Keeping with the tradition of highly frequent blog updates, here’s another highly frequent blog update! I’m heading to San Francisco tomorrow for the illustrious Game Developers Conference, a show that brings together loads of game-industry folks and those who would someday very much like to be game-industry folks for a few days of panels, lectures, workshops, drinking and drinking. It’s going to be great to catch up with some of the journalistic types I haven’t seen in a long time.

This year’s a bit different than in the past: I’m not actually being paid to go there! Instead, I’m heading down solely to fulfill my own selfish desires: yell at people in the halls to tell them how awesome Empire Avenue is; throw some free-game codes for GOG.com around like they’re going out of style (which they’re not); go hang out at the Paradox suite to mooch whatever freebies I can; and to try and drum up some more business for Evolve PR. That last one’s kind of an interesting one.

I have to admit that I’ve been ridiculously (perhaps even ridonkulously) busy lately. The prospect of bringing on even more business kind of makes me cry. But I do have a big, evil, master plan: I’m also going to spend my time trying to find someone to help out. That’s right — Evolve is expanding. I’ve got a few folks in mind, but really, if you happen to read this, are a highly experienced PR/marketing rep in the games industry, and will be in San Francisco this week, shoot me an email or tackle me on the street. Alternatively, if you’re a PR Director, VP of Marketing or whatever else, be sure to wear your best shoulder pads, because there’s a good chance I’ll knock you over and throw a business card in your face. It may not be the most effective bizdev tactic, but I’m not about to actually… you know… set up meetings, print out all sorts of fancy brochures, perfect a sales pitch and try to woo you with my eloquence. That shit’s so 1996.

I hope to actually do some blog updates from SF, as I should have plenty of time on my hands…. again, my highly effective business-development practices don’t take a lot of time… but if I don’t, try not to miss me too much.

Ah, what a great vacation that was. So relaxing. I can still hear the sounds of the waves crashing on the white, sandy beach, tropical birds singing their alluring songs in the lush forest behind me. I really meant to update the blog from my cabana, but the resort was having problems with their wireless intern– ah, who am I kidding? The muses just weren’t watching my back. I try to keep updates here interesting, and have to wait for inspiration instead of just picking a random topic out of a hat.

So I was listening to the always-entertaining Mobcast last week, and the guys got to talking about “staying on message” and I went through a series of emotions — first, excitement about the onslaught of inspiration. Then I grew very, very angry, remembering meetings about messaging and training game developers how to stay on message for hours and hours before trade shows and media tours. Then I laughed because my dog was trying to hump my other dog. Then I grew sleepy. And so the weekend passed, and I’m finally getting around to writing this post.

I don’t remember which of the handsome Mobcasters said it, but he cited an example of a PR rep being visibly upset during an interview in which some sports guy or developer just wouldn’t use the exact phrasing the PR team had decided on prior to the press event. Whether you see it or not, this happens all the time — PR reps around the world are probably about to blow a gasket at this very moment because their finely crafted corporate messages are being shredded by staff who — how dare they — just don’t get how important it is to executives.

Allow me to explain briefly for those unfamiliar with the concept of messaging: when a company is getting ready for any sort of press engagement — a product launch, trade show, media tour, press conference, investors meeting, etc. — the executives and the PR team — or the PR team alone — will sit down to come up with “key messages,” which will then be used to draft a guideline for responses to queries. These usually use very specific wording about a product’s features and why they’re important, the company’s stance on a controversial issue, corporate plans or any number of other topics. Straying from the exact wording often means not sticking to the message and is frowned upon.

Establishing key messages is an important part of any PR plan, and while it might seem like fiendish megacorporation territory, sticking to those key messages in most cases is also very important. Most importantly for those outside of the organization, it allows the product/company to maintain a consistent brand, so that consumers aren’t confused. I’ll invent a conveniently relevant scenario: imagine a movie studio promoting it’s latest film based on a Stephen King novel. In one interview the producer says the movie will be a suspenseful thriller. At a simultaneous press junket across the country an actor calls it a bone-chilling horror flick. If those people had both stuck to the message, the consumer who’s seen both interviews wouldn’t be confused. That’s a very simplified example, but I think you get the point.

