EPT
This is the second part of the story of my first ever game jam! Part One is here. Without it, this will be very unclear.
Well, I was wrong. In the planning phases of the game, several things became clear. The first was that the person who originally championed my game idea wasn’t actually interested in the original concept, but instead the potential applications of the concept’s technology. So, unfortunately, NOM went from being a zombie-finds-and-consumes-heart game to a slightly gamified walking tour app, making it neither a real game nor appropriately named. While I should have noticed this degeneration when my co-creator fell asleep in the planning meeting, I remained overly optimistic, assuming that whatever we made would be fun to create and a decent learning experience. Secondly, my teammates self-assigned roles weren’t entirely accurate. My co-creator and I are definitely both programmers, but we’re both new to game programming, so we weren’t sure how helpful we’d be. Unfortunately our “senior” programming expert wasn’t that much better than we were, only specializing in back end functionality, meaning the two of us learned less than we could have. Then there were our two “designers.” One was a graphic designer rather than a game designer, so the artist tag would’ve been more accurate for her. The other was a preschool teacher with an interest in game creation, but no experience in the process. In fairness, the “Designer” tag was actually a “Designer/Other” tag, so that bit of confusion is more GGJ’s fault than his. While none of this was bad in itself, it made for a misleading (though very cheerful and cooperative) team dynamic (though our sound guy was legit and amazing, fwiw). Finally, some of my teammates were in the “we don’t play games” contingent, which explains why I had trouble relating to them on the subject and why their ideas didn’t result in a real game. Perhaps it was in my best interest to walk away from the project in these telling early stages, but I was so psyched about the whole thing (initially) that leaving didn’t seem like an option.
In the next two days, we moved on to development, which, ironically (it being the whole point of the jam), is the least interesting bit to write about. There are plenty of technical details I could discuss, but they only merit a list: using Javascript and Python, finding Google GPS APIs, utilizing the jQuery mobile library for UI and Bitbucket for version control, creating graphics with Adobe Illustrator, editing files in Vim or Espresso. The various successes and struggles of the process were standard ones in a coding project, especially one with a short deadline: figuring out the nicest UI, forcing complex features to work properly, the occasional commit overwrite or error, obtaining information and assets from outside, and all of the testing. GGJ’s administrators kept us well-fed and well-caffinated, making the weekend very pleasant overall, with the exception of sitting in the same room for 30+ hours and my on-and-off cold. When the jam deadline arrived on Sunday, we had cobbled together a program that resembled our original concept, but was still buggy, particularly due to last minute changes. At this point, I (read: everyone) was tired, frustrated, and ready to be back home, which made the upcoming presentations that much more unpalatable.
Obviously we couldn’t leave the jam without seeing the fruits of our 48-hour labors. It is honestly incredible to be presented with a bunch of half-formed ideas on a Friday, then see actual fully-formed games on the following Sunday. It’s just unfortunate that we needed to make a presentation about them. Every game was great in certain respects, though my favorites were EKG Runner and Monster Healthcare. Regardless of the flaws of the presented games, all of them were, in fact, games, which made presenting our non-game rather… embarrassing. It felt odd to stand in front of all the accomplished game developers and present neither a game nor a working product. It didn’t help that I was already cranky, being exhausted and all. Yet such is the learning process. Again, perhaps I should have avoided the project with which I became involved, but it was even valuable to learn signs of what to avoid. That being said, next year, I’d like to make a real game.
Despite what could certainly be called a “bad jam experience,” there will be a next year for me and game jams. The jam taught me a ton about making games, if if they’re small and simple. I became far more proficient with the Vim editor and learned a ton about HTML, CSS, and Javascript over the weekend. I also recognized the power of HTML5 and Javascript game creation libraries, which were elements of some of the most robust and fun games at the jam. I confronted the fatigue induced by working one’s brain and heart for days to create something that you hope will be cool and fun. I identified some of the signs of a project that will inevitably bore you. And I found the confidence to keep going to jams. The nervousness I felt at the beginning was replaced with the knowledge that these jams would be able to teach me something even if I had little to offer, and the certainty that I would inevitably contribute something to any project in which I took part. I’ll keep going to game jams (and Global Game Jam in particular) because I love games and I’d love to be able to make them the way I see them in my head. If you feel the same way, no matter who you are, you should try a jam too.
You can read more inspirational tales like this one at the N3rd Dimension.
