Our plan was simple: We would use the promise of rev share to attract talented individuals we knew from the industry. They would each bring their “signature dish” to the table and we would make high-caliber games most startup studios could only dream of executing. The plan was flawless. There was no downside. 

Except there was, of course… 

Today’s Lesson: The potential cost of rev share. -or- There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.

Before I begin, a word about the title for today’s entry. It’s occurred to me that potlucks are not quite as in vogue as they once were when I was a small boy growing up on an Amish homestead, so let me quickly explain.

A potluck is where a bunch of people get together and everyone brings a side dish to the occasion. In this way, everybody gets to have a nice meal much larger than anything they could prepare on their own, and all they had to do was fix one thing. It’s really quite lovely.

The same principle applies if you decide to develop a game using pure revenue sharing as the basis for compensation among the individual contributors. To be clear, I’m not talking about jobs in which revenue sharing is a portion of the overall paid compensation. That’s pretty common in the indie dev scene as a way to defray high production costs.

I’m talking about rev share as the only form of compensation, paid as a percentage of the overall revenue generated on the back end.

When we were first starting out, Lane and I thought this would be our primary model for developing games. As I once explained to a friend, (borrowing another metaphor) “We’re going to build games like bank heists. Pull together the crew, do the job, split the loot.” Add a dash of heroism and romance for good measure.

We assumed that we would be able to execute a game with a large crew for only the promise of a potential payout. Now I want to say, if you’re trying to get a game out the door and you don’t have a lot of money to spend, this is not necessarily a bad plan.

In the same way that a potluck is a big meal created for little cost in aggregate, a rev share model can provide a much bigger production with less sacrifice from the individual participants.

But here’s the rub. If a potluck is a meal pieced together, a rev share game is a project built in piecemeal. And that can sometimes pose significant problems.

Look at it this way, when you ask people to work entirely for free against the possibility of payment on the back end, there are really only four reasons they’ll say yes:

1. They’re your friends and wish you only the best in your new career, you lucky SOB.

2. The job allows them to accomplish some personal or professional goal along the way.

3. Dude, they really need the experience. Just give them a shot and you will totally not be sorry.

4. They believe the game will be a huge financial success.

Excepting point four, their motivations for creating the game won’t necessarily coincide perfectly with yours. In fact, their motivation may even lie outside of the financial success of the final product. And that means, in terms of your overall vision and creative direction, what you think will have the best chance of succeeding, you’ll only be able to push so far.
I mean, if a dude wants to make a robot game and is willing to work on it for free, but then you decide to ace the robots in favor of ninjas, you can imagine the effect this is going to have on his motivation to finish the project.
And even in the case of point four, your revenue sharing contractors may have some very strong opinions about what the final product should look like. After all, their entire compensation is wrapped up in its success; you can bet they’ll want a say in how it comes about.
Essentially, you’ve gone from a hierarchical model in which a singular vision is enforced by a project lead, to an egalitarian one in which the entire dev team are partners. And that might seem a beautiful thing in theory, but in practice it can lead to a total trainwreck.
Even one *mediocre* vision perfectly coordinated and executed is worth several brilliant, wildly divergent ideas.

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe there are great reasons to consider a pure rev share model for a project. Especially when you’re just starting out, you can get a game published with a greater diversity of resources and production value than would be possible with your normal team. It can really help you punch above your weight.

But just remember, when you ask talented professionals to work for free, you’ll probably have to give up a certain degree of creative control and ability to drive a tight production schedule. If you want that level of oversight, you’ll have to pay for it upfront.

So know what you’re getting into with rev share and manage your own expectations. Scope your job to make the best use of individual talents without relying too heavily on coordinated, cross-functional efforts and strict deadlines. Do that, and you can still find success and peace of mind along the way.

P.S. I was never raised on an Amish homestead. It just seemed like the cool thing to say.

