Sunday, June 16, 2013
Father's day
To my kids - all three - I love you all. Eli, I miss you. Nemo, I'm looking forward to meeting you. Gabe, my little man, I will dance with you whenever you ask ;)
Friday, June 7, 2013
Agro forestry
Gabe, my firstborn, is nearly 3 and a half years old.
He started playing Minecraft (Pocket Edition) about two months ago.
He is now competent enough at interacting with the game that he can place mud and stone (with guidance, in a local multiplayer game) such that he can create a level ground. He knows how to mine (using a pickaxe). He knows how to shovel dirt (with a shovel). He knows how to chop down trees (utilising an axe).
He knows how to construct these tools. He's beginning to understand the resource chain. He is starting to apply his limited arithmetic knowledge to resource management. He's recently learned how to plant saplings and how to smelt ores.
He knows what iron and coal look like in the ground.
In short, he's becoming a competent player of what some would say is the best existing sandbox simulation of forestry, animal husbandry and crafted tool use.
I have no idea whether this is normal for a kid of his age, but it totally floors me that he's capable of doing things like making his own set of shears and hunting down a sheep to fleece. Today, he demanded that I help him find some iron ore, which he then took, smelted into ingots and made himself a pair of boots and a shiny helmet. He was very proud of his new helmet, and I was very proud of him.
He's still scared silly of zombies and creepers, and while he brandishes a sword his KDR is pretty abysmal. Still, he's trying.
When I was a child (and a young adult), a game like Minecraft would have been absolutely mindblowing. Sure, I played plenty of gather-buy-trade-craft games in my youth, but I'm pretty sure at 3 years old I was just about coming to terms with Legos, let alone figuring out sustainable resource production techniques. He doesn't know it yet but he's learning some fundamental lessons about how the world works, and what's more he loves it. The first thing he says when I see him in the evening is "Daddy, can we play Minecraft now?"
One thing that really scares me (more than my child becoming a video game addict, natch) is the sheer velocity imposed by the game rules upon every interaction chain. Day and night cycles roll around every 15 minutes or so. Trees grow in under an hour. Sheep spawn as lambs and become full size within a few cycles. Pickaxes wear out with a few minutes of use. The real world has a much longer sustainability loop (and no respawns). I wonder if the expectation of quick gratification will have a tangible impact on his temperament and boredom threshold.
If you have kids, and they play games - what's your rule for imposing time constraints on play? Have you seen an impact on real world interactions, for better or worse? Do you believe, as I do, that there's value to be had in kids being exposed to these kind of interactions?
He started playing Minecraft (Pocket Edition) about two months ago.
He is now competent enough at interacting with the game that he can place mud and stone (with guidance, in a local multiplayer game) such that he can create a level ground. He knows how to mine (using a pickaxe). He knows how to shovel dirt (with a shovel). He knows how to chop down trees (utilising an axe).
He knows how to construct these tools. He's beginning to understand the resource chain. He is starting to apply his limited arithmetic knowledge to resource management. He's recently learned how to plant saplings and how to smelt ores.
He knows what iron and coal look like in the ground.
In short, he's becoming a competent player of what some would say is the best existing sandbox simulation of forestry, animal husbandry and crafted tool use.
I have no idea whether this is normal for a kid of his age, but it totally floors me that he's capable of doing things like making his own set of shears and hunting down a sheep to fleece. Today, he demanded that I help him find some iron ore, which he then took, smelted into ingots and made himself a pair of boots and a shiny helmet. He was very proud of his new helmet, and I was very proud of him.
He's still scared silly of zombies and creepers, and while he brandishes a sword his KDR is pretty abysmal. Still, he's trying.
When I was a child (and a young adult), a game like Minecraft would have been absolutely mindblowing. Sure, I played plenty of gather-buy-trade-craft games in my youth, but I'm pretty sure at 3 years old I was just about coming to terms with Legos, let alone figuring out sustainable resource production techniques. He doesn't know it yet but he's learning some fundamental lessons about how the world works, and what's more he loves it. The first thing he says when I see him in the evening is "Daddy, can we play Minecraft now?"
