Berlin Game Design

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN #52: Getting it Wrong

2012-01-28T16:25:00.000-08:00

It can be frustrating to learn that you have been getting a rule wrong for months--or even years. I recently discovered this when riding the public buses in Berlin, and it's happened with games as well. Enjoy my latest Postcard on Opinionated Gamers. Hopefully, I'll have at least gotten that right...

Avoiding Common Criticisms

2012-01-24T02:50:00.000-08:00

As I wrote in my last post, it is encouraging to get positive feedback from the games I have published. Criticism can also help hone a designer's craft, and can be especially helpful in the playtest phase of a game's development. Following is a list of common criticisms of games (both prototype and published). It's a good excercise to ask yourself and and your playtesters if any of these apply to your prototype:

1. There is not enough player interaction. It feels like multi-player solitaire, and players have little influence over their opponents.

2. The game is too complex for what it offers.

3. The game is too long for what it offers.

4. The rules are unintuitive.

5. The theme is pasted on. It does not harmonize with the rules.

6. The players' decisions are too obvious. The game feels scripted or "plays itself."

7. There are too many choices for the players. They feel overwhelmed.

8. There is too much downtime. Player turns take too long.

9. There is a runaway leader problem.

10. There is only one way to win the game. It lacks different paths/strategies that players can explore.

11. The game is too random. Players do not have enough control.

12. The game is too repetitive and lacks a story arc.

13. The game lacks any original elements. There is nothing new here.

Reviews and Awards

2012-01-20T01:42:00.000-08:00

It has been a little over 3 years since my first published game was released, and 5 others have followed since that time. I am usually someone who is always looking ahead to the next challenge and the next project, but sometimes, it is helpful and encouraging to pause for a look back.

The encouraging part is the positive feedback the games have received around the world from a wide variety of players, gaming publications and reviewers. To keep a record of those, I have added a Reviews page to this blog.

Not all of the games have been readily available in all markets, and so this page also serves as a reference for those publishers looking to license the game in their markets. Most of this goes through the current publisher who leases the rights to the games, of course, but three of my games no longer appear in the publisher's catalogue and, therefore, according to contract, the full rights to those games revert back to me.

Heartland (Eine Frage der Ähre) and Circus Maximus are two games that have been well-received although not widely available, and therefore have potential to sell well in markets outside Germany, where they were officially released. In addition, I have been working on alternative versions and tweaks to make the games even better than when they were first published. I suppose I can't resist the opportunity to do something different with the concepts rather than simply recycling an idea in its entirety!

Piece o' Cake (...aber bitte mit Sahne) has already been released in several markets and is well-known in gaming circles, having sold just over 10,000 copies, but I believe it has untapped mass-market potential.

If you are a publisher and are interested in any of these games, please feel free to contact me here or through Boardgamegeek.com.

I would like to extend my thanks to all those who take the time to comment and review my games, even when those reviews have something critical to say. I have respect for any intelligently written review, and I apply that feedback to my future projects.

A Letter to Publishers: Act Professionally

2012-01-12T03:28:00.000-08:00

Last year, I half-jokingly posted a list for aspiring game designers of Things Not to Say When Pitching to a Publisher. It proved more popular than I could have imagined, and inspired a more serious follow-up of suggestions for pitching to a publisher. Even though many game designers are hobbyists, I believe it is important that we act professionally when presenting our work.

This time, I’d like to turn the conversation towards the publishers, both big and small, who actively seek out new designs for their catalogues. While most of my experiences have been positive ones, I have also experienced—or been privy to—some areas needing improvement from the publishing side.

Consider this an open letter to publishers—especially those starting out in publishing—to challenge them to be more professional in their interactions with game designers.

Communication

The first and foremost sign of professionalism from a publisher, in my opinion, is good communication with game designers, especially after a prototype has been solicited for internal testing. It is perfectly understandable that playtesting can take some time, but they should be able to communicate realistically how long it will take before they will send the designer feedback. And if they need to extend this period beyond what they promised, it is perfectly acceptable as long as they communicate this to the designer. Communication shows respect, and it is especially important for a publisher who requests prototypes exclusively, as they are tying up that prototype from testing by another publisher.

Of course, communication can be overdone. If a designer is writing weekly (or daily) emails asking about the status of his or her prototype, then it is important for the publisher to communicate clearly that they will send feedback at a specific point in time and not before.

Generally, it may also be important to establish what an acceptable amount of time is in answering emails.

The level of communication varies, of course, from publisher to publisher—but also from time to time, as much of a publisher’s job is devoted to tasks other than looking at new prototypes. That said, I’ve had very good experiences with Stefan Brück of alea, Thorsten Gimmler of Schmidt, Michel Matschoss formerly of Winning Moves Germany, Henning Kröpke and Andre Bronswijk of Pegasus. The best I’ve ever worked with, however, was Uli Blennemann, formerly of Phalanx Germany. Uli’s feedback for my prototype Artifact, designed with Bernd Eisenstein, was so quick and detailed, that it helped us develop the design further over a short period of time. It was a shame that we weren’t able to produce the game with him after working so much together on it, as the Dutch headquarters turned it down, but the game went on to place in the top 6 of the Hippodice Competition and find another publisher soon after.

There have been other examples, too, unfortunately. Most of them have been from small publishers, as they often seem to be hobbyists who “bite off more than they can chew” with a start-up company. If you have just started your own publishing company and want to find good game designs to publish, make sure you communicate well with potential designers. There is nothing more frustrating that having emails unanswered for months at a time. It is also unprofessional to see information posted online about game release schedules before they are ever communicated to the designer.

Edit: as Peer mentions in the comments below, when a prototype is rejected after playtesting, the publisher exhibits professionalism by writing a brief letter stating why they do not wish to publish it.

Respect

There are certainly advantages to working with hobby game publishers in such an informal industry. Personal relationships are important, and once one is established, designer and publisher usually address each other on a first-name basis. This is, however, no excuse to act unprofessionally, and publishers need to remember to treat every designer—whether wannabe or established—with respect. I can certainly understand how tiring it may be for publishers to sift through the hundreds of unoriginal game ideas in order to find the undiscovered gems, but that is their job, and there is no need to be rude to a designer who is pitching something that does not interest them. The best publishers are honest but tactful, and if they see something good in the designs, even encouraging. I’ve even had publishers recommend other publishers for a particular design.

Unfortunately, I’ve also heard of publishers who were unnecessarily rude to wannabe designers. A couple from Berlin, for example, were pitching their game idea to a publisher at the Göttingen Game Designer’s Convention. Players in the game needed to drive their ambulances around the board in order to rescue people who were sick or had different types of injuries. Instead of pointing out the reasons why they were not interested in that game, however, the publisher commented smuggly, “After playing this game, I feel sick, too.”

Almost every game designer begins by designing variations on what he or she already knows. It is often only after much practice that more originality begins to show in their work. A good publisher recognizes this and will try to inspire new designers to continue to develop in their craft, rather than slamming the door in their faces with unnecessary rudeness or arrogance.

Collaboration

Good communication should not end once a contract is signed. It can actually be beneficial for the publisher to see the development and publication process as a collaboration with the designer. For example, publishers who consult with designers can actually avoid problems in the rules and graphic presentation, as one can never have too many people proofread the game before publication. Publishers who have collaborated well with me during the development and publication process are Jonny De Vries (White Goblin), Stefan Brück (alea), Andre Bronswijk (Pegasus), Rob Seater (Cambridge Games Factory) and Uli Schumacher (formerly of Winning Moves Germany). In each case, the level of collaboration made each final product better.

For example, I was able to avoid a real mess with Piece o’ Cake/Aber bitte mit Sahne because the publisher sent me the rules just before publication. Someone had included a seemingly innocent sentence to require as many rounds as the number of players. While that is certainly an option for some, including that in the rules as a requirement would make the game unbearably long for 5 players! The game, then, would no longer be judged as a „filler“ and complaints about the length of the game (or, at least, this unnecessary rule), would have overshadowed the gameplay. Fortunately, I was able to convince the publisher to change the rules again at the last minute.

There are other examples where a game could have avoided unnecessary criticism if I had only been shown the graphics and/or rules ahead of time.

Value

Contracts are, naturally, the most direct way publishers show that they value their game designers. It is a sign of professionalism, then, to offfer reasonable contracts, which typically include: an advance on royalties (at least $500-$1000, depending on the size of the game and first print run), standard royalties (at least 5% of the net income), and a deadline for publication (not more than 2 years). There should also be clauses in the contract that revert the rights back to the designer if the game is not published when promised, it is no longer in a publisher’s catalogue, or it is selling poorly or is liquidated. For more information on contract details, the international Game Designer’s Association (Spielautorenzunft) has excellent material available to members. The 60 Euro fee for a 1-year membership is worth it just to have access to the standard contracts and advice.

Recognition

When releasing new games, it is important for publishers to recognize designers whenever and wherever possible. This should not be limited to putting their names on the box covers, but also in their brochures, flyers, and on their company web pages. Alea has designer profiles on its web page, for example, while Hans im Glück has photos of the designers of its games along with short biographies on the sides of the game boxes. Giving credit to game designers shows that a publisher values them. And these things are such small gestures that add very little extra cost to the final production.

In Closing...

Most established hobby game publishers have built their reputations on good relationships with freelance game designers. They demonstrate professionalism when communicating and collaborating, and they reward their designers through their contracts and through various other forms of recognition. If you are a small publisher aspiring to find your niche in a very competitive market, you can attract good designs by quickly establishing a good reputation among game designers. And if you are a game designer, do not sell yourself short by signing with a company that acts unprofessionally.

Journeys, Destinations, and Serendipity

2012-01-03T15:25:00.000-08:00

I have not written much lately, although it is not for a lack of ideas. I have notes written down on a number of interesting, game-related topics that I'm planning on writing about in the near future, either on this blog or a Postcard From Berlin on the Opinionated Gamers website.

Most of my time is spent with work (my real job), my family (wife and two young, very active sons), and my studies (I'm working towards a masters degree). When I do have time for my gaming hobby, which is very little these days, I must decide between playing the games in my collection (especially getting some of the unplayed ones to the table), writing about games and game design, or developing new game ideas I've had (written down as they come to me in the shower, in traffic, etc.). In deciding how to spend my limited "action points", I experience the same kind of tension found in my favorite games--those in which you have so many things you want to do, but are unable to do them all.

I am thankful that I have the choice, as I enjoy all three aspects of the hobby, and have made friends in each area as well. In the end, however, one must have a priority--at least for a round or two, until the desire for something different comes along and a change of strategies is in order.

For a time, I was burned out on game design, having spent a great deal of energy to get some fairly complex games ready to be published, and a couple of other designs in which I'd invested quite a bit of energy were just not getting anywhere. After a break, however, I've rediscovered the joy of it, and have been developing several ideas simultaneously, both old and new. It's fun again, and I'm finding inspiration everywhere I look, whether it be in a conversation, the internet, or a children's book. I feel as though I'd been staying at a hostel for a time, and am just now heading out of town on a new road.

I've often heard that the "journey is the destination," and I think that it is something good to think about for those who get tunnel vision and can only focus on a fixed point on the horizon. It is possible to be overly focus on that final goal, however, if one rushes through the process to get there. There is much to be learned and gained from the journey, and one can miss the best parts by moving too fast. However, from my own experience, I find that BOTH are equally important: the journey AND the destination. Focus too much on the journey, and one can also lose site of the reason one set out in the first place, and a lack of an alternative destination can bring creativity to a standstill.

I recently read a blog by puzzle game inventor Raf Peeters, who describes the journey and destination of game design far more eloquently than I have. In his article, he describes it as "serendipity," which he defines as "when you are searching for something, sometimes you find something else."

The inventor who begins and ends with the "big idea," writes Peeters, is a myth. Instead, it's all about setting out on a journey in which you have an idea where you are headed, but are also open to taking different paths to get there, and you might even end up at a different destination altogether. If you've been paying attention ("actively searching" and taking notes, writes Peeters), then the place you come to will be a rewarding one.

Inventing a game that works--and especially one that gets published and played--is a rewarding destination. It does not happen without all the interesting experiences and lessons of the journey, however. Just read one of the many "Designer Diaries" here or on BoardGameGeek for proof of that.

But enough writing for now--it's time to get back to the games I'm currently designing. After all, the design process itself also has multiple paths to victory, a worthwhile journey to a worthwhile destination. And, if we're open to it, serendipity can play a part in taking us somewhere better than the "big idea" that pushed us out the door in the first place.

Things TO SAY when pitching to a publisher

2011-12-21T11:47:00.002-08:00

My recent post, “Things NOT to say when pitching to a publisher,” has been very popular that past couple of weeks, having been linked to design forums from Boardgamegeek and even an Italien game design website (I couldn’t resist registering there to comment, even though I had to run everything through Googletranslate in order to understand the conversation).

At the prodding of several commenters, including those on Board Game Design Forum, I have now added a list of things you COULD and probably SHOULD say to publishers, when pitching your game to them.

In addition, I would like to add that, although hobby game publishers are often fairly casual, you would do well to present yourself as professional as possible. This does not mean you have to wear a suite and tie, but it should go without saying that showering and wearing nice clothes leaves a much better impression than greasy hair, a T-Shirt and ratty jeans.

Now, on with the list, which is written in no particular order:

1. This game has been tested multiple times with every number of players and by players who fit in the game’s target group. It was also blind tested by groups that had to learn the game on their own from my rules sheets. I have the results of each playtest recorded here in my notebook.

2. This game seems like a good fit for your company. I think your Game X is a great game for its target group, and this game has a similar target group.

3. This game has very accessible and intuitive rules, but it also has some mechanisms that set it apart from other games (examples...) in its genre and target group.

4. This takes an average of X minutes to play per player, according to my playtest sessions.

5. Allow me to explain the game idea and rules in 5 minutes to you...

6. I have used clipart and different types of components to give you an idea of what the game could look like, but I am, of course, open to any changes in theme and art direction you may have.

7. I enjoy working with developers to make my games the best that they can be. I am a team player and, though I appreciate being included in the process, am open to changes that improve the game or make it fit better with your company’s line and business plan.

8. I have done my research on your company and am presenting you this game because I feel it fits in with your previous releases. If, however, you are interested in branching out, I also have some other prototypes you might be interested in looking at.

9. You can look at the rules sheet while I explain it to you—I don’t need to refer to them, as I know the game inside and out.

10. If you are interested, please take the prototype with you to test with your groups. I look forward to receiving your feedback soon.

EDIT: After some good discussion on this at BGDF, I'd like to clarify this list a little more. First of all, these items are meant to be a kind of checklist to help you prepare for a pitch--not just something you have to say, word-for word--and CERTAINLY not something you say about your game or playtesting if it is untrue! The point is, if any of these are untrue, MAKE them true before you pitch your game. For example, if there is nothing original in your game (whether it be a mechanic, or the way the mechanics work to together, the theme or the treatment of the theme), then it is unlikely your game won't stand out from an increasingly crowded marketplace. And if you haven't playtested it extensively, the publisher will probably be able to tell fairly early on--they are very good at discerning these things, as they look at hundreds of prototypes every year and hear even more pitches for games.

Perhaps this sounds too "salesman-like," but that's really what you are doing and you can't get around it. I used to hate selling things for school fundraisers, but with my games, at least I believe in the product I am selling. The more you do to make your game the best it can be, and the more you prepare for the pitch, the more confident you can be in selling it.

Introductions to Games

2011-12-18T22:50:00.000-08:00

As Christmas approaches, I will probably have several opportunities to play games with friends and family. Most of these occasions will include people who do not normally play games, or people who only know a limited number of games. In fact, these kinds of situations are not unusual for me, as the bi-monthly game night I host often attracts people who are there more for the social experience than to “learn every new Essen release.” They could care less who the designer is or what kinds of game mechanics are used. They simply want to have a good time with friends, both new and old.

That does not stop me, of course, from introducing new games to them, in an attempt to expose them to the wonderful wide world of our hobby. My choices, however, tend to favor games with short rules and shorter playing times. Following is a list of my favorite—and best-received—introductions to the hobby, my top “gateway games,” as they are often called. I've organized them by type of game, as I have found that it is a good idea to have a few games of each type handy--something for everyone, if you will.

TRADING GAMES:

These can involve some great player interaction, and it is no mistake that two of the most popular games in Germany from the 90’s are:

Siedler von Catan/Settlers of Catan and Bohnanza - these two games have both spawned so many expansions and have been “gateways” for new German gamers for years, and they still have the same effect on those not familiar with the hobby. Brilliant in their time, and proving to be timeless.

TILE-LAYING GAMES:

There’s something fun about allowing the players to build the game board during the course of the game. Along with it’s puzzle aspect, it also guarantees a different look to the game each time, keeping it fresh and making it more fun to teach new people.

Carcassonne – this was my personal gateway game, and it is still one of my first choices when introducing people to modern games. Simple with the right combination of strategy and luck to level the playing field, but also very interactive.

Alhambra – a game in which each player builds their own private Carcassonne, but there's more interaction than in many of the recent “each player has his/her own sandbox” games. Here, the interaction occurs in getting the right buildings before the other players--and beating them in majorities-- both providing plenty of tension to hook someone into the hobby.

Eine Frage der Ähre/Heartland – this is one of my games, but it has been a hit with both the gamers and non-gamers to whom I have introduced it. Players like the tense choices and timing aspects which give them multiple paths to victory, and the way the board develops 3-dimensionally is visually appealing. It’s out of print now, so any interest from other pubishers is welcome! (I’m currently working on some variants as well, as I’d like to try some new things with it).

NETWORK/ROUTE BUILDING GAMES:

One of my favorite genres, as I enjoyed playing Empire Building type crayon rail games for a time. It if fun to build track or travel places, and there is always a sense of accomplishment, whether you sore enough points to win the game or not.

Zug um Zug/Ticket to Ride – along with Carcassone, one of my top two gateway games. The rules could not be more simple, but there is still plenty of tension in making the choice between three options each turn, and the game moves along quickly. The board looks great with the players’s train wagons filling up the connections between cities.

Elfenland – this one is more about planning a trip—something many non-gamers like doing. It has a nice, friendly fantasy theme and art as well.

Durch die Wüste/Through the Desert – classic modern game with simple rules and turn angst of wanting to do more than what one is allowed to do each turn. And it has pastel camels.

Transamerica – the quickest and easiest of all network-building games, works great with 6 players as well.

AREA MAJORITY:

This became a staple mechanism used in German-style board games in the 90’s, and we still see it used quite frequently in new games coming out.

Manhatten – simple rules and has a nice 3-dimensional aspect, befitting of its theme.

El Grande – on the heavier side of the Gateway Game category, but still holds up as the standard for area majority games.

PRESS YOUR LUCK GAMES:

These are the types of games that involve luck, but give players enough information to know their odds, roughly. These are also the games that incite plenty of groans and cheers, depending on which card turns up next or what the dice show.

Heck Meck am Bratwurmeck/Pickomino – probably my 3^rd most-played gateway game, it really is the perfect risk-taking dice game, and even includes some nice interaction.

Diamant/Incan Gold – Great for a large group (up to 8) as a party-type risk-taking game.

Can’t Stop – a classic dice game—I have the old mountain-climbing version, which I prefer.

COOPERATIVE/SEMI-COOPERATIVE GAMES:

Although they aren’t new to gaming, there is a big trend these days for cooperative games, and they can also be great entrances to the hobby, as players come away with a sense of camaraderie, win or lose.

Pandemic (or Forbidden Island) – both of these are the best games in the cooperative genre, in my opinion. I prefer the former, as it’s theme is fresh and engaging, but the latter is a nice back-up if there is less time or a shorter attention span of the potential players.

