When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared at me, incredulous, and said, "You mean they forget?"
Most of the games we hear about are from Asia or North America, but what about those developers in Middle East or South America? What about those studios in countries we rarely hear about unless there’s a civil war, a revolution, or some inhuman act of violence?
I recently talked with developers from Syria, Lebanon, El Salvador, and Egypt to find out what it’s like to create games when everything seems to be going to hell around them, and how that’s affected the kind of experiences they want to share with others. Read the piece here.
(The story isn’t Nintendo-related at all, but I wanted to highlight it here because I never get to write video-game related articles about real-world conflicts — our Aghanistan arcade piece being an exception — and I was very proud to have the opportunity to share these rarely heard developers’ perspectives.)
They’ll impatiently emerge with startling thunder claps and, although exhilarating, evaporate an instant later.
But then, once in a lucky moon, there’s that rare, quiet breed that creep up behind you, hiding in your shadow with decades worth of rumbling crescendo before you realize what that sound is and you finally go “Aha! That’s where you’ve been hiding!”