One thing that really scares me (more than my child becoming a video game addict, natch) is the sheer velocity imposed by the game rules upon every interaction chain. Day and night cycles roll around every 15 minutes or so. Trees grow in under an hour. Sheep spawn as lambs and become full size within a few cycles. Pickaxes wear out with a few minutes of use. The real world has a much longer sustainability loop (and no respawns). I wonder if the expectation of quick gratification will have a tangible impact on his temperament and boredom threshold.
If you have kids, and they play games - what's your rule for imposing time constraints on play? Have you seen an impact on real world interactions, for better or worse? Do you believe, as I do, that there's value to be had in kids being exposed to these kind of interactions?
Monday, May 27, 2013
Opportunity cost
Sup. I've not written anything here since last year. I intended to put up at least a post a week, but then Eli happened and our lives got flip turned upside down.
I'd love to say we're "getting over it" or "moving past it" or "getting back to normal". All of these are things that people have told me, in happy tones, have been evident in my demeanor in the last six months. Truth is, life ain't like that. We're carrying on with life, trying to make sure Gabe is happy and healthy. We've become experts at not talking about the most important thing in our life. On that note, this is the last I'll talk about it, at least for a while - evidence suggests no-one wants to hear a sad story.
I originally set up this blog with the intent of mixing my work and my personal life, which seems idiotic in retrospect, especially after setting up Boss Alien and trying to learn how to run a business - it's rare these two things mix. I've been wanting to put up some content for a while now, but it's been hard to write around what's been happening to us - think of this as a stake in the ground where I declare my commitment to putting on a textual mask and trying to ignore everything I can't talk about and describe things that I can.
So, what else is new? Weather's nice. We moved out of Brighton for some head space, and it's been revelatory, not just in helping us find ourselves but also in informing us of what we want out of life - where we want to be, where we want to live. I thought I'd miss Brighton more than I do. I thought I'd be more bothered by the commute, but some days I even enjoy it.
Deciding where to live isn't a trivial process. Though I've moved over 30 times in my life, moving house and contemplating buying a house are not one and the same. It's become obvious to us that making decisions that rely on unspoken assumptions on how your life will play out become much more complex when you make those assumptions explicit, open for question and debate. If this happens, are you sure you want to be living here? What about if that happens? When, not if?
We will hopefully have a new addition to our family in a couple of months. I'm trying to move from scared witless to excited, and as the day gets closer it's becoming more real to me. Fingers crossed we get to raise this one. I have a habit of keeping something wooden close at all times now, so I can touch it. I don't hold much truck with religion, but damned if I haven't become back yard superstitious when the chips are down.
I wanted at least some of the content of this blog to be relevant to my family in the later years, so here's a little gem just for you, my family - I love you with all my heart. Start with the important stuff, that's what I say.
I'd love to say we're "getting over it" or "moving past it" or "getting back to normal". All of these are things that people have told me, in happy tones, have been evident in my demeanor in the last six months. Truth is, life ain't like that. We're carrying on with life, trying to make sure Gabe is happy and healthy. We've become experts at not talking about the most important thing in our life. On that note, this is the last I'll talk about it, at least for a while - evidence suggests no-one wants to hear a sad story.
I originally set up this blog with the intent of mixing my work and my personal life, which seems idiotic in retrospect, especially after setting up Boss Alien and trying to learn how to run a business - it's rare these two things mix. I've been wanting to put up some content for a while now, but it's been hard to write around what's been happening to us - think of this as a stake in the ground where I declare my commitment to putting on a textual mask and trying to ignore everything I can't talk about and describe things that I can.
So, what else is new? Weather's nice. We moved out of Brighton for some head space, and it's been revelatory, not just in helping us find ourselves but also in informing us of what we want out of life - where we want to be, where we want to live. I thought I'd miss Brighton more than I do. I thought I'd be more bothered by the commute, but some days I even enjoy it.
Deciding where to live isn't a trivial process. Though I've moved over 30 times in my life, moving house and contemplating buying a house are not one and the same. It's become obvious to us that making decisions that rely on unspoken assumptions on how your life will play out become much more complex when you make those assumptions explicit, open for question and debate. If this happens, are you sure you want to be living here? What about if that happens? When, not if?