When someone doesn’t stick to the message and an unapproved and often somewhat incorrect statement hits the enthusiast news scene, the PR team has to scramble to resolve the confusion. Maybe that person talked about a feature that hadn’t yet been announced — the always-awesome unintentional leak — and the execs need to start getting involved. Particularly in a publicly-traded company, the ramifications of someone straying from established messaging can be rather significant.

I’ve eschewed the virtues of messaging enough; it’s not all Skittles at the end of the tasty rainbow (what?). Most “corporate” companies — you know the ones, most commonly associated with fearlessly arrogant fancy-pants executives and utter inaccessibility — take “sticking to the message” to extremes. I’ve gone through email interviews written by game developers, for example, into which I’ve been urged by execs to insert more key messages to ensure the company’s brand is sufficiently represented. Whether we actually answered the question or not was, ultimately, irrelevant, as long as most of our company’s core philosophies, competencies and product features were presented at every single opportunity.

I think that if you have a good relationship with a journalist, you should feel comfortable straying from the company line once in a while, though (almost) never on major company issues that could cause harm. If those off-the-record comments make it to print, you’re screwed. In a trusting relationship, though, the journalist will appreciate the difference between something that is fair to print — a more subjective version of the message or a freely shared inside scoop — and a bit of knowledge that could cost someone their job.

Messaging won’t go away. I’m sorry, journalists, but if you’re in an interview with one of my clients, I hope they’re sticking to the message. They can have opinions, you guys can talk all day long about some unrelated topic… but as soon as you start asking questions about business practices, why our product is better than the competition or whatever, I want them to say what they’re supposed to say. If they stray from messaging and it’s wrong, I’ll speak up right there — I may ask you not to print something because it’s a feature we haven’t talked about. If you still print it, you’re a jerk. But then I have to deal with that. And I’ll probably be upset because some guy just couldn’t stick to the message.

I’m hoping to extend my streak of success with awesome PC-game developers — having thoroughly loved working with CD Projekt RED (The Witcher) and Stardock (Sins of a Solar Empire, Galactic Civilizations II) — as I announce the addition of Paradox Interactive to the Evolve family of clients. Join me in welcoming these wonderful Swedes to our intentionally small roster!

This project will once again allow me to flex my community-outreach muscle (eww, gross), as it’s no standard “here, promote this full-priced boxed game” deal — I’m working on two community-driven projects aimed squarely at the company’s devoted fanbase of strategy gamers. For the Glory and Arsenal of Democracy are uber-mods for Europa Universalis II (yes, II, not III) and Hearts of Iron II, respectively, that Paradox is going to publish through their GamersGate service. I love to see devs and publishers supporting their communities like this, and I hope that I can help the games succeed.

It’s also a fun opportunity to work alongside some other PR folk at TriplePoint, as well as Simon Callaghan, with whom I worked on Neverwinter Nights way back in the day. Anyway, keep an eye on this site and on games sites everywhere for more info! And, of course, if you’re a journalist interested in talking to the devs or getting more info, just let me know.

In a sure sign that this is not just a blog on which I post insightful commentary on the ins and outs of public relations and marketing, I’m actually writing something about a client! Beware, for this can only end badly — shilling kicks all kinds of ass.

This week we’re celebrating the one-year anniversary of GOG.com‘s launch. A little later today or tomorrow I think I’ll put together a post about the first year — it’s definitely been a roller-coaster ride, as the cliché goes, with a fair share of struggles and successes on the PR and marketing fronts. But that’s not the point of this post!

This one is just to talk about the wicked bargains we have on the site this week. Okay, so we have the Buy One, Get One Free promo on the Interplay catalogue. Fallout 1, 2 and Tactics, Freespace 1 and 2 (pretty much the best space sim without the Star Wars license), MDK 1 and 2 (look for my first credit — a huge contribution I made to that game, of course… not!), Shattered Steel (another great BioWare game), Kingpin, Hostile Waters (awesome) and more for $5.99 each, then you get a free one. Pretty good.

In the past few weeks we’ve been trying out a Hidden Gem of the Week promo, which basically spotlights one game that people may have overlooked — something really good, unique or otherwise interesting — and doing a little write-up and a 10%-off discount for the week. For the editorial bits, we brought some great writers on board – Pete Davison and David Craddock – who should certainly be in consideration for any sort of freelance writing gigs you people have! The past few weeks have featured Descent 1 & 2 (the two are bundled as one in the Interplay promo) and Shogo, an early Monolith creation… and this week it’s all about Rise of the Triad – particularly timely, given the recent indication of a franchise reboot.

