Admitting I'm not making a puzzle game (and why failing a game jam helped)
It isn't possible to 'fail' a game making exercise like a game jam as long as you learn something. But sometimes that thing you learn is recognizing when you're falling flat on your face and stepping off the path rather than limping along.
This past weekend I started a game jam with the intent of prototyping a single aspect of a game I've been baking as an idea since a few months ago when I decided to move out of the US (I'll save that for another blog post). Thinking of marketing first: how was I going to stand out in the massive deluge of high quality indie title releasing every moment? So while I had no idea how I was going to make this theoretical puzzle, I slammed on the gas to start prototyping right away.
Every comparison game and new discovery had me better understand what niche I wanted to fill in the landscape. But what I didn't keep in check was what my core goals for this game were. The feature list for the puzzle (which was only supposed to be part of the whole experience) kept fractalizing outwards and more outside my expertise. I was adding features to the list that I have never created, even tangentially. Vastly underestimating the time commitment it would be to learn those, even if they felt simple.
I used to do game jams as a way of kludging together mishmashed skills I already had to make approximations of the idea had at the beginning. To learn one new thing and reveling in the process. But with something to prove, I broke my own self-set code, lost my way, and committed far too much to a mechanic that I didn't even really want.
So I'm killing this trail of thinking. The pages of mechanic mockup, 1000s of lines of code, and hours of write ups for nonogram, minesweeper, and information uncovering puzzles won't be completely discarded, but they won't be making a feature of this game.
My ego isn't the one making this game. The whole person that is me, with limitations and personal biases is putting themselves on the line. A game that is made from the whole of me will be far better than any middling puzzle game no matter how hot of a market there would be for it.
A relationship with art has been something I've only fostered in my adult life. Only focusing on practical skills that have tangible impact, I only grew skills in engineering and only looked at other disciplines as trimmings for the "real work". I am recovering from this and it is far more terrifying a challenge than managing war zones, crashing helicopters, and stitching wounds. Those things are discrete, understandable. But creativity proves me human.
About the Author
Wander is a human who's making interactive art. They have a tumultuous relationship with game development, but is always better for it when they make something and share it. He has a formal education and has made dozens of projects of all sizes, but what's shaped him has been personal connections with his community, nature, and himself.
Thank you for spending precious time reading. If you'd like to continuing hearing us on this journey of finding our humanity, you know where to find me.