The Resistance – finally an alternative to Werewolf/Mafia that allows more strategic play: more information, more bluffing, more deduction = more fun!

Saboteur – a nice, compact card game of working together and trying to find out who the secret saboteurs are before they can wreck your plans. Unless you are one of them, of course…

Scotland Yard – still a classic game of one player as the criminal trying to outsmart and escape the grasp of the others, who are racing against the clock to catch him/her.

BLUFFING GAMES:

Many people who normally don’t play games do enjoy those that allow players to bluff, while challenging the others to discover the truth. It’s appealing because it keeps the focus on the other players rather than solely on the board and pieces, making it one of the most social genres. And social is a good goal for a gateway game.

Ohne Furcht und Adel/Citadels – role selection game of building up your own personal kingdom.

Pow Wow – a spiffed-up version of Indian Poker, where you can see everyone else’s cards but your own! Headbands and card shaped like feathers make this an even funnier party game.

Bluff/Liar's Dice – it’s a dice game with bluffing, but there is enough information that one has to be clever about it, or else they’ll see right through you!

Heimlich & Co./Top Secret Spies – the classic game in which each player is assigned a secret identity (player color) and must try to score the most points in the color without revealing too soon what that color is. This has spawned many other similar games, but this one is still the simplest and purest.

BLIND BIDDING/SIMULTANEOUS SELECTION GAMES:

Like many experienced gamers, I have a love-hate relationship with this mechanism. When I first started gaming, I enjoyed how quickly these types of games played, and the groans or cheers it brought when it was revealed how well each player guessed what his/her opponents would do. After a slew of games in this genre, however, I’ve tired of the mechanism. But I keep a few of them handy for quick introductions into the hobby, as they can still be addictive to those unfamiliar with these type of games.

6 Nimmt! – brilliant card game that handles up to 10 players, so it is perfect for larger groups and compact enough to bring to parties.

Die Mauer – this could have been a card game, but it was instead nicely produced with wooden castle wall pieces, gates and turrets that add to the experience and make this game look different than any other. It’s out of print, and that is a shame, as many people to whom I’ve introduced it wanted to immediately purchase a copy.

Adel Verpflichtet/Hoity Toity/By Hook or Crook – uses a simple paper-rock-scissors mechanic, but adds the fresh theme of collecting—and steeling—antiques and exhibiting them for points.

NEGOTIATION GAMES:

One of my least-favorite genres, and they are not always the best type of gateway game, as you really need to play the game two times in a row to know what things are worth (much like auction games). Still, I have found a few that work well for newcomers:

I’m the Boss – a classic game of negotiating deals, I enjoyed this one the most of any other in the genre.

Lifeboats – the theme is a bit brutal, as the boats are sinking and players must vote to decide which survivors will be kicked out and left to the open seas. The nice wooden boards and colorful board and pieces make it appealing, however.

RACING GAMES:

This is a theme that is attractive to just about anyone, whether they be fans of Track and Field , NASCAR, or Fairy Tales.

Ave Caesar – simply the best racing game I have played, with simple rules and plenty of interaction by blocking opponents. Great fun for 4-6 players, and my 4^th most used gateway game of all time.

Verrückter Labyrinth/AMAZEing Labyrinth – a race to go through your own stack of artifact cards, which are located in an ever-changing maze.

Cartagena – a newer game taking the “move backwards in order to go forwards” idea and making it even simpler and more excessible. It’s still a very strategic game, but requires less counting than its predecessor.

Top Race – similar to Ave Caesar but with a money element added in (auction for cars and payouts for placings). Still simple enough for beginners, but with a little more to think about—and an auto-racing theme.

Hase & Igel – classic game that won the first Spiel des Jahres, it’s still quite fun and original, requiring players to move backwords in order to get the carrots required to move forwards.

CARD COMBINATION GAMES:

These are the types of games that have specific cards which, when combined, can be stronger than the cards themselves—or other card combinations. This became popular with collectable card games such as Magic: The Gathering, and is becoming popular in modern board games.

Dominion – starting with a small deck of cards, you add to it over the course of the game.

7 Wonders – players draft cards to build up their own civilizations. The game is so quick, counting your final score actually takes longer.

San Juan – a card game version of a classic “gamer’s game,” Puerto Rico, this is a quicker and more accessible version to teach to newcomers to the hobby. What separates this from the other games in this genre is the role selection (I chose the “Builder” this turn and every player can build a building, but I am the only one to receive the important Builder privilege).

DRAFTING/SET COLLECTION GAMES:

Most people I know like to collect things. These games are for them:

Aber bitte mit Sahne/Piece o’ Cake – 5 rounds of dividing a pie in which one player divides and the others choose slices. Everyone enjoys this one, even when I’m not around to teach it to them.

Coloretto – another simple yet brilliant little card game.

Tutanchamum – up to 6 players travel along a path, and try to make sets out of the path pieces they take as they go.

King Lui – making sets of food cards, with the leftovers going to the king. But if you have more than the king at the end of the game, you don’t score that particular food--subtle little card game.

AUCTION GAMES:

Auctions are great ways to get players to interact, and they have a way of automatically balancing the games as well.

Traumfabrik/Dream Factory – the original with real film stars and directors of the golden age of Hollywood, this is a fun exercise in filling up film roles through the auctioning of “contracts.”

Kuhhandel/You're Bluffing! – classic card game of auctioning off animals, then bartering with opponents to make sets, with elements of bluff.

Razzia! – this card game version of the popular Ra! is still my favorite, as I prefer the Mafia theme (it’s more fun and makes more sense to shout “Razzia!” when enough police show up).

ABSTRACT GAMES:

Although many of us like a good theme, abstracts are often better gateway games, as they are required to have simple rules, since they have to theme upon which to hang them.

Qwirkle – a kind of Scrabble/crossword game with symbols and colors instead of letters, it won this year’s Spiel des Jahres because of it’s addictive play.

Packeis am Pol/Hey, That’s My Fish! – yes, there is sort of a theme, but not really. Great game, though, and the penguins do help sell it to newcomers.

Blokus – multi-player Tetris, although I prefer this with 4.

Rumis – 3-dimensional Tetris, with some nice twists and plenty of strategy. Different boards add some nice variability.

DEXTERITY:

These games look great, set up on the table. I often have one set up at the beginning of every game night, just to attract attention and give people something to play with until enough guests arrive for other games.

Bamboleo – simple balancing game, but the best of its kind.

Pitchcar – racing game of flicking wooden “racecar” discs around a wooden track. The sections of track can be combined for different types of courses and I have all the expansions.

CARD GAMES:

I placed some of the card games in other categories, but these don’t fit in those. Card games are great gateways simply due to their portability, and usually, their rules are also quick to teach.

Korsar/Loot – original use of cards, as players play both merchant ships and the pirates that are trying to plunder them. This was a favorite "closer" to my youth group game nights.

Geschenkt/No Thanks! – so simple yet so different than any other card game, employing an interesting type of bidding (pay to pass on bad cards) and scoring.

PARTY GAMES:

These are the types of games you can pull out with people who say they do not like games, or for creative people who do not enjoy spending their free time doing mathematical exercises.

Apples to Apples – easy and funny, as long as you don’t overdo it.

Barbarossa – great game about guessing other people’s clay sculptures, it innovated the “don’t make it to difficult or too easy” mechanism.

Dixit – borrowed this mechanism and replaced the clay with a deck of fantastically illustrated cards.

Freeze – Improv comedy skits for average people—it’s loads of laughs and players noticeably improve in their skills during the course of the game.

Hossa – game of singing songs that include key words or topics, and everyone can sing along!

Was n' Das? – using odd objects to describe something from a ten-item list, and the players who guess the correct answer the fastest score the most points.

Merry Christmas, and enjoy the gift of gaming with friends and family! - Jeff

Birthday Games

2011-12-12T02:44:00.000-08:00

December birthdays are often not celebrated as intensely as those that occur in the less eventful months between holidays. My birthday was last week, and once again, I did not have the energy to throw a big party for myself and my friends, as there is a constant stream of them from November to January. As Americans living in Berlin, we celebrate our own traditions and adopt many of the German ones. This means that we invite our friends over for a Thanksgiving feast in November, then celebrate Advent in the traditional German manner with cookies and hot beverages. We have also adopted the German tradition of Nikolaustag on December 6, when children place their shoes outside their door and Saint Nikolas places small gifts and chocolate in them while they sleep. We eat a traditional Bratwurst and Sauerkraut dinner on Christmas Eve as our Berlin friends do, but we open our presents on Christmas Day, as is the tradition Stateside.

In any case, there is so much to do, and we already have so many guests for the other events, that I rarely have enough energy to plan yet another party for myself. Instead, I usually opt for a quiet evening celebration with my wife and children. Since my twin sons are now 5 years old and enjoy playing games, I decided to take the family to the Spielwiese gaming café this year for my birthday.

The café is always a great place to meet with other gamers and designers, whether playing new releases or testing prototypes, but it also has a very family-friendly atmosphere, where my sons can enjoy a hot cocoa and choose from a wide array of children's games.

Of course, the boys were immediately drawn to some of the large boxes displaying fantasy art, as they are currently drawn to anything involving knights and dragons. But after I directed them to the children’s shelves, they also found plenty of options that were appropriate for their age.

We started with Da ist der Wurm drinn (There's the Wurm!), something I also wanted to play, as it was the newest Kinderspiel des Jahres winner. The game has the usual nice Zoch production values, and is a race game in the same vein as Tempo, Kleine Schnecke. In other words, it depends entirely on the roll of the dice, and the starting player has an advantage. The element that makes the game different is that the worms are pushed through “underground tunnels” sandwiched between two game boards, and there are two places where their progress can be viewed through holes in the board. There are worm sections of different lengths in different colors (each section 1 cm longer than the last, which gives the game an educational selling point). On a turn, you roll the 6-colored die, take the matching worm section and push it into your worms hole, which pushes your worm’s starting “head” tile closer to the finish. The only way to catch up to someone who rolls well (or is the starting player) is to bet on which worm will first reach each of the two holes in the ground. A correct bet awards the player with a bonus piece to add to his or her worm. That’s all there really is to it, and although the boys had fun seeing their worms appear in the holes, it wasn’t all that interesting for the parents. I had expected more from “game of the year.” The experience of playing the game with my family was fun, but I will not be buying this to put under our Tannenbaum this year.

Next, one of my sons spotted Loupin’ Louie, a game we have played many times at home, and we couldn’t resist a round in the café. The game is great, silly fun, especially for the son who would like to be a pilot someday. One problem I have with the game, however, is that one can easily cheat by simply holding the lever down, which is enough to keep the plane from striking any of the chicken chips. The boys also like to hit their levers too hard, although it usually has the result of knocking their own chips out, so that problem usually solves itself. The game is still widely available in most large departments stores in Berlin for 15 Euro.

We ended the evening with a game of Lotti Karrotti (Funny Bunny), another large, plastic game from Ravensburger. Michael from the Spielwiese told me that it was the “German Candyland,” in that it was the children’s game that every family in Germany has owned for generations. I was pleased to find out that the rules are, however, quite unlike Candyland: players actually get to make choices in this game! The “board” consists of a big, green plastic hill with a giant carrot in the middle and a path of spaces leading from the outside inward. Each player has 6 bunnies in one color, and the goal is to be the first player to reach the carrot with one of his or her bunnies. There is a deck of movement cards with 1-3 spaces on them. Each turn, a player draws a card and moves one of his bunnies that number of spaces on the path. Occupied spaces are skipped. The catch is that there is a hole showing in one of these spaces. There are also “Carrot Cards” mixed in the deck, and when one of these is drawn, that player turns the carrot and the hole changes to a different location. If there is a bunny there, then the bunny drops into the hill and is never seen again until the end of the game! There are safe spaces, and there are spaces where the hole can show up, which gives the children (and adults) an opportunity to decide when to take risks. Having 6 bunnies (at least, before they start dropping down holes) also gives the players plenty of decisions for each simple movement card drawn. Do I move my lead bunny ahead to a risky position where it could drop through a hole, or do I move a bunny that is farther back onto a “safe” space? Also, since occupied spaces are skipped over, there is a temptation to use a chain of bunnies to move one of yours from the back to the front of the pack quickly, even if it lands on a high-risk space. It’s a great children’s game, filled with interesting decisions and risk-management, and the “toy factor” of turning the carrot and watching daddy’s bunny fall through the hole is fun for the kids.

I’ve often said that children’s games are harder to design than complex adult strategy games, and my birthday gaming confirmed that. It is very difficult to design a game that keeps a child’s interest and is equally exciting for the parents. It is even harder to design something original in this category, as there has been so much done before. Most children’s games are slight variations on games that have been done before—at least half of them, for example, are variations of Memory. That’s why I would rank Heinz Meister as one of the greatest game designers currently working in the industry. Many gamers may not recognize the name, but over the years he has quietly built a huge catalogue of children’s games that are original, interesting mechanically and fun to play for young and old.

Learning from Penn State

2011-11-17T03:10:00.000-08:00

For anyone from the United States, the subject of child molestation and preventing sexual abuse has, again, come to the forefront. It should not be surprising to anyone, as recent statistics have reported a staggering number of child victims (1 in 6 boys and 1 in 4 girls).

What is shocking to most people in this case, but unfortunately all too common, is the lack of action taken by authorities when abuse was initially reported. Unfortunately that, too is all too common. In the Penn State case, it appears that protecting the revered institutions of its university and its football program were more important than taking the claims of child victims seriously.

This happened in the world of high-stakes sports, but it can happen anywhere.

Yes, even in the game room.

Protecting Your Children and Yourself

Anyone who is a parent or works with children or youth needs to take note of the dangers and take appropriate precautions. Idealism and naiveté are no longer excusable when it comes to protecting our children from sexual abuse.

Protecting Your Children

Education: If you are a parent, then sex education needs to start almost immediately. This does not mean telling them every detail, of course (and thus sexualizing them at a young age), but it does mean making it part of the normal learning environment you maintain in your home. The body should be talked about as freely as colors, numbers, and letters. It should not be joked about, nor should nick-names be given to a child’s sexual organs, as these are common tactics used by child predators.

It is also important that, during this time, children know that their bodies belong to them, and that others touching certain areas of their bodies is inappropriate. If someone does something that makes them feel uncomfortable, they need to tell that person right away and then tell you. You can then assure them that you will do everything in your power to protect them.

Situation: Proper education and openness is vital, but it is not enough. No matter how much you empower your child, you are still responsible for making sure he or she is not put into potentially vulnerable situations. This does not mean that the parent has to watch the child 24 hours a day, but it does mean keeping an eye on that child’s activities and potential problems. Adults—and especially experienced offenders—know how to coerce even the strongest children, when given the opportunity.

For example, your child should not be left alone in a room with any adult, no matter how much you trust him or her, as most offenders are people trusted by the parents and children. If a child has a private music lesson in a closed room, it is your responsibility to be there with him or her.

The same goes for a game night. Basements may be great for stashing a big game collection and gaming table, but they are also secluded from the rest of the house. If an adult is hosting, and no one else shows up so that your child is alone with him or her, that child needs to come home—or both of them can come to your house to game.

Also make sure to ask your child about his or her gaming group and gaming experiences. Open communication and interest on your part is important in building trust in your relationship, and it will also help you be more aware of things that your child is dealing with—and may even provide some early warning signs that sexual abuse may be happening.

If it does happen, then report the incident immediately to the police, and follow up if they do not. It is also your responsibility to warn other parents whose children attend that game group. The parents can agree to keep your child's identity anonymous, and can work together to find an alternative gaming group.

Protecting Yourself

As an adult, it is also important to keep yourself out of situations in which others could suspect you of inappropriate contact with children or youth. Being aware of the dangers and an awareness of others' perceptions can both assure the child’s parents and even help to educate them in protecting their child elsewhere.

When I held game nights with young people at my home, for example, I tried to do it when my family was present. Later, we met in one of the boys' apartment, with his mother present.

Better yet is to meet in a public café or storefront space that is visible from the outside. Those are the kinds of places in which I do most of my gaming these days, and the transparency has been appreciated by the parents of those youth who have participated.

Parents unfortunately need to be suspicious these days, and adult gamers can go a long way to build trust and an atmosphere of fun and openness by avoiding suspicious situations.

Things NOT to Say When Pitching to a Publisher

2011-11-12T14:31:00.000-08:00

Your game idea has been lovingly and painstakingly transformed into a playable prototype, and you've received enough encouraging feedback from your playtesters that you are ready to present it to publishers. There are quite a few blogs and books out there describing the way you should act and the things you should say. Here are a few things you should avoid saying if you'd ever like to see your name on a cardboard box:

Pitching a game to Hanno Girke in Nuremberg. How did it go?
Let me answer this way: have you seen my name on a Lookout Games box yet?

1. My family loves playing this.

2. This game could finally add some class to your company's line.

3. It plays like Snakes & Ladders on steroids...in fact, I was on steroids when I designed it.

4. This game is about...wait...let me look at the rules sheet again...

5. I haven't really had much time to playtest this.

6. This game is so original, I had it patented.

7. I love your "Game X," by the way...wait--"Game X" is from a different publisher? Oops.

8. This is much better than that awful "Game Y"...wait--"Game Y" is your game? Oops.

9. It takes anywhere from 30 minutes to 5 hours to play.

10. This is sort of like Monopoly.

11. It only has 50 pages of rules and about 300 game pieces.

12. I'm not sure about this rule here...how do you think it should work?

13. Please...DON'T touch the prototype!

14. I know you've only done children's games in the past, but don't you think it's time to branch out into the Zombie role playing genre?

15. I only sign contracts in which I have "final cut." Oh--and no green M&M's at my box-autograph sessions.

16. This game will make us all rich!

17. I know this looks like a simple roll and move affair, but it's the event cards that really make the game!

18. I have all the files here for you to make your own prototype for testing.

19. What? You aren't interested? Are you nuts?

20. I'm serious...this could win Spiel des Jahres...or, at least, a Mensa Mind Games award...

Feel free to add your favorites, both real and imagined. And "happy pitching" to you..

EDIT: by the way, I'm not a publisher, but I've made my share of pitches and also heard many from first-time game designers wanting me to play their prototypes. Unfortunately, I've actually heard some of the items on this list (#1, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 11, 12, 16). Someday, I'll write about my "misadventures in playtesting."

Finding my Game Titles in Unexpected Places

2011-11-06T08:28:00.000-08:00

My sons were at their very first "sleep-over" at a friend's house last night, and my wife and I took advantage of a babysitter-free night to hit the town. We headed over to the west side Charlottenburg Palace to take in a Baroque concert, but first we stopped by a popular brewery across from the palace for dinner. The brewery had changed owners since I was last here, and I was surprised to see the same word game that was used for the title of one of my board games, Eine Frage der Ähre. Normally, the saying is "Eine Frage der Ehre" which means "a question of honor," whereas Ähre is pronounced the same way but means "ears of wheat or corn." It fit my farming game perfectly, and it seems to be a good marketing slogan for a brewery as well. Perhaps I can re-theme the game and sell it through the brewery?

The banners outside the brewery

A short while ago, I also noticed a photo in one of Berlin's largest newspapers, the Berliner Morgenpost. Since my game, Aber bitte mit Sahne, was named after a famous German song, it's no surprise that other media would also use this reference. I have to admit, the real cakes look even more delicious than the illustrated pieces of the game!

"High end, or how it is at mother's house--ten tips for coffee and cake"

2011 After Essen Party

2011-10-31T15:09:00.000-07:00

The Essen SPIEL convention 2011 has come and gone, and so has the Spielwiese's After Essen Party. I've added photos of this year's festivities to the After Essen page.