As if compelled by the mythical Dealosaurus, we also just released Might and Magic 6 Limited Edition, which includes six games (Might and Magic 1 through 6) for $9.99. I haven’t played through most of the games in that package, and will do so at my earliest convenience… I get it for free, though, muahaha.

“Fortunately, iTunes allows you to see other reviews posted by the same reviewer. So, we clicked on the reviewer “Vegas Bound” (iTunes link) and started to look at his reviews. He reviewed 7 applications, and gave each one of them 5 stars. Each review was short and sweet, and extremely positive. These reviews represented 6 different developers. A quick Google search revealed an infuriating truth: every single one of these developers was a client of one PR firm: Reverb Communications.”

The evidence looks pretty damning, but ultimately Reverb denies any wrongdoing in a response that states its ” interns and employees write their reviews based on their own game play experience, after having purchased the game by themselves, a practice not uncommon by anyone selling games or apps and hardly unethical.” This is where things get a bit fuzzy, of course. Have I given games I’ve worked on 10-out-of-10 reviews on sites where I had the ability? Yeah, it happens. But hey, guys, I also review other games and give them high scores if they’re deserving. I’ve given games I worked on mediocre reviews if I didn’t like them (well… nothing lower than an 8, of course, or I’d give them no review at all ). So maybe these interns just need to wisen up a bit and start reviewing other stuff. Only kidding. Of course that wouldn’t get to the root of the problem and would probably just make it a little bit worse.

MobileCrunch point out an excerpt from a pitch doc provided by a developer, alleged to be from Reverb, in which it’s stated that it “…employs a small team of interns who are focused on managing online message boards, writing influential game reviews, and keeping a gauge on the online communities.” Seems that their interns may also be going around to message boards and hyping their clients’ products. To me, that’s just as upsetting — at least if they’re doing it under some pseudonym and trying avoid being outed as PR reps.

I was in a situation a few years ago when I was working for an agency on the NVIDIA community account, as we were accused of essentially shilling, paying shills or planting shills for the video-card manufacturer. I don’t know where the NDAs and such stop, so go ahead and read the statement we (I) sent to Shacknews back in the day. I still stand by it and am sure that we weren’t acting unethically. You’ll have to trust me on that, I guess, but even so, it was already getting too close to OMG VIRAL MARKETER territory for my liking at the time. Now, though, I see that our practices of just working really, really closely with the community — talking and interacting with them on a very personal level (IM, phone and whatnot), hoping that they’ll appreciate our clients and us even more — is what we do on a wider scale now thanks to Twitter, Facebook, etc.

After all, the fans are out there. They like reviewing games. Games they like will probably earn at least a 4 rating, unless the player is holding onto his stars as if they were a rare commodity; so why even bother putting your own reviews up? For one game quoted in the MobileCrunch article, HydroTilt XL, there were over 300 5-star reviews (of 900-something total) — clearly any cover shilling tactics need not be employed here. Ah yes, the quality factor. Well, I think that any sensible person in this industry realizes that, especially these days, if you offer a quality product, people will buy it. With the rise of social networking, we have a huge connected audience that wants to share its love of games or music or movies or plywood manufacturers. Give them something they want to talk about.

I should finish off by saying that we really don’t know if Reverb has done anything wrong. It may just be unfortunate levels of zeal on the behalf of its interns, who really did love the game they were working on — and as it may have been their first experience with the iPhone App Store, their first review inevitably raising questions about the motivations. I do hope it’s not true — being accused of being greasy when you think you’re being clean sucks, and the people I do know at Reverb are good, honest people.

Just like any other day for a gaming journalist on staff at a major publication, I’d imagine. Situations like this make me appreciate reviewers so much more (oh, I loved you lots before… good save?) — it makes me happy that as a consumer, I get to choose which games I play — as I’m sure they have to slog through four or five over-hyped blockbusters for one great game to cross their desks. I can get caught up in hype just like anyone else, though, and reviewers — those with integrity, at least — help me decide which games are worth spending money on.

“Shortly after the review was published, I got called into my editor’s office. Turns out the PR rep hadn’t even bothered to call me to find out what was up with the score we gave her game. She went directly to the head of the publication, insisting that I clearly didn’t play the game (I did, rather more than I’d have liked to), like the genre (actually it’s one of my favorites), had something against the platform (what?), and more.”

