The Making of LEGO Island

The Making of LEGO Island is an incomplete memoir written by Wes Jenkins.

The memoir details some of the early creation of LEGO Island, particularly the conception and pitching of the game to LEGO's U.S. executives in 1995, as well as an opening chapter recounting LEGO's "Childhood Experience", an internal exhibit designed to evoke the feeling of growing up to new LEGO recruits.

The memoir was never finished before Jenkins' death in 2017, and cuts off shortly before the team travelled to London to pitch LEGO's Denmark executives. The text contains evidence of being a first draft, such as occasional spelling and grammar errors, repetition, and awkward phrasing. These errors remain uncorrected in this reproduction.

The Making of LEGO Island - Wes Jenkins

Lego Island is a CD designed as a toy with gaming features. It was conceived in 1995 and was released in 1997. It sold over seven million copies, in twenty one countries, and seven languages. It was the first globally-marketed video game in the 100 year history of one of the most recognized brands in the world.

This is a tribute in honor of the team that made it possible. This is the behind the scenes story of the humor, pitfalls and rewards of the Making of Lego Island.

CHAPTER ONE - They Call Me Ishmael

Papa Brickolini had just served his first real pizza after years of making plastic ones. LEGO Land in Carlsbad, California opened a pizzeria in his name. He was one of my first children or at least that's how I saw him when I first saw the restaurant. I felt a certain sense of parental pride. After all, my chiid had become a success serving real pizza to real people. There I was, a 40 year old child with a beard, worn out from several years of late nights and early mornings, trying to hold back a tear or two while standing in the middle of a crowd of hyper-active, excited 6 year olds ignoring their parents' plea to slow down. It was the end of a very long journey. It began in 1995. It was 1997.

I was the Creative Director, writer, and designer of LEGO Island. A year after release, I was subsequently hired by Lego International Media and was asked to develop the Computer Games Learning Range Division. I was sent over to Denmark with a group of my new colleagues of European Newbies. We were all in for an adventure in the small town of Billund in Denmark. It is an all Lego town. It's miles of buildings that serve every function that a global toy empire needs complete with rouge pheasants and a time delayed sun. The downtown area, similar to the Disneyland Main Street, has shops and restaurants for the residents, visitors, and employees of this well-loved corporation. It is possibly the only employee- friendly corporation in the world. Certainly, the only one I've ever seen. Despite a tad ethnocentric, Denmark itself seems to be a citizen-friendly country from health services to unemployment benefits. I have heard though that this magical town does have a contagious case of Cabin Fever however. There is a nearby airport that is affectionately known as The Worm-Hole and this is where all us new kids arrived late at night. We sat in the Lego hotel bar and talked about things that people talk about after one too many drinks.

The next morning, we were given a tour around the facilities. One of the buildings is an expansive well-presented warehouse with a gallery of innovative Lego art from fine artists. Paintings, sculptures made of Legos and a museum of century old boxes and toys by the original toy inventors, ancestors of the present day owners.

After a really cool tour of the place, It was announced that we would take part in an exclusive, employee only experience: The Childhood Experience. It is brilliantly designed to Lego-tize or to familiarize the new employees into their 100 year tradition. In the corner of this large warehouse stands a little house, a little white cottage. We gathered around as our hostess explained. We were instructed to go over one at a time to the entrance of this small house and put on a white jump suit and white booties that hung on the front door. Since my last name always begins with a "J", I am always in the middle of any kind of alphabetical order. The A to H people went in one at a time for half hour intervals. The rest of us sat on nearby benches and discussed what possibly could be going on. We watched as one person at a time would walk over and sit back down after their time in the house. They would have these glazed-over stares as if they have just been given a drug or some electrode head gear. They just sat back down. After an odd moment of silence each would say "wow" and "you'll see". My turn was next but I wasn't sure I wanted to become a zombie pod-person. Still, I slowly walked over and put on the requisite outfit. On the wall was a clock running backwards. It made me grin to the Lewis Carol homage. The outside entrance had a pleasing white and yellow-ochre "homey" feel. I felt comfortable. I wasn't sure whether I should simply walk in, knock, or I wait for a go-ahead signal. I stand there in my white costume as I reconsider the options. I decided to just walk in. I am a groan-up after all.

The front door led to a tunnel thich led to a little darkened room. It was suggested by the ambiance that I should just sit down because, at the moment, there didn't appear to be a door anywhere anyway. There appeared to be a somewhat obvious place to sit so I assumed that I should sit and wait. Maybe, like Disneyland, this is the waiting room before the little monorail cars stop and load me on. I anticipated that some kind of disinfectant would start spraying because we must be wearing these HAZMAT outfits for a reason. After a few minutes, I stopped worrying about it. I started appreciated that the floor was covered with waist high ping- pong balls which was rather comfy to sit on so I had no complaint just anticipation of what's going to happen next.

A heart beat rhythm began and the walls started to undulate slightly. When my eyes started to adjust to the dimly lit room, I noticed an opening in the ceiling with some string attached which looked like... hair? Not that I'm particularly slow on the uptake but I finally got that this was a simulation of the womb. Ha! An odd of way of starting anything well, I mean not everything, obviously. Suddenly, a theater- in-the-round began. Small video screens popped up around the ceiling of the room with footage of various scenes of life from play to war. Sound effects and voices started. They were indistinguishable other than they did convey the emotional quality of the scenes shown in this theater-in-the-round. Suddenly some footage of doctors and nurses appear on the ceiling. They are looking studious, pocking around and staring straight down at me. It made me giggle. This is just too silly. The ping pong ball room suddenly increases in its undulation. I had to grin, a bit more. It seemed a bit silly but still it's pretty cool.

