While surfing on the internet tubes, I found probably the greatest thing mankind has to offer a budding character creator: a podcast.

And this isn't any old "I just need attention" type of podcast, no, this is the real deal created by Tim Schafer at Game Developers Conference in 2004.



What's that you say? You're not aware of this Tim Schafer, and you are not creating some sort of game? Fear not. Tim was the character designer and eventually creator of some of the most orginal videogame IPs in recent memery. From Monkey Island, to Full Throttle, and Grim Fandango, to most recently Psychonauts. These games are still hailed to today for their amazingly compelling characters and creative scenarios.

He'll cover a wide range of tips and cover methods that were every bit as magnetic as his creations. Go, click the subscribe link and listen up good HERE.

About this time last year a few intrepid friends and I created the start-up Facetags.com. The entire point was to create a community based online drawing application around a product.

Oddly enough we missed the mark by a long-shot. Barely making our pushed back November launch date, we had already committed to a $5,000 ad in the Winter 2005 1up Holiday Buyers' Guide. We scrambled and had two sleepless weeks of cobbling together a functioning site and an entire library of creative Xbox 360 adhesive skins. We were the first to the market and over the months it didn't even seem to matter that our biggest differentiator was still being heavily worked on. We were quickly featured in Game Informer, interviewed by Gamertag Radio, and had the buzz of thousands of blogs.

The Facetags tale continues, but I'll save the guts for another day. The point of this post is that I learned so much about starting and managing a business that it terrifies me. As I embark on a new self-funded start-up venture I'm trying to implement one of the best thing that I've learned from Facetags.

That would be: A good product/service sells. A great product/service tells compelling stories that the user wants to participate in.

 

In many ways it is like asking someone to play a game. Users will ask themselves a few questions before they start like:

1. Does this look fun?
2. Who am I playing with?
3. Why do I care?
4. What is my immediate result?
5. And most important, what is my long-term end goal?

(Don't think we ask these questions with games. Look at Xbox achievements and think again. Or for a physical sample look at the death of bored games.)

 
In good product sites we see that questions 1-4 are answered. The answers are mediocre, but passable. The interesting part is that the quality of the product here (and the mood of the person using it) is all that matters in defining the result. A sample would be:
 
1. Does this look fun?
Sure.

2. Who am I playing with?
People who like this product.          

3. Why do I care?
Looks neat/affordable/unique/useful.          

4. What is my immediate result?
I get the cool thing I wanted.

5. And most important, what is my long-term end reward?
Um….Nothing! (The product is long forgotten or discarded)


 
Facetags did shockingly well even though we had an average product. Why?   Because we stumbled upon stories. The first four answers are nearly the same, but the big rewarding changes are seen in number 5. Here is one sample of how our conversation went:
 
1. Does this look fun?
Yeah, once they get the application launched. Neat stuff now.

2. Who am I playing with?
People who like this product.          

3. Why do I care?
Looks neat/affordable/unique/useful.          

4. What is my immediate result?
I get the cool thing I wanted

5. And most important, what is my long-term end reward?
To get my design added to their selection/ To share with the community/ To enjoy the unique designs/ To help out the founding gamers.
 
 

Wow. Instead of no answer for number 5 we got a list. Sure most of the items they listed were vaporware, but it proves that you can build a story with only an impression of things to come.
 

Compare this to a service and you begin to see how stories are even much more important. Let's analyze YouTube for a minute:
 
1. Does this look fun?
Hell. Yes.

2. Who am I playing with?
Tons of people of varied interest.

3. Why do I care?
Free, fast, easy to use, and catering to my interests.

4. What is my immediate result?
Whatever I want to watch.

5. And most important, what is my long-term end reward?
To get my design added to their selection/ To make friends and be part of the community/ To get my video to earn a high rank/To get up on the front page
 


While the answers to 1-4 are more enthusiastic because it is a unique idea, the clincher is that number 5 is filled. Not only is it filled, there is a hierarchy to the game. There are multiple stories in play each with their own end result.
 


In YouTube's case:
Rank 1: If I participate I'm in the community.
Rank 2: If I make a good video I'm an elite in the community.
Rank 3: If I do great I will be famous within the community.
 


