Just yesterday, I was watching some show about classical music bits (Mozart, Bach, etc) making their way into popular French variety tracks. Those 70s/80s artist tapped into the global musical pool to produce some more awesome songs. Just like Disney took strong inspiration in the Grimms Brother bibliography to produce classical pieces.

And then – fucking then – those players turn around and extend copyright protection to 70 years, in a modern world where everything goes faster than before. They do it to prevent others to build upon their work, knowing full well they have done it themselves. And they have the nerve to say piracy is dangerous for creation!

But hey, just like Einstein said, “The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing”

I very much agree that the poor Invisible War has been unjustly ripped to shred. Some of the gameplay choices I’m not too fond of, but moving away from the incoherent patchwork of conspiracy theories definitely was for the best.

As far as I am concerned, the setting, the character and the stories in DXIW were fresh and significantly better than in the original. Should receive my copy of DXHR soon, but I’ve heard great things about the writing in this one…

Looks like LulzSec and Anonymous are in bed together, and with a cause. Apparently, they intend to pick up where WikiLeaks left off with the arrest of founder Julian Assange and the gutting of the website (and its support pipes).

Except…

Well, except they will get their information through hacking, but more importantly, they probably won’t release the documents with the same subtlety WikiLeaks did. No matter how you look at it, WikiLeaks’ way of releasing its leaks may not have been perfect, but it was full of good intentions. Had it been given a chance, the organization would have improved through criticism, and by now, we could have a responsible whistle-blower, something we all stand to gain from.

And yet the “civilized” world over-reacted, pointed to very formal rules on how things were supposed to be done, and it cried that WikiLeaks wasn’t respectful of anything, accused it to be evil and did everything it could to choke the baby to death. This approach, a classic example of the “Shoot first, ask questions later” ideology, is coming back to bite us in our collective ass.

Reminder: When you encounter something new and weird, there may be something newer and weirder right behind it, and just maybe you’d be better of befriending the former than the later.

In this case, shoving the whistle-blowing cause under the carpet and with false pretensions angered a lot of people. And because no gloves were taken to handle what these people cared about, they’re not going to worry about being civil with what they get their hands on.

Here’s what they might be thinking, I figure:

If you hadn’t castrated WikiLeaks, its civility would have made it a better conduit for these materials, but because you were too stupid to seize the opportunity, you’ll just have us now, dedicated to the truth above all else…

Or something to that effect.

Now, that may go from mildly bad to very bad, only time will tell. But there are people high up the ladder who should have known better and who must be pulling their hair off.

To me it’s the best by far, thanks to the The Mark & Execute system.

In the original recipe, the stealth gameplay was strictly enforced, to the point of absurdity: It was impossibly hard to shoot someone, and being discovered with your hand in the metaphorical cookie jar almost invariably resulted in Fisher bleeding out on the concrete – even when facing a single, isolated enemy.

I suppose the contrived difficulty was how the developers chose to force the players down a purely stealth path. In the end, it feels unnatural in terms of narrative (Fisher is a super-duper agent who… doesn’t seem to be able to dispatch a single enemy?), but also gameplay (the player feels incredibly potent in some situations, but utterly powerless in others). Also, I’ve never been a fan of stealth games where you can pick out guards one by one without their friends noticing anything. In my world, shit is bound to happen.

Now, fast-forward to SC: Conviction. Detractors have complained that the Mark & Execute ruins the spirit of the game. I can only agree to that if it’s used extensively. When used by a player willing to “play the game,” it makes perfect sense and fixes the aforementioned gameplay/narrative disconnect.

Specifically, I use it as a contingency plan: Say I intend to take down this one guard, but notice two others chatting not far from there. I mark both of them just in case, then perform a silent take-down of some kind on my primary target. If the pair doesn’t see me, then it’s onto the next one and I’m playing the way I would have in SC1. If I get spotted, I don’t die in an utterly absurd way. This strategic approach is (to me) just as important when playing a stealth game than say, creeping in the shadows.

In the end, I think designers always try to create a focused experience – and they should. But sometimes, giving the players some leeway instead of building strict constraints right into the game mechanics can add to the mix. A lot of players are willing to “work” to step into their character’s shoes, which results in a greater involvement.

Which is why I’ve always thought the whole our-protagonist-doesn’t-talk-so-the-player-can-relate-better was bullshit.

So Dead Space 2 outsells the original game 2-to-1.

And I remember a time when EA executives weren’t too sure they’d bother with a Dead Space 2. Or a Mirror’s Edge 2, for that matter, displeased that they were with the sales.

