter your nice single appartment with dry-eraser stained hands 3 hours later than usual. You collaspe in your bed, sighing a contented sigh that you've just begun designing your first ever video game. Millions of users will be interacting with your design.
Despite all this success, you can't help but wonder what it'd be like to work with more freedoms. While you're really proud of your accomplishments, the game you're making has a lot of design limitations; such as needing to be PG rated, and having to fit a certain gameplay trope. But then you remember those Jordell kids working at Quasarbucks, and simply shake your head. It's okay. You're still doing what you love. Great work.
~The End
What is a video game anymore? What's the point of gaming and what kinds of cultures and bodies make games what they are today? What does it mean to have such a medium controlled by "the man" and all this money flowing through the industry?
These are all questions that begin to weigh on your conscious, to the point where you spend more time trying to break "the rules" of game design rather than abide by them. You design a racing RPG where your accelleration is determined by battles. You design a game that changes based on the time of day. You begin designing web applications that scan social media for negative messages and offers a joke for repreieve. You basically design anything that isn't normally considered a "game" or "application" in an attempt to satisfy your curiosities.
Some of your classmates find your use of gaming to be [[cute|discourage]] and [[strangely unique|discourage]]. Your teachers find your work to be [[clever, but not practical|discourage]]. You begin to [[question|discourage]] your sensibilties. You try to remind yourself that [[sometimes, risks can have rewards|encourage]], but its sometimes a [[bit hard|discourage]] to feel enthusiastic with all the negative feedback.
It's all too much.
What's the point of making unique programs if they won't be taken seriously? You [[buckle down|Graduate3.2]] and [[focus hard on school|Graduate3.1]].
But they were all wrong.
You finish your Magnum Opus and upload it to Faucet for a sale price of $10. A week later, you achieve 5 digit sale figures, and its climbing. VideoTube videos are popping up of people playing your game, enjoying its clever use of social media and quirky game mechanics that [[redefine the genre|encourage2]]. The world is appreciate your design, and the best part of all is that you compromised nothing in the process.
You and your artist friend who helped with the assets for the game are now working on making offical merchandise for your sleeper hit. As you finish your designs and submit them to SamuraiPrints, you watch as the ticket count for your game reaches half a million purchases. The feeling is surreal; it's almost too good to be true.
A year later, you're still developing games independantly. Your "brand", while successful, isn't quite as potent as your first hit; but you make an honest living based on your self marketing of merchandise and hard work creating games. You've been featured in VideoTube interviews and have had shout outs in Gaming Magazines. And while you don't work for Snowstorm, Phony, or Faucet, you have become exactly what you wanted - a Game Designer.
Even later, you find yourself writing a book on your experience, detailing the journey you took to being a recognized independant video game designer. You write about how no amount of school or industry experience can gaurentee you space inside the ecosystem of video game creation. As you write about your successes and strategies, you begin to realize that the industry itself could use a lot of change. You know for certain that you were a few simple decisions away from losing the opportunities you have now. You know there's others you knew from DigiSail U that had great ideas, who were probably shot down.
After all of this thinking, you decide it warrants a chapter in your book. The only thing you anticipate now is the impact your work may have on other aspiring game designers.
~The End