Another nightmare is the box copy. The art department’s new draft sucks. I asked Brian if he could throw a fit and insist they use my draft? He seemed willing to try.
In the 15 minutes of the day that weren’t spent in negotiations of one kind or another, I did manage to get three screens ready for the photo shoot tomorrow.
June 29, 1989
Yesterday was hectic. Robert Florczak delivered a revised box art sketch. Rob Martyn and I spent half an hour at the Mac rewriting the back-of-box copy while Brian sat behind us and dryly interjected: “Five minutes… ten minutes… Can we print it?… Are we done yet?”
The moment it came out of the LaserWriter, Brian wrote the date and time on it and it disappeared into his folder. When he brought it to Nancy, she was too exhausted to argue. “You’ve worn us down,” she said.
Now Latricia is complaining because the girl in the picture has breasts and the guy is grasping her wrist. At this point, I’m counting on Brian to steamroll over any and all objections put forward by Marketing, Art, Sales, and anyfuckingone else.
Roland and I spent the morning trying to put POP on a 3.5” disk, but for some reason we couldn’t get it to work. We’ll try again next week.
Spent the night fixing bugs, backing up, making disks, etc. in preparation for my early-morning departure. I haven’t gotten up at 6:30 AM in ages. Now I’m on the plane to New York, toting an Apple IIc in my carry-on, along with about eight pounds of CDs I grabbed off my shelf at the last minute (Scheherezade, Walküre, Götterdämmerung, Aida, Lawrence of Arabia, Ella Fitzgerald singing “Night in Tunisia,” and anything else that seemed like it might be useful).
I promised Brian a final version by July 26, a month from now. I showed him the schedule I’d made up. He read it through carefully, then looked at me with that amused smile that could mean anything. Brian and I have an understanding. Only, I’m not sure what it is.
Rob is a great guy. It was fun working together on the box copy under the gun like that. This project is still 90% solitary work, but I’ve really come to treasure that remaining (and increasing) percentage of human bonding.
The flip side of that is the incredible frustration of dealing with people like Latricia, who seem put on this earth just to make life miserable. (“It’s like we’re all playing in a sandbox and she comes over and wrecks our sand castle,” I told Brian when he informed me of her latest Anti-Bondage campaign. “Why does she do it? Because it’s there!”) But the flip side of the flip side is the bond of “us against the world,” which makes it all worth it.
Whatever instinct made me want to become a movie director was right. This is life the way it should be lived. Holing up alone in a room with my muse is half a life at best. Maybe some people are cut out for it, but I now realize that I’m not one of them. I’m having too much fun. My interpersonal skills still aren’t up to the level of my solitary work habits – I’ve got years of nerd-dom to make up for – but I like this road I’m on.
June 30, 1989
[Chappaqua] Took the 1:08 train into the city with Emily and bought a CD player at Harvey’s on 45th Street (the Chinese salesman was impressed that I was buying it for my dad). Spent the evening showing Dad the game and listening to “Persian” music for inspiration. Dad was really impressed by the game, and even more by the CD player.
Dad is in a bad state because of his business worries and the stress between him and Mom. I think the best way to cheer him up is to concentrate on making this music happen.
“It’s a big job,” Dad said. “What if we can’t get in all done in three days?”
I said: “Then we have to scale it down to a size that we can do in three days.”
Robert called to say Lance had come into the office looking for me, looking glum. He’s just gotten a really high salary offer from some company in Mountain View, which Broderbund probably won’t be able to compete with. If Lance quits and takes this other job, he won’t be able to do POP, and there’s no one else at Broderbund who’s available that I’d trust to do it.
I could call Brian/Bill on Monday and tell them I won’t sign anything until I know who they’re going to give the job to… but I don’t want to look like I’m the gun Lance is holding to their heads in order to get a raise. It’s tricky.
July 1, 1989
God, this music-making is grueling.
