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FFG Company History
Installment 1: "Lucky Luke"It was an early spring day in a dorm room on 11th floor. Outside the air was loaded with humidity, fall heat, and the lingering threat of a fall storm as they only come in Midwest U.S. The place was St. Olaf college, Minnesota. It was evening, and I was a great deal younger than I am today. St. Olaf college is situated in the rural hills of southern Minnesota. Overlooking the small town of Northfield and situated diametrically across town from its cross-town rival, Carleton College. In opposition to the clean limestone grounds of Olaf, Carleton sprawls on the rival hill like a granola-eating, birkenstock wearing, red-brick asteroid crash. One town, two colleges, one bar. Moving my rant along…it was a hot stormy spring evening, and Anton and I were talking business in his dorm-room on 11th floor. My good friend Anton, who came from Indonesia, and I were students of economics and business. Anton specialized in finance and accounting, and my field was pure Economic theory, history, and application. Our talks would drift in an out of business and economics, to movies, entertainment, women, all the things that occupy the minds of Junior college students. Yet the thing that I would carry away from that evening was our discussion of "Lucky Luke". Did you read comics as a kid? In Denmark, where I am from, we read LOTS of comics. Except they're not comics as we think of comics in the U.S. They're more like illustrated books — sometimes funny, sometimes serious, and almost always absolutely great. If you are familiar with TINTIN or ASTERIX or LUCKY LUKE, you will know what I am talking about. In Denmark, every kid has a stack of these books (they're really more like books than comics), and even more kids rent stacks and stacks of these books from the local library. They're sold in bookstores, supermarkets, and gift shops. Frankly, they're part of 'kid culture' in a way that U.S comics have never attained here. What we realized that day, was that Anton — from Indonesia, was just as thrilled about these VERY SAME comics (or books) that I had been. Apparently, these comics sold in the boatloads in both Asia AND Europe. With that epiphany came the obvious realization: That, In the U.S, they were virtually unheard off! The single series that we discussed at length was that of LUCKY LUKE. Lucky Luke, a wonderful and hilarious series that depicts the travails of the cowboy Lucky Luke and his trusty mount Jolly Jumper. LUCKY LUKE would became the key, the centerpiece, the focal point to our plans. He embodied the quality and values of the European comic books and the subject matter was an inherently American one — that of cowboys, bandits, and the wild wild west. That evening a business idea was born. The concept was of a business that would publish quality European comics in North America and change the way that comics were read and sold in the states. I would manage the business, and Anton would be in charge of finances and accounting. The sky was the limit, and the subject matter was fun. As the fall storm finally settled into the landscape around us, LUCKY LUKE had become the unlikely starting point of what would become Fantasy Flight Publishing, Inc.
Installment 2: "Dargaud and Finstad"After that fateful evening of the 'Lucky Luke' debate — I did the dangerous thing that only entrepreneurs and Nike truly knows — I just did it. I wrote a letter to the copyright holder of Lucky Luke, a large publisher in France by the name of DARGAUD. And as fate would have it — they faxed me back, and the rights were indeed available for a North American publication of LUCKY LUKE. That started the ball really rolling — the ball that has been rolling for almost 7 years — and finds me here at our offices in Roseville. With the good news and information from Dargaud in hand, I set out negotiating with Dargaud for the rights. At the same time I initiated negotiations with two other publishers in Europe for two other series of books that we would launch simultaneously with Lucky Luke (Their names were SPIROU & FANTASIO, and PERCEVAN). My short senior year was coming up (I graduated 6 months early from college — the only benefit, really, from taking heavy course-loads), and I was determined to spend that time implementing our plans so that we could graduate directly into the new and exciting business venture (my partner Anton would also graduate early at the same time as I). St. Olaf college is fortunate enough to have center for Entrepreneurial study called 'The Finstad Entrepreneurial Center'. To this center, and its resident mentor James Ashman, we ran. Here we took our thoughts and here we applied for a monetary grant to help our efforts. Again, fate would nudge the ball down the slippery slope that leads to Roseville and games. We got the grant, you see -AND the helpful advise of Jim Ashman and the Finstad center. The plan was, that as we finished our senior year in January 1995, we would start a 4 month research program to write our business-plan. Then we would raise the needed seed-capital to start the business — and then, at last, we would be off to fame and fortune in the comic book world. And thus, when January rolled around, Anton and I found ourselves in a little basement apartment, funded by a generous Finstad Center, ready to venture out on not only the great road of post-college life — but also down the rocky and sticky path of entrepreneurship and building a small business.
Intallment 3: "Four Days In Northfield"Northfield, Minnnesota is a lovely little rural town with two colleges. Its population grows by about 40% when the colleges (Carleton and St. Olaf) are in session. If you ever visit the idyllic main-street, be sure to stop by Hogan Brothers and have a delicious Hoagie and Chili. Wonderful stuff. FFG was born on this stuff. I was made aware about 3 years later, that Northfield, MN was the stomping grounds of some very important personalities in the Hobby Games Industry. Jonathan Tweet (WOTC), Lisa Stevens (formerly WOTC), Mark Rein*Hagen (White Wolf) and John Nephew (Atlas Games) and a few others all evolved from the small games publishing company 'Lion Rampant' that started its days Northfield in the early 90's. So, unbeknownst to me at the time I lived there — I was in one of the most virile breeding grounds for the Hobby Games Industry. Yet, I was still developing the business of comics — and only later would I learn the error of my ways. That my roots really were in gaming. In almost all ways possible, my roots have always been in gaming. So, it was still 1995, and Anton and I set up our small 'R&D' organization in a rented basement. I can still remember the smell of mildew and back-bending activity of cooking ramen-noodles on a small burner on the floor of the bathroom. Our Finstad grant (about $3000) did not stretch far when rent, travel, food, and office-equipment all needed to be covered over a 3 month period. We set up our office in Anton's room which was the larger of the two, we used a fax-machine as our combined fax/phone, and a couple of old PC's as our workstations (I think that they were 486 processors). With fire in our hearts and minds, we set out to create a business-plan that would be our ultimate tool to raise the needed seed capital. The name of our two-person research group was 'Pegasus Research Group' and under this name we sent out our tendrils to the world at large. We researched book markets, toy markets, printing costs and procedures, we met with UPS representatives, we interviewed domestic and international comic book publishers, we made projections and marketing plans. We did this and more. We were the kings of business, and definitely the emperors of our basement. In our spare-time we played MAGIC at the local store, ate Hogies at Hogan's, and I partied like a rock-star with my (still in school) college friends on the weekends. It was also at this time that I learned that I needed eye glasses, and I have been wearing wire-rim glasses ever since. I am actually on my third pair right now, should you be interested in that but of utterly useless trivia. Initially we wanted to call our comic book business 'Pegasus Publishing' but we learned that the business world was already spewing with 'Pegasus' named businesses of all kinds, including 'Pegasus Publishing'. Therefore we named the business 'Fantasy Flight Publishing' representing the flight of the mythical and fantastical Pegasi. After 3 months of hard work and hard partying, we presented a finished 50 page business plan (including appendices) to the Finstad Center. We were ready. Ready for the money.
Installment 4: "Money and Orange Julius"With our pastel-blue covered business plan in hand, we were ready to venture into the great wide world. The next 3 weeks we spent looking for an apartment and office space the Twin Cites (that is the adjoining cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, and their myriad of suburbs) Money was the real conundrum of course. We needed to raise about $150,000 for our grand business scheme, and that is quite the batch of money for two wet-behind-the-ears college graduates. We made about 50 copies of the business-plan at the Northfield 'Insty-Prints' for our last bleeding 400 grant-dollars. We were now on our own. The business plan was sent out to a wide varity of different places. Both Anton's and my own families decided to invest, and some senior people at our college also decided to invest. Many of my friends in Denmark also invested (they had witnessed my success at Pegasus Spil Import — my high-school business which I will describe later). So little after little the money started coming, but with all the obvious avenues exhausted, we were still only half way to our $150,000. We needed to raise all $150,000 before we could incorporate, issue shares and take the various investments on-board. So the money-search was now entering its really tough period. While this money-raising was all happening, Anton and I found a big apartment in Burnsville, MN. Burnsville is one of the southernmost suburbs of the Twin Cites, and only about 25 minutes north of Northfield. So, slowly, inch by inch, we were breaking away from pond of collegiate safety that we had been wading in for the last 4 years. With baby-steps we were entering the "real world". The apartment was big enough to act both as home to both of us, and also function as an office for our business. Now, with all the work finding investors, I was running out of money. I had no other choice than to take a part-time job. I wanted to find a job for evenings so I could keep working days (without pay) at Fantasy Flight. My first attempts were therefore to find a restaurant server or bartender position. I remember not getting a bar-tender position because I could not recite 5 different brands of Vodka from the top of my head during my bartender 'interview' (come to think of it, I STILL can't recite 5 different brands of Vodka). Soon thereafter, I think on the same day as the failed attempt at becoming a bartender, I bought a few packs of Magic Cards (THE DARK, if you care) and went to get a burger at the local Mall Food Court. As I was about to leave, I noticed that the nearby Orange Julius stand had a 'HELP NEEDED' sign up. I inquired, and bang, I was an employee at the small Orange Julius in the Burnsville Mall. For people who don't know what 'Orange Julius' is — it is a food-stand that sells Hot Dogs, Pretzels, and specializes in Fruit Drinks mixed with ice and a special milk/vanilla powder. So for the next two months, I was the Julius Jerk at the local mall, 5 nights a week, and one weekend-day for the whole day. I drank lots of Orange Julius, ate lots of hot dogs, and probably gained 25 pounds; tonnage that I am still working down today. Working at OJ, I must admit that it was slightly painful when other St. Olaf graduates would come by and see me in my orange neon-glow glory. Here I was C. Petersen, Honor Student, Economics Major, and die-hard Entrepreneur, working at Orange Julius! Most of the people I knew said 'HI' politely enough, but I am sure that they had a few laughs on my behalf on their way out of the mall. Oh well, I had to make some money for food and rent, and Orange Julius was it. During the daytime Anton and I looked for investors and tried to educate ourselves on the world of publishing and printing operations. Yet better fortune was ahead! About 2 months after I started at Orange Julius, we would succeed at our money-raising endeavors.