We will hopefully have a new addition to our family in a couple of months. I'm trying to move from scared witless to excited, and as the day gets closer it's becoming more real to me. Fingers crossed we get to raise this one. I have a habit of keeping something wooden close at all times now, so I can touch it. I don't hold much truck with religion, but damned if I haven't become back yard superstitious when the chips are down.
I wanted at least some of the content of this blog to be relevant to my family in the later years, so here's a little gem just for you, my family - I love you with all my heart. Start with the important stuff, that's what I say.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Okay
Three months ago today, we said goodbye to our boy Eli.
People ask me nearly every day - "Are you okay?"
No. I'm not okay.
I'm pretty far from okay.
Some days, enjoyable things happen. I keep trying to learn new things, as is my way. I keep trying to experience new things. I try and practice my skills and stay fit. I try and get a decent night's sleep. I try and turn up to work, and I try to make it all matter.
If my heart wasn't so broken, I think I'd probably be having a great time of things.
I wish I was someone who could find enough joy in my otherwise charmed life to make a bridge over this chasm, somehow walk to the other side.
Don't ask me if I'm okay. This isn't the answer you're looking for.
People ask me nearly every day - "Are you okay?"
No. I'm not okay.
I'm pretty far from okay.
Some days, enjoyable things happen. I keep trying to learn new things, as is my way. I keep trying to experience new things. I try and practice my skills and stay fit. I try and get a decent night's sleep. I try and turn up to work, and I try to make it all matter.
If my heart wasn't so broken, I think I'd probably be having a great time of things.
I wish I was someone who could find enough joy in my otherwise charmed life to make a bridge over this chasm, somehow walk to the other side.
Don't ask me if I'm okay. This isn't the answer you're looking for.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Elijah
This year should have been the best year of our lives. I have spent the year working at my new company, Boss Alien, creating a number one game for iPhone and iPad. I’ve had an incredible amount of fun, and we did a fantastic job - CSR Racing is currently the top grossing app on the UK App store, a month after we released. My wife became pregnant in October, and we have spent the year both preparing for a new addition to our family.
Elijah was born on Thursday, 19th of July. He died the next day.
This year is the worst year of my life. Nothing can capture in words just how devastating the last few weeks have been for myself and my wife.
We are lucky to have our boy, Gabriel, who has been a true shining light in our lives - without him I have no idea how we would cope. He is a distraction and a joy, and every day he fills our hearts with love and laughter.
He also reminds us, every day - every minute - of what we are missing, and what Elijah could and should have been to us.
Coming to terms with his loss is hard - the hardest thing I have ever had to do. At times it feels impossible. I will never be able to forget the events of the day he was born, and right now I can’t say that I will ever forgive some of the people involved in his birth and death for their complacency and lack of care and attention. He should be with us right now. There were many opportunities to change the course of the last couple of weeks of my wife’s pregnancy, and her labour, and ultimately his delivery. In due course, I will no doubt detail all the events, but I believe we had our boy stolen from us.
I’m furious. I’m burning inside. I have never been as angry as I am right now.
Could we have done anything differently? Of course we could. We could have done more research ourselves. We could have demanded an earlier caesarian section as soon as my wife began to show signs of high blood pressure (an indicator of pre-eclampsia). We could have done more research on the potential health effects of how she was feeling during the last two weeks of pregnancy. Knowing this, and knowing that we could have changed the outcome ourselves, makes me angry with myself. If I had just paid more attention to my wife instead of being so focused on making a stupid goddamned video game, maybe our boy would be alive. No - there’s no maybe here. He would be with us.
Truly though, I’m furious with the various doctors and midwives in whom we placed our trust and the life of our boy, and who have failed him and us. People who have a job to ensure that they support, care and advise mothers during their pregnancy, who failed to act on the signs of my wife’s blood pressure changes. Who failed to pay attention on the day, when we arrived at the hospital after her waters broke three weeks early. Who failed to pay attention to the bleeding during my wife’s labour. Who failed to properly monitor Eli for foetal distress.
When we arrived at the hospital, Elijah was alive - we will never know if he was truly well and healthy, but the only indicator we had, a heart trace about 30 minutes after we got there, showed that he was definitely alive.