Either the room rotated or I did but suddenly a door appeared. It was small door though so I had to kind of squat to get in. Although I know about Great Danes I thought maybe a lot of Danes aren't all that great and are actually small so the door might be the right size. At the entrance to this new room, an oversized mechanical hand descended holding candy in the palm. I took one and grinned. I took one, of course, and thought that was pretty funny. It was wrapped hard candy and not really Danish-like which normally is staggeringly good. The floor in the room was all tilted at random angles. Each black or white tile was tilted in such a way as to prevent me from walking standing up in a straight line. My options were to stagger drunkenly about the room or crawl. I opted for crawling. Randomly placed throughout the room were these tall, very tall, mannequin legs that gave the illusion they had disappeared at the top. Some kind of fog covered the ceiling. The legs were all clothed differently: young women, old women, old men, and young men. When, which invariably happened, I bumped into one of the legs a waft of perfume, or cigar smoke scented the room. I crawled around for a while amused by this engagingly surreal room. There was some unfamiliar soft chatter background sound. It was a comforting sound though with some soft laughter. At the far end of the room, after maneuvering my way through, an oversized mechanical hand and arm came down and blocked the exit. I simply crawled under it but I wondered if I violated some protocol. in fact, I wondered if I was being monitored now with hidden video cameras to check my reaction to things. Am I being scored or timed on how long I stay in this room? Too late now, I guess since I crawled under the arm into this new room. It was a dimly lit muted blue empty room but there was a rope ladder leading up to a room with a light. I paused wondering if I was back stage or in a "no visitors beyond this point" sign. There were no doors other the one I just came through so I shrugged my shoulders and decided to climb the ladder and into this window. Maybe that's what I'm supposed to do. If not, it would be fun to do. If I wandered back stage somehow that's kind of cool. The window turned out to be a window to the kitchen. It was a kitchen but a strangely bizarre kitchen. The faucets were big dripping noses. Oversized pots and pans hung from the walls. The ambient light was warm and inviting. I continued to notice that I'm starting to trigger a memory of being an infant. I was exploring and everything was new, a challenge, and it was fun and I was a tad apprehensive. In brief retrospect, the inability to walk and be somewhat ignored by those big legs was surprisingly fun. I felt like I just entered a new unfamiliar world which, obviously, I had but there was this sense of curiosity. What's around the next corner and in the next door? Now I'm beginning to think if I should have taken some of that candy or was that stranger danger? It couldn't have been. I just came in the room and assumed that's what I should do. Again, I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing this right. Now I'm in this odd oversized kitchen. Can I touch these oversized nose faucets just to see what they're made of? I couldn't stop smiling. In fact, I was anxious to see what the next room was. I didn't touch the nose. I simply have to stop wondering about this "Am I doing the right thing". It's interrupting the joy of this place.

The next area was a very shallow stream hallway with stepping- stones placed at a child's pace. They were painted individually in primary colors. Each step made interesting sound effects when I stepped on them. I just had to walk back and forth and hop from one to another. Some noises were melodic, others not so, and others were even a bit disturbing. I stepped back and forth trying to make a song like in that movie "Big" with Tom Hanks. I couldn't help but try and play a little tune. I'm not a musician so it was just fun making the sounds. After amusing myself for a while, I decided it was time to move on. Although I probably could play here for hours, I wanted to see what was next. This path led to a larger room with all kinds of lights and arcade-like games. The games seemed to have no purpose as I instinctively hit some buttons and watched the effects which were engaging with flashing lights with beeping and swirling sounds. Colors flashed and ball bearings moved around. Push any button and something seemingly random happens but then it snuck in again; this interruptive sense that I might be doing this wrong. I tried to figure out if there was a pattern that I should follow or is a real game. Then I though, does it matter? I accepted that it didn't so I just started hitting buttons and watched as they blinked away. Sufficiently amused, I moved on. The next room was a big living room with oversized chairs. It was a very comfortable living room with a fine Victorian edge, like someone's Grandma's house. As I looked around, a phone rings. I had to laugh again but thought maybe that's a "times up" call so I answer it. Answering it only makes sense after all. The voice on the other end was either talking a made up language or perhaps it was even Danish. Danish to me sounds almost like a David Lynch Movie where everything sounds backwards in English. I hung up after the voice finished, of course. Who knows they could be asking for my imaginary parents. At that exact moment when I hung up, letters came shooting through the mail slot on the door. Again, I had to laugh. It seems like I've been laughing a lot. The envelopes sliding in all had squiggle lines on them. I didn't open them. I didn't want to take a chance but in retrospect maybe I should have or at least take one as a souvenir. Of course, I knew better then. I left them on the table and walked down a hallway. At the end of the hall were two signs. One sign read "Boys", pointing one way and the other read "Girls", pointing in the other. Well, I really like girls so I turned in that direction. After a step or two, I realized that's probably not what this means. I wondered if I was re-experiencing my childhood and I just entered puberty. I wanted to see the girls. After coming to my senses, I headed for where it said "Boys" and it led to a boy's bedroom. It was a hide-away room, an ideal kid's room with a guitar in the corner and all of the stuff that little boy's dreams are made of. It was cool just looking around. A homework table, a cool bed, toys around. Of course some Lego bricks and some sporting equipment like a soccer ball. I'm sorry I mean football over here. I sat on the bed for a while and remembered what being a kid in his sanctuary was like. I finally noticed a little peep-hole in the side wall. It spied in on the girl's bedroom. Well, I'll be. What a genius idea. I'm sure it was simply designed as an ability to see what the girl's bedroom looked like and not for any nefarious purposes, although that too would be a boy's dream. I then opened the door and stepped on a slide. It slid me to the outside of the house. I grinned like a 13 year old. It felt like I had just revisited my childhood from birth to about 13 years old. It actually felt that way. It was a very refreshing feeling. In fact, it was inspiring and insightful of the experiences of a child.