Installment 5: "Of Dogs and Fights"While trying to raise money for the business, I came across an Entrepreneur's organization in Minneapolis called 'The Collaborative'. Anton and I spent $120 on the membership, and soon thereafter we received the membership package, including the substantial 'Collaborative Members' phone book. Sometimes life gives you curve balls, and sometimes it is simpler than you can imagine. After getting the package — I leafed through the phone-book, and there, towards the middle, was a section that stuck out like a sun in the blue sky. The section was called 'Investors'. Eureka! I spent the next few days calling up the 'investor' listings that I thought looked interesting. Not being a telecommunications, software, or medical device company, the prospects were not as many as it had first seemed. It was from a listing in this phone book that I talked to Mr. X for the first time. I will make Mr. X anonymous since I think he would prefer it that way. Mr. X runs a small private venture capital company, and he was among the most promising listings in the Collaborative phone-book. Let's call his company 'Mr. X & Associates'. After talking to him on the phone, we sent the business-plan to Mr. X and waited a few days to hear back from him while chasing other investment leads. After about a week he called back to set up a meeting. The show was on. The day of the meeting Anton and I dressed in suits and ties, took our business plan and a stack of comics under our arms, and drove downtown in Anton's old Acura. The meeting was brutal. I doubt Mr. X knows what a 'velvet glove' is. For the first time, our plan and vision came under real world scrutiny and critique. In my youthful ignorance I has assumed that we would have an exciting discussion of the opportunity and market potential for the business. Instead, the very fundamentals of our business plan were targeted by Mr. X's cruise missile questions. "Where does that number come from", "How do you know this!", "Why". "What are your plans in this circumstance (not covered in the plan)". I walked away from the meeting daunted and beaten up, but more determined to see our plan succeed than ever. I was sure that we had performed miserably, and that Mr. X would toss our business plan and notes in his trash bin as soon as we left the building. We had just had our first lesson in the world of 'real' business. We kept working, and after a few days I faxed a thank-you-for-your-time letter to Mr. X. stating that we would be happy to answer any additional questions that he may have. On this letter, I made one fateful mistake. In my inexperience, I abbreviated Mr. X & Associates, to "Mr. X & Ass." A few hours after faxing the letter, we got a return fax from Mr. X with a photocopy of the part of the dictionary that outlines the REAL meaning of the words 'Ass, Arse' etc. No explanation, no excuses, no softening words. Just the true meaning of Ass. I was both humiliated, thoroughly amused, and a little angry. I had made a mistake, and it had been held up high and tossed back in my face. One of my College friends had given me a coaster upon which was printed a classic and historical phrase. Memory fails me right now, but I believe that Theodore Roosevelt said it: "It is not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog!" I had pinned this coaster to the wall next my desk, and it gave me heart now. I wrote another fax to Mr. X, this time the only words were the above quote in 50pt Font. I had a little dogfight in me yet. A few hours later, Mr. X called. "I have some additional questions on your business plan". Woof.
Installment 6: "The Last Mile, The First Step"So, after a rough start, we managed get Mr. X on board as an investor and member of our fledging Board of Directors. No sooner had this happened, when another potential investor — this time associated with St. Olaf college, called us up and expressed his investment interest after reading our business plan. This new investor was also successfully brought on board. Thus suddenly, out-of-the-blue, we had reached our investment goal and we were ready to rumble. It was the middle of June 1995, and we would now implement the last formalities needed to start the business. For those of you that have actually started a business, you know that there is a huge amount of learning required. Not only do we have to worry about money, sales, products, strategy, marketing, etc — a U.S business also needs to posses knowledge about legal and financial matters such as incorporation, insurance, employment taxes, state and federal registration, stock certificates and their subscription agreements, corporate governance, etc. The list is long and tedious, but vital and crucially important. So in those last weeks of July, Anton and I began setting up the legal and financial matters of the business. We hired a lawyer to set up the corporation and help us with stock and subscription agreement issues. After dealing with this, we began to learn the complex rules of U.S employment tax rules (that means Federal, State, FICA, FUTA, Social Security and Medicare taxes) and setting up a proper accountancy system for the business. One of the best choices that Fantasy Flight ever made was our choice of accounting system. We have now used QUICKBOOKS PRO for 7 years, and this wonderful tool handles every single financial and logistical matter that a smaller company would need (payroll, invoicing, inventory, accounts, reporting, etc). Since day 1, we have tried to run a very tight accounting department (sadly unlike some current Fortune 500 companies), and Quickbooks have been an invaluable tool. Thanks Intuit! Sounds boring? You bet! In an industry of Dragons, Colors, Superheroes, and Adventure, there is a brown cardboard underbelly of warehouse logistics, shipping, accounting, taxes, and every form of administration issues. This was the last dry mile. The final sprint. On July 15th, 1995 Fantasy Flight Publishing, Inc was officially born. A major step in my life had been accomplished. We had been successful in raising seed-capital, we had put all of our legal and accounting ducks in a pretty long row. It was a powerful and wonderful feeling of success. As you know, life is a series of races. You race towards the finish line and you are terribly elated when you reach it. Yet after a few days, it becomes clear that the bright white finishing line was actually a starting line of a new race. Gentlemen, start your engines once again. Now we had done it, now it was serious. Many people had entrusted us with serious money, we were the herdsmen, the gardeners of this trust and capital. On July 15, 1995 Fantasy Flight Publishing took its first fledgling steps into the unknown. It was almost 7 years ago.
Installment 7: "A State of Flux"So, you would think that after all the research, the constructing of a business plan, and the raising of tons of money, that we would be able to race out the door at 100 mph, all knowing, all seeing, all doing. You would think wrong. The real work was just starting. Now that we had successfully stepped in salad and actually started the company, we now had to figure out how to keep it and grow it. We spent the first few weeks after incorporation purchasing needed stuff like Desks, computers, files cabinets, printers, paper, paper-cutter, business cards, phones, etc. We also hired Debra Pickett (a fellow St. Olaf graduate) as the manager of Marketing. Debra started in the Middle of August, and we where ready to roll. But all the above was mere window-dressing on top of the real business conundrum: sales! A company must have sales to exist. And in order to have sales, you must have product. So what were we doing about the product? Well, even though we had done homework, research, and fund-raising, we had never actually produced printed material, much less sellable printed material. In order to move on with our plans, we needed to learn how to 'walk the walk, and talk the talk' in the world of printing. It was August. We were in that foggy stage between starting a company and offering our first product. We were in a state of flux. Have you ever heard of Quark Xpress? If it sounds to you like a sick parrot or some obscure term in physics, then you'll be at the same stage that I was 7 years ago. Quark Xpress is actually not a sick parrot, but the most commonly used desktop publishing software in the world. It is, in other words, the "standard" in the printing and publishing industries (some may have heard of Adobe Pagemaker, a similar but less powerful and less commonly used layout software). How did we first hear about good 'ol Quark? Well, that would be from Mr. Jeff Graves of The Press in Chanhassen, Minnesota. Jeff is the kind of printer representative that you want should you ever start a publishing company without knowing a thing about printing. He is the type of guy that not only explains to you how printing works, he actually seems to really enjoy the role of tutor and teacher. Jeff directed us to Quark Xpress, taught us about 4 color process, Line Screen, DPI, RRED-NEG 4C film, EPS, Dylux 'Blues', UV coat, paperweight, Data Storage, etc. The list is long and intricate, and it took me years to be really comfortable with these concept. We have not worked with Jeff for many years now, but it was a wonderful experience. Thanks Jeff, you're the man! Anton, Debra, and I worked with Jeff for weeks and weeks sorting issues either related to our lack of knowledge, or dealing with the foreign production film. You see, our first three books 'Lucky Luke The Stage Coach', 'Percevan: The Three Stars of Ingaar', and 'Johan and Peewit: The Black Arrow' were all delivered to us from our European licensors with POSITIVE film. In the U.S, we use NEGATIVE film for printing (don't ask me why the difference exists). This was no small hurdle to overcome. Over the weeks, we did work everything out, however, and preparation for the printing of our first three books was moving along. In the meantime, we were busy learning Quark Xpress and Abobe Photoshop on our ultra modern lightning-fast PC Pentium 100mhz machines. We actually were among the first users of the 100MB ZIP disks from iOmega. Even our printer needed to purchase a ZIP reader in order to use our files. We felt very cutting edge, technologically speaking. I write this with a tired smile, as I type away on my now long out-dated PC Pentium 500 Mhz In desktop printing and manufacturing, you really need three types of software 1) Adobe Photoshop (Imaging and Effects) 2) Quark Xpress (Text and Layout) and 3) Macromedia Freehand or Adobe Illustrator (Drawing/Design). With these three, you can design pretty much anything your heart desires. For about 2 long months, our offices were a frantic place of "how", "why", and "I don't get it". We were learning, and learning fast. We were crunching through software manuals, deciphering print-quotes, and slowly moving our way towards our big goal: to make products. As October waned, we had finally delivered our data and film to The Press in Chanhassen. In 4 weeks, our first hot product would be delivered to our warehouse. It was day long awaited.
Installment 8: "The Comic Book Collapse"The world has changed.
I can taste it in the water
Below are the comic book industry events leading up to our publication of European comics in the Fall of 1995.
Burnsville, October 1995.
I will never forget the day that I called Diamond to get our preorders for our first three comic books. We had put tens of thousands of dollars into product and marketing, and it all boils down to a small solicitation in Diamonds "Previews", Capital City's 'Advance Comics', and a few smaller outlets. We were still about 2 weeks away from actually receiving our books — but they had been selling through the distribution catalogs for a few months- and we could now collect our preorders before the books arrived. It was spanking time. I guess it was about 5 O'clock in the afternoon. Outside it was already dark, and a pale wintery glow was shining from the streetlight through the large window in the office. I picked up the phone. I called Diamond. I got the numbers. Our world fell apart. The preordered numbers from Diamond were about 1/10 of the number that we had hoped for and 1/3 of the number that we feared. My heart sank to my bowels as Diamond's Glenn read the numbers to me. I was silent, stunned, shocked, and desperate. In comics, there is no 'second try'. Here in the U.S. comic books are monthly phenomenon. They're solicited, preorders taken, shipped, and forgotten. They're not like normal books that are kept on retail shelves for years. They're periodicals, disposable, and sometimes collectable. We were sitting not-so-pretty in a market turned sour, dominated by a few large distributors fighting for the scraps of the remaining large publishers. No one, nobody, cared for the little guys with a few nice European comics. I hung up the phone with a pale moan. My coaster on the wall mocking me; "It is not the size of the dog in the fight, it is the size of the fight in the dog" Anton and Debra were both looking at me, silently waiting for me to tell them the numbers. They had worked hard too. Their eyes were screaming 'what did he say'. Outside, like nothing had changed, the streetlight kept on shining in its pale wintery way. Installment 9: "The Smell of Print"People who start companies must all be a little insane. There is so much work, so many risks, and so much pain involved — that it is a wonder that any companies have been started at all. There are also rewards, however. Though not many businesses ever provide their owners with substantial returns, there is the reward of accomplishment. It is an incredible thing, when ideas become reality. When the thoughts that brewed in your grey matter, and that you labored long hours over, is finally in the real world. It was just another pale windy Fall day in Minnesota when we got our first batch of Comics delivered. This was it. This was *our* product. The pungent, exciting smell of print permeated the office. Our baby had arrived and our proverbial cigars smelled like print. The sweet smell of print. To the three excited people in the office, the smell of print was the smell of accomplishment. It did not matter that we had sold less than 10% of what we had printed. This was it! We had built it, and now they would come. The books, looked great! There were no errors, all the pages in each book were there. I believe that it is the sense of accomplishment that drives the world forward. For the few hours that we rejoiced in our production, it did not matter that there was no light at the end of long tunnel to be seen. Only with strength of will, desire for accomplishment, and a little insanity does one venture into a dark tunnel . And for days, months and years, I would travel in that that darkness, and no light was to be seen.