The sequence of events leading to his death - leading to us withdrawing his life support - are something that I would not wish to happen to anyone. I can’t even contemplate writing them down again here. I have them detailed elsewhere, and when the time comes for investigations and questions, I’ve captured as much as I can before the memory becomes too hazy, but the crystal sharp moments - watching my wife bleed on the floor. When it became obvious that they couldn’t find a heartbeat. When he was born, breech, naturally, after us waiting three hours for a theatre to be available for surgery. When I watched the Trevor Mann staff desperately work on him for 15 minutes, throwing everything they could possibly do for him. Watching my poor boy on the ventilator with wires and tubes covering him. These moments will never leave me.
We spent a day hoping beyond hope that Eli would come through this trial. As the day progressed, it became clear that hope had gone. Despite everything they were doing, Eli wasn’t stabilising on life support, he had severe brain damage, bleeding on his lungs, heart failure. When he began going into multiple organ failure, we had to decide whether to keep trying or accept the unacceptable.
I can never forgive myself for deciding to turn off his life support.
I know it was the right thing to do, for all the right reasons, but this is a decision that no-one should ever have to make.
I know that we should not have had to make that decision. He should be alive, keeping us awake, demanding and crying and living.
I should be awake at 3am giving him a feed and changing nappies. Instead, I am awake at 3am trying to explain to myself why this void, this chasm in my heart, will never be filled with his life and his laughter and his presence.
Today is Elijah’s funeral. We had eight months to get to know him and to plan our lives with him. We had a day to see him and hold him. We have today to say goodbye. We have the rest of our lives to try and accept that he’s not here.
Elijah was born on Thursday, 19th of July. He died the next day.
This year is the worst year of my life. Nothing can capture in words just how devastating the last few weeks have been for myself and my wife.
We are lucky to have our boy, Gabriel, who has been a true shining light in our lives - without him I have no idea how we would cope. He is a distraction and a joy, and every day he fills our hearts with love and laughter.
He also reminds us, every day - every minute - of what we are missing, and what Elijah could and should have been to us.
Coming to terms with his loss is hard - the hardest thing I have ever had to do. At times it feels impossible. I will never be able to forget the events of the day he was born, and right now I can’t say that I will ever forgive some of the people involved in his birth and death for their complacency and lack of care and attention. He should be with us right now. There were many opportunities to change the course of the last couple of weeks of my wife’s pregnancy, and her labour, and ultimately his delivery. In due course, I will no doubt detail all the events, but I believe we had our boy stolen from us.
I’m furious. I’m burning inside. I have never been as angry as I am right now.
Could we have done anything differently? Of course we could. We could have done more research ourselves. We could have demanded an earlier caesarian section as soon as my wife began to show signs of high blood pressure (an indicator of pre-eclampsia). We could have done more research on the potential health effects of how she was feeling during the last two weeks of pregnancy. Knowing this, and knowing that we could have changed the outcome ourselves, makes me angry with myself. If I had just paid more attention to my wife instead of being so focused on making a stupid goddamned video game, maybe our boy would be alive. No - there’s no maybe here. He would be with us.
Truly though, I’m furious with the various doctors and midwives in whom we placed our trust and the life of our boy, and who have failed him and us. People who have a job to ensure that they support, care and advise mothers during their pregnancy, who failed to act on the signs of my wife’s blood pressure changes. Who failed to pay attention on the day, when we arrived at the hospital after her waters broke three weeks early. Who failed to pay attention to the bleeding during my wife’s labour. Who failed to properly monitor Eli for foetal distress.
When we arrived at the hospital, Elijah was alive - we will never know if he was truly well and healthy, but the only indicator we had, a heart trace about 30 minutes after we got there, showed that he was definitely alive.
The sequence of events leading to his death - leading to us withdrawing his life support - are something that I would not wish to happen to anyone. I can’t even contemplate writing them down again here. I have them detailed elsewhere, and when the time comes for investigations and questions, I’ve captured as much as I can before the memory becomes too hazy, but the crystal sharp moments - watching my wife bleed on the floor. When it became obvious that they couldn’t find a heartbeat. When he was born, breech, naturally, after us waiting three hours for a theatre to be available for surgery. When I watched the Trevor Mann staff desperately work on him for 15 minutes, throwing everything they could possibly do for him. Watching my poor boy on the ventilator with wires and tubes covering him. These moments will never leave me.
