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Tanya X. Short leads 4-person Kitfox Games, who just released Shattered Planet on iOS.
GDC’s over, but PAX looms on the horizon. Any other collection of 3
letters could be close behind. The string of events and meetups and
conferences never end. You may feel a crushing pressure to perform at
each of these, especially if you’re an indie with rent that needs paying
and food that doesn’t buy itself, like me. You're spending money and
time and energy that
could go towards making your game.
You need to justify the cost.
But that pressure can make you do dumb things. You'll be tempted to
act selfishly, cowardly, be indecisive, or run away. So here's a few
things to refer back to, when you feel your heart start to beat just a
little too fast.
You probably already agree with the things written here in principle (
they were inside you all along),
and the big’n’famous names have been using em for ages now. Even so, I
consider them best practices, worthy of a reminder now and then.
At the risk of being a self-parody of my own
50 Easy Steps to Indie Success, I have to note that your mileage may vary.
The Scene
I was enjoying GDC 2014, having meetings and playing cool games and sharing drinks with great people.
Then, on the second evening, there were two different parties that I
needed
to attend: a chiptune concert where literally all my game-dev friends
would be (some of whom I hadn’t seen in years), and a publisher party,
where I was hoping to make a connection and find some work-for-hire for
my company so we can survive until our next major release.
A tiny indie sat on one of my
shoulders, chiming: “You’re not a corporate lackey, are you? Your
friends deserve your time and respect! You have to show you care about
them or they'll forget about you! Plus, your personal hero is going to
be there!”
On the other shoulder, a tiny CEO
chirped: “How selfish can you be? Kitfox Games depends on you to look
out for their best interests, and you just want to burn money dancing in
a club and getting drunk with your friends? Unprofessional.”
No matter what, I would be losing out. I could feel my blood pressure rise and I began to hyperventilate.
Survival Tip 1: Chill the F*%& Out
Events are full of opportunities. Every meal, every session, every
lobby, every hallway, is crowded with potential new friends, business
partners, and collaborators. The human mind cannot possibly comprehend
the fractal of alternate universes that are spawned every second of
every conference.
Furthermore,
nobody can help you with your priorities. You'll
be torn in five different directions. You're in a unique position and
have to make the best call you can, given the information you have. You
can't possibly know
exactly what the best combination of decisions is, but nobody else can make a better guess than you can, either.
Don’t try to min/max it too much. Trust yourself.
The only way out of analysis paralysis is to take a deep breath and
then act. Let the logical part of your brain do the best it can and in
the long-run, it will work itself out. You’ll miss a few opportunities
along the way, but that’s how it is. Breathe, think it through, weigh
the pros and cons, and
let it go.
You can do anything, but you can’t do everything. Accept that.
Survival Tip 2: Be Giving
Some people you know are already your friends. They’re people who are
cheering for you, hoping your games do well, and maybe even putting in
some effort to help make it happen.
These people deserve more than just gratitude; they deserve your
respect and mutual support. They’ve been earning it for weeks and months
and years, supporting you emotionally.
When I met Harry Lee (
Sokobond) this year, he said, "This year, I'm not promoting my own work. I want you to try my friend's game,
Push Me Pull You.
I have it here in my backpack. Do you want to play?" The selflessness
of that gesture -- of taking the value of a self-promotion opportunity
and giving it to someone you want to succeed -- touched me, and I think
we should all take it to heart.
Of course, just by making friends you'll be promoting yourself. We
can't all be selfless Harry all the time. But now is not the time to ask
for favors --
now is the time for building better relationships.
You’ll want a few petty things (introductions, recommendations,
invitations), but it’s far, far better to invest in your future now.
Wherever you can, be the giver. Be the supporter. Offer to help others
where you can.
If nobody asks for favors, that’s fine;
go out of your way to show your appreciation
for the kindness others have shown you. It sounds trite, but really do
pay it forward. Especially while you're under this crushing performance
anxiety.
