The Making of Prince of Persia: Journals 1985-1993

An Uneasy Quiet

OCTOBER 18, 1989

Ten minutes before three a.m. I woke up and lay in bed, foggy and apprehensive. Waiting for the shaking to start.

Then it shook – or rolled, or rumbled – and I lay there with my heart racing, not sure if I’d dreamt it. I got up and turned on the TV and waited for them to say something about an earthquake, and when they didn’t I went back to bed.

I couldn’t get back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, the next one hit. That one gave the building a good shake. Now I’m sitting out here in the living room in front of the TV, listening to the audio from KCBS and the calls coming in to confirm the times and magnitudes: 4.2 at 2:53, 5.0 at 3:14.

The weirdest thing is the way you feel them before they hit. It’s like when you’ve been on a boat all day, and you go to sleep that night and as you’re drifting off you feel the pitching and rolling just as if you were still on the water.

□ □ □

The big one hit yesterday, just after 5 pm. I was home, at my Mac. When the shaking started I got up and stood in the doorway until the CD I’d been listening to (¡Oye Listen! Compacto Caliente) started to skip. The power went out. The SPA Karateka plaque fell. The bookcases moved away from the wall. CDs cascaded onto the floor. Car alarms and other alarms started going off down in the street. I couldn’t believe it when I heard later on the radio that it had only lasted 15 seconds.

It stopped and I stood there dazed. The window opposite mine went up and the building manager’s face peered out. We looked at each other until he went away. There was smoke and sirens and people were pouring out into the streets. I felt an overwhelming urge to get outside. As I passed the hall table I stepped around Tomi’s huge mirror, lying shattered on the floor. I hadn’t heard it fall.

I took the stairs down. Huge cracks had appeared in all the walls, including over my doorway, and there was plaster on the carpet.

Downstairs, I met the manager and two girls I’d never seen before. The tall blond one (from 201) put her hand on my shoulder and said “Are you OK? You look terrible!” Soon there was a little group gathered in front of the building. In ten minutes I’d met more of my neighbors than in fifteen months of living here.

The blond girl had a Walkman and passed on information as it came in. We didn’t know how bad it was or when it had struck. For all we knew, LA had been leveled and we’d just felt the tail end of it. The numbers started coming in: 5.5, 5.6, 5.9. The baseball game was called. The traffic flow picked up – back to normal rush hour. The car alarms and smoke alarms stopped and everything was quiet. Only there was this strange dark cloud on the horizon over Oakland.

I went upstairs and checked the damage. The phone and power were still out. I rejoined the people outside. Bob (the manager) and Larry (the owner) were making a quick inspection of the building. I wondered where Tomi was. She’d been supposed to meet Rob Finkelstein in Menlo Park to watch the game on TV. I looked around and there she was, coming down the sidewalk. I’d never been so happy to see someone.

We sat in her car and listened to the radio. When we heard that some buildings had fallen down south of Market, and a 50-foot section of the Bay Bridge had collapsed, it finally started to sink in that we were in the middle of a major event. By now they were calling it 6.9 or 7.0.

I took Tomi upstairs and showed her the damage. She was impressed. It seemed like it would be a good idea to get out of the city, but the radio was telling everyone to stay put, and the prospect of getting stuck in a mass exodus of bumper-to-bumper traffic was not appealing. In the end we decided to risk it. I felt very disloyal, walking out the front door past my fellow neighbors with a suitcase. “Gettin’ out of town, huh?” said Larry the building owner, with the contempt of a true San Franciscan. “Smart.”

That drive was scary. All the signal lights were out, and rush-hour traffic through the Presidio was heavier than usual. I didn’t know if Tomi had gone ahead or was waiting behind; I cursed myself for having let us get separated. It seemed like a real possibility that traffic would grind to a complete halt (was the bridge even open?) and we’d have to abandon our cars. If that happened, we’d never find each other. As I came over the hill I saw fires burning in the Marina.

Then, with relief, I saw Tomi had pulled over on Lyon St. Once we got on the Golden Gate Bridge it was smooth sailing. We went to her house in Mill Valley and sat watching the TV news coverage as the incredible footage started coming in. Me with a growing sense of loss at having left the city, wishing I’d stayed to be part of it. But it was good to have power and food. We went to the movies, in the earthquake-proof Sequoia Twin.

OCTOBER 19, 1989

Back in the city. Took a walk down to the Marina to see the burned-out buildings and make sure Larry Hing’s was still standing. (It was.) The power was still out in places, and a lot of streets were closed off, but by and large it looked like people were going about their lives as usual.

The extent of the damage in my building: no hot water, no elevator, no lights in the lobby or stairwell, and the fire escape is sealed off as a “Restricted Zone.”

NOVEMBER 20, 1989

NYU film school application arrived. I’ve started to fill it out. How terrifying.

Robert is in town. We drove to Berkeley for dinner. (Crossed the Bay Bridge for the first time since the quake.) He’s euphoric at having escaped the industrial park and started a new life at Yale. That’s part of why I’m so eager to go to NYU.

NOVEMBER 21, 1989

Virginia called to give me the post-mortem on In the Dark. She is no longer involved. She says James Alex is crazy and self-destructive and they could have made this movie, but he blew it by getting involved with the Abramoff brothers, and so on.

NOVEMBER 28, 1989

George called and asked if I wanted to fly out and drive from Texas to L.A. with him this weekend. I said sure, why not. It’ll get me out of the house, and give me the chance to check out some film schools.

NOVEMBER 30, 1989

[Texas] Sitting on the curb outside exit C-2 on the upper level of Dallas Fort Worth airport. My plane got in at three, I missed the 3:30 bus, and the next one doesn’t leave till 5:30. It’s a two-hour bus ride and I’m not even sure of being met at the end of it. I have no way of contacting George. His phone has been disconnected, and who knows if he’ll get any of the messages I’ve left at the Texasville inn. In other words: a typical George situation.

DECEMBER 1, 1989

Spent the day with George and Cindy getting the last few shots for George’s documentary. Rusty Lindeman, celebrated wildcatter and first citizen of Wichita Falls (and the model for Jeff Bridges’ character in the movie), and his daughter took us out to lunch.

Rusty said: “I’ve never paid rent or made a payment on a house. Never in my life.” As in, why pay good money to live in someone else’s house when there’s so much land around and you can build one yourself? He gave me a toothbrush. “The dentist gives me one ever’ time I see him, and they just keep on building up in the glove compartment of my pickup.”

DECEMBER 2, 1989

[Albuquerque] Freezing my butt off in the McDonald’s parking lot, waiting for Janice Kim to show up. She works nights at Video World down the block. We’re going to have a cup of coffee and then hit the road again.

George wants to drive straight through the night. I think he’s crazy. We’ve been on the road since 8 this morning and he’s snoring within 30 seconds every time he closes his eyes. If he falls asleep at the wheel we will both die.

DECEMBER 3, 1989

[Pasadena] Yes, you read it right. Despite all my resistance, George wore me down and we drove straight through the night. We took turns napping in the passenger seat, stopping only once (I pulled over to the side of the road 100 miles from LA, just before sunrise, and slept for an hour). We pulled up in front of the Castle Green Apts. at 8 a.m., 24 hours and two time zones after we left Archer City.

DECEMBER 4, 1989

With George in L.A. Checked out AFI. I’ll still apply, but I’m pretty sure I’d rather go to NYU. I didn’t get a sense of the excitement or community of a large university. It was just a beautiful bunch of buildings in the Hollywood hills, next to a Catholic girls’ school. When class is over you go to the parking lot and get in your car and drive to the Hamburger Hamlet, or home, or something.

DECEMBER 12, 1989

[Back in SF] A great review in Computer Gaming World, by Charles Ardai. He called POP “the Star Wars of its field.” I’m quoting it heavily in my resumé. Also got a plug in Bob Schwabach’s syndicated column, which should help Christmas sales.

Alan Weiss, back from Japan, says Tosei is eager to do the Game Boy conversion but is waffling on Nintendo. We discussed the possibility of doing Sega and NEC versions instead. It’s a tough sell. In any case, Game Boy looks like it’s happening, which is great news. They can’t start till March, but they hope to finish by June.

Danny Gorlin has offered to do the Amiga conversion.

JANUARY 10, 1990

Larry Turman agreed to write me a recommendation for NYU. He thinks NYU and USC are the best schools. His son Andrew just started at USC.

Prince of Persia won “Game of the Year” from Computer Entertainer magazine, according to Brian.

JANUARY 11, 1990

Made a six-minute demo tape of POP on the Broderbund video editing console, to submit to film schools. It took me six hours.

Late dinner with Roland at Marin Joe’s. We stayed past midnight discussing our past and future in the industry. I proposed that when he’s done with Print Shop Companion, we start a software company together. I’ll design the games (starting with POP 2) and he can program them.

The truth is, I like going into the office every week. I’d go crazy if I had to sit at home all the time. Anyway, it’s another gumball in the gumball machine of life.

I pitched Bill McDonagh on Amiga POP. I asked for $20,000 advances, to pass on to Danny Gorlin.

“Can we collateralize it against your other royalties?” he asked. I said sure, why not. He beamed like a kid: “What a guy! Even I can’t think of a reason to say no to that.”

JANUARY 16, 1990

Stopped by Broderbund to pick up my December royalty check: $4,000.

Scott and Nicki came by. They’re already six weeks behind on the Mac conversion. I broke it to Nicki that her graphics weren’t good enough and we’d have to get someone else. She was crushed. It was terrible. I’ve never felt so awful.

JANUARY 21, 1990

Idea for POP 2: Shadow Man! I even drew up a sketch for the package front. It shows the Shadow Man standing alone on a craggy cliff, backlit by the full moon. It’s bold, as sequels go. But will it play in Persia?

JANUARY 25, 1990

A week of Broderbund days. Monday I signed the Amiga contract with Danny Gorlin and had lunch with Ed Bernstein. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I spent sitting at an IBM screen pushing pixels in an attempt to get Jim St. Louis’s EGA versions of my original Apple character animations to look decent.

Jim’s work is dismayingly bad. I’m not sure he’s saved us any time at all. I’ve got no choice but to redo it. What at first seemed like a fun thing to do for a couple of days has turned into a massive project. Three days, and I’m burnt out and not even half finished.

Brian and Lance are thrilled to have me coming in every day, even though it’s for a bad reason. The first day, I worked in Lance’s room, the last two in Brian’s. Brian in particular is happy as a clam. We just got another rave review (Nibble magazine), the customer response cards are uniformly “Excellent,” the IBM version is starting to come together… and now that he’s got me under his wing, he’s confident everything will go smoothly.

Dad delivered his new music, which he and Tom Rettig are both pleased with. (Dad: “This is the first music I’ve written that I’ve really liked.” Tom: “This is the most exciting project I’ve ever worked on.”) Even Lance likes it.

Doug brought Ken and Roberta Williams by today and I showed them IBM Prince. (Ken: “Great animation.”) Doug then explained that he was losing me to the movies, and that in an effort to forestall this he’d written me a bad recommendation for NYU.

Alan Weiss has been removed from the job, putting Prince’s future on NES and Game Boy temporarily in doubt. Dianne Drosnes is taking over licensing. Tomi and I have already talked to her. A Nintendo license might mean an advance of $150,000, and again that much in royalties… enough to pay for three years of film school… so it’s worth politicking for.

Getting Prince onto as many different formats as possible (maximizing my future income stream) is all very well, but what’s really grabbing my attention these days is the potential for something bigger. Dad’s suggestion that I make a franchise out of Prince sequels, Doug’s offer that I captain a new graphic-adventure line for Broderbund, and my own idea of starting a company with Tomi, Roland, or Lance, are all sort of churning around in the back of my mind; I’m just waiting for them to coalesce into some really irresistible form.

JANUARY 26, 1990

The character animations for IBM Prince are a big job. I’ve put in thirty hours this week and I’m barely halfway through. It turns out that what I’m doing is not, as billed, a “polish” of Jim St. Louis’s work, but a complete overhaul. In some cases I’ve even had to go back to the Apple originals.

I hope Jim doesn’t notice that all his work has been redone when he sees the published product. I actually feel worse about the possibility that his feelings will be hurt than I do about having wasted time and money paying for work I’m now having to redo myself.

It’s all coming together. Sound effects, music, graphics. Tom Rettig, Dad, and Leila have outdone themselves; they’ve given this project the best work they’re capable of, and more of their time than Brian or I had a right to expect.

This is going to be the definitive version of Prince of Persia. With VGA and sound card, on a fast machine, it’ll blow the Apple away. (In contrast, none of the Karateka conversions was as good as the Apple original.) If it makes its new April release date, it’ll be shown at Computerfest in May. I hope so. God, I hope it’s as big a hit as it deserves to be.

Everything seems to be going right. The Apple version hasn’t received any marketing push as of yet (and is selling a lackluster 500 or so units a month, as against 1,500 for a normal Carmen Sandiego title), but the reviews have been glowing enough to hold everyone’s attention. Everything depends on how the IBM version sells. (IBM Carmen is selling 5,000 units a month.)

In three months we should have some idea. The waiting is driving me crazy.

This isn’t such a bad business to be in. Now that I’m going to leave, I’m starting to miss it. It’s more fun now that I’m not programming by myself. I think it would be fun to start a software company to make games, or educational games.

But how can I do that while enrolled as a full-time graduate student at NYU? To try to do both at the same time would be folly. I don’t want to short-shrift NYU the way I short-shrifted Yale.

I don’t want to spend another three years moving pixels around, even though it would be fun. I want to make movies.

I’m so confused.

JANUARY 31, 1990

Another Broderbund week. I’m so tired of coloring in these frames, I see paint in front of my eyes when I fall asleep at night. But it’s worth it. Two weeks of back-aching work, away from the new screenplay, is a reasonable price to pay for an IBM version as spectacular as this one is turning out to be – especially since the same graphics will be used in the Amiga, Atari ST, and CPC versions.

And it is spectacular. It fulfills all my hopes of what a VGA version might look like. With its 3-D shaded backgrounds and cleanly drawn animated characters, it looks like a Disney film. I think when people see it with the new characters, they’ll flip out. John Baker stopped by Lance’s desk on his way out, and was stunned by the opening sequence with the new music. “That is hot!” he said, a most un-Baker-like utterance.

Politically, the situation couldn’t be better. IBM Prince of Persia is being touted as a test case, an example of what the Broderbund in-house machine can do. If it hits, it’ll be a vindication of all John Baker’s efforts during his tenure at Broderbund to develop an effective system to run PD.

The truth is, in this case the “system” benefited from a lot of unofficial work by the original author – if I’d spent the past seven months off in Europe and Dad hadn’t done new music, it would have gotten done just as fast but it wouldn’t have been as good – but that’s irrelevant. It’s better for it to be viewed as an in-house triumph rather than mine. That perception will help ensure that it gets a fair shake in QA, marketing, promotion and sales.

FEBRUARY 2, 1990

Another lackluster month for Apple POP sales: 600-odd units. This in a month when Karateka sold 200, Wings of Fury 400, and Ancient Art of War 700 – in short, it’s selling no better than the old, established, dying Apple II games that came out a few years ago.

In the same month, the Apple version of Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego? sold 15,000 units.

It’s frustrating. The reviews all say it’s the greatest Apple game in the history of the world. Where are the 15,000 Apple owners who bought Carmen Time this month? Do they read those magazines? Do they even know this game exists?

Patience, Mechner. It took seven months after release for Karateka to have its first big month (June 1985, 12,000 units). POP has only had four.

(But POP sold in at 3,000 units. This means the stores haven’t been reordering. Why not? I can’t shake this fear that something terrible is happening –- that it’s going to die.)

Relax. The IBM version is on its way. What happens with the Apple II version won’t matter so much.

God, I want this game to be a hit so badly. It’s the best game I know how to make. As far as I can see, I’ve done everything right. If it doesn’t become a hit, I don’t want to be in this business any more.

At least I’ve applied to NYU. But if POP isn’t a hit, how am I going to pay for it? $13,000 bucks a year! And the cost of living in the city…

The IBM version isn’t going to ship till April. Three months. I’ve got to get my mind off this somehow.

Like, by finishing my next screenplay.

By the time Deathbounce died, I’d already forgotten it. Four months after Karateka shipped, when it was looking like a dud, I felt only mild disappointment – I was concentrating on my schoolwork.

If Prince of Persia fails, it’s going to take the heart right out of me.

I want to travel to foreign countries. Someplace exotic and romantic that’s completely different from the USA. India maybe. China. Russia. If I don’t do it now I’ll never be able to do it again – not the way you travel when you’re young: looking for answers in everything, hoping to fall in love.

FEBRUARY 5, 1990

Another day at Broderbund. Today I didn’t even get to work on the graphics. All I did was meet with people: Henry Yamamoto (NEC 9801 version, looking good after three months’ work; possibly other Japanese versions); Dianne Drosnes (game machine licensing); Roland (3.5" Apple II version; we fixed the bug that was causing all the trouble); and, of course, Tom, Lance, and Leila.

The IBM version impresses everyone who sees it. I’m feeling very confident.

I also talked to Jim Alex. He told me that I was going to be a hot property very soon and he wants to make my next script as well. That he had a first-look deal with Paramount, but that he left the lot because it was too much trouble to find parking, and is now close to making a deal with not just one but two other studios, MGM and Universal. He said: “I promise you this movie will get made.” At around this point it dawned on me that I was talking to a man on the verge of a complete psychological breakdown. It’s not only that I don’t believe him, it’s that it’s logically impossible for all of his statements to be true simultaneously.