Serving up Dice Cakes to commemorate the last 5 years of gaming and After Essen Parties at the Spielwiese!

POSTCARD FROM ESSEN

2011-10-23T12:38:00.000-07:00

After a brief 3-hour train ride Wednesday evening, I finally found myself in an Essen guest apartment, anxiously awaiting my first SPIEL fair. My housemates were fellow Berliner and game designer Günter Cornett (Hey, That's My Fish!), designer Stefan Risthaus (Monuments, Level X, Ostia) and his family, and a friendly group of Gamers from Bremen (and fellow Berlin designer Peer Sylvester (Singapore, King of Siam) would join us Friday night). I could hardly sleep, but went to bed so that I could awake in time to make it to the convention center early enough to utilize my 1-hour early pass.

Thursday: Initiation
Thursday morning after the traditional German breakfast of coffee with fresh rolls from the corner bakery, I marched around the convention halls to get an overview of the different booths, which were still being hurriedly set up (and many games were just arriving or on their way). Sheets of cardboard were being punched and games were being set up on tables, while others were stacking boxes and marking prices. When the crowds were allowed in at 10:00, however, all eyes focused on the potential customers and the marathon demoing sessions began.

I said quick hello’s to Cwali’s Corne van Morsel, Bernd Eisenstein at his Irongames booth, and Günter at his Bambus booth. Then I met Michael from the Spielwiese and he gave me a tour of the facility, showing me where the different publishers were located. I made all my new-game purchases based on rules and previews I’d read: Eclipse, which I had pre-ordered (although I honestly don’t know when I will have time to study the rules and get such an involved game to the table), Walnut Grove (a worker-placement tile-laying game with a Little House on the Prairie theme, and I still think they should have included a Laura Ingles vs. Nelly Olsen direct conflict expansion giveaway), Friday (a solo game that couldn’t fit the theme better), The City (Race for the Galaxy for families—I’m in), Ruhm um Rom (a German version of Glory to Rome, as I finally had to see what all the hubbub is about), and the Japanese game Master Merchant (as I wanted to have at least one independent game that would not be available anywhere else, and Dale’s description sounded intriguing). There were many more games in which I was interested, but most of them were by Berlin designers and mainstream German companies and would be easy for me to get later (Hawaii, Singapore, and Frigiti, for example).

With my shopping out of the way, I was able to spend the rest of the day meeting people I knew and others I had always wanted to meet. I dropped by Bezier Games where I was finally exposed to Ted Alspach’s unique sense of humor first-hand. He showed me his prototype for Mutant Meeples, which looked like great fun for fans of Richochet Robots, and it had a nice catch-up mechanism for players who might get off to a slow start. I also took advantage of a special offer for his older Beer & Pretzels game and got the “purple coaster expansion.”

While I was there, I was excited to see Patrick Korner a.k.a. “the Game Mule” stroll up and introduce himself. I used to pour over his articles on the old Gamewire site when I was first exposed to the hobby almost 10 years ago. I still remember his enthusiastic description of Caylus back then, when Ytsari allowed him to put together his own prototype for an early look at the game before it was published. Yes, that was still BWPE (Before the Worker Placement Era).

I also had the chance to squeeze into a game of Nefarious that was just beginning. I was actually looking more forward to meeting Ascora Games’ Scott Tepper, as we had corresponded often over the years, but he was busy explaining and selling the game. I decided to try to catch him another day before the crowds came in.

As crowded as the Messe was, I was surprised at how many people I literally “bumped into.” Earlier that morning, for example, I saw Seth Davis, a native Bostonian who has been living in Norway and joined us at the Spielwiese in Berlin. Later, I saw a German friend, Nils, who had been in our gaming group in Berlin for awhile before moving to Britain. And then I bumped into Californian Sam Brown who had joined our Berlin game designers group for many months while he was living there a year ago. He just successfully kickstarted his new fantasy wargame, Lyssan, and we ran into each other at one of the game retailers. It was about lunchtime, so we decided to eat together at the cafeteria to catch up and show each other our latest prototypes. Unfortunately, we were harassed by the staff, who thought we were about to tie up the table with a long game, so we had to hold up the game boards and cards to show each other (“No games on the tables!”). I had a prototype of the near-finished artwork for my upcoming game, Nieuw Amsterdam, and the publisher had given me the bits back from the older prototype. At the end of our meal, I dumped out the old tiles and cards onto my plate to carry to the trash, and Sam and I decided to have a little fun with it. He later sent me this photo with the caption: “Jeff Allers eats prototypes for lunch!”

I next headed over to the Cambridge Games Factory booth and was happy to see that 99% of my new game, Pala, had arrived. I also had the pleasure of meeting game designer Jeremiah Lee (Zombie in My Pocket), graphic designer Heiko Günther, and Wakefield Carter for first time. While they were still putting the cards and chips together for the first copies of Pala, an English gentlemen came over specifically looking for the game, and I witnessed the first sale of the game at Essen.

I then dropped by the huge Qwirkle booth to finally meet designer Susan McKinnley Ross, who was signing Qwirkle bags. I still have the first copy of the game to make it onto German soil, brought over to me in 2007 by W. Eric Martin and his wife Linda. It was back then that Schmidt Spiele editor Thorsten Gimmler was first exposed to the game at my After Essen Party in the Spielewiese, and Susan and her husband, Chris invited Eric, Thorsten, Michael from the Spielwiese and me to dinner that night. Thorsten could not make it due to a Schmidt Spiele appointment, but the rest of us had a wonderful evening at La Turka restaurant. Eric even posted a photo of his desert on BGG. It was interesting to hear the "design notes" first hand from Susan and Chris and discover some interesting tidbits. One example was that, at one time, the game had 8 colors and 8 symbols! It was also interesting to learn why Eric will never buy another music CD.

Friday: Playing Games
Greg Daigle and I had never met before, but we had a mutual friend in Larry Levy and have both been courting the same German publishers with our prototypes for years. We decided to meet that morning at 9:00 before the official entry in order to get to know each other and play his first published design, Hawaii. On our way to the empty tables, we bumped into Dale Yu along with his brother, Mattel designer Brian and fellowDominion developer Valeria Putman.

Photo courtesy of Dale Yu

After getting a copy of Hawaii and chatting for a while, we broke out the game to try. A German couple joined us for a 4-player game. It was a great game and even signals a return by Hans im Glück to more complex games aimed at gamers. The funny thing was that Greg had to look at the rules a few times, and he even discovered afterward that we got a rule wrong. Gamers are often surprised by this, but the fact is that publishers like to tweak designs, and oftentimes designers don’t get the opportunity to playtest the changes before the game is released. Of course, changes made by good developers, like those at Hans im Glück, are usually for the better.

Afterwards, Greg and I both wanted to meet Stuart Dagger, as we were fans of Counter Magazine, and Stuart had kindly given me some good email advice on things to see in Scotland when I was there with my family last spring. When we found him and introduced ourselves, I realized that he was the man who had bought the first copy of Pala while I was at the CGF booth the day before! We had a great chat with the Essen convention veteran from Aberdeen.

I met design/publish couple Rory O’Conner and Anita Murphy from Northern Ireland for lunch in the cafeteria. They had contacted me last summer, as they were going to be in Berlin for a month and wanted to attend my game designer’s group at the Spielwiese. I was in the U.S. during that time and missed them, but I helped connect them to Michael and the other designers there. We had a nice talk about alternative game designs, and they gave me a copy of their Rory’s Story Cubes. Hopefully they will be able to come to Berlin again when I’m in town.

I went back to Hall 4 afterwards to check out some of the small publishers, playing a few rounds of Drum Roll, which had beautiful art although it seemed to be more of a resource management game than a themed circus game. I then watched a demo of the prototype for Black Dove’s 3M game (Murder Mystery Mayhem, I think). It was a fairly involved deduction game with incredible components, including magnetic boards for each player to track information.

Then I stopped by CGF again and finally had the chance to play Pala with the finished graphics—and the finished rules. Just as with Greg and Hawaii, I had not had the chance to play all the changes that developer Rob Seater had made to the game, including one of the forms of bidding. I have to give credit to Rob—the game turned out great. The two bidding mechanisms provide two very different games in the same box (although the version with the chips is the most intuitive), and a few other key rules changes take the chaos out of the game and give the players more control and room for strategy. The CGF guys said they were playing it at a pub for hours the night before and loved it, and their experience showed as they destroyed me in a couple of 3-player games. I’m not the most skilled trick-taking game player, anyway, so the fact that it was difficult for me to win is probably a good sign.

Afterwards I dropped by to see fellow Berlin designer Andrea Meyer and her new game,Frigiti, in progress. It’s similar to Balderdash, except in this case, there are no correct definitions, as the words are made up from the dice rolled. It is definitely a game that is more about humor than determining who wins, of course, and it looked like fun—for anyone who posseses a sense of humor, at least! Andrea said that there were many publishers interested and we can expect to see a much wider release of this game in the future.

Before I left, I took a look at Jonathan Franklin’s Fistfull of Penguins. When a couple of friendly men from Zurich joined me, we decided to give the game a go. It was fun and just the right game length, the bits were nice, and the price was great—only 11 Euro—but, unfortunately, the 200 copies they had brought with them had already sold out.

After playing a life-sized game of Tokyo Train on the Essen subway system (in which I bumped into Greg again, literally), I headed back to the apartment, where I taught StefanPAX. We played a 2-player game, which was the first time I had played it with that number. It worked great, and it was helpful for me to practice teaching the game, as I volunteered to fill in a demoing time slot for designer/publisher Bernd Eisenstein the next day.

Saturday: Crowds and Appointments
For my last day of the fair, I had a full schedule of appointments with publishers to discuss projects in the works and show new prototypes.

First, however, I was finally able to meet Scott Tepper in person, catching a few moments with him before the 10 O’Clock Saturday “rush hour.”

Then, three booths down from Ascora at Irongames, I had my first experience demoing games along with Berlin friend, Alfred. In the process, I was able to play two more games of PAX, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Bernd is a friend, but this really was my personal hit of the fair.

While at the booth, I happened to see my friend and game designer/artist Christoph Tisch. We decided to meet for lunch, and he brought along Moritz Eggert, founder of the Munich-based Westpark Gamers, and a young Greek couple from the island of Paros who have “gamer’s apartments” for tourists. Although I’ve never stayed in the “Alea Apartments,” my wife and I were in Naoussa, the town where they are located, and it is a beautiful area. The couple were very nice, too, and Moritz said it was a great place to stay.

After an appointment with a publisher, I made a quick visit to the Spielworxx booth to say high to Uli Blennemann. Uli used to work for Phalanx Germany and had been interested in two of my games at that time, including what would become Alea Iacta Estand a forthcoming archeology game co-designed with Bernd tentatively called Artifact. It was a pleasure to send prototypes to him, as he always responded quickly and with very helpful feedback. I wanted to thank him, as his critiques and encouragement helped Bernd and I to get Artifact to the level it needed to be to place in the top 6 of Hippodice competition (along with Hansa Teutonica that year). The game is now almost ready for an early 2012 release.

I dropped by the CGF booth again to grab an extra copy of Pala for the After Essen Party and saw a family playing the game. When I asked if they were enjoying it, I suddenly realized that it was Uli, the woman who discovered my game Aber Bitte mit Sahne/Piece o’ Cake in Göttingen in 2006 and developed it for Winning Moves Germany. It was her idea to use 11 slices each round instead of 10. She no longer works in the industry and was there to enjoy the new games with her family. I thanked her again for all the behind the scenes work she did on Sahne. The designer may get his or her name on the box, but developers like her, Blennemann, Rob Seater and Pegasus' Andre Bronswijk are the uncredited co-designers and deserve much of the credit for a game’s success.

After a few more appointments with publishers, it was time to pick up my bags and head to the train station. Once there I found out that I was on the same train as my friend, Daniel from the Spielwiese. His couch-surfing hosts even showed up to see him off at the train station. Then Peer walked up with his luggage, and we realized that we were sitting right next to each other! Daniel had a seat with a table, however, and as soon as the person in the other seat got off the train, Peer and I joined him to play a couple of quick card games I had picked up. Both Master Merchant and The City were light fun, although Peer trounced us both times.

We arrived in Berlin just after midnight, and the city that never sleeps was bustling. After three days of games and gamers, however, I was ready to get back to my own bed.

My first SPIEL had come and gone, and it was a great experience to have finally been a part of it.

Essen Schedule

2011-10-18T11:33:00.000-07:00

I'm in the midst of last-minute preparations to attend my first-ever SPIELmesse in Essen. I am looking forward to meeting more of the international gaming community there, and finally experiencing the excitement of the convention live and in person. I had been excited about the planned release of two of my biggest and most complex games to date, but as often happens in this business, both were postponed until 2012. The sudden announcement of the release of my card game, Pala, helped to diminish this disappointment, but it now appears that any copies that make it to the show will be incomplete.

Although these events could be discouraging, I'm looking at the bright side and am thankful for the freedom I have to spend time with gamers, designers, and publishers from around the world. Although I have a few appointments with publishers to talk about prototypes and future releases, I will be free from demoing my games continuously (although I will be demoing for friend Bernd Eisenstein's games for a bit).

If you are planning to attend SPIEL this week and you see me there, please don't be shy and introduce yourself. Following is a rough schedule of my week:

Wednesday:

Evening train to Essen from Berlin. While on the train: work on my lecture for the Technical University Berlin, look over game rules for new Essen releases, and review my own prototype game rules. Stay with Günter Cornett and others in a hostel in Essen just a few tram stops from the Hauptbahnhof.

Thursday:

9:00 Arrive in time for early entrance for SAZ members.

Start at Cambridge Games Factory (Booth 4-231) to see final version of Pala.

Stop by White Goblin Games (Booth 5-01) to touch base about future releases, look over prototype version of 2012 release Nieuw Amsterdam, etc.

Touch base with Bernd at his Irongames booth (5-92)

Meet people I've only known online until now: Scott Teppper at his Ascora booth (5-100), Ted Alspach at his Bezier booth (5-100), and Counter Magazine's Stuart Dagger and Alan Howe at Treefrog Games booth (5-26).

Check out games I'm interested in: Czech Games Edition's Last Will, Lookout Game's Walnut Grove and Ruhm für Rom, Asmodee's Eclipse and Mundus Novaus, Cwali's Ab in die Tonne, and 2-F Spiele's Friday.

Visit my friends from Black Dove Games (Booth 4-318).

Pick up some bits at Spielmaterial.de (Booths 9-33 & 11-10)

17:00 visit Boardgamegeek and W. Eric Martin

19:00 Dinner with 2011 Spiel des Jahres winner Susan MicKinnley-Ross, Eric, Schmidt Spiele's Thorsten Gimmler, and Michael Schmitt from the Spielwiese.

Afterwards drop by the SAZ Game Night in a local pub.

Friday

10:00 meet Greg Daigle at the Hans im Glück booth and look at his first published game, Hawaii

13:00 meet Irish game designer Rory O’Conner for lunch

Visit booths, meet personalities, and look at games that I did not get to on Thursday.

Saturday

10:00-12:00 demo PAX and Pergamemnon at Bernd’s Irongames booth (5-91)

13:00-14:00 meet with a publisher to discuss a prototype under development

15:00-17:00 White Goblin Games (booth 5-01) playest/present prototype of 2012 release Nieuw Amsterdam.

17:00-18:00 meet with a publisher to discuss a prototype under development

Catch the evening train for Berlin, continue work on university lecture.

Tuesday
After-Essen Party in the Spielwiese in Berlin!

Lecturing @ Berlin's Technical University

2011-10-14T06:37:00.000-07:00

“You were predestined for this, Jeff,” Hartmut wrote in a reply to an email sent out to several Berlin game designers. It was a request from Berlin’s Technical University. Their first-year architecture students were beginning the semester with a project on board game design, and they were looking for a game designer to give a lecture on the subject. The faculty had contacted the Spieleautorenzunft (Game Designer’s Association) which, in turn, forwarded the request to me and the other Berlin members of the organization. The problem was that the semester would begin the same week as the Essen SPIEL game fair, which all of us were attending. “They are not flexible in the date of the lecture,” the email read. But , thanks to Hartmut’s comment, I decided to see if I could convince them otherwise. After all, who would be better to lecture to architecture students about game design than a former architect who was now a game designer? After writing to the faculty, they agreed and postponed the lecture to the week after Essen.

I enjoy the academic atmosphere so much that I could easily envision a career as a university professor—or, at least, as a professional student. And nothing excites me more in a university than perusing the architecture studios, meeting young students from all over the world honing their creative skills, as I squeeze in between the myriad of drawings and models that are always a “work in progress." Finally, it is especially exhilerating to see the wide diversity of design solutions that are brought out for the final presentations. In fact, I enjoy attending the Goettingen Game Designer’s Meeting for the very reason that it reminds me of the studio setting.

And so I now have the unexpected privilege of lecturing to architecture students about the architecture of game design. The title is, appropriately, "The Architecture of Play: An Inescapable Art."

I could also call it "the best of both worlds."

Prototype2Publisher: PALA

2011-10-01T14:22:00.000-07:00

Preparing the Canvas

Back in 2005, I was still working my way through the vast archive of classic German boardgames. At the same time, I was refining my own ideas so that I would finally feel confident enough to bring them to my Monday night gaming group—one that included several established designers as well as others who soon would be.

I had learned German back in the mid 90's when I had first moved to Berlin, but entering into the world of game design felt like language learning all over again. And although it was important for me to master the grammar of game mechanics, it was the theme of each game idea that inspired me the most, in the same way that the content of poetry moves me more than rhyme or meter. Or the way that, as an architect, I was much more interested in the spaces and forms created and the concepts communicated than the structural calculations (that is why we have structural engineers, after all).

In any case, I was on the hunt for themes I had not yet seen, confident that new and interesting mechanics would automatically follow. One of those early designs was about ticket scalping, and it turned into the published game, Circus Maximus, released in 2008. Another dealt with one of my favorite pastimes of that period: painting.

The First Brush Strokes

One of the most interesting parts of painting, especially with oil or acrylic, is searching for the right colors, which usually involves mixing several preset colors on the painting palette. This actually feels very much like a game, and I thought to myself (in 2005, mind you), “THIS is an original theme!”

I jotted down ideas for games of different types and genres, but finally focused on a trick taking card game mechanic. The first version included a real wooden palette as a small game board, and I painted spots of the three primary and three secondary colors onto it. Each player received a hand of numbered cards in 6 suites (again, 3 primary, 3 secondary), and one colored 6-sided die. The die was used to bid on a particular color, secretly and simultaneously. For each secondary color that was bid, a trick was worth +1 point that round, while for each primary color bid, a trick was worth +2 points. All primary colors not bid were, on the other hand, worth -1 point per trick, while the secondary colors not bid were worth -2 points per trick.

But it was the color mixing that made this different than any other trick taking game I had played, and this was the core idea of the game: if a player led a trick in a primary color, another player could later change the color of the trick to a secondary color by mixing it with another primary. Likewise, a player could follow suite on a secondary trick by playing the two corresponding primary cards. The opportunity to play two cards instead of one at key moments led to some interesting hand management challenges. Since the cards would be added together, I made the secondary cards have higher number values than the primaries.

And although I am, as mentioned, a “theme” and “concept” type of designer, once I got that part nailed down, I did not shy away from doing the math. I soon had the numbers on the cards balanced enough to take the game to my group.

Exhibiting the Work

In the Spring of 2006, I tested the game with new friends Bernd Eisenstein and Peer Sylvester, and Peer liked the game so much, he later declared it his favorite prototype of the year on his blog, and was even partially inspired by it to create one of his own trick taking games, later published as Filipino Fruit Market. For his part, Bernd suggested the name, Pala, which has stuck ever since.

