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As
the first few issues of Nintendo Power made it into
the hands of anxious young Power Players (over 2,000,000
actually—making Nintendo Power one of the 5 top magazines
for “children” and one of the 25 top magazines – of
any kind), an excitement was building at the American
location of the company. We were in an enormous growth
mode. Success was like static electricity all around
us. And we could feel it. On a personal note, this loosely
organized team of individuals that I was a part of was
blazing some new trails and relishing the challenge
to top our own achievements. I am very much accomplishment
driven and I was receiving a lot of personal satisfaction
from my contribution—if nothing else.
Like
any good magazine, each writer/editor had his own “beat.”
Though many articles were in the nature of a review
or a how-to step-by-step guide to get a player through
the game, the main purpose of the magazine was ADVERTISEMENT.
While I wrote my share of the “how-to’s,” my beat was
previews of soon-to-be-released and future games, and
reviews of those games “hot-off-the-manufacturer’s truck.”
Writing promotional copy is considerably different than
straight journalistic reporting (which was what I had
been formally trained to do), but it turned out that
I had quite a knack for it. Still, I generally found
myself walking a fine line on this beat.
I
was liaison to the then 43 licensee companies and established
a reasonable and friendly relationship with my contacts.
I wanted to maintain those relationships even though
at times I had to be less than glowing about one of
their games. Beyond that, Nintendo stood to make money
on the sale of licensee games, so Nintendo also had
a stake in my putting forth a positive review and Nintendo
was not shy about making me understand that. At the
same time, it was my name that was associated with the
writing and I was compelled to be honest—though I realized
that I didn’t have to be brutally honest while still
getting my message across. There was a great deal of
creativity to be found in delivering an honest review
while still spinning the game in the best possible light--in
giving the consumer a frank account of the game while
making the licensee company feel as though we were hailing
it as the next blockbuster. I have to admit: I never
failed at that. Not once. Even when I thought it just
wasn’t possible.
I
recall one instance where I was to review a fishing
game. I was to write a one or two-sentence blurb for
the “coming attractions” type page. Just a caption really,
underneath a screen shot. Now, frankly, how bored do
you have to be if you’re sitting on your couch “virtual
fishing!?” I couldn’t think of a more useless waste
of plastic and electronics, but “it’s a living.” So
I played the thing. There a few different lakes to choose
from. Several different lures. Casting was done with
the A and B buttons. I’m not kiddin.’ I got a few, but
most of the “game” was spent waiting. And waiting. Just
what you want to do after laying down 50 big ones for
this month’s entertainment. Man, I don’t like waiting
when I’m fishing for real let alone when I’m….waitaminute.
That’s it! That’s my angle for the blurb. And under
the screen shot I wrote, “All the excitement of real
fishing! Right in your NES!” Hey, I wasn’t lying. The
other editors thought it was hilarious, but I really
didn’t think I could get it past our staff “censor,”
but it did! We later heard from the licensee company
that they were thrilled with the caption. Sometimes
I even amaze myself.
I
spoke of the staff “censor.” No one officially had that
title, but the responsibility lay with the person in
charge. This was NOT the mentor I mentioned earlier,
but a different young woman who was given the helm of
publishing the magazine. I believe “given” is a fairly
accurate term here. I was told by my immediate supervisor
that she once was a foreign exchange student who’d spent
a week in Japan (in a student exchange program) with
the family of the president of the company. That, my
supervisor said, was how she came to be in charge of
the magazine. Good life lesson here people. It’s all
about who you know. He told me that, to his knowledge,
she had no formal training as a writer, editor, or publisher.
Nor, by her own admission, did she have any real knowledge
of video games themselves, their history, or the industry.
I guess that’s why it was an unending source of amazement
to me that she ALWAYS had an opinion about something.
Everything. And, usually, it was the wrong one. I was
to butt heads with this former “foreign exchange student”
many times during my time served at Nintendo. I certainly
wasn’t alone in that, but I DID have formal training
as a writer, editor, and publisher, and I, too, was
very opinionated because of my formal training. I also
had played a video game at least once.