It was now someone with the letter K in their last name to enter The Childhood Experience. I walked over with the same zombie-like stare as those who had previously entered and with the same big smile that wasn't going to go away that easily. There was a select few of us who now "know". Eventually we've all been there. Eventually we all briefly went back to our childhood. Later that evening we hung out at the bar in the hotel (Lego Hotel) where life sized Lego characters stood around. Paintings with Lego themes hung on the walls. Beautiful Danish waitresses that hadn't a clue what American money looked likes. I purchased a pack of "Prince", the local cigarettes, ordered a beer and we all started comparing notes. We were all inspired. One guy thought that it would be pretty cool to do it being high. Most of us agreed just as a concept though. We all agreed that it would certainly interrupt the effect though. The same guy actually had an opportunity to go in again but of course, not on drugs. The topic was brought up whether you took the candy or not when the big hand dropped down at the beginning. Some of us suggested that they didn't take a piece because of "Stranger Danger". Some of us assumed that the big people must have known us. They had to be uncles or friends of the family.

Next day we attended a few informational meetings and met the amazingly talented people that build life sized models. Barrels and barrels, racks and racks of Lego bricks are all around the room. In addition, along the edge shelf along one of the rooms were samples of the application builds to join the team. They were given a minimal amount of bricks from normal size to those real small ones. They made little scenes with a few characters created with the small pieces and 1 or two standard pieces. Again, it was amazing. One of our collective favorite was a back alley scene with a hooker or two and well defined trash. Not that it was our favorite per say but it was a rather unique solution. The modelers, needless to say, were artists in the most complimentary of meaning. They were also possibly the nicest people one could ever meet. Come to think of it everybody at Lego was with a few exceptions ( I will discuss this later on with names changed to protect the not- so innocent.)

Next day we took a short flight from Denmark back to London. In the lobby of the Danish airport was a rack of schedules. The Danish word for "Speed" is "Fart". We all grabbed a handful of "Fart Schedules". I mean, wouldn't you? I still have a framed "Fart Schedule" hanging in my bathroom. Somebody asked if Americans think farts are funny. Apparently, body sounds are a universally funny to kids everywhere. It's another common denominator of childhood.

Once In London, I packed up and headed for home. What was consistent and slightly humorous was that every time I went back and forth to London, my wife would pack my luggage. On my return trip nothing would fit. She has that magic that only women have. Somehow my clothes got thicker or something. I often found myself having to purchase another cheap bag. The trick is, apparently as I've been told, is to roll up your clothes rather than just tossing them in. This is just a clue if any of the possible readers of this plan on any traveling.

On the plane back, I started reflecting on the amazingly good fortune of finding myself in this position. Not sitting upright but I mean the reality of how did this happen. How did I stumble into what I wanted to since I was a little kid. Did I actually "follow my heart" and I got there? I think I actually did although it happened almost blindly. It happened as a kind of a Forest Gump-like accidental adventure. Sipping a rum and coke in first class, I realized that I should enjoy this now. It probably won't last. Nothing does. Today was possibly the happiest day in my career. It was all because of the making of Lego Island. It was a three year curious challenge from pitching the concept in New York, Connecticut, England, and Denmark to the final release in California. I was lucky enough to work with and be friends with the some amazing and the nicest people I will ever meet. We were a family for a couple years while we did everything we could to make this the best brand specific product that technology and we could provide. It was an immensely dedicated effort. Our spouses even liked each other. We would have BBQ's at our producer's house, meet at a bar and grill across the street from work, and laugh a lot. We had one idea after another. "Yes" meeting they're called where every idea is a good idea. Eventually ends up if it's a good presentation and if it's possible to accomplish. If it isn't, can something like it be done and that's what a team is all about. I never belonged to one like that again.

In November of 2010, after all was said and done, I started getting emails from a few kids and some adults telling me how cool they thought LEGO Island was. Some people actually still play it. I was quite thrilled by these emails and actually quite honored. I proudly reminded myself that I actually designed it, wrote it and was the Creative Director over fifteen years ago when technology was at its aggressive infancy. As explained above, I sure didn't do that in a vacuum but in many ways I was a Creative Director. Everyone on the team were the designers and, in fact, so were the kids that we focus tested with.

In retrospect, I'm stunned. Despite the primitive pixels, limited memory, and polys of the 90's, the product is still around. The product still works and does what it was intended to do.

These Lego Island fans found me through the internet. Over the next few months, more emails came in and they started asking questions. "What's supposed to be behind the door in the cave?" "Where did the Infomaniac come from?" "Is another LEGO Island coming out like the first one?"

After a few Email exchanges, they started sending me links to their blogs, their YouTube videos, and their homemade games with "borrowed" Island art and music assets. It felt strange seeing my characters in these other worlds like that. It felt like my children ran away or they were kidnapped. I realized, however, that it couldn't be any cooler. I'm proud that the story of Lego Island lives on and that the residents of the Island still inspire kids to have fun. I started reminiscing about the three year process it took. Although it was a great deal of fun, it didn't happen without the obstacles and the hooey of business. It made millions of profits for the companies involved and once it did, my team and I were thanked, fired and escorted out to pasture.