Installment 10: "The Long Road"A brief recap. After months of research and fundraising, Anton, my partner, and myself have managed to fund and establish a company called 'Fantasy Flight Publishing, Inc' in order to start a business translating, publishing, and marketing European comic books.It is in the Fall of 1995 when our first batch of comics arrive, and it becomes obvious that we need a change of business plan. After we ship our first small orders, the question was 'what now?' Not being in the mind-set to give up, there was nothing to do but to roll up the sleves and try to make our situation profitable. If not, we would run out of cash in no time. I had always felt that these comics would sell the best in the book market — so I began the hard struggle trying to place our books in places like Barnes & Noble, Waldenbooks, Borders, and B.Dalton bookstores. I rang and I rang. I wrote letters and sent samples. I got 'no' and runarounds to no end. I left messages with buyers, I faxed buyers. I dreamt of stupid buyers in my sleep. Finally I was told enough times that the *only* way that book buyers would even consider my products was if the books were available through the "Ingram Wholesale Company." Thus I began the renewed fruitless motion calling, sample-sending, and endless waiting for return-calls to get carried by Ingram. Ingram finally told me that they did not want to deal with small publishers like us, and that we needed to be represented by a 'distributor' and gave us a list of distributors that may want to work with us. Again, I called and called, sent samples, and read informational brochures (these were the days before web-sites, hell I didn't even have an email at the time). And *finally* a distributor, let's call them 'The Crazy Company' decided that our books were nice, and that they would like to distribute our titles. So, are you getting this? In order to *even be considered* by the bookstore chains, we needed to be represented by Ingram, to be represented by Ingram, we needed to be carried by a distributor. So, we got enrolled by The Crazy Company (TCC for now). TCC wanted exclusive rights to sell our books (which we gave them, with the exception of the comic book distributors). They also wanted inventory in their warehouse, of which we had to pay for the space, and they wanted thousands of dollars to have a listing in their bi-annual catalog. For all this, they promised, we would be available through Ingram, and the talented sales-people of TCC would represent our wonderful books to the book trade. So, after all that work, we sat back and waited for the orders. And we waited and waited. After January 1996 turned around, our pockets were running dry and we needed more money. We had to ask Debra Pickett to leave, since we simply couldn't afford to pay her anymore. Debra was a great employee and a wonderful person, and I wish her the very best wherever she is in the world (I have not been in contact with Debra since sometime in 1997). After a series of optimistic presentations by yours truly, we managed to raise another batch of cash from our investors, who, gods knows why, still trusted in our ability to make this a viable company. We needed to produce more books, as well, it was important that we did not let down the small number of fans who really did like our books. During this time we got in contact with a PR consultant, and, by his cunning, Channel 2 even did a small TV spot on our company (which, for some reason they STILL air sometimes late at night, much to the shock of friends, co-workers, and relatives, who cannot believe that they saw me on TV, and that I was skinny once too). I did a radio-interview with MN public radio as well, which I am not sure if they ever aired (I think that I blew rocks in the interview — it really was a strange environment to be in). So, anyway, we were scrambling, running in many directions, trying to find a footing. Yet optimism prevailed, and we had high hopes for our next two books that would be printed in March 1997. We had found a new printer that could make a smaller production at lower costs. We still had not heard anything from The Crazy Company, but they were still promising big things just around the corner. The bitter cold of the winter of 1996 blew around us. A pale Burnsville was cracking in ice, snow, and February, and we were hoping for the best. In a few weeks our two new books would roll of the presses, and in a few weeks The Crazy Company would have lots of book market orders for our books. Sometimes, when the icy winds blow and the winter grows dark outside, you can just *hope* for brighter days. And sometimes you hope that your hope is strong enough that the strength of it alone will bring out the sun. Yet, for poor Fantasy Flight Publishing, even darker days loomed ahead.
Installment 11: "Alone"With Debra gone, her chair and desk ominously vacant, Anton and I set out to continue the good fight.Smack. The fight got harder when comic market orders finally came in for the two new books that we were printing. You see, we thought that the numbers couldn't get any worse. But they did. Our total standing orders for the next two books were about 300 copies per book TOTAL. On top of this bad news, The Crazy Company ("TCC" -- our much hated Book Market Distributor) was still not coming through with any orders. This is the type of speak that we heard from TCC: "Oh, Hi, Thanks for calling — how are you doing? Orders? As, yes — orders! Well, we are still very excited about the possibilities for these books, and we expect the mass market buyers to take these books within the next 2-6 weeks." The "2-6 weeks" was first promised in early December. It was now mid-March, and the excitement was growing cold. On top of this, Anton was starting to fade. After months and months of needed optimism, required energy, endless planning and fundraising only resulting in disastrous results, it had become evident to me Anton was secretly giving up. He started spending more and more time in his room during the day, he was not working on the (however little) accounting paperwork that needed to be done, and he had lost all willingness and excitement to push 'a little extra' which we very much needed. While Anton was slowly fading, I spent my time pursuing sales leads, putting together sales presentation packages, and, more than anything, tried to raise more money. After the second batch of comics had shipped, we were again running low on funds. I was starting rapidly loose faith in TCC and their empty promises, and the business of comics looked like a nest of vipers.. In those lonely and desperate hours of April 1996, a few new creative projects starting taking shape in my mind. I would NOT give up. I would NOT be a failure. I REFUSED to simply walk away from all the investors and the money that they had entrusted me with. This was not the way things were supposed to work! It was not supposed to be this hard, this punishing. Was it? In late April, Capital City, one of two remaining Comic Book distributors in the country, collapsed and was purchased by Diamond Comic Distributors — now the only comic distributor in the country. Thus the 'bible' of new comic book products became the monthly behemoth 'Previews': a phone-book sized publication that should not be dropped on dogs and younger siblings for fear of injury. The comic market had almost completed its downward spiral now, and the small publishers were now completely lost in the vastness that is PREVIEWS. The large comic book publishers all have extensive full-color sections in the front of Previews, while the smaller publishers were buried in thousands of solicitations along with all sorts of 'pop culture' items, video's, posters, action figures, superman flavored lipstick, games, and trading cards. A few weeks after the Capital City news, Anton informed me that his visa was not being renewed, and that he was forced to leave the country within 4 weeks. Now, as mentioned above, I knew that Anton was slowly slipping away, and these news did not come as a great surprise to me. It was obvious that Anton wanted to return to his native Indonesia and start a 'real' job after the little comic-book adventure was nearing its end. Except, of course, I, the stubborn masochist partner, would not LET it end. I wanted to keep fighting, and Anton did not. After an uneventful 4 weeks Anton left the company. It was late May 1996, and I was now alone.
Installment 12: "Morten, Sarah, and the Taxman" Part ISo I was alone. Anton had packed his bags and had returned to Indonesia. This left me to manage a business with severe cash problems (a condition that exists when you have no cash and many bills to pay, duh), trying to produce and sell merchandise into a green and sickly comic-book industry. Our book-market dreams were fading as we recognized The Crazy Company for what they were… Crazy.A serious change in direction was needed. But changing the direction of a ship takes propulsion (cash) and a new map (new business plan). A good childhood friend of mine from Denmark, Morten Nyhuus, was studying business, and came over to Fantasy Flight to fulfill his business-school internship for 2-3 months. He arrived towards the middle of May (actually during Anton's last days). So I was not really alone, I had Morten to keep me company and help me to press forward. When we published our first batch of books to the specialty comic markets, there was a number of retailers who contacted us directly to order our books. They were unhappy with the U.S distribution situation, and wanted to carry our books on an ongoing basis (not just for 1 month). Now, these stores were mainly larger, 'full line' book and comic-book stores that catered to a wide, mainly urban, audience. The stores knew that we published "Lucky Luke", "Spirou", "Percevan", and "Johan & Peewit", but many of these retailers were also looking for good source for the more widely-known European comic books 'Tintin' and 'Asterix'. I smelled an opportunity to sell more product (and our company needed the additional revenue very badly) So I began a relationship with the English language publishers of Asterix and Tintin. We started to buy them in bulk from the publishers and selling them on to the retailers that we worked with. We made about a 20% margin on our sales, and these extra products made us more valuable to the retailers. We had started a small 'distribution' business for European Comics. Now, this 'distribution' business started to become a little heavier after Capital City Distribution (the large U.S comics distributor) was purchased by Diamond Comics Distribution. Many of the retailers that we dealt with started asking us "can you please get X and X products also?". This started the seed of a business that would be called 'Downtown Distribution' and would become an important step in our future. In response to the poor sales of our larger comics, I felt that maybe our format was wrong. Therefore I started an initiative to publish a series in the standard U.S format. We felt that a highly acclaimed European science fiction series was paticularily well suited for this. 'Valerian' it was called. Thus I started to work on the production and financial planning for this possibility. In the meantime, we were trying to sell our books and our 'distribution' books as well as we could. In order to really promote ourselves, however, Morten and I felt that we needed to 'get out there and show the products', so we planned to exhibit our books at a number of trade shows and conventions that summer. We bought an old green velcro convention display (that was stored in the attic of the Skyline Display company), and we prepped my little Ford Escort station wagon for the country-wide drive. Leaving Within a span of 3 weeks, we would drive to the following conventions: the ABA Bookshow in Chicago, DRAGON CON in Atlanta (and its S.T.A.R.S trade-show component), Chicago Comic-Con, and San Diego Comic Con. In addition to my expanding vision for distribution of comic books, I started doodling around with a game-design that had long been in my mind. During late nights at my desk I started creating the gameplay and prototype components for a boardgame I called 'Twilight Imperium'. Morten and I would drive down to the local Burnsville games store (Phoenix Games, Burnsville now out of business) and test our game with the great people there. As much as I appreciated the comics business, you see, my first love was hobby games. So, as you can see, multiple things were going on at the same time. I was looking seriously at expanding the 'distribution' part of the comic book business (buying other people's books and selling them to the network of retailers that we were working with), I was slowly developing a boardgame, and we were preparing to go on an extensive convention tour of the country. Yet, about 4 weeks after Morten arrived, we started getting strange notifications and warnings from the Internal Revenue Service. In response to this we started searching through Anton's messy records and drawers. Much to my horror we found multiple opened and unopened letters from the IRS, warning us that we were seriously overdue on our income tax withholding. After a few days of investigation, it became dangerously clear that Anton had faded sooner than anyone had thought. He had not paid payroll withholding taxes for virtually the whole time the company had been doing business, and now, as Anton had fled to Indonesia, the tax man was seriously pissed at me and our little cash-starved company. Not only did we unexpectedly owe a high 5-figure dollar amount to the tax man for back-taxes, the IRS was also planting a huge fine on our company for the error. So there we were, two Danish boys in Burnsville, the CEO and the Intern. Debt was starting to build as we couldn't pay our printers for the books that we had just printed (since sales were too low), the tax-man wanted my hide, and, on the sales end, there was really no hope in sight. That was Fantasy Flight's darkest hour.