One idea that came after the initial playtesting was to discard the painting palette and dice in favor of using only cards. Instead, I had a bidding card for each color with the corresponding negative value, and then added the positive values to one side of each of the other cards. This required each player to sacrifice one card from her best color to bid, which formed a row of bid cards in the middle of the table showing both positive and negative points for that hand. The mechanism worked beautifully, and I was anxious to present it to publishers.

In June of that year, I took it to the Game Designer’s Convention in Göttingen. While playing the game with several publishers, I probably made a first-timer’s mistake by trouncing them both. They joked that I was supposed to let them win, and I confessed that I had skipped the workshop for "Pitching to Publishers" that day. But they left the table without requesting a prototype, and I was left to wonder if they were only half-joking.

I later tried to send the game to a publisher who releases a number of mass-market card games every year, but they returned the game several months later, claiming that it was too heady for their test groups.

Soon after the prototype was returned to me, I saw a note from Ed Carter seeking games for his Cambridge Games Factory. I thought it would be interesting to try to work with a smaller publisher—and one from the U.S. at that—and sent him the rules to Pala. Ed wrote me back with a contract after testing the game with his MIT group, and was excited about publishing the game soon.

He turned over the development of the game to Rob Seater, who has given me some of the most thorough written feedback and analysis of any game developer I have worked with. He soon became the “structural engineer” compliment to my artistic sensibilities, and I enjoyed working through his ideas with him.

As is often the case with publishers large and small, however, the project was delayed for some time, and I moved on to develop other game ideas. I even toyed with using the idea of color mixing in a board game until the arrival of Fresco, soon followed by Pastiche. It was still a pleasant surprise, however, to hear that CGF was shooting for an Essen 2011 release for the game, especially since I would finally be attending the fair myself. Color mixing may not be a “new” idea for a game anymore, but at least this would still be its first implementation as a trick taking card game.

In the meantime, Rob had playtested the game extensively with fans of trick taking card games, and through further study of the genre, had come up with alternate ways of bidding that they preferred. He cleverly named them after painting styles. In the Impressionism variant, which more closely resembles my bidding mechanism, players collectively determine the value of different colors (suits) by discarding cards from their hands before the round begins. Points are bad, analogous to Hearts. In the Pointillism variant, however, players bid with colored chips to indicate the colors they expect to win, but over-bidding risks losing all a player’s points for the round. Points are good, analogous to Spades.

New bidding board sketches, courtesy of Rob Seater

Once players learn the core mechanism of the game, the way colors are played and mixed to take tricks (or force others to take tricks), the two variations in bidding and scoring can be picked up easily and interchanged to offer variety to fans of trick taking games.

Although a painting may have a tendency to increase in value after its creators’ death, I hope—now that it’s finally being published—I’ll be able to see many people enjoying Pala a long time before I’m gone.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN: Where Designs are Discovered

2011-10-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

Editor's note: this was originally published in July, 2006 on Boardgamenews.com.

October is a magic month for those in the board game scene. The SPIEL convention has become such a big event for designers and publishers—as well as a sort of pilgrimage for gamers—that the Mecca of board gaming conventions is referred to simply by its location: Essen. But there is another meeting in Germany that does not receive as much coverage outside the Fatherland. It’s the Essen before Essen—the annual Game Designer’s Convention that shows a glimpse into the future of German board gaming. And like Essen, it has become so big that it, too, is referred to only by the name of the city hosting the event: Göttingen.

Showing games to publishers at my table in Göttingen.

Twenty-five years ago, German game designer Reinhold Wittig started the Spieleautorentreff when he invited fellow designers, journalists, and game company representatives to his home town for a weekend. Since then, the Game Designer’s Convention has become the largest annual event of its kind in the world. What began with about 50 participants now includes at least 200 each year, and hundreds of the approximately 7000 game prototypes shown there over its history have been published. Some, such as The Amazing Labyrinth, Barbarossa, and Adel Verpflichtet (Hoity Toity) have even gone on to win prestigious awards and become board game classics.

I had heard quite a lot about Göttingen over the past several years from the designers in my Berlin gaming group who would make the annual trek to central Germany to demonstrate their latest ideas and network with other authors. Several of my own prototypes had been getting enough positive feedback from them that I finally decided to experience it for myself. I wasn’t expecting to be “discovered” the way Klaus Teuber was, mind you, but I did feel confident enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself. After all, designing a hit game seems to me to be a bit like writing a hit song or film—you can put all you have into it, but there is so much competition and, in the end, there are just too many variables outside of one’s control. Göttingen, however, does a lot to give designers a chance to meet face-to-face with the biggies in German game publishing, and that certainly cannot hurt one’s chances.

I also benefited immensely from the advice and experience of Göttingen and game designing veteran Hartmut Kommerell. Together with his 11-year-old son Clemens, and another friend and designer Peer Sylvester, we packed up our prototypes and took off on the Autobahn for a weekend in Göttingen.
It was funny to examine our luggage: Peer especially had packed relatively light with a small duffle bag of clothes and toiletries—but sported a huge backpack full of game prototypes. “I just brought everything!” he defended. Hartmut brought about as many, and I brought the five games that I had tested the most over the past year, as well as another from friend Bernd Eisenstein to present to a publisher who was interested. Even Clemens had a game to show at Göttingen, and was more than willing to offer a few tips to the newbie among them.

It was a beautiful day, the traffic was light, and so I took the opportunity to bombard Hartmut with questions about the German game industry. One major difference with American game companies seems to be the amount of legalism and paperwork. In the U.S., a company will not accept a prototype without a release form from the designer, fearing legal action if they happen to already be working on a similar concept. In turn, designers are encouraged to have their own forms for the companies to sign, so that they agree not to divulge the designer’s ideas to any other company or designer, should they decline to publish it themselves.

In Germany, however, these types of forms are rarely exchanged. Prototypes are handed off freely, game publishers even pay to send them back if they turn them down, often including comments detailing why it wasn’t considered and even constructive criticism in how to improve the design.

I sensed through our conversation that there seems to be a level of trust and cooperation in the game designing community here, a feeling that would only be reinforced by the Göttingen meeting.
It was about a 4-hour drive, so there was plenty of time for every topic imaginable, including a few random ideas for games thrown around. After taking a number of shortcuts through Berlin to get onto the Autobahn, Clemens and I started to think of designing a game called “Schleichweg” (shortcut), partly because it would be funny to see how American gamers would pronounce it.

Unfortunately, I am not much of a multi-tasker, and as Peer and I lamented Dirk Nowitsky’s blown opportunity to win an NBA ring, I missed a major exit. Fortunately, Hartmut was able to guide us through another Schleichweg, which brought us back on track.

Hartmut, Clemens, and I had decided to camp outside Göttingen, since it had been nice weather. After pitching our tents, we ate dinner with Peer, who was staying in a bed & breakfast with several other Berlin authors, and brought out a couple of prototypes to try, while keeping an eye on the World Cup showing on the restaurant’s TV.

Afterwards, we tried to catch some sleep before the big day, but our tents had been surrounded by groups of German youths who had decided to turn up the volume on their techno music several times during the early morning hours. Hartmut finally told them “enough is enough” at about 3 a.m., but one boy argued, “C’mon, you were my age once!” “Yeah,” Hartmut responded, “and I didn’t get away with this kind of thing, either!”

The next morning, we made the quick drive into Göttingen and walked down the quaint pedestrian-only streets to the department store Karstadt for breakfast. The multi-level store not only had the advantage of having a large buffet, but it also had a games department. So naturally, we followed up eggs, sausages, and rolls with Ravensburger, Queen, and Schmidt. None of the sale games grabbed any of us, though, but as we made our way to the convention hall, Hartmut spied a flea market in front of a cathedral that was just getting set up. There was one board game there, a 3M copy of Acquire in excellent condition, and Hartmut wasted no time in “acquiring” it for a mere 3 Euros!

We finally reached our destination, and as I began to see faces I had only known from internet postings, I began to feel a bit intimidated. But there were plenty of familiar faces, too, including fellow Berlin gamers/designers Andrea Meyer and Thorsten Gimmler. After registering, we went to pick our tables. Each author received one to set up any way he or she chose, and there were more than a hundred of them, with games of all types already covering half of them. Peer was already there, and we chose tables nearby. I unpacked by bags and set up two of my prototypes in mid-game situations. People were still trickling in, so I took a look around. It was fascinating to see all of the different game ideas people brought with them. In a country that publishes hundreds of designs each year, it is amazing to see that there are hundreds more (and many of them very good) that never make it onto a store shelf. As I said before, I had very modest expectations for my own designs.

A woman who set up on a table next to me had arguably the most beautiful display of the meeting. It included a children’s game with a large water-color painted board, and an accompanying children’s book, all written and illustrated by her. The main character of both the game and the book was The Little Dog King, based on her own pet, which she brought along to help sell the project. Dog King and I became instant friends, and he wandered over to my table often during the weekend, although he never stayed long enough to play one of my prototypes.

A pair of publisher representatives did, however, and I tried to hold back my excitement as I stuttered through the instructions in my second language. As we played the game, I silently hoped for a tense battle with a close ending. As the game ended and the final scores were tallied, I was pleased with the results: one of the reps won by one point, with the last place player only 4 points behind! They were impressed enough to ask for the prototype, and I agreed to give it to them on Sunday.

Meanwhile, other reps were constantly weaving through the tables, scanning the prototypes, and mixing with the better-known designers. Hartmut introduced me to a very friendly Günther Burkhardt, who was rendered speechless when I told him sheepishly that I was a fan.

In fact, everyone there was very friendly and helpful. The representatives were definitely looking for their next products and were not afraid to talk business, and there was obvious competition between the huge amounts of designs on display, but I felt a sense of community and cooperation during the weekend. Hartmut told me that it is largely due to the nature of game design: that although the author must make the decisions in where to take the design, he or she relies on the testing and constructive criticism of other designers, gamers, and publishers.

The day flew by, as I was in full extrovert mode, trying to take advantage of the opportunity to meet as many people as I could. I also got the chance to explain all of my games to a number of publishers, and received several requests for the prototypes to take back for their testers.

There were workshops as well, but I was much too busy chatting with the reps and designers. After playing one of my card games with a couple of different publishing reps, and winning one of the games, a rep joked, “You forgot one of the rules in showing your games—always let the rep win!” I replied that I had, unfortunately missed that workshop. He didn’t ask for the prototype, and I was left to wonder if he was only half joking.

I had the chance to catch up with Sebastien Pauchon, winner of the Göttingen Game Designer’s Scholarship from last year. My wife and I had bumped into him during our vacation to Switzerland last summer, and it was good to see him here. He was busy interviewing candidates for this year’s prize, but offered me some advice: “Don’t wait at your table for the reps to come to you—go out and invite them over.”

Thanks to Hartmut, however, I rarely needed to. He gladly sent reps over to my table and pointed out the different publishers who might be interested in what I brought with me.

When dinner time approached, the planned program was changed to allow for the large mass of designers and publishers to make their way to a Mexican restaurant to watch Germany advance in the World Cup. Afterwards, Peer and I played prototypes with fellow Berliner Günter Cornett. A mother with two young sons were there as well, invited by Günter after winning a scholarship for young game designers. He was helping the boys to develop a game they designed.

We returned, exhausted, to our tents, and a much quieter night of sleep.

The Sunday schedule only went from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m., and was open to the public, unlike the previous day, but very few outsiders came in to have a look. I played a prototype of Peer’s with one of the publishers, showed the game Bernd had sent with me, and tried to meet any reps that I had missed on Saturday. Still, the day was too short and I was not able to meet with everyone.

At the end of the weekend, I had received requests for 4 of my 5 prototypes, which went far beyond my expectations. Of course, that is only the first hurdle in getting a game published, but it is a hurdle I had never before crossed. More importantly, in an industry that really is a community, I finally had the opportunity to meet face-to-face with many of the people who are responsible for the hugely diverse German games market. It was great with the help of Peer and Hartmut to network with designers and reps. Even if none of our prototypes ever see the inside of a game store, it was incredibly fun trying them out in such a constructive atmosphere.

But who knows? Göttingen might have given one of us—or another lucky designer—a shortcut to a publishing contract…a Schleichweg, if you will.

Postlude: 2006's Göttingen proved to be a very successful year for our group of Berlin designers. Of the games we brought there, these were soon published: Peer's King of Siam, Bernd's Zack und Pack/Pack and Stack, and my Heartland/Eine Frage der Ähre (the game that caught the attention of several publishers right from the start). Günter also published the game Tokugawa by the two school aged brothers, Tizian Blumenthal and Victor Gilhaus. In addiiton, the game in which I made the mistake of winning when presenting to a publisher will soon be published by Cambridge Games Factory as Pala, and another game that Bernd and I have been developing together for years is finally scheduled for release in 2012.

Hello, Finland!

2011-09-21T07:26:00.000-07:00

One of the joys--or sorrows--of blogging is to check the "stats" page every once in awhile to see who is--or isn't--reading. Since I am an American living in Berlin and writing in English, it's obvious that most of the hits on my sight come from the U.S. and Germany. Sometimes, however, I will get a few hits that surprise me (Iran, for example), and this week I was amazed to see that there were more hits from the country of Finland than from any other nation!

For anyone following international gaming trends the past couple of years, it may come as no surprise that there is a thriving gaming--and game design culture--in Finland. There are game publishers bringing their releases to Essen, and Finnish game designers getting their work published in other countries, including Germany.

Several years ago, I had my first inkling of what was to come when Markku Jaatinen emailed to let me know he was going to be in Berlin on business, and asked if he could join my game designers' group for an evening. We had fun getting to know Markku and he told us about the Finnish Board Game Society over which he was presiding at that time.

Then, a year ago in Göttingen, I had the pleasure of having dinner with Touko Tahkokallio, a Finnish designer who is poised to take the German boardgame market by storm this Essen with Principato, Walnut Grove, and Eclipse, this last title being his grand take on the science fiction civilization building genre. I've seen and played some of his other designs, and they are as varied as the games produced by other highly-touted newcomers like Vlaada Chvátil and Antoine Bauza.

Since most of the hits on my sight were for the "designer diaries" of my groups' boardgames, I suspect that we'll see a flood of Finnish gamers at Essen, and that they are in the process of informing themselves of the new releases. If they are anything like the two men I've already met, then I hope to meet as many of them at the fair as possible!

And perhaps a few will swing by the Spielwiese in Berlin on Tuesday after the fair for my 5th Annual After-Essen Party. I think that it's about time this up-and-coming gaming nation was represented there.

The Universe is Expanding

2011-09-06T05:25:00.000-07:00

The Opinionated Gamers just posted a debate on the value or expansions for boardgame hobbyists. From the game designer’s perspective, this trend is also a mixed bag.

But first, we need to ask the question, “What started this expansion craze?” With Eurogames, it must have been Settlers of Catan. The reason for this is not only because Herr Teuber created a hit game, but because he invented a modular game system that can be varied in an infinite number of ways.

This is the “Holy Grail” of game design: not only to create a great game, but to introduce a new gaming system to the hobby. Gaming systems are easily varied and expanded upon, and this invites tinkering. Much like a player who enjoys exploring different strategies in a particular game, the game designer can delight in exploring the game system he or she has created. Not only that—it invites fans of the game to become game designers by creating their own variants and scenarios. Furthermore, published fan designs like Settlers Book give the players a sense of ownership over their favorite game.

From a financial perspective, of course, a game that can spurn an infinite number of expansions can yield a financial windfall for both designer and publisher. This can give the publisher of a hit game a steady income, which they can then invest in seeking new designs, and likewise, discover new designers. This does not always happen, however, as a publisher can be so consumed with supporting its best-selling products that new designs are often delayed or even cancelled.

And unlike Settlers of Catan, most new games are not new systems that can easily be expanded upon. Expansions to these games are not as much explorations than they are "published house rules," tweaks that might offer some novel new components and a small variance in game play.

Finally, a third type of origin for game expansions is the "director's cut." Just as film editors cut out much of what the director has filmed, game publishers often cut some features of a game submitted to them. If the film--or game--is a hit, it often gives its creator the opportunity to re-release it in a version closer to his or her original vision. For a game designer, this may take the form of one or more expansions.

When a designer has a hit game, it can be profitable and interesting to continue to revisit the design. I would assume, however, that most designers would rather spend their time developing new designs...

...or even better, new game systems.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN #51: The Waiting Game

2011-09-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

We spend much of our lives waiting...

...waiting in line or in traffic...

...waiting for a special date...

...or waiting for the next turn in a boardgame...

I wrote about my personal battle with impatience in my newest article of my Postcards From Berlin series on Opinionated Gamers.

No one hates waiting more than a game designer...

Country Music

2011-09-01T18:46:00.000-07:00

As someone who prefers variety to one particular style in just about everything, music has been no exception for most of my life. When someone would ask what I listen to, I'd usually reply, "Everything--but Country." I grew up listening to New Wave music from Britain and "hair metal" and rock 'n' roll from the U.S. College introduced me to progressive rock, grunge, and a late appreciation for classic rock. Later, I listened to rap and hip-hop as a basketball soundtrack, got aerobic workouts at techno trance clubs in Berlin (there was even a phase when I slept to drum 'n' bass CDs on repeat). Jazz has also always appealed to me, as I played sax for a dozen years. But even after some "Newgrass" music caught my liking, and I listened to some Johnny Cash after seeing the film, Walk the Line, I still avoided most country music (and my favorite Cash is still his cover of Nine Inch Nails haunting ballad, Hurt).

On my recent trip to the U.S., however, I found myself in the car with one of my sons, speeding around the twisting roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains with no CD's to choose from. I wanted to listen to some music, but I was at the mercy of FM Radio, and as I hit the "search" button repeatedly, every station turned up a country ditty, accompanied by the familiar twangy vocals and steel guitars. My 4-year -old German-born son asked, "Are they yodeling?"

Then it happened: a song came on that hooked me. Then another. And as I submersed myself in the words and let the music accompany the magnificent views of the surrounding countryside, I finally entered the final musical frontier...well, for me, at least. As soon as I was at a WiFi hot spot again, I even started to download some of the tunes I had heard.

What does this have to do with gaming and game design? Not that much, except that I found a connection with an article I wrote sometime ago on Opinionated Gamers entitled, Learning From Hollywood. In that article, I wrote about some things game designers can learn from filmmaking.

Country Music has a narrative quality about it that other popular music forms lack. Similar to film, that story draws us in, especially when we can relate to it and its characters. I used to think that the only ones who could relate to this type of music were rednecks, but I realize now that the genre is a bit broader than I first thought. It turns out, I had only been exposed to the pedestrian tunes in the past, and that I was missing the more thoughtful texts and better musicianship. How often, in gamer circles, we have lamented the fact that people never explore our wide universe of games because they were turned off by Monopoly or some awful "redneck game" (LCR, anyone?).

So, thanks to the Carolina mountain radio stations, I'm revisiting the concept of narrative in games. As the strategy game market becomes ever more competitive, and designers focus their energies on finding that one novel mechanic to make their games "different," it might be wiser to look for ways of designing stronger narratives in our games instead.

If good music--and even Country Music--transcends its math and mechanics to immerse the listener in its narrative, then perhaps good game design should do the same.

Prototype2Publisher: Pergamemnon

2011-08-26T05:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not someone who becomes enamored with one particular game--or even game system. By nature, I enjoy variety, and, if anything, I like to look at new game systems more for exploring the possibilities of expanding them or changing them. Likewise, although I like Dominion and admire the originality in the design, I was not drawn into the "deck-building" craze it inspired on both sides of the Atlantic.