Meanwhile, Larry Turman sent me a copy of the recommendation he wrote me for NYU. Warm and glowing. Now there is a producer, and a gentleman. He may not be riding a hot streak at the moment, but I’d work with him again in a second if the chance presented itself. The more experiences I have, the more I realize that working with people you like and respect is more important than anything else.

FEBRUARY 8, 1990

Got a call from Jack Abramoff, Jim Alex’s backer on In the Dark. He asked if I could write a synopsis of the story for him. He also asked if I had any casting suggestions for the lead teenage girl role. He seemed like a nice guy, even though everything I’ve heard is to the contrary. He told me he’d made Red Scorpion.

“I’ll have to rent it,” I said.

He laughed. “Don’t bother. Unless you’re a Rambo freak.”

VGA IBM POP went into QA on Tuesday.

“It’s Dying Out There”

FEBRUARY 22, 1990

Dianne Drosnes hailed me in the parking lot and told me she was following up on POP and, in addition to Nintendo and Game Boy, would try to license it for a coin-op.

FEBRUARY 23, 1990

Broderbund ten-year anniversary party.

MARCH 5, 1990

Today was a glorious summer day. I got to Broderbund in time to go with Brian, Rob, Dane and Ed to China Camp for a picnic by the bay.

Saw the new NEC 9801 Prince from Japan. It’s beautiful. It blew me away. What a great feeling. As Lance said: “It’s like seeing the movie version of a book you wrote.”

Doug came in all excited about making Prince of Persia Roland MT-32 compatible. Nice thought, but it would mean slipping the release date. We talked him out of it, but just barely.

Apple Prince sold fewer than 150 units last month. It’s dying out there. This is unbelievable. Laurie reported to me a remark made by Latricia T., Marketing Manager: “It’s only an arcade game, and arcade games don’t sell.”

Time for me to take Latricia to lunch.

If only there were some way of harnessing Doug’s enthusiasm and putting it to use.

What I need is simple: (1) A marketing push for the IBM version. (2) Licensing to game machines.

Latricia and Dianne, respectively, hold my fate in their hands. And neither of them knows anything about computer games, or has any idea what makes this one special.

MARCH 6, 1990

Drove to Forest Knolls where Danny Gorlin lives. He showed me his setup. We had lunch in Fairfax. It was a nostalgic day, recalling everything the software business once meant to me, and I’d write a lot more about it, if I weren’t going to Cuba.

MARCH 7, 1990

Roland came over for breakfast and we installed an extra 1 MB in my Mac. Roland tested it out by creating an 8,000-page document in MS Word.

MARCH 9, 1990

Lunch with Latricia, Sophie and Jessica. Latricia didn’t seem to want to talk about Prince of Persia, so we talked about my Hollywood adventures instead. It’s true what Laurie said: Latricia doesn’t like this game. Even Sophie and Jessica are enthusiastic, but to Latricia, it’s an arcade game, and “arcade games don’t sell.”

A really good review by the Game Wardens.

The 3.5” version of Apple POP finally signed out of QA today.

The IBM version is down to the last few bugs, and O God, it’s a thing of beauty. Playing it is a pleasure, even for me. It’s the most beautiful game I’ve ever seen. And I’m not the only one who’s saying that. If this version doesn’t sell 100,000 copies, there is no justice in the world.

Dianne stopped by and told me she was submitting it to Konami. Thank God she’s in there trying. I hope they sell a few before the bottom drops out of the cartridge business.

The tension is just about unbearable. This game should be a major hit. It should sell 250,000 copies. In the best case, if it gets licensed to game machines and coin-ops, I could end up making over a million bucks. Alternatively, everything could just… fizzle.

I won’t really know till May. Two more months.

NYU called to say they never got Doug’s letter of recommendation. I had to call and ask him to write a new one. I think it annoyed him. He’s also probably annoyed about the Roland MT-32 fiasco, where he tried to do me a favor and thanks in part to my lack of enthusiasm, it blew up in his face.

MARCH 27, 1990

Got a $2,000 check from James Alex, renewing the option on In the Dark.

IBM POP signoff looks imminent. I invited Lance, Leila, Brian, Tom and Oliver to dinner Friday to celebrate.

MARCH 29, 1990

All versions of IBM POP have signed out. Hooray! On the horizon: Amiga and Mac. I’m worried about Scott. It’s almost April and I still haven’t seen an alpha version.

MARCH 30, 1990

Prince of Persia IBM celebratory dinner at Butler’s. Lance, Leila, Brian, Ollie, Tom and me. It was a lot of fun. I paid. They were grateful. It was a good thing to do.

At the company meeting they unveiled the promotional campaign for Wolf Pack. Brian and I are seething with jealousy. It makes me sick to think that Prince of Persia hasn’t received even a tiny fraction of the attention (or money) they’re lavishing on this product.

Latricia T., once again you stand between me and perfect happiness!

Brian, John Baker, Tom and Leila would love to have POP 2 as an in-house project. If I’m going to be off at school, it would be a comfort to have it sheltered under Broderbund’s wing.

APRIL 3, 1990

A perfect spring day. I drove out to Danny’s to see Amiga Prince. He’s on schedule! Brian is still maddeningly skeptical. Danny must really have traumatized everyone on Typhoon Thompson to engender such distrust.

A great piece of news: Tandy’s decided to stock Prince of Persia. They chose it over Wolf Pack – HAH! Take that, Latricia! (Steve Dunphy wrote in his memo to Brian: “Even though Latricia came with me, they decided to order 11,000 units. Imagine how many they would have ordered if I’d gone alone.”)

As Brian pointed out, on the strength of this one order, IBM POP has already outsold the Apple version 2:1.

MAY 25, 1990

Lunch with Lance today, and a meeting with Ann Kronen about Prince 2. She’s not willing to commit to a sequel until Prince proves itself in the IBM marketplace – i.e., until its trajectory makes it clear that it will sell at least 100,000 units.

I reminded her that I’m going to NYU in the fall, so if I don’t do it this summer, I won’t be free to start until next June at the earliest. This left her unmoved.

Lance, meanwhile, assured me that he’ll do it… in his spare time if necessary.

Everyone is unhappy. Product managers are leaving in droves. Broderbund is going down the sink. Doug is travelling.

Prince just got a rave review from the largest entertainment magazine in France, Tilt (“the great Jordan Mechner, author of the unforgettable Karateka”… gotta love the French), which nobody at Broderbund will even bother to have translated to find out what it says. Tomi had to translate it for me.

It also got a good response at a “focus group” test Don Panek and Alan Weiss ran at the Northgate mall yesterday afternoon. I dropped in and watched the kids play it through a one-way mirror. All the kids said that if it were available on Nintendo, it would be one of the top two or three cartridges on their shopping lists.

But I’m more worried than ever that despite the incredibly enthusiastic reactions from the few people who’ve seen it, this game will sink without a splash. People at Broderbund don’t know what they’ve got. And I don’t see what more I can do that I haven’t already done.

I sure hope NYU lets me in. I don’t want to spend another minute here.

MAY 31, 1990

Dinner at Royal Thai with Tomi and the French interviewers from Tilt who interviewed me the other day – Dany Boolauck (the most famous computer journalist in Europe, according to Dominique) and Jean-Michel Blottiere. It was a lot of fun. We stayed late drinking beer and talking about the software industry, Europe and America. It’s been a long time since I met two such enthusiastic and interesting new people. It was a pleasure.

JUNE 2, 1990

Those bastards! They turned me down! NYU said No!

Ann Norton thinks what probably happened is that since my application wasn’t complete till several months after the deadline (because Adaire lost Doug’s first letter of recommendation instead of mailing it), they’d already filled all their slots. This might actually be true.

Shit. Now what do I do?

JUNE 7, 1990

I moved out of the attic at 47 Paul. There was a full moon in a bright blue sky with clouds drifting past it. I felt like I was saying goodbye to Broderbund.

It was melancholy, being there at night with an empty desk and all those ghosts. Tomi was there too, sifting through the wreckage of Sensei. I called Robert in L.A. to ask him what I should do with his stuff, and we fell to reminiscing. It wasn’t such a bad year-and-a-half. Actually, I remember it quite warmly. But thank God it’s over.

Driving away, I felt strangely light, as if throwing away all those papers had set me free. I felt ready for the next thing, and oddly happy. I told Tomi this and she said: “I guess you’re more optimistic because you’re younger. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s your basic personality.”

I’m never going to have an office at Broderbund again. It was fun but now it’s done.

JUNE 11, 1990

I sent Prof. Charles Milne at NYU a Fed Ex box containing a sheaf of game reviews, copies of POP and Karateka, and a letter begging him to let me in.

Spent Friday at Broderbund. The conversions are moving ahead (Danny is at beta, Scott is at alpha). Francesca and Jessica reported from CES that all kinds of reviewers and journalists came up to them, unsolicited, and praised Prince to the skies. But IBM Prince still isn’t selling. The reasons most often cited are: (1) it’s a conversion (the Apple original having done virtually nothing, the IBM version is left to twist in the wind), and (2) the box stinks (it’s an old-fashioned flip-top, and stores don’t like those).

Maybe word of mouth and favorable reviews will rescue it in time for Christmas. But I’m worried.

Prince’s chances of becoming a hit and my chances of getting into NYU both seem a lot slimmer than they did a month ago.

JUNE 18, 1990

Meeting with Don and Alan to renegotiate the royalty terms for Nintendo and GameBoy Prince. Ed Bernstein was absent, even though he’d asked for the meeting, so all Don and Alan could say was that they’d talk to Ed and get back to me.

In a nutshell: My contract (negotiated in 1986 with then-director-of-product-development Ed Bernstein) gives me 10%. Now they want to add a clause allowing them to deduct the cost of goods, which would effectively bring the royalty rate down to 5%. If I don’t agree, Broderbund probably won’t do Nintendo versions. So I’ll probably end up having to swallow it.

JUNE 20, 1990

Just found out something interesting from Alan Weiss. He says SunSoft is interested in licensing Prince for up to four formats (NES, GameBoy, and in Japan NEC and Genesis). But they’ve been told to wait while Broderbund New Ventures considers doing it themselves.

This puts things in a new light. If you look at the bottom line (as opposed to what strategically benefits New Ventures), both Broderbund and I would actually make out better if they take the SunSoft deal.

In a continuing effort to gather meaningless statistics about my own life, I figured out that I’ve spent about 3,800 hours, or the equivalent of two years’ honest work, on Prince of Persia over the past four years.

JULY 3, 1990

Prince sold 500 units last month on the IBM, 38 on the Apple. That’s about as dead as can be.

JULY 6, 1990

Charles Milne called to say this year’s NYU class is overfull and there is nothing he could do for me even if he wanted to. So that’s that.

JULY 15, 1990

Broderbund Picnic Friday. Corey showed up for it. Six years since my first one.

Robert submitted D-Generation to both Broderbund and EA. EA called him almost immediately and said it was “really hot.” Way to go ‘Bert!

It’s agonizing watching Prince fight for life.

I can’t walk through the halls at Broderbund without getting congratulated by people from QA and Tech Support I’ve never met before, telling me what a great game it is. Denis Friedman says it’s getting great press in France. I even got a call at home from some kids in Columbus, Ohio, who were stuck on level 12. But when are stores going to start stocking it? When are people going to start buying it? AAARGHH!

I don’t care if Prince does die. I’ll bounce back. Sure, I could use the money, and it would be nice to be vindicated for the last four years of work; but I’m young. Most people my age have no savings at all and have never had a success like Karateka – or even In the Dark, such as it was. And some of them are going to become successful screenwriters and directors. So I have just as good a chance as they do. *sigh*

Failure really does weigh on the heart. Even the shadow of failure weighs, a little bit.

I hadn’t realized how spoiled I was by Karateka’s success. If I’m going to survive as a filmmaker over the long haul, I’d better learn to deal with failure a lot better than this. Maybe I need to care less about commercial success and concentrate more on fulfilling my own artistic goals. Spending a year hanging out with impoverished intellectuals in NY might be a good thing.

Clinging to Life

JULY 18, 1990

Dinner with Tomi and Florence in Mill Valley. Florence thinks Prince is going to be a big hit in Europe. And some rather startling news (from Doug): NEC Prince has already shipped 10,000 units in Japan. Could that be?? It’s only sold 7,000 units each on Apple and IBM in the U.S. to date.

JULY 20, 1990

After Spanish class I drove to Forest Knolls to see Danny, who’s just about finished with Amiga Prince. Then, back at Broderbund, sat around Brian’s office for a companiable three hours drinking champagne and beer with a group that eventually dwindled to Brian, Rob, Lance and myself.

“I’m tired of hearing about the good old days of Broderbund,” Rob said, when we went out for Mexican food. “I think of the ‘good old days’ as when Robert was here.” It was just how I felt.

A new review came out in PC Resource magazine that calls Prince “one of the three or four best PC games ever.”

Meanwhile, the new Broderbund entertainment catalog relegates it to half a page towards the back, between Centauri Alliance and Joan of Arc.

I’ve got to start learning deep-breathing meditation exercises, or something.

Karateka was a gift from the gods, a windfall. Without it, I couldn’t have done any of this. I’d have had to get a job like everyone else I know. The question that nags at me is: have I made good use of this opportunity? Or have I blown it?

I feel like if Prince fails, I’ll be a failure.

No point looking back. What can I do now? I can do what I can to help speed the Mac version of Prince, and try to encourage Broderbund to:

license it for Nintendo and GameBoy

bundle it with SoundBlaster

change the packaging

advertise it

and, in general, try to galvanize the powers-that-be into giving it the attention and promotion it deserves.

JULY 21, 1990

Pink Floyd is tearing down the wall in Berlin. I want to be there.

Basically, I want to be young and European. Or even young and Central American.

JULY 27, 1990

Since its release in Sept. 1989, Prince has sold 9,741 units. In the same period, Karateka – a five-year-old game – sold 9,645 units. That’s pretty sad.

More irritating facts:

I walked into Wherehouse Records the other day and they’d never heard of Prince of Persia. Wings of Fury they had, Wolf Pack they had, but not Prince.

Ten months after its release, Prince has yet to be licensed to Nintendo, Game Boy, or any other game machine. In short, we’ve missed a year. If it gets licensed now, it’ll be as a Christmas 1991 title. This delay is solely attributable to Broderbund’s waffling.

The other day at the PD25 Xerox machine, I happened to see the tossed-out first page of a letter to U.S. News and World Report, presumably from someone in marketing or PR, saying “Enclosed is some information about Broderbund’s new games…” and listing four or five, including Wolf Pack, but not mentioning Prince. I learned this out of turn, so I can’t very well complain, but this says a lot.

Prince gets only half a page in the new entertainment catalog, sandwiched between acknowledged duds.

Encouraging facts:

Reviews are uniformly raves.

Tandy has ordered 12,500 units.

SoundBlaster is interested in bundling Prince with its sound cards.

Tomi and Florence reported that Egghead Software was sold out of Prince, and that the salesman said: “It’s moving.”

NEC pre-orders of 8,000 units in Japan.

I’ve decided to move to NY anyway. I don’t need NYU. I can spend all my money and go into debt making a couple of crappy short films all by myself without their help.

Matthew Patrick’s Graffiti was awesome. It sustains my faith in the short film as a worthwhile medium. It was better than most of the features that came out of Hollywood this summer.

JULY 28, 1990

Robert called yesterday. He’s being courted by two publishers and has just sent D-Gen off to a third. (Broderbund turned it down, in the person of Ann Kronen, who proclaimed sweetly: “We don’t do action games any more.” Ha ha.) Good for Robert.

I can’t help wishing I’d had the good luck to have Prince rejected by Broderbund so I could have taken it to a publisher who might have actually marketed it… No, I’m not that cynical. Yet.

Broderbund has done two conversions, IBM and NEC, better than I had a right to expect. And EA probably would not have offered me an 8% royalty on the IBM version. If Prince takes off now, I’ll have no cause for complaint.

But these last four months have made me bitter.

JULY 31, 1990

NEC POP sales are up to 9,000.

Latricia is pursuing the SoundBlaster bundling opportunity. She’s hoping to get $8/unit.

Sophie has put in a request for advertising funds.

IBM POP sold 1,350 units in July – four digits!

Henry says there’s a lot of interest in Japan in doing a sequel.

Tom Marcus says the Japan sales have raised interest in licensing. He’s already gotten a call from Dianne Drosnes (who’s now at Sega).

Maybe there’s hope.

AUGUST 3, 1990

Brian showed me a LAN message from a sales rep saying “Prince is the hottest thing in Phoenix! Prince of Persia fever is spreading! Do we have any more games coming up by Jordan Mechner?”

Also got a fan letter from Malaysia.

Please God, maybe it’ll be a hit after all.

AUGUST 6, 1990

Scott came in with the new version of Mac Prince. We’re not going to make Christmas, but at least it showed some tangible improvement. We decided to use the NEC graphics.

Lunch with Doug. He was sorry about the letter of recommendation, and that Prince isn’t doing better. I told him it wasn’t his fault. He’s excited for me that I’m going off to make films in New York.