We spent a day hoping beyond hope that Eli would come through this trial. As the day progressed, it became clear that hope had gone. Despite everything they were doing, Eli wasn’t stabilising on life support, he had severe brain damage, bleeding on his lungs, heart failure. When he began going into multiple organ failure, we had to decide whether to keep trying or accept the unacceptable.
I can never forgive myself for deciding to turn off his life support.
I know it was the right thing to do, for all the right reasons, but this is a decision that no-one should ever have to make.
I know that we should not have had to make that decision. He should be alive, keeping us awake, demanding and crying and living.
I should be awake at 3am giving him a feed and changing nappies. Instead, I am awake at 3am trying to explain to myself why this void, this chasm in my heart, will never be filled with his life and his laughter and his presence.
Today is Elijah’s funeral. We had eight months to get to know him and to plan our lives with him. We had a day to see him and hold him. We have today to say goodbye. We have the rest of our lives to try and accept that he’s not here.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
CSR Racing is live!
After what has been one of the most crazy years of my life (and probably all the Alien's lives!) we have managed to get CSR Racing "shipped". No, not shipped ... "in a box". No, not that either ... hrm. Mastered? Gold disk?
None of these things apply, but we're still at (mumble) million players and rising after a week. The experience of making a mobile game has been bloody awesome fun. If you want more details, head over to the official Boss Alien website and get involved - we're hoping to put up some background stories and technical articles over the next couple of months, if we ever get a free moment.
In some ways, this is a huge anticlimax - we've been in "two weeks" mode for about six months now, so we mostly feel well past the point where this should have been out of our hands and into the hands of players. It's also a bit frustrating - there's hundreds of features and fixes big and small that we want to see in our game. Mental eh?
But the overriding feeling right now is - a mixture of incredible glee and relief.
We've just made our first game as a new studio, and we're number one in the US as we speak - we are beating Google Chrome in the free app charts for iPhone and iPad, and we're top of the grossing chart. I think that we've officially done as well as we could ever hope to do, in just over a year.
I keep saying we, because this has been a fantastic team effort - from everyone inside Boss Alien, to all the friends who helped us on the project (Sprung, Steve S, Anthony J, Rockett and Taz, ShortRound, Trailer Farm and everyone else who pitched in - see our Facebook page for links to their respective sites). Lastly, all the friends and families who have managed to keep us sane and fill us with love. We've not been working crazy hours too much (we don't do that shizzle, it's not the Boss Alien way) but it has been tricky to keep all the kids happy. Nicky, Sal and Emma - you girls are saints.
I'll be putting up more stuff in the near future, as we can a) talk about the game now and b) might have some actual, honest to god free time. That'll be nice ;)
None of these things apply, but we're still at (mumble) million players and rising after a week. The experience of making a mobile game has been bloody awesome fun. If you want more details, head over to the official Boss Alien website and get involved - we're hoping to put up some background stories and technical articles over the next couple of months, if we ever get a free moment.
In some ways, this is a huge anticlimax - we've been in "two weeks" mode for about six months now, so we mostly feel well past the point where this should have been out of our hands and into the hands of players. It's also a bit frustrating - there's hundreds of features and fixes big and small that we want to see in our game. Mental eh?
But the overriding feeling right now is - a mixture of incredible glee and relief.
We've just made our first game as a new studio, and we're number one in the US as we speak - we are beating Google Chrome in the free app charts for iPhone and iPad, and we're top of the grossing chart. I think that we've officially done as well as we could ever hope to do, in just over a year.
I keep saying we, because this has been a fantastic team effort - from everyone inside Boss Alien, to all the friends who helped us on the project (Sprung, Steve S, Anthony J, Rockett and Taz, ShortRound, Trailer Farm and everyone else who pitched in - see our Facebook page for links to their respective sites). Lastly, all the friends and families who have managed to keep us sane and fill us with love. We've not been working crazy hours too much (we don't do that shizzle, it's not the Boss Alien way) but it has been tricky to keep all the kids happy. Nicky, Sal and Emma - you girls are saints.
