The pace of work remains frantic all week, but there’s a note in my diary to remind me to chase Piotr if I haven’t received his marketing strategy and budget allocations. When Friday morning rolls around and there’s nothing from him in my inbox, I’m not happy. This time, I go to him.
I don’t waste time on pleasantries. “Where is it?” I ask.
Piotr looks up. “I was just waiting for you to get in,” he says. Is that a bit of snark I detect?
“I don’t have a strategy for you,” he continues.
I open my mouth, but he holds up a finger to pre-empt me. “Because there’s nothing to buy.”
I frown. “What do you mean there’s nothing to buy?”
“All the advertising slots in the two weeks before our launch day are gone.”
“Gone?”
He nods. “Everything significant.”
“But they can’t be! It’s the height of summer. No one else is launching. Why would anyone else be wasting advertising spend?”
“I don’t know, but everyone I’ve approached is booked. YouTubers, Steam curators, game bloggers. Of course, there are tiny little outlets and guys with a few thousand followers, but all the big hitters are bust. Maybe someone worked out that this time of year is cheap and has decided on a push. If Anders hadn’t stolen my budget, I’d have had them locked down ages ago.”
“Who got them?”
He shrugs. “Does it matter?”
“What do you suggest we do?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I’ve never had this before, so I’ll have to think about it. I’m not sure what we can do. There’s still Twitch and social media ads, but they’re not going to make the big splash we were hoping for.”
I huff out my breath and try to think. But nothing comes. Zero. I’ve got zilch.
But one thing I do know just as well as Piotr. Without any marketing,The Obsidian Sigiland Cerium are fucked.
The Wrath of Cora
Having a high-quality game is not enough. Even I know there have been plenty of instances of good games tanking and taking their studios down with them. I can’t name any off-hand but I’m sure Rob could, same as any of our hard-core gamers.
On my way back to Anders’s office, I pass Ginny’s empty desk. But there’s no help there as she’s on leave. I know next to nothing about marketing a game but my intuition is telling me something is amiss.
Back in Anders’s office, I sit at his desk, tapping my fingers. The situation is dire. As soon as the investors find out about this, they’re going to be clamouring to get their money out. Once it gets around the workforce, it will trigger a mass flight. Anyone of any talent will be out of the door so fast, the ground will scorch in their wake. No advertising, no money, and soon no staff. Total collapse. And if Cerium goes down, I go with it.
I pull up Scarlett’s calendar. She’s out of the office, but she should be back in half an hour. I send a message for her tosee me ‘AS SOON AS POSSIBLE’ and try to concentrate on something else until she arrives.
For about the first time in my working life, I’m pleased to see Scarlett’s glossy head appear around the door. She does not look pleased.
“You summoned me.” There’s an undertone of recalcitrance that’s impossible to miss.
“Come in, please. Shut the door.”
Her eyebrow quirks, but she does as I ask.
“Piotr told me this morning that there are no advertising or promotion slots available in the two weeks leading up to our launch.”
“Ah.” Obviously, no surprise to Scarlett.
“You knew?”
“One of the biggest pro-Cerium influencers was asking when we were going to announce the launch date. He told me his slots were full. I took that to Piotr. Honestly, I was surprised he didn’t know already.”