AUGUST 7, 1990

Latricia’s resigned as director of marketing. I learned this at lunch today with her and Sophie. The instant she said it, I felt a sudden flow of good will toward her for whom my heart had hitherto held only hatred, and for the rest of the lunch I was cheerful and charming.

It’s true her departure will leave a void in marketing that will probably mean that nothing gets done for the next six months; but still, better incompetence than malevolence.

A two-page spread on Prince in PC Computer Gamer’s Strategy Magazine. Sophie and I read it together. It was a rave. It was also one of the most thoughtful reviews I’d read. It was clear the writer had played the game all the way through. He appreciated the things most reviewers tend to overlook in favor of the great graphics. Maybe this will inspire Sophie to do some marketing.

AUGUST 8, 1990

A pleasant lunch with Ed Bernstein.

AUGUST 10, 1990

Went to lunch with Robert and Presage – Dane, Scott, Steve Ohmert, Ed and Chris – in Richmond. Got Scott all jazzed up about Mac Prince.

AUGUST 24, 1990

[Back from New York] My first day back and I’m already desperate to get out of here.

Checking in with Broderbund was, as usual, infuriating. Another great review. A bunch of fan mail. And the chilling news that one major chain, Electronics Boutique, has recalled the title due to lack of sales. (“It’s a great game, but the box was horrible,” explained the saleswoman in the mall.) I don’t know how much more of this I can take before I throw a fit in Doug’s office.

AUGUST 31, 1990

Another pleasant lunch with Ed Bernstein. I cheered him up about his career prospects.

Virgin Mastertronics wants to license Prince for NES and GameBoy in the U.S. Virgin’s not a big force in the Nintendo market, but that’s still the best news I’ve heard in a long while. Both Alan and Ed Bernstein have pledged their assistance. This time, I’m not going to sit by and let the deal fall apart through lack of (Broderbund) interest as happened with SunSoft six months ago. I need the money!

Broderbund’s also had an offer from Japan – two offers, actually – for the Sega rights there. Things are finally starting to look up.

Also, the Tandy order shipped: 12,000 units, doubling in one stroke the IBM sales to date.

The bad news: It’s true. EB has de-listed and recalled Prince in all formats.

SEPTEMBER 20, 1990

I’m writing this, believe it or not, in the cab of a Ryder rent-a-truck going 65 mph down I-80, driven by Roland Gustafsson. We’ve just crossed into Nebraska and are determined to make Omaha tonight.

Back up a few days…

I caught Doug before I left and expressed my concerns about Prince’s marketing. He was surprisingly sympathetic. Before I’d even had a chance to complain much, he agreed with everything, and right then and there put out a message to Sophie K. on E-mail suggesting that they redo Prince as a candy box. “I can’t really lean on her any harder than that,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry – I feel so powerless.”

I dropped by Sophie’s office too, and expressed some of the same concerns I’d expressed to Doug. She was infuriatingly unsympathetic. She was happy to chit-chat about my trip to New York, my life there, etc., but when it came to Prince – forget it. I left her office with steam coming out of my ears and my face hardened into a pleasant smile.

She didn’t even have the decency to commiserate, to say “Gee, it’s too bad this game isn’t selling better.” She as much as told me that 1,000 units a month is all this product deserves to be selling. And this is the product’s marketing manager speaking.

After that I had an even more upsetting meeting with Brian, of all people. He told me that Ann had offered to pay $2,500 of the (estimated $15,000) cost of the Mac POP graphics, not a penny more, and I’d have to pay the rest out of my pocket. I gave him all the arguments as to why Broderbund should pay half the cost, at least. We argued for a while and then he said, in the heat of argument: “We just can’t justify spending that much money on a product that we don’t even know for sure there’s going to be a market for.”

I almost blew up, but then I saw the expression on Brian’s face looked so miserable, I couldn’t bear to continue. I knew he was just repeating what Ann had told him. Prince has no better champion than Brian. He’s been fighting for a year. He’s powerless, that’s all.

So we agreed to continue the discussion later, and I went to lunch with Rob. My last Broderbund lunch.

Today, from a pay phone at a Wyoming truck stop, I got Ann to agree to pay a third of the graphics cost and Presage to agree to pay a third. My share will be deducted from my royalties (cross-collateralized, at Ann’s insistence). Fine, as long as it gets done. I just hope Leila can do it all without me there to guide her, and without going over budget.

Brian says they’re desperate for Prince in Europe. Domark showed it unofficially at CES in England and it made quite a stir. I hope they can get their respective acts together and release it sometime soon. It’s already been pirated on the Amiga.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1990

Brian said: “You know what? Sophie walked into my office this morning and said ‘What would you think about reprinting the Prince box as a candy box?’ Of course, I said ‘Why yes, I think it’s a fine idea!’ I’ve only been begging her to make it a candy box for the past twelve months. Something must have happened to make her change her mind. Maybe because Latricia left, now she’s finally starting to make decisions on her own.”

“Maybe,” I agreed.

I guess Doug still has a little bit of pull around Broderbund.

New York

SEPTEMBER 23, 1990

We did it. Thanks to Robert and Roland, I’m in my new apartment, surrounded by all my stuff. It’s like a dream – to be in New York City, and to be home, at the same time. The city is lying out there waiting to be conquered. I’m so happy to be here.

I’d write more, but I have to get up at 4:30 am to report to Kevin’s for the first day of shooting. I’d feel better about it if I weren’t already about 19 hours short on sleep and every muscle in my body weren’t already sore.

SEPTEMBER 25, 1990

First day of shooting. After this past week, I suppose it’s only fitting that my job as “production coordinator” should turn out to consist largely of carrying boxes and equipment up and down stairs, loading and unloading vans and trucks, and driving them around the city in heavy traffic. Such is fate.

It’ll be character-building. One week of this, I can handle. And if my goal was to meet NYU film students, I’m certainly meeting a lot of them.

My boss is Deborah, Kevin’s girlfriend and production manager. Then there’s Rick (assistant director), Nick (D.P.), Steve (assistant camera), Rob (gaffer), Paul (gaffer and Kevin’s roommate), Mark (sound), and Marcy (boom). And the actors.

Man, it’s different, having a boss. Deborah is the type who makes sure you’re sorry for every little error. The others I got along with better, although Mark and Marcy (the sound team) do seem to spend a lot of time bickering. In the van on the way home, Rob asked me if I had any short screenplays for him to direct.

Two days of rest at this point would do wonders. Unfortunately, that’s not in the cards. My alarm is set for 4:20 am to drive back to Brooklyn.

I can’t even think about the big issues, like that I’ve just moved to a new city and am sharing an apartment with my brother. I just don’t have the mental energy right now.

Virginia wrote to say she’s getting married.

SEPTEMBER 26, 1990

16-hour day, most of it spent driving around in the van. To wit: pick up dogs and trainers and bring them to set; drive to ambulance rental place and take Polaroids of ambulances for Kevin; drive to midtown Manhattan to pick up insurance certificates; drive back to Garfield Place, make pot of coffee, bring it to set. I spent at least two hours stopped in traffic in the rain on Broadway and on Flatbush.

Today was frustrating, but I have to remind myself why I’m here: To (1) help Kevin by making his shoot go smoothly any way I can, (2) earn my entree into this NYU-film community, (3) learn something about student filmmaking. So there’s no point resenting Deborah for, say, sending me on a wild-goose chase to Manhattan during rush hour when a simple phone call would have determined that the trip was unnecessary, or for keeping me so busy with errands that I hardly get to spend any time on set. It’s all part of my education. Like boot camp.

David read Bird of Paradise and pronounced it much improved. I should show it to Kevin when the shoot is over. And Cindy. And Irv. It would be good to get some professional opinions beyond friends and family.

SEPTEMBER 27, 1990

Really enjoyed today. I got to spend the whole morning on set in Prospect Park. I decided to shadow Rob, the sound man. I asked him a few questions and he was happy to explain everything and even let me listen through the headphones. I bet I could learn to do sound pretty quickly. (Maybe I could do sound on Rob’s thesis film when he shoots it next June?)

I’m finally starting to learn my way around Brooklyn. The filmmaking aspects of this job aside, it’s a great way to get to know a new city fast. I’ve lost my fear of driving in New York. After these three days, nothing can faze me.

I can’t believe it’s been only three days. It seems like a whole epoch in my life.

I need sleep.

SEPTEMBER 29, 1990

Yesterday I left the set early (2 pm) to take care of some of personal stuff like: opening a bank account, getting renter’s insurance, touching base with Broderbund, etc. I did it all in a single afternoon. Thanks to this film shoot, I’ve reached new heights of efficiency in my own affairs.

Today we shot interiors at Garfield, and I picked up the first dailies at Precision on 9th and 45th.We watched them in Kevin’s living room. They looked great.

Yesterday Deborah gave me a blistering lecture: “Why does everything seem to be so confused with you?” It’s true; having spent the past several days as a gofer, I now have a much clearer idea of what skill set and personality would make the best fucking gofer in the world, and I’m not it. Listening to Deborah lay into me, it occurred to me that she’s not the greatest production manager in the world, either, and needs all the help she can get. Once I took that attitude, things started to get better right away. I think we’re on the road to a passable working relationship.

Rob Sherwin gave me his treatment to read.

Three hours of sleep coming up. I can’t wait.

OCTOBER 1, 1990

Yesterday we shot in the subway.

Today was Steadicam day. I made my screen debut as Bart’s friend who comes to pick him up. I got to wear a suit and tie.

Tomorrow is my last official day. Deborah is begging me to stay on.

OCTOBER 3, 1990

Spent my day off setting up my bedroom and office, buying household items, etc. It felt strange not being on the shoot. I guess I really should stick it out until the end. It’s only one more week.

Deborah had this to say about NYU: “They say it’s a three-year program, but it really takes five years. You can expect to spend $2,000 on your first-year film, $10,000 second year, and $20,000 third year. Add that to three years’ tuition, and you’ve spent a hundred thousand dollars. What I would do, if you have the wherewithal – I mean, three years and $100,000 – is spend those three years working for free on every film shoot you can. At the end of it, you’ll know how a film gets made; everybody will owe you favors, so you’ll have a crew; the equipment rental places and the labs will know you, so they might give you a deal too. Take the $100,000 and make a feature! Then you’ll be a filmmaker.” She sighed and said: “But no one ever does that. They come around like you’re doing, and ask a lot of questions, and I tell them what I just told you, and then they go off and enroll in the program.”

OCTOBER 4, 1990

Ambulance/extras day. It rained. I’m definitely coming down with a virus.

I promised to work tomorrow (half day) and Tuesday and Wednesday. Deborah was thrilled.

OCTOBER 6, 1990

The phone man came yesterday and changed my life. Three weeks of calling people from pay phones, and I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to have a phone in the house. Any time I feel like talking to someone, I can just pick up the phone and call. Wow. An amazing luxury.

Talked to Roland, Ann Norton, Robert, Brian, and, this morning, Tomi. I also bought a modem and hooked into Broderbund’s QuickMail system.

What will I do when this shoot is over? Put a final polish on Bird of Paradise, of course, and send it off. Start thinking about ideas for short films. Start working on the Prince 2 design. The Mac Prince graphics. And maybe, just for fun, rent a 16mm camera and shoot a roll of film…

OCTOBER 8, 1990

An expensive day. Acquired a CD player ($270) and a Mac color card and monitor ($1,000). But it had to be done.

Robert read Bird of Paradise and really liked it. It was very gratifying.

Tom Marcus called to bring me up to date on Nintendo licensing. They’ve been stalling Virgin in hopes that a major Japanese player will make an offer. Hope they don’t lose the whole thing.

OCTOBER 10, 1990

Shoot’s over. Mark Netter was hilarious during dailies, doing ad-lib voice-overs that had us on the floor. The wrap was quite emotional, actually. Rode home with Mark, Nick Sigman and Jenniphyr Goodman. “I’m gonna get so depressed,” Mark said. “Post-partum depression.” He and Nick tried to cheer themselves up by blasting Rockabilly Classics.

Finally met the elusive Jackie Garry, who everyone has been telling me is from my hometown. To my relief, she’d hated high school. “Couldn’t wait to get out of there,” she said. Saved me from a round of whatever-happened-to.

OCTOBER 11, 1990

Two DHL packages arrived this morning, one containing a spanking-new color monitor, the other one from Brian containing Studio 8 and Macromind Director. I downloaded Leila’s latest graphics via QuickMail (90 minutes for 6 screens). Happily, they look good.

NOVEMBER 16, 1990

I’d forgotten how gloriously warm and sunny New York can sometimes be for a few days in late fall, just when you’re getting resigned to winter.

Asbury Film Festival. The best were “Balance” from Germany and “Lunch Date” by a Columbia film student.

A lady named Claire Edgeley called me from Domark (UK) to say how excited they all are about Prince and to request publicity materials. We set up an appointment for a phone interview with a British journalist on Tuesday. Exciting!

NOVEMBER 19, 1990

David and I spent the day fooling around with the new video camera. It’s an amazing piece of engineering. I hadn’t realized the technology had come so far. Compared to the VHS camcorders I used for Prince of Persia, it’s utterly tiny, and delivers a warmer and more consistent color image than I’d thought possible without special lighting. Could definitely shoot a movie with this… If only it were possible to edit it!

NOVEMBER 26, 1990

Larry Turman called to tell me his thoughts on Bird of Paradise. “You’re a good writer,” he said. “I thought so before and I think so now. What a damned unusual story you’ve written! Where in tarnation did you come up with that?”

He doesn’t want to produce it. “Don’t ask me why. There’s nothing I can really point at and criticize. It’s all of a piece; it hangs together… Why do I want to produce one movie and not the other? I don’t know. It’s like picking out a tie. It’s so damned hard to get a picture made, as you know at one remove from In the Dark. Maybe my head liked it a little better than my heart.”

He said he’d give it to his partner to read, and also offered to put me in touch with some agents if it doesn’t work out with the ones I sent it to. What a guy! He didn’t have to be that nice to me.

NOVEMBER 28, 1990

Good news from Broderbund on two fronts. It looks like the sequel is going to happen. And, the Virgin Mastertronics deal has been signed! They hope to have both Nintendo and GameBoy cartridges out by Christmas ’91. Maybe I’ll make out OK after all.

DECEMBER 12, 1990

Brian sent me an Amiga computer so I could look at what the competition is doing. I went out and bought Shadow of the Beast II and played it for a good four hours, most of that time spent waiting for it to load. Nice parallax scrolling, atmospheric music, and a smashing opening sequence that makes me ashamed of every review that ever called Prince “cinematic” (because what Prince is, really, is theatrical). Beast II is also insanely difficult, and the 45 seconds it takes to restart every time you die makes it infuriating to play. Yet it’s the #1 Amiga game right now. Maybe it’s the adventure element that people find appealing. If there were some way to get that into Prince 2…

DECEMBER 13, 1990

Deep in game design mode. Tomi offered some good ideas, and I went out and bought 1001 Nights and played Beast II some more and Prince all the way through (finished with 28 minutes left!), but I’m still basically at a loss.

Goddamn computer games. I’m torn between never wanting to see another one, and wishing I were back in California starting my own development team so I could take two years and create something that would blow Beast II out of the water.

No… the way I’m doing it is right. In two years there’ll be computers with CD-ROM and the need for live-action footage. By then I’ll have made some movies, and know my way around a film set. I’ll be in a perfect position to raise some capital and put together a really hot development team to launch a new line of interactive CD-ROM games. If Doug’s still running Broderbund, he’d back me in a second. They all would. I’ll be an irresistible combination of new kid on the block and old familiar face.

So I’m doing all the right things. *sigh…*

DECEMBER 20, 1990

Jim Alex called from LA to say he’s got someone who wants to do In the Dark as a TV Movie-of-the-Week. Will wonders never cease.

Brian says there’s a store in Alabama that has Prince stocked 45 deep. It’s their top-selling entertainment title, surpassing King’s Quest V and everthing else. Wow. Why Alabama?

JANUARY 19, 1991

I gave Kevin Burget a copy of Prince of Persia to play at the office and he’s really into it. It’s impressed him deeply. Some of the people in his office had already heard of it. Very gratifying.

JANUARY 23, 1991

I did read most of the 1001 Nights and I did spend a couple of hours doodling on the POP 2 game design, but have nothing concrete to show for it.

Sequel

JANUARY 24, 1991

[San Francisco] Man, it’s great to be back. When I got into my rented car and hit Highway 280, I laughed out loud, I was so thrilled. The trees, the colors, the quality of the sunlight… San Francisco is the most beautiful city on the planet. It’s a wonderfully reassuring feeling to return and realize that my old life is still here, waiting for me, if I want it.

The good news is, they’re truly hot to do POP 2. Over lunch at Gulf of Siam with Brian and Alan Weiss, Ann Kronen covered her entire placemat with ball-point notations. She was in her most no-nonsense mode, like a businesswoman in a TV commercial, leaning forward and saying things like “Brian, that’s your department.” Doug must have lit a fire under her in this morning’s priority meeting. Since she’d responded to all my previous Prince 2 proposals (the first in May ’90) with a batting of eyelashes and a “Let’s wait and see” smile, I found today’s encounter immensely gratifying. Best of all, it looks like Lance is back in the running to get this assignment.

