Few video game publications can claim a legacy that spans decades, let alone multiple mediums, including print, to the bitter end. Game Informer lasted a miraculous 33 years, and it likely would have kept on kicking if not for repeated rounds of staff cuts that built to an unceremonious closure last week. GameStop, Game Informer’s owner, couldn’t be bothered to give the magazine its flowers, so we’ve decided to once again turn Aftermath over to writers who deserve the chance to end an era on their own terms.
When GameStop shut down Game Informer last week, employees were stunned, forced out on a Friday and unable to say goodbye. Game Informer’s website continues to display a terse message about the closure, rendering its archives inaccessible. Some staff tried to bid readers farewell using the official Game Informer Twitter account this week, only for their post to be nuked alongside the entire account.
It’s an infuriating state of affairs, a slamming shut of the history books so sudden and thunderous that you’d think the people in charge never want them opened again. While archival projects are thankfully in the works, there’s still something to be said for a good old-fashioned eulogy. Here, in the words of former staffers, is what Game Informer was:
I haven’t worked at Game Informer for a decade now, but I’m reminded of it and thankful for it every day.
Dan Ryckert, former senior associate editor (2009-2014) and current creative director at Giant Bomb:
I got the text about Game Informer’s abrupt shutdown on Friday morning, and it took me most of the weekend to really process my thoughts on it. It ended exactly the way we always knew it would – a cold, impersonal, and unceremonious pulling of the plug from its incompetent parent company GameStop – but it’s still hard to imagine a games media landscape without Game Informer.
In 1993, I first subscribed to GI after seeing it on the counter at FuncoLand. I was nine years old and couldn’t possibly imagine the path that decision would set me on. Writing about video games for a living seemed like the wildest concept in the world to me, and it’s all I wanted to do from that point on. These guys seemed to be having so much fun with their jobs, and their passion for video games was evident on every page.
Most of my major life decisions from that point on were in service of someday working for the magazine. I got a job at FuncoLand as soon as I turned sixteen and was still there when we had to change the storefront sign over to GameStop. Two years later, I convinced GameStop to send an unknown 18 year-old video production student to GI’s headquarters to shoot a commercial for the magazine. I offered to do it for free because I just had to meet the staff and confirm that the job was as fun as I imagined it would be. While I was there, they took a picture of me playing Aquaman for the Xbox while I was wearing a shark suit (long story), and thus made my GI debut in the Jade Empire issue.
My trip confirmed that the job seemed even better than I expected. Their office in Minneapolis was the most incredible space I’d ever seen, from the CRTs and PS2s on every desk to the extensive vault filled with gaming history. As blown away as I was by the game collection and memorabilia, what really stuck out to me was everyone’s obvious love of gaming. This was their job of course, but they talked about games in the same excited way I did with my friends at school.
After years of writing reviews and hounding Andy McNamara, he called me in the summer of 2009 and offered me a job. I’d be moving to Minneapolis as one of the new editors for Game Informer. I was there for five years but the impact that time has had on me will be felt the rest of my life. I signed my employment paperwork alongside Tim Turi, who would wind up being the best man at my wedding. I got to travel the world, improve as a writer, meet countless games industry folks who I remain friends with today, and find my voice as a media personality on podcasts and videos.
I look around at the life I love today, and realize none of it would be possible without Game Informer. If Andy hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have gotten hired at Giant Bomb, wouldn’t have met my wife, and wouldn’t have moved to Minneapolis when my work went remote. I haven’t worked at Game Informer for a decade now, but I’m reminded of it and thankful for it every day.
Ben Hanson, former video producer (2010-2019) and current founder at MinnMax:
Game Informer felt like a miracle. Falling in love with video production in rural Minnesota, I couldn't have imagined that a job existed in Minneapolis that would fly me around the world to interview game developers. When I was hired as the first video producer in 2010, I remember the excited, hushed tones from the editors as they explained that the new Elder Scrolls game was called Skyrim and I'd be flying out to Bethesda in a couple of weeks to record interviews with Todd Howard. Don't blow it.