My friend, Bernd Eisenstein, however, thought that the system might work with a conflict-oriented game he was working on, and soon it was the backbone of yet another game set in his favorite theme: antiquity. It also featured another of Bernd's favorite game elements: players starting from different positions with civilizations that have varying special powers (as in his first self-published title, Peloponnes).

As it developed, I began to call this game "Eurotrash," as it seemed to combine the victory-point scoring and elegant rules so typical in German-style games, with the direct "take that" conflict and battle mechanics of so-called "Ameritrash" games popular on the other side of the ocean. I'm not as big of a fan of the latter, but the game has grown on me over its playtesting period, especially as Bernd has improved the design. I am quite amazed at the way he can balance so many elements, especially when every player has a different starting position. And with the addition of all-out conflict and the mythical creatures, this little game should have a wide appeal. Following is Bernd's design notes for the game. - Jeff

In the beginning of 2009, I began to design a card game based on the browser game Grepolis. This game idea fascinated me for a long time. The mechanics were somewhat similar to the deck-building of Dominion, but without as much card shuffling and with more interaction due to direct conflict. Added to that were civilizations with different advantages and disadvantages to make the game more variable.

At the beginning, I drudged through the process for a long time with rules that were much too complicated concerning the counterstrikes and distance shots for each battle. In order to simplify the game, I removed the extra rules for the different weapons.

In addition, there were powerful mythical creatures who could take several hits, and each needed several cards to record each wound. The bookkeeping involved was also too fiddly and complicated. Once this was removed, it was necessary to refine the strengths of each creature without making them too overwhelmingly powerful. To balance them better, I made some have the special ability to escape a battle it was losing, and some had “secure” victory points.

Once the final mechanics were discovered, I entered the most difficult phase in the game’s development: playtesting the civilization against each other to make certain they were balanced. Each nation needed to have an equal chance at victory, although the strength of that nation was dependent each time on the particular strengths of the nations played by the opponents that game. After testing every combination many times, I believe I achieved enough of that balance.

I showed the prototype to Matthias Catrein (the illustrator for Peloponnes and Dominion) and he was immediately enthusiastic, and could not pass up on the opportunity to produce the fantastic illustrations for the cards.

Card Illustration by Matthias Catrein

Should the game find its target audience, there is nothing standing in the way of expansions, such as further civilizations and mythical creatures! - Bernd Eisenstein

Photos courtesy of Bernd Eisenstein and Irongames.

Prototype2Publisher: PAX

2011-08-23T13:50:00.000-07:00

I enjoy very much the opportunity to see and play the creative game ideas that our group of designers brings to the table each week. Some people I've met do not care too much for playing "unfinished" games that might have game-breaking flaws, but I like to see the potential in each idea, and I savor my role in providing feedback that will spur the designer on to realize that potential.

Even so, there are very few games that I get excited about after the first playing as much as this card game by my friend, Bernd Eisenstein. In fact, I eagerly looked forward to playing the game in each iteration, and was bitterly disappointed on those evenings when he did not even bring the prototype with him. When we did play it, we almost always played a second game back-to-back. It's that addictive.

Yes, there were some challenges at the beginning--especially making sure the different elements were balanced. Since the tension of determining a Roman or slave revolt victory was at the heart of the game, Bernd had to get this right for it to work, and it was never guaranteed that it could work with the other mechanics he had developed. But we can all thankful for Bernd's persistence, as this will undoubtably be one of my favorite strategic card games from now on, heavy enough for my Spielfreak friends, but with enough luck to keep it from becoming a brain-burner.

The game is scheduled to be released at Bernd's Irongames stand in Essen this year, and following are his design notes. - Jeff

During the time between the Essen gaming convention in October and the end of 2010, I had a relatively simple idea for a card game. The main concept was for a multi-player game about a two-sided conflict, with the winner of that conflict determining the winning conditions for the players. Because I am a fan of games about antiquity, I chose the theme of the Spartacus slave revolt against Rome.

I was inspired by Scripts & Scribes in designing my card-distribution mechanic: each turn, a player drew 3 cards, 1 at a time, and decided to add it to his hand, add it to the market, or slip it back under the deck. Then he could buy cards from the market, add cards from his hand to his display (for a price), and collect income.

I finished the first prototype in lightning speed, and the first playtests that I conducted by myself showed much promise. In fact, for a time, I focused almost exclusively on Partacus, which was my working title for the game back then.

After having high hopes to have the game ready for Essen 2011, however, further playtests with others showed weaknesses and the design did not progress to my fullest satisfaction. Instead, I focused more on my other card game, Pergamemnon, as the next Irongames release.

For a long time, the main problem was getting the card combinations right, and balancing their special powers. After reaching a break-through in this area, the next challenge was to achieve a balance in the conflict between Rome and the revolting slaves. I knew that Rome always needed to have the possibility of winning, so that the slaves could not count on their own victory. It also had to be possible to intentionally play for a Roman victory, and it also had to be possible for the other players to try to prevent this.

As this slowly came together through extensive playtesting and design tweaks, my hopes were restored for a 2011 release. Even so, I was still balancing the game up until shortly before the delivery of the illustrations by Klemens Franz (illustrator for Agricola, among many others) to the printer.

Card Illustration by Klemens Franz

And just before the game was sent out, during another playtest round at the Spielwiese gaming café in Berlin, a notable guest inspired another last-minute change. Mariano Iannelli of Italian publisher What’s Your Game? suggested the better title, PAX, and fortunately it was not yet too late to change it. - Bernd Eisenstein

Photos courtesy of Bernd Eisenstein and Irongames.

Prototype2Publisher: SINGAPORE

2011-08-20T08:16:00.000-07:00

I met Peer Sylvester in 2005 and travelled to my first Game Designer's Convention in Göttingen with him that year. Since then, we've both had our games published, and I've had the pleasure to playtest many of his ideas. One of them, Singapore, is scheduled for release in Essen this October. Although he brought the prototype once to the Spielwiese cafe when I was there, that night we happened to be playing on separate tables and I did not have the opportunity to play it. Pity! The prototype looked interesting, however, and the rules sound even more intriguing. I'm looking forward to playing it soon.

In the meantime, Peer has posted a Designer Diary about the making of the game on Boardgame Geek News, and editor W. Eric Martin has even added a summary of the gameplay.

Photo of the box cover courtesy White Goblin Games.

Rediscovering My First-Ever Game Design

2011-08-13T20:34:00.000-07:00

I was back home in Iowa for a recent visit, and while cleaning out the closet in my old room that still contains a few things of mine—namely, boardgames—I stumbled upon a game design artifact from my childhood.

I opened the small plastic bag and dumped out the pile of hand-drawn cardboard counters, a section of a game board, a “hit” table, several dice, and a rules booklet. It was the first game I had ever designed.

As Risk was one of the first strategic boardgames with which I was ever infatuated, it came as no surprise that my first original game design was also a war game. Other influences were the primitive land and sea battle games that I played on my friends' Atari 2600 and Intellivision consoles back then. And I remembered that all of the counters depicting military units for land, sea and air, had been inspired by the discovery of my uncle’s Avalon Hill Midway war game (released in 1964), although I had never actually learned how to play it.

At the time, I was still in elementary school, and the Cold War had shown no signs of coming to an end. In this context, it was also not surprising that two of the four nations in the game were the U.S.A. and U.S.S.R. A more telling—and frightening—sign of the times was the large “Atomic Bomb” counters which included my own colored marker illustrations of mushroom clouds.

To my recollection, I never played the game with anyone else, nor showed it to anyone, either—even my parents. I do remember playing it a few times alone, however, as I play-acted both sides of the conflict, turning the Cold War to “hot” in my imagination. Thankfully, history provided a much better resolution, and I am now living in a city that represents the reunification of east and west—just as Berlin once represented the division of Europe between the Superpowers.

And I’m also happy to have moved on from war game designs since that time.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN #50: License to Sell

2011-08-09T07:51:00.000-07:00

In my latest article in the series on the Opinionated Gamers website, I write about the increasing popularity of marketing tie-ins between blockbuster films and toys and games. Now, it seems to have come full circle, as toys and games are becoming the stars in their own motion pictures.

Generating BUZZ

2011-08-08T07:12:00.001-07:00

This October will be the first time I’ll finally be able to attend the SPIEL gaming convention in Essen. Although I have yet to experience it first-hand, I’ve followed the event religiously for years, including the hype leading up to the new releases and the reports made during and after the fair by various gamers and gaming journalists.

As I last wrote, it takes some marketing savvy—especially for small publishers—to attract attention to their new games, as there are at least 600 debuted in Essen each year. In my last blog entry, I covered some methods publishers use to create hype before the convention. Now, I’ll list a few ways they create “buzz” at the convention, attracting the attention of the tens of thousands of hobbyists looking to fill their backpacks with new games before heading home.

When it comes to any kind of open market, whether it be a flea market, farmer’s market, or game convention, there is one universal truth: people attract more people. The more people there are huddled around a market stall, the more passersby will line up behind them to see what all of the hubbub is about. Once, at a flea market stand my youth group was using to raise money for a project, we routinely had some of our other teens crowd the tables, pretending to pick over the various second-hand items for sale, The plan worked beautifully, as we soon had quite a few others squeezing through the crowd—and actually buying some of the stuff before anyone else could snatch it up!

I doubt that there is a need for this tactic in the crowded halls of SPIEL, but there certainly is something to be said for attracting a “critical mass” of visitors to a publisher’s booth, especially if it is a new publisher with no previous track record or reputation. If the games are well-hyped before Essen, further tactics may not be as necessary, but there are plenty of publishers who still employ these well-publicized attempts at creating “booth buzz”:

Promotional Giveaways

Especially when there is a limited supply of them, giveaways are usually quite effective in bringing a good crowd to the booth early on in the convention, when critical mass is most important. Many gamers who cannot attend Essen may complain about he limited access to these extra goodies, but that really is the point.

Usually the promotions are extra things for existing games such as special components (“real metal coins!”) or special expansions. Since they are usually advertised “while supplies last”, visitors are encouraged to come early if they want the extra stuff.

Gaming Tables

The larger publishers always have them, and I’ve heard those are hard to get, as there are tens of thousands of other visitors scrambling for them each day. Small publishers do not usually have as much space to work with, however, but having a couple of tables is a real advantage, even if only to do demonstrations and play a couple of practice rounds of the game.

Demonstrations

Having people who know the game, love playing the game, and are skilled at explaining the game (preferably, fluently in several different languages) is a must!

Unusual Booth

An unusual design for a publisher’s booth may also be enough to attract attention at the fair. This may include:

Costumes

I’ve seen photographs of all sorts of costumes at publishers’ booths, ranging from silly sombrero and traditional kilts to fantasy dress, the latter usually worn by attractive women. My favorite from a few years ago was a pair in traditional operatic dress singing to promote a game about the Opera.

Food & Drink

It’s no secret that free food and drink—especially if it’s a specialty from the publihser’s home country—is a great crowd-pleaser and buzz-enhancer for any game that might be showing there.

Game Gimmicks

The games themselves can attract special attention if they have some kind of gimmick that is unusual or creative. Although a “gimmick game” is usually a bad thing, there are many that are simply creative uses for unusual game components, and sometimes they work quite well. Game gimmicks can rang from Wallenstein’s cube tower to Space Dealer’s multiple sand timers to Space Alert’s soundtrack CD to Cop & Killer’s dart guns.

Polls

Several polls have emerged in recent years that keep track of the most popular games during the fair. Fairplay magazine—and now Geekbuzz from Boardgamegeek.com—are the most well-known, and both fairgoers and fair-watchers take notice. Because of this, it seems that they have also become the target of buzz-manufacturers, as publishers try to get their games listed in the various “top 10’s.” I’ve heard stories of people working for publishers—obvious because of their T-shirts—spiking the votes in favor of their own games, and ever since I’ve been a bit weary of the results. Apparently, though, Fairplay now limits who can vote in their annual poll.

Autograph Signings

Finally—and most importantly from my perspective, is the presence of the game designer—or illustrator—at the booth. Scheduled autograph sessions can attract interest, and they are a great way for inventors to have direct contact with the gamers who enjoy their creations.

These are my observations as an avid “Essen-watcher” for many years. It will be interesting to see how this may change after finally experiencing the event first-hand this October. I hope to see you there!

If You HYPE it, They Will Come

2011-08-04T09:25:00.000-07:00

I've been vacationing with my family in my hometown in Iowa, and recently enjoyed one of the new attractions there: a water park on the edge of town, surrounded on three sides by corn fields. My wife compared it to the Kevin Costner film, Field of Dreams, in which his character hears voices that compel him to build a baseball diamond in the middle of the Iowa corn fields. The voices whisper, "If you build it, they will come."

The "Pool of Dreams" carved out of the Iowa corn fields.

The end of summer is already approaching, and that means the time for outdoor swimming and beach vacations is coming to an end--and prime time for boardgames is, again, on the horizon. I'm sure it's intentional that the largest boardgame convention in the world, the SPIEL in Essen, is scheduled for Autumn each year, directly before the cold and dark winter months, and right before the Christmas shopping season. And for the Spielfrieks who attend--or watch the Essen reports for their Christmas orders--this time of year also signals the beginning of the "hype season."

As the number of small publishers and new game releases at the convention has grown to ridiculous proportions, publishers have sought out new ways to make their games stand out from the ever-expanding crowd. You can't blame them, of course, as it is a competitive market, and it shows no signs of shrinking any time soon. From my observations, there seem to be two phases to this process: creating hype before the convention, and creating buzz during it.

First, the art of the hype, which several publishers have mastered over the past couple of years, with many others now following suite:

The Pre-Order
One method that is now the most common practice is the pre-order system, which puts pressure on consumers to pick up the games before they have an opportunity to try them out. This pressure increases indirectly proportional to the limited number of copies available at the convention. The fewer the number of games, the more difficult it will be to snag the game before it is sold out.

Despite the disadvantages, the desire for gamers to find the "hidden gem"--and their fear of missing out on the hit of the convention--often moves them to reserve their copy in advance of the event. This works so effectively that many games from smaller publishers are now sold out before the convention even begins.

To their credit, many of these publishers now post the rules of their games online in advance, but I've also noticed that many of these games disappear from online forums within a year of their releases, quickly fading into obscurity. The ones that aren't forgotten are either reprinted or picked up by larger publishers, so there really isn't much risk in passing on a pre-order--unless, of course, a gamer has to have the game immediately (as if he or she doesn't have anything else to play, in the meantime).

Game Announcements and Diaries
Press releases with well-written game descriptions and professional color photographs of the components and illustrations can go a long way to hyping a game before the con, especially when they are posted or linked to high-traffic gaming websites, such as BoardgameGeek. A more recent trend is to post a "Designer Diary" on these websites or on a personal blog, detailing the process that went into making the game. Many gamers aspire to one day design their own games, and writing about the process for a published game serves both as an inspiration to these would-be designers, as well as good advertising for the game being published.

Advanced Review Copies
Getting advanced copies of the game into the hands of a few well-known reviewers can be one of the most valuable ways of creating hype before the convention. For example, when Bernd Eisenstein decided to start his own publishing company to release Peloponnes, I encouraged him to send an advanced copy of the game to reviewer Larry Levy and his DC Gamers group, as I thought the game would appeal to them. They loved the game, and Larry posted a glowing review shortly before the convention, which helped to bring plenty of attention to the game, especially from the English-speaking visitors.

Of course, providing advance copies to reviewers can backfire if the game fails to impress. It's a risk that is well worth the effort, however, if the designer and publisher believe in their game. Just as it is important for a designer to find a publisher who is a good "fit" for his or her game, it is also imperative to find a reviewer who would probably like that type of game. For example: Larry prefers more complex games, and I'd never send him something dominated by the "blind-bidding" mechanism!

One must also be choosy, when deciding which reviewers to contact. These days, just about every gamer has their own blog or website and will gladly write an online review in exchange for a free copy of the game. As there are very few professional journalists in the hobby, it is not always easy to distinguish between them all, but it is necessary, otherwise a small print run will quickly be exhausted.

Playtest Groups
Sending the game to gaming groups other than the one in which the designer is a part of can also be valuable in creating buzz. In fact, many gaming groups have their own websites where they log the games they play and write reviews. In addition, members of the group will often chime in on internet forums about the game, as soon as it is announced. This is "grass roots" publicity at it's best.

Furthermore, including external gaming groups in the playtesting process of the prototype early on is not only beneficial in collecting valuable feedback for tweaking the design, it also gives that gaming group a feeling of ownership, as they had a part in the design (and if possible, thanking them in the credits is a great way to encourage this). The members who took part in the process will be even more willing to recommend the game to their friends both local and on the web.

Posting Rules Online
This is probably the most "honest" way of generating hype for those who have not yet had the opportunity to play the game. A game really is the rules, after all, and posting the rules online gives everyone equal access to the heart of the game. This is usually the final step for a discerning shopper, as reading the rules is not nearly as fun as reading a review or press release. Thankfully, many companies who do pre-orders now post their rules online as well, and this can be valuable information to consumers who do not want to miss out on a limited print run--but still want to avoid a game that will disappoint them.

Next up: I will write about generating "buzz" during the convention.

Beginning in the Middle

2011-07-27T23:07:00.000-07:00

Good stories rarely begin at the beginning. Though biographies ("He was born in 1837...") and histories ("In the beginning, God created...") may be exceptions, the most engaging narratives draw us into the middle of the action after many events have already come to pass. It's no wonder that George Lucas began his now-famous space opera with Episode IV, and even that first film opened in the middle of a dramatic starship battle.

Game designers often forget this lesson from the storytellers of other disciplines. In an age when the board game market is saturated with "engine building" mechanisms, many suffer from designers who wish to start their game play from the very beginning. While I can see the appeal of building something out of nothing during the course of the game, the result is often a very long, tedious prelude that drains the game of excitement long before things start getting interesting.

However, when a game allows the players to begin with something, it places them in the middle of the story. This can be achieved by something as simple as setting up starting positions at the beginning of a game like The Settlers of Catan. Or it can be as complex as the variable player powers of the different civilizations in games like Cosmic Encounter or Peloponnes. Each of these examples fast-forwards the game's story so that the players can get to the more exciting part of the game in a timely fashion.

I recently learned this lesson when working on my own engine-building game, which is scheduled to be released soon. There are lots of options for building up different areas--both on the board and in a player's own "tableau"--and I initially had the players begin with nothing. After all, that gives players the most control over their destiny, I assumed. After repeated playtests, however, I realized that the first few steps of the game were similar enough for each player--and they were largely unexciting--that I could bypass this "prelude" and immerse them in the middle of the story at the very beginning. All it took was an array of starting resources (and there are many in this game). It sounds simple, but it made a huge impact on the game.

Some designers may be worried that, by jumping ahead in their game, they may have more difficulty maintaining a good story arc so that the tension has room to steadily build to its dramatic climax at game end. It's true, after all, that if you start out at a snail's pace, it's easier to increase the tempo from there. But I found that it is much more exciting to have that tension there from the beginning. That's what makes a good story in other mediums, and it can only improve the story the players are creating within the framework of a board game design.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN #49: Memorabilia

2011-07-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

In my newest Postcard From Berlin on the Opinionated Gamers website, I reflect on the things that connect us to our memories, including the board games we play.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN: Saying Goodbye

2011-07-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

It is a stark contrast between the European metropolis and the Midwestern small town; between the urban life I now live and the rural roots I left behind, buried deep in the black Iowa soil. But I found myself returning home, flying alone, my seat locked in an upright position as I gazed out onto the perfectly square fields below, a view that could easily have been a game board.

