Sometimes, you just need some space. While it's definitely posed a few challenges, taking a much-need planned sabbatical has managed to renew my passion and perspective in incalculable ways.
As you may have noticed, it’s been a minute since I’ve been an active member of the game development community. While I doubt anyone out there wants to sip the proverbial tea on why I made the decision to shift gears for a bit, it definitely comes up in discussion with friends and potential employers, so I figured I’d speak to it a bit here rather than let some dates on a resume tell the whole story.
Simply put, I got burnt out.
I started my first business in gaming when I was 19 years old, launching a content website online, long before the word “blog” was a gleam in your average keyboard capitalist’s eye. I took that site from clumsy site on Geocities (remember them?!?) to an actual business, employing half a dozen people.
Eventually, I parlayed that experience into a job with Gamefan Magazine, then helped launch IGN.com, then transitioned into a game development gig with Sega over at Visual Concepts working on the critically acclaimed NFL2K series.
Before I knew it, I had an office with a futon, a GeorgeForeman grill, and a week’s worth of clothes in it. I was working 100+hours a week, telling myself that it was worth the grind if we could find a way to work in that one feature. A bit further down the line, I was working at a studio that legit sent us a day-one audio clip of their spokesperson imploring us to, “turn to the person sitting behind you and shout as loud as you can, ‘I WANT YOUR JOB.’”
Yes, really. (ed’s note: I still have the MP3 if you want to hear it. AMAZING stuff.)
So, after a few additional learning experiences, I did what many folks do, starting off on some passion projects with a few fellow dreamers.But it happens with many indie projects, they fell juuuuust shy of offering the financial stability to counter the time and effort required, and so, I finally called a spade a spade.
I decided to take a break, doing everything from freelance consulting to retail management to running high end whiskey bar in an effort to find that perfect blend of funds and free time. It was hard work for a guy who’d spent the better part of a decade behind a desk, but it felt good to know that when the day was over, the work was done. That said, I didn’t exactly feel connected to the work so, unfortunately, none of them ended up fitting the bill.
Once again, I knew it was time for a change.
And boy-oh-boy, did I get my money’s worth as our good friend COVID came clomping down the street, throwing all of our lives into a right and proper tizzy. So, when a close friend asked if I felt like working in operations for a healthcare staffing company, I packed a bag, got some sleep, and found myself in New YorkCity the next afternoon.
Initially asked to drive a van full of healthcare professionals to and from work, I quickly transitioned to project management when management discovered my past life, and finally found what I’d been missing.
I worked for three different outfits across 9 different cites, working 16 hour days, 7 days a week for months at a time in an effort to ensure that people charged with combating the crisis had as much support as we could muster.
And get this: I loved every minute of it.
I say this because it reminded me of two core things I had lost over the years:
1.) Gigs that not only require a specific skillset, but also force you to grow are beyond rewarding.
and….
2.) Doing something that matters to you and the people you serve is fucking priceless.
Despite the long hours, living out of a hotel room, and missing my friends, family, and fuzzy child something awful, I was making a difference. Whether we're talking about ensuring that thousands of nurses made it to work on time, planning elaborate birthday parties for folks who were half a world away from their families, or crying with my co-workers until the wee hours of the morning because we had no idea how to tell someone who just watched every patient they had that day that day pass that it was going to be OK, I knew that this experience would stick with all of us the rest of our lives.
I was physically destroyed and emotionally exhausted, and yet? I was so damned happy to wake up each day and do my job.
And then it hit me: It was something I hadn't felt in ages. When I ad to put a finger on it, I realized it was exactly how I felt when I first started making games; knowing that some kid somewhere would need a break from life and play what we made and be happier for it - that always meant so much to me. And thanks to this crazy experience, I had found that again. It admittedly stirred something in me, and thanks to a government salary coupled with the insane hours noted above, I had some time to figure out how to make these two things the center of my search going forward.
There’s still some things to figure out, but when I really got down to it, I keep coming back to one simple thing:
I love making games.
Despite everything, I was never as happy as I was in that industry, and between the much-needed break and the knowledge that I can still do great work; that there will be countless challenges to overcome as I get up to speed, I know what it would mean to me to give it another go.
Will it be tough? Sure. Do I feel like I am 5 years late to my own prom? Daily. Should I just listen to the folks who tell me it’s too late to get back in? Not a chance.
I love telling stories. I love building worlds. Most of all, I love knowing that way I spend my day makes a difference to the teams I’m on and the people who enjoy the end result of our efforts.
It may take a minute, but as Red once said. “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”
You’re god-damned right.
Feel free to take a look at other random bits that make up the ABCs of me.