The previously quoted journalist isn’t alone, of course, as there have been high-profile cases of situations similar to this one — the famous Gerstmanngate saga saw Eidos seemingly force out a prominent journalist at GameSpot over a ho-hum review of a generally-perceived-as-ho-hum game, Sony made a boo-boo by blacklisting Kotaku because it posted about Home before its official announcement without Sony’s approval, and while unproven (the game looks excellent) Eidos has found itself in hot water again with allegations of trading an exclusive review for a high review score. All of those cases, of course, ended up with bad PR for the company doing the strong-arming, but whatever, let’s hope they’ve learned from their mistakes. One of the primary jobs of a PR rep is to ensure that his or her client is portrayed in the media frequently and in a positive light. It’s natural for us to want to have some impact on the tone of coverage, but where does the influence stop?

Don’t get me wrong: we have to assert influence in the hopes of garnering positive coverage. That’s PR’s job. An anonymous account manager at a gaming PR agency explains it as such: “As an agency games publicist, it’s my responsibility to identify and communicate those elements of my client’s product that are going to get people excited… Big budget blockbuster games, however, are a different animal. When piles of advertising and marketing dollars are involved, the line tends to blur.” This certainly seemed to be the case in the Gerstmann-Eidos confrontation — Eidos was spending money at GameSpot, didn’t like a review and threatened to pull ads if the review wasn’t dealt with. In that situation, Eidos ultimately… uhh… won? with Gerstmann’s firing from the popular site (again, never mind the bad PR). It’s obviously a frightening suppression of editorial freedom when the ad money dictates coverage, tone and someone’s career path.

What about the situations like those of our journalist? Or selling review scores for exclusivity? Situations in which PR feels that they can dictate the tone of coverage or barter for a glowing review are just as scary. One would assume that journalists — whether editor-in-chief or intern — would have the integrity to deny such advances, but certainly when there’s a big-budget game or a megapublisher involved, the journalist has to consider the future — what if I don’t buy into this? Could this publisher get pissed off and refuse to work with me in the future? Are they going to pull ad money so I’ll get fired by some suit whom I’ve met once and who has no regular input into editorial coverage? As we all know, it doesn’t always work out well for the publisher — a lot of reporters and outlets aren’t willing to play ball, and the ensuing exposure will likely make the company regret its actions. But let me ask this — would publishers still be engaging in these strong-arm tactics if they didn’t work? Is there a time and a place to sit down at your desk, call up a journalist (or his editor) and yell for a few minutes?

Sean Ridgeley, Content Editor at Neoseeker.com, notes that, “the writer maintaining his voice is absolutely integral to journalism, particularly with it being such a competitive field. But there are occasions where we can be out of line, and it is here the rep should step in — if a superior has not, is unaware, or feels differently — and kindly work with the writer to achieve a more constructive tone and write-up, as flagrancy really doesn’t get anyone anywhere.” Of course there are a lot of different ways to go about achieving that more constructive tone, and the extent of the PR rep’s reaction is likely aligned with his passion for the project — or his boss’s passion for kicking his ass for a negative review. I’ve read a lot of mediocre reviews of projects I was working on and thought, “man, this writer is clearly didn’t play the game, doesn’t like the genre or has something against the platform! How dare she give it a 7! Everyone else is giving it 9s!” Do I just pick up the phone and go berserk on the journalist, though? Do I call her editor? Nah. But I will pick through that review and let her know about specific things she got wrong, lines that make it clear she has no idea what a strategy game is and question whether someone who previously claimed a dislike of PC games should really be reviewing the game.

I’ve had reviews removed from sites for factual errors, and I’ve had outlets print retractions or adjustments because a reviewer hadn’t spent adequate time with a game to learn all of its features. After all, as PR reps we have to ensure that journalists give our games a fair shake. Our PR rep says, “I worked on a PC title called Desperate Housewives: The Game, which at its heart was a really well-designed, Sims-like game with engaging story-driven gameplay. We were targeting a more mature female demographic, highlighting features such as story, casual gameplay elements, and ease of play. Without someone to champion the development team’s gameplay and feature set decisions, would a game like Desperate Housewives stand a chance of getting a fair review among those who typically write reviews for young men? Would it have even gotten reviewed at all?”