The Apple II is a piece of shit. Kyle’s sound routines are a piece of shit. His user interface is a piece of shit. The music we play on the CD player for inspiration sounds fucking awesome. Maurice Jarre’s rousing overture to Lawrence of Arabia – amazing. Then when we try to recapture some of that drive and ferocity on the Apple II, it sounds like a bunch of frogs’ croaking being drowned out by the crinkling of cellophane wrappers. It’s depressing.
Even so, today we managed to come up with a Princess theme and a Vizier theme that aren’t too bad. Also a heartbeat-like “hourglass” theme that interweaves nicely with the Princess theme, and a “staircase” theme with a nice Eastern twist to it. But if you step back and give it a fresh hearing, it still sounds like shit.
The part I’m most worried about is the opening titles. 30 whole seconds to fill, and so far we’ve got nothing. And tomorrow is our last full day – I’m leaving on the 5pm flight Monday.
It’s great to be in New York in the summertime during such beautiful weather, but we’ve hardly left the apartment. I’m serious, this is depressing.
July 2, 1989
I’ve never seen Dad so tired and fragile. It’s terrible how this last year of KVC/Atlantic has aged him. Sometimes, when he gets excited about a new musical idea, his old energy shines out briefly; but in repose, the exhaustion shows in his face and in the way he sits.
This weekend of music-making has been a good change of pace for him, but he’s worried about my imminent departure (I already changed my ticket to give us an extra day). I know he’s afraid of not finishing in time, of letting me down. So in a way, I’ve added to his burdens. And me – maniacal auteur taking precedence over dutiful son – I’m pushing him as hard as he can take, hoping that my tireless cheerfulness will somehow cheer him up.
(They’re taking out a second mortgage on the house!)
July 3, 1989
I think we’re over the hump. Nearly all the music is done, and it’s fine – better than I’d hoped for, once I got over the initial disappointment of remembering what a piece of shit this machine is. There’s an opening-titles crescendo that’s genuinely thrilling. (Or at least, Dad and I have talked ourselves into believing it is – remember, this is an Apple II.)
Robert had better be blown away. The sad thing is, probably very few other people at Broderbund will be – they’re used to Mac and Amiga and Atari ST music. Oh well. Somewhere, someone must appreciate this.
I’ll miss the San Francisco 4th of July fireworks, but it was worth it.
July 5, 1989
[Back in SF] Fixed that eerie bug in the music routines. It was Roland who came up with the answer – I’d relocated Kyle’s sound routines so that the page boundaries fell in different places and subtly changed the timing. I never would have thought of that. Anyway, the music’s in now, mostly, and it’s gotten a great response so far (from Brian, Greg and Robert).
Bill offered 9% at 50,000 units, 10% at 100,000. I plan to counter-offer 10% at 30,000 units. The difference isn’t worth blowing the deal for, but it’s not chicken feed either.
It’s still not clear whether Lance will stay on at Broderbund to do the conversion.
July 6, 1989
This music is great. It’s terrific. It’s everything I’d hoped for. It gives the game a whole new dimension. I’m incredibly thrilled, actually.
Brian suggested a candidate of his own to do the Princess shoot – Peter LaDeau’s 18-year-old daughter Tina – and I agreed. The problem with Aliso
n was, I couldn’t think of who to have her embrace. She might feel awkward about me asking her to throw herself into the arms of a total stranger. This way, it’s all within the family (so to speak).
Brian and Peter enjoyed the pastrami I brought back from the Carnegie Deli.
Dad is in a tough spot. The Prince of Persia music is practically the only bright spot in his life right now. I’m glad he did such a good job. We did.
July 7, 1989
Worked all day. By happy hour I was so burned out, I was dead on my feet and could hardly keep up a conversation. Then I went to the gym and worked out really hard in the heat. Then I went to Japantown and sat at a table by myself and slurped up a bowl of udon.
Now I’m all charged up again and rarin’ to go. Except… everybody’s gone. That’s OK. Maybe I’ll clean up the apartment. I feel the need to do something to restore my self-image as a human being (as opposed to a brain, a set of fingers, and the parts necessary to keep them the right distance off the ground to operate the computer).