Psychologically, this is likely to
make you happier anyway.
It seems Rami Ismail of Vlambeer spends most of his time helping
others, and I would bet that the goodwill he's generated is a big part
of Vlambeer's success. Real, demonstrable karma. If you want to be
completely mercenary, then try to see conferences and events as great
times to
make brand deposits and not-great times to make brand withdrawals.
This past GDC I didn’t practice this tip as well as I could have, and
I asked for a few petty favors that didn't really matter (but felt
uber-important in the moment) instead of being my best self. So I wrote
this note to myself, so I can improve.
Survival Tip 3: Make New Friends. (Corollary: Be Visible)
It’s not “just
networking” -- making friends is legitimately about becoming closer to
someone, such that they grow from stranger to acquaintance, and
acquaintance to ally (see previous tip).
Be friendly, but be yourself. The more friends you
make, and the more effort you put into being visible (so others can
approach you), the more you can contribute to the greater community. As
the
latest corporate shenanigans prove, being a dev means being sincere and true to what you believe.
So get to know these people. Learn about their work. Listen to the words they say. This means that generally,
you have to put in effort.
Actually learn their name and pay attention to what they’re working on,
and be sincere. Be patient. Friendship isn't Kool-Aid mix.
It’s easy to slip into friend-bot mode and just stick your hand out
at everyone and try to collect as many business cards as possible, but
this isn’t actually to your benefit, as a passing face in the hall will
never be a friend.
Survival Tip 4: Not Everyone Will be Your Bestie
In the process of becoming more visible and making more acquaintances
and budding friendships, you'll realise you don't enjoy the company of
some people. Even some people that maybe could be "useful".
You won’t like everyone. That’s okay.
People have different priorities and tastes. Accept that. The last thing you want is, as Lana Polansky put it later in
that Twitter conversation, is for your friends to feel that "your value is rooted in what you symbolize/how useful you are to us."
I'm not saying shun people you don't immediately click with. You're
at a professional event, not a middle school dance. But recognise when
you are interacting as Part of a Community (which can be "useful") and
when you are interacting as a friend.
The developers-and-such surrounding you in the middle of crowded
festival halls and lectures may not all be “useful”, at least not now,
and maybe not ever. But if you really try,
there’s always something to learn from another person, if you get to know them.
On the other hand, there are times when you have to give in and...
feed the beast
Survival Tip 5: Feed the Beast
“Feeding the Beast” is a phrase I first heard uttered on the Friday of GDC by Alex Martin, better known as Droqen (
Starseed Pilgrim).
It refers to when you have to do "real work". You have to do something
for the good of your brand/company/product/insert-business-word.
Going to events you don’t care about, or even feel morally conflicted
about. Talking with investors. Giving talks. Tweeting when you’re not
in the mood. Everyone has their own approach to feeding the beast, but
the truth is there:
you have to make some sacrifices to power the engine.
It can’t run on rainbows all the time. I personally feel I’m feeding
the beast when I have run out of the energy to have a sincere
conversation, yet continue to “network”.
Don't decline something because it sounds tedious. Don't run away to
your hotel room. At least, not every time. Don't cancel meetings because
you're nauseous from nerves. Buck up.
Returning to the party-hyperventilation example, I ended up going to
both parties. I went to the fun one first, danced around, had fun, and
then (slightly bummed) went to the publisher party. I had to “feed the
beast”, and ended up meeting a few “useful” people. They won’t be my
friends anytime soon, but it’s better than nothing.
This is mostly included as a counter-point to Tip 1. Even without
min/maxing every moment of every day, you still have to work. So no
matter how you manage to chill and trust yourself, be prepared to be
exhausted.
Survival Tip 6: Don't Compete
It was two hours after I had given my GDC talk. After four days of
navigating the tight-rope of friend-making and networking, just as my
nervous energy started giving out, I crashed. Hard. It was like a
sudden, full-body experience of the
indie shame spiral.