Toward the end of lunch, I decided there would never be a better moment, and brought up the royalty rate. Brian, bless his heart, stepped right in with the 8% figure. Ann took it with a brave blink. Brian went right on and said: “Doug waffled at first on the 8%, but because of the success of Prince 1 in Europe and Japan, and the strength of Jordan’s name, and in view of the contribution he’s going to make on the sequel, he finally said it was OK.” The way Brian presented it, Ann had no choice but to agree. I asked for 8% and, amazingly, that’s what I’m getting. Victory is sweet.

Before I left, I dropped by Doug’s office. Kazue was there, and Jeannine Cook, and Doug’s parents. Doug’s father told a story about someone’s grandchildren shouting “Who’s for POP?” as they ran downstairs, and he didn’t know what it stood for.”

“I thought it stood for ‘point-of-purchase,’” I said.

Doug laughed. “Not any more.”

Paid a visit to Presage in El Cerrito. It looks like Scott’s finally getting close to finished. My visit seemed to cheer everyone up. Funny how you can motivate someone to work harder just by showing up.

JANUARY 28, 1991

Eight exhausting hours of meetings at Broderbund, pushing Prince 2 on all fronts. But it’s easy, with the wind at my back. The powers-that-be have given this project the coveted “Group 1 Priority” and suddenly no one can say no to me.

I don’t understand why they think this can be a Christmas 1991 release. There’s no such thing as a six-month development cycle. If even one thing goes wrong, we’ll miss Christmas. And something always goes wrong. I won’t even be here to run the project; I live 3,000 miles away now. Why is everyone – including me – pretending that this schedule is realistic? This is the kind of thinking that went into the Bay of Pigs invasion.

Anyway, I’m dutifully assembling the players one by one, proceeding just as if this weren’t insane.

FEBRUARY 2, 1991

Brian said that after talking among themselves, they are now leaning toward making Prince 2 a real splashy showcase for multiplane scrolling, CD-I upward compatibility, etc., with a “cinematic” opening sequence to rival Wing Commander and King’s Quest V. This would mean it would be a “right-after-Christmas” release. Sensing Doug’s hand in this, I of course agreed.

I’m in George Hickenlooper’s apartment in Pasadena. He’s playing Prince of Persia on his monochrome LCD laptop.

FEBRUARY 11, 1991

[Back in NY] I called Ken Sherman and told him I want him to represent me as a screenwriter. He was glad.

Prince appeared in the #10 slot on the Egghead bestseller list for Sept.-Oct. That was a surprise. Could it be that this game is going to be a hit after all?

Domark signed a licensing deal to do an 8-bit Sega version for Europe.

Brian sent me a copy of a two-page spread ad in Login for the new 68000 version: “Finally, Prince of Persia comes to the 68000 computer,” with a picture of the Prince jumping from one computer screen to another. Two pages! Very cool.

A letter from Fumiko Feingold, asking me to sign a get-well card to her nephew in Japan, who’s a Karateka and POP fan and was thrilled to read in Login that I live in Chappaqua.

Laid out like that, it sounds quite wonderful, doesn’t it?

FEBRUARY 19, 1991

Watched the rushes in class today. Ours came out pretty well. When it was over, people clapped and someone shouted “Good photography!” I wouldn’t say ours was the best, but it was probably the most consistent, considering that we stuck to our allotted three rolls of film (few other groups did) and shot only one take of most setups. Some of our shots were even aesthetically pleasing, in a mild way. I’m not about to start calling myself a D.P., but at least I didn’t fuck up. I’m more than happy.

It’s a magical thing, to see someone or something you’ve photographed projected upon that screen in front of an audience. Somehow, what appears is more than what you recorded; it has a reality of its own. My mind is starting to churn looking for things to shoot. I wish I had an Arri S right here so I could load it.

January royalty check came in at $56,000. I’m still in a daze. That’s the whole next year paid for right there. I guess now I can stop worrying about money.

I wonder where it came from. Nintendo? Sega? Japan? The royalty statement doesn’t say.

FEBRUARY 28, 1991

The ground war is over. We lost 26 people, or something like that. Pretty amazing. I thought it would be a long drawn-out bloodbath that would sap our spirit and divide the country.

Bush was right and I was wrong. What disturbs me, though, is the dissociation between his real thinking and planning, and the words he uses to justify his actions to the public. It’s the CIA mentality: As long as what we’re doing is right, we can take whatever official line is necessary to make it happen.

I had an argument with Dad about this last night. Me, while I can admire Bush’s diplomatic skill, his strategy and tactics (I’m almost certain he deliberately suckered Saddam into invading Kuwait so that we’d have a pretext for destroying him), I don’t like being lied to like a child on national television. We’re old enough to fight for our country, but not to be told why we’re fighting?

Brian’s eager for me to get cracking on Prince 2.

MARCH 4, 1991

Alan Weiss and Brian both called to encourage me to hurry up and send them a spectacular game design bible for Prince 2. Doug’s back from his travels and it seems Sony wants to do a CD-ROM version of Prince 2, and fast! I’d better get moving.

Instead, my head is full of 16mm filmmaking equipment, Thierry Pathé, Vorkapich, Robert McKee.

I should go visit Robert in New Haven and look at some games on his computer. That’ll help get me in the right frame of mind.

MARCH 11, 1991

Arrived in New Haven Saturday night. Robert and Oscar and I went to Est! Est! Est! for calzones. Looks like our trip to Honduras this summer is on.

Spent most of Sunday brainstorming with Robert. Came up with some good ideas for Prince 2 and D-Gen. We looked at King’s Quest V and Wing Commander to see if the opening sequences are as spectacular as everyone says. Technically, they are, but artistically they leave a lot to be desired.

There’s no doubt in my mind I could do better for Prince 2 – if I were on site. As it is, all I can do is storyboard a sequence and mail it off to California and hope for the best. I’m less than sanguine about Broderbund’s ability to push the envelope on something like this with their present staff and corporate structure. The job requires a tyrant, and Broderbund has none.

Got to keep things in perspective. After two days with Robert, my temptation is to forget everything else and try – again – to create the greatest game of all time. But the reality is, after this Friday, I won’t have much time to work on it.

Prince 2 doesn’t have to be groundbreaking. It just has to be acceptable, and get done on time. If I aim too high, it could easily suck up another year of my life, and my development as a screenwriter/filmmaker/human being would be the only casualty. I’ve got to remember that, and resist my tendency to expand it into some grandiose, technically ambitious folly.

What everybody expects is Prince 1 in new clothes, with a flashy front end and a few new twists. That’s what the job calls for. That’s what I should deliver.

MARCH 12, 1991

Spent most of two days with Tomi, hammering out the story line for Prince 2. We’re both rather grumpy, but it is getting done, and I must say, it’s much better than it was a few days ago.

Prince of Persia 2: Revenge of Jaffar.

Broderbund and Sierra are merging.

MARCH 14, 1991

Met storyboard artist Karl Shefelman this morning. It turned out I knew him already, from Kevin’s film shoot. If I use anybody I’ll use him.

A pleasant dinner at John’s Pizza with Mark Netter. He found me a 19th century edition of Lane’s Arabian Nights for $25. Beautiful. He hung out here for an hour playing Prince on the Mac and another hour after dinner talking about movies. A much-needed break.

Tomorrow, McKee’s screenwriting class begins.

MARCH 15, 1991

McKee’s course is good, really good. It’s also full of cool-looking women. I wish I had the guts to actually talk to some of them instead of just wondering who they are.

APRIL 2, 1991

We finished shooting 6 pm Monday. I dropped the film off at TVC/Precision and went to Phebe’s to get drunk. George, Bernard, Casey and John were already well on their way when I arrived; Toby and the rest came later.

Watched the dailies today for the first time, along with the whole class. I was nervous – I’d checked my math and realized I’d underexposed some of the outdoor shots nearly a full stop – but to my relief it all came out fine.

I’ve got light-years to travel, technically and aesthetically, before I could call myself a cinematographer, let alone a good one; and quite probably I won’t travel much further down this particular road. But I chose the stock, set the lights and camera position for each shot, operated the camera, even loaded and unloaded the magazine and other AC duties, on a five-day shoot for a 16mm color sync sound film… and I didn’t fuck up. Considering that six months ago, I had only the vaguest and most general idea of what goes on a film set, this is an achievement I should be proud of.

Now begins the editing.

APRIL 16, 1991

Spent the day hot-splicing. I got pretty proficient at it. We’re done, basically. Tomorrow morning we’ll check all the splices, run it through the synchronizer, line up the optical track, and send it to the lab.

APRIL 20, 1991

On Friday, Thierry gave a great lecture on the business end of production (line producing). Afterward I went downtown to MacGovern’s Bar on Spring St. to meet Patrick and his actor from Alice, George, his friend Catherine, John Bruno, and Bernard. We spent a while chatting with some pretty college girls from Connecticut until their boyfriends showed up, which sort of put a damper on things.

A movie crew was shooting around the corner. It must have been the last union shoot in New York. It was some low-budget movie about “a Harvard graduate” who falls in love with “a down-to-earth girl who frequents discos.” This was explained to us by the female lead – Hallie I think her name was. She was friendly to me and Bernard although she was freezing her butt off in that short dress.

Then we all went uptown to “Name That Joint” on E 92nd St, where Toby, Casey and John P. were extremely happy to see us. Next was the Outback, a couple of doors down (too noisy and too many guys), then we took a cab across the park to the best joint of all, John Bruno’s hangout, The Dive Bar. When it closed we went to 57th St. where Patrick thought there was an after-hours speakeasy, but we couldn’t find it, so we had breakfast at a diner instead. I got home around 6 am and slept till noon.

I’m so glad I came to New York.

APRIL 23, 1991

Last day of class. They screened our answer prints. Ours looked pretty damn good, compared to most of them. I’m relieved. For my first (and probably last) outing as D.P., it’s not too bad.

Thierry wound things up with an inspiring go-out-into-the-world pep talk. “The next time I see you, I hope it’s on a film set.” We all applauded as he left the room. If I ever get a chance – if I get interviewed by Premiere magazine or whatever – I’m going to plug this program shamelessly.

Mark Netter told me at dinner that Dick Ross hated Nick’s film, called it garbage, and gave it a daytime slot in the festival. That made me angry. Can you imagine Thierry Pathé calling one of his students’ films “garbage”? I’m glad I didn’t go to Tisch.

MAY 7, 1991

I so definitely did the right thing by coming to New York, it makes me shudder to think that I might have stayed in California. This is exactly, exactly what I was missing.

I’ve only been here seven months, and already I feel like I’m part of a network of people that keep meeting and crossing and cropping up in different combinations. That I can link Patrick Ladislav to Kevin Burget and Mark Netter; that Patrick and I can go to a lecture and find Mark already there and all go out for dinner together and then find John Bruno in the bar across the street; that Karl Shefelman is doing my storyboards for Prince 2 and sharing an editing space with Kevin; that I run into someone I know almost every time I step outside – these things fill me with a deep and primitive satisfaction.

In San Francisco I felt like I was in danger of falling off the edge of the world. Here, I feel like I’m part of something that’s strong enough to hold me in place. Each new link I forge makes my world stronger and more real, and as the net grows, the possibilities multiply.

Worked on the Prince 2 “bible” (and Mac Prince 1) most of the day. I hope I can get Brian something he can use by Thursday, before I leave for Cannes – but I doubt it. I’ll just have to make up for lost time with some fierce activity when I get back from Europe.

I’ve really been short-shrifting Broderbund and Prince of Persia since coming to New York. I should be careful not to blow it entirely. It’s not just my living, it’s my reputation, portfolio, creative fulfillment, everything. The only thing it isn’t is film.

Foreign Lands

MAY 18, 1991

[France] Party at a castle about 10 minutes’ drive from Cannes. There was a room full of laser light and smoke and I spent about an hour dancing.

Who should be there but Thierry Pathé, in his tuxedo and walking with that dapper, light-footed stagger. Thierry is the greatest guy on the face of the earth. He was happy to see me and Patrick – and surprised; this was an invitation-only bash – and dragged his producer over to talk to us. She was amused and impressed that we’d penetrated the ramparts of the castle on our first Cannes. “You’ll go far,” she predicted. She asked if we’d be coming back next year. I said I didn’t think I’d come back until I had a picture here.

“See you around the castle,” Thierry said when we parted – several steps up, subtextually, from his parting line when we ran into him a few days ago on the American Pavilion, “See you on the Croisette,” and beautifully reinforcing Patrick’s metaphor of Cannes as a royal court.

MAY 25, 1991

Wir sitzen in einem Gasthof in Pöcking, das kleine Dorf in dem Leni Riefenstahl wohnt, wartende auf dem gesprochene Stunde.

This town is bleak. Maybe it’s the weather (unseasonably cold and gray) and maybe it’s that we’re about to visit the director of Triumph of the Will, but it feels like the Nazi seizure of power happened yesterday.

Riefenstahl nixed the camera at the last minute, so we’re going in with only a pocket tape recorder. Too bad. I’d have loved to shoot it in 16mm.

MAY 28, 1991

The weather’s been spectacular since we arrived in Paris. George and Patrick and I had lunch in a brasserie near his mother’s apartment in the 9th Arr. and then I went to see Dany Boolauck.

Spent the whole afternoon with Dany, from 3 pm to 11 pm. He introduced me to the staff of Joystick (the #2 games magazine in France, which Dany and his partner are determined to make #1), then drove me back to his apartment in the 20th Arr. to interview me. I met his girlfriend Natalie and their 8-month-old daughter Kim.

Then Dany took me to Cité des Sciences, which is kind of a hulking, larger-scale Exploratorium, to see the Omnimax show. We picked up his friend, an attaché de presse from London – Christine, I think – and Dany took us to dinner at a place called Chez Pierre, by the Fontaine-something (it had a cupid with a trident). A great meal. I shudder to think what it must have cost.

Dany was appalled at the poor marketing of Prince; he feels it could have – and should have – been a huge hit. It was Dany who pushed for Prince to win the Tilt d’Or. He wants to do an exclusive “work-in-progress” article on Prince 2. He’s setting aside six pages for it in the next issue of Joystick. The fact that he would consider such an article a journalistic coup is, in itself, flattering. He and Christine agreed that I was the only remaining game designer in the U.S. doing interesting and original work, which is a ridiculous statement, but it didn’t hurt my feelings to hear them say it.

After dinner I joined Patrick and George and Patrick’s friend Jerome from Morocco at a bar called Le Violon Dingue. We ended up drinking vodka at an English pub. “Paris isn’t what it used to be,” Patrick lamented. “These places are full of French people.”

Rome is a great city; Berlin is an exciting place these days, the gateway to Eastern Europe; even Vienna is jumping since the Wall fell. Paris is… Paris.

There are good reasons to live almost anywhere. To live in Paris you don’t need one.

MAY 29, 1991

I’m too old for this. I don’t smoke, I don’t smoke dope, I don’t drink coffee, and last night I did all three, and washed it down with half a bottle of vodka and who knows what else, and watched the sun come up. Now I’m paying for it, and this airplane turbulance isn’t helping.

It was a great, wonderful trip. It was more than I’d hoped for. We didn’t climb the wall into Pere Lachaise and drink a bottle of wine at Jim Morrison’s grave, but I did get to practice my German, even learned some French and Italian. I got to spend time with George and Patrick – who’s become one of my best friends in a remarkably short time – and made a few new ones: Greg, Jerome, maybe Anne, maybe Tomek, Jan and Artur. I got to visit two giants of the cinema, Vittorio Storaro and Leni Riefenstahl, and was given a really privileged look at their (very different) lives. I visited three countries (Italy, Germany and Switzerland) for the first time. There was Laura. There was Cannes. I’m beat now, and ready to appreciate the restfulness of a couple of weeks in New York City.

JUNE 15, 1991

[Back in NY] Spent the day working on Prince 2 – first honest day’s work in weeks. I’ve really got to hustle if I’m going to have something ready by the time I leave for Maine.

JUNE 27, 1991

[San Rafael] End of my second day at Broderbund. It’s going well.

I’m very popular all of a sudden. It’s like the return of the prodigal son. I carry about me the whiff of foreign places. Cannes, Greenwich Village, it’s all very glamorous.

Prince of Persia is suddenly popular, too. The old marketing department is gone and has been replaced by a new marketing department that thinks Prince got a raw deal and deserves to be repackaged and given the royal rollout for the Mac version. Amazing. I keep waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up.

The Game Boy version is close to finished; the Super FamiCom version is going to be awesome; Prince has won a zillion awards in Europe and Japan; it’s nothing but good news on all fronts. Knock on wood – hope it lasts!

As for Prince 2, we’ve got a programmer (Jeff Charvat); we’ve got the attention of the sound and music department (Tom), who has hand-picked a composer (Jonelle); of the graphics department (Michelle and Leila), who have chosen a couple of artists (Daniel and Marcelle); and of the sales and marketing departments, who are waiting and eager to sell and market it as soon as it’s done. And, oh yeah, design services are eager to do the package design.

It really is a different world, doing a sequel. All the people who were no help at all on the original are now overflowing with enthusiasm, because it’s familiar, it’s a proven quantity. Broderbund is a company that was born to do sequels. They’re even good at it.

I have no illusions – it’s still the same company that almost buried Prince 1 – it’s just that now, I’m on the other side of the river. And loving it.

I foresee some arm-wrestling over budget and resources, but so far, Broderbund is giving it the best they have. And the reason is, truly, because of grass-roots enthusiasm for Prince of Persia that’s seeped up through the company from the bottom (tech support, QA, field reps) and through P.D., because of people taking the game home and playing it and watching their kids play it; and because of the good working relationships I established with Lance, Leila and Tom on IBM Prince 1.