Robert’s gone to LA for the weekend. He said Corey said Tomi seems lonely and doesn’t know many people in Paris.
July 10, 1989
I seem to be in a slump… I’m putting in the hours, but nothing gets done. Then again, the stuff I’m working on is the kind you need to chew on for a while. Level design is a creative process, like screenwriting: you can’t just sit down and put in ten hours at a stretch, you need time in between to let your ideas work themselves out.
I have a feeling I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, and one of these days I’ll hit a roll and get more done than in the three days preceding.
Eric came in today and I showed him the game. “There’s nothing more for me to do,” he declared. “It’s all fixed.”
Brian reported that the guys from Egghead said it was the best animation they’d ever seen.
I’ve talked to Dad almost every day since New York. He’s writing an “epilogue” track that he says will last about 45 seconds. I could use it.
Slowly but surely, the end of the game is falling into place: Tower, Shadowman, Vizier, Princess. I think it’ll work. It’s all in the pacing.
July 11, 1989
Put in the shadowman merging, which looks pretty cool. I think I’ve cracked the design of that level, finally, after two days (hell, three months) of struggling and feeling dissatisfied. Tomorrow I’ll work out the details.
Lance said: “I’ll do it! Quit worryin’!”
July 12, 1989
Designed most of Level 12. At this rate it’ll take another whole day to finish it.
Digitized the POP logo and put it in. Ten minutes to do, four hours to set up.
Michelle’s going to get started converting Avril’s title screen to double hi-res. I’m grateful; that’ll save me a day or two, and maybe she’ll do a better job than I could.
I thought of a way to do the prologue screens that will save time – just typeset ‘em on the LaserWriter, then digitize the whole thing. Brilliant, eh?
Assuming Michelle comes through, the whole job (credits, title, prologue, epilogue) shouldn’t take me more than a day. Not even.
Which leaves… let’s see now… four days to get the Complete Beta Version into QA. Assume half of tomorrow and half of Friday will be taken up with the princess shoot and various issues relating to packaging, documentation and IBM POP. That leaves three days to:
finish Level 12 – hard-wire shadowman’s attack, dungeon falling apart, etc. (1 day)
put in something for Level 11 – if possible, use Greg’s idea of killing a guard and a skeleton arising in its place (1 day)
fix a few bugs just to show I haven’t been ignoring their bug reports completely
Then it’s Monday – breathe a huge sigh of relief – and get back to work quick because it’s only 9 days left till Idaho!
If I’m smart I’ll spend those nine days fixing bugs, visiting QA, and in general making a big push to get all the hard, complicated stuff out of the way before I take off for seven days. The alternative would be to get the opening sequence up and running (with newly digitized Tina) and title cards finalized, so that I can give Brian something that looks polished to “wow” everyone before I leave. But that, I think, would be the wrong choice.
July 13, 1989
A productive morning. Fixed some long-standing bugs.
Lance will do it. Thank God. He and Robert and I went out for burgers at Frank’s Country Garden to seal the pact. I’ll meet with Bill on Monday and work out the remaining deal points.
Film shoot tomorrow morning. I’m actually nervous at the prospect of having to direct a beautiful 18-year-old girl I’ve never met before. I’m definitely not ready to direct a feature film. When this is over, top priority (besides screenwriting) will be to shoot some short no-budget student films.
July 14, 1989
Shot Tina LaDeau this morning. Man, she is a fox. Brian couldn’t stop blushing when I had her embrace him (through six or seven takes). I took them out to lunch afterwards.
Went out for burgers and milkshakes with Ed and Rob and their programmers, Brian “Playmaker Football” Brinkman from New Orleans, and Carlo “Jeanne D’Arc” from France.
July 16, 1989
Eleven hours at the office on a Sunday, making this my first recorded 72-hour week.
Dinner with Ed, Robert, and Brian Brinkman.
July 17, 1989
Got that disk into QA.