I wasn’t
indie enough, wasn’t
connected enough, wasn’t
savvy enough, wasn’t
tech enough, wasn’t
professional enough, wasn’t
stylish enough, wasn’t
extreme enough, young enough, old enough, anything enough. I felt I didn't belong, because I failed every possible comparison.
Now, of course my thought patterns were
unhealthy and self-destructive,
regardless of setting, but it's especially easy to fall into that trap
in a conference setting. Especially if you let yourself get competitive.
Amazing, talented, wonderful people are all around you, and while
that's inspiring when you're happy, it can feel damning when you're
vulnerable.
To put it another way,
feeling insecure and walking into a competitive atmosphere is a recipe for Impostor Syndrome on steroids.
Luckily for me, I went to
Lost Levels
that afternoon in the park. In addition to dancing to Professor Oak’s
music and being inspired/amused/educated by the many brilliant folks
giving micro-talks, I was also reassured. My sense of competitiveness
faded*. I felt a small sense of belonging, bouyed by the warm sunshine
and the fresh springy scent of the grass.
A few days later, when I confessed my anxieties to Damian Sommer (
The Yawhg),
he said that he felt the opposite. We all should -- seeing these
amazing, talented, wonderful people should help ground them as humans,
rather than disembodied voices of perfection that only tweet pearls of
wisdom.
We're all just people. Everyone poops.
I challenge you to recognise when someone subtly ramps up the
competitive atmosphere, comparing themselves (or their games) to others,
and to ramp it back down. Find ways to be supportive. Raise others up,
don't tear them down. Be an example of how to always, always learn.
Your uniqueness is what makes your post-mortems possibly less than
useful to others… and yet it means both your triumphs and your setbacks
are something to be proud of. Only you can achieve them.
The only failure is to stop, to conform, to give up, to believe there is nothing left to learn.
So stop comparing yourself and
keep making games. You're already winning.
* The collaborative, supportive environment of Lost Levels is really what
every dev-targeted event organiser should be trying to achieve. Planned chaos doesn't make your event less important.
On the contrary, it emphasises the humanity and immediacy of your attendees.
Nightmare Mode: Trying to Pay Rent
As in every creative industry, anyone with ambitions to actually
express something about the human condition and get paid for it suffers
from enormous pressure. Like so:
The frog wears sunglasses to mask her insecurities.
Indies trying to pay rent are both artist and businessperson and neither.
“Pure” artists are either martyrs or dilettantes -- they give their
games away for free and subsist on scraps thrown by passersby and/or
rich relatives. But not you.
You need money to live.
“Pure” business-minded developers couldn’t see a bigger waste of time
than “indie games” -- they make investment-ready products and companies
for the express purpose of becoming wealthy. But not you.
You need art to live.
You live a life amphibious. You attend business meetings and nod
sagely, drawing dollar-signs onto your eyelids to fit in. You delight in
playing and making weird games that nobody would ever pay money for,
but when you do this, the pressure of rent/family/hunger/medical
bills/whatever makes you wonder if you are being irresponsible.
You’re under constant stress from this dual identity because it gives you goals that
can sometimes
converge (“just make a good game!”), but often don’t. Conferences are a
particularly dangerous setting because avatars of these angry gods
start to collide, often in a drunken, disorderly way. You're pulled,
sometimes literally, in different directions.
This whole "survival guide" was originally directed only at indies
trying to pay rent, but I realised most of it applies even to devs who
can focus honing their craft. I miss those days.
Summary
Making games is hard. Worrying about money makes it harder.
When you're in a conference setting, the pressure is higher, making
any gaps in your psychological defenses dangerous. The six areas I
recommend patching up before entering the arena:
- You can only optimise your opportunities so much. Trust yourself.
- Build others up.
- Reach out of your comfort zone to make new friends.
- Some people won't be your friends.
- Suffer for your business as necessary.
- Don't compare yourself. Make games.
Do you have other tips to share?