…so there we were, guns blazing but desperately low on ammo. Lane looks over at me and I know immediately what he’s thinking. We’re going to have to blow the bridge early, even though only half the convoy’s made it across. I quickly scan the red ruin of Professor McHardy and find the goo-entombed plunger not more than a few feet from me. I steel myself for the concussive retort as I put my full weight behind the—

Alright, that clearly had very little to do with taking contract work in order to remain financially viable. But it was a lot more interesting and I simply had to indulge myself.

And how does that have anything to do with contract work? How can that confession possibly be a relevant takeaway? Simple. It’s very easy to get sidetracked by your daydreams and hold honest labor in contempt. (Believe me.)

I guarantee most contract work you get will be less interesting than the stuff you idly dream up over coffee. But here’s the deal, it’s real work that really pays. And that’s a lot more than can be said for the giant list of half fleshed-out game concepts you have running through your head and/or Google doc archive.

Taking a step back, remember how in the previous post I talked about us launching three games in two months? The hubris of it amazes me now but like I said, we really needed the money. We launched Current and had plenty of things to be proud of, but ones of those things was not a huge cash inflow. So we went back to the well.

But even in the time it took for us to get those three games kicked off and the appropriate teams assembled, the market changed on us. Two of the three games suddenly saw direct competitors launched within the span of weeks. I mean literally, games that were so similar to the games we were making, we weren’t even sure we could release them without people immediately dismissing them as simple knock-offs. And these were games that were relatively unique in the App Store at the time we started. (I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.) There hadn’t been anything else—yet—like them.

But two months and lots of dev later, two of the three games not only had competition, but it was clear we had bitten off more than we could chew in terms of the logistics and project management behind getting three games executed in two months. If we had put all of our eggs in that basket (or baskets, I suppose) we would’ve been boned. The jobs all started getting speed wobbles, there were hairline fractures spidering throughout our confidence, and the entire armada was foundering. Could you imagine if our entire future rested on this one throw of the dice?

Fortunately, we had also been making ourselves available for contract work and had a couple jobs lined up.

There’s a great game Lane and I played right when we were starting out with TinkerHouse called Game Dev Story. (In fairness, Lane had played quite awhile before me. I have to make that clear or there will be a hell toupee.)

Now in Game Dev Story, it’s imperative you take contract jobs initially to fund your original titles. There’s no other way to make it in the beginning. And as it turns out, that’s pretty close to reality. (As are a lot of things in Game Dev Story. If you’re thinking about starting your own studio, you should give the game a try. It’s cute and oddly informative.)

Whether you’re hired to port a game from one platform to another, or making a utility app for someone from scratch, or anything else that falls in the range of hired gun, work-for-hire, don’t feel bad about it! Making it in the app game purely through your own creations is still the golden ticket, but it’s a long shot.

We tried to make our fortunes purely through indie game development. We saw firsthand how quickly the window closes for each new release and how unpredictable the app market can be. If you’re looking to strike it rich out there, do yourself a favor. Don’t be too proud to take paid work. You’ll still be working for yourself. But part of working for yourself entails working. Or more importantly, really, getting paid for your work.

Even as I write this, we have two port jobs and two original apps commissioned. And we’re very grateful for that work. It’s keeping us in the black and funding our indie aspirations. And to be honest, if you can’t find a creative challenge in work-for-hire, that’s usually a paucity of imagination on your part, not the gig’s.

So go out into the dark heart of midnight and quest for your fortune, bold adventurer. But don’t be afraid to do some contract work along the way.

Hey, it keeps the porch light on.

When we first started TinkerHouse Games, Lane and I had very strong idea of how it was all going to unfold. Then we quit our day jobs, packed our bags and headed out into the wild frontier of mobile gaming. That was when we first realized that we actually had no idea what would happen next. In an effort to help fellow and aspiring game designers muddle through the process of starting out, we offer the occasional true and spine-tingling tale… from the TinkerHouse…

Today’s Lesson: How to work for yourself by working for others.

Our plan was simple. Launch Current, get accolades, get rich. Use the largesse from our first title to fund the next one. Oh, hell, the next three. And not sequentially the next three, but concurrently. We’d make them all at once. We’d offer rev share terms to our dev ronin at first, but pretty quickly we’d be able to pay for game development upfront.

