Archives for 2012.06.03

If you’re reading this, there are two possibilities:

1. You’ll remember some piece of what you’ve read.
2. You’ll be part of the majority who roll their eyes and keep moving.

I believe you’re one of the former – and it’s for you that I’m writing this:

Masters are not masters because they can do flashy things. Masters are masters because they have the freedom  and bandwidth to do flashy things.  This freedom is born of one thing:

Completely and utterly ingraining the basics of their medium into their habits.

As a child, I was constantly attracted to the flashy, the unique and exotic. This is the natural way our bodies respond to the environment around it. I soon learned that flashy tricks didn’t lead to good craftsmanship any more than food dye makes a cake delicious.

To truly understand how to make a great game, you must first understand its mechanics. To understand great mechanics, you must first understand the basic ones.

This is the philosophy from which everything I can hope to teach is born.

When you stop and think about a person who has mastered their craft, we nerds often think of ancient swordsmen, incredible artists and powerful orators. The next step is often to describe a masterpiece created by  their handiwork.

Bruno Walpoth is a great example of a traditional master. His incredibly lifelike figures are the work of hundreds of hours of toiling away at the these masterpieces.

When you stop and look at this single work, you can instantly see the masterful craftsmanship, attention to detail and eye for lighting that went into the creation and presentation of his beautiful figures.

While anyone can agree that his work is incredible, it is nearly impossible for you or I to look at this and know what it takes to become a master sculptor of wood. An experienced wood worker might have a little bit more luck – they could describe his techniques, the choice of wood or varnish used to coat it.

It is ultimately this gap in knowledge, tools and experience that causes us to separate ourselves from those we call masters.  And it is this separation that prevents us from reaching out and trying to close that gap.

So let me show you someone else I view as a prime example of a master:

“Wait, are you serious, Alex? A street performer?”

Yes. If you wish to understand what is that defines a master, you need look no further. This man has taken the simplest of side jobs and turned it into a thing of beauty.  The great thing about this man, is that there is no doubt in the minds of anyone that they can make cotton candy.

Cotton candy is pretty easy. Reach into a machine, pour in the sugar, swirl a paper baton and viola – a delicious dental problem!

So what is it that separates how we’d make cotton candy from him? Let’s point out the obvious first.

• He’s dancing
• He can make cotton candy in multiple shapes
• He can weave the candy a long distance away from the basin
• He freely gives away bits of the candy

There’s two ways people naturally relate to someone you perceive as a hero: worship and degradation. Neither of these is useful. Worship leads to awe and paralysis. Degradation leads to malice and blindness.

I remember the first time I experienced both in the same day.

First a bit of background – while in middle school, I secretly wished to be a comic book artist. I would draw a frames on the back of every test my teachers handed back to me. In college, my friends finally persuaded me to go with them to a convention in Minnesota.

I was elated to learn that Pete Abrams of Sluggy Freelance, a whimsical, sci-fi web comic, would be there. I’d started reading Sluggy with my friend and secret-penpal/crush, Amy Clark a few summers back. His simple art style and witty writing had given me hope that I could do something half as cool someday.

Volunteering behind the scenes at the convention, I readily chatted, enjoyed drinks and talked game theory for hours in the break room with some of the guests. In fact, I didn’t even know who many of them were until years later. You may recognize them by the names Fred Gallagher, Steve Jackson and Neil Gaiman.

Then I ran into Pete randomly during the convention. Bam. I awkwardly stumbled and stammered through a conversation and he politely invited me to join him after the con for board games and hanging out by the pool.  I was elated and excitedly asked where we’d meet up.  He said the volunteer break room, around 9.

Right on the dot, I was waiting outside at 9. Waiting… waiting…. around 10 one of the other volunteers, a kindly older woman came by inviting people inside to play a card game. Somehow, I won and was awarded with a fuzzy plastic flower. With a jolt, I realized I was supposed to be waiting outside and hurried back out the door.  Finally, around 11, Pete showed up.

He gave me a curt nod and started walking, so I followed pace. When we finally reached the elevator, he turned to me and said… “Uh… are you stalking me?”

“What?” I replied in shock.

“You know, stalking. Following me around.”

Frantically, I replied, “Oh, I thought we were going to play board games with your friends. Remember, you invited me this morning? What makes you think I’m stalking you.”

“Well, not many people follow me around carrying flowers.”

I looked down at the plastic, red flower in my hand. “Oh uh, ha, you know, that’s funny, because you see there was this lady and… well, but you can have it if you want it! It’s kinda bendy… uhmm…”

With a confused look on his face, Pete replied, “I think I’m going to just go to bed.”

“Oh. Right. Sure! Sorry, about that.”  I left the elevator in incredible embarrassment.

After he was gone, I immediately flipped. Who the hell was he to forget me like that? Man, you know what – he’s terrible anyways. Who cares what a balding old guy like that thinks!

When I finally got back to Rochester, I asked myself… what happened? With incredible insight, my friend Luke Morgan of DubThis said, “You defined yourself as different than him. In that moment, you lost sight of who they really are and stopped being who really were.”

Ever since that day, I set aside that kind of hero worship and tried to see people for who they are, not for what they have or what they could do for me. And that has made all of the difference.