Installment 13: "Morten, Sarah, and the Taxman" Part IILooking back across the years at the summer of 1996, I shake my head and sadly smile. FFG had now been in business for one year, and I was much the wiser, but none (or less) the richer. My partner had departed, leaving us in a messy tax situation (I blame myself for letting it get out of hand), our sales were terrible and it was clear that our original business premise was not going to work.With energy conjured from an unknown place in my body, I started to visualize ways to dig us out of the hole. In my mind, there was three initiatives taking form:
With these three initiatives, I wrote another business-plan and managed somehow to raise more money for the business. The fact that I could raised a dime of capital at this time is the greatest testament to the loyalty and foresight of the FF investors. Somehow, even in this dark hour, I must have managed to communicate enough optimism and clarity of vision to receive additional funds. This incredible trust has been one of the key principal motivations for me to continue Fantasy Flight when things got tight and we struggled. To this day, I simply *will not* betray down the trust that was given me. So, we got some more money in (not much, but enough to move forward), and it was obvious that I needed to hire another person for the accounting/finance portion of the company. I called the career-development center at St. Olaf and faxed them a job-description. We got 2 or 3 applicants for the position (June is a perfect time to get applications from new college graduates). This was when Sarah Lueck entered the company history. Sarah was a Business/Accounting major from St. Olaf, and she — very bravely, took the plunge to work for FFG for a bare-bones salary in a company with a shaky financial situation. To this day, the company maintains Sarah's discipline and accounting systems. She dove into Anton's Quickbooks setup (our accounting software since 1995 — and still is). Anton had, as with many other things, left the accounting systems and software in complete disarray. The system had not ever been used properly for inventory, control, accounts control, payroll — anything. Anton had not even reconciled *a single* bank-statement in the 11 preceding months. Sarah rolled up her sleeves and got to work. Most of Sarah's work on our tax-situation and our accounting systems were done while Morten and I traveled through country on our 'convention tour' (my brother Anders and another friend from Denmark also joined us for this trek). It was the first week of July, and we hit the road in two cars (my Ford Escort station wagon and a rented car). So, we were off to the unknown world of conventions and trade shows, I had just raised a little more money, and the impressive Sarah was at home in the office/apartment digging into our taxes and accounting. As the highway streamed its asphalt under our tires, we were heading into a new year and a new period for the company.
Installment 14: "The Road Of Pain"With Sarah safely in the Office working on our accounting and our tax-troubles, we headed out for our 'Lucky Luke' convention tour. There were four of us, Morten, my brother Anders, a friend named Thomas, and myself.The trip would go like this: First we would be at the ABA Bookfair in Chicago to promote our comics, then we would head to Atlanta to partake in Dragon Con's 'STARS' trade show for comics, then in an overnight race — we would speed back to Chicago to exhibit at the Chicago ComicCon. We would then return to Minneapolis for a 3 day break, and then drive the long road to the San Diego Comic Con. We arrived at the ABA Fair. We all dressed up in fancy suits for what would be 4 days of extreme boredom. We had a small booth in the corner of the 1st floor of the Javits Center, there was not that many people, and the interest in our books was pretty much zero. The other three spent much time walking the convention center, sleeping in the small curtain space behind our booth, or sleeping in back at the Hotel. I would not give up, however. Adamantly I stood with a smile and a shining Lucky Luke giving the 'spiel' to anyone who would listen. 95% of the people who stopped by our booth actually didn't care about what I was selling. They tried to sell *me* stuff like printing services, warehousing, markeing, advertising, magnets for your fridge, you name it. Keeping smiling, I told myself. Keep smiling. The one shining moment at the ABA was a California specialty distributor that placed a $500 order of our comics. Otherwise, it was an ultimately boring (for the others) and depressing (for me) experience. Yet, the future holds unlimited potential. After the ABA, I refreshed myself with the thought that the DRAGONCON STARS could only be better — and at least this would be a 'hobby' industry show, and there was bound to be more attention to Lucky Luke here. I was wrong. The two-day STARS show was another disaster. No one really cared about our little books. Anders, Morten, and Thomas left the convention and toured Atlanta attractions — saw the Coca Cola museum, took a tour of the partially built Olympic Village, and hung out on the humid streets in front of the Hotel. In the meantime I spent hour after hour looking at the piss-yellow wall from across our booth. There seemed to be very little "Lucky" in Lucky Luke. Perhaps the best thing that came out of STARS was that this was my first brush with the Hobby Games Industry. Many games vendors: Holistic, Wizards of the Coast, Atlas, and many others were there with their games (mostly CCG's at this time). Whereas the comics were slow and depressing, there was active business and enthusiasm among the games vendors. I thought of my developing TWILIGHT IMPERIUM game, and became secretly excited about joining this cool bunch. At about noon the second day, two Huge African American Union employees started dismantling our booth without our permission. The STARS show did not end until 4 O'clock, but the 'Union' wanted to clear the space for another vendor (selling super-hero statues or something like that) that was exhibiting for the whole DRAGONCON show after STARS. We literally got pushed out of our booth, Lucky Luke books got trampled, and two very unpleasant sour ladies from the 'statue' company starting throwing our stuff in the trash and gave us evil looks for being in 'their booth'. Sniff, we were supposed to be there until 4 O'clock. The whole episode was like min-ianalogy for our comic book business. "They didn't care and world threw us in the trash!" We left Atlanta in afternoon, and raced towards Chicago. The Chicago Comic Con was starting the very next day (and it is a long drive from Atlanta to Chicago). I got a nasty speeding ticket in Tennesee ($120 for going 72 in a 65mph). All in all I was deadly tired, unhappy, and the road of pain was long before us. Stay tuned for the next installment "California Dreaming!"
Installment 15: "California Dreaming"So we arrived in Chicago at about 4 O'clock in the morning, and here (at our hotel) we collected the first printed batch of our European comics in the U.S "standard" entitled "Valerian: Heroes of the Equinox". The comics had been specially shipped from our Canadian printer directly to the hotel. We hoped that "Valerian" would be a good attraction for the Chicago ComicCon audience and perhaps a road sign for a new company direction. So at 10 O'clock--a few short sleepy hours after crashing at the hotel--tired and drained, we dragged ourselves, to the Chicago/Rosemount Convention Center and set up our little booth. We proudly displayed our books on the table and were ready for some 'big turnaround action'. As you might have guessed, that action never arrived. We sold perhaps 5 or 6 Valerian comics and an equal amount of graphic novels over the next few days. The lack of success was starting to wear on us, and the three days of the show dragged on. Sunday afternoon we finally packed our booth into the car and got on the road for the relatively small drive back to Minneapolis (about 6-7 hours northwest of Chicago). During those hours of driving I mentally crossed off the 'European Comics in U.S format' business. Positive reaction from the retailers and consumers that we met was simply lacking. So, FF was down distribution of other companies' products, and then the little initiative that was that game TWILIGHT IMPERIUM. On the way home we dropped off my brother Anders at the Chicago Airport (he was flying back to Denmark), and we crunched our way through the forestry Wisconsin once again. The next week was spent in discussions with Sarah. Sarah had gotten the IRS to remove our penalties and were now in reasonable shape with taxes (though our coffers were dangerously low). Sarah had also begun a reorganization of the Quickbooks accounting system; things (from an administration point-of-view) were starting to look pretty sharp. After a few days of resting from the long trip, I continued to develop TWILIGHT IMPERIUM, we actually got a preliminary cover created (which looked great). Secretly, I was starting to get excited about the possibilities of becoming a game manufacturer. As I was working on TI, we also starting preparing for the long road-trip to the San Diego Comic Con: the largest pop-culture convention in the country. San Diego would be our final test for our comic book publishing business. It was a 'do or die' in California. It really came down to that. About 5 days after arriving back from Chicago, we set out again for the blue skies and sandy beaches of San Diego. We had a great print of the TWILIGHT IMPERIUM cover stuffed in our bags, we had our comics, a case of Mountain Dew, and what was left of our pride. Please stay tuned for the next installment of the FFG serial history "Sun, Fun, and Failure".
Installment 16: "Sun, Fun, & Failure"So, when I last left you, we were driving to the San Diego Comic Con to showcase our comics. How many of you have ever taken a cross-country trip? It is actually quite amazing. From the fertile, dull farmlands of the Midwest, to the hills and prairies of the Great Plains. From the plains into the greenery and morning mists of the Eastern Rockies, and then down into the yellow haze of the craggy desert in the west. I have taken this cross country trip by car about 4-5 times in my life and I am looking forward to the next chance that I get to undertake this great journey. Anyway, back to 1996. Morten, Thomas (a Danish friend), and myself drove from Minneapolis (Burnsville actually) to Nebraska, then Colorado, and on our third day we took in the Grand Canyon and that night checked into the "The Sahara" hotel in Las Vegas. Over the next two days we gambled a little, drank a little, and enjoyed the sun and the alien wonder that is Las Vegas. I remember the weather during this short Vegas break was very, very hot! Thus I managed to contract a serious sun-tan (first painfully red, then handsomely tan) before we pulled out our plugs and continued to San Diego via L.A. As you may have deduced by now, our journey was partially a vacation trip for us all. Morten and Thomas wanted to see more of the U.S., and I needed to de-stress a little from Fantasy Flight. The next day we visited one of my old friends in L.A for 2 days (hey Ty Gabriel, are you out there?) and set on our final short stretch from L.A to San Diego. So it was, that on our 7th day of the journey/vacation, we rolled into beautiful downtown San Diego. The crisp white convention center, right down by the ocean, was simply stunning, and for the first time – I walked into the set-up hall of a truly major convention. There is just something about the setup day before a major convention! I am an old shark at these shows now, but I can still feel the energy, the buzz, and the radiant excitement that I never really sense anywhere else. Every year we enter the dim-lit hugeness of the Gen Con, Origins, Essen Spiel, San Diego, whatever, hall to set up our displays and new wares. A hundred or so other companies are doing the same – and there is just this sense of anticipation and promise; an elusive promise of glory and fortune that the next 3-4 days may bring. A sense of excitement to be with thousands of other people that share your excitement about comics, games, etc. An anticipation to meet the 'masses': the population of consumers that may lift you up or cast you down. It is just there, this 'air' before a major show, and no words of mine can actually truly describe it. So there we were, in the shadows of the giant booths of Marvel, DC, Wizards of The Coast (etc). We had a small 10x10 booth, and in a manner of minutes our small green Velcro display with its small posters was up and our products tastefully displayed on the table in front of us. After all the sun, the fun, and the smell of a major convention – how did it go? You'll know in my next serial rant: "Sun, Fun, and Failure Part 2."