Digg has a strong story as well, but it is completely different. The community members aren't as highlighted and touted as is the community as whole. Instead of Joe Blow being recognized for his great find like on YouTube, the content and culture is celebrated. Digg-ing an item means less that you love Joe, and much more that you support what Digg stands for. Their hierarchy would look like:
 
Digg:
Rank 1: I joined! I'm part of the fold
Rank 2: I'm noticing trends in activity and users. I'm a pretty dedicated user.
Rank 3: I know these folks and respond with vitrol if a story goes against the grain of our culture. I know that my vote counts and will spread the word.

 And if we count lurkers as members of the community still actively gaining something (which they do) then is less a hierarchy than a ecosystem! Each member is actively benefiting an environment in unique and unseen ways. I'm doing my best to keep this idea in mind for my newest project, Sketchd.com.

Comics can be tough, because they ask you to fill immense amounts of time face-to-face with a blank sheet of paper. This is nothing new to most forms of art though. Novelists need to think up compelling characters and illustrate their journeys. Artists need to find an intimate place of visual ground to call their own . All forms of art ask their user to tackle some sort of inner demons. But independent comic artists have to both write, draw, publish, and promote. And our reward is to know that unlike the former samples we most likely won't receive any recognition.

As a kid, when I began to realize comics were what I would devote my life to, this was a fun motivator. We were the underdogs. We we unique. We were our own private island of history and if you didn't have the secret knock, you didn't get in. But sometime last year this changed for me. I'd realized I hadn't read anything in some time that got me excited about the art form. Worse yet, the mainstream comic community could care less about anything that isn't the one genre that keeps the machine standing. What is the point of creating when there is no audience?

I'd never had to deal with that question before. Why create anything then?

And the journey took me back to the beginning. Why did I compulsively draw for twenty years despite my terrible skills? What at all did I find joyous about this process which seemed so filled with negativity and obligation? What stories were worth telling? I spent months away from creating trying to remember. (Creepy how right Scott McCloud is on this. Don't know what I'm referencing? Go read this.)

I found the answer in hard cover form at my local library. It was a book I'd read as a kid and enjoyed a great deal, but when finding it again I was stunned by its' genius. Every panel made me smile. Even more made me laugh out loud, and I don't laugh out loud. The book is the ever famous Sam & Max: Freelance Police.



It reminded me that comics should be as fun to make as to read and when they aren't you should stop. And the story could end there...

What a wonderful after-school special about returning to our youth, yes? Well it gets more complicated. You see I really loved Sam & Max. It was my new inspiration. I needed it as a reference, and more importantly I wanted it to be safe.

So, off to Ebay and Amazon I went - only to find Sam & Max was extremely rare. The rarest of the rare. $125- $1,000+ rare. I loved it but that is a good chunk of publishing a book. I needed another way.

I woke up a few times actually fearing for the book's safety. I kept imaging some sort of cruel Library purge where all books were a dollar. The ratty tabletops being perused by someone who wouldn't appreciate the ART that this book held. Or worse yet, that they'd trash it. (While I admit that I'm exceptionally lame for these thoughts they are based in fact. I have a 1940 copy of "Les Enfants Terrible" which I saved from being salvaged last year. The year before it was a copy of "It's a good life if you don't weaken" and two copies of "ACME Novelty Library". Comics are the first things to be jetisoned, followed by very old good books.)

Something needed to be done. I wore jeans, tried to act "cool" and borrowed the book from the library. Then I...ahem..."somehow lost the bag". Yes, I know, I'm terrible because I've robbed others of this dried wood pulp joy. My conscience said it was okay because they had another copy.

I've heard rumors of a reprint. If this is true I''d be happy to return it to it's rightful owner. For the time being I'm just trying to be a good guardian and student.



People always ask with a grin "How's the book coming?" like if somehow I stopped sleeping it might happen faster or better. The best part of making the book is the process, and how it changes you. I've been writing and drawing 3 new stories off and on for over the past 4 years. I love comics and all, but it is beginning to feel like a miracle they're still being worked on some sort everyday.

I have Sam & Max here by my desk so that sooner than later I can hand them a copy and they can see for themselves.


For those of you that have enjoyed Sam & Max, you know my point of view. Let's play Fizzball sometime.

Hey Ladies & Gents - welcome to RefreshingContent.com the 2.0 edition!