So what happened? Well, for starters, it’s become painfully obvious that the best laid plans—still—rarely work out the way you’d expect. But that’s probably true for most new businesses just starting out, much less the ones exploring an industry that’s really only come into its own in the last three years.

More importantly, we underestimated the dynamics of the app market and overestimated our ability to adapt to them. That’s not to say we aren’t infinitely more agile than the large companies we left or that we fail to perceive what’s coming around the corner next. Far from it. We actually have a great handle on where things are headed. (Or at least that’s been the case so far!)

The problem is that the window of opportunity moves very quickly and only stays open for an incredibly short period of time. Current was well-received critically and enjoyed enough downloads in its first week to land on both the New and Noteworthy and What’s Hot lists. Despite that, we had about a week and a half of limelight before the next wave of hopefuls came in and Current lost its coveted pole position. The vast majority of our revenue came within the first seven days and let’s just say it was somewhat below expectations. Suddenly, our master plan had sprung a serious leak.

And all of that transpired in about ten days. A super-nitro infused joyride with a Metallica soundtrack, yes. A thrill to be a part of, no doubt. But over all too soon.

So we stoically sucked it up and went about designing and commissioning three more games. All at once. Now that I look back at it, I can’t believe we actually thought we would be able to design, execute, and bring to market three titles over the span of two and a half months. But we did.

It probably helped that we really needed the money.

Part 2 tomorrow…I gotta do some other stuff now. Stay tuned.

Big thanks to Electric Playground for the interview! Look for us in the 4th clip: TinkerHouse Games – Studio Profile. http://ow.ly/6NxYi

We just picked up Dreadfleet the new Games Workshop pirate extravaganza & are excited to play it tomorrow. http://ow.ly/6MpLU

Who knew we were such givers at heart? Here’s another free Sultry mix from the 7-song Current Soundtrack. The full speed versions of these songs will be available on iTunes soon. http://ow.ly/6CaEg

Dear TinkerFriends, please enjoy this unreleased remix of one of our most popular songs from Current with our gratitude. http://ow.ly/6vIyP


One night I was concepting new sounds with my friend Seann for our next TinkerHouse release, a kid’s app we’re calling “Monster Orchestra.” (calling monster orchestra…come in monster orchestra…do you read me, hello? Anyone?)

And of course, as men of our age and proclivity are wont to do, especially when discussing sound effects, our conversation took an obligatory detour towards Star Wars town. Now in this particular instance, we were debating what the most famous (most recognized) sound effect was in the pop culture hegemony that is the Star Wars universe.

Seann stunned me with a fast declaration for Chewbacca’s patented Wookie growl, which I honestly did not see coming. (Although, I’ve since heard that answer more often than I could’ve imagined in conversation around town.)

I insisted it had to be the righteous phhsh-vmm-brrm-vrrmm of the lightsaber activating nd slashing through the air. Later, we would throw out others to pad the debate. The Tie-Fighter diving in for the kill with its angry whine…or the Dark Lord of the Sith’s labored breathing. (The latter is easily the most enduring vestige of Vader’s menace, I think. Long after the black cape and leather body suit have given way to mockery and satire, there is still that ominous, measured rasp.)

Since that night, I’ve asked friends from time to time the same question and it’s always given way to an interesting reaction. For starters, it’s crazy to see how many different opinions people have on the topic, how quickly they form those opinions, and how steadfastly they defend them. It’s not a matter of light debate, my friends. Oh, no.

If there was ever a question begging to be on Family Feud, this is it. “Name the most recognizable sound effect in the Star Wars universe. Survey says…”

The Current soundtrack is in the top 10 in 5 countries! Did you know that you can buy the soundtrack separately? Check it out in the iTunes Store… http://ow.ly/6shZQ

Download “The Current Flows” a song from Current’s original soundtrack for free. Two new songs available on iTunes soon! http://ow.ly/6sx0m

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