Featured in February’s Critical Distance Blogs of the Round Table.
This is a work-in-progress extract from my crowd-funded book Dreamcast Worlds. I’ve selected a section that explores photorealism, deliberately moving away from technologically determinist arguments about how better console technology “allows” games to become “more expressive” (yes Sony I’m glaring daggers at you after that pseudo-history you just had to shoehorn into the PS4 presentation) and instead looking at accuracy as a design question: what does it mean for a game to be like a photograph?
Accuracy
The high level of historical details in Shenmue’s recreation of 1986 Yokosuka is as much about setting an emotional tone as is it about establishing accuracy. For one thing, they are not consistently accurate. The Sega Saturn in Ryo’s home is anachronistic - set in 1986, but Saturn released in 1990s. Nevertheless, a slavish devotion to accuracy informed work on all areas of the game, possibly in spite of calls for restraint from higher-ups at Sega.
I feel obliged to point out that, by popular request, I’ve set up a way for you to pre-order a copy of Dreamcast Worlds if you missed the Indiegogo funding deadline. Just go to this page.
Last week I sent Dreamcast Worlds supporters the first extract from the work-in-progress, and asked what they thought about it. It was the first step in an experiment in ‘crowd-editing’, though in reality, the ‘crowd’ part isn’t really appropriate - it’s more that a small number of backers are generous enough with their time to discuss the book with me and share their opinions. But the principle is that as a self-publishing, crowd-funded writer, I have a direct connection with my audience - and as such, I don’t have to make guesses about what they want from a book. I can just ask them.
I published this on Gamesbrief this week and thought it would be nice to keep it here too as a postmortem of the Indiegogo campaign.
Not long ago, I was talking about crowd-funding with someone over coffee. ‘I remember in the wake of the Doublefine campaign,’ they said, ‘Tim Schafer started publishing all these articles about how to run a successful Kickstarter. I thought, are you kidding me? You were successful because you were famous. Strategy had nothing to do with it. Crowd-funding isn’t going to work if you’re not a tried and tested name.’
It’s true that an unknown budding creative with a dream and a concept drawing is unlikely to raise millions of dollars on Kickstarter. However, I just recently raised $5000 on Indiegogo for a book on the history of the Dreamcast, and when I started the campaign I had just 150 Twitter followers (@rupazero, in case you were wondering). It was an amazing experience - I learned a lot about community, marketing and metrics, and came out the other side with the means and motivation to get my book finished.
This feels strange. I’ve got a bunch of client work out of the way for the day, and now it’s time for me to settle down and start actually working for myself. Well, actually I’m working for the 110 people who have funded Dreamcast Worlds and are expecting some good results from me. That’s even stranger.
[caption id=“attachment_905” align=“aligncenter” width=“740”] CC Paul de los Reyes[/caption]
I’m nervous, overwhelmed, excited, and did I mention nervous?
So, what comes next? I’m partly writing this to answer a question other people are asking me, and partly writing it to make sense of it myself.
As part of further research for my possible book Dreamcast Worlds (fund it here or it can’t happen), I recently interviewed Tom Szirtes about his time at Sega Europe. He was working in product R&D during the Dreamcast era, and paints an image of a tech playground where innovation was king and anything was possible. Here are some extracts:
“My job was initially to support developers who were writing games for Sega platforms, Sega Saturn and then later Dreamcast, but I was also developing all sorts of really odd bits. I worked on developing the network - you know, Dreamcast was connected to the network so you could find other games to play and compare high scores, and I wrote that bit. I did the Dream On demo disc, so I put all the game demos in one thing and packaged it onto Dreamcast Magazine. I worked on some games, mostly for the Saturn - I did some work on Sonic 3D - and then the last thing I did was I worked on a title called Planet Ring, which used voice over IP.
This is one of two talk proposals I’m sending for GDC. It kind of relies on Dreamcast Worlds actually getting funded, a big problem that you can help me to solve here.
The late 1990s is still an under-studied part of video game history - for many, it still seems like it wasn’t so long ago. But as we reach the end of another console generation, now is a good time to look back to the short and fondly remembered lifetime of the Dreamcast.
It was a time when software and console developers were finally, excitedly pushing frontiers into open-world, online, fully three-dimensional game worlds. Sandboxes, life simulators, and MMOs were turning the Gibsonian dream of cyberspace into a reality.
At the same time, many game developers were using their craft to look back at an already rich cultural history. They preserved in nostalgic virtual worlds such as the 1980s Yokosuka of Shenmue lived memories of places that had been transformed by economic and technological change.
This talk is based on my crowd-funded book on the history of the Dreamcast and research at the Victoria and Albert Museum. I look at three game worlds from the inside-out, to reveal their authentic histories. Taking a design historical approach, I occupy game spaces, analyse artefacts, and draw connections to the people and technologies that created, distributed and consumed them.
I’ve launched an indiegogo campaign to fund a book expanding on the 30,000-word thesis I wrote for my Master’s at the Royal College of Art.
I intend to write a historical book about Dreamcast games, with a unique approach - instead of following the life stories of heroic game designers, or recounting how and why the Dreamcast failed commercially as a games console, in this book I tell the story from right inside the games themselves. And I plan to do it with your help.