Installment 17: "Sun, Fun, & Failure" Part IISo we had arrived at San Diego, we had breathed the air of the huge convention hall, we had set up our miniscule booth, and now we needed a hotel. Oh, boy did we need a hotel! In our youthful mindlessness we had not reserved a one in advance. How we failed to consider that 30,000 comic book fans would invade the town for the weekend, remain a mystery to me. We looked for hotels around San Diego for almost 4 hours until we found a little hole-in-the-wall place that would take us in for 4 days. It smelled like old cheese in the room, but otherwise we all agreed that it would beat sleeping in the car. San Diego, by the way, is a gorgeous wonderful city of sun and light. I have not visited SD since 1996, but to this date it remains one of my favorite cites in the world (up there with London, Copenhagen, and Minneapolis). So, the show started, with its humongous lines of people waiting for their tickets. We were upbeat and excited. Four days of promise were in front of us! Except, as you might have guessed, in the end, those four days were not very exciting for us. After the first day, it was clear that we were facing a repetition of what we met in Atlanta and Chicago: apathy and indifference. By the time the third day had turned, the only interest we had encountered was from retailers who wanted to buy TINTIN and ASTERIX at wholesale, and a great deal of people expressing interest in the cover-art and premise for our proposed TWILIGHT IMPERIUM game. In other words, for our comics business, the San Diego Comic Con was the last step in the realization of failure. We failed in Atlanta, we failed in Chicago, and finally we failed in San Diego. The writing was on the wall baby, Fantasy Flight needed a dramatic change of direction. Our friend Thomas left for Copenhagen via the San Diego airport that Sunday morning, and that night Morten and I packed up our small booth, got in the car, and headed for home. And oh boy, did we head for home. We decided that we would drive straight through from San Diego to Minneapolis. Do you have any idea of how far that is? It was stupid, it did not make sense, but we did it. Through the night desert, through the mountains, through the plains, through walls of sleep we finally arrived 36 hours later in the early morning of the third day, in Minneapolis. Along the way, we talked much, and there were long periods of silence. Here I contemplated the direction of Fantasy Flight. It was perhaps in that sleep-deprived, back aching euphoria that I stubbornly decided to stay the course and press on with the company. It was perhaps in that first sunrise over the Nevada Desert that the future of Fantasy Flight was born. So, our 'tour' had ended in utter failure, its end marking the closing of a chapter in FFG's history. Morten went back to Denmark a few days later, leaving Sarah and myself in the small office in Burnsville. There we were, stuck in the wind, up against all the elements of modern world small business. Please stay tuned for the next installment in my serial rant "Downtown Distribution."
Installment 18: "Downtown Distribution" Part IIn the preceding 17 rants, I have taken you from the very beginning of the Fantasy Flight idea in Northfield during 1994, through our acquisition of seed-capital and start in 1995, and finally to our summer time struggle with sales, debt, and cash flow in July 1996. You have learned about our business to publish European comics, you have learned about our fledgling wholesale business, and you may have gleaned the beginnings of our game business with the slow rise of TWILIGHT IMPERIUM. When I last left you, we had just returned from the San Diego Comic Con, and I had fundamentally decided to cease our publication of European comics and focus on the two other elements in the FFG business: Distribution and Games. Today I will tell you about Downtown Distribution. You see, the activity that had made FFG the most revenue to that date was actually the wholesale and distribution of *other* books. Up until July 1996, we had mainly sold other books that were very similar to our own – the two most popular being the TINTIN and the ASTERIX comics. We had an ongoing concern with these sales, and I now decided that, at this point, I needed to focus on this revenue creator to stabilize my debt-laden business. At the time, we simply did not have the money to print the very expensive TWILIGHT IMPERIUM game, even though our feedback had been very positive. Not long after arriving back from the San Diego Comic Con, we were informed that Diamond Comic Distribution was buying their only remaining competitor – Capital City Distribution. This left an angry backlash among many of the comics retailers that we were dealing with. I was asked repeatedly by retailers in the days after the acquisition "if we could expand our distribution" to more products. Many retailers wanted a good distributor alternative to Diamond Distribution, and I was in a favorable position to help them. Thus "Downtown Distribution" was born. I decided to grasp the opportunity to begin a serious distribution of comic books and graphic novels to U.S hobby retailers. Over the next several weeks, I began negotiations with a large amount of comic book producers to become a wholesale distributor for their products. I called the distributorship 'Downtown Distribution'… a name that would brand the second era of Fantasy Flight's history. The idea was to provide both 'frontlist' and 'backlist' service for the retailers. "Frontlist" being the concept of soliciting for comic books that have not been published yet (taking pre-orders) and shipping those orders when the comics finally arrived. "Backlist" is selling products that are readily available and in-stock with the distributor. Up until July 1996, FF had provided about 30-40 retailers with a 'backlist' service of TINTIN and ASTERIX books. Now that selection would be expanded – and we would start creating a Frontlist ordering program as well. In order to become a distributor you need at least two key ingredients – customers and vendors. We already had a nice handful of customers (who were actually requesting additional products), so our main objective was to open a number of key vendors. After a few weeks of sending out presentations and proposals for Downtown, I started to finalize deals with about 20-30 Comic Book vendors (all small companies… the large publishers like DC, Marvel, and Image had signed exclusive contracts with Diamond). With those accounts in place, we then needed a prime vehicle to solicit our frontlist and backlist items (as well as present the company to new retail customers). Thus SKYLINES was created. The SKYLINES monthly catalog was created as competition to Diamonds massive 'Previews' monthly publication. Creating such a catalog project would become a massive undertaking for Sarah and I. Because all the information that we needed to collect, and due to the required advance information flow required from publishers, the first SKYLINES catalog did not ship to our retail customers until October 1996. In the period between, from July to October, we focused heavily on stocking and increasing our backlist sales. We also started the liquidation of our large stock of European Comic books to get cash to finance the distribution business. While all this was happening, the TWILIGHT IMPERIUM project was slowly moving forward. The simultaneous events of TI and my first GEN CON appearance in 1996 will be told later at a more appropriate time. For now, Downtown was the breadwinner, and my beloved game was a mere twinkle in our corporate eye. Join me in a few weeks, when I continue our distribution tale in "Downtown Distribution part II".
Installment 19: "Downtown Distribution" Part IIWhen I last left you, we had finally dropped the publication of European Comics, and we had fallen into the role of distributing Comic Books and Graphic Novels in a downward consolidating market. As I tell the history of Downtown, many things are happening at the same time. Fantasy Flight will publish our first game "Twilight Imperium" in May 1997, yet the complete story of Downtown Distribution lasts until March 1998. In the next few rants, I will finish the tale of Downtown Distribution so that I can tell the tale of Fantasy Flight Games in a comprehensive and un-interrupted fashion. So, Downtown Distribution, here we go. Wholesale Distribution is both an easy and a tough business, pending on your point of view. You do not need to worry about creating cool products, or invest a great deal of money into any one product or vision. Mostly – if something sells well in the market – you can buy it, and re-sell it at a profit. You are not a market maker, you are a market facilitator. This is why, in some ways, distribution is an easy business. It is also a difficult business, however, because your profit margins are very low on anything that you sell, and competition can be very fierce. Typically a distributor gross profit margin will be about 20% of his revenue. That means for every $100 in sales, you make $20 in gross profit. With this $20 you have to pay salaries, marketing, travel, rent, etc. Even so, this 20% margin would be pretty sweet if you sold *everything* that you buy, yet this is often far from the truth. If I buy 10 copies of Comic A from XYZ publisher, I get my money back after selling 8 copies. If the comic only sells 4 issues, I have lost half my money invested. If one copy is damaged in the warehouse, I loose half my potential profits on the whole SKU (SKU is business lingo for an 'Individual Product Item', I fail to remember what the actual letters stand for!) Anyway, I am probably boring half my rant-readers to tears with this detailed business talk. In either case, Downtown was born with a fatal problem: the 'easy' part of the distribution formula was severely impaired. This of course, was why a cascade of other comic distributors that had recently failed, but – in my arrogance, I felt that I could do better. The 'easy' part of distribution, as explained above, is the fact that you plug into the product stream of what sells and drives profits in the marketplace. In the comic-book marketplace, however, the bestselling publishers (Marvel, DC, Image, etc) had all signed exclusive agreements with other Distribution companies (and one in particular). This left Downtown with the ability to only sell the comics/graphic novels that constituted about 5-10% of the marketplace revenue. Even with that skinny offering, we proceeded with some degree of success early on. I would say that the main reason for this success was a great enthusiasm among our retail customers to have an 'alternative' to the really big distributors out there. Due to this, you could argue that Downtown was a business that was artificially kept alive for political reasons on the part of the comic retailers that we sold to. Also, when I say 'some degree of success' you need to remember where we had come from. Essentially *any* sales was embraced and seen as a vast improvement over the last two years of hellish sales-chasing, and constant cash drain. So, over the next many months, Sarah and I slaved over the detailed logistical business of distribution. Here I learned many of the management and analysis skills that I carry with me today. Yet the ongoing Downtown business was hard, cash was tight, and a huge 'growth' spurt never did materialize. We paid ourselves very, very little. I think that I made an average of $14,000 a year during my first 3 years in business. Competing in the 'periodical' comics business (the small weekly/bi-weekly/monthly comics that retail at about $2.95) was especially difficult since these are very time-sensitive. Our main competitor (a $200 Million giant) actually had a warehouse next to the main comics-printer in Canada. From here they would fly out the comics and have them in stores about 3 days after they arrived from the press. For Downtown, we would have to wait 3 days for the comics to arrive at our warehouse, then re-package and send them out to the accounts. The Graphic Novel business (Comic books that are larger and bound more like a book, -- "Dark Knight Returns" is a good example of a Graphic Novel) was in a much better shape, however. For Graphic Novels the timeliness was not as big of a problem, and we could provide great service and price on books in stock in our warehouse. During this stage, I hired Per Bakken, a Norwegian, a good friend, and a fellow college student from St. Olaf College. Per worked at the full-fillment, shipping operations and receiving of new product. I fondly remember the presence of Per in the company – yet, by design, his job would only last for about 5 months after which he had to return to Norway. In the winter of 1996, a few months after Per started, our accounting queen Sarah Lueck decided to leave the company. She had come into the company during a very rough time, worked hard, and no magical turnaround was happening. In general things had improved, but only a little – and the distribution business presents you with much boring, repeat work, and little upside. In all, things were still pretty rough. Sarah was talented, detail oriented, and a talented person overall… so her leaving our small, struggling company was fully understandable. Sarah, wherever you are – if you are reading this, thanks again, and I hope that you are happy and that your career is on a successful track. As you know, Sarah had fixed our books and created a great accounting system for the company. I took over her duties, went through a hard learning curve (there was nobody to ask questions) but finally emerged a master of accounting and books – a role that I still fill today. Much to Sarah's honor, we use the same discipline and system that she set into work when the company was much, much smaller. So, in the early spring of 1997, Fantasy Flight was just Per and I and a ton of comics. It was a hard life, cash was low, profits still eluded us, and one side of our business (the periodicals) was growing more sickly by the week. Even though it may have been doomed at its outset, Downtown did a very important thing for the company. It created an actual ongoing business with cash flow (albeit very little) and thus Fantasy Flight was no longer in the 'precipitous fall' mode that we had been in for the previous two years. We were almost running at a break-even operation.. (Downtown actually never made a profit), and it allowed me to gain experience and to keep working towards what would become our actual future business – games publishing. Before I get into the fragile beginnings of the games business, you will have to read the last chapter of the 'Downtown' era in next Months installment 'Downtown Distribution, Part III'.