I'll be putting up more stuff in the near future, as we can a) talk about the game now and b) might have some actual, honest to god free time. That'll be nice ;)
It's a Gas
I'm hosting this guest post by Toby at the request of someone who shall remain nameless. This post IS NOT ENDORSED BY ANY COMPANY, IS A PERSONAL OPINION AND IS HUMOUR. now that we've got that out the way ...
We at Boss Alien have been excitedly watching CSR Racing's progress in the charts; and we're all pretty chuffed. From the small beginnings of the first line of code, to a veritable behemoth; we've released to a furore of acclaim.
Reading the App reviews, and various forum posts from around the world has been de rigueur for a few weeks, and believe me we are paying attention.
One of the more contentious issues has been the idea that you require Gas (Fuel) to race.
Believe it or not, the Gas (Fuel) mechanic arose not to enhance monetisation; but to protect users from unhealthily long play sessions. One of our testers, Jim, was brought to the brink of ruin after having played the game non-stop for 4 days. He was a mess.
At this point we realised we had a hit! Also, that we had a problem.
After much deliberation, we realised that we couldn't unleash something so dangerous into the wild. This isn't China. So, we developed a variety of ideas on how to solve the problem. One involved having a "Play Session" timer always on screen. Another, would go through your Facebook and Twitter feeds, keeping you up to date with the real world and showing pictures of your loved ones.
Neither truly dealt with the problem. Thus the solution was to limit the amount of time you could actually play in one session, hence: Gas.
We are all aware of how difficult it is to be released from the vice grips of compulsive, addictive and satisfying gameplay. So, we've come up with a list of things that you could do, whilst you wait for your next Pip of Gas to arrive.
Eat: The list of things you can prepare within 8 minutes isn't a lot, but Beans and Toast should contain enough sustenance to keep you going.
Sleep: Just a quick nap, you'll wake up when your fuel is back. You'll be fine. Your body needs it.
Go outside: It's at least mildly sunny here in Brighton right now. Go catch a few rays.
Talk to your family: Remember, they love you very much. Maybe they can play the game whilst you go and have a shower.
Write an article about Gas, and post it to a blog.
Errmm…..
Anyway. My 8 minutes is up, I've got to… you know….
We at Boss Alien have been excitedly watching CSR Racing's progress in the charts; and we're all pretty chuffed. From the small beginnings of the first line of code, to a veritable behemoth; we've released to a furore of acclaim.
Reading the App reviews, and various forum posts from around the world has been de rigueur for a few weeks, and believe me we are paying attention.
One of the more contentious issues has been the idea that you require Gas (Fuel) to race.
Believe it or not, the Gas (Fuel) mechanic arose not to enhance monetisation; but to protect users from unhealthily long play sessions. One of our testers, Jim, was brought to the brink of ruin after having played the game non-stop for 4 days. He was a mess.
At this point we realised we had a hit! Also, that we had a problem.
After much deliberation, we realised that we couldn't unleash something so dangerous into the wild. This isn't China. So, we developed a variety of ideas on how to solve the problem. One involved having a "Play Session" timer always on screen. Another, would go through your Facebook and Twitter feeds, keeping you up to date with the real world and showing pictures of your loved ones.
Neither truly dealt with the problem. Thus the solution was to limit the amount of time you could actually play in one session, hence: Gas.
We are all aware of how difficult it is to be released from the vice grips of compulsive, addictive and satisfying gameplay. So, we've come up with a list of things that you could do, whilst you wait for your next Pip of Gas to arrive.
Eat: The list of things you can prepare within 8 minutes isn't a lot, but Beans and Toast should contain enough sustenance to keep you going.
Sleep: Just a quick nap, you'll wake up when your fuel is back. You'll be fine. Your body needs it.
Go outside: It's at least mildly sunny here in Brighton right now. Go catch a few rays.
Talk to your family: Remember, they love you very much. Maybe they can play the game whilst you go and have a shower.
Write an article about Gas, and post it to a blog.
Errmm…..
Anyway. My 8 minutes is up, I've got to… you know….
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