Towards the tail end of the product release, Mindscape hired a "Hatchet-man" to replace the existing CEO. A colleague brought in an article where the gentleman, the new CEO, had performed his task of taking apart companies and selling the remaining assets. The article from a Midwest Community paper asked the question: Where is he now? He was here.

One project team of Mindscape after another was "Let-Go". The eventually observable sequence was the company was taken to a free movie day. We began to notice that the next day another team was fired. The Lego team thought that we were protected because the project was looking, feeling, and getting positive feedback from the client and it was, afterall, LEGO.

The day before release, Mindscape fired the whole team. In those days, the industry tradition was that the team responsible for the development of a product would receive a substantial bonus providing that they stayed on until the day of release. The bonus was based on the pro-forma estimate of how many products would be sold. Lego Island sold 7 million units. Normally at that time, a good sale was around 10,000 units to a high of 100,000 units. The bonuses would have been pretty substantial. Firing the team the day before was quite the money saving strategy. There was no worry about bonuses or salaries. They didn't have to pay anybody. It was a brilliant business strategy actually. The day before release was usually a celebratory event for the team. We were called into the conference assuming the administration would say job well done, you guys did an amazing job and here's a gold Oscar- like award and a week vacation in Hawaii. Instead, we were told that we're all fired. I don't think I've ever been in shock but I was that day. All I could do is look at my shoes at first in clear depression. I began to just stare at blank air but my eyes caught this one administrative gent. He was a recently hired. He smugly smiled. I felt duped. I felt mugged. What concerned me the most was that my friends, my fox-hole buddies were now without jobs after a few years of dedicated. and loyal service. I was also hurt, of course, and it actually hurt me more to tell the truth. I was out of a job and had no knowledge what was going on in the employment world. I was busy for a few years.

Later in that year, LEGO Island received a Best Kid Product of the Year Award from the Academy of Interactive Arts and Sciences, Number one product in Family PC, and an award from the Smithsonian for innovation. I even had an interview with the local paper in San Francisco and Marin, a phone interview with People Magazine and requests for interviews from various blogs but nobody except technical or people who are adept at predicting the future took this medium seriously. I was neither a technical expert or could predict the future. I was simply a kid at heart and knew how to play. I was busy so I didn't notice.

After about 6 months of being unemployed and sending out resumes (this was the day of letters rather than E-mail), I got an offer. It was in Seattle, WA. That, of course, meant we had to move away from the city my wife and I loved for 25 years: San Francisco. The interview went great and I was hired. When I started packing to show up, the company, Sierra Online, called and told me that they had hired someone else as the Creative Director even though they had hired me but if I wanted to be, I could be hired as the Director of Creative Services. I accepted the position. It was really too late to say no. The Job itself turned out to be a really ugly mistake and this is a story in itself. Nice people and great company, I'm sure. I just wasn't too familiar with people arguing all the time and nobody on the same team. I guess it works for some companies though. The point of mentioning it was because of my position there, I was sent down to Atlanta for the E3 conference (Entertainment Electronic Exposition). This was the start of one of the best things that happened to my career since- well, since 5^th grade, I guess. It was one of those "when one door closes, another opens" expressions in process. At E3, I was approached by the aforementioned CEO of Mindscape who explained that firing everyone was just business and that the firing wasn't personal. "It was just good business." He smiled the sparkly smile that only a well-coiffed C.E.O. can give as he fires people. I ran into some of the administrative managers and they gave me a hug. They realized that the product put them on the map for a better sale of the company. The hugs were very nice. Later that day, At the E3 award ceremony, one of the V.P.s accepted the award for "Beat of the Show/Kid's Title". He was not the most gregarious fellow but he didn't have to be. He had good hair and good technical skills. At the award ceremony, he accepts it on behalf of the actual team. He said: "I'd like to thank the team that created this product but we fired them." I like a good joke too.

That weekend in Atlanta when companies display their new products in a circus extravaganza, Lego had a display diagonally from Sierra which was the company that I was misplaced in. What was surprisingly sad but at the same time shockingly thrilling was that on the Lego full sized screen was Lego Island. Circled around their display were shoulder to shoulder desk-top computers all with Lego Island installed. I decided to walk over and have an out-of-body experience. Every now and then, a person sitting staring at the monitor would ask a question to the person sitting next to them "Hey - how do I start this?"..."hey, what's that?" Obviously, having lived on the Island for years, I had to step in and explain the history and the secret spots on the Island. I simply abandoned my post at Sierra. No one noticed or even cared that I wasn't there. Their games were shoot 'em up games, fight the dragons, bomb the bad guys, and the increasingly popular First Person Shooter adventures. The winning difference between two products of the same genre is one has shinier objects, more weapons and grenades that can bounce in real physics. I didn't have much to say at the Sierra display. No one had many questions to ask- just pull the trigger and shoot anybody who pops up on screen. Interestingly enough, video games were developed for military training purposes. It seems to be working pretty well. Surprising how fast kids can learn. I'm more of fan of the "Play to Learn" mission of the Lego Army. I think of a Lego game more of an interactive experience and not so much as a game but a "Play to Learn" experience with the fun to make stuff up (and knock them down.)

At roughly the same time that we began production, Douglas Coupland wrote a charming fictitious story (Microserfs) about some imaginary developers working on an interactive product using LEGOs. He was unaware that in reality, someone actually was doing that. Today I decided to tell the real story. The truth is often more entertaining that fiction.

I was part of the non- fiction team of amazing people and artists of all disciplines. I had the honor of being the designer, writer, and Creative director doing everything I could day and night for three years until final release. Despite the fun and comradely of the creative process, it wasn't all a game...