I was on my way to the town where my father had grown up, a small town that once seemed so perfect it was proof that Andy Griffith’s Mayberry was not so mythic after all. Keystone sprang up along the railroad in the late 1800s, before the invention of the automobile. Like most small towns in the U.S., it thrived well into the second half of the 20th century, before the decline of the family farm and before the arrival of the interstate bypasses, strip malls and suburban shopping centers that effectively destroyed Main Streets across the country.

But the Keystone of my childhood still bustled with activity, even as the dwindling population aged and the need for farm subsidies increased. My family would go back often, and my sister and I spent a week of every summer vacation there. Each time our car rumbled across the railroad tracks at the entrance to town, our hearts would beat faster. Our necks would strain to look at the giant grain elevator, the tallest building in town, then at the wide Main Street, the bank and library, and the general store, Allers & Sons, where Grandpa and Grandma worked. A few blocks later, we would pull into the driveway of a tiny ranch-style house, and a gray-haired woman would be waiting and smiling.

It was obvious why my cousin called her “the laughing Grandma.” Her joy was palpable and she would giggle at any attempt at humor, which was always a boost for one’s self esteem.

I’ve discovered since then that spoiling the grandkids is common practice the world over, and my Grandma was no exception. In addition to taking my sister and me to the park on demand and feeding us chocolate donuts for breakfast, she gave us the freedom to explore, and the town was a perfect place to exercise prepubescent stabs at independence. Keystone wasn’t big enough to get lost in. I could stand in the middle of town and see the farm fields on all sides, giving me the feeling that I was on an island, as waves of corn tassels blew in the breeze all around.

I spent many mornings exploring the “island,” ducking into the grocery store afterwards to help Grandpa stamp prices on cans and boxes, or to sit on the floor and read all of the comic books. Grandma was at the cash register, and I was allowed to pick out one of the little toys or games they had for sale. And if I didn’t find a game there, we would dig through the attic to rediscover the games of my father’s childhood.

Grandma was always willing to play anything I found, whether The Game of Life, Rack-O or one of the many spin-offs of the 50s and 60s television game shows that were so popular in their time. While I also dug out classic toys like my father’s Tinker Toys and an older type of plastic building block similar to Lego, the games were the most memorable because we played them together.

My grandmother enjoyed playing games – not so much for the competition but for the time spent with friends. In Keystone, the only gaming groups to speak of were senior citizen card clubs and Bingo at the care center. In fact, after my grandparents sold the store and entered retirement, Grandma volunteered at the care center across the street, often helping with Bingo night.

When Grandpa passed away suddenly ten years ago, though, things were never the same. She still laughed, but I could sense the loneliness underneath. She dealt with her loss by keeping busy with a variety of volunteer work at the care center, in her church and in the community. She even learned how to use a computer and email, and we corresponded regularly.

A little more than a year ago, we learned that she had liver cancer. It was not crushing news for her, as she told me that she felt she had lived a full life and was ready for the next one. It didn’t slow her down one bit, either, and she continued her busy schedule. In fact, she showed no symptoms of the aggressive disease and would often shrug off concerned friends and family members by telling them that she was cured. When her health finally did start to decline about a month ago and jaundice set in, she joked with everyone that she had been visiting a tanning bed.

I knew, however, that the end was coming, and I wanted to see her one more time. I needed to say goodbye.

And so I drove into town once more, over the smoothed blacktop that used to cross the railroad tracks, down a quiet main street and past the deserted grocery store, around the corner to the little ranch-style house, where the laughing Grandma was waiting.

We did laugh as we celebrated all the fond memories we had together. We played games, including one of her old favorites, Rummikub. And she was even courageous enough to learn a new game on our last evening together. In her first and only game of Ticket to Ride, she pulled off a surprise victory that sent the whole family into uproarious applause as she sat quietly with a smile on her face, blushing slightly.

She often told me how I used to sit on her front step during the summers, sighing “I never want to leave here.” I now had to say goodbye to Keystone, though, and I had to say goodbye to Grandma, too.

She told me she was hoping to make it to her birthday. She died peacefully at eight o’clock in the morning last Thursday at the care center, surrounded by many of the people she herself had served up until a few weeks ago. Eight hours earlier, she had turned 87.

Happy birthday, Grandma. And goodbye.

Editor's note: this is an edited version of an article that originally ran on the now-defunct Boardgamenews.com.

Tobacco Promotion + Peace Activisms = Board Game Culture?

2011-07-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

There are many theories as to how Germany's board game market became so much more dynamic than in any other country. Certainly, the Spiel des Jahres, the German Game of the Year award, plays a major role in keeping good designs in the eyes of the mass market here, as well as pushing publishers to seek out original and engaging designs. But there may be other factors I was previously unaware of, according to Titus Chalk's recent article, "Serious Fun", in the online German Times.

In the article, Klaus Teuber, creator of board game catalyst The Settlers of Catan, points to the tobacco company Krone, which began some of the first gaming clubs in Germany: “The idea was to offer something else you could do with your free time," says Teuber, and Chalk adds, "Presumably while you puffed a packet of the brand’s finest tobacco products."

In addition, I discovered that the German Board Game Championships were also initiated by Krone, and they even partnered with Schmidt Spiele and ASS to co-produce their own board games (thanks to Guido from Tric Trac for the link). It seems odd to credit modern board games to a cigarette company's PR campaign, but we can at least be thankful that they were not satisfied with simply advertising Poker games or clubs that stuck to Germany's own national card game, Skat. In fact, it would be interesting to find out more about how the decision was made to focus their advertising on board games instead.

But that isn't the only influence mentioned in the article. Carcassonne creator Klaus-Jürgen Wrede describes how West Germany's activist culture may have opened the door to board game sessions as a pastime in between heated political discussion (or perhaps during anti-Cold War sit-ins).

“Phenomena like the German peace movement in the 1970s and 1980s also had an important influence,” he claims in the article. “People met up, ate together, talked, discussed and also played a lot,” he said. One can clearly see how, at the very least, the peace movement influenced the low-conflict "German style" of board game, with its emphasis on building.

Although the relationship between tobacco and board games has since disappeared, especially now that smoking is outlawed in public buildings, Germans still take their political demonstrations seriously. In fact, I seem to run into at least one demo each week in Berlin.

I suppose that if I really want to increase participation in my local gaming groups, I need to start introducing games to these people while they are parading through the government quarter. Perhaps, in between protesting the things they are against, they'll discover board games they can support.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN: Refusing to Grow Up

2011-07-11T10:21:00.000-07:00

When most people hear about my enjoyment of a hobby they think is best reserved for young children, they often shake their heads with a smile and call me a “child at heart.”

I’m sure the same thing happens regularly for Tim Walsh, but the 20-year veteran of the toy and game industry doesn’t shy away from that label. Born on Christmas Day, 1964 – the ultimate toy-giving holiday – he has proudly worn the badge “kid at heart” well into adulthood.

I met Tim a few years ago when he visited our youth ministry in Berlin as part of a small church group. Tall and athletic with an endearing smile, he wasn’t afraid to jump right in and participate with the German teens in the various activities. He even borrowed some shorts and shoes to practice with my basketball team.

Then he saw my game collection, and we learned that we had something else in common. I discovered that Tim had been a successful game designer, self-publisher, and developer over the course of his career, in addition to writing and speaking about the game and toy industry.

During my travels, I was finally able to visit his family in Sarasota, Florida, and like children at summer camp, we stayed up much too late talking about games. It was also fascinating to hear his story and experiences in the many different roles he’s played.

Self-Publisher
The “game designer within” was first awakened in college at Colgate University in 1984. At that time, Tim said, traditional board games were reportedly losing popularity to computer games and would soon be obsolete. Then Trivial Pursuit sold 20 million copies, proving the “experts” wrong. Two of the creators of the game were Colgate graduates, and Tim and his college buddies dreamed of following in their footsteps. “The phenomenal success of their game – and their reported lives as golf course owners in Canada – got us thinking, ‘Hey maybe we should invent a game,’” Tim laughed.

Good game ideas eluded them during college, but the dream resurfaced a few years after graduation when another game, Pictionary, stormed the market. Seeing that the resurgence of board games wasn’t a one-hit fluke, the college friends, now scattered around the country, decided to give game design a more earnest try, Tim said.

The inspiration for their game, TriBond, came from partner Ed Muccini, who “worked in a pet store part-time and listened to a radio station every day that played three songs and asked the listeners to guess what they had in common,” according to Tim. But Ed saw a broader game and expanded the idea to finding the common ground between all sorts of things.

“It was a twist on trivia, but it was still trivia.” Tim explained. There was an element missing from the game, and they discovered it while driving a rental car in Sarasota. “Someone asked how long it would take us to drive to the Florida Keys, and the light bulb went off,” Tim said. “‘Hey, what else has keys besides Florida?’ I asked. That became our first riddle clue: Florida, a locksmith, a piano.”

The deductive aspect of the riddle questions allowed players to “figure out an answer” rather than rely solely on memory, Tim said. “That was the moment when the game really became something fun.”

Of course, TriBond was still just an unpublished prototype, and Tim was pursuing other career paths at the time as well, one of which was baseball. “I guess ‘playing for a living’ was always a big pull for me,” he smiled. Growing up with five brothers and sisters who were all athletes, Tim played football for Colgate and pitched for the baseball team. After graduation, he decided to give professional sports a try.

“I didn’t want to be stuck in another job wondering ‘what if?’” he said. After a season pitching for a team in Mexico and a summer with “the last barnstorming baseball team in America,” he had unsuccessful try-outs with several Major League Baseball teams in their western Florida training camps. “I didn’t make the teams, but I fell in love with the area, so I stayed,” he said.

After settling in, Tim pursued a career in sports medicine as a physical therapist and took a job at a local clinic. The job turned out to be the perfect testing grounds for the new game idea that Tim and his friends were now developing. “I would try the clues out on patients who were very much a captive audience,” Tim joked. “You've got 15 minutes in the whirlpool? I’ll quiz you with these three-clue riddles. Have to ride a stationery bike for 20 minutes? I’ll quiz you with these three-clue riddles.”

The encouragement of patients and other friends motivated the partners to enlist investors, and they hired Patch Products to produce 2,500 copies. When that sold out, they ran a second printing of 5,000 copies, then 10,000 more were self-published. “Of course, we were selling them from the trunks of our cars that whole time, too.” Tim explained. “That took two-and-a-half years of really hard work and struggle.”

Marketer
Even though TriBond was into its third print run, the partners were running out of money after paying the investors, who had contributed $80,000 to launch the game. Having given up his job at the clinic, Tim was desperate for work and begged Patch Products for a job. “You know how to make it and I know how to market it,” he told them. “License TriBond, give me a job and you won’t regret it.”

For nine years, Tim held the dual titles of Corporate VP of Product Development and Marketing. During his time there, he increased sales from aproximately $3 million to over $25 million. “We sold a lot of TriBond games,” he said. Still, there was a lot of pressure because his job was mostly dependent on the success of that one game. Instead of focusing on factors outside of his control, however, he learned to simply focus on giving his best effort. He was encouraged by a Bible passage that said, “Let not your hands be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well.” Tim’s translation: “It’s all good, just work hard. So I did and God blessed it.”

Designer and Developer
In addition to the TriBond success, Tim also co-developed Mad Gab, now owned by toy giant Mattel, and designed the party game Blurt!, both originally published by Patch Products.

The inspiration for Blurt! also came before he took the job at Patch Products. Tim was dating a teacher and volunteered to help out with her second grade class, entertaining some of the students while she helped others with year-end projects. As he was paging through a children’s dictionary, he read aloud one of the definitions, “the nut of an oak tree.” A nearby 7-year-old mumbled “oaknut,” although Tim wasn’t expecting a response. “No it’s an acorn,” he said, smiling, “but that’s funny!”

Soon, Tim was reading other definitions aloud, and kids started to gather around, trying to be the first to blurt out the correct answer. “They were laughing and learning, and I asked my girlfriend if I could borrow the children’s dictionary,” Tim said. Soon he had a prototype for a new party game, and after being rejected for licensing consideration by Tyco, Mattel, Parker Brothers and Milton Bradley, he finally licensed the game to Patch Products – but that’s not the real success story. “The best part,” says Tim, “is that the teacher is now my wife of 16 years.”

Author

Eventually, Tim decided to leave Patch Products, based in Wisconsin, to return to Florida and fulfill another dream: to become a book author. During the time Tim had spent promoting his games, he was often asked to speak about the history of the pastime, which led him to research it further. The stories of the various inventors of America’s most beloved toys and games intrigued Tim. “I found that virtually every hit toy or game was designed by people tinkering in their basements or garages,” he said. Tim thought that their stories deserved more attention. “The inventors are so unappreciated. These people have touched countless lives through their creations, yet very few others know who they are. I thought the book could help change that.”

Along with expanding his research for the project, Tim became a collector, scouring E-Bay for the antique originals of such classic toys and games as Lincoln Logs and Scrabble. Although he had to re-sell many of these after having them photographed for his book, some of the artifacts continue to be displayed in his guest room, making it into a delightful museum for the “kid at heart.” During our overnight visit, my wife and I slept under shelves filled with vintage Monopoly sets, plastic Silly Putty eggs, and cardboard Tinker Toy tubes. There was even a perfume bottle on the dresser, filled with the carefully-guarded secret-formula scent of Play-doh.

After being turned down by outside publishers, Tim self-published The Playmakers, a beautiful, full-color coffee-table book filled with the success stories of those everyday inventors. In fact, it’s the toy industry “underdogs” that make the book so fascinating. “It’s the quintessential dream of so many – to make a living on something you created,” Tim said. “They have so much invested emotionally in their ‘baby’ that it makes for very compelling story-telling.” The book has since been licensed to publishing giant Andrews McMeel-Universal, which released it as Timeless Toys, and a documentary film on toy inventors, called Toyland, for which Tim was a creative consultant and even makes an appearance, was released in 2010.

The research into the Wham-O company for the sections on the Super-Ball and Frisbee toys opened up a door for another book. “I knew that their sixtieth anniversary was approaching, so I sought them out and they agreed to open up their archives to me,” Tim said. After getting one of the company’s founders, Rich Knerr, on board, he successfully pitched the project to Chronicle Books in San Francisco, and although Knerr died before the completion of the book, Tim said that the two of them had fun reliving the early years of Wham-O together. “They were just fearless and fun in their approach to toy making.” Tim said. The book was released in 2008.

Although he’s now had success as an author, Tim hasn’t left game design behind. Both Blurt! and TriBond are planned for re-release with some updates to the rules and cards. There are new game ideas to be explored as well, and Tim’s books and personal experience testify that there is always room for another board game hit to stun the “experts.”

That said, the current climate of the industry in America is certainly more difficult for designers. “It’s tough, especially with the consolidation of the industry and the proliferation of media outlets,” he sighed. “Having said that, there still seems to be a breakout toy or game every few years like Apples to Apples that fuels the creativity of the next wave of inventors.”

And although self-publishing helped establish him early in the industry, Tim is cautious about encouraging others to follow that same path. “It’s a fun industry and alluring in that regard, but it’s also a $22 billion industry and the professionals in it take their fun very seriously,” he warned. “People go bankrupt for real, and they don’t lose Monopoly money.”

Still, Tim’s “toy story” is as compelling as any of the underdogs he’s written about, and it’s not surprising he could relate to many of them, having received his share of rejection letters. “I think the energy and struggle of creating is much more interesting and rewarding then the selling,” he reflected. “Sooner or later, though, you have to sell your idea to someone who’s willing to pay you.” And although the destination may not be as exhilarating as the journey, it’s comforting to know that another individual has succeeded in the corporate toy industry with hard work and perseverance…
…and by simply refusing to grow up.

Editor's note: this is an updated version of an article that originally ran on the now-defunct Boardgamenews.com.

Photos of game box covers and book covers courtesy Tim Walsh.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN: The Gaming Cafe

2011-07-08T18:19:00.000-07:00

As with my favorite German board games, I always have much more that I would like to do in Berlin than is possible with my allotted actions and resources. Because of the capitol’s divided history, there were duplicates of everything in the east and west, and even now the city has scores of museums, no fewer than three opera houses, numerous concert halls, and plenty of alternative venues showing the cabarets and political satires for which it is famous. And though it’s changing, Berlin is still probably the most inexpensive capitol in the western world to experience all of these cultural events. If only I could find the time. I finally stopped buying Tip, one of the city’s best biweekly cultural magazines, which listed absolutely everything that was going on in Berlin each day, because it was simply too depressing to constantly read about all the things I was missing.

Tip has since tried to narrow the choices for its increasingly busy readership, however, by running a series called “The 14 best things to do in the next two weeks.” One of its recommendations was an unassuming board gaming café in the heart of East Berlin’s new alternative scene.

On sunny days, customers can take the games outside.

The Ludothek Spielwiese is the brainchild of Michael Schmitt, who, together with his wife, Inike, came up with the idea four years ago after their first daughter was born and their regular gaming group disbanded. “We didn’t really know what we were going to do with all the games we had collected,” he joked.

Michael was raised in a small town near Heidelberg, and, like many Germans, grew up playing board games often with his family. He explained that each Christmas his parents would buy a new game to play during the holidays, and that even “sometimes three or four generations sat around the table and played games together.”

His enjoyment of games continued into college in Passau, where he studied Cultural Science, Business and Political Science. He also met his wife there, and after finishing their studies, they moved to Berlin where they’ve lived for the past ten years.

Our paths crossed in 2006 when I was looking for a new location for our weekly gaming group. Our old café had closed its doors, and we were meeting in a church café for which I had the responsibility of opening and closing—something which became more difficult to do consistently after my twin sons were born. Günter Cornett had just heard of a gaming café opening down the street, and I visited it as soon as I could. It wasn’t long after I met Michael that I knew the Spielwiese would be the perfect place for our group to meet.

Designer Bernd Eisenstein tests a prototype with Spielwiese owner Michael Schmitt and a youth named Paul.

The bright, remodeled shop with its retro design fits in well with the surrounding neighborhood, one of the most popular alternative café districts in Berlin. A half-dozen square tables cover the hard-wood floors, approximately 1,200 games fill the shelves from floor to ceiling on several walls, and a coffee bar offers light food and drink at the other end of the room. One can buy new releases here, but the real draw is being able to play any number of games in the café for as long as you want for one Euro per person, or to rent a game for 3 Euros per day (with children’s games costing only 1 Euro per day). It’s the renting or loaning out of the games that makes the Spielwiese a “Ludothek.”

The word Ludothek comes from the Latin word for “playing” and has a similar function as a public library, which, in German, is called a Bibliothek. Michael explained that there are many Ludotheks in Germany although the greatest number are located in Switzerland, where Ludothek workers are actually recognized with a title similar to that of a librarian. In Germany, however, Ludotheks are usually part-time or non-profit endeavors, sometimes as part of a local library, he said. Most belong to a national organization, of which the Spielwiese is now the only commercial member. “They changed their membership requirements for me because they liked my concept so much,” he said.

Michael’s concept, combining a Ludothek with a game store and café, has become a hit with casual and serious gamers alike. Locals make up the largest portion of his clientele, but other customers come from all over Berlin and even the surrounding towns to play, rent or buy games. In seven months of business, his databank lists over 600 customers who regularly buy or rent games from him. “Lots of tourists also buy games from me,” Michael said. A group of Danish gamers visited the Spielwiese a few weeks ago as part of a yearly pilgrimage. “They found me on the Internet and gave me a list of about 30 new releases they wanted to buy,” he said.

