This post has not been edited by the GamesBeat staff. Opinions by GamesBeat community writers do not necessarily reflect those of the staff.


This is Part 1 of the 3-part diary I kept during E3.  It's a little late.  My motel's wifi never worked and the brief internet time I had at the show was needed for the work-related stuff.

Sure, I had all weekend, but I was still too busy/tired to bother posting it.  Not to mention, suffering serious Red Dead Redemption and Mario Galaxy 2 withdrawals. :)


"Dude, you're going to be so busy… …you're not going to have time to be nervous."

That's a paraphrasing of Area 5's Matt Chandronait's advice to me, given on Rebel FM in response to a letter I wrote about the anxiety I felt leading up to my first E3.  Despite my respect for the man, I kind of wrote him off at the time.

"Thanks…that's useful." I said to myself, sarcastically and out loud, as I sat, alone, at my computer.

Lesson 1: Heed the wisdom of the…erm…wiser — than me; The people wiser than I am…heed them.  The man was right!  That's what I'm trying to say!

Fast forward to the end of Nintendo's press conference, the morning of Day One of E3 2010.  Unable to find any wi-fi connection in the NOKIA Theater where the event was held, I run to the LA Convention Center.  After obtaining my badge holder, I drop to the floor in Petree Hall, following the lead of the many writers I see who have just done the same, and set to work typing up the highlights from the event.  This write-up takes me about an hour, which I immediately realize is far too long.

Lesson 2: Write up the conferences as they happen, not after.

Checking my schedule, my first appointment is in just over an hour.  I still have to run a mile back to my motel and check in.

It's hot.  God damn, it is hot.

Arriving at the motel, my clothes have become a portable pool.  I mourn the unfortunate servers/clerks/cab drivers I'll meet on this trip who will, inevitably, receive one of the $20 bills I hastily stuffed into my sock that morning.  Turns out, the sweet, middle-aged Korean lady at the motel counter will be the lucky first.  She hands me my room key and TV remote and I hand her a soggy leaf of green paper.

Sorry.

My room is small.  My room is very, very small.  Not that I expected more — in fact, the room has already exceeded my expectations — but if I'd had time to consider it, I would have predicted the cabin fever I'd feel by my last night in town.  But all I can think about in that moment is how thankful I am for that greatest innovation in the grand history of our species: air conditioning.

After throwing my bags on the bed, I knock back a bottle of water and devour a Clif Bar.  Mmm — breakfast.

My arm feels like it's going to separate at the shoulder.  Surely, there must be something I can safely remove from my laptop bag to make it lighter.  Power cable?  Legal pad?  Voice recorder?  Water bottle?  Pen?  Pencil?  Aha!  Pencil sharpener – gone!

Lesson 3: Buy a net book.  And a more comfortable bag.

I arrive back at the Convention Center much in the same state I arrived in at the motel.  Only now, I have about 20 minutes to navigate the building and find the booth of a not-very-big publisher.

Motherfuck, it is hot.

The bar set up outside of my first appointment's meeting room appears almost like a mirage.  Likewise, a shot of Jameson would taste like an ambrosia right now.  Fortunately, they don't have any Jameson.  This is probably a good thing.  The influence of mind/mood-altering substances may, at times, make me a better writer but I don't think it will have the same effect on my stamina, punctuality or objectivity.  Then again, my objectivity may already be colored by the free sandwich they also provided.

[ANONYMOUS PUBLISHER] are saints!

I swore to myself that I wouldn't accept any free stuff during the show, but as I fumble with my awkward legal pad, spilling water on it in the process, the almost karmically-convenient notebook they offer seems very much like a necessity.  I'll later learn, karma's tricky.

Lesson 4: Portability, portability, portability…

Exiting my appointment, I receive a phone call from my mom.  The business cards I ordered that didn't arrive in time for the show finally made it to my door earlier that morning, and she drove from south Orange County to bring them to me.  What a cool lady.  She's waiting back at the motel.

Oh, god dammit.

She's driving me back to the convention center now, as I attempt to scarf down a bean-and-cheese burrito she had left over from lunch.  A little more than halfway there, I realize the insane Figueroa St. E3/imminent Lakers game traffic has become an impenetrable wall.  I could walk faster than this…more than that, I need to walk faster than this if I'm going to make my next appointment.

I say "see you later" to my mom and "goodbye forever" to the half of the burrito I reluctantly leave behind.

Immediately, I get the chance to break out my new business cards at my next appointment.  I've never exchanged business cards with someone before.  The resulting feeling of "coolness" makes me suddenly very cognizant of the fact that I'm growing up.  I can't decide whether or not this is a good thing.

(Un?)Fortunately, playing 100 Questions with the helpful PR representative doesn't leave me much time to dwell on such trivial issues as my own mortality.

With my second appointment out of the way, I finally had time to wander around the floor.

No, wait.

What I meant to say was, I finally had time to wish I could enjoy some free time on the floor.  But I only had 20 minutes to start my write-ups for those two appointments.  So it was off the Petree Hall floor and then back on my feet to see the next thing.

By now, I'm used to the routine.  Fortunately, each one of these E3 appointments is pretty similar to the one that came before and I've hit my stride.  Talk to PR person, play the game, ask some questions, exchange cards, get their media kit, rinse, repeat.

Lesson 5: Oh yeah and remember to turn on that voice recorder.  Frick.

Now free, after a scant few minutes with Ninja Theory's Enslaved, I look up from the screen to see the other stations turned off, and two PR people looking not-very-happy with my hanging around.  I apologize and leave, steeling myself for the next mile-long walk back to my motel, with a quick stop at Denny's to eat my first actual meal of the day.

Of course, my day wasn't done yet.  I took a very necessary shower, set my laptop up on the desk and sat down to do some work and get caught up on the news of the day; maybe (finally) watch Sony's press conference.  Only…

Lesson 6: Before I book a motel, make sure the wifi actually works.