Mindscape on paper looked like they were incredibly successful. The financial charts zoomed off the page. These misleading profits of Mindscape made them look like a pretty good company to buy. The trend at the time was to build up a software company to the point that you can sell it. These guys did a pretty good job at it. They were ready to sell. There was a trail of one company being sold to another: Broderbund, The Learning Company and etc. Allegedly, it eventually ended up with Mattel. The only catch was Mattel was now selling a LEGO product which complicatced the corporate books. Eventually, Mindscape dissolved into a distribution center with a surviving camp in France. I suppose it was a good time to sell off the company.

CHAPTER TWO - On Your Mark, Get Set...

In 1994, a handful of artists moved pixels around on what was, at the time, some pretty hot P.C's. It had Intel Pentium 1 processors, 75 MHz, 16 Mb RAM, and a CD ROM drive. I actually have no idea what that means really. I just googled what the hot PC of the 90's was. Apparently I had one.

I was on the art staff. Most of us were Techno-Amish at the time. We just knew how to draw. A few of us had previous computer experience but that was never the major qualification for an art department staff in those days. It was more important if you were an artist. We sat glued to our monitors in the Art Cave. The Art cave was a large dark room back in the day when software companies would put artists in a kind of internment camp where management would only approach with great caution. For several years we used primitive art and animation technology that was pretty similar to Grandma's needle point; one stitch at a time, one pixel at a time. We sat in eccentrically decorated cubicles. Strange contraptions from Archie McPhee's novelty store, plastic plants, and childhood toys filled most of our Levittown office neighborhood. There was a starting core tribe of 6 of us. We were a perfect sociological balance according to a theory of group dynamics. A pretty "free spirit" kind of woman, a quiet funny guy, a conservative woman, An excellent artist with a somewhat shady past, and the Art Director who was most charming with a slight hint of dizziness... oh, and me. The department slowly expanded but this was the starting core group. I was the last of the core group hired and I really wasn't too skilled at this new digital format (yet). Irreverent animations of established characters, jokes, and silly over-the neighbor's- cubical conversations were our culture. Artists at the time were the "necessary evil" for most programmers although often placated by some that we had a very important job. Most of the programmers seemed to anxiously be waiting for art-droids to be invented so they could minimize the social contact with some of us. They simply told the artists what to do but always followed it with "but you're the artist". My favorite follow up instructions were "make the colors pop." "you should decide but it should look something like this." In the beginning of video games, programmers designed the concept, the game and would often insert "programmer art" for us to follow. They would leave the production to the artists but really, you couldn't risk the artist to be in charge of anything important. Lord knows what they'd do. It was a cultural issue. Sarcasm was a common language. We could, of course, after loyal service rise to the position of "Art Lead." It was a noble title in lieu of a raise. I was an art lead for a project at the time for a presumably revolutionary product called the 20^th Century Almanac. It was revolutionary for its time because it was a century of important dates that when selected would have historic videos and film. This was a great gregarious group of programmers and producer, a rarity in the biz.

Around this time, the administration was starting to notice that the industry was evolving. A specialized trend was taking place and there was industry talk of the "Hollywood Model." it seemed to us that the Hollywood Model meant that the directors are now going to start getting new cars, maybe enjoy cocaine, and have greater scandals. Maybe some did, besides it was just our in- joke but on the other hand maybe it wasn't. We didn't really know. We didn't really have many casual conversations with the administration at least I didn't but there was a lot of new cars in the parking lot popping up. The Hollywood Model did suggest, however, that maybe desighers should design, writers should write, and programmers should program. The downside now with this new Hollywood Model was that the Art Cave tribe may be replaced with project teams. Would the two cultures collide? We didn't know yet but we did know that Urban Renewal had just hit our small artist community. It was part of the Hollywood Model, after all, and the company had to keep pace with the industry in order to survive. The game was changing. Nothing fails like success and Mindscape was on the top of the heap for a while. They had to step up the pace. Suddenly a miraculous 3D program called 3D Studio entered the industry. It was a user-friendly (within reason) industry explosion. This was a small step for mankind but an awkward leap for artists. The company needed to get us trained on this system and get new high-profile clients to survive now. The administration decided to start pitching major corporations. Someone in the management back-room clandestine meeting suggested LEGO. Mark was the head of the newly formed Home and Kids division. He asked the guy in the cubicle next to mine, who had just transferred to the art as a former programmer, to make a 3D LEGO brick. Although he was a programmer he desperately wanted to enter this mysterious Druidic world of the artist because he thought it would mére fun than work. He soon discovered that it really wasn't. It's actually a job. He broke in this new technology of 3D software for us since he knew more than <Dir> and save in DOS. He made a rectangle with 6 little bumps on top and it could be moved around like magic! We were blown away. The rectangle just spun around in circles and eventually we just got bored watching it spin but we imagined the cool things that could be done with 3D capabilities. There were, however, 3D systems prior to this but they cost about a half a million dollars or more. I actually did have the pleasure of messing around with one when I had a prior job at stanford University. It was called a Bosch. The same company that makes thé spark plugs but we all assumed it was made by Hieronymus Bosch. It was the most difficult thing to use imaginable, at least for me. There was the Cray also which was legendary and could render things that belonged in science fiction movies. It was used mostly for medical training but it cost excessively more than a half a million. The cool thing about this new 3D system (3D Studio) was that it could be on an individual's PC at a somewhat reasonable price, at least affordable enough for companies to buy. You had to have a dongle though. I'm still not sure what that stands for although I recently heard it simply was the initials of the guy who invented it.