Lance, Leila and Tom have now all been promoted to the point where they’re no longer actually doing programming, graphics and sound, but supervising their respective departments; they remember Prince as a high point of their creative careers, something they did their best work on and got recognition and satisfaction from, and they’re excited at the prospect of revisiting it. I’m bragging, but so what – I’m proud of Prince, but more than that, I’m proud of having pulled together such a good and enthusiastic team. If I can do this, I can direct a feature.

Brian and I took Leila to dinner at an expensive French restaurant that used to be a brick kiln. I blew a hundred and fifty bucks, but it was worth it. Leila deserves to have something nice done for her after all the work she did on the Mac Prince graphics – which Scott has yet to get running properly.

That’s the one fly in the ointment: Mac Prince is still far from finished. It’s way, way behind schedule. It’s my fault for not riding Scott harder, or for picking someone who would have done it faster.

The good news is, Scott’s taken so long that Apple has come out with a new computer (the LC) in the meantime and has sold a lot of them. As a result, the Mac market has now grown to the point where the sales department actually wants this version. So, Broderbund is going ahead and doing a new set of graphics for the LC version (i.e., small-screen but in color), and they’re paying for it themselves. A nice vote of confidence. A bit late, but nice.

JULY 3, 1991

It looks like we’ve got our budget. With Leila out of town, nobody had any idea what the Prince 2 graphics were going to cost – Ed Badasov estimated $17,000 – so I made my own estimate: $126,000. Brian gasped; Ed gasped; but, incredibly, Doug approved it. It’s the most graphics-intensive project in Broderbund’s history.

Dinner at Doug’s. We bought a steak, grilled it, and ate it out on the deck while getting devoured by mosquitoes. Then we sat in the living room and discussed the movie business and the software business, whether or not they’re converging, and whether there is really any overlap between the skill set required to be a filmmaker and that required to be a game designer. It occurred to me that, as of now, I’m one of the few people to have attained a reasonable proficiency at both.

JULY 15, 1991

[Back in NY] In the week since I left, Broderbund has once again been completely reorganized. John Baker now heads the entertainment group and Tom Marcus has been taken off licensing duty. And a horrifying piece of news: Perry Babb, Prince’s new marketing manager, who took Brian and me on a store check, has been diagnosed with terminal cancer of the esophagus. He’s going to die. Brian is pretty distressed. His own father died of brain cancer just last year.

JULY 16, 1991

Mark Abrams came and hung out for the day. He played Prince for hours, dungeon-mastered David and Liz, and tossed off ideas for Prince 2 like a Roman candle. Strange to see him after ten years. Strange, especially, to watch him play Prince, and realize we’d come full circle since high school.

JULY 18, 1991

Mark Abrams is so eager to help with Prince 2, I’ve hired him as a consultant and research assistant. It’s good for me to have someone to bounce ideas off of, and an experienced dungeonmaster to boot. (I wonder if he might be able to design levels, later on?)

Got another $30 grand in royalties this month, thanks to HudsonSoft in Japan. I’m rakin’ it in.

JULY 23, 1991

A DHL package arrived from Brian containing lots of fun items: NCS’s new storyline for Super FamiCom Prince; the new LC graphics for Mac Prince (beautiful); a sneak preview in a Japanese game players’ magazine of the upcoming Super FamiCom game Nosferatu, a blatant ripoff of Prince (NCS and Henry are foaming at the mouth about it and considering whether to sue); and, most satisfying of all, a letter from a fan in Saudi Arabia, suitable for framing. If I ever find myself stranded in Riyadh, I won’t have to sleep on the street.

JULY 25, 1991

Today I wrote letters. Literally. That’s all I did. One to Lobna, and then, prompted by Brian, a three-page beauty to Scott, which I fired off Fed Ex.

JULY 29, 1991

Working hard, making good progress on Prince 2.

Mark Netter came by. He was thrilled that I’d liked his second-year film. He said everyone at NYU had slammed it. Figures.

JULY 30, 1991

Sent out the first third of the Prince 2 bible Fed Ex, then dashed uptown for dinner with Grandpa, Mom and Dad, Dave and Liz. Then came back here and sat up three more hours laboring over the new “Princess’s Discovery” storyboards for Karl. I re-did it about five times, editing on paper. The sequence got progressively tighter and shorter and simpler and better. I enjoyed that.

First ideas are never the best. Even when you think they are, later on it turns out you can improve it.

Finally, I’m getting excited about this game.

I’d forgotten how much I enjoy drawing. Especially quick, comic-book style drawing. I wish I were better at it.

AUGUST 2, 1991

Spent the day studying Spanish verbs and working up a Prince 3 storyline. Yes, Prince 3 – I know I’m getting close to wrapping something up when I find myself thinking about the sequel. I’ve got some great ideas for Prince 3. The Princess and the mouse. It’ll be a milestone in computer gaming, a classic, a megahit. If only I ever get to do it.

Bought my plane tickets.

AUGUST 3, 1991

Spent two hours on the phone with Robert, playing around with what little Spanish we possess. He’s really nervous about this upcoming trip. It’s touching.

AUGUST 4, 1991

Mark Abrams drove down and we spent the day brainstorming about the Prince Saga (Parts 1 through 4).

In the morning on our way to MacDougal St. we ran into Sandra Levinson. She was with a beautiful Cuban woman whom she introduced as “the wife of Aléa.” Would that be Tomás Gutiérrez Aléa, the director of Memories of Underdevelopment? Wow! Sandra introduced me as the author of a screenplay about Cuba she was halfway through reading which was “very good.” O happy day!

Day before yesterday, Ken Sherman called to say that Herman Rush had offered $70,000 to do In the Dark as a TV movie but balked at $250,000 for a feature. Ken wanted to know if he should hold out for the full deal. For some reason, I can’t work up any excitement about seeing In the Dark get produced now. To get Bird of Paradise made, though, I’d give… well, don’t ask me what I’d give!

By this point, Ken must be wondering whether I’m really serious about screenwriting or if I’m just a dilettante who’s never going to leave the computer game business.

AUGUST 5, 1991

Finished reading El Principito on the subway. Great book.

It’s incredible, but my Spanish is improving noticeably from one day to the next, just from hitting the books. I turned on Telemundo CNN News tonight and found myself understanding entire sentences. It’s as if studying Spanish for a couple of hours each day has set in motion some mystic process by which I learn the language faster than I’m actually studying it. Like Christine.

AUGUST 7, 1991

Proved to myself I haven’t forgotten what a real day’s work is like. I took an hour for lunch and an hour for dinner (falafel at Mamoun’s, pasta at Lucca’s, strolling in the Village in the glorious weather, looking at the glorious long-legged girls) and spent the rest of the day inside, seated at the computer. Burned through pretty much the whole game design, revising and improving. Wish I had a few more days to keep going. That’s the way it always is. There’s something in me that won’t let me work on this project until I’m down to the wire.

Spoke to Brian and Scott. Miraculously, the Mac version [of Prince 1] has taken a turn for the better. It seems that letter I wrote has (belatedly) lit a fire under everyone at Presage, and now they’ve got Scott working nights and weekends. Maybe we actually will make Christmas.

Brian described the new box to me.

This Prince 2 is going to be great, if it comes out anything like the way I’ve designed it. If only I lived in SF, I could make sure it was done right. But I’ve got to keep my priorities straight. What’s more important – Prince 2, or screenwriting and travelling to foreign countries?

Oh, well. After I send off the Prince 2 bible tomorrow, I’m free!

AUGUST 9, 1991

I’m just beginning to realize that three days is not, in fact, a whole lot of time to pack up my worldly goods.

This is more difficult than a normal packing job because I’ve got to think: What will I need in Central America? In California? I have to ask myself about every item: “Can I live for a year or two without this (book, videotape, whatever)?”

There’s actually a kind of pleasure in the thought of going a year without my journals, photo albums, TV, stereo, music, computer games, car, all that crap. It strips me down to my bare humanity.

AUGUST 11, 1991

Stopped by the Center to see Sandra Levinson. She’d finished Bird of Paradise and liked it so much she couldn’t stop talking about it. I gave her two more copies, one to give to Aléa and one to a New York producer friend of hers who’s looking for a property for Aléa to direct. I encouraged her as much as I could without actually begging.

Two other interesting developments from that meeting. One, she offered me the use of her apartment in Havana after she leaves on the 29th. Two, she advised me that I do qualify to visit Cuba under the Treasury Dept. regulations. All I need to do is book a seat on a charter flight through Marazúl.

Feeling like a fool, I said: “But they denied permission to Sydney Pollack and Francis Coppola…”

“That’s because they’re Sydney Pollack and Francis Coppola! You, my dear, are a documentary filmmaker, and you can prove it.”

AUGUST 14, 1991

[Chappaqua] It’s done. With the help of Kevin Burget, David and Liz, Mom and her new tenant Stanley, and two Israeli movers from Shleppers, what’s left of my worldly goods is now boxed and stacked to the ceiling in what was once my bedroom.

Now I’m alone, doing laundry and rearranging boxes, and periodically getting blindsided by teenage flashbacks. Even writing in this journal – in this house, on a day like this – is a conditioned stimulus. It sweeps me, mentally and emotionally, right back to the summers of ’85 and ’86, when I was fresh out of college and Prince of Persia was just an idea.

I have no home now. Just a plane ticket.

Lost in Translation

SEPTEMBER 16, 1991

[Back from Honduras and Cuba] Went to Gideon Brower’s apartment to sit in on a reading of his new screenplay, Thebes. Kevin and Jane were among the readers. Seeing him brought back fond memories of the night of George’s screening, when Lobna was here and we all went to a bar on 7th Ave. I liked Gideon. I’m glad to see he’s got talent.

Gideon’s reading made me want to live in New York again. Also it made me want to have written another screenplay. To have a new 120-page manuscript, suitable for Xeroxing, begging to be bought.

Five months ago all I wanted was to make films – to write them, shoot them, direct them – to become a success as fast as possible. I was so ambitious I couldn’t fall asleep at night. Now I seem to be following a different path. Travelling, learning languages, conducting courtships like some 19th-century gentleman who doesn’t have to work for a living and has nothing to occupy him except his own Bildung. It’s all very well as long as I keep writing… but what have I written lately?

SEPTEMBER 20, 1991

[San Rafael] Nonstop meetings every day since I arrived, with different groupings of people. Even lunch is a meeting. It’s exhausting, and exhilarating. To be acting, to have a purpose, feels wonderful after a month of tourism.

Prince 2 is happening. I’m relieved… guardedly optimistic, anyway.

I’d been afraid I’d arrive to find the project scuttled, or at least that I’d have to fight tooth and nail to keep it afloat; but although I’d heard rumblings to the effect that the Powers that Be (John Baker and Michelle) were shocked and dismayed by the project’s size, all they’ve done is, quite reasonably, express concern that it not grow out of control, and entreat me to get as specific as I can, in the two weeks I’m here, about what graphics work will be required.

For now, it’s all going (seemingly) smoothly… a lot of work, taking the storyboards and spec’ing out how much graphics will be required to implement them. As to the actual content – what will be on the screen and how it should look – everyone is deferring to me the way a film crew defers to the director. Somehow, I’ve acquired that magic quality, credibility.

As long as they continue to trust me and believe in me, this job is a dream. If they ever start to doubt me, it could become a nightmare.

Mac Prince has been pushed back to January, which isn’t as good as shipping in October, but, after two years in the netherworld of “almost done,” will come as an enormous relief.

Dinner last night in SF with Tomi’s new collaborator, Bill Purdy of Purdy and Young, the job shop she’s contracted out the Authorware accounting program to. They are, in fact, purdy and young.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1991

[L.A.] Met with Ken Sherman. It was sort of discouraging. He’ll keep sending out Bird of Paradise, but after eleven rejections, it’s clear he’s lost faith and isn’t expecting much. I told him the Hawaii story and the Golden Bowl-in-Prague story. He didn’t seem too excited about either of them.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1991

I’ve been doing so much flying lately, it’s become automatic… I looked out the window just now and saw with a shock that we were 40,000 feet up. I’d been writing in my notebook and hadn’t noticed the takeoff.

I don’t think I want to live in L.A. It’s sort of exciting to be around the trappings of the movie business – agents and studios and so on – but it’s a thrill best experienced, I think, by the occasional visitor. As long as I’m making enough from the computer games to live wherever I want and write screenplays, why not take advantage of it?

SEPTEMBER 24, 1991

[San Rafael] Dinner last night at the Hunan. There was a full moon and we walked to the restaurant from Kelly and Ann’s apartment by Coit Tower. The night was clear and the moon was shining on the water under the bridge. It took my breath away. San Francisco on certain days has that special, piercing beauty that’s almost painful, because it arouses a hunger it can never satisfy. You know that even if you live with that beauty, see it every day, wake up to it every morning, get as close as it is physically possible to get, you still can’t possess it, and its distance from you will make your heart ache.

Prince 2 is coming together, slowly.

Today Brian showed me the alpha version of Nintendo Prince. Nothing cheers me up like seeing Prince on a new machine.

SEPTEMBER 26, 1991

Robert Cook’s in town. Software Toolworks flew him out for two days to chain him to a computer for the final playtesting and debugging of D-Gen. I’m writing this in Robert’s sumptuous suite at the newly constructed Embassy Suites Hotel (which, as I recall, was marshland the last time I was here).

Spent the morning at Broderbund and the afternoon at Presage, sitting at Scott’s elbow, tweaking the character animations frame by frame, pixel by pixel, like in the old days. We’re still not done. I’m going back tomorrow for more.

Everyone’s happy to see me, now that I don’t live here any more.

SEPTEMBER 27, 1991

Scott’s leaving tomorrow for the national sky-diving championships in Arizona, so today had to be our last day pushing pixels. Fortunately, it’s looking pretty good. Barring further mishaps, Mac POP should ship in January as planned.

SEPTEMBER 29, 1991

Tomi called her mom in Colorado who called cousin Midori in Salamanca who said they’d be delighted to have me and classes start on October 14. Yow! That’s in two weeks!

OCTOBER 13, 1991

[Salamanca] Said goodbye to Patrick at two a.m. last night, in Paris, outside the Moroccan restaurant across the bridge where I’d spent three hours in a fog of cigarette smoke and animated conversation, drinking mint tea and trying to look as if I had any idea what anyone was saying. Said goodbye to Lobna this morning, on the sidewalk in front of her apartment in the 17th, in yet another scene that made me feel like I was living in a French movie. One short plane flight and one three-and-a-half-hour bus ride later, and here I am in a rented room in Señora Francisca Mesonero’s apartment on Calle Petunias in Salamanca, Spain, about to start a new life as a starving student. Class starts at 8:45 tomorrow morning.

Two weeks ago, Salamanca was a name on a map. I just can’t get over the way you can decide to do something and then the next thing you know, it’s really happening.

JANUARY 24, 1992

[San Rafael] Prince 2 is in good shape. The artists were thrilled to meet me after slaving away for three months. Daniel is off the project. The current team consists of Steve, Scott and Nicole.

Today I screened the 1940 Thief of Baghdad for them. They’re jazzed. In the art department, at least, Prince 2 is the “cool” project to be on. Meetings with Leila and Brian have been productive. We all seem to be in sync and happy.

Scott said: “For three months everybody’s been saying ‘Jordan this’ and ‘Jordan that’ and ‘When Jordan gets back.’ I thought you’d be much older. When I saw you, I thought: ‘My gosh, he’s just a baby!’”

When I arrived, the mood was a bit nervous because Brian and Leila felt that John (Baker, head of E2 which means entertainment and education) had doubts about the project and would probably cut our budget severely. It turned out he hadn’t seen any of the work the artists had done. I took him upstairs and had the artists show him what they were working on. That, plus I’ve been making a point of trying to include him in things and keep him informed so he feels like he’s a part of it. I really didn’t do all that much, but it seems to have turned John around 180 degrees. Today he told me that he’s bagged all the other entertainment products they had in development and is putting everything behind Prince 2. He wants it to be an example of the “New Broderbund” (whatever that is). Fine with me.

John is still nervous about the cost of the project, which he says is the biggest Broderbund has ever done. He wants to lower the licensing royalty rate so he’s covered in case it’s not a megahit. We’re discussing it.

Broderbund stock went out at $10 (after a split) and has gone to $25, making overnight millionaires of quite a few people. The company has been moved to a new building on Redwood Blvd. Very slick. Glass and elevators and chrome, and everything in the official Broderbund typeface. The front desk receptionist is even cute; I don’t know if that’s a coincidence or if it’s part of the new corporate image.

IBM and Mac Prince are going out February in the new box. I’ve spent a certain amount of time shmoozing with the fresh-faced marketing people who have been assigned to Prince. They seem inclined to promote the product, as opposed to burying it, which represents a considerable improvement in marketing strategy.

Feyna says Game Boy Prince should be on the shelves this week.

Saw a prototype of the 8-bit Nintendo version. It’s OK, nothing spectacular.

JANUARY 30, 1992

Nearing the end of my second week. It’s been a good trip. The Prince 2 Team (Leila, Scott, Steve, Nicole and Maureen on graphics; Tom, Michael and Jonelle on sound, Jeff programming, Brian producing) is more jazzed than ever. The Powers That Be (Doug and John) look favorably upon the enterprise and seem inclined to let us do it our way without interference despite the fact that it’s the costliest entertainment product in Broderbund’s history. Not only that, but John actually signed the contract!