There was so much incredible talent that worked their way through Game Informer throughout its history. Attending Summer Game Fest this year, I was blown away by the tendrils throughout the game industry the magazine created. A lot of that came from the Game Informer internship program which had its problems (unpaid), but hopefully it created a positive impact on the game industry by creating a doorway for new talent.
The magazine felt like an oasis in the game industry, a wonderful office in Minneapolis, Minnesota where we weren't under strict quotas for clicks and views. Leaders like Andy McNamara (and later Andrew Reiner and Matt Miller) shielded us from a rain of bullshit from the GameStop overlords. After a brutal round of layoffs in 2019 I quit to form a community-funded outlet called MinnMax that was free from GameStop's sword of Damocles, but there's a reason we all still talk so much about Game Informer. It radically changed our lives and means the world to us. GameStop was lucky to have it, but they killed it. And now they have... a warehouse somewhere of Buck the Bunny plushies? Great job, GameStop. Keep tweeting, CEO Ryan Cohen. You're doing great.
I hope we all made the most out of the opportunity given to us at Game Informer, there won't be one like it again.
They shut down the magazine, they pulled the cord on the site, but they can never take away all the beautiful moments that every generation of Game Informer built across those 33 years.
Mike Futter, former news editor (2013-2016) and current director of business development at Leviathan Core:
The Game Informer team perfected the art of doing more with less. Under GameStop's neglect, the team got scrappier and more resilient, weathering every increasingly brutal storm with grace, professionalism, and love for the medium. Every cover story, preview, review, feature, and interview that filled 33 years of the publication's pages was crafted with care and attention. None of it was an accident, and many hands (both seen and unseen) made it one of the most special homes our industry has ever had. To this day, I have fond memories of countless hours in our E3 newsroom, moving from press conference to press conference while a small home team rapidly processed assets so we could get dozens of stories live in real-time. And in between the deluge of news, a few of us at a time would stretch our legs with the amazing Ben Hanson to film reactions to new announcements, capturing the energy of the moment in a bottle like only he can. Nothing can rob those of us who lived that dream of such fond memories.
Now that I'm on the business side of the industry, I look at GameStop's decision-making as utterly nonsensical. The industry has proven over the last few days that the Game Informer brand still has enormous value... but corporate drones were too blind to see it. The hole left in the history of the industry has communicated loudly and clearly to GameStop's target market that the company has no love, appreciation, or respect for fans, by razing 33 years of history. The core of that company is rotten, as it proved by ripping out its very soul and then throwing a childish tantrum in killing the Twitter account. GameStop's head is empty and senseless, meandering lazily from meme to meme and flitting cluelessly amongst dead-end fad technologies.
To my friends and colleagues who were there at the end, thank you for carrying the flame for as long as you did. You did us all proud. You deserved so much better.
Javy Gwaltney, former associate editor (2015-2019) and current communications manager at EA:
I can say without exaggeration Game Informer is one of the most important things to ever happen to me.
I moved to Minneapolis in 2015 and worked for the magazine as an Associate Editor just shy of four years before I was caught in the first wave of layoffs in 2019. During those years, I became a much better writer thanks to the constant feedback of my fellow editors and the rest of the staff. I mean, the sheer amount of talent I benefited from is mind-boggling. Matt Bertz. Kim Wallace. Matthew Kato. Kyle Hilliard. Imran Khan. Elise Favis. Daniel Tack. Ben Hanson. Brian Shea. Matt Miller. Leo Vader. Andy McNamara, whom I’m still fortunate enough to work with at Electronic Arts now. Jeff Akervik and his team that made the magazine look as amazing as it does. The names go on, so many names. To think I worked alongside such brilliant people everyday is wild. Reflecting on that time often leads to pure disbelief: sometimes there’s even moments where I briefly wonder if it happened at all or I just dreamed it all up as some wondrous fantasy. It’s that surreal.
The magazine opened up the world to me. I traveled for work to New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Vancouver, Malta, Cologne, Stockholm, Guilford. I even went to Afghanistan to interview soldiers on military bases about what games meant to them and how they used them to connect with their families at home.
