A lot of the time, people ask me, “Why are you a game designer?” They might as well ask, “Why do you breathe?”
“To stay alive, I suppose.”
Since I was a kid, taking things apart and trying to create something new and different from the pieces always caught my attention. It wasn't about taking a clock apart and putting it back together. It was about taking it apart and making something new out of it. I didn’t know what. I just wanted to see what I could come up with. It drove my father mad. He’d leave the house with strict orders not to touch stuff, so I would find old clocks and things in the neighborhood trash.
I remember loving puzzles; they helped in feeding my appetite. Construction toys and erector sets could fuel my imagination for hours. I’d rather spend time playing in my room with such kits than going to the park and playing with other kids. It was my alone time. As mentioned in an earlier blog, my mother gamed with me in my youth and was a strong influence. My parents would chase me out of the apartment when they wanted alone time. Like, I knew what the hell their “alone time” meant.
That sense of construction led me to train in the field of architecture. A prerequisite to architectural engineering was sculpting, another form of construction. I took to it like a fish to water. Wood, stone, and clay would have an unexpected pull on me. With poetry, music, and songwriting as strong companions, the creative juices just kicked in. I remember designing a “Chess Plus” game during the Bobby Fischer era.
I would design and build Aurora racing car tracks when we finally moved into our own house in the Bronx. My buddies would come up to my four-lane set. After marriage and kids, developing games for the kids came naturally. I made racing games and games to teach them the basics of math. Whatever they seem to need something, ideas would pop into my head to make their learning process enjoyable.
Designing games like Attactics and Gin-Go over forty-five years ago became a means to share good times with house guests. It was more like a hobby when considering my music, and songwriting held a significant role in my life. Whenever someone wanted a game, I would hand-craft it for them. I kept a file cabinet of game board ideas but did not take them seriously.
Then, two strokes fourteen years ago changed my outlook. With recovery, I took stock of options open to me. I realized I’d been writing most of my life and designing games people enjoyed playing. It was time to put those clock pieces together and finally make something out of them (9 books and 7 games to date). It became a beautiful realization that all the talents I’d been honing throughout my life came together. They helped make ideas and imagination come together in the physical world. Ideas are as constant as breathing, and many must be turned away or left in notebooks for another time. So, why a game designer? A good question living can only answer.
So, still living, still designing, and like breathing, it’s necessary.
Comments