Meanwhile, Prince 1 is chugging along. The IBM release/Mac release is getting a goodly share of marketing attention. They’re even doing a promotional video! (Today after work Dexter and I went down to Mill Valley to retape the swordfighting scenes. When they couldn’t get the camera to work, we went across the road and had a beer while they figured it out.)

Licensing activity continues. For the first time, Steve and Feyna seem to be on top of things, rather than buried underneath them. The Game Boy version arrived yesterday and got everyone all excited. 8-bit Nintendo and Sega Master versions are close to shipping, so they say. Some more new deals have been signed including Sega Game Gear.

So, it looks like I’ll be able to continue the “expatriate writer” life a while longer.

All I need is a story worth writing.

FEBRUARY 1, 1992

Saw La double vie de Veronique with Tomi. She said: “It just proves that if you’re a good-looking French girl, you can get away with just about anything.”

Yesterday was my last day at Broderbund. I said goodbye to everyone. It’s actually not such a bad thing, taking off for months at a time: They spend so much time saying “If only Jordan were here!” they’re starting to idealize me in my absence.

The artists all want to please me… it’s like I’m their dad. I don’t know how that happened, but it’s great. I guess that makes Brian the mom?

Rob Martyn showed me Living Books. It’s awesome. If Disney had any sense they’d do a deal with Broderbund. A Living Book of The Little Mermaid would sell fifty trillion copies. Disney doesn’t see it – they’re years behind the times and don’t know it. Rob called Disney “the China of educational software” – the sleeping giant.

Dinner with Rob and Tomi at Jennie Low’s. It occurred to me that the three of us, sitting at that table, were ideally qualified to go off and start a multimedia software company. With Living Books, the Sensei product line, and Prince of Persia to our names, we should have no problem raising a couple million bucks startup money.

Tomi, for one, would love to do it. Rob I think would be reluctant to take the risk. Me, I have other plans… although what they are, I have no idea.

FEBRUARY 4, 1992

Visiting George in L.A. has got me thinking seriously about moving there and spending the next couple of years writing and trying to get a picture made.

I suspect that for me, another six months abroad will go a long way. I mean, I’m enjoying learning how to be a bum, but it’s not really my nature. I’m happiest when I’m in the midst of things – struggling, forging alliances and overcoming problems and, dammit, making something. That’s why I’ve been coming up with all these crazy ideas lately, like shooting a documentary in Cuba or Madrid.

Seeing George made me realize I want to be making mainstream, American, theatrical features. I’ve been dreaming about it for years, but pursuing it only in fits and starts, and from afar, while I spend the rest of my time circling around it… preparing myself, for Christ’s sake, as if I weren’t yet worthy to try to breach the ramparts, or something.

I don’t regret any of the things I’ve done in the meantime – Prince, Prince 2, New York, Salamanca – but now I’m asking myself: What, exactly, am I waiting for? I know what I want to do with my life. Why not just do it?

Ken set up a meeting for me at Leonard Nimoy’s company. The guy I met with, Bill Blum, liked Bird of Paradise, but is leaving to start his own production company. He said he wants to keep me in mind for the future. All basically meaningless, but considering it was my first movie-biz meeting since 1988 and In the Dark, I’m not complaining.

FEBRUARY 6, 1992

[In NY] I’ve got that dizzy disoriented feeling of having jumped too many time zones in too short a time. It’s like seeing the last five years of my life in fast-forward: San Francisco, L.A., Chappaqua, uptown, downtown. Connections to all these places still intact, I drift freely among them. But there’s no place I really belong.

Talked to Robert for an hour last night. Half-playfully, we agreed to start a software company when he graduates in 1993. I told him I was thinking of moving to L.A. It sounded good… but today, walking in the Village, the urge seized me to move back here instead. New York is part of me; it will always be the city. When I’m here I feel real, I feel alive, I feel horny. How can I live anywhere else?

FEBRUARY 12, 1992

No wonder I have this nagging sense of meaninglessness: I’m not writing. I’ve been noodling around with this ghost story, but it’s not enough. I was built to work every day, not just now and then.

Stopped by NYU to visit Thierry. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it didn’t happen. He didn’t light up and say “What the fuck are you doing, what happened to you after Cannes? You wrote a feature, you got an agent, good for you, I always knew you had it in you!” Instead, we just chatted cordially for a few minutes and I left wondering what I’d been hoping from the encounter.

Maureen said kindly: “You have that look like you’ve come back to visit your old high school, hoping to recapture the feelings you had there.” She was right, of course. How pathetic. You can’t go back.

Mark Netter invited me to come visit him in the Alps. He’s in Albertville doing sound for CBS. He’s considering moving to L.A. Maybe we should get a place together. It’d be good to have a roommate, especially a film-happy one.

FEBRUARY 14, 1992

Brian sent me a nice thick packet of foreign reviews of Prince – always a pleasure – and a new disk of Prince 2 graphics from Leila. Drove to Mt. Kisco with Mom and Emily to look at them, in a computer graphics shop that charges $20 for 15 minutes (a far cry from the 60 cents they charge in Salamanca). By an ironic twist of fate, it’s located where the Electric Playhouse used to stand.

I should write my memoirs… starting at age 15 when I got my first Apple II, up through the publication of Prince, the game that marked the end of the Apple II era. It’s a good story, and it’s a piece of history that’s really mine: I was there. Don’t know who’d want to read it, though. Besides, I hate people who write their memoirs when they’re young. It’s so egotistical.

Whenever I get elegaic about my past like this, it’s usually a sign that some big change is about to happen.

Here I am, as free as it’s possible for anyone to be – free to travel, work, fall in love – and I’m holding back, like I’m waiting for my life to start. This is my life. It’s not a preparation for anything – it’s the thing itself. I have got to remember that.

FEBRUARY 16, 1992

Sandra Levinson said Aléa liked Bird of Paradise, said it was well written, but didn’t think it was a feature – maybe a TV movie. She offered to put it into Paul Mazursky’s hands, although we both agreed that was a long shot.

I told her about my idea to shoot a documentary in Cuba. I wrote up a proposal so she can get started trying to get me a visa.

FEBRUARY 17, 1992

Kevin’s right. I really should make a short film or two before I go after my first big-time feature job. I’d learn an incredible lot by directing a short, and I could still go to L.A. afterwards.

Mark Netter called from Albertville, France, to invite me to go skiing the 26th and 27th. I’m tempted.

FEBRUARY 19, 1992

[Writing in Spanish] I’m above the clouds. Called Tomi from Washington airport. I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I don’t care any more. There’s no point worrying about my career, or about money. What I want is adventure. Whatever comes next, I’m ready for it. From now on I won’t worry about anything.

Paris

FEBRUARY 21, 1992

[Writing in Spanish] It’s a big city, Madrid.

When I arrived a thick snow was falling. I checked into a pension close to the Puerta del Sol, took a shower to forget the planes and buses and the lost night, got dressed as if I’d just woken up, and spent the day at the Prado. At the end of the day I called the only person I knew in Madrid: Ricardo from NYU.

We met for drinks. I hadn’t really known Ricardo in New York, but after an hour, he invited me to stay at his house, and to join him and his crew in the south on a documentary they’re shooting for Spanish TV. So, pretty much everything I’d hoped for.

Yet somehow, after a night of drinking and carousing with Ricardo and his friends, the whole plan of moving to Madrid no longer seemed like so much fun. It’s not Madrid’s fault. I think I’m just burnt out on traveling. Arriving in yet another new city where I don’t know anybody and have no reason to be here, this time, didn’t feel like the right kind of adventure. It just made me feel tired. Or then again, maybe I just stayed at that nightclub too long.

I called Mark Netter in Albertville and said: “Let’s go skiing!” Bought a train ticket to Paris.

FEBRUARY 24, 1992

[Paris] Shared an overnight sleeper with two Spaniards and an Argentine. When I returned from the cafeteria car, the beds were made and the old man was telling stories about his experiences in the Civil War and in Matthausen concentration camp. A moving train at night is an incredible place to hear stories. Like a campfire. I hardly slept.

Spent the day with Patrick. Now I’m waiting for Lobna’s 5 pm phone call.

When the train pulled into Paris Austerlitz station this morning, I was so happy to arrive, to be here. The atmosphere of the city engulfed me; I suddenly knew that this was where I belonged. Don’t know why, can’t explain it, but Paris holds more drama for me than Salamanca or Madrid ever did. I want to stay a while. I want to live here a little.

The immediate problem will be finding an apartment. Patrick is already on the case.

5:05 pm Yeah! She just called. Here goes nothing…

FEBRUARY 26, 1992

Survived a very sportif first day of skiing here at Valmorel with Mark Netter and his mother’s hairdresser Jean-Claude, who grew up skiing here before they put in the lifts in the ’70s. Jean-Claude and his friend Bud from Albany have been skiing every day for weeks. He said: “We have been here so long, we are starting to miss our wives.”

They took us down the hard intermediate slopes. Jean-Claude is at least 50 but he can ski circles around any of us. I’m in pain. Nothing like skiing to make you realize how out of shape you are.

MARCH 1, 1992

[Paris] Another glorious day. Yesterday was like spring, the first nice day of the year, and everybody was out and about. Patrick and I sat on the wall overlooking the Seine around the corner from his apartment, drinking coffee and going through apartment listings.

Patrick’s life is so idyllically Parisian I can hardly stand it. Every five minutes something happens that’s like a scene from a French movie, all perfectly framed and lit and everything. He stops a girl in the street and she gives him a light; or he slams on the brakes and jumps out to check out a big rusty sheet of metal that someone left propped up on the sidewalk that he thinks might make a perfect tabletop. And there’s the Seine in the background, or an old man with a cane, or a troop of schoolgirls or something, just to remove any doubt of where you are. I love this city.

Called Tomi from a phone booth. It was good to hear her voice. “Ah yes, Paris,” she sighed. “Of course, it’s a heartless and materialistic society, but it takes you a while to realize that because it’s so beautiful.” She was deeply envious that I’m moving here.

I told her Patrick’s suggestion that I buy an apartment instead of renting one. She just laughed.

Florence made Moroccan soup for dinner and we watched West Side Story on TV dubbed into French.

MARCH 3, 1992

My first night in 1 rue du Four, Paris VI. What a glorious feeling, after six months of living out of a suitcase, to be someplace I can call home. Patrick has been at my side every step of the way. It was his phone, his car, his French that saw me through. He’s been taking care of me in the best way. I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I’m in Paris. I’m here. I live here. Wow.

MARCH 9, 1992

The plumber came and fixed the toilet. The first time I’d used it, the contents that I flushed came back up through the shower drain – not a pretty sight. It turned out he’d actually warned me not to use the toilet, because it was missing a part that he’d forgotten to bring with him, but not understanding French I’d somehow failed to pick up on this minor detail. How embarrassing. Anyway, now it works, supposedly.

Also, today the phone started working. It was quite a thrill.

A DHL package arrived from Broderbund. DHL and AT&T are my only link to the world I’ve left behind.

I need a girlfriend.

I need to learn French.

I need to start writing something.

Other than that, things are just fine. Phone works. Toilet works. No complaints.

I’ve been playing this Gainsbourg record over and over, the one Florence gave me. Black trombone.

I can’t wait for my Outbound power supply to arrive from the US so I can start using my computer. (That’s my excuse.)

MARCH 13, 1992

Friday the 13th! Dangerous!! Great potential for good and for evil. Have to walk carefully.

Packet of mail arrived from NY containing among other things a letter from Ben Normark. I wrote him one back. Oh, and a $79,000 check from Broderbund.

MARCH 16, 1992

Went to Activision to see the Super Nintendo version of Prince. Wow! It was like a brand new game. For the first time I felt firsthand what it’s really like to play Prince of Persia, when you’re not the author and don’t already know by rote what’s lurking around every corner.

Lunch with Dominique. His boss and another guy pressed me really hard – they’re eager to acquire the U.S. and European rights to Super NES Prince and they hoped I could help swing their case with Broderbund. They said they’d guarantee 150,000 units. Not Bad!

Jamil called to say: “Where were you Saturday night? It was great… I got home six pm Sunday.”

Went for a drink with Patrick.

“When you go back to the U.S.,” he said, “you’re gonna be happy. It may take a while. It may take six months. You’ll be speaking the good French, you’ll know all the names of the streets and where is the Louvre exactly, and you’re gonna be really happy to leave.”

MARCH 23, 1992

Dinner at Denis and Dominique Friedman’s. Great meal. Had a good time. Erin, Laurent Weill, and Florence were there too. Denis me cayó mejor aquí en Francia que en California.

MARCH 26, 1992

Visited Dany Boolauck at Tilt. He invited me to his place for dinner, his mom cooked a spicy Indian curry, and we sat up till midnight talking. Dany’s life is like a Somerset Maugham story. He invited me to be on his TV show in April along with Richard Garriott.

MARCH 27, 1992

Got a letter from Ken Sherman. He said subtlety doesn’t sell these days and I’d have a better chance if I wrote a high-concept sexy cartoon like Basic Instinct (which I haven’t seen). Hell, if that’s true, why don’t I just stick to video games? Anyway, it was a nice letter.

I’m back to working on the girl-in-the-apartment screenplay. Can’t get too excited about it. I’m in a foul mood. Spleen. When the sky comes down on you like a saucer.

It’s been raining all day.

MARCH 29, 1992

Saw Bugsy. I feel better now. All I really need is to be working on something, and my existential problems will clear up – I know that. I should know it…

Maybe I should rent an IBM system, so I can work on Prince 2 level design from here. Lord knows I’ve got enough time on my hands.

MARCH 30, 1992

It costs $800/month to rent an IBM system here. My apartment rent is only $650.

I spoke to Leila and Brian at length. They want me out there. The pressure is on to make the January release, and it looks like some heavy graphics cuts are going to be needed. So I stayed up until three last night making them. I’m actually quite happy with the results. I kick and scream, but the fact is, I like economy of means. A game that looks like they threw everything but the kitchen sink at it is somehow inelegant.

It was good to work on Prince 2 for a bit. Made me feel useful.

I promised Brian I’ll spend three weeks in California in June, before I go to Cuba to shoot the movie.

MARCH 31, 1992

Sometimes I wish I could cut loose from all this stuff – the computer games, the wanting to be a filmmaker, the endless self-promotion. I’m so bored with my arsenal.

I wish I could be like Patrick just for a little while… so that people would come to me just because I’m cool and it makes them feel more alive just to be with me, and not because of anything I’ve done, or might accomplish in the future.

I wish I had nothing to lose.

APRIL 5, 1992

Sandra Levinson called! The ICAIC guy she wants to hook me up with is here in Paris.

Alea is dying of lung cancer. Sandra is trying to raise the money to get him to NY for radiation therapy at Sloane-Kettering. They need $35-40,000.

APRIL 8, 1992

Not one but three DHL packages arrived today – a batch of mail from Mom, a packet of fun stuff from Brian, and five copies of Mac Prince in the new odd-shaped candy box, which – I have to say – looks great, absolutely great. I’m impressed.

It’s sort of cheering to get all this stuff in the mail that’s slickly packaged and brightly colored and aesthetically appealing and full of your name and hyperbole about how great you are. Makes a guy feel more confident about facing the world.

At the same time, though, it feels sort of lonely, because I don’t really have anyone to share it with.

I called Patrick. He’s been having problems with his mother and brother. I asked if there was anything I could do. He said: “Do you have a ticket to the planet Mars?”

APRIL 16, 1992

Met with Pepé Horta from ICAIC. He was sympathetic and helpful. If the government doesn’t fall between now and July, I think I’m in business.

Patrick has been falling in love with his downstairs neighbor.

My stuff arrived from Salamanca. Got my books, my music, my clothes. I’m whole again.

Taped the Tilt interview today with Jean-Michel Blottiere. Richard Garriott is on his way back to London and Austin, Texas. He was envious as hell that I’m staying in Paris.

APRIL 20, 1992

The first really nice day. About time! It’s been a long winter.

Now it’s 6:30 and I’m waiting for Broderbund to call. The big Prince 2 meeting is today and I’m supposed to “sit in” by phone.

Patrick left a message: “Hope you’re fine… me, I’m just fucking happy.”

I called Tomi. I needed to talk to somebody who loved me. She said Florence told her I’m learning French like there’s no tomorrow and that Sallie told her I’m living a life right out of Henry James.

“You have a dream life,” she said. “You’re travelling, you have friends. What exactly is the problem?”

MAY 1, 1992

I’m behaving like someone who’s convinced they’re going to die young. Like these three months in Paris are months I’ve stolen, and it could end at any moment.

MAY 3, 1992

About sixteen people have told me I’m “timid.” Even Jamil, the other night, remarked: “When you first came, you were very quiet. Now you’re starting to relax more. I can see the difference.”

What the fuck is that? I’m not timid. Why do I come across that way?

I should make up a little litany to repeat to myself every time I find myself at a party among strangers or meeting people for the first time: “I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to impress anybody. These people are as bored with the usual formulas as I am. All they want is a human connection, to snap them out of themselves. They want to laugh and have a good time and feel something, for God’s sake, the same as I do.”

