Why is Live support Harder than it Seems?
Annoyingly, it’s reasonably common for devs on first-gen products to sneer at live teams, as if their job is somehow easier.
It’s not easier. It’s radically different and extremely challenging in many respects.
- Live teams are never done. There is no big launch date where they can pop champagne and ‘be done’ after several years of work. Every launch is followed immediately by prepping for the next update. This requires a completely different mind set.
- Live teams don’t get deadline extensions. They can’t slip. If they do, people don’t get paid. Live revenue is extremely reliable revenue and you company is definitely banking on those numbers coming through for them. You can do anything that’s awesome as long it’s done by deadline.
- Players are passionate and their imaginations move at lightspeed. Always faster than the rate at which features can be completed by the devs. Expectations are often far in excess of what can be achieved and not letting that destroy team morale requires strong-minded devs that focus on the wins they do create.
- If you’re doing your job well, then your audience isn’t quitting. This also implies that you’re going to be having conversations with those same players for MANY years. Handle them well now and always. This is absolutely an art, not a science.
- It requires the ability to see things as new. You can’t become jaded about your game if you’re going to develop it for years. You can’t let yourself fall into ruts. You have to see the fun and get joy from watching others experience it. You have to be able to pretend it’s new all over again and see it for what it really is. Next year can *always* be better and the game is *always* getting stronger. Have that attitude or die.
A Final Note
My online credits include the first (at least to my awareness) in-game virtual community for a shooter (“Tribes 2”), the first MMOFPS (“Planetside”), the first flash-based MMO for a social community (“Gaia Online”), and most recently, five successful years of growing and developing the wonderful worlds of “EverQuest”, “EverQuest II” and “Landmark”, with a double-fisted part in the envisioning of what “EverQuest Next” might become.
All of these worlds and dev-player experiences were radically different from each other. Even EQ and EQII’s communities are different. Why? Because the people attracted to the same huge collection of uniqueness that is a game all have the love of that game in common. All their unique personalities match in that one respect, and watching the community develop out of those touch points is amazing.
Want to see people that don’t hold back in a discussion? You’re going to *love* FPS communities. Stand strong. Want to be involved in a community that embraces its new players working to make them better? Try a building game like Landmark.
No surprise. You get the home you build.
But I have loved all of the various communities I’ve been part of, even when opinions get heated, because every one of that game’s players is just as passionate as I am. And sharing the dream going forward is 100% of the fun.