Of course, the number of customers on any given day can vary tremendously. “Every day and every week is different,” he admitted. “I haven’t found any pattern yet.” Sometimes, weather can be a factor, but and business can let up during the warmer summer months, when Germans leave town for vacation--or are glued to televised World Cup soccer games. But the hip location helps draw people in during even the slowest seasons. “Many people even meet here to play games before they disappear to the clubs at midnight to dance,” he said. The Spielwiese's 32 seats inside and outside are full enough during the week that Michael is already thinking about expanding.

Thus far, he’s been able to succeed with a minimal advertising budget. His unique business plan has garnered media attention from major Berlin newspapers, magazines, and radio and television programs. More importantly, though, word of mouth has provided the biggest results. “My customers do the advertising. I get many, many new customers through recommendations from my regular customers.”

Michael’s real advertising begins when a potential customer, often a curious passer-by, enters the store. His attention to their needs, respect for their wishes, and advice are what keep them coming back—and when they do, they bring their friends. “Many of my customers have told me that it’s easier to talk with me because I take their needs seriously,” he said. “In other stores, the employees either have no idea what they are selling—such as in department stores or large chain—or they talk about the games in a way that the casual gamer can’t understand” such as in some of the other hobby stores, he said.

Jürgen Kerber reads directions with designer Hartmut Kommerell, who brought his children.

Though online game sellers pose real problems to many “brick and mortar” game stores, Michael says it doesn’t really compete with the services he provides. “The ‘game geeks’ buy from their favorite online shop anyway, while the people who need advice or want to try the game out first before they buy come to me.” He said that those who come in for advice or to try out the games in the café usually support his store by purchasing the games from him.

Michael usually buys his games through the main German distributor, Heidelberger, but he has also tried to network with publishers at the Essen and Nuremberg game conventions and has received some free games directly from them. Once a year, the German Ludothek organization provides him with some games as well.

In a country that is slowly learning how to encourage entrepreneurship, it is exciting to see Michael taking big risks to follow his dream of making a career out of his hobby. His decision to work in a completely different field than what he studied at the university, with no previous experience in running a small business or a café, is certainly a sign that Germany’s economic climate is changing. Though he admits it is still not easy getting all of the required permits, his business was already at a break-even point after half a year, and continues to have an almost equal balance of income through rentals, game sales, and café business. I can only hope that his success will inspire more small business development—and creative concepts in board game businesses—around the country.

Editor's note: this is an updated version of an article that originally ran on the now-defunct Boardgamenews.com.

The Indonesian Finger Game

2011-07-07T16:33:00.000-07:00

I try to bring compact games wherever I go, in case there is an opportunity during the day to play. If I am any good at keeping "margin time" in my schedule, then those opportunities present themselves regularly. Sometimes, though, I find myself stuck in a line somewhere (at the post office, in an airport, etc.) without the table top or components to play a game. That's where the Indonesian Finger Game has become one of my most-played games in my...err... collection.

Boardgamenews.com writer Valerie Putman introduced me to this component-less, two-player abstract in her column several years ago. Not only do I play it whenever I have a few minutes and there are no boardgames in eyeshot, but I've also incorporated the game into my Annual After Essen Parties, holding a tournament each year. Following are the rules:

Object of the game
The goal is to eliminate both hands of your opponent by increasing the tally on each hand to 5 or more. But beware, a player can bring back a hand that has been eliminated. It takes careful planning to eliminate both hands!

Set up
Players face each other with their hands in front of them, each with a single digit (typically the pointer finger) extended. Randomly decide who will go first.

On your turn...

You may take either hand and use it to tap your own hand (the other hand) or either hand of your opponent. The number of fingers extended on the tapping hand are then added to the hand that is tapped. (So on the first turn, you will add a single finger to someone’s hand – resulting in three hands that still have just one finger pointing and one hand with two fingers extended.)
If the resulting total on a hand is 5 or more, the hand is reduced to zero (held in a fist with no fingers extended).
A hand with zero fingers is temporarily eliminated from the game and cannot be tapped as is done on a normal turn.
If on your turn you have one hand with zero fingers extended and more than one finger on your other hand, you can split the total from one hand between the two hands instead of tapping. For example, if you have zero fingers on one hand and four fingers on your second hand, you can bring your eliminated hand back into the game by dividing the four evenly, giving you two hands each with two fingers extended. The total must be divided evenly if possible. If dividing three, one hand will have one finger and one hand will have two. Remember, this is done instead of tapping another hand on a turn.

Winning the game
If you succeed in eliminating both hands of your opponent at the same time, you win!

5th Annual AFTER ESSEN PARTY

2011-07-06T07:08:00.000-07:00

Five years ago, Michael agreed to help me bring a little bit of SPIEL back from Essen and celebrate in his Spielwiese cafe all the great new games that are released there each year--many of them from Berlin designers.

I’ve just finished the After Essen Party page to show some of the fun from the past four years. As you can see, it has been a great mix of games and guests from around the world.

And SPIEL 2011 is just around the corner, which means that it’s time to start advertising the 5^th Annual After Essen Party! As always, it’s open to the public, athough space is limited and it is best to come early. Visiting designers are welcome to show their newly released games as well (please, however, no prototypes). Feel free to contact me or Michael at the Spielwiese in advance (especially if you are a game designer or publisher). The party is on the Tuesday after SPIEL, beginning at 7 p.m. Hope to see you at SPIEL and at the party in Berlin afterwards!

A Hand in the SPIEL DES JAHRES

2011-07-03T05:16:00.000-07:00

The Spiel des Jahres, the prestigious German game of the year award, has just been announced, and it occurred to me that I had a hand in bringing Qwirkle to the attention of the eventual German publisher.

It was summer of 2007, and I was signing my first contracts for game designs, while writing for Boardgamenews.com about my experiences as an American gamer and designer living in Germany. I was also a bit frustrated that I could never seem to make it to the Essen game convention—the largest in the world—because of scheduling conflicts every year. I finally decided to do something about it in a positive way instead of simply lamenting or complaining about it, like something I once heard about lemons and lemonade.

I talked to my friend, Spielwiese owner Michael Schmitt, and the “Annual After Essen Party” was born. The Spielweise had become the new home of our game designers’ group, and since most of us made it to the convention every year—and many of us were releasing games there as well—I thought it would be fun to celebrate once more with friends back in Berlin after the convention was over. And I would also invite all the other Berlin designers I knew, and even the ones I did not yet know. Everyone would bring their new releases, and together with the stash that Michael would bring back, we’d play games with each other and with anyone else who wanted to join in.

I immediately emailed invitations to all the gamers and game designers I knew in Berlin. But I also thought that it would be even better to have international “special guests” at the party. Essen did draw a large contingent of foreigners, after all, and many of these were gaming journalists and internet personalities, and it would be fun to have a diverse group of people who all had in common their interest in the gaming hobby.

My first international invitation was for my esteemed Boardgamenews editor, W. Eric Martin, who, with his wife, was planning to be in Germany for several weeks before and after the convention. He and Linda accepted, and then Eric added, “I’ll have extra room in my luggage—is there a game I can bring for you from the U.S.?” Since he’d lauded the game in a recent review, I requested Qwirkle.

Eric & Linda at the remnants of the Berlin Wall

After the convention was over, I had the pleasure of showing Eric and Linda around Berlin, and then we made our way to the party. Along with the game designers who regularly attended our Spielwiese group, designer Andrea Meyer was also there, along with Thorsten Gimmler, a designer and developer for Schmidt Spiele in Berlin. As I was taking care of my "Master of Ceremonies" duties, Eric and Linda took the opportunity to break out the copy of Qwirkle they brought for me and teach the game to Andrea and Thorsten. The Germans' first reaction upon hearing the rules was that the strategy seemed too obvious, but Eric and Linda proved there was more to the game by handily beating both of them.

Andrea & Thorsten at the first After Essen Party in 2007

Making "Qwirkle Sculptures" after playing the game at the After Essen Party

Afterwards, Eric and Linda gave me the game, which I’ve played and enjoyed many times since. Every year, I wondered whether it would finally be released in Germany, and when it did in October, 2010, it was no surprise that Thorsten’s own Schmidt Spiele was the publisher.

Now that Qwirkle has won the most prestigious award in boardgaming, I can take some satisfaction that my little party had a small part in bringing the game to the attention of a German publisher, and eventually to the German public. And even though boardgaming is a serious industry, it is encouraging to see that friendly game nights and the personal recommendations of friends still have a large role in getting good games published.

And as for my copy of Qwirkle, it may not have the iconic “red pawn” of the Spiel des Jahres award on its box cover, but it was probably the first copy of the game ever played in Germany.

Qwirkle box cover courtesy Mindware. Photos courtesy Linda and Eric Martin.

Prototype: STREET BASKETBALL

2011-06-23T14:49:00.000-07:00

There are many different motivations for making games. Of course, the goal is usually to make a game that appeals to as many people as possible and then get it published so that those people have the opportunity to play it. For me, however, sometimes a game design's sole purpose is simply to be a unique and personal gift for a good friend. And other times, I want to design a game that would be fun for my friends and family and I to play, no matter how unmarketable it may be. Street Basketball was one of those designs.

I am a long-time fan of watching, playing and coaching basketball, and I like dexterity games such as Carabande/Pitchcar that involve "flicking" wooden discs. The only dexterity Basketball game I own is Bas-ket, a fun little game of shooting ping-pong balls that I mastered much too quickly when I was a child. And I have never seen a game based on the 3-on-3 "And One" style of basketball that's played on street courts the world over from Rucker Park to Berlin.

A flicking game seemed obvious to simulate the passing and shooting of Basketball, and it was not difficult to add a simple rule for dribbling in the original rules outline. I also thought having a few action cards to allow each player a bonus pass or to break a game rule might add a nice twist not often present in flicking games.

My first version was designed to fit into a small card game case. It consisted only of a few wooden discs and the playing cards and was meant to be a portable game that could be played on any table top. The main issue with the components was to determine how to simulate a basketball basket, and I finally decided to use another wooden disc. To score a basket, a player would need to flick the basketball disc so that it hit the basket disc. I added a rubber base to the basket so that it would not move when hit.
This provided an asnwer to my design problem, but was obviously not the most thematic solution. I store the game away in my prototype closet, and did not play it again for a few years.

Baumeister Phase
This past year, I was in a "building phase" in that I was taking frequent trips with my sons to the Baumarkt, or hardware store, and bringing back all sorts of wooden pieces and assorted screws and bolts, then assembling them into all kinds of toys and household items at home, much to the delight of my boys. As I was in the process of building a puppet theater for them, it dawned on my that I could elaborate on my Street Basketball game idea, which had been all but forgotten under the avalanche of ideas I've had since. Most importantly, I could finally make a real board with a hole cut out of it for the basket, something that would, at long last, satisfy my craving for a better thematic connection.

Then, one day, my sons and I were at a popular indoor playground and we discovered an Air Hockey game, which was immediately a hit with them, even when they needed to stand on chairs in order to reach the table. When we returned home, the boys found different items to make their own air hockey game on the floor of their room. I even helped them make the "paddles" for the game out of Tinker Toys. While we were knocking the "puck" around, I thought about making a game board for this game as well. It was then that I realized that I could combine the game with Street Basketball so that it could be flipped over to play Air Hockey. I decided to modify the rules slightly and change it to a culturally-appropriate soccer theme.

I used two pieces of masonite board, one for each playing surface. It was necessary to use two pieces because, first, I needed to cut the hole out of the basketball side of the game and, second, both sides needed the "slick" surface for the wooden discs to slide effectively. I then cut 2 cm square pine strips for the edges. For each game, I drilled 20 holes into the strips--10 on each side--for the two scoring tracks. I added furniture pads to both sides so that the game would not scratch a wooden table or floor. Finally, I used paint pens to draw the lines and basket. I took the wooden discs from a bag of extra Backgammon pieces and printed out the player and ball graphics onto sticky-back address label paper.

Since finishing the game, Table Soccer has proven to be more popular with my sons, although I expect that Street Basketball will become more popular as they get older and more skilled in the art of flicking. I'm happy to have both options, however, in one game board. The process was fun and much different than the other games I've designed, and I've added my local hardware store to my list of places that are good to visit for game design inspiration.

Design that Makes Players Better

2011-06-06T06:55:00.000-07:00

I was crossing a main boulevard in Berlin a few nights ago, in order to pick up a DVD for my wife and I to watch that evening. It is a busy street, with a grassy island in the center and two sets of tracks for the streetcars that travel each way on that island. At various intervals, there are paved pedestrian crossings across the tracks.

At a break in the traffic, I strolled to one of those crossings, lost in my thoughts as the city air turned cool in the early evening. After making it across one track, however, I was jolted out of my daydream by the sight of a streetcar coming towards me from the opposite direction on the other track. I saw it in plenty of time to stop and wait, however, because of the way the path across the island was designed: the civil engineers did not simply pave a straight path across, but, instead, made it jog a few meters so that the pedestrian would be forced to turn in the direction of the oncoming street car, no matter which way he would cross. There was no need for me to even turn my head to make sure the way was clear, and metal fences also prevented teenage cyclists from darting across carelessly while plugged into their iPods.

It may seem funny, but I was inspired by the thought that went into such a simple, utilitarian design. And I was impressed that--although it was purely functional and not at all an aesthetic work--it's design was successful in actually reducing human error and accidents. I began to ponder other areas of design in which the functional aspect can be so well thought-out that it limits human error, and, naturally, I thought of boardgame design as well.

It seems that there are much too many games in which human error plays a part in souring the game (think deduction games) or, at best, making it drag a bit. The paved crosswalk near my home, then, begs the question, "Are these games functionally well designed?" Can games be designed in a way that limits mistakes--that help the players actually perform better?

Certainly, one of the aspects that can help people play games better is to have clear and concise rules sheets, written in a way that is easy to process and internalize so that one can focus on exploring the game's tactics. If they are not clear, than players are distracted by constant referral to those rules, and they are often distracted from the gameplay by trying to remember all of the cases ("If you do this, than this is the result, except when..."). The best games are the ones that have rules sheets that can be read (and even studied) but then put back in the box during the game.

It is then up to the components of the game to push players along, much the same way that crosswalk helped lead me across the streetcar tracks unscathed. Because the game board and pieces are much more than simply markers tracking the player's progress during the game--they are also symbols and clues to the mechanics of the game. Components--which include the illustrations, language-independent symbols, and shapes and colors of the bits--do matter. The sooner players can form associations between the components and the rules, the better they will play the game.

I've always stressed the importance of theme in games, and I believe that it completes a kind of Vitruvian triangle of boardgame design together with the rules and components. Theme, however, is much more "big picture" in that it can be a helpful bridge tying the game's components to its rules.

The functionality of a game, then, depends not only on an elegant ruleset, but also on the ability of its theme and components to continue telling the story that the rules introduce. If a certain kind of move is forbidden in the rules, it should be obvious in the board artwork and components as well, and it should be intuitive in regards to its theme. If a specific card is required to perform a specific action, the cards and action spaces should likewise physically and graphically correspond to each other.

This type of design helps avoid the annoying breaks in gameplay when players forget rules: "Wait--can I take that last action back? I forgot that you could do this instead." Ultimately, it can even help players play better.

WHY Do I Design Games?

2011-06-01T16:07:00.000-07:00

Why do I design games? Just about everyone I know asks me this question eventually, and I probably respond with a different answer each time. Oftentimes, it's even easier to explain which motivations I do not have, namely fame and fortune.

Recently, however, I took some time to reflect a bit more on this point. So, for what it's worth in blogging currency (which, admittedly, is pretty cheap these days), following are the events and inspirations that led me to start designing boardgames, and reasons why I continue to do so...the "long answer" to the oft-asked question:

Can't Stop

When I was in grade school, one of my teachers gave me an assignment to write a short story. After the assignment was finished, I simply could not stop myself from writing more. It was as if my teacher had opened floodgates that let my creativity pour out, with no way to stop it.

Later, in high school, the same thing happened in 9th grade English class. I was to write a book of poetry, which would include at least a dozen separate poems using various styles and subjects. At first apprehensive, I found that after completing the assignment, I could not stop writing, and I continued to submit poetry to that teacher all through high school, even when I was no longer a student in her class. Again, it was as if an internal "on" switch had been activated, with no apparent way to turn it "off". Poetry remains a creative outlet for me to this day.

When I studied architecture at the university--and later practiced it in Berlin--it was also difficult for me to shut out thoughts about my current designs. Architects are known for being obsessive about their work, and are even famous for the "napkin sketches" they make while away from their drafting tables. I was no different, bringing sketch books with me wherever I went.

Since I started designing games seriously about seven years ago, I have likewise been unable to shut out the ideas for mechanisms and themes that come to me during odd moments of the day. The sketchbooks I carry around everywhere still have poetry and art in them, but more often these days, they are filled with game design ideas.

The Joy of Playing

I’ve always enjoyed playing games, and I enjoy exploring what others have done with the medium. Just as a good writer must enjoy reading, a good game designer must enjoy playing games. And after discovering the avalanche of games I’d been missing—even though I’d lived in Germany for several years already—I was very motivated to make up for lost time, and I quickly amassed a collection of classics through the frequent flea market visits I made with my wife. I’m still trying to play through these, even after attending and hosting game nights in which I learn at least two new games each session.

I still enjoy discovering different game mechanisms, even those that seem out-of-date in comparison to those incorporated into the modern crop of games. It is interesting to experience the history and evolution of game design through playing older games, and their beauty can still be appreciated in the same way older works of poetry can be cherished, even when the poet’s use of language is much different than our own today.

Building Things
The tactile nature of boardgames is one of the reasons I prefer them to computer games. It is no surprise, then, that I enjoy the prototype-making process when designing games. As an architect, I often designed through model-making, and I often do the same through the making of prototypes. Besides the enjoyment of making, I can think more clearly about the rules and gameplay when I am working with the visual and tactile elements, and the materials I choose (and limits I place on materials) can even inform the design.

Positive Feedback

It’s true that I probably would not have continued in many of the creative endeavors mentioned above without some measure of positive feedback, whether from peers or teachers.

I was, however, a closet game designer for a long time before I finally brought one of my prototypes to the “professionals” for their expert opinions. And although that first prototype wasn’t successful, they saw enough thought in it to encourage me to keep designing, and to make connections with other designers and publishers. That gave me confidence to continue, even when I knew realistically that it would be very difficult to get published. Positive feedback—and the desire to work hard enough to receive it—was enough motivation for me to continue designing games.

Science and Art

I feel that I’m much more of an artist than a scientist, but game design is as much of a science as it is an art form. Just as playing a good game challenges both my creativity and my problem-solving abilities, designing a good game also presents plenty of problems to be solved in addition to the opportunity for creativity. In fact, writing rules for a new game is very similar to writing a flowchart for a computer program. There are many other factors to consider as well: player decision trees, boundaries and limits, story arc, mechanisms, and how the theme and rules fit together. And there is really no way of getting around the math of it all, unless the game is more of a communicative “party” game.

I enjoy this back-and-forth exercise between the right and left sides of my brain during the design process, and I can’t imagine it any other way, just as I would not want to go to the gym every day and only work on my biceps. Game design, then, is a well-rounded exercise, a science and an art.

Interaction with People

One of the reasons I enjoy boardgames—and prefer them over computer games—is the interaction with the other people at the table. I probably could not have survived my first few years in Berlin if I would not have enjoyed meeting new people, and when I discovered German boardgames, it was just as exciting for me to get to know German gamers.

Through one of my gaming groups, I found it fascinating to meet game designers, and to learn from them about their own creative processes and how the industry works.

I even enjoyed networking with publishers, as the ones I’ve met love to play games as much as I do and thus believe in their products. They usually offered useful feedback and would even make referrals in case they saw potential in a prototype that did not fit in their brand.

