Throughout high school, I would tell family and friends that my career end goal was to be a “bridge between programmers and designers” (verbatim; just ask my grandma). My imaginary role would be characterized by interdisciplinary work, facilitation of conversations between groups that don’t know how to speak each other’s languages, and getting to have my hands in multiple parts of the game-making process. When I first learned that this was not only an existing career, but a fairly common one, I was pretty pleased with myself and even more excited for the future. 

Since then, I’ve gotten a handful of production credits under my belt. I’ve come to learn that production is something that you’re never done learning. Every director is different, every team dynamic is different, and every project is different; so, naturally, managing the relationships between these three entities will be different with each project. Solving that puzzle gives producing an almost addicting quality. I come back time and time again for the thrill of something new to learn even when the task is extremely difficult. As I said to my sister all the time growing up (just kidding), I don’t have to like it all the time to love it. (And if you like production all the time, you’re either underscoped or a splendidly-funded team of one.)

I like to describe a good production rhythm as something akin to playing an instrument. Once you’ve achieved a certain high degree of familiarity with both the project and the team members that you’re producing for, effortful planning and communication become natural, and it feels like everything is being carried out in a perfect unison. For me, that consonance is the most rewarding part of producing. Beyond the pride in a shiny final product, the satisfaction of watching a team find that elusive rhythm that works because of - rather than in spite of - their individuality, is my personal hallmark of a job well done.

Production is inherently a service role. You are the team member sometimes called to sacrifice being palatable in favor of necessary and honest communication. It is you who is employed for the unique purpose of making everyone else’s lives - and jobs - easier. It forces you to intimately understand each team member’s motivations, strengths, and weaknesses. It calls you to problem-solve friction and cut inefficiencies until a work pipeline is optimized to an impossible standard.

I sometimes joke that a producer is born, not made, because nobody who is not called to the job would willingly choose it. And with that, I sign off this page as someone who, however-reluctantly, answered the call from the womb.