That’s where PR’s real role lies, as Ridgeley explains: “My ideal PR rep is one who acts purely as a mediator between publisher, developer and the journalist; their job should not be to “manage review scores,” but to assist in seeing the most informed content possible published, regardless of whether or not the journalist agrees with everything they’ve been provided with. This is not a negative thing; it’s best to include as many views as possible in any piece of journalism, I believe, so as to include as many possible readers in the discussion, directly or indirectly. And like the rep, this is the role of the journalist, likewise: to strive for the most informed and honest work he can.”

Our journalist could have had to write some sort of retraction in the next issue. He could have been fired. Thankfully, he works for people with integrity. “To my editor’s credit, he laid out what he’d been told, listened to my refutation of the bullshit and my points in support of my negative review, and said he’d take care of it. As pissed off as I was at the PR rep – being told that you are a lazy liar who sucks at your job is never terribly pleasant – I felt vindicated by my editor’s response.” It doesn’t always work out in the PR rep’s favor, even if the complaining doesn’t make front-page news.

I’ve also been urged strongly to bitch at some journalist or another for a review I couldn’t really disagree with. In those situations, I’m the one who has to show integrity — I can argue to my client or boss (I’ve had both yell at me about reviews) about the facts, explaining how they’re being just a bit too blinded by their investment in the game to realize that some people do have opinions that differ from their own.

For all of this to work, the respect has to flow both ways. Publishers and PR reps should never try to put unjust pressure on journalists. Meanwhile, journalists should strive to be fair in their coverage of games. However, in the end, we have to go back to the way the hype machine works in this industry — publishers control the games and the assets, and as long as outlets rely on access to those assets, coverage will be bartered and will ultimately favor those with the most with which to barter.

Left, Dragon Age package. Right, Guild Wars 2 logo. Everywhere: Firey blood dragons.

I have to say I like the Guild Wars 2 dragon better — the styling is solid, and it actually looks like a 2. Dragon Age obviously had the head start, though. I’m sure none of this was intentional, of course. As a marketer, you want to ensure that you can present a strong brand — a logo or general style that persists in all of your marketing materials — that is immediately identifiable to your fans and potential fans while standing out from the competition. Are Dragon Age and Guild Wars 2 direct competitors? Probably not — they offer different gameplay experiences, and Guild Wars 2 isn’t coming out for a while (Dragon Age, presumably, will be out in December… ?). I’d still be a bit iffy about how similar the imagery is.

We recently (not so recently) went back and changed the Witcher logo at CD Projekt RED for the currently-on-hold The Witcher: Rise of the White Wolf. We felt that the original logo was a bit “me-too” in the fantasy realm, and that it could use a facelift to stand out and really present the console version as a striking new product.

Left, before. Right, after awesomeification.

Does branding impact you at all? Does it bother you when two brands use similar imagery? Am I just a filthy marketing snob for even noticing?

Urban Dictionary lists the following:
bullshot: n. A screenshot fabricated by a company to misrepresent the graphics of a game; a combination of the words bullshit and screenshot.

Seems Penny Arcade coined the phrase (shit, seriously, 2005? Seems like just yesterday), but the actual practice of “creating” screenshots has been around for ages; it’s become more prevalent in recent years, as the visual quality of games has increased alongside consumer expectations. If you want to see some examples and some more insight into bullshots, you can check out Blake Snow’s piece at GamePro.com. Forget that clown, though (*blowing a kiss to Blake*) — I’m the star here! Let’s take a quick look at bullshots, shall we? More after the jump.

What happens?
Throughout a game’s PR and marketing campaign, the publisher or developer needs to create promotional screenshots to show off a game’s visuals. It’s important to note that the final polishing of a game — those extra steps that take the game to final quality — often isn’t done until the last few months of the project. That will vary, of course, from one game to another, as some teams may aim to be “art complete” much earlier in development. Anyway, these shots will usually be created with whatever game content is available — so if a game is being announced two years before its release date, there’s a good chance that the aforementioned game content is not final, only partially available or completely non-existent.

