Game Dev is like Building a House

My brain, from the top down.

For over a year, I’ve watched MaCenna, a DIY and home design youtuber as she renovates a 110-year-old house from the ground up. It was a complete fixer-upper, with wet flooring, a drooping roof, and an abandoned (working!) hot tub filled with water. While she’s gotten help from her partner and parents and contractors, there have been many videos where she’s worked on the house completely alone. She demolished an entire kitchen alone. She’s patched holes and even built walls all by herself. Watching MaCenna reinvent this house has been incredibly inspiring for me, not because I plan on getting into home design any time soon, but because it reminds me of my own struggles as a solo game dev.

Making a video game is a lot like building a house. It’s also like making a cake, growing a plant or writing a book, but to avoid using too many metaphors, I’m going to stick to MacCenna and the difficulties of house renovation.

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, I made my game Murder at the Cat Show as a way to prepare myself for making a larger gaming project. Well, I’m currently in the thick of making my larger project, and I’m incredibly overwhelmed. I’ve got to-do lists, vision boards, inspiration threads, and outlines — I’ve planned this project to death. And still I feel like I’m seeing no progress. I worry the choices I’ve made are bad ones that will negatively affect the choices I make in the future. Writing is my expertise, but making this game requires me to be familiar with sound, art, and game design. This excites me. But it also terrifies me. And it’s not just the game itself that worries me, but also the entirety of the gaming industry.

A playlist of youtuber MaCenna renovating her 110-year-old house

I’ve worked as a gaming journalist since 2014, knowing that I wanted to eventually work as a writer at a game studio. Much like many people believed Quality Assurance would eventually lead them to a game designer position (and it did for some people), I believed that working as a game journalist would show my writing chops. One day, I hoped, a studio would hire me.

In reality, I was chewed up and spat out by the foul mouth that is freelance gaming journalism. I was often told from game press sites that my writing was good, they liked worked with me, but there was never money in the budget to hire me full time. I felt unappreciated and sometimes disrespected, so I stopped pitching. Since then, I’ve worked at one studio as a contract writer. The experience was great and cemented my love for game design, but it was contract work, meaning eventually there wouldn’t be any more work for me. Since August 2021, I’ve been applying to game writing jobs while working on my own game.

Game dev is a romanticized profession. It is the HGTV show that edits out the years of hard work. To many gamers, all they see is the results: the game, the house, the thing to be lived in and played.

So many people want to make games. So many talented folks want to tell stories with games but can’t because of lack of support, finances, or knowledge. Or all three. Getting a job at a gaming studio is incredibly difficult. There are tons of narrative designer jobs, a senior writer jobs, and narrative lead jobs, but very few junior positions or internships. To get into gaming you must…already be in gaming. And if a position does open up with few requirements, then hundreds of applicants apply. So many people want in and, like me, are getting rejected at the door. So solo game dev is the only choice. It’s not just a way to build up a resume, it’s also a path that is the only way forward.

This doesn’t even bring up the issues that people in the gaming industry. Whether it’s AAA or Indie, there are still people in gaming space that overstep boundaries and make gaming incredibly unsafe.