I also had a column where I wrote about the cultural impact of games. I interviewed brilliant people and asked them for their thoughts on gaming trends and accessibility and what creative forces inspired them day in and day out. If I had a creative desire I wanted to pursue – nine times out of ten – the staff would work with me to find a way to make it fly under the magazine’s banner. That’s what I remember most: all of us were passionate people and even if we were passionate about different things, we still wanted to come together to support each others’ interests and turn it into engaging content for our readers.
Look: I’m skeptical of any corporation that tries to present its employees as family but I can 100% say everyone I worked with at Game Informer, whether they were an editor or in production, felt like family to me and still do. I can’t even begin to describe just how much I miss all those people. The feeling is ethereal, just beyond words.
I know I’m running a bit long here but I think I’ll end things by saying that if you ever wanted a snapshot of what it was like to work at Game Informer, it’s all there in the 24-hour Extra Life charity streams we’d do at the end of the year. We’d subject ourselves and one another to the most hilarious, downright diabolical humiliations to entertain our viewers and raise (a lot of) money for Gillette Children's Hospital. All the passion and love and mischief and the chaos of the crew coalesced during those streams in a wonderful way.
They shut down the magazine, they pulled the cord on the site, but they can never take away all the beautiful moments that every generation of Game Informer built across those 33 years.
GI forever.
Elise Favis, former associate editor (2016-2019) and current communications consultant at FIFTYcc:
It’s hard to think of a world without Game Informer. Everything in my life stems from it. I’m currently sitting on my sofa, and if I look back at the wall behind me, there’s a framed poster of my first Game Informer cover story about Control. I thought about playing Dragon Age: Inquisition later tonight, but hey, that too has ties, because I played it during my initial Game Informer internship. I’m heartbroken that Game Informer is gone, but I got three and a half years at one of the biggest magazines in the world as an editor. In the end, it gave me a lot more than what was taken from me.
I met my closest friends through not just the job, but also through its community, the games industry, and Minneapolis, where the Game Informer offices were situated. If I had never come to Minneapolis, I never would have met my wife, and I never would have gotten to live in my house that I love so much. I never would’ve gotten my two cats, Corvo and Totoro, or lived with my best friend and coworker Javy Gwaltney. It took Game Informer almost a year to hire me, because GameStop had no idea how to hire a Canadian, but it was through sheer will that managing editor Matt Bertz, editor-in-chief (at the time) Andy McNamara, and executive editor Andrew Reiner found a way to make it happen. And for that, I’m forever grateful. They believed in me more than I ever believed in myself.
It was a dream job — you’d hear this sentiment often throughout the office. I don’t think a single person lacked a genuine passion for video games, but what was so surprising was how unwaveringly kind everyone was while they worked incredibly hard. We loved it all, and it came through in everything we did. Our podcasts, magazine features, reviews, goofy videos — everything was crafted with a level of thoughtfulness and love that I haven’t yet seen again. And, sure, that thoughtfulness sometimes meant arduous issue meetings where we’d fight over trivial details like “are breakable weapons the worst” (probably started by a certain Joe Juba), or “is [insert XYZ game] really what we’re choosing for GOTY?!” But those impassioned conversations breathed life into Game Informer, every day.
I’m incredibly proud of what I accomplished throughout my time at Game Informer. I was the first intern to be published in the magazine. When I was brought on full-time, I got to travel the world. I wrote everything from a deep-dive into Telltale’s demise, a cover story about Control (little did I know this would become one of my favorite games ever), an analysis of sexual intimacy throughout games, how fictional languages are crafted in games, why Hellblade speaks to chronic illness and not just mental health, and so much more.
I’m sick to my stomach that everything Game Informer created — 33 years worth of meticulously researched, influential, and culture-shifting video game coverage — was gone in seconds. I never wanted to imagine a world without Game Informer, but sometimes even the best things in life come to an end. I’m just grateful it brought me as much as it did, and that I still have so much to hold onto, whether it’s memories, friendships, or career-defining moments. Thank you, GI.