Trust me, from the PR and marketing rep standpoint — unless you’re a soulless bastard — this whole process is a bit unnerving. It makes me feel more than a little slimy… like I just ate twelve Big Macs and pigged out on Doritos while playing Fallout 3 for ten hours straight (not necessarily professing my love for any of those three things… they’re just examples of the greasiness, people). I much prefer the idea of actually capturing images from a final product and presenting them as-is. I remember working on Neverwinter Nights, creating my own levels in the toolset and snapping off hundreds (thousands?) of screenshots throughout the promo campaign. We’d pick the best ones, they’d get routed through approvals, and everything was great — we’d just toss out the shots with screwy shadows, weird textures, characters stuck in the walls, etc.

Things just aren’t that easy anymore. Advancing technology dictates that games take more manpower to develop and that dev teams usually have to work with tighter timelines. You’re constantly tweaking artwork, textures, lighting, etc. so taking a perfect screenshot a year before release is pretty much a pipe dream. So again, you take what you can get — maybe you only have a few characters finished, while the levels aren’t close to finished yet. Maybe you’re lucky enough to have a good vertical-slice demo (essentially a small “slice” of the game representing its final game quality). In that very awesome case, you have at least a small area — with just a couple of characters/enemies and a few rooms in the level — to work with, merrily snapping screenshots and having to make minimal adjustments. But in other cases, you do the best you can. If lighting isn’t final, an artist has to go in and paint the lighting and shadows. If visual effects like explosions aren’t implemented yet, you have an artist add the explosions.

Why does it happen?
It seems like the most nefarious consumer-deception tactic around: Megapublisher A comes out and announces Big Shooter X from Big Studio Y, says it will be the best-looking game around in 18 months and releases “screenshots” to back it up… but they won’t show off a gameplay video for another six months. They won’t demo the game to press for another year. The screenshots are a vision of what they hope to deliver, and are meant to excite the masses.

Thus we come to the reason for bullshots’ existence: customer, shareholder and retailer) expectations. The very nature of video game PR and marketing is somewhat fucked. There are few other industries that push product visibility for such a long period of time; there’s really very little chance that a game announced two years before release will be unveiled with assets that weren’t somehow custom-produced for that particular opportunity. That being said, fans expect screenshots to be awesome… and I’m not trying to point fingers and call gamers jerks, because I do it, too. If I see a screenshot, I expect it to look cool, or else I’ll probably lose interest in that game. So let’s say a publisher takes the honest route and releases a screenshot of an in-development game without doctoring it. Imagine the outcry. NeoGAF would explode with cries of, “hahah, what a piece of shit!” Other hardcore fans would laugh at the lack of anti-aliasing. Yet others would ridicule the terrible facial expressions. Or the missing texture on the floor. You get the picture.

Companies want to create hype for their products, and unless they come out of the gate with awesome assets, they’re going to be fighting a long, uphill battle to achieve popularity or to get enough page views at GameSpot (or wherever) to warrant continued coverage. Ultimately, fans don’t seem to care if shots have been doctored. There may be some outcry early on in the publicity campaign (Killzone 2, anyone?), but in the end, all will be forgotten and a game will be left to cement its own legacy.

Anything we can do about it?
Yeah, not sure. I’d love to get to the point where we’re not announcing games too far in advance. Case in point: I was part of the effort to announce Dragon Age at E3 back in 2004. Sure, there was a big media blackout for a while, but that game has been in the public eye for five years already, and fans have expected a constant flow of assets — screenshots, videos, previews, etc. How could BioWare’s product five years ago possibly have represented the final quality of the game? Apart from a few rare cases, do you know of any movies that have been talked about for five years? How about two years? A year? We’re somewhat idiotic in this industry, though, having established long ago that we absolutely can’t have successful products without building up months or years of hype.

Could we get by with the Hollywood model? Could we feasibly just give fans minor details — talk about the people involved in the project, share the overall vision, toss out some concept art — and save the major hype for the two or three months before release? Could we skip the crazy spending in the year leading up to release, removing presence at trade shows, cutting out the trailer budget during that time, and saving it all for a big publicity and ad push at release? I think so, but it’s going to take one ambitious and daring genius to change the way the entire gaming publicity machine has worked for the past twenty years. Think about it: we’d be able to say goodbye to release delays; while you’d obviously need to provide a general timeframe for shareholders, it’d be much easier to say, “here’s the first trailer, and the game is coming out in three months!” than predicting a specific release date in advance. All assets would be final — sure, you might get ten trailers in that month, but as a fan you’d have a guarantee that all videos and screenshots are representative of the final game. For publishers, you could condense all of that spending into one huge push — how much TV time could you buy for the cost of an E3 booth?

