Last week I posted my three-minute presentation about making a bit of a science out of karaoke song choice.
I had the privilege to present this to my group at Microsoft as part of a lightning-round presentation invitational for our team.
Check out the video below.
On April 30th, I attended the ZINO Society Entertainment & Lifestyle Investment Forum, a gathering of roughly a hundred entrepreneurs, investors, and experts all focused on entertainment and lifestyle startups in Seattle.
What I got the most value from – aside from meeting Tom Skerritt – was a fifteen-minute panel from industry experts on emerging gaming and Seattle startups. In attendance were representatives from u4ia, Z2Live, ArenaNet and Washington Interactive Network (WIN). It was a good heartbeat on the state of gaming startups in Seattle. Below, you can read the questions raised and the answers given by the panelists. These are fairly raw notes, I’ve summarized where needed. Read the rest of this entry »
As the daily view counts from my First-Person Shooter post tail off, I’m heartened by the amount of support I received from gamers and game makers for the post and the stance it represents. Just by raw volume the sentiment skews positive, but as you can imagine there are voices on the other side of the argument, too.
That’s why I’m thankful to have seen this fantastic advice today from Ann Friedman: The Disapproval Matrix.
In this great handwritten 2×2 you’ll see a number of archetypes you recognize: friends, critics, trolls, even your own internal voice that beats you up daily. A choice quote:
The general rule of thumb? When you receive negative feedback that falls into one of the top two quadrants—from experts or people who care about you who are engaging with and rationally critiquing your work—you should probably take their comments to heart. When you receive negative feedback that falls into the bottom two quadrants, you should just let it roll off your back and just keep doin’ you.
It’s great to have this handy matrix and associated rules if you or your work is out in the public eye. Thanks Ann!
This coming week, the employees in our group at Microsoft have an extra deliverable: a seven-slide (or less) PowerPoint deck on any topic they want, provided it fits modified PechaKucha presentation guidelines, in this case, auto-advancing every 30 seconds. I thought it was about time I applied a little measurement and PM-geekiness to karaoke, a hobby I’ve had for close to a decade now. The results – well, see for yourself:
I’m preparing to launch a set of post-mortem articles about my first year as CEO of 4gency and I found a nice clip that reminds me – metaphorically, anyway – of some of the struggles and lessons I’ve learned so far. Just something to keep in mind as I build out these next few articles…
There used to be a time when I thought words were all I had.
I’d say I still believe in the utility of words as far as my day job is concerned.
Indeed, even most of the realities of running a company are about painting word-pictures for others.
Lucky folks get a crib-sheet: agreed-upon acronyms, known numbers, or little charts scrawled on napkins.
For years, words are all I showed the world.
I’ve been blogging for almost fifteen years; now it’s fallen off to the occasional long-form.
The texture of information has changed, flowed and cleaved the basalt earth of our culture since then.
I’m not convinced I should continue to hold onto some principle that says I need to lecture while I make things.
I want to use my short words.
I want to talk in pictures.
Sometimes, I don’t want to talk at all and I want that to be just fine, too.
Microsoft has a term they like to throw around: a Career-Limiting Move (CLM). Refuse to take point on a major project from your manager? You’ve just committed a CLM. Accidentally send that witty, opinionated email to a wide audience that includes your Group Manager? CLM. Stand up and throw an iPad at Steve Ballmer at the annual Company Meeting? CLM!
Just maybe, what I’m about to say is a Career-Limiting Move of its own. Maybe it’s a convenient, portable, travel-sized way of ensuring I never get a job again in the industry I love, the industry I threw away every other opportunity (including the chance at a respectable four-year degree) to join, the industry that represents the fastest growing revenue segment of every digital platform ever developed – but screw it, I’ve been in the business a full, stormy, self-doubting decade and the world can hear me loud and clear:
I will never work on a first-person shooter game, ever again. Period.