If you've been paying attention over the past 2 weeks you'd have noticed the good old site has been lovingly ripped down and replaced with this shiny new batch of trendy. Each year come spring time the birds and bees awaken to do something (of which I'm still trying to extract) and I rise to redesign this flaming pile once again. This marks the 5th redesign in 4 years. Yep, I have a problem. Meanwhile, the world goes near nearly retarded in their concept of what good design is. Lions with lambs folks, I kid you not.





While I initially was smitten with the concept of using WordPress, after a brief but infuriating lack of control, I switched to a new web design program by the name of RapidWeaver. It gives me the beauty of iTunes style program, while tenderly stroking my inner nerd with custom themes and CSS goodness.

Let's take a look at some of the past designs and see how we're doing in this parade of mediocrity:

November 2003:

My first real website. While this is a fine hour for shitty textures and retro art, it is also the first in of many giant images I would place on the intro page of RefreshingContent. The only reasoning here is that maybe primitive man's only defense was building such Photoshop walls? The world may never know.

Of special note is the early cover of Nothing Left to Lose. It was affectionally referred to as the clown painting until the final color adjustments about 5 hours before I handed over the complete files to the printer.

Interior 2003: I'm pretty sure I was blind in 2003.

Redesign 2004:

I like this one. I took my wierdness and channeled it into something palpable. The right was animated gifs of the characters moving and looked pretty swift. The right nav bar expanded with rollover menus that flowed towards the main image area. But the interior was where I tried to be more "creative". Creativity and user friend-liness never go hand-in-hand.

Interior 2004: All pages were divided into two main halves, with 4 navigation buttons on the right side. The thought here was that by forcing the navigation to similar content I could push people to similar content I thought they'd enjoy. Silly puppy!

Clearly my split personality's are showing up even in navigation. The medication was quickly reinstated.

Fall 2004:

The graphic novel "Nothing Left to Lose" was finally being released October 2004 at SPXPO in Maryland, and I needed to add in PayPal functionality. Why not redesign?!

Notice how I begin to accept that while I'd love to make giant buttons and corral the user through the habitrails of my site, I soon gave up and started to lower the hierarchy on my navigation. The interiors used Dreamweaver templates for the first time and allowed much freer navigation from any page. That said, the moving from one second level immediately to another second level page type was nearly impossible. As I addressed these problems the world took suit with shocking immediacy. (Or the successful companies had been along this hierarchy movement since 1999. Whatever.)

No interiors to show on this one kids. Sorry. But Santa is real, so don't fret.

Redesign Summer 2005:

The new site was great. We were picking up in pages, and traffic, but it was very green. Very especially green. Plus, I was in desperate need of updating the site to show more of the design skills I'd honed on the job. Take interesting photos + plus rainbow palette + a heavy dash of time = A pretentious comic art site that came off as more humorous than interesting. Good times.

Interior 2005: The template wins. I give into the homogeny of the computer. Almost all pages are immediately accessible. Many community options are added to no avail.

The 2006 Why's & How's:

Why the new look? The truth is the pages that accounted for 90% of my traffic needed an update maybe once a month. This meant a good drop in interest and the lack of motivation for me to build out any extra areas.

The design was heavily inspired by the very non-web looking site for the Delicious Monster. I enjoyed their approach but felt it my take could brighten things up. The hodgepodge images are an attempt to show what this site will cover. As much as I'd love to release a comic or two a day I can't. Much of this will be ramblings about things I find exciting, amusing, or entertaining.

This release leads in with the blog style page to show interesting designs, comics, and many other items in a way that is easiest for the reader to acknowledge. And when it best for you, it encourages me to keep sharing.

As much as I love to design and tweak, I can't hand code. My pages were excessively uncompliant and I had no real desire to learn why. As I'd experienced first-hand, these items change too quickly to waste your time with. Thus, a fully compliant xhtml and css editor was brought in to do the dirty work.

The 2.0 push is bringing some communities together much more than ever before. Not only does each page support some sort of community based link, but you can always click any of the links at the bottom of this page to subscribe to the digital tomfoolery.

And now a promise: I, STATE MY NAME, WILL NOT REDESIGN FOR AT LEAST A YEAR. You can sleep with ease folks - RefreshingContent lives again.

Heh, heh, seriously - thanks so much for stopping by. We are still getting all of the old functionality back up, and tweaking things on an hourly basis, so please stay tuned!