From The Desk of Nerd³ - August 2024 Edition

Dearest Patreons,

I spent just over 80 hours last week, almost 12 hours a day, putting the finishing touches to the typeset version of The Paradox Paradox, resulting in 235 changes to the text, roughly one every seven hundred words. These ranged from mistakes to the layout (a speech mark separated from its intended line by a space) to small plot holes (REDACTED still had a REDACTED in a single line, a relic from a previous draft). Editing at this level is like doing a Where’s Wally puzzle, but it’s across five hundred pages, you need to memorise all of them, and you don’t know what it is you’re looking for.

This got me thinking. Why is it that the end of every long-term creative project such a magnet for overwork? Hell, for the most part Paradox is a one-man show. I wrote the whole thing, checked any external edits, took my time with it, and despite the lack of outside influences, I’m still crunching more than a starving man who’s just managed to get into a pallet of Crunchies. It’s almost been five years, why is all the work happening now?

I think two things working together are responsible for this. First, the creative mindset. If you’re a creative person, (a real one, not those “ideas men” who want to be worshipped for having thoughts but not knowing how to act on them, AKA every contestant on The Apprentice ever) then you’ll know that the hardest person to please with your work is yourself. As we all know, the best projects are the ones you can walk away from while only still wanting to change about half of it.

The second thing is our perception of time. Say you have something you don’t want to do in a few months. Likely, not much of a bother. Just one month? Eh. Two weeks? Still not that bad. One week? Not bothered. Five days? Ages away. Three days? AHHHHH, THAT’S BASICALLY TOMORROW WHICH IS BASICALLY RIGHT NOW. PANIC!

Deadlines are like that. When you first spot a deadline, it’s like an enemy ship on the horizon. A problem, but you’ve got ages to prepare. However, your monkey brain has made a mistake. It’s not when it reaches you that’s the problem. It’s when it gets in firing range. Suddenly, what seemed forever away is now at your door, and nothing you can do can slow it. Deploy the cannons, poke the rigging, crunch you fools!

As a deadline approaches, you suddenly realise that your idealised version of the project is no longer the target. Time is, and it’s relentless. If only you had more… and suddenly you’re working an 80 hour work week. Deadlines are the enemy, yet, without them, most creative people would never get anything done. I know I wouldn’t.

Then, there’s the special case in all of this. The games industry, where a third ingredient is mixed in. Bastards in suits willing to exploit this trait in their staff. The faster a game is made, the more games can be made, the more money there is for… whatever rich people do with all that wealth. (Buying houses they don’t live in or something.) Brilliantly for them, the type of person who wants to make games also wants to make good video games, and is willing to put in some extra time. Tighten the deadline, watch the coders and artist sleep at their desks, likely unpaid, and fill your pockets with more grubby cash. Double points if you can fester a ‘culture of crunch’ in the office, pressuring employees even further. It’s a win-win, sort of, not really.

For me personally, I’m okay with crunching at the end of my projects. It’s my choice to make and, as exhausting as it is, I see the benefits. Also, as I already sleep in the room next to my desk, so it’s a little easier on the work/life balance.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is to support video game unions, fuck capitalism, and remember that the people who make games are cool and hardworking, even if the ideas men at the top are about as useful to the human race as Jupiter crashing into the planet.

Happy August,

Don’t work yourself too hard

Daniel

xx

PS. I wrote this in one go and can’t be bothered to check for spelling and punctuation errors because… well, see above.