https://gabrielcornish.com/atom

Microblogging should be simple and easy. But, most microblogging services are overkill for me.

So, I made Postlets. A way to create and manage a microblog with a bookmarklet.

• No account creation.
• No complicated static site generation.
• Works offline.
• Outputs with microformats2 and HTML Journal
• Exports an RSS feed.
• Has strong HTML Energy

1. Bookmark this link: Postlets
2. Click the bookmark to create a new HTML Journal - (Warning: depending on the current webpage it may not allow bookmarklets to run. Temporarily switch to a bookmarklet safe site like Wikipedia )
3. Open the Journal.HTML (or whatever you named it). To add a post, just click the Postlets bookmark while viewing your Journal.
4. Save and host (or don't) wherever you want.

That's it. Enjoy.

• If you run into any issues, bugs, or just want to say hi: gabriel cornish at pm dot me

Wishing there was more time to play games is not playing games.

Thinking about playing games is not playing games. Browsing Steam sales is not playing games. Stressing about your backlog is not playing games.

Buying more games is not playing games. Optimizing your gaming rig is not playing games.

Arguing about games is not playing games. Listening to podcasts about games is not playing games. Watching someone play games is not playing games.

Planning to play games is not playing games.

Feeling nostalgic for games is not playing games. Reading opinions about games is not playing games.

Downloading mods is not playing games. Buying a new console is not playing games. Feeling guilty about not playing games is not playing games.

Telling yourself you'll start playing games is not playing games.

However...

Doing a 10 minute session IS playing games.

Switching to a different game every day IS playing games. Playing the same game for years IS playing games.

Rolling credits is playing games. Realizing you don't like the game your playing IS playing games. Enjoying games nobody likes IS playing games.

Sucking at a game IS playing games. Experiencing a game for yourself IS playing games.

Playing games on your own terms IS playing games.

(Inspired by: Prakhar Gupta)

A few times in my career I've had to design leader boards for games. I have mixed feelings about them. As a player, you either care about them, or you don't.

But, a leader board is rarely ignored. The player can feel its presence even if they're indifferent to it.

Ok, so what?

Recently, I've noticed some posts about Bear's trending page and it makes sense that it gets written about.

In games, whenever you have a ranking system, you create an incentive to climb those ranks. Reaching the top is essentially "winning".

It feels good. But, here's the thing:

If we set aside judgement on whether the Discovery Feed is "good", "bad", or neither... the truth is that an incentive to climb the ranks exists.

There are many reasons to blog, but I imagine one of them is to be heard and understood. To connect with others around our experiences and perspectives.

The Discovery Feed increases the likelihood that happens. For some, that's a powerful motivator.

I've enjoyed the Discovery Feed. I've read some great writing I wouldn't have otherwise. It's a bright spot in my day.

I also feel secure in the motivation behind my writing...

However, if I'm honest, I also want to be heard. I want to be understood. I want to connect with others.

So, even as I write this, I can't deny that I feel the presence of the Discovery Feed.

There's something cozy about playing a video game offline.

Try it. Turn off WiFi in the house or go into offline mode and boot up your favorite game. Get comfy with your favorite beverage and snack.

If the game works in offline mode, you're in for a real treat. You'll notice:

• Nothing is trying to "keep" you longer than you want to be there.
• Microtransactions don't work or are non-existent.
• The experience is less "noisy". It's more focused.
• There's nothing tracking you while you play. Nothing is sending data back home about you.
• There are no system notifications interrupting your experience.
• There are no fomo driven promotions trying to upsell you

The mere fact that the game runs offline means it's built to last. If it can boot up without internet, you can be confident it will boot up 10 years from now.

It's feels simple. Back to basics. Pure. Boot up the game and play. No updates needed before it can run and the only thing getting in the way of you and your game is a loading screen.