Our department programmer turned "artist" was testing out 3D Studio for us daily. He wasn't the most creative add-on to the computer though. The administration realized that they needed to put together an engaging kid-friendly way to build LEGO things on the computer but a junior Cad-Cam just wasn't it.

The next day Mark approached me with an assignment. Whether it was because I was the next cubicle over from the programmer/artist or else he noticed that I had just finished moving some pixels around for a Mario product or the programmers were too busy and I was available. I like to think because the bosses thought I was the right guy for the assignment. Perhaps they were impressed by my resume and knew that on the weekends I was writing and performing in a local comedy radio show that I put together with a bunch of my friends. It was more fun than funny but we did have it aired weekly. Whatever the reason, I was asked to come up with some ideas on how one could make this LEGO-build project a bit cooler than just a spinning brick. He explained that they were going to try and pitch LEGO as a possible client. I congratulated myself on the way home.

I never had LEGOS as a kid. I think they weren't really around in the states in the 50's, at least in the rural communities in upstate New York which is where as a little kid, I played with every known toy there was. I understood what they were though. We had American Building Blocks then. They were kind of like LEGOS but they would fall apart easily. I had great fun building walls and off-center houses and then knocking them down by throwing clothes pins at them. The war of animals against WWII and Civil War toy soldiers would take place in this tipsy village. It was really cool playing this with someone else because we would each have defensible positions on opposite sides of the room. We called it "Knock-Down Men." That was my gut reaction to playing with pieces that fit together. The ability to build something so you can knock it down was at least half the fun. Maybe that's what you can do with Legos. I'm looking forward to investigating further.

The day Mark assigned me to that speculative project was one of the coolest thing that had happened in my career in quite a while. Today I was allowed to come up with ideas. I felt that I was entering some secret Masonic order called Lego.

I was one of those "creative types" that liked or had to doodle since the first grade. I think I still am. I was never a programmer. I was never really friends with numbers. I think I'm still not. Being asked to have some ideas in this burgeoning video game industry is incredibly rare for someone who didn't even know how to spell C++. I originally wanted a career in Art because I always liked to make up stories and draw goofy drawings. It's what I did and my peers seemed to like them. It was my currency. What a cool opportunity to finally do that now and get paid well for it. Years of doing production for somebody else's ideas may have finally paid off. Now I have the chance to tell a story, a fun playful one. The idea could be like when I was kid playing. It often seems like the best ideas I ever had was when I was in elementary school and it simply took years to articulate those ideas to the adults- the groan-ups as I called them. I can make LEGO a real place and the user could be a LEGO character; a POV. Maybe I could even make a war between animals and Nazis like I did as a kid. Nah, probably not. Just building with the LEGOs on a computer did seem awfully silly to me though. Why would you want to do that on the computer? What, are your hands busted? That's what's cool about the actual Lego pieces. You can just move them around in real time as fast or as slow as you want to and you can invent anything you want with them and knock it down. It needs to have a way that you can only play on the computer not a duplication of what you can do without it.

How would one play with a LEGO on the computer? I thought about that day and night. I dreamt about it. Learning to play seemed counter-productive to playing. I thought that multimedia should use multi media. Not a very radical thought, granted, but it had to be something better than just clicking buttons. I was told that this product is from Denmark. I think that's why they weren't around when I was a kid. I heard that they were just too dang expensive and Denmark was further away in the 50's.

I was given a LEGO catalog showing some character and buildings so I sketched little rough- scenes which simply had a few LEGO guys walking around. One of the managers gave me a box of some of the Lego brocks with a little character, mini-fig. I learned later that that's what they call them: Bricks and mini figs. Quite frankly, I was kind of disappointed with the LEGO characters at first because I was used to playing with toy army men as a kid and they were a bit more anatomically correct than these hunks of hard plastic but maybe it's a Danish-thing. I only knew about Denmark because of Great Danes and breakfast treats so maybe these Lego characters were actually how they looked. I debated the pros and cons of this product as I was busily sketching out more LEGO guys walking down a street. It wasn't really a concept though. It was just an idea to play with them rather than build them. I drew some from eye level, their eye level walking through parks and in buildings. If we could do it in this fancy new 3D it would be extremely cool. It would be much cooler than the ol' standard animation program with pixels the size of your head. After a few of'what I thought were engaging sketches, The Dept. Director came over and he seemed to think we might be ready to at least talk with LEGO. He told his boss who told his boss and so on until I got a green flag of sorts. I was asked, well told actually, to attend a meeting with some of the senior groan-up staff. It was in the conference room and I thought this could be my chance to present myself as one smart guy with great potential as a hero of the company but I think I came across as one of those art people but a little more nervous. I started babbling on about what jobs I had prior to starting to work here, trying to impress the administration. I ended it with some seemingly Shakespearian line "I say this not as an introduction to me but rather to offer some credibility to my uh..." Then I just mumbled my way out of my self- promotional speech. Some guy sitting across from me gave me one of those looks that seemed to have said "what a dork" so I wisely sat and listened from that point on. At the end of the meeting, some guy with a knowing nod and a disarming smile introduced himself and wanted to know if I went to Stanford. I had in my mumbled blabber stated that I worked at Stanford. I wasn't a student there though. This guy went to both Stanford and UC Berkeley, historic rivals of each. I was impressed that he escaped without being shot at from either side. It turned out that he had a Ph.D. in child development. He actually made me feel like a real person and not so much as a fleshy function of a computer which most appreciated. He was the education expert in the building in some secret cave somewhere. He was going to the Toy fair held in New York City to talk with LEGO and I was asked to come along. Nothing was planned with Lego. We didn't have a formal sit down appointment with them as far as I knew. We were just going to try and talk to someone on the floor at a toy fair! I never heard of such a thing as a Toy Fair. It sounds pretty neat though. Incidentally, as a kid I use to say "neat" all of the time when something was cool. Anyway, The Toy Fair is traditionally held in New York City and "if we made it there, we could make it anywhere." - a night in a very plush hotel which is a definite perk of being sent someplace by a business it turns out. Breakfast was gourmet-ish but I discreetly threw up in a napkin because of my nerves. After breakfast we took a cab over to this event. I was blown away by all of the costumed cartoon and toy characters in the front of the building. The place was packed. We maneuvered our way through an enthusiastic crowd of the toy fans, agents, inventors, salesmen, and tourists. We began our expedition for our search of LEGO.

