Life Seeps In
Made a few important design decisions for The Biggest Opa today which have made me feel quite a lot better about its development. I also reminded myself that I’ve only been working on it for just over two weeks and that I perhaps should be so hard on myself in terms of output. But then again, why the hell does it take me so long to make a simple game? Might be connected with my lack of experience I suppose.
Anyway, it was great to realise I could just cut a whole part of the game that was giving me grief. I had this idea of different stages of dancing with different opponents with AI and different backgrounds and on and on and it was making me feel super stressed out and simultaneously so bored of the game. Then, today, I was all like: no. So I decided I just wouldn’t do that part of the game, and I now have the will to live and code again.
Interesting question as to just how much of game development, particularly solo or small-team efforts, are heavily affected by the more emotional aspects of code and creation. How many games were drastically changed because someone felt depressed by how it was going, or took an irrational dislike to a particular aesthetic they’d been working on, or just felt tired that day and reconfigured the entire design to just be easier to implement? I’m going to guess it’s not all that uncommon, and I’m going to say that it’s kind of great that the whole process is just so very human. Making games can seem like a very mechanical, inhuman thing from the outside, I think. I still harbour views of other game makers (say, for instance, Cactus) as these insanely productive machines that never stop and never feel doubt. But this is unlikely. And it’s great that that’s the case – like any other creative medium, life itself seeps in on all sides.