It seems like it would work out well for everyone. But are things going to change anytime soon? Probably not. So deal with it, and enjoy all the bullshots you’ll be fed this year! They’re sure to be tasty.

Thoughts? Got a major beef with bullshots? Don’t care either way?

I think the video offers a fascinating look at changes happening in the games industry due to the spread of gaming among the masses. A lot of interesting viewpoints are expressed by guys like Chris Taylor and Dave Perry and my old boss, Dr. Ray Muzyka, and really, I’m immensely excited about the future of games. I have so many ideas floating around in my head that could feasibly see the light of day given the many options available to prospective developers today. And I’m not very smart… just imagine what actual smart people could do with these options!

I understand the appeal of social gaming. I’ve played Farmville. Yeah, what? Wanna fight about it? So I’m a virtual farmer. I, like millions of others, have timed my day around my crops — “I’ll be drinking by 9, so I won’t be able to effectively tend to my raspberries.” It’s free, too, so it’s got that going for it.

I love small-scale games and indie projects. Tale of Tales’ horror game (?) The Path was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had on my PC in years. I’ve been playing Shadow Complex, OMFG. I have no beef with that stuff.

BUT! What bothers me is that a lot of people seem to be writing core games off entirely — like they’re some unwanted and shunned older child, just not as cute as the fresh newborn social baby. It’s like the PC Games Are RUINED thing all over again… finally we can take the spotlight off of of that argument. What this whole shift shows us isn’t that one medium is going to succeed over another, but that there are a lot of people who want to play games and they want to play them everywhere. As long as there’s an audience, companies will be there to deliver a product that fills the demand. In the case of big blockbuster games, there’s a huge audience out there, and it’s going to take a looooooong time (long) for those gamers’ tastes to shift so dramatically as to kill that market.

With the potential core gamer audience growing, pricing becomes an influential element in the gamer’s product of choice. Can $60 games succeed in a world where gamers can get a longer-lasting game for free online? At $30 or even $20 I know that I’d buy a lot more games just to try them out. I’d love to see someone try that. But shouldn’t we be looking at this all as a huge opportunity instead of the second coming of Pauly Shore? Armageddon is not here yet, folks.

It seems reasonable to believe that core gaming on the PC might actually thrive in this new market — social gaming acting as a gateway to more in-depth experiences, all just a click or two away from Mafia Wars. Mac gaming should be a big open door, with the strong brands and gaming appeal established by the iPhone and iPod. As an Xbox 360 connects to Facebook, it becomes a conduit between two completely viable gaming platforms.

With the creativity that exists in the world and the increasing power of tools made available to creators, gaming only stands to benefit from its status as the new hot-shot in the entertainment industry. We can make broad, sweeping epics and we can do minimalist projects that challenge the definition of the word “game.” Let’s ditch the end-of-the-world crap and embrace the fact that the future is full of possibility.

Get outta here, you greasy game journalist!

Frustration is a natural byproduct of a modern life — for a lot of us human existence in the 21st century is just an endless, stressful race to the top, and we’re bound to slip over the edge into complete batshit insanity once in a while. With so much going on, we’d go nuts even if we didn’t interact with the other lovely humans inhabiting the planet, but when someone else’s negligence, failure or general idiocy is the cause of your batshit insanity… well… things tend to get a bit heated. One of the first lessons we learn in business, though, is to not let one’s emotions take control; frustrated as you may be, you should be taking time to think about the long-term implications of any outburst. “Will this come back to bite me in the ass?” should be the first question out of your mouth… and if you’re asking yourself that question, you should probably sit on the email, phone call or bar-of-soap-in-a-tube-sock beatings.

So allow me to digress for a moment. Video game PR is a rare breed — up there with the film industry — in that PR reps largely control the media landscape. That’s no secret, of course; most reviews are based on game copies provided by publishers, preview opportunities are usually a valuable commodity exchanged for some sort of premium placement and are often subject to embargoes that help coverage fall in line with marketing efforts, and countless sites just re-post press releases verbatim. This is a gross generalization, I realize, as there are a lot of great sites and journalists out there that go the extra mile to generate original content that wasn’t pushed by a PR rep — coincidentally a lot of these guys came from a traditional journalism background. But largely it’s the publishers that determine where and when their games get coverage, and in almost all cases the coverage is closely controlled to be positive.

