Introduction

I’ve always loved computers. Growing up, I knew that working with computers was exactly what I wanted to do. And I was equally sure that I would never become a programmer. Programming a simple “Hello World” in Basic on a Commodore 64 back in the mid-80s was a painful exercise that convinced me programming was the digital equivalent of having a root canal.

After failing to finish college the first time around, I married and grew a family. Reentering college to work on a Computer Science degree, I was once again faced with the dilemma of loving computers and hating programming. After an initially interesting introduction to programming logic course, the follow ups were less than spectacular. To whit: an introductory Visual Basic class that guided us by using a business database as our programming model; an advanced Visual Basic dot Net class that guided us by using a business database—this one centered around ocean buoys—as our programming model.

I think you see the issue. A business database inspires as much joy as watching Julia Childs doing football commentary. Every time I heard the term “buoy” I get an ache in my lower back and my head begins to throb.

Clearly I was more interested in the creative aspects of computer use. And when the Simulation and Digital Entertainment degree program was launched, I jumped at the chance to do some things I had already been playing around with for fun. Modeling objects for use in game modifications, for example. Or web design work. Or creating graphics. All were things I had found intensely enjoyable and looked forward to learning more and advancing my skills.

But then, I had to stumble into programming again. This time the courses were Flash Actionscript game design. And suddenly I realized how and why programming could be so much fun. Loops, variables, and arrays all became potent weapons in solving problems to create a memorable and fun game. Frustration at hitting a wall would turn into elation when a solution was found. Hours would be wasted looking up a simple method to accomplishing a complex task, with no real notice of the passage of time.

After several semesters—and after transferring from the two-year portion of the program at the local community colleges to the upper-end portion of the program at the University of Baltimore—it was once again time for the schools to hold their annual Game Day, a celebration of gaming. Symposiums, lectures, and head-to-head LAN contests. It was definitely the place for budding game designers to go and rub elbows with people who know their stuff.

This year the schools decided to host a Game Development contest with several categories. While 3D modeling appealed to me—even though characters were not something I had attempted yet—and creating levels and mods for popular games was something I was extremely familiar with, it was the Flash Games category that excited me the most. Having done plenty of Flash game design already during two courses, I was now free to create whatever I wanted to make without having to worry about the structure of a group.

In past coursework, most of the final projects had been group designed, and I had found those structures to have both pros and cons. On the pro side, you have others to bounce ideas off of and to help do the work in question, allowing for a greater amount to get done in a short period of time. On the con side, if someone sucked, they sucked and there was no way to get rid of someone since firing wasn’t an option as it would be in the real world.

Here was an opportunity to do away with that structure altogether and do what I wanted how I wanted and when I wanted. Unfortunately my oldest son had no interest in working with me on this project as he had others in the past. I guess word games just aren’t his speed.