Playing games is a community activity, and designing games is a team project that requires good relationships to work. All of my games could only be as good as they are with the help of playtesters, other designers and publishers, and my friendships with them will last much longer than any print run.
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Why do other people design games? You can check out some of the answers from other game designers at the Board Game Designer's Forum.

Review: FREEZE

2011-05-25T01:16:00.000-07:00

For over a decade, I've enjoyed watching improvisational comedy both live and on television. There was a time, in fact, when I was so addicted that I requested my parents send me videotaped episodes of Who's Line is it, Anyway? from the U.S. I took notes on the different improv games and situations, and soon hosted improv parties with my friends and youth group in Berlin. There was, of course, the occasional over- or under-acting among the amateurs I assembled, but I was always astounded by the creativity and humor that almost always emerged from each skit. Rarely did anything fall completely flat, and we often laughed so much, we were literally gasping for air.

I have often thought about how one could turn one of these improv games into a successful party board game and can happily report that a new game – Freeze, released at the Spiel 2010 convention – has done just that. Fellow Berlin designer Andrea Meyer has teamed up with Hans-Peter Stoll – himself an improv actor in an amateur theater group – to create what will arguably be the game most likely to draw a crowd in Essen this year.

For my first play, I was able to borrow a demo copy of the game from the Spielwiese games café and tried it out for the first time with the gaming group I host at the community center where I work. We had a mixed group of three men, two young women and two teenage girls, all of whom enjoy playing a large variety of games.

Freeze includes ten plastic actor and actress badges for each participant to wear. Numbers are printed along the sides of the badges and paper clips are provided to keep track of a player's score by attaching it to the appropriate number. For a game in which the players are always moving about dramatically, this component works very well.

The game also includes a deck of cards, a sand timer, and a four-sided die. The rules to the game are laid out in a beautiful, full-color booklet in German, French and English, and the English translation is top notch – something uncommon for smaller German publishers.

To set up the game, a small table is needed, along with a larger area where the improv players can have room to move. A "stage" card is placed in the middle of the table, with an "audience" card (showing theater seating) placed below it. Four actor cards are placed above the stage card to show which players will form the first comedy troupe. The others are placed below the audience card, as they will watch the skit and one of them will try to guess the situation being acted.

A deck of situation cards is shuffled, and the top card is drawn and shown only to the actors. Each card has four different situations (for example: "in the castle" or "at the cash register") and the die is rolled to see which one on the card will be acted this time.

The final preparation is the distribution of "rank" cards, which are the heart of the game. The ranks range from 1 to 4, and each actor will receive one, keeping it secret from the audience AND from the other actors. After the skit, each player wins or loses points based on her ability to guess which actor has a chosen rank. The actors also gain or lose points depending on whether or not at least one other person guesses her rank.

When the sand timer is turned over, the skit begins, and the players must act out the scene while trying to play out his or her "rank" within that scene. For example, if the scene is a hospital, and you have the rank of 1, you will probably try to play the part of the head doctor. If you have the rank of 4, you might be a patient, while the other ranks could fill out the roles of assistants and nurses, etc. None of the actors are allowed to mention their ranks or the situation specifically during the skit, but they are otherwise allowed to speak and act as much as they like, even incorporating nearby objects as props.

This would all be a bit too easy, except that the designers included a nice mechanism to make it possible for two actors to have the same rank, in which case one of the ranks is completely missing! This is accomplished through the use of two sets of four rank cards each. One set is shuffled, after which a card is drawn from it without looking at it and added to the other set. Those five cards are then shuffled, and one is drawn and placed face-up, while the other four are distributed secretly to the four actors. This sounds a bit complicated in the rules, but is actually quite easy in practice, and makes the game much more interesting. The face-up rank card gives everyone a hint as to which rank will only be in the skit a maximum of one time – and possibly even be missing altogether.

After one minute of improv, the sand timer runs out, and the audience shouts "Freeze!" The audience member with the lowest score gets one guess at the situation. If correct, she wins 2 points, which is very helpful as a catch-up mechanism.

Then, the die is rolled again, and all players (actors and audience) simultaneously guess which actor – if any – had the rank shown on the die. Players hold both hands in the air, and on the count of 3, point to the actor or actors thought to have that rank. For example, if you thought only one actor had that rank, you point to that person with one hand and keep your other hand in the air. If you have the rank indicated, you point to yourself with one hand – and use the other to point to someone else if you think another actor had the same rank. Again, this seems a bit complicated when reading and explaining the rules, but after a round or two, all the players are completely comfortable with it.

Players receive 3 points for each correct guess and lose 1 point for each incorrect guess, thus it does not make sense to "play it safe" and just keep both hands in the air each time, as that neither wins nor loses points. An actor who has the rank indicated receives 3 points if at least one other player guesses her rank correctly, and loses 1 point if no one did (and, of course, that actor can still get points by correctly guessing which actor had the same rank, if that is the case).

Once all players have updated their scores using the paper clips on their badges, some of the cards from the stage are shifted to the audience, while some from the audience are moved up to the stage area to determine the next group of four actors. Freeze is for 5-10 players, and I have found in subsequent plays that it works fine with five, although the game naturally wants an audience of more than one person.

During the first round or two, the rank cards and the guessing/scoring system take a little more time as the players learn the game, but thereafter, they breeze through these elements quickly, and the improv acting takes center stage.

The acting aspect of the game is laugh-out-loud fun, as the situations are well-chosen, and even the most introverted gamer can find a humorous role to play that might fit his rank. But this game also has plenty of depth to explore, and as the mechanisms become more transparent, the actors noticeably improve in how they respond to the rank distribution and how they interact with each other onstage.

One of our first situations, for example, was a "Film Set," but none of the actors had the Rank 1 card. Consequently, no one took charge of the scene, playing the role as director. I had the rank 4 and tried to play the part of an "extra" off to the side, but the other actors mistook me for the director, and I had to quickly adjust, grabbing a house plant and taking a more lowly position on the set. The other actors were not sure what to do, however, and the skit was a bit of a flop.

We learned from this experience that the situations in which there is no Rank 1 are the most challenging to pull off, but by the end of the game, we all had gained the skills necessary to make even these scenes work. The ranking system is wonderful in requiring an awareness of the other actors, especially as the rank distribution is never fully known. And as the game progresses and the actors become more comfortable with the system and each other, the skits improve both in their clarity and hilarity.

The game ends after about a half-dozen rounds, when one player reaches 16 points. Even the more introverted strategy gamers in our group enjoyed the experience, and several have purchased copies of the game for themselves as well as extra copies to give friends and family as gifts.

For those who are looking for a party game with some creative and communicative depth to it, or even an interesting filler to get your game group moving about in between cube-pushing sessions, I can heartily recommend Freeze.

Game images courtesy Andrea Meyer and Bewitched Spiele.

POSTCARD FROM BERLIN #48: My Favorite Things

2011-05-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

My latest article in the Postcards From Berlin series is up on the Opinionated Games website. It's that time of year to discuss favorite games of 2010, and I take inspiration from John Coltrane in writing about "my favorite things."

Games in Galleries

2011-04-26T15:56:00.000-07:00

The Family Center where I work was recently turned into a gallery by a group of visiting artists. As some of them transformed the main room into an exhibition space, others performed music while a friend from a local catering service demonstrated how to cook some amazing Thai recipes. Together with some inviting Spring weather and opportunity for children to make their own art outside, it made for a very creative and festive atmosphere.

Photo courtesy of BobbiJo Brooks

I thought it would also provide a good opportunity to present my game-as-art project, War Game: A Prototype For Peace, in a better context. Up until now, I had only tested the game during a game night or prototype-testing session, where it was compared to other games that were meant mainly as entertainment. This would, instead, be an opportunity for people who are unfamiliar with the gaming culture to approach this as a work of art. At least, that was my hope.

Photo courtesy of BobbiJo Brooks

The exhibit actually started Friday, and that evening, I held my usual game night. Naturally, I encouraged those in attendance to try the game out and leave their comments in my “guest book.” Unsurprisingly, their comments revealed that the players were uneasy with having to define the victory conditions for themselves. They were used to having it done for them, and it was difficult for them to experience this game out of that context.

Photo courtesy of BobbiJo Brooks

Most players adopted a victory condition typical of many other games: that the one who controlled the most territories at the end of the game won. And the games usually ended when no more cards could be played to remove figures from the board.

One player commented that he was “prepared to play more peacefully, but it never happened.” It seems he was only prepared to do so if the other player followed suite. Otherwise, he was weary of giving up any perceived advantages by playing “peacefully.”

Photo courtesy of BobbiJo Brooks

The following day, I was able to speak to several people who were not frequent game-players, but were interested in the ideas behind the game and how the mechanisms supported its theme. In fact, they were interested in these things more than in the game-play itself. Even though I had several good conversations, no one was interested in sitting down to interact with the game.

My experience probably represents the greatest challenge of creating a boardgame that is meant as art: those who play boardgames have trouble seeing the game out of its normal context as entertainment, while those who do not regularly play boardgames may appreciate the theme and message of the art, but are not compelled to interact with it by playing the game.

Even so, I’m not one to give up so easily. There are plenty of other subjects I’d like to explore using the boardgame medium, and perhaps a body of work presented in a single exhibition will be more compelling.

Besides, I recently stumbled upon an article about video games in art galleries in the April issue of ArtNEWS. The article is titled "Let the Games Begin," written by Carolina A. Miranda.

According to the article, some artists are now exploring the medium of video games in their work. Christiane Paul, curator of the Whitney Museum, says that “New-media art,” which includes video games, “is still very far from being fully integrated into the art world.” But artists such as Daniel Beunza and Cory Arcangel are helping to change that. Even the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, D.C. is scheduled to open an exhibit on the art and history of video game design next year.

Beunza values the medium for it’s interactivity, the “lived experiences” that video games produce. The article does point out the obvious limits that museums face, however, as there can only be a small number of “players” (sometimes only one) interacting with a game at any given time. This is also a limiting factor for boardgames meant as interactive exhibits in museums.

And Arcangel’s work in deconstructing video games for his art has also had its critics. Miranda writes, “one video-game theorist decried the fact that ‘for games to be embraced by museums, they have to give up their gameness’—namely, the key aspect of play.” This reminds me of Yoko Ono’s all-white chess set, which was a work of art based on a game, but stripped of any “aspect of play,” as Miranda puts it.

This is not to say that one cannot create art in this way. It may, in fact, be possible to create art using game materials and metaphors without the aspect of play. But surely a stronger use of the medium—and a more challenging work of art—would be to take advantage of its potential for interactivity.

And therein lies the challenge any game artist faces. He or she must encourage the museumgoer to see the game as art—and also to play it.

Emotionally Repressed?

2011-04-18T16:04:00.000-07:00

If you've ever been witness to a Chess tournament, you know what I'm talking about. A pin dropping might cause one of the contestants to jump out of his or her seat. It's that quiet. I stumbled upon a tournament while I was in Macedonia several years ago. And from what I've seen in films about these kinds of events, I could have been anywhere. That stoic Chess-player is also the typical image the general public has of a modern boardgamer.

As I visited a recent gaming event in Berlin, I did, in fact, notice a similar atmosphere. Sure, there were intermittent discussions and laughter between games, but most of the players were intently engaged in the components on their respective tables.

Afterwards, I began to wonder if gamers repress their emotions more than the average person. And I began to think about games that actually encourage this: namely those with bluffing elements. There's nothing more somber, after all (and filled with latent tension) then watching a high-stakes Poker match. They don't call them "Poker faces" for nothing.

Well-known Italian designer Leo Colovini must like Poker, as many of his games include bluffing as a core element. Clans and Familienbaende, for example, both have players receiving secret identities which are only revealed at the end of the game, when the winner is finally revealed. A player can't make moves that obviously benefit one particular clan or family, otherwise the other players will be able to effectively hinder her the remainder of the game. And a player cannot react emotionally when her position is weakened, as it also reveals which clan or family she controls.

In popular games like Werewolf--or my favorite current variant of that game, The Resistance--players are secretly working together to eliminate or sabotage other players, without knowing anyone's identity or allegiance at the outset.

I'm terrible at bluffing games, and am not good at playing the part of the saboteur in The Resistance, although I really enjoy the game. Perhaps it's because I usually wear my emotions on my sleeve, so to speak. Sometimes, that's a good thing, while other times, it is probably better to be able hold back for a more appropriate time and place.

I do wonder if bluffing games encourage--or even train--players to repress their emotions. I would imagine that an occasional bluffing game mixed in with a variety of games in an evening is harmless. They could even be beneficial in this context, the way a steady diet includes a variety of foods that each serve different purposes.

Although I'm not a psychologist, I still can't help but wonder if there are ever any repercussions for serious Poker players, especially the kind who earn a living through gamely repressing their emotions, keeping a straight face while knowing full well that a single turn of a card could represent an enormous change in fortune.

GAME DESIGN TV - Part IV: Showtime

2011-04-14T03:45:00.000-07:00

I already wrote about my experiences in filming a segment on game design for the ARTE program X:enius (see Part I, Part II, and Part II on this blog). The show was aired this week, and will only be online until next week. Furthermore, it is unfortunately blocked to viewers from the U.S. Below is a brief description of the final show, which lasted 26 minutes:

“Warum wir spielen, und was wir dadurch lernen (Why we play and what we learn from it)”

The program opens with the moderators, Dörthe und Pierre playing a large-scale game of Scotland Yard in the streets of Berlin with the help of an iPhone App. They discuss the enormity of the computer game market which transitions to a segment on South Korea, where professional gamers, earning 6-figure salaries, compete in the computer game Starcraft live, in front of 120,000 fans.

A surreal shot includes a gaming club “training” in a room full of computers. One young professional gamer admits, “We don’t have any time to meet with friends. Sure, we’re at an age when we could be discovering the world, but that doesn’t interest us. We just want to play (computer games).” Understandably, there are treatment centers in South Korea specifically dealing with computer gaming addictions.

Back in Berlin, Dörthe und Pierre reflect on their favorite childhood games. Predictably, Pierre picks the French classic card game, Milles Bornes, and Dörthe chooses the German Parcheesi variant and best-seller Mensch ärgere dich nicht.

Then, another monologue about the history of games: “Before people could write, they played. The world changes, but the urge to play remains.” Four types of games are described: dexterity, chance, strategy, and a synthesis of several of these. Most games today, claims the narrator, are in this latter category, whether traditional or computer games. They interview someone from the Computer Game Museum in Berlin, something I had never heard of. They then film at Potsdam’s Center for Computer Game Research, demonstrating computer games which sense body motions (like the Wii games) and are also a synthesis of dexterity, strategy and chance.

At the 14:00 minute mark, Dörthe und Pierre visit the Spielwiese and interview Michael. “Are computer games a danger [to boardgame popularity]?” he is asked by Pierre. Michael: “No, boardgames were here before, computer games came later, both are developing further side by side.” Dörthe: “…you could probably make more money selling computer games.” Michael: “That may very well be true…but who wants to sit across from a monitor…It’s much nicer to sit together with other people…” Both are astounded when Michael tells them that over 700 new boardgames are released every year.

Dörthe then introduces the boardgame design segment, “And behind each one of these games is a game idea and an inventor…” I am shown walking down my street, entering my house, looking through a bookshelf of games in our living room, etc. The editing is well-done, and set to a nice, guitar-driven soundtrack and monologue.

The narrator points out how playtime with my sons also inspired the first prototype of Würfelburg. They also show me playing my prototype for a wooden dexterity-based street-basketball game, which I built mainly for myself and my family. They show my published games and include my explanation for my best-seller, Aber bitte mit Sahne (Piece o’ Cake). Then comes the montage of scenes we filmed as I draw and construct the final prototype for Würfelburg, interspersed with interviews on how I happened upon my first game designers’ playtesting group in Berlin. As I pack up Würfelburg to take to my playtesting group at the Spielwiese, the narrator points out that the game is a synthesis of dexterity, strategy and chance, tying in with the thesis presented earlier that most modern games fall into this category.

Dörthe asks me later in the Spielwiese why I don’t invent computer games, since there is more money to be made. I think it was clear from Michael’s and my answers that we are doing this because we enjoy it, not to fill our respective pockets.

At the end of my interview, they use my nationality as a transition to the final segment of the program, a historical look at American-made and international bestseller Monopoly. Interesting to note was its popularity in the former East Germany, as residents made do-it-yourself copies of the banned game, including some very original and culturally fitting “Chance” and “Community Chest” cards.

The show ends as it began, with Dörthe und Pierre playing another game. This time, it’s a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who will drive the X:enius van. Pierre wins, and they drive off.

Air Time

2011-04-12T04:45:00.000-07:00

The timing is funny, but my games have been featured in two separate news shows about modern gaming in the past two weeks--one on each side of the ocean.

The first aired on April 3rd on CBS Sunday Morning News, in which moderator Mo Rocca played a game of Piece o' Cake at the GENCON convention. The program, entitled Board Games Through the Ages, is also online.

Today, a show is airing on German/French TV station ARTE on their news program X:enius discussing the history of playing games and the modern developments in computer games and traditional board games. They visit the Spielwiese and film the development of one of my unpublished games from inspiration to prototype. The program is also already online in German and in French.

Unfortunately, the program is only viewable online in Germany and France, I believe. Here's the official description:

Ob Brettspiele, Computerspiele oder Rollenspiele, allein oder mit Freunden und der Familie - fest steht, der Spieltrieb steckt in jedem von uns. Gesellschaftsspiele gehören zu den ältesten kulturellen Ausdrucksformen der Menschen, noch vor Schrift- und Lesekultur. Doch auch Computerspiele sind schon lange keine einsame Angelegenheit mehr.

In Korea werden die Computerspiel-Wettkämpfe der Gaming-Liga bereits in großen Stadien vor gut 100.000 Zuschauern abgehalten. Aber warum spielen wir und was lernen wir dadurch? Und was macht ein gutes Spiel aus? Dörthe Eickelberg und Pierre Girard erfahren von einem Spieleentwickler, wie Spiele konzipiert werden und dürfen dabei exklusiv einen bisher noch geheimen Prototypen testen.

Just Enough Time

2011-04-02T13:07:00.000-07:00

It has been difficult to find the time to write, as I have been so busy lately. In spite of this, I feel fulfilled in every other aspect of my life, having no shortage of basic necessities, relationships, ideas or diversions. What I always seem to lack, though, is time. It could be our generation's most valuable resource.

It is no surprise to me, then, that the past several years have seen game designs with the element of time playing an important role. Games as diverse as Thebes, Stronghold, and Merkator all use time tracks or time chits, much the same way tracks and chits are used to record victory points and other resources in other games. This is, of course, not including all the recent games that are played in real time with the help of sand timers and soundtrack CDs, such as Space Dealer and Space Alert.

I once wrote about the postmodern evolution in games that changed the goal from trying to earn the most money to garnering the most "prestige points," emphasizing fame over fortune. It seems only natural that, as a reflection of our hectic lifestyles, time would also become a commodity in boardgames, right alongside wood and wool and other typical resources.

The old adage "time is money" is, obviously, too simplistic. It really comes down to time + work + demand for that work + many other factors eventually generates money. And money gives you more opportunities to invest time and resources--or the opportunity to take "time off" for a holiday, after having built up a virtual reserve of time. In any case, many of today's engine-building-type games can surely handle the complexities of adding the time factor to their cube-churning formulas.

Since time is our most prized resource at the moment, and time-management is our most necessary skill, there is surely room to reflect this resource--and the management of it--in boardgame design.

I'm afraid, though, that for now at least, I'm out of time...