The seedy underbelly of the games industry exposes itself. When a journalist goes rebels and does something as recklessly disrespectful and anti-gaming as write a negative article about a game or publisher, a lot of PR reps and executives forget that golden rule and do something so unimaginably dumb in times of duress that I just can’t wrap my batshit insane head around it: they put that journalist on their blacklist. This list may not actually exist as such — I’d love to meet a PR rep ballsy enough to have a Games_PR_Blacklist.xls file on his or her desktop — but at the very least it’s a big mental note that said journalist is to never, ever (EVER) be treated like a real human being so long as he lives. Forget about review copies, forget about invites to the E3 demo, forget about the lavish press tour and accompanying open bar.

While not always the case, most blacklisting is decreed from high up in the corporate structure, not from the PR team. After all, it’s the PR team’s job to get as much coverage as possible — big, positive coverage, of course — while ensuring that journalists love them and their company/client. When your intimidating, power-tripping, fancy-car-driving boss comes running into your office yelling, “How the fuck did you let this happen?! You’ll pay for this!” after a not-so-flattering review, it might seem like an affront to common sense to look him in the eye and say, “you know, I worked really hard on this campaign, really respect my relationship with this journalist and feel he makes some good points about our shitty game, so please stay out of my business.” That’s really what the reaction should be, though.

It shouldn’t be a yes-sir-I-shall-do-my-job kind of thing — you, the PR rep, want this journalist to cover your games in the future, right? What if you leave the company? What if your boss gets fired and new management has a good relationship with that writer? Forever you’ll be the jackass PR rep that had to repeatedly respond to the journalist with something like, “we don’t have any review code available” or “your invite must have been lost in the mail.” A PR professional’s most valuable asset is the contact list (a nice rack doesn’t hurt, as evidenced by yours truly)… or rather the relationships with the people on that contact list, and that fact should always be in the back of your mind. Always.

Sure, it’d be nice if we could live in China — they have a national journalist blacklist… we wouldn’t have to do the dirty work ourselves, and the journalists could be mad at someone else when they’re denied a coverage opportunity. But if there’s anything to be learned from China (or Iran or any other communications-controlling nation) it’s that if there’s a message that needs to get out there, it’ll get out. Social media — rise of Facebook and Twitter, yadda yadda — has connected people in such a way that any sort of negative story will spread just as quickly or faster than a positive one. Blacklist a journalist — or better yet, an entire website (I’d link to examples, but I do have to make a living by pitching publishers) — and word is likely to get out. A writer will put up a blog post, he’ll link it on Twitter and within a day you’re on the front page at Kotaku and Joystiq and Rock, Paper, Shotgun and GameSetWatch and Fidgit and EVERYWHERE.

So blacklisting was a good idea, right? The PR rep sacrifices a relationship with a journalist; the PR rep hates his boss a bit more; the publisher no longer gets coverage on a major website; and potentially, if that journalist is just batshit insane enough, the blacklisting actually becomes a negative PR story of its own, far worse than a 6.5 out of 10 review of a game that was supposed to get 8s.

I’ve had to blacklist people in an agency capacity — it’s been a couple of years, but it’s happened. I fought it, trying valiantly to convey the notion that the writer really made valid points (sometimes you guys really don’t help with this, by the way — play the damn game!). Conveniently, it’s usually been at the request/demand of a single client, so I’ve been able to maintain my relationships with other products… it’s a nice little loophole that’s kept me from looking like an asshole and gaining more enemies than I really need. I’m sure I’ll have to refuse review copies at some point in the future because my client/employer doesn’t like a journalist or website… but damn, I’m scared of things coming back to bite me in the ass. Wired’s Chris Anderson famously hit back at inept PR reps by creating a blacklist of his own, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we’re just building up slowly to some sort of armageddon for games-industry PR pros, when journalists just band together and say, “we’re running the show now” and create some sprawling online PR-rep blacklist. They’ll block our email addresses, screen our calls and throw out our party invites. They’ll dictate the coverage, they’ll write negative previews before a game ships, they won’t post shitty screenshots and lame hype trailers. And the PR professionals of the world will sit there, scratching our heads, wondering how journalists could have become so frustrated with us.