And yet, what’s happening with Dead Space 2 is nothing to be puzzled over. Think about it:

1. Both Dead Space and Mirror’s Edge were surprises, fresh franchises that no one was expecting or too sure of. I’m quite sure they were both downloaded widely.
2. Because the quality was definitely there, however, each games created a solid following of gamers wanting more.
3. Then EA opted to not move forward with a Mirror’s Edge sequel, and hesitated on a Dead Space sequel.

Why? It sure as hell wasn’t the right time to hesitate, with fans out there wanting more. If a sequel had tanked, then sure, it would have been time to call it a day.

Throwing in the towel after wetting people’s appetite can’t be a good strategy.

‘Cause sometimes you feel tired,
Feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength
And just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up
And not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.

So yeah, I’m still working on this short story series tentatively called “Pantheon Pandemonium.” One is finished, another is close enough, and two others are well advanced. Two more should come.

I’ll post them here… soon? When it’s done. No comment. Go away.

But come back!

My guess? The author wanted a book that looked like the others on the shelf. Maybe the publisher agreed “Can’t put out a 150-page book,” he might have said. I’m not going to name the book or the author, because the truth is, I have absolutely no idea if this is how it went down in this particular case, but I can definitely see this happening all over.

The thing is, now that we have eBooks and the Net, nobody cares how big your book is.

That’s shelf space thinking.
That’s physical world thinking.
That’s old thinking.

If you have something to say, say it in the best possible medium. If your message is short enough, it’s a blog post. If it’s really long, then it’s a book. But if your message can come across 100 pages, then price it right and make it an 100-page eBook, not a 50%-filler, 200-pages book.

1. Writing is 10% writing, 90% re-writing: Cowering in horror at your first draft is perfectly natural (because let’s face it, it sucks), but it’s a reaction that needs to be fought off (with violence if need be). This is why you need to force yourself to write. Hell, finishing that first draft is, in itself, a challenge. Duct-tapping yourself to your desk might be a lousy solution, but hey, if it’s the only one…

2. Clearing your head in between rewrites: It’s good to stop thinking entirely about a story while it matures. And the best way to get your mind off of a story for a week or so? Working on another story. Juggling with several stories works, but it means organizing your schedule meticulously (and sticking to it). More dedication.

3. Letting go: Any work of art is a tug-of-war between perfecting the work, and moving on to bigger and better. When you have an infinite supply of ideas, the temptation is to botch up the current project to jump to the newer, sexier idea. Which gets you zero results. The other extreme is to keep polishing your turd to make it shine just a liiiiittle bit further. Which doesn’t get you anywhere, either. Depending on who you are and what type of project you’re working on, you always run the risk to wander in either of those directions.

The curse of writing? It’s never over. There are plenty of collaborative medium where the work gets pulled and stretched in all directions until it pops out at the other end of the process (movies, videogames, etc). But if you’re medium of choice is the written word? Forget it. Anything you might think of changing is just 2 clicks away, so why not indulge yourself? Yeah, well, don’t. In the words of the great Tyler Durden: LET! GO!

What’s interesting is, I knew all of this before I started. But it just so happens to be (much) easier said than done. This all requires a dedication and an organization I didn’t quite grasp. Well, now that I do, onto the next one!

After a month across the US to visit some friends (and attend to the Narrative Summit at the Austin GDC), I settled in San Diego for 2 months for 2 reasons: 1) It’s an easy living, so I wouldn’t have to worry about anything besides writing, and 2) I didn’t know anyone there, so I wouldn’t have to wish for anything besides writing.

I had stellar expectations in terms of output, but I have to admit that I don’t think I’ll reach my objectives. I think it’s okay, though, as I have learned much from my first formal attempt at writing.

Is your 99% of crap the same as my 99% of crap? Of course not. So it’s more than likely that most of your 99% is somebody else’s 1%. Dismissing theirs means that anyone could dismiss yours, too. And then we’re back to having a few channels of average content that everyone can vaguely relate to.

The reason why there are “universal” superstars and trends in the first place (which most people consider to be the default state) is only a consequence of our former inability to distribute enough content to please everyone. The fact that 99% of the stuff out there is of no interest to you simply means that we’re finally catching up in terms of output: there’s now something for everyone to be passionate about, not just distractedly interested in.

We’re headed toward a sub-culture/niche society, and that means we’re about so see a whole lot of things we don’t agree with around us. Better get used to it.