Installment 20: "Downtown Distribution" Part IIISo, we were in the late winter doldrums of February 1997. Sarah had parted ways with the company on good terms, leaving me and my good buddy Per working our small comic-book distribution division 'Downtown Distribution'. Meanwhile, our infant Games business was taking shape, -- but I will leave that story for a future serial rant. In this rant, I will complete the tale of Downtown Distribution, and complete the second era of Fantasy Flight. As explained in my previous two DD rants, our 'Graphic Novel' portion of the Downtown Distribution business was running decently, but we were slowly killing ourselves in the 'comic periodicals' business. Without a multi-million dollar investment into a country-wide distribution infrastructure, it was simply not possible for us to compete on time. You see, the comic-lovers of the U.S have become accustomed to buying their new comics on Wednesday, and that means *exactly* Wednesday and *every* Wednesday. If one retailer does not have his/her weekly fix, that customer will seek out a retailer that does. Due to the shipping time of getting the products from the printers to Downtown Distribution, we were already about 3-4 days behind the curve. Even though our particular comics were not the 'hottest' from the large companies (which were all exclusive with the main competitor), this was an increasingly insurmountable problem. First of all, the fact that most of our publications were about 3-4 days 'late' (meaning later than the large competitor) caused many of our customers to grumble and complain. Secondly, realizing this, our retailers started simply *not* ordering the more important books from us, meaning that our business was falling. Also, creating the monthly 'Skylines' catalog for the advance periodical comics was by far the most expensive and intensive process in the day-to-day business. So, as you might have guessed, by the time that May 1997 rolled around, I had decided to drop our periodical 'comics' part of the business, and focus 100% on the books and graphic novels (the 'backstock' business). Per went back to Norway that May, and I shipped out the last 'Skylines' issue to retailers that same month. So, for a while, I was alone. I continued to run the business, doing the job of two people, while starting the new 'Just Backstock' business. My friend Ron helped me out on occasion, late at night – distributing comics in the small retailer drop-boxes in the back of the warehouse. At this time we had moved out of Burnsville in the southern Twin Cities, and moved to Roseville (a central suburb adjacent to Minneapolis) where we were sharing office/warehouse space with Atlas Games. In June, helped by a personal reference from the indomitable Mr. Darrell Hardy (with whom I was working on some Game projects at the time), I hired Tod Gelle to help me with the distribution business. Tod took over the part that Per had left behind, and diligently began his (now 7 year and going) career with Fantasy Flight Publishing, Inc. It took us until August 1997 to finally wind down the periodical business (since retailers order books about 3 months in advance). After that, Tod and I worked hard buying, stocking, and selling Trade Paperbacks, Graphic Novels, Anime, Manga, and lots of pop-culture books and collected comics. Things moved along slowly, however, and the distribution business was still slowly loosing money. During these months, Tod, Darrell (who was basically volunteering his time), helped me put down the fledgling roots of what would become Fantasy Flight Games. In May 1997, I published my first game TWILIGHT IMPERIUM, and we would follow with several other games that fall. Games publishing requires a much more intense cash-investment that comics publishing and/or distribution. Even though our first games releases were indeed very successful, the distribution business was still draining our cash slowly – and took up 90% of my work hours and energy. As we published a few additional games (Golfmania, Nocturnum: Long Shades, and the DISTANT SUNS expansion), our games business was far exceeding the distribution business in both profitability and potential. So, during the spring of 1998, I decided that the business of games was going to be our best bet for success. In March, I sold the Downtown Distribution business to Cold Cut Distribution, a small California comic distribution company. Due to a very dire cash situation even after the sale, I had to undertake a long process of payment deferment and settlement with the comic publishers that had been selling us comics. This was a sad and stressful period, but I was convinced that this was best for me and the FF investors (and for our creditors as well). Thus, by April 1998, Fantasy Flight had divested itself of the last remnants of comic books. We were now traveling head-first into a new territory – into the exciting world of games. Lucky Luke was buried at last. In my third serial of the FFG history, I gave you the following mysterious phrase: "…my roots really were in gaming. In almost all ways possible, my roots had always been in gaming." This is a statement that I will explain during my next rant, entitled "The brief history of a gamer".
Installment 21: "The Brief History of a Gamer" Part IDuring the past year or more, I have given you a detailed account of the inception, birth, and struggles of Fantasy Flight. I have told the story of how the company was born to publish European Graphic Novels, to how we slowly morphed from a comic book publisher to a comic book distributor, and of the financial shroud of darkness that constantly lay upon us. Yet as I have written this serial rant, I have done so with the readers anticipating that Fantasy Flight would finally emerge into a small successful game company. So how did this come to pass? Why games? Throughout my rants I have hinted that Games were a large part of my background and interest. In one of my first rants I wrote "…my roots really were in gaming. In almost all ways possible, my roots have always been in gaming." So, what did this mean? In the next few serial rants I will indulge in a smaller biography of myself – specifically as it relates to gaming. In this way, I hope, you will acquire a deep understanding of FFG's roots, and the background of the dude that makes most of the decisions. Then you can be the judge of whether the FFG C.E.O's qualifications are sufficient for this lofty position. A Danish American. I was born at the Bethesda Naval Hospital in Washington D.C on April 4th, 1972. I don't know if it was raining, sunny, storming, or whatever. I doubt that anything major happened in the world that day. All in all, just another new cry from one of a million maternity rooms. My father was a Captain with the Marine Corps returning from Vietnam, and my Mother a Danish exchange assistant working for a Washington-area biology firm. In their splendid care, I spent my first infant year in the Washington D.C area. After my Dad decided to leave the Marines, we moved to his hometown of Chicago where he took employment with a consulting company. (I know that this does not directly relate to gaming, but bear with me). After about two years in Chicago, a terrible disruption came to my life in the form of my brother Anders, and not long after that, the young Petersen family moved to my mothers native land of Denmark. I should point out, that both the emergence of my brother and the move to Denmark happened without anyone consulting me. That is how a three year old future gaming-mogul was uprooted from the great U.S.A., and at the tender age of three was planted in the small archipelago kingdom that is Denmark. I adjusted quickly, became Danish in heart and soul, and the years went by. I was a bit of an outsider during my later childhood and early teen years. Before the inhabitants of Denmark had any idea of what a 'Death Star' was, I had become a huge STAR WARS fan (bred by gifts and images shipped from the U.S. by my U.S. grandparents). Raving and drawing STAR WARS, I was about 5 years too early for the Danes my age, and already at a tender age of 8 I was certainly branded a 'weirdo' (which arguably could apply to my current condition as well). During my early School years, I became a bona-fide bookworm and read books and books and books until my eyes bled and fingers cramped. I literally must have read thousands of books, and reading today still remains a passion of mine (as anyone who has had the pleasure of helping me move my book collection will attest to). My first encounter with gaming came around 1982, as I was visiting the U.S. with my family. We were staying at a family friends house, and their young son (my age) showed me some hand-drawn maps and character sheets for a game he excitedly referred to as "Dungeons & Dragons". He whispered how his older brothers played this game once a week, and how he sometimes was allowed to play as well (writing this, I realize that this must have been a family much like Elliots in E.T.). He told me about his D&D adventures with such excitement that I was instantly hooked. To this day, I can still remember those hand-drawn maps and those complicated sheets filled with numbers and abstract information. I never actually played a game of D&D until the following X-mas in Denmark. During that fateful evening I received the "Red Basic" and "Blue Expert" boxsets from my U.S. grandparents. I was elated. Though I really did not know anything about the game, I could *smell* adventure in the Elmore art and the thoroughly strange blue waxy dice that mysteriously required a soft white crayon to fill the dice number indents. That X-mas, surrounded by the pine smell of Christmas trees, I took my first fragile steps into the adventure hobby with my father as DM and brother as fellow adventurer. After killing my first Goblin, and after being killed by my first Carrion Crawler, I was forever captured in the possibility of gaming. Sometimes, even today, when gaming is at its best, I seem to smell a faint ghostly trace of Christmas tree pine in the air. To be continued.
Installment 22: "The Brief History of a Gamer" Part II** I must first bring a correction to your attention. In the previous serial rant I noted that my first encounter with gaming was in 1985 – when I encountered D&D. This was, in fact, in 1982 and not in 1985. thank you very much (clap, clap, clap, John, can we please edit the previous rant!). So, after the gift of D&D from the great U.S, a Danish gamer (about 12 years old) was now making his way into the world. Perhaps some of my talent (yea, laugh it up fuzzball) for creating and understanding games (and gamers) was born out of necessity. At that early time, nobody in DK (at least that I knew of) was playing any hobby games. So my only choice was to turn my friends into gamers. One by one, I introduced them to the wonders of the dungeon, chain mail, and magic arrow. Without any retail stores in which to purchase expansions, modules, etc, I created my own D&D materials, variants, and games. Thus slowly (and not all my doing) a community of gamers was born in the upper North-East of Zealand (the far East Isle of Denmark, about 40 miles north of Copenhagen). A few years went by and then -- Eureka! -- I *finally* found a hobby store in Copenhagen that carried Role-playing, Miniatures, board games etc. This was, hands down, one of the most glorious discoveries in my life. Imagine the young geeky Petersen seeing all the combined coolness of TSR, Avalon Hill, Citadel/GW, for the first time? My eyes must have been as large as dinner-plates. Here I had been hard at work on my own D&D inventions for a few years, and suddenly the mother-lode of *actual product* had been hit – spewing the gaming oil out of the proverbial Danish gaming desert. "Cool" was not a word that could accurately describe my state of awe. The store was called "Fantask" and to this day is still standing proud in the inner city of Copenhagen. Thanks for being there Fantask. Though I continued role-playing, I started playing board-games (mainly Avalon Hill stuff) – spurred by my Dad who loves the board game stuff. My dad actually bought our first hobby-board game which was AH's 'Hitler's War'. After finally learning the rules for this game (tough at my age and ability) it was in some ways just as exciting to me as D&D had been a few years earlier. As I grew older (now creeping into 15), gaming was slowly starting to connect more in DK, and I started attending the only Danish gaming convention "Viking Con". Viking Con is still around today, and I still remember my 'con number' 721. I attended the show a few years ago (in 2001 I think) as I was visiting Denmark on my way to "Spiel" in Essen. It was with some melancholy satisfaction I noted that the con had not changed much since I roamed it as an excited boy. Of course, gaming had taking its fragile roots in DK before I got my first D&D books in 1982. It had truly grown into its own by the time that I found "Fantask", Viking Con, and the other avenues of gaming (Board and Miniatures). In the mid 80's (around 1986 I think) I was caught by the Games Workshop bug, and I invested heavily into miniatures for Warhammer Battle (and later played "Space Marine – which became 40K "Epic" in later editions). Later, I also fervently dug into such great GW fare as "Blood Bowl", "Chaos Marauders", "Space Hulk" and "Dark Future". As I headed into my High School years these were the gaming flavors of the day (along with my other hobby – playing Guitar). I should also mention that board-games continued to be a wonderful part of my gaming hobby, and board games remained a constant as I delved into my various phases of miniatures, and role-playing games (such as "Call of Cthulhu"). Do you want to know what the first Christian Petersen gaming publication was? Do you? It was about 1986 when I found (or thought at least) that I had a good talent (at least in DK standards) for painting metal fantasy miniatures (mainly Citadel/GW stuff). With my ego held high, I created a small 16 page 'zine called "Learned to Paint (Fantasy Miniatures)". It was a photo-copied, poorly edited, scissors and glue Xerox job – and I priced this prized baby at $3 on consignment at the Fantask retail store. Simultaneously I placed some of my best painted miniatures on display at the store's glass display case, along with a little ad for my 'zine. Lo and behold, when I returned the week later – they had *sold out* of my entire stock of 25 copies. I had to return to my Dad's work, where I dutifully made another 25 copies on the large Xerox in the McKinsey basement. I was beaming, how cool was that, – I had made about $40, touched the gaming community in a professional way, and I was on the way to becoming the gaming monster that I am today (ever hear me roar?). I think that I bought some of those overpriced GW plastic dwarves for the $40 I made (the first plastic miniatures to be created by Citadel/GW). It was, of course, not until almost 10 years later, that I would seriously enter the gaming business. But "Learn to Paint (Fantasy Miniatures)" remains my first success. It is a nice story to tell to friends and relatives, and it helps me to sometimes remember my little 'zine to put some perspective on the massive projects that I work on every day here at FFG. Anyway, as I was enjoying the hobby of Miniatures, I still played board games – here are a few of my favorites at the time: Diplomacy, Civilization, Third Reich, 2nd Fleet, Axis & Allies, Supremacy, Junta (and probably a few more that I cannot remember). During my early high-school days I became involved with a wonderful gaming club North of Copenhagen which was called "FRN" -- short for Forenede Rollespillere i Nordsjaelland (United Roleplayers of North Zealand). Here I met many friends, some of which I still consider close friends today. We would have small gaming get-togethers on many weekends – game all day, and go clubbing all night. My gaming hobby was thus moving out of childhood and into my teenage years. As you can tell, I was a gamer – heart and soul – for most of early life. I ate it all raw and alive, Miniatures, RPG's, Board Games, Viking Con, the Hobby Game retail, all of it. It was a passion, it had a life of its own. As my entrepenurial genes started to pulsate in my High School years, I launched two gaming hobby business initiatives that would put the pale on "Learn to Paint", these were: Pegasus Spil Import, and Games Weekend. The story of these teenage exploits will have to wait until my next rant: "The Brief History of a Gamer, Part III".