I don’t think a single person lacked a genuine passion for video games, but what was so surprising was how unwaveringly kind everyone was while they worked incredibly hard.
Suriel Vazquez, former associate editor (2016-2019) and current narrative lead at Big Blue Sky Games:
I worked at Game Informer from August 2016 to August 2019. When I first moved to Minneapolis, I was terrified. Maybe this job I'd uprooted my life for was some kind of scam. Maybe my dream job was still a job and I'd come to hate it. Having written freelance on my own for over 10 years, maybe I wouldn't cut it with the more involved editing process of a print magazine. Maybe I wouldn't like the people there. I reminded myself not to get too attached. I did it anyway. I'm glad I did.
My dream job was still a job, but Game Informer couldn't have just been a job. Being on my own in a new city, I hung out with the people I worked with after work all the time. We'd go to bars after work every once in a while and shoot the shit. Ben Hanson would have board game nights with every round of interns (so about three or four times a year), and I think I went to nearly every one I could. I spent Thanksgiving at Kyle Hilliard's place 3 years in a row. Traveling for events and cover stories meant sharing a room with someone, and I was a pretty sheltered kid. "Game Informer" became a group of people to me, which really helped when "Game Informer" stopped being a job when I was laid off in 2019.
The job was great; I'm proud of the work I did there. I traveled all over the world on company dime. I beat Sekiro's Butterfly Lady on my first try in front of a handful of From Software employees at their office. But the things I'll remember most are those times I spent outside work; watching Solo for the first time with Kyle in LA before E3 (it's a fine movie goddammit!). Going to Disneyland in Japan with Ben and Dan Tack.
I still spent time with Game Informer folks while searching for a job, working at MinnMax, and trying to make Minneapolis work until I decided to move back out. I was able to work on a few consulting gigs with Matt Bertz. I visited Javy Gwaltney in LA, after he'd gotten a job at EA. I spent Thanksgiving at Kyle's last year.
The way GameStop laid off all of its remaining staff last week is abhorrent, and the company's Dick Van Dkye-like stumbles, lucky breaks, and inability to figure out how to exist in a world where people can pre-order games on Amazon has been well-documented. But despite ending the magazine, GameStop didn't kill off Game Informer. They're still around.
Imran Khan, former west coast senior editor (2017-2019) and current freelance writer:
I always tell people not to tie their identity to a job and, whether I was bad at following my own advice or not, I did end up doing exactly that at Game Informer. As someone that couldn't stop talking about video games in any conversation, Game Informer was a dream job for me, because it let me feed that compulsion while also contributing to one of the biggest outlets in our medium. To me, Game Informer will always be my first step into the industry and one of my favorite workplaces.
I'm saddened by the sudden closure and even more deeply upset by the quick removal of our years worth of work. That GameStop executives could be so callous and cruel in removing it is only proof that the C-Suite at that company have never created anything of value if they are willing to treat what we all did as disposable. Game Informer will have a legacy longer than any of them ever will and I genuinely hope that eats them up inside. To everyone who ever graced that outlet's pages (online or otherwise), know that we all pulled off one hell of a thing across three decades.
Blake Hester, former senior associate editor (2020-2024) and current author:
There are two things I will forever value about GI:
One, it let me be the writer I wanted it to be. In fact, it encouraged it. During my time there, I was never pestered to chase SEO, lists, and similar bullshit I didn't care about (a specific privilege we had because our magazine was so big, I recognize, but nevertheless). I was given the space to do the work I wanted to do, the money to make it happen (important!), and the platform to publish it. Especially these days, that's the most valuable thing a writer can receive. From a traffic perspective, on the website, my pieces were often huge failures. And yet that was never once brought up to me. Or anyone for that matter. What mattered at GI was that the writer was happy and proud with their work, and that they were supported in creating that work.
And secondly, of course, it's the people. It's so lame (and oftentimes dangerous) when people say a company is a "family." And yet, GI is part of my extended family. I have so many friendships that will last my entire life because I worked at that magazine for a couple years. Hell, some of those friends I didn't even work WITH! We're just connected by the fact we, at one point or another, passed through the same doors. That's huge. That's something I will never take for granted.
