So, You've Decided to Start Your Own Game Company

Let me be really clear, right off. No, I haven't started my own game company. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. Four times in my career I have been approached by start-up game companies who wanted me to be a part of their endeavor. "Get in on the ground floor," they said. "We're going to be the next big thing," they said. Each time I said no, and each time I was happy.

Even though one of them was a little company with a game I was sure wasn't going anywhere. It was called Magic: the Gathering.

Dang.

Wizards got so big and powerful thanks to that game that wasn't going anywhere, they eventually got me anyway -- they bought TSR out from under me, you might say. And that turned out to be okay, but not as sweet as if I had come in a lot earlier and bought the stock I was offered.

Dang.

But I said that I was happy each time I said no and, all Wizards millionaire jokes aside (and do not doubt for a moment that all the people "in on the ground floor" at Wizards are millionaires), it's really true. I'm happy with those decisions because "be in on the ground floor" really means "risk everything on a one-in-a-million-scheme in an environment of stress and really long hours of work for very little pay." Most game companies fail.

And it's harsh, but it's the truth -- they fail because they're run by gamers.

Let me say up front that I know little about business, and I like it that way. And the thing is, most gamers don't know anything about business. Gamers that start game companies are just like you and me. They're just a couple of people with a neat idea for a game and they want to get it published. Some guy had all his friends tell him what a great DM he is and that he ought to "publish his great campaign world," and the next thing you know, he's the president of Doesn't Have a Prayer Games.

One in 50 or so actually makes it, at least for a while. They had a really good game that sold well, or they actually had some business sense, or they had a friend already in the game industry. But they're the exceptions.

I've no interest in fighting against odds like that. I also have no interest in dealing with printers and print-buying, shipping, and warehousing product, and working with distributors and retailers.

Now, this isn't a rant (that's another part of the site). I've nothing but respect for people with the guts and the skill to start their own companies. I've nothing but respect for retailers, distributors, printers, print-buyers, salespeople, and the guy who guides the truck back up to the door at the warehouse. (I used to work in a warehouse -- a fireworks warehouse. I'll tell you that story sometime.) I think all those people are great. I just don't want to be a part of that process.

Thus, Malhavoc Press. It's just a little outlet for my own ideas -- ideas that I wanted to go straight from me to you. That's the real beauty of Malhavoc Press. That's why I'm so excited. It's not the entrepreneurial aspects, it's the creative aspects.

Let me tell you, when you write something for a company -- any company, but the bigger they are the worse it is -- lots of people handle your work before it ever gets read by a customer. Editors, managing editors, reviewers, managers, manager's managers, typesetters, graphic designers, artists, art directors, marketing people, salespeople, vice presidents, and sometimes even CEOs all have some sort of say over at least a small part of everything you write. It can become exhausting.

It's incredibly freeing to know that at Malhavoc, I can write something and, after Sue points out a few gaffs here and there, it goes straight to you. And fast. For comparison, I finished writing Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil almost a year ago. It comes out in July. I finished writing The Book of Eldritch Might a little more than two weeks ago, and it's out. Ahh. That feels so good.

That's why Malhavoc Press exists. I've no intention of taking over the whole game industry and ruling all game companies under my thumb based on the huge success of my little imprint.

That part comes later.