Letter to My Nephews 3 - This Is Your Story - Extra Credits

Dear Max and Dave, I remember one year coming home for the holidays. It was bitter cold. The days were dark. My folks picked me up at the airport. I had almost everything I owned in a bag on my back. It had been a rough year, an impossible year. There wasn't a lot of fight left in me. We drove back to the house where I was raised, and on the way we stopped for a warm meal at a cheap Mexican place that I used to love as a kid. As we walked out across the lot, there was a GameStop. I wasn't feeling much like games. I wasn't feeling much like anything. But my mom told me to go in. She could see that I was down, and she knew how much that I used to like just looking at all the boxes in the game stores. So I went in, figuring that I would look around for a minute and then go. Heck, it was better than nothing, right? But as I walked in, I saw an employee putting the last boxes up in a giant display. It was for Final Fantasy X. I had sort of lost track of the series after VIII, but I remembered

how much I loved the Final Fantasies of my youth. I, IV, VI, even the Final Fantasy Legends, which I still thought were Final Fantasies at the time. It was launch day for Final Fantasy X. They had exactly two copies left. So I figured, why not? My PS2 was in my bag. It might be nice to have something to play to get through the holidays. I put the few dollars I had from my nothing job on the counter, and walked out with a game that I really knew nothing about except for the title. We went home. I got settled into my old room. I stayed up late talking with the family. Then, when the house was dark and everybody had gone to bed, I found I couldn't sleep. So I wrapped a blanket around me, tore the cellophane off of this game that I'd bought, and figured I'd go ahead and fire it up on the tiny TV in my room. About 20 minutes into the game, one of the characters says to another, "This is your story." before sending him on this terrifying, magnificent adventure that was his life. And that phrase just kept rattling through my head because it was

true. This was my story. I felt useless and powerless and beaten down, but this was my story. The world was too heavy and I felt too small, but this was my story. Things were outside of my control. I felt like there was nothing I could do, but this was my story and I was going to write it my way. This was the lesson games taught me. I had been the protagonist in so many journeys. I'd been the hero on so many adventures and done so many mighty deeds. Why not in my own life? I was going to write my story. No matter what came at me, no matter how difficult it felt or what obstacles were laid in my path, these were just challenges to be overcome because every hero faces challenges. Every protagonist has struggles. It's never easy for the heroes in these stories, but they always look for an answer. They always find a way. They always get back up and dust themselves off. They don't let someone else write the story for them. When I

first declared that I was going to work designing games for a living, many of the people I knew told me that I was crazy. That people didn't just get jobs doing stuff like that, but this was my story and I wasn't going to accept that. And as they went out to find safe jobs, I went through my twisty path that eventually led me here. I was poor and broke while they were bringing in their first good paychecks. While they were buying their first cars, I was working catering. Many of them were very kind and offered to help me get some starting position where they worked, but this was my story and I knew that wasn't how it was supposed to go. When I first seriously applied to be a game designer, everybody told me that job didn't exist as an entry-level position and at the time it didn't. They all told me that I had to start in QA, but I knew that that wasn't my story. So, I sent out 120 resumes, and I got 12 yeses. Of those, the one I really desired wanted me to

start right away. I had enough money for a one-way ticket, or enough money to make rent that month. I bought the ticket. The office had a shower. All my worldly possessions fit in two suitcases under my desk. For my first two weeks on the job, I was the first one to work in the morning and the last one out of the office, because I was sleeping on the beach. That was my story. Max, Dave, we weren't born rich. We weren't born with a golden ticket. People are going to break your heart. People are going to disappoint you. Sometimes, it's going to seem like it's just easier for everybody else than it is for you. But, this is your story. It can be anything you want it to be.