On the second floor, tucked in a corner was a tidy display shelf of pirate ships, little houses, and airplanes in bright primary colors. A contrasting neutral suit man with darting eyes and an apprehensive smile as though he was anticipating a restraining order or a hit man to show up stood nearby. Our educational expert of Mindscape, being the disarming gent as he is, approaches and appropriately introduces us. He explains that we're representing Mindscape from Novato, California. The guy in the suit brightened up and actually seemed interested. He was possibly relieved that we were adults or liked the word California, a lot of people do. He says his name is Chuck and explains that LEGO is not really in the business of making video games and a bunch of companies, hundreds, have already approached them and they have all proposed these building with LEGO programs on the computer. We sell bricks and these toys and he swings a Vanna White arm over the shelves. Paul (Note: I decided to use his name now) explains that we could actually increase the sales of the bricks with this product. He elaborates on "how one cannot replace the tactile experience of the actual brick. This is different. Our idea is more of a story, an interactive adventure." Paul introduces me as the artist and I do my awkward best to add a few nervous statements about enhancing the LEGO experience. Chuck seemed impressed and gives Paul the phone number of the guy at the Headquarters in Connecticut. He suggested we call and set up an appointment. We left on a really positive spirit with smiles that were difficult to knock down, Paul was pleased that we may have scored. I was pleased that I didn't act too much like a goon. We celebrated with a huge sandwich at the Carnegie Deli, one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

When we got back to California I was asked to continue the best assignment that I've had in years: to come up with more precise, more immersive, fun ideas. This was an incredibly fun task because this is what I do and now I am free to do this and...get paid. I went to art school because I enjoyed, often to my detriment, making things up and drawing since I was a little kid or did I already say that? I know I did because I say it often. I think to rationalize why I didn't become a doctor, a lawyer, or a programmer. Actually, I spent my childhood doing this in addition to playing guns in the woods. I felt at the time that I was, at best, a mediocre illustrator; maybe enough to get a job though. I didn't have lessons. I just had the passion. I had to go to Art School after an obligatory Liberal Arts degree. I realized one rarely chooses what they are and I was an artist....Finally, after an obligatory two degrees with one at Art School, I was ready to enter the real world. I thought advertising or sdmeplace where I could be creative would be a perfect. It would satisfy my degrees in behavioral sciences and art. It would make me feel almost normal. The jobs I could get was just doing production (back when there was such a thing) and mostly for everybody else's ideas. I tried being a "wrist" which we called a job where one's brain isn't really required. It got to a point when I realized that if one really wants to work in the business of being creative than it's best to go into sales. They seem to have that job of having ideas and telling the art department what they and the client wanted. I didn't though. I hung in there.

I think I just lucked out. I couldn't quite figure out how I ended up in this Forest Gump-like opportunity right about the time I was ready to admit defeat. I was accepting the fact that I'm not really all that good. At best, maybe I'm an average artist but I decided that I should hang on for as long as I can. I'll wait until someone finds out that I'm really not that good and asks me to go home and grow up. At least, I'll have a good story when it's over but really it was just about to begin. I had an amazing almost accidental career start.

Now at Mindscape, the company and its commanders were quite encouraged that we (well, Paul actually) got an inside number to call. I assumed, because of my low self-esteem, thought that I'll be asked to go back to moving pixels around though and they'll take it from here. It was just the way the industry worked and that's the way the game artist's job was in 1995. Surprisingly, I was asked to work on the concept some more while they set up an appointment with the Connecticut offices. I eagerly started out by finding out what these Lego things look like. I started checking out what the Lego characters are capable of doing. I was still kind of stubbornly closed minded about it at first. They just weren't the kind of toy that I grew up with. I mean, they can't engage in any kind of war and you certainly can't chew on these and no way can you set them on fire as easily. These yellow faced plastic guys with happy faces on them can move their arms up and down, which is kind of cool but rather useless, really. You can take them apart and mix up the pieces though which is cool. It is designed for building things. I noticed that I spent an hour or so doing just that and was getting increasing engaged by a handful of bricks. Maybe they are kind of cool after all.

During this time, we moved into a newly constructed, personalized corporate Mindscape building. Not that it affected the project in any way but I did get a cooler cubicle and there were better vending machines available. It was a moral builder.