Another thing: When I run across a girl I really like (that rarest and most wondrous of occurrences), don’t rush things! Just behave as if I’m enjoying her company and it makes me happy to be with her, but it’s as if we met by chance and there’s no real expectation that we’ll ever run into each other again. Listen, be relaxed and friendly and not, for God’s sake, needy… I’m just moving through the world, always vaguely hoping to come across a kindred spirit, but not really expecting anything. In a word: Be generous!

MAY 8, 1992

Dinner with Patrick in a little Russian restaurant on the left bank that has 65 different kinds of vodka. Patrick and the owner got into a long conversation which, thanks to some miracle wreaked by the vodka, I was actually able to follow. Arthur H. comes there a lot.

“OK,” Patrick said. “You want me to tell you your life story? I’m drunk enough for it.”

He said: “You’ll become a director and a producer and all the things you want to be, but you won’t be a star. You’ll never be a guy like Coppola who takes the spotlight, who climbs the steps of Cannes with a crowd watching him and says ‘This is me, I did this. I’m a genius.’ You’ll be the guy in the shadows. The people who know you and work with you will respect you, but it won’t make you happy, because what you really want is to beat this shyness that’s in you. You want to be the cool guy, the hot dude who has the spotlight and who everybody gathers around. But this shyness you have will prevent you. Every time you have a chance to be the center of attention, you’ll deflect it. You’ll say ‘Oh, this wasn’t really my success, I’m just a little guy.’”

We got back to 8 rue Boutarel at two in the morning. Sandrine was waiting. She jumped into Patrick’s arms like a cat.

Where in the World?

MAY 15, 1992

[San Rafael] It’s been a good week, Prince-wise. The Mac version has shipped and, though it’s still early to tell, has all the earmarks of becoming a major hit… 16-bit Nintendo version has been approved and is slated to ship in Japan in July… Konami will distribute it in Europe and North America.

As for Prince 2 (the reason I’m here), it’s a good thing I came when I did. The artists were spinning their wheels mired in confusion and were grateful for my arrival. Once again, I’ve scaled back the graphics load. It didn’t bother me this time. Enough months have passed and I feel distant enough from the project to make the cuts detachedly. The reductions are fairly drastic, but I think there’ll still be enough left to wow ‘em when the product ships.

The pressure to make cuts, to bring it in on schedule and under budget, is coming from a nervous John Baker, who’s getting pressure from above, of course, from Doug. But when I stopped by Doug’s office to say hello, he said: “Don’t compromise on quality. Don’t let them pressure you. What do you care if it ships in January? If they try to rush you, just give ‘em a Gallic shrug.”

I’ve scheduled my next visit for early to mid-July. Right before Cuba.

It’s fun to breeze into town like this for a week, save the day, and leave again before I’ve worn out my welcome. It’s also highly efficient.

Doug was recently the subject of a Forbes spread entitled “Who in the World is Doug Carlston?”

Tina LaDeau came into the office looking for her dad. She’s 21 now. Wow. She could make anybody forget anything.

I called Patrick and read him the French translation of the Mac Prince manual. He confirmed my suspicion that it was not a great translation. We wrote a new version. That is, Patrick did, and I typed it. Hope they use it.

MAY 18, 1992

I had lunch with Doug. He suggested making Prince of Persia into a feature film. He thought we could raise a lot of the money from licensees. In a year or two, it just might be within the realm of possibility.

MAY 20, 1992

Yesterday was my last day at the ‘Bund. It looks like the project is back on track. It’s a good thing I made this trip.

MAY 28, 1992

[Paris] Today I met my next-door editing neighbors at FEMIS. They were tickled to make my acquaintance. I guess they don’t meet a lot of Americans. Anyway, I showed them BNUPS. They treated it so seriously, it was hilarious. The guy was impressed with my “unique” vision of Paris. The girl liked my “vision” of artistic creation: “So simple… so masculine, yet sensitive.” She asked me what it meant. Ah, French students.

Honestly, up to that point, I’d been feeling like walking away from the whole thing and never showing it to anybody.

Brian and Jeff just called. I miss Broderbund. I miss Prince 2. Why am I in Paris making a dumb student film, instead of in Novato where the action is? Nobody’s ever going to write me a letter from Saudi Arabia saying how much they loved BNUPS.

What am I looking for, anyway? I didn’t find it in New York or California or Spain or Paris, so now I’m going to look for it in Cuba… and I still don’t know what it is, or where all this is leading.

I invited 30 people for Friday night. Hope they’ll all fit in my apartment.

JUNE 5, 1992

I read Patrick the pulp serial I’d written for my French class to practice the various grammatical constructions we’re studying. He laughed out loud, multiple times. “You got a great sense of humor, man,” he said. “How come it doesn’t show up in your screenplays?”

JUNE 14, 1992

Had coffee with Sophie on rue de Buci, then we went to Les Halles where she helped me pick out a bunch of French music CDs. Mac Prince was in stock, stacked 15 deep.

JUNE 18, 1992

My neighbor, the pretty black girl from Madagascar, said: “Hey, I saw you on TV!”

The guy she lives with is a games fiend. They invited me in to see their PC computer. I signed a copy of Prince for them. Life is good.

JUNE 23, 1992

Finished moving my worldly goods, European division, into my new studio at around four o’clock in the morning. Now I’m leaving Paris yet again, on three hours of sleep and nothing but coffee in my stomach.

The (almost) four months I lived at 1 rue du Four, I felt like a visitor to Paris. I knew the clock was ticking, that I only had the apartment until the end of summer and I had to make the most of it. Now, I feel like I have a home.

8 rue Boutarel isn’t going away. The rent is so low – $4,000 a year – that barring complete financial ruin, it’s hard to imagine I’ll ever be forced to give it up. Unlike New York, unlike San Francisco, it’s not connected to a job or a girlfriend or any other part of my life that might change. It’s a retreat, a little square of earth I can always return to. I’m so happy to have it. And the best part is, Patrick and Sandrine are my neighbors. I hope they stay together. I hope they never leave.

JUNE 28, 1992

[San Rafael] Prince 2 is looking good. It feels cool, being the young game designer who lives in Paris and breezes into town for the week to look in on the project that’s going to keep him rich for a few more years. I like the nuts-and-bolts aspects of working on this project, too. I hate to admit it, but it’s more fun than 16mm student filmmaking.

So, why don’t I do more of it? A question I’m beginning to ask seriously. As in, why don’t I come back in (say) December, rent a one-bedroom in North Beach or south of Market, pitch a new project to Broderbund, and live half the year here and half in Paris?

In May 1993 Robert will be out of school… he’d join me and Tomi in a flash. It’s something to think about.

Ken Goldstein (Yale ’84) is working for Broderbund. Man, was I surprised to see him. Small world. I took him to dinner at Royal Thai.

JUNE 30, 1992

Lunch with Doug. He wants to do POP: The Movie. He thinks he can raise $4 million from the licensees (Konami, etc.), then get the rest the usual way. $20 million budget, smart screenplay, him as exec producer, me as director. Release the movie (and the novelization) to coincide with Prince 4… which, given 18-month development cycles, I figure should be either summer or Christmas ’96.

Four years ago, I was in the midst of Apple II Prince and had just finished the last rewrite of In the Dark. I was 24.

Time is going fast.

JULY 9, 1992

Here I am again at the airport. Seems like that’s the only time I ever get to write any more.

My last day at Broderbund was predictably frenetic. I was the last to leave at 8 pm, right after Scott. Tom Rettig brought in his favorite narrator, a guy named Mark, and we recorded the narration in under two hours. Nicole read the Princess. The Queen’s still a problem; we may need to bring in a real actress.

It’s coming together quite nicely. I don’t regret the time I’m spending on it; I’m enjoying it and also I’m learning a lot. In fact, I’d say I’m learning as much about directing on this project as I have on any film I’ve worked on.

I’m starting to think this computer-games racket is not only more fun than filmmaking but even, in some ways, cooler.

JULY 13, 1992

[In NY] Lunch with David at the Olive Tree. He thinks I should go to San Francisco and make computer games. “Who cares about movies?” he said.

Broderbund sent me a new 486.

Spoke to Brian. P.D. has been completely reorganized. Harry Wilker’s in charge of the whole thing now and reports directly to Ed Auer. Yikes. These are dangerous times we live in.

Getting this visa has been an odyssey. Pepe Horta says it’s all set, but I called the Cuban Interests Section in Washington and they don’t have it. I’ve been trying to send a fax to ICAIC, but the circuits are always busy. I made a plane reservation anyway for Wednesday the 22nd, on the 8:30 am charter from Miami.

I want to make a 7-10 minute film, with little or no dialogue, that paints a portrait of Havana in this poignant moment of transition. A way of life that most Americans have never seen and never understood is about to disappear, or at least undergo some sort of drastic change, and I want to get it on film.

JULY 16, 1992

Mark Netter is psyched to write Prince: The Movie with me. He also wants to move to L.A.

Robert wants me to hire him to design Prince 2 levels. It’s an idea.

JULY 20, 1992

Mark Abrams dropped by and I showed him Prince 2. Stayed up till the small hours shooting the bull with him and Linda: true love vs. romantic love and all that. Hours I should’ve spent on Prince 2 level design, but what the hell.

I fly tomorrow and I have not yet begun to pack. Down-to-the-wire me.

I guess the next time I write, it’ll be in a different notebook, and I’ll be in Havana.

Night Train to Berlin

SEPTEMBER 14, 1992

[San Rafael] First day back at the ‘Bund.

The artists were happy to see me. They’ve done a lot of work since the last time I was here – most of it good, fortunately. It’s all starting to come together. We’re slated to ship in April. Seven months away. Seems like a lot of time, but…

Prince 1 is selling 7500 units a month now. Everybody’s thrilled.

SEPTEMBER 16, 1992

Lunch with Harry Wilker, who’s just been promoted to head up product development (P2 and E2) and thus is now John Baker’s boss. He hates games, but it’s too late for him to do anything about Prince 2 except clench his teeth and pray. He’s nervous about how much it’s costing. I don’t think I reassured him.

They all want me to come back in November. January will be too late. I hate to leave Paris again so soon… and as usual, I’ll have to buy my own ticket… but there’s a lot at stake, so I guess I’ll just have to do it.

Not that anybody except me cares or is keeping track, but this month my Prince earnings to date surpassed Karateka’s. Figuring in piracy, there’s maybe a million people out there who’ve played Prince. Maybe two million. That boggles my mind.

SEPTEMBER 17, 1992

Demoed Prince 2 for Doug and John Baker. Lunch with Ken Goldstein.

An actress named Sarah came in to read for the Queen. I sat in to direct her. It’s fascinating how actors love being directed. This woman started out very cool and contemptuous of the whole thing, and by the end, she was just glowing.

Got down to making some levels, finally. Met with the artists (one by one) and with Jonelle, who played me the music she’s been composing. It’s not bad; it sounds like Indian restaurant music. Had fun speaking Spanish to Marcela. I have a good time at Broderbund these days.

SEPTEMBER 18, 1992

Leila begged me to come back in mid-October instead of November. “By November all the graphics will be done,” she said. Doe eyes.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1992

My last two days at Broderbund were insanely hectic and rushed, but we got the most important things done. At 5 pm on the last day I sat down with Nicole and we went through the opening sequence that she’d got running for the first time in 8-bit PC-size graphics. It was like cutting a film. She manned the keyboard, I gave directions, and in the space of a hour we completely recut the sequence. Without having to create any new graphics or record any new dialog, we made it work better than it ever had. It looks like it was always meant to be that way. An editing miracle. We were both thrilled.

Ken Goldstein has been promoted to associate producer. He’s second-in-command to John Baker and is supervising all entertainment product development.

SEPTEMBER 24, 1992

[Paris, rue Boutarel] It’s been drizzling all day. The kind of day that makes it hard to remember the sun ever shines here.

Spent the afternoon with Aarón. We dove right in, talking about the film and listening to the music tapes. He’s eager to get started. First priority is to arrange a screening of the rushes for tomorrow.

Bought a monitor for my computer, carried it back here, and promptly blew out the power in my apartment. Luckily, Bernard’s band was playing that night at the Texas Blues restaurant, and his drummer was able to explain to me how I should connect the computer so this wouldn’t happen.

SEPTEMBER 27, 1992

Showed Aarón and Patrick and Sandrine the Prince 2 editor. They were duly impressed.

Sandrine was feeling down, so Patrick and I brought a bottle of wine and three glasses to where she was sitting alone by the Seine writing a letter. She cheered up slightly, and we drank the bottle as the sun set behind Notre Dame. “We’re like characters in a Jim Jarmusch movie,” Patrick said.

OCTOBER 9, 1992

It’s my one-year anniversary since I came to Paris. I realized this when I went to the United office to try to change the date of my still-unused return ticket and was told that, sorry, the ticket is only good for one year. I’ll have to leave tomorrow morning or not at all.

OCTOBER 15, 1992

I bought a ticket for San Francisco for next Thursday.

“What are you doing in France?” Patrick said. “Go to San Francisco! Finish the game! They need you. Stay for a couple of months. Nothing’s going to happen here. We won’t forget you.”

OCTOBER 18, 1992

Spent the whole day at rue Boutarel making Level 3, “First Cavern Level.” I’m quite pleased with it. Some nifty little puzzles, not too hard, not tedious either.

OCTOBER 19, 1992

Stayed up till 5 am last night making Level 6, “First Ruin Level.” A good day’s work.

OCTOBER 22, 1992

Edited at Atria until eleven o’clock last night, when Patrick came and rescued me. I had a fax to send to Brian before midnight. Where can you go to send a fax in Paris in the middle of the night? Answer: back on the Ile, at the hotel on the corner of rue Boutarel. The night clerk sent the five pages to San Francisco and only charged me the France Telecom charges. The Ile St-Louis really is a special island within Paris, a world unto itself.

OCTOBER 25, 1992

[San Rafael] “I was taking the night train to Berlin…”

Thus begins the noir eve-of-WWI adventure Tomi and I are cooking up. Now, finally, I’m excited.

Ken expects me to come in as an author-for-hire, Prince 2 style, to build Broderbund an adventure game system. But I have a different idea.

An independent development group. Tomi and me and Robert, maybe Corey, maybe Glenn Axworthy, and a couple of artists, in an office in San Francisco. Two years, $500K, and we could develop an awesome adventure game for Broderbund to publish.

Best of all, we’d be building a company—an asset that, years down the line, could actually be sold for real money. Better than royalties.

Prince 2 is coming along nicely. No worries.

OCTOBER 30, 1992

Here I am again in that state of international limbo, an airport. I’ve got a 486 computer and a new leather jacket to prove I was here.

It was a fun week. It’s really satisfying watching Prince 2 come together. The last few days have been somewhat marred by controversy over the subtitle. I got Brian and Bruce and the whole art department excited about “The Shadow and the Flame,” we were all ready to go ahead, and then Ken Goldstein shot it down. Now, thanks to Ken, everybody is all agitated about it.

Prince of Persia 2: The Shadow and the Flame

Prince of Persia 2: City of the Dead

Prince of Persia 2: The City of Souls

I’m so burned out now, I don’t even care which one they use.

Pitched the train story to Ken. He said: “Do you really need a partner? Can’t you write it yourself?” For some reason the mention of Tomi got him all riled up. (As Brian said afterwards, “I thought he was going to blow a gasket.”)

Also pitched the company idea to Robert and Corey. This could really happen. (Gulp!)

NOVEMBER 1, 1992

[Paris] A last look at the film, a last chance to make sweeping architectural changes, and now it’s done. Aarón will implement the few minor cuts we discussed today, and by tomorrow afternoon we should be image-locked. Tuesday he’ll work on sound and get ready for the mix, which could be as early as Thursday.

It’s got a new title: “Waiting for Dark” (or maybe “Waiting for Night”): Esperando la noche. Havana 1992.

I like this film. Aarón says he does too. I don’t care if anybody else does. Lie.

Cast my vote for Clinton.

NOVEMBER 5, 1992

I couldn’t get Sophie or Anna or Frédérique to go to the Tilt d’Or awards with me, so I went alone. As if that weren’t bad enough, I won another Tilt d’Or (this time for Mac Prince) and had to get up on the podium and accept the award and say a few words into the mike. Saying it in French was the easy part; the hard part was keeping my leg from shaking – I was as nervous as I’ve ever been in my life. I thought I’d outgrown stage fright, but guess not. It’s going to be on TV, so I hope I didn’t make a total fool of myself.

Met some new people, including Frederick Raynal, author of Alone in the Dark; Eric Chahi, author of Out of This World (aka Another World); and Paul Cuisset, Eric’s successor at Delphine Software, who’s responsible for their new game Flashback. Eric’s left Delphine and is very upset about Flashback — not only because they stole his “look and feel” but because they’ve used it (he feels) to rip off Prince of Persia, which offends his sense of ethics.

Dany’s left Tilt. He’s in Thailand now trying to win over the parents of his Thai bride-to-be. When he gets back he’s going to work for — you guessed it — Delphine.

Dany’s successor is Guillaume, the guy who invited me to the awards ceremony. He’s brought on board as a fledgling staff member his boyhood pal Julien, who is a nice guy and gave me a lift home.

Julien said: “Of all the people who accepted awards tonight, you were the best, but you were the most modest.” The whole night was that way, with people coming up and saying staggeringly nice things to me. According to them, I’m one of the three best-known game authors in France, the other two being Eric Chahi and Frederick Raynal; and they were both so star-struck to meet me, I hardly knew what to say. Everyone here remembers Karateka. It’s really surprising.