GI for life. Fuck GameStop.
From a traffic perspective, on the website, my pieces were often huge failures. And yet that was never once brought up to me. Or anyone for that matter. What mattered at GI was that the writer was happy and proud with their work.
Liana Ruppert, former associate editor (2020-2021) and current freelance community manager on Amazon’s Fallout TV show and at Uncommon Games:
Game Informer, for me, was always my dream from when I was a kid. I knew I wanted to work in the industry and Game Informer was my holy grail of media. As a kid, it was such a source of comfort and connection - especially when this was before social media, before the internet was a household commodity - Game Informer was my connection to other gamers and the people behind some of my favorite adventures.
I'm thankful that my last stint in journalism before moving on to the developer side of the proverbial tracks because Reiner allowed me to reconnect with the part of myself that poured my heart and soul into my written work. He allowed our team the freedom to do well but on our terms, a monumental freedom in an age where rage bait and – let's be honest – clickbait runs rampant. Every single person that worked there put everything they had into everything they did and it was beautiful. To see the callous way GameStop treated the staff and the property throughout its evolution leading into the eventual closure fills me with rage and honestly? Heartbreak. It feels good to see the community rallying, I just wish we didn't HAVE to rally. If it had to close down, a little empathy goes a long way. GameStop has proven, time and time again, that empathy is the one thing they don't deal in – not even for store credit.
Alex Van Aken, former video lead (2020-2024) and current musician and 3D artist:
I’ve started writing this eulogy multiple times over, deleting my words because they aren’t properly capturing how much Game Informer means to me. I’m frustrated I can’t eloquently describe how much the heartwarmingly-Midwestern video game publication changed my life during the last four years I worked there. To be honest, my thoughts are still swirling and I’m terrified to transition into a reality where I no longer work with the people I love.
Game Informer, in all its iterations, filled its roster with kindhearted people who gave a shit about others, and that’s why it’s so hard to close this chapter of my life. I was so lucky to experience the feeling of loving my job and I’ll never take it for granted.
Long live Game Informer.
John Carson, former associate editor (2021-2022) and current news editor at Indie Informer:
I was a small part of Game Informer’s 33-year history, but Game Informer was family to me long before I worked there. I became friends with the staff in my early 20s, often hanging out in the office I would kill to work in and the people it would mean everything to work with. Years later, after most of my connections there had left for various reasons, I got the chance to see my words printed on the pages of the largest gaming magazine. I was green, never having had to write for a living, but I like to think I learned quickly and made the most of my time there. A year was allowed to put my soul into GI before the corporate overlords randomly sheared me from the roster.
Unfortunately, that same callousness and carelessness have ended the outlet’s journey for good.
We may reminisce on the big announcements and cover stories GI was known for, but my favorite memories of Game Informer are of the people I’m honored to have spent so much time with throughout the years. Dancing with Andrew Reiner in Kinect Star Wars during the early days of streaming. Road trips to wrestling events with Dan Ryckert and Ben Reeves. Grinding out matches in Street Fighter X Tekken with Jason Oestricher. Spending weekends at the office for Extra Life or Guinness World Record attempts. They’re all memories I’ll continue to hold dear.
It was a miracle a print product went out nearly once a month, especially during COVID. Thanks to everyone during my generation of GI who made it all happen despite the waning support from GameStop in its meme-stock-fueled heyday: Marcus Stewart, Alex Stadnik, Margaret Andrews, Alex Van Aken, Lahleh Azarshin, Brian Shea, Kristin Williams, Lianna Ruppert, Jason Guisao, Wesley LeBlanc, Jill Grodt, Jon Woodey, Ben Reeves, Mónica Rexach Ortiz, Blake Hester, Matt Miller, Jeff Akervik, Dan Tack, and Kimberly Wallace. Thank you all. I’m proud to call you colleagues and friends.
There may not be a magazine delivered to your door anymore or a website where you can check for the latest news and reviews, but I urge anyone reading this to follow the GI alumni and support them in whatever way you comfortably can.