Installment 23: "The Brief History of a Gamer" — Part IIII was happily gaming along in early high-school when I decided to get a little more serious, a little more involved, a little more daring. My entrepreneurial gene was starting to itch, and I had a serious infatuation for the games published by Avalon Hill (the "old" Avalon Hill if anyone cares). So I wrote them a letter, inquiring to what extent I could start a whole-sale import of their titles. Soon I received a letter back (remember this was in 1989, a good 6-7 years before email hit the thermal layer), and yes they would indeed be happy to start up a new wholesaler in old Denmark. Needless to say, I was hell-bound to make that new wholesaler yours truly. So, with a few friends, we pooled money together and started PEGASUS SPIL IMPORT (PSI): A bona-fide DK corporation. The plan was to set up a whole-sale and direct mail-order/convention company. When the order had been placed, we started making letterhead, catalogs, and the whole "first business" jazz-a-long. We were young, and extremely pumped to start this business (we were probably pretty obnoxious/cute in the seriousness of our endeavor). One of the most exciting days of my professional life must have been the day that we received the first shipment of our Avalon Hill inventory. Waiting for us at the docks, was an entire pallet full of board-games ready to hit the arms of eager Danish consumers. We loaded the inventory into my parents old green Volvo, unloaded it in my basement, and set up all the games on large grey wooden shelves. We took a pause: There they were! Glowing shrink-wrapped copies of Civilization, Diplomacy, Empires At Arms, Hitler's War, etc. So, in the next few years, I had the distinct pleasure of running a small import company selling Avalon Hill boardgames direct to gamers and through a larger chain of DK bookstores (a chain that was slowly getting into Games Workshop, Role Playing, and Board Games). I learned a lot of accounting, expectation-setting, cash-flow, and managing partners – albeit on a very small level. As you might expect, the partners (4 of us in the beginning) soon got frustrated with each other – resulting in me and my friend Jesper buying out the other partners and continued on our own. It was during the first year of running PSI, that I personally founded the north-Zealand games convention known as 'Games Weekend'. Driven by the desire to be further involved in the gaming biz, I started to engage the Danish 'Alpha' gamers, and the snobbish Danish 'profesional' gamers (whom all published little gaming 'zines) to drive enthusiasm towards another Danish convention (on the Zealand island) to challenge the mighty "Viking Con". Oh, boy are conventions a lot of work. Together with my good friend Daniel (the president of the large north-Zealand gaming club) we started to organize the grand event in the photo-copying vaults of my Dad's work. Anyone who has run a convention knows that the 'convention book' is the key promoter of your convention. In this booklet you put your blood, malice, and your will to dominate all living things. Contained in this convention book of power, is the agenda of events, adventure, and excitement that you are selling. So, we organized about 40-50 gaming events (pulling all the strings from gamers that we knew from far and wide). Including in that Games Weekend was probably the most ambitious "Call of Cthulhu" RPG event attempted to date (with 23 simultaneous groups playing the same adventure at the same time). The event, which was to held at my high-school, also needed organization for registration, a game-library, a silent auction, sleeping facilites (to this day, at Danish conventions, gamers just bring their sleeping bags and sleep in dedicated rooms or -- if the convention is at a school – sleep in the Gym), and at last – but greatest of all – food and drink service. Unlike the U.S at the time, Denmark was not a 'Fast Food' culture, and access to easy, affordable food within close proximity to our school was pretty much non-existant. We placed our convention booklets at all the major retail stores that cared about games, and sought to spread the word gamer-by-gamer, shop-by-shop. This was harder than you may think in a time where the internet was only a tale in cyber-punk fiction. Yet, I started to receive pre-registrations for our convention. Bundles of them. Each with a $15 pre-registration fee. Early on it was clear, Games Weekend was to be a success. We managed to pull in more than 150 pre-registrations, and the actual show had a turnout of almost 350 people (which at the time, and the maturity of the gaming hobby in DK, was not a small feat). During the show, our hot-dog, hamburger serving 'Cantina' was just slammed with people, and I spent most of my time managing the food-service (which in the end was extremely profitable). PSI had a sales booth in the great hall, and made a hopping business of selling board games to the convention goers. I remember selling a whole lot of 'Titan' games there (now a classic, highly collectible, game). This was a high-point in my gaming career, and likely a strong proponent of what has kept me going here at FFG. The nexus of convention, game sales, and the consumption of thousands of Coca Cola's was a gaming-business orchestra, and I was the conductor. As any rock-star will tell you: It's hard to go to bed after a great concert. We would do a re-run, equally successful, next year of Games Weekend, and PSI would continue to run over the next few years. In 1992, I left for College in the U.S, and slowly these giants of my teenage years faltered and died in my absence. Gaming had been my passion, my business, and perhaps one of the things that I understood best. Through the hard first years of Fantasy Flight's comic-book publishing days, these experiences lingered in the back of my head, and would form the back-bone of what would be the vision and discipline of Fantasy Flight Games. From the early days, the smell of pine and D&D, to the halls of Twilight Imperium, Diskwars, Lord of The Rings, A Game Of Thrones, Midnight, Dawnforge, Runebound, and Legends & Lairs, it has been an exciting ride, and you are just about to step on board the train.
Installment 24: "Fantasy Flight Games"As we were preparing our comic-book business and researching the business in the Northfield basement of Pegasus Research Group (it was early 1995) I was slowly tinkering with the idea for an epic-space conquest and economics board game in the spirit of Milton Bradley's GAMEMASTER series (Axis & Allies, Shogun, Fortress America, etc). As you may have known from previous rants, I was a long-term gamer – and a lot of creativity had slowly been stored up in my batteries when it came to games. I did not realize, at that time, that this creativity would be far more significant for the business in the long run than any comic book. The idea behind TWILIGHT IMPERIUM was one that mixed the thematic flavors of DUNE, STAR WARS, STAR TREK, and Asimov's FOUNDATION. The game play would be simple, yet involved, and would provide the players the feeling of controlling an interstaller race, complete with galactic politics, warfare, and empire-building. My idea was to take loose hexagon pieces (as I had previously seen in Avalon Hill's "Magic Realm"), so that the board (or the 'galaxy') would be new and change every time the game was played. In later years, people think that the TI map board was taken from the excellent SETTLERS OF CATAN board game. This is, of course, false – we actually were presenting TI to gaming industry professionals in 1996 when Settlers was first published in English. I did not really pursue the game idea with actual detailed prototype work and game-design until the winter of 1995/96, when it slowly dawned on me that our comic books were catastrophically underperforming. A little voice inside of me was whispering "what about a game! What about a game?" Honestly, one of the reasons that we entered the gaming industry at all, or that I felt that we had the option, was in some part due to the existence of the magazine "Comics & Games Retailer" (which was actually called "Comics Retailer" at the time). As a comic book publisher, we received this industry magazine every month – which covered the comic book and hobby gaming industry simultaneously. You see, in the U.S at least (and in Denmark as well) there is a huge overlap among retailers that sell comics and games. In my experience about 75%-90% of all "comic" retailers carry at least some games (mainly CCG's) and visa-versa. Also, the magazine was ripe with game distributor information, industry sales figures, tips, feed back, etc. So, after many months of reading C&GR – mainly to learn about the comics indutsry, I finally found the courage to make a final decision to plunge into the gaming biz as well. It was in that bitterly cold month of February 1996, that the name TWILIGHT IMPERIUM was born. We had a good friend and artist, Bill Heagy, create the first TI cover which was digitally colored. We hired a comic-book design agency to design the logo and presto – here was the final result.
Getting TI published, however, proved to be quite an ordeal and much more difficult that previously imagined. I presented the game publishing idea to the Fantasy Flight board of directors in April 1996, and I got an enthusiastic – but cautious -- "Thumbs Up". Yet we were still struggling to make the comic-business work, and we were also starting the infant Downtown Distribution. In addition (unknown at that meeting) Anton would leave the company and go back to Indonesia only 6 weeks after the meeting had taken place (see prior rants for the riveting simultaneous history of the other activities). Yet despite the mountains ahead, TI would not be held back. Its final publication was to be more than a full year later, but would change me and my company dramatically.