Aarón and I finished cutting the film. (That is, I left Aarón at Atria, still working at 7pm, while I went to the Tilt awards.) We mix tomorrow morning at 9 am.

NOVEMBER 6, 1992

Mixed from 9:30 to 2:00 but the nice young girl mixer only charged us for three hours. We went back to Atria and packed up our stuff and out of there. Finished.

Anabel at Atria saw me on TV last night.

Enlisted Patrick in the “Train to Berlin” adventure game concept. We agreed that the chapeau is essential.

NOVEMBER 13, 1992

Stayed up till 4 am last night working on the interface for the train adventure game while Sandrine read comic books and Patrick played Sherlock Holmes.

Oh, and yesterday I had lunch with Delphine Software. All of it. They were like a litter of puppies and Paul and his wife/assistant were the mom and dad. They showed me their new game-in-progress Flashback, had me autograph a copy of Prince of Persia, and took me to lunch. Flashback rips off Prince shamelessly, but it isn’t bad.

I’ve got a half a mind to steal their vector-graphics system for the train game. Why not; they ripped it off from Eric Chahi. But I’ve got this obsessive need to be original, so I probably won’t.

NOVEMBER 17, 1992

I’m tired of being a foreigner. I’m tired of people asking me where I come from and what I’m doing here, and making little jokes about me being an American and when I do something normal they say “Aha, he’s becoming a real Parisian.” I know they don’t mean any harm, but I’m tired of it.

Oh hell, might as well admit it, it’s the same thing (only different) when I go to the U.S. I’ve chosen a life that’s so different from everybody else’s that it cuts me off from them. Practically everybody I know treats me like a guest celebrity. Of course it’s my own fault. I feel so damn alone sometimes, I feel like I could just float away into the stratosphere and everybody would stand there looking up at me and not one would haul me back down to earth. No ropes.

NOVEMBER 18, 1992

Spent the day with Patrick doing research for the train game. There was a metro strike, it was raining, traffic was jammed all through Paris.

Over coffee at Chatelet I brought Patrick up to date on my latest romantic travails. He said: “There’s something I don’t understand. Here you are, you’ve got this great life, you’re so free, and yet you act so conservative. You act like you and Sophie work in the same job and you don’t want to have any bad feelings in the office. What are you trying to protect? Why not just act like a child? Napoleon, Charles de Gaulle, they all acted like children. They saw something and they wanted it. You’re like that when you talk about your computer games. You have a dream and you’re going to make it happen. Children are tyrants, they don’t care who they hurt to get what they want. Why are you such an adult when it comes to love?”

NOVEMBER 19, 1992

Big day. Plumber came and installed a kitchenette. Cooked my first dinner for Patrick and Yo. Box of pasta, bottle of wine, open the windows to clear out the smoke.

NOVEMBER 23, 1992

Over dinner with Anna I sawed a piece off my steak and somehow caused French fries to explode across the restaurant. “Oops,” I said.

“I love it when you do maladroit things. I don’t like people who are too perfect.”

I cheerfully assured her that she would not have that problem with me.

She showed me how to hold a fork the right way.

San Francisco

NOVEMBER 30, 1992

[NY] Been here a week. Robert flew in from L.A., I picked him up at the airport (and drove him to a restaurant in Brighton Beach where Emily and her friends Marina and Alex awaited us… but that’s another story and, anyway, I now suspect that that entire restaurant was a hallucination).

The next morning I showed him all the work I’d done on Train. He liked it, but said that if he’s going to go back to making computer games, he’d have to be in charge of his own project, not just carry out mine. Makes sense. Corey or Roland would be a more natural choice, because they have no aspirations as game designers themselves.

Now, finally, it’s clear to me that I should just go ahead and start the project on my own. If it takes $20,000 or $50,000 of my own money, fine. Then, when it’s time to bring on a programmer, I can offer a royalty of 5% or 7%, and still be left with enough to justify either publishing through Broderbund or starting an affiliated label, and retain ownership. Gulp.

DECEMBER 1, 1992

Morris Silver came over and we plotted my destiny. He advised me to start an S corporation to bear the development costs of Train. Fun and games.

We had lunch at the little French café on the corner, the one run by the grey-bearded Tunisian. Morris intuited that my globe-hopping lifestyle is making me lonely, and predicted that I would find happiness in San Francisco.

DECEMBER 3, 1992

I need a name for the S corporation. Wagon-Lit Productions? Night Train Productions?

Doug has scheduled a meeting of the Broderbund “storytelling/adventure committee task force” and wants me to come in and pitch Train.

What do I want from Broderbund, anyway? A development deal like Prince 2? Broderbund programmers, Broderbund artists, Broderbund schedules and Broderbund bureaucracy, me coming in every day to beg, plead and cajole the project toward completion? All for an 8% royalty, and when it’s done they own the code, the system, everything?

If I spent an extra $200,000 and got someone like Roland to program it for a 7% royalty, I could do it my way, and end up owning the damn thing myself.

I don’t want to out-Sierra Sierra. Sierra to me means big, expensive, ugly, unwieldy productions with mediocre graphics, mediocre stories, and some fine stuff that you have to wade through the whole mess to get to. Electronic Arts put their heads together and came out with Sherlock Holmes, which is pretty much the same thing. I could help Broderbund do the same thing yet again, with slightly better graphics and a better story, and they’d probably do just as well with it as Electronic Arts has with Sherlock Holmes.

But I want to do something different. A game that’ll be smaller than a Sierra game but on a completely different level in terms of the quality of the graphics and story, and with a sense of style and economy that’ll make the whole thing come together and work even for people who don’t like adventure games. It’ll be to adventure games what Prince of Persia was to running-jumping games. That’s not something you can do by making a committee and throwing money at it. It’s something that can only be done by one author with a clear vision of the product who can supervise it at all levels: programming, story, graphics, sound, music, everything. It’s a work of art, and it’ll only be as good as the artist who makes it.

What to do, what to do?

DECEMBER 4, 1992

Called Roland. He’s the first person I’ll see Monday eve when I get in. I tried to get him excited about the adventure game.

“The best thing you said was that you don’t like adventure games, and you want to do an adventure game,” he said. He’s intrigued, but I think it’ll take more than that to get him to commit.

DECEMBER 8, 1992

[SF] Doug and Tomi arm-wrestled over which of them would get to have dinner with me and Margo to talk about adventure game plans, but they couldn’t agree, so Margo and I ended up having dinner alone, which was a waste of time, of course.

I told Margo what I want to do and explained my reservations about the Storytelling Committee. She said she hopes Doug will talk me into coming on board, but she understood my side of it, I think, better than her job allows her to admit.

(Rehearsing what to say to Doug)

“I’m sure this Storytelling Committee would be fun and all… but here’s another idea: I’m really excited about this train game. I’ve played all the other adventure games out there and I think here’s a chance to make something that will blow them all away – not just in terms of story, although that’s a big part of it, but also in the graphic look, sound, music, interface, the way it all fits together – the whole package. I’m talking about a game that will really be a work of art. The first adventure game to have a story and graphics that can stand on their own merits, not just by adventure-game standards.

“And I’m thinking beyond just this one game. The train game will take maybe two years to develop, and if it’s the hit I think it will be, there’ll be a major opportunity to follow it up with other games with the same interface, the same special ‘look and feel.’ I want this to be a whole line of games. I’ve been working on this for weeks and I’m so convinced it’s worth it, that I’d be ready to go out and do it on my own as an independent project, if I need to.

“Look, I’ve spent the last two years traveling and making movies, and learning a lot, but basically goofing off. I wouldn’t mind really throwing myself into something for a change. I’d like to risk something. So emotionally, I’m up for it. I’ve already started looking for an apartment in the city. I want to do this game.

“My original plan was to turn Prince of Persia into a franchise so I could live off the royalties and write screenplays and make movies. I’ve done that. I know if I went to L.A. now, I could get into that business. But I’ve changed my mind, because now that I’ve seen the movie business, I think this is actually more interesting. There’s a lot of people out there making movies. But if I don’t do this adventure game, no one will. It’s a chance to change the course of a whole new art form.

“I don’t even like adventure games. But I’m going to like this one. This will be the first adventure game since Scott Adams that I’ll actually like.”

I can write these things. But can I say them? To Doug, in his office, with Margo there and both of them looking at me?

DECEMBER 10, 1992

Dinner with Doug last night. I said basically what I’d planned. So, that’s that. The Committee will go on without me.

Doug wasn’t mad. He understood, even said he might want to invest if it weren’t for his divorce situation. So… I’m on my own. Gulp.

Spent today apartment-hunting on Telegraph Hill. Found one for $850 that’s got a garage and the right kind of faded San Francisco charm. Conveniently (too conveniently?), it’s half a block away from Tomi and Pete’s office at 725 Greenwich. I’m pretty sure I’m going to take it.

I’m beginning a new life. It hardly seems to register.

DECEMBER 12, 1992

Tomi and Pete and I came up with a name: Smoking Car Productions. They’re eager for me to move into their office. Tomi and I spent the afternoon working on the train game.

Now I’m listening to the Gainsbourg album I bought last night, and killing time until the Broderbund Christmas party.

DECEMBER 13, 1992

Had a surprisingly good time at the Broderbund Christmas party. Michael Baisuck and I had a drunken man-to-man in the parking lot after they kicked us out. “You know why I hate you?” he said. “It’s so goddamned easy for you. You’re rich, you’re creative, you’re good-looking, you speak five fucking languages, you can dance, and you’re not arrogant! If I had your life, I’d be having such a good time… But you don’t even seem to be enjoying it!” He proceeded to give me some good advice about how to spend my money while I’m still young enough to enjoy it. Like, buy a vintage ’58 Corvette convertible instead of an anonymous current-year Japanese car.

It’s only what Patrick’s been telling me all along. There’s this thing inside me that makes me hold back. That dry adult whisper that counsels prudence, caution, thrift… Why? I’m fighting it on the big stuff, but on the small stuff, it’s winning.

So I bought Mom a really nice sweater for Christmas, and I’m flying to LA on the spur of the moment to hang out with George.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time I see the girl of my dreams at a crosswalk in North Beach, I’ll have the balls to say hello before she crosses the street.

DECEMBER 15, 1992

My last two days at Broderbund were even more jam-packed than usual. Brian got back from vacation and we put Prince 2 into QA. (It was the day of Brian’s twelve-year anniversary.) Now that it’s approaching completion, a lot of upper-management types want copies to take home to play over Christmas.

Prince 2 is going boringly smoothly. Everybody wants it to succeed, the work is going well, and it’s even on schedule. Hardly the stuff of drama.

Tomi is proving her worth as collaborator on the train game. We argue a lot, but what we end up with is really good. This story’s going to be better than any movie screenplay I’ve written.

I rented the Greenwich St. apartment. Tomi made me a set of keys for the office. It’ll all be waiting for me when I get back in January.

I went down and saw Roland and showed him Prince 2. He was impressed. But, he’s not ready to commit to the train game. I think he’s scared it will turn into a huge project that will consume years of his life and drive him mad. Also, he’s just started on KidCuts and it’s not the right psychological moment to think of the next project. I haven’t given up on him, but I do need to start thinking about who else I might get to do it if Roland doesn’t.

I’m really enjoying the research for the train game. So far I’ve read The Birds Fall Down by Rebecca West and I’m in the middle of The Proud Tower by Barbara Tuchman. It’s great to have an excuse to learn all this fascinating stuff. I have the greatest job in the world.

“…Unknown Spears

Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes,

And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries

Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears.”

– Yeats, 1895

DECEMBER 20, 1992

“When a great war or great revolution breaks out it is because a great people, a great race, needs to break out, because it has had enough, particularly of peace. It always means that a great mass feels and experiences a violent need, a mysterious need for a great movement… a sudden need for glory, for war, for history, which causes an explosion, an eruption…” – Charles Peguy, 1910

“Without a country you are the bastards of humanity.”– Mazzini

DECEMBER 21, 1992

[Chappaqua] A day of cheerful puttering about amongst my stuff. Tallied up twelve months’ worth of credit-card statements, that sort of thing.

I’ve got so much money it hardly seems real. It’s so much more than I need. The awful thing is, now that I have it, I feel the urge to keep it.

It’s good that I’m doing this train game. I should spend the money and not worry about it. The conservative impulse, at this point, is not my friend. If I’m not prepared to roll the dice now, when I’m young and on top of the world and the cash is rolling in, when will I ever be?

I know myself well enough to know that whatever happens, it won’t be my excesses I’ll regret, it’ll be the things I held myself back from doing. In all my life I’ve never yet given a present so lavish, or made a gesture so expansive, or indulged a pleasure so recklessly that I regretted it later. Whereas there are so many things I look back on now and think: That was one of the high points, that moment will never come again, why did I hold back?

I know it’s possible to err in the other direction too, to screw up your life by not thinking of the future. I just don’t think I’m nearly there yet…

JANUARY 7, 1993

[SF] Brian came by at four and we got caught up on the last few weeks. It turned out I’d been invited to the MacUser awards as a last-minute replacement for John Baker. So we changed into our suits and ties in the office, and I sped us to the Galleria in my rented toy car (a blue Mazda Miata) just in time for the 7 o’clock dinner.

Man, that was a posh affair. Beat the Tilt d’Or all hollow, budget-wise. Oh, and I won the Eddy. That is, Prince did, and I got to accept the award and make a speech. Brian was thrilled. Susan Lee-Merrow got blasted on white wine and fell asleep in her chair. I was glad I went.

The next morning I picked up the keys and let myself into my new apartment. An auspicious start to my new life in SF.

JANUARY 10, 1993

Consumer Entertainment Show in Las Vegas was a hallucinatory experience. Three nights at the Excalibur. Have a royal day.

My roommate was an unhappy Ken Goldstein, having girlfriend trouble. I shared the Broderbund booth with Christa Beeson (demoing Carmen Space), Jessica, and Kathleen, and demoed Prince 2 for about a million journalists. Appointments every half hour. They flipped out, mostly. I think it’ll be a hit.

Saw Dany Boolauck (working for Delphine now), Jean-Michel Blottiere, Richard Garriott (very cool, very much the mogul), Gary Kasparov (I shook his hand! He doesn’t like video games, thinks they’re destructive and harmful to children), Muhammad Ali (signing autographs), Kyle Freeman, Fredrick Raynal (from Infogrames), Ron Martinez, John Kavanagh and Dominic from Domark (they loved Prince 2), Arnie Katz, and lots of other computer-magazine journalists, some of whom were fans from way back and were thrilled to meet me. One even brought along his copies of Prince 1 for me to autograph.

Met Brad Dourif, who was Piter de Vries in Dune and Billy Bibbit in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. He got all excited when I offered to send him a copy of Prince. He gave me his home address and secret unlisted number. “Come hang out with us when you come to LA.” I asked him if he’d consider acting in a computer game. He said: “Sure!”

Had fun cruising the floor with Mike Estigoy, trying to talk to girls. I was doing my best to flirt with Lori from US Gold San Francisco when, in a miracle of perfect timing, an Italian guy named Pietro came up to us and said “Are you the Jordan Mechner? The famous Jordan Mechner? Or are you just some guy named Jordan Mechner?” When we got it straight, he practically fell to his knees and embraced me, he was so excited. It didn’t do me any good with Lori, though.

All in all, CES was a blast. It was, like, my first taste of public life.

Postscript

Designating a particular moment as the end of the story is basically arbitrary, because life just keeps going on… but a book has to end somewhere, and January 1993 seems like as good a point as any to close the “Making of Prince of Persia” journals.

From here on, my journals are increasingly taken up with the saga of Smoking Car Productions and The Last Express. Which is a good story too, but for another time.

I couldn’t have known then that a decade later, I would get the opportunity to team up with Ubisoft, Jerry Bruckheimer, Walt Disney Pictures, First Second Books, and an amazing roster of creative talent to “port” Prince of Persia to platforms far beyond the Apple II, and fulfill many of my childhood dreams in the process.

It’s been 25 years. The pixelly prince is still running and jumping.

Los Angeles

October 2011

Post-Postscript

Hi, this is Jordan again. Thanks for reading this ebook edition of the Making of Prince of Persia Journals. I hope you've enjoyed it.

Unlike the Prince of Persia video games, this book doesn't have a publisher or a marketing campaign behind it. Though its subject may be of interest only to a fairly small number of people in the world, I'd still love for as many of them as possible to discover it. This can only happen through the efforts of readers like you. So if you liked it -- please tell a friend! Tweet it, share it on facebook, post a review on amazon.com.

One last note: For the convenience of readers, I’ve chosen not to encumber this ebook with any sort of copy-protection or DRM. If you read it but didn’t purchase it—and especially if you enjoyed it!—I’d very much appreciate it if you’d go to www.jordanmechner.com/ebook and legitimize this copy now. It’s cheap, it’s easy, and will help fund the cost of running the website and creating future ebooks.

As always, I welcome your comments at jordanmechner.com and @jmechner.

Many thanks for your time and support!

Jordan Mechner

About the Author

Jordan Mechner is a game designer, screenwriter, filmmaker, and graphic novelist. He created Prince of Persia, Karateka, and The Last Express.

jordanmechner.com

@jmechner

Copyright © 2011 Jordan Mechner

Cover and book design by Danica Novgorodoff