Doug’s back from Japan and France. He said everyone there is really pumped up about my game.
The box illustration is finished. The good news is, it’s beautiful. Brian and I were thrilled. The bad news is, they’ve sent it back to the illustrator to “make some changes.” It seems Sophie was offended by the lady’s breasts.
I’ve never seen Brian so mad. Robert said he’d never seen me so mad.
It’s water under the bridge now – I don’t want to raise my blood pressure by thinking about it. I just hope Florczak hardly touches the illustration. It was perfect the way it was.
Met with Bill, worked out the last details of the deal. IBM POP is a go.
July 19, 1989
Working 12- and 13-hour days: fixing bugs, preparing stuff for Lance, restaging the climactic battle with the Vizier to make it feel more climactic; and, as of today, digitizing Tina. The princess now turns, with her dark hair flipping as she spins around. Tomorrow I’ll make her take a step backwards, and maybe lounge about a bit. It’s a drag, having to spend hours reviewing video footage of this girl in slo-mo and frame-advance, but these are the sacrifices I have to make to get this game done.
Denis Friedman came into Brian’s office and expressed a desire (on behalf of Broderbund France) to do one of the POP conversions: Atari, Amstrad or Amiga.
Brian Brinkman leaves for New Orleans tomorrow morning. In this past week of working late I’ve come to feel a certain bond with him. (When I left at 11 pm, he and Rob and Carlo were still at it.)
Seven days left.
I broke the news to Brian that I wasn’t going to be able to finish the game by Wednesday. “That’s OK,” he said. “You’re still pretty much on schedule, right?” Bill didn’t take it so well.
I promised to get the princess animations in, and fix at least a couple of the major bugs, before I leave. I’d also like to jazz up some of the levels with more potions, shortcuts, cul-de-sacs, secret compartments, etc., and digitize at least rough versions of the opening prologue and epilogue, so that it’ll really be a complete game. Then I won’t have to put in any major features after I get back. (Except the little white mouse.)
I keep waking up at 7 am, no matter how late I go to sleep.
Finishing
July 20, 1989
Michelle delivered the cleaned-up double
hi-res title screen to Brian today. I plugged it in and redid the opening credits to match. It looks pretty darn good. I’d like to make the stars twinkle, but that’ll have to wait.
Met with Lance early this morning and got him started on the background graphics. By five o’clock he was already pretty far along. He’s jazzed. I’m jazzed. This is going to be a great conversion.
Alan Weiss dropped by to talk about Nintendo Game Boy Karateka.
Strange incident with Lee McDougall. He showed up with his assistant around five and started emptying out Loring’s and Eric’s desks. What the ?!? Robert and Brian and I were in the back room and didn’t know what to do. Finally I called Tom Marcus, since he’s Lee’s boss. Of course Tom didn’t know anything about it. I put him on the phone with Lee. So the homestead was saved from the cattle barons yet again… for the moment.
I’m feeling quite optimistic. All I have to do is work like a demon for the next six days and not get sick, and by the time I leave for Idaho, the game should be pretty close to finished.
Sleep. Got to get some sleep.
July 21, 1989
The Broderbund Picnic. Everyone knows I’m going on this trip next week and was eager to contribute horror stories of river rafting mishap and misery.
Doug told me that if I don’t finish the game by Wednesday, he’s going to be in trouble with Bill. “Hurry up,” he urged me. “My reputation’s on the line.”
It took me all day, but I think I finally came up with an acceptable princess model in single hi-res. Not as cute as Tina, but cute enough.
July 22, 1989
The entire opening sequence is in place. The sand flows, the stars twinkle, the princess does her thing. Only the Grand Vizier is missing. If I can keep up this momentum till Wednesday, I’ll be in good shape.
July 23, 1989
After lunch I started to feel so run down, I was afraid I was coming down with a virus. But after a Snickers bar, two aspirin and a gallon of water, well-being returned. Thank God. I can’t afford to get sick now.
The Making of Prince of Persia: Journals 1985-1993 Page 8