Installment 25: Pax Magnifica Bellum Gloriosum"Magnificent Peace, Glorious War" seemed an appropriate tag-line for Twilight Imperium. At its heart, TI is both a game of intense politics and trade, as well as a game of conquest and war. I decided to publish the tag-line as Latin text under the TI logo, as I thought that it here achieved a sense of both mystery and a sense of history. I wanted to give TI a sense of "epic-ness," and the sweeping Latin phrase set the exact mood that I wanted to project as the presentation and the soul of TI.It was during the bone-cold months of December-March 1996, through countless hours of many days and more nights, that TI finally came together. Working tirelessly by my computer, I slowly finalized the manufacturing and graphic design of the TI rules and components. Step by step I moved forward while Per was shipping orders for Downtown Distribution in the back room – keeping a trickle of cash flow alive. The music of Sarah McLachlan ("Fumbling"…, before she became huge) and U2's brand new "Pop" kept me awake and moving forward. It was hard work! Having only put together comic books in the past, most of the issues of board game graphic work and manufacturing were new to me. During the ordeal, I became quite adept at "Macromedia Freehand" after designing at least 35 different spaceships for the 6 races in TI (and 2 more races for the Borderlands). Alongside TI, we would publish the Borderlands expansion set, which provided additional game board hexes, more races, and a plethora of additional game rules for TI. By printing the expansion with the main game, it allowed us to print the expansion at a reasonable price, as well as showcase the expandable nature of TI right away. Publishing a board game (especially a big board game) is very expensive, and FFG was running out of money. Even the small sum that TI required (about $25,000), was simply too much for us to handle. We needed a loan or more investment dollars badly. Then, out of the blue, by no small strike of fortune, a small bank in Dundas (Minnesota) by the name of "Canon Valley Bank" was willing to take a chance on us (or "me," more likely), and the $11,000 loan that they were willing to extend was exactly what the doctor ordered. Now why would a bank have loaned us money at that time? To this day I am still not sure. I can only extend my most sincere gratitude to the president of Canon Valley Bank, Mr. Dwayne Swanson, who was so bold and generous. I did have to personally sign a guarantee for the loan, of course, and we were able to show some fairly good pre-orders for TI from game-market distributors. Yet, FFG's financial situation was a car-wreck, and getting that loan was nothing short of a little miracle (especially since I did not have any assets to speak of, so the personal guarantee could not have been that much of a factor). Thanks Dwayne! As much as Mr. Swanson was a huge factor in getting TI financed, our printing representative, Mr. Mike McNeice, was instrumental in guiding us through the process of box-making, die-cutting, and general knowledge of print-manufacturing as it relates to board games. Thus, so it was, in early April, that I shipped off a huge envelope full of Zip disks to Mike McNeice for manufacturing. The graphics were done, the game was done, the financing was lined up, and we were finally ready to make shiny new copies of my very own Twilight Imperium 1st edition. Six weeks later, when a truck showed up at the loading door of Atlas Games (with whom we were sharing offices) with a truck-load of TI and Borderlands games, we were officially in the Hobby Games business. That was May 1997.
Installment 26: Chessex Open House, Part ISo, it was early May, and I was holding my first shiny copy of TWILIGHT IMPERIUM and its expansion BORDERLANDS in my hot little hands. It was my first game, and it is hard to tell you how exciting it was to see all of the ideas, fundraising work, design, and graphic management finally be brought together in a complete package.The very smell of the newly minted games was enough to tell me that I had now, at last, seriously landed in the hobby gaming industry. Not a little fanzine. Not a small Danish convention. Not an import of Avalon Hill games. This was the real thing baby. Although it may seem to the reader of these rants (and maybe not) that I got TWILIGHT IMPERIUM to market fast and efficiently, it was actually more than 8 months delayed from when we first said that it would be published. Delays in financing and delays in actual production had made for my first (but not last) late game. Better late than never, however, and the benefit of the game being so late was that I had actually collected standing pre-orders from more than 20 hobby game distributors across the world. I set about shipping out the nearly 1000 TWILIGHT IMPERIUM games that I had pre-sold, and it was a good time. It seemed like I had been selling a phantom game forever (remember that we actually started pre-selling this game during the long summer-convention season of 1996), but now it was finally real. It was spring. It was May. The hot bright rays of the pale May sun blistered against the warehouse walls and through the narrow windows of my office. That day was probably the first day that I actually felt that I had created a real business. I was alone in the task, and alone in the revelry. Per had left for Norway, and this was still more than a month before Tod Gelle would join me in the cause. Working alone, I printed out dozens and dozens of UPS labels in long rows, I stuck them onto games, I hauled the games outside the loading doors and piled them in large stacks. I sweated like a pig, but it was good feeling. I was finally selling a serious amount of product, and I could actually see the towering stacks leaving the offices. The revenue was rapidly spiking in my accounting system. The future was looking brighter by the minute, and I had high hopes for selling many, many more copies of TWILIGHT IMPERIUM to gamers around the world. I booked more sales on that day than I had done in any one full month in the history of the company. It was a good day. Only a few days later, I left to attend the first important trade-show specifically for the hobby games industry. It was held at the warehouse of one of the largest distributors in the U.S gaming industry at the time, Chessex Distribution of Fort Wayne, Indiana. I packed about 6-8 TWILIGHT IMPERIUM games, a few BORDERLANDS, the frayed green convention display (that we had bought the year before), the large TWILIGHT IMPERIUM graphic, and my high hopes. I car-pooled down to the show with the great guys (Bob and Joel) from the local games store THE SOURCE. We met at Bob's house early in the morning, before the break of day. As the sun broke on our left, we were deep in Wisconsin heading down Highway 90 in Bob's van. Our destination was Ft. Wayne, Chessex, and my destiny in the Hobby Games Industry.
Installment 27: Chessex Open House Part IISo, I was on my way to my first Game Industry gathering in the form of the Chessex Open House trade show. My weapon of mass destruction: Shining new copies of TWILIGHT IMPERIUM and BORDERLANDS, some glossy laminated posters promoting my game (featuring our very own Hacan Tony-the-Camel-Tiger from Arretze), and a faded old green display ready for the wonders of velcro.After a somewhat grueling 9 hour straight road-trip through Wisconsin, Illinois, and most of Indiana, we finally arrived at the large white metal-siding Chessex warehouse (now called 'Alliance Midwest'), located deep in a maze-like industrial park of Don Hall's very own Fort Wayne Indiana. It was on a hot, hot day that I walked into gaming industry for the first time. Walking in, I experienced somewhat the same feeling that I had when I walked into the great convention hall at the San Diego Comic Con. A completely different place, a completely different look, a completely different smell, but nevertheless that same feeling of newness and 'arriving' at a great experience. The Chessex Warehouse consisted (and still does) of rows upon rows of tall metallic shelving units, bursting with untold quantities of different games, videos, miniatures, card sleeves, and dice. If you have ever seen a gaming industry warehouse (even FFG's own warehouse) you will know that it is a powerful mix of brown cardboard, the smell of print, and of cool fantasy/sci-fi imagery coming out of every visual and sensual pore. The Chessex staff had cleared a large area by a few of their loading doors and set up long tables for the vendors. My table was a small non-assuming one in the far corner. On my left I found myself next to a friendly guy selling a science fiction spy/horror action game, and on my right Mr. Woody Eblom from Steve Jackson games was hanging 'GURPS' covers and 'Knightmare Chess' games on a fancy mesh-wire display. It was a fun experience to see the 30 or so vendors put out their great gadgets, figures, cards, and games for proud display in the cooking, steaming hot air of the warehouse. A few Chessex employees were carrying around ice-water pitchers and cups for us, but they could do little to prevent the hundred or so people from sweating up their t-shirts, and making jokes that implied Chessex was trying to kill their vendors and move in on the publishing business themselves. In the back (the shady side, thankfully) of the warehouse, Chessex had erected a large white party tent, and beer and soda-pop was being served generously and in aplenty to the industry. After all the publishers had set up their booth, a truck-load of pizza arrived from Dominoes, and everyone was soon happy eating, drinking, soaking the sun and heat, and thoroughly enjoying just being a part of the small industry – however smelly and sweaty it may be. Just being there, feeling the energy, seeing the games, was a tremendously positive experience for me. Just in the first two hours, the games industry was already a much better than the comics industry (to me at least). To this day, I often regret not starting Fantasy Flight here in the first place. Soon night fell around us and over the tent, but large wax candles were lit and the beer still flowed in the warn evening. Retailers started to arrive (for the big showing the next day) and much industry talk was had, and I met many people that I consider friends to this day, and I learned much over a very short period of time. I was given advice that I today consider great, and I was given advice that I today consider poor. Yet it was all just such an 'experience' for the lack of a better word, and one that later really solidified my reason for staying in the games industry and being successful here. A few years later I learned that Greg Benage (now our senior Editor and Manager of the role-playing department at FFG) was at the show promoting the BLUE PLANET RPG, but I must admit that I do not remember seeing him there – that just goes to show how many people attended this show, and how many impressive new people that I met over those two days. The following day the show started with about 300 retail managers and buyers bursting in through the doors, all excited to see the vendors and to shop wholesale games in the warehouse — carting around old shopping carts provided to them by Chessex. I must have given the TWILIGHT IMPERIUM 'spiel' to all of them, at least I seem to remember doing the TI sales pitch about 300 times. With all the bodies moving around, the warehouse grew even hotter than the day before, and my voice was soon cracking from heat and exhaustion. As the heat increased, the Chessex staffers delivering ice-water to retailers and vendors were working with increasing frenzy. It was hot, it was more talking that I had ever done before, and it was very exciting. TWILIGHT IMPERIUM was hitting the market at a time when there was not a whole lot of new board games coming out (Avalon Hill was fading, and the industry was coming off a recent binge in Collectible Card Games). Thus the excitement I was able to garner for TI was perhaps better than I otherwise would have been able to achieve. I spoke to many retailers who had decided that they were going to carry the game, and carry it deep. I also got many comments that the TI packaging and presentation was impressive, especially so for a first-time game from a small company (for today's FFG standards, the old TI presentation is not so hot, but 1997 was a very different age in the gaming industry as well as for FFG). At about 5 O'clock the show finally ended, and we were whisked back into the tent for grilled steaks, chips, salad, and oodles of more beer. A great room inside was opened up for gaming, and I ran two very fun and successful games of TWILIGHT IMPERIUM to a cadre of nice and receptive retailers. At times the game even drew a small spectator crowd, and people were 'oohing' and 'aahing' at several times. A very good feeling, to say the least. After all I took the small shuttle back to the Hotel, while the indomitable (and at the time, very drunk) Fred Yelk from White Wolf who was, in jest, shouting curses at a German retailer and simultaneously (but not smoothly) talking up a female employee from Heartbreaker Hobbies. Outside, the May night passed like any other hot May night before it. Lying in my hotel bed that night, I had a very hard time falling asleep. I was half-drunk from the vast quantities of beer consumed throughout the day, and I was pumped full of the dangerous drug "smell of success". It had been a great show for FFG, and the first really great day that I had had a chance to shine in my sales efforts. Ever since that day, I have had a special little place in my heart for Fort Wayne and for the Chessex warehouse. A small part of me will always be sitting under the white tent, drinking beer from a plastic cup, nibbling a cold steak. Around me the night is dark and warm, but candles and the talk of games illuminate the faces of the people around me.
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