The race was on. The appointment was set. I had to make the next level of rough ideas to bring to Connecticut. I started expanding on a Lego world. I started sketching Lego cars, people, and the hustle bustle of a Lego town. No game play per say just a place to play around in the computer. Maybe you can walk around and meet some people and buy things or maybe build houses and knock them down. It was ready to go at least for a starting idea. Approved by upper management, I was asked to go to the Connecticut office and present concepts to the North American offices. Our Department of the newly formed "Home and Kids" Director, a rather gregarious V.P., the child development doctor, and me, an artist who finally gets to have ideas take the long flight from California to Connecticut. We got there pretty much in time to crash although I had to order room service and watch TV. The local news had a segment about the Connecticut State Troopers who had just won an award for the best uniforms in a national competition of sorts. On the way out in the morning as we took the elevator, a State trooper gets on the elevator on the next floor. Everyone but me looked down at their feet. I, on the other hand having seen the news, said "hey, nice uniform." He smiles back and said thanks. Everyone else with raised eyebrows looked at their shoes. When we got off the elevator, my colleagues were more than stunned that I had been so bold as to say that to a cop. Another notch in my "should we have brought him here?"

One the front lawn of the North American Lego headquarters was a rather large Lego model of the White House. It was very impressive. The lobby had an oversized Lego Brick about 4 feet high. That was also very cool. With the best confidence we could muster up, we walked into the conference room where several suited people sat somewhat stoically. Usually in most client meetings, the conversation starts with the "how are you's". One suit turned out to be rather cool despite the overwhelmingly corporate grandeur. He was relaxed because I found out later it was his last two or three weeks. He was changing jobs to Readers Digest. Today's meeting, he mentioned Rhinebeck, NY. My grandmother lived there and I use to spend a lot of summers at the Dutchess County Fair as a kid. We immediately bonded with talk of this pleasant town and the fair. The table lightened up a bit. I had few sketches with me but the majority of the conversation centered on previous and ongoing Mindscape projects, facilities, and the quality of the staff. The concept was accepted pretty well. It wasn't a how you build something in Lego on a computer screen. My colleagues at the time explained in managerial terms how this would not compete with their products but, in fact, would increase sales. It was quite an effective pitch. Everybody seemed pleased although I can't really tell with management sometimes. They're usually pretty good actors. The senior staff of Mindscape was quite convincing at this meeting. I would have even hired us to do the project providing we had a good programmer in charge. They seemed like they were very impressed. The meeting concluded with "We'll call you." This, to me, translates to "The check is in the mail." We did get the call, however, and it was a "Go". We were to meet the Lego group in England in 2-3 months. The senior staff was pumped because of the possibility of getting a Lego contract. I was asked to come along again! I was asked to continue working on a concept and roughs. This is getting really exicting. One the VP's involved was really an effective, efficiently grown-up but with a surprising addition of being a human. He was known as Greno. I was obviously thrilled because I get to continue to do what I really wanted to do and, in fact, simply had to do: tell stories and draw silly pictures but you already knew that. I eagerly started thinking of an approach. I decided that it might be cool, given the age it's really intended for, to leave it open like a toy: a toy with gaming features. The program shouldn't have any rules or a specific direction that you have to go to with fear of death. There's no end to the game. You should be able to go where ever you want to and come back. Building and knocking down stuff seemed important. What if you check into a hotel and you can just go into town or the woods and just meet people and- I don't know- do something. It should be a toy because kids just want to play and Lego seems to be about just messing around and making up things.

I enthusiastically spent night and day just thinking about Legos. I started sketching out little scenes and options. Here's how you can knock down things. Maybe a big foot kicks it over, or you can blow it up with a dynamite brick. Then I drew a guy checking into a hotel...No, wait- what if you're the Lego character so you're at eye level and you check into the hotel. Another one was a guy walking along a street with another guy approaches him on a street with part of building in the background. I took these sketches and finalized them with markers on vellum, mounting them on Foam core with the obligatory flap. This was a presentation that varnishes with a coating of credibility. Put a company sticker on the front of the cover sheet and it looks like it's real. In between doing this, I did have other tasks, of course, working on a Mario Deluxe project making little building of different countries which was actually fun. We had to go to the library and find out how different houses and villages looked in other countries. One of my fellow art cave neighbors showed me some cool rendering tricks in the now archaic software. I had fun drawing some cool buildings or at least I was happy with them. It also gave me the opportunity to keep thinking about Lego as well as I moved pixels around. The company started hiring more artists. A new kid in town was hired since the workload was increasing did a really cool couple character sketches. Several more artists joined the core team now. The new kid was pretty cool and really talented. He had a friend from the same art school he went to who was a pretty unassuming kid and then in came a rather peppy girl who was rather a "good- looker" as my Grandfather use to say back in the ol' days. Finally, a really good friend of mine from Art school got hired. I felt rather proud because I recommended him and really proud because he was the best illustrator I ever met. H's name was, or still is, Jim, We called him Jimpy because his E-mail name was Jim P. The guy was great. He still is, I assume. The art cave was expanding.

Sometime in between doing Mario Art, I received the news that we're going to London. I was thrilled and excited since I've never been overseas and there's a possibility we're in the finals and I made the team. I spent some of my summer college years exploring America when most people I knew in the 60's did the European backpacking thing. I did discover that we have actually about 50 countries in our country though.

I was really getting pretty excited that I'm being sent over to Europe. I was beginning to feel special but suspicious because I suspected that a programmer will take over sooner or later. I did know that, at least for now, this is an opportunity. I'm going to England! I did, of course, had to get a passport which was a bit of a wait in line for several hour but I felt like I was a world traveler, a global jet-setter. Consulting my Boy Scout Check List, I started packing days before departure.

A cool administrator ( a rarity ) named Greno, who was one of the two extremely technology, presentation, and charismatically savvy V.P.s, met me at the airport. We were meeting Paul and Mark at the gate.

CHAPTER THREE - Across the Pond

Manuscript ends here

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