Immerse yourself like you used to back in the day. Just enjoy the artistry on display. Avoid looking up reviews, hints, and guides. Get lost and try to figure things out. Ask yourself how you feel about the experience. Make up your own mind. Don't try to optimize the experience based on someone else's suggestions.

Just play. Play the way you want to play.

At the end of the day, when the kid is asleep, I sit down in front of the TV and hours go by.

The algorithm tells me to consume, so I consume. The strength needed to fight it isn't there.

It never ends. Consume, consume, consume, consume.

Then it's time for bed. Repeat, evening after evening.

I don't know what I want from my nights, but I know its not this.

The only thing I know to counter consumption is creation.

The burn is there. The soul wants to make. That's why I'm doing this #100DaysToOffload writing challenge.

It's out of desperation. I can't keep going without creating something. Anything.

I want to have a body of work I can look back on and be proud of. Work that connected with someone, somewhere.

I know that I'll be throwing messages in a bottle into the infinite raging sea of the internet. I'll need to learn to be okay with that. But if it means I can tip the balance towards creation, I hope I can shake this feeling that an algorithm is in charge.

I've realized that in a world of consumption, creation is an act of rebellion.

And I really want to rebel.

I've always struggled with the desire to make something that is considered "good"—and to do it consistently.

The problem is, "good" is subjective.

This led me to discover one of my toxic traits: I want the subjective to become objective. I'm always searching for a reproducible and systematic approach to the creative process. I like things to be clear and straightforward.

It's flawed thinking, but I believed that if I could define what a good game was, then I could deconstruct the process and make one consistently.

A definition eluded me for a long time, but I eventually stumbled upon one that I feel good about:

A game is only as good as the promises it keeps.

I came across this idea in one of the best blog posts I’ve read on game creation:

How to Make Good Small Games.

After reading it, I realized that a game gets to define its own terms of success. It does this by making promises to the player—and then keeping them.

A game should be judged by how well it keeps its promises. Does it deliver what it says it will?

Making a game that costs half a billion dollars and takes ten years to develop is a type of promise with high expectations. It’s a hard promise to keep. Alternatively, a 5-minute game with amateur art can still be good as long as it delivers on its promises—a much easier promise to keep.

So, I think I’ve found a good balance between a subjective and objective definition of what makes a good game:

A good game keeps its promises to the player.

🕹 This year I became unemployed for the first time.

Many of us in the game industry continue to be laid off, so I wanted to share how I structured my day in order to land another job in the industry.

After the initial shock, and a bit of floundering, I decided to craft a simple daily routine that was essential for my mental well-being and productivity during the job hunt.

• Morning: Create 🎨
• Mid-day: Connect 📨
• Afternoon: ​Contribute 🙌🏽

This was about building skills and creative growth.

In the mornings I would explore new technologies, build small prototypes, and hone my craft.

I looked at what requirements companies were putting in their job listings and I tried to create projects around those.

This was about maximizing opportunities.

The job market is bleak in the game industry, so the trick here was to kick up as much dust as possible.

I reached out to my network and applied for roles. I also shared my work from my morning creative sessions. I really just tried to keep the momentum going.

I got a lot of rejections, but I treated them as badges of honor. It was proof that I was putting myself out there.

Being stubborn was actually beneficial here.

This was about giving back to the community.

I tried to help others in their job search. I contributed to my friends' indie projects and participated in game jams.

Plenty of my friends were also looking for work, so we needed to band together. Assisting each other was how we were going to get through this.

🌟 Here's one last bonus...

Evenings were dedicated to recharging with loved ones. It was my time to unplug, rest, and cherish moments with my friends and family.

Financially, things were tight and it was hard not to think about that. But, knowing that at night I could lean on those around me to help me get ready for the next day's fight... that was everything.

And that's about it.

It took a while to land a job, but I'm happy to say I eventually did. Stability is still not guaranteed in this industry. I don't think it ever will be. But, if I find myself on the unemployment line again, I'll be falling back to this routine.