So
I tended to acquiesce much less frequently and much
less easily than did my peer editors. It is simply not
part of my make-up to try to just appease the dragon,
let it calm down, and hope it will go away. I am of
the “it is better to light a candle than curse the darkness”
school. Shine the light on the problem to make it easier
to solve. With all due respect to my peer editors, I
was alone in this. Now, no one, not even I, went out
of his way to poke a sleeping dragon, nor agitate an
already agitated one. Indeed, I, especially, tried to
steer clear of the dragon on those days, most days,
when the dragon was in a particularly foul mood. I don’t
like getting seared anymore than the next editor.
However,
no amount of flame will deter me when I’m standing up
for the right thing to do. So my particular battles
with her seemed to be the most noteworthy of my peers
(whose “battles” usually consisted of them sitting at
their desks grumbling under their breath).. Certainly,
mine were the loudest. The dragon and I tended to disagree,
especially at first, on pretty much everything. Large
and small. A lot of that was probably a personality
conflict. Had to be. Something about me rubbed her the
wrong way. Without trying to ring my own bell anymore
than it may appear that I already have, I have the feeling
she felt challenged around me. Which is understandable.
I certainly had more training than she did. More experience
at managing people, too. It’s a shame she felt that
way though. I never wanted her job. I never wanted to
make her look inept. Quite the contrary; had she only
been more receptive, she would have come off smelling
like a rose. Another life lesson people: If you’re ever
put in charge, surround yourself with talented people
and then get out of their way. You’ll look like a genius.
But, like many of her male counterparts at the company,
handling authority was not her long suit.
And,
to be fair, I wasn’t the most deftly tactful person
in those days. I tended, then as now, to call a spade
a spade. I had little patience to put things in diplomatic
terms either. I didn’t have an appreciation for how
valuable such a skill is. I assumed that since we’re
all professionals and we’re all working for the same
goal, egos should take a backseat to doing what is right.
Well, in an ideal world, that would be correct. Maybe
you’ve noticed: we don’t live in one o’ them. There
was a time when I did not suffer fools graciously. It
is still an effort, but I’m a lot more gracious than
I used to be. Part of that is simple maturity, but a
great portion I credit my mentor who gently and patiently
introduced me to the concepts of tact and diplomacy.
Profound lessons that I will have unto the grave. To
my own credit, I worked hard to employ restraint and
patience and diplomacy when I had to deal with the dragon
and, to that degree, our relationship improved. However,
such improvement in conduct does not prevent a dragon
from remaining a dragon. Ultimately, I can only change
myself.
Happily,
that’s what I did. For the better, I think, so it was
not a totally negative experience. Close, but not totally.
At one point, when the dragon had an opportunity to
promote me, she acknowledged that our working relationship
had improved dramatically, and admitted that I had certainly
earned it and that no other person on staff deserved
the promotion more than me. Still, because of our history,
she couldn’t bring herself to do the right thing and,
consequently, the promotion went to someone else. She
DID inform me that I had the option of performing the
same duties as the promoted position (if I desired),
but that I would not be paid accordingly. As you can
imagine, having worked diligently for this opportunity
for which I was proficiently skilled and highly trained
(and the only one in the room that could make that claim),
I was beyond disappointment. I was later told by my
mentor who was part of this meeting that the dragon
fully expected me to explode at her and read her the
“Riot Act (which would have proven everything the dragon
ever thought about me),” and was taken aback when I
calmly related that to deny me the promotion was unprofessional,
unethical, and inexcusable, and that everyone in the
room knew it. I remained calm when I explained that
I would not be further volunteering my time and skill
toward the magazine since I wasn’t going to be compensated
accordingly (It didn’t make sense to make her look any
better than I already had if this was her gratitude.).
I had to live with her “decision.” As she was to discover
in time, so did she. Unfortunately for Nintendo, so
did Nintendo, but I’ll explain more about that in the
next chapter.
My
mentor told me several months later that the dragon
had volunteered to her that the magazine never had the
same light tone or positive voice after I left; that
something was definitely missing. I continued to read
the magazine after I stopped writing for it and, objectively,
I had noticed that as well, but, until this moment,
I’ve never voiced it. Nice of the dragon to admit though…finally.
Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
A
month or so later I was to begin work at another renowned
video game company. I’m getting a little ahead of myself,
however. I still had other adventures and accomplishments
prior to ending my time served at the Big N. One involved
this fictional Captain character that was to have a
significant impact on my life. And an even more significant
impact on the life of another.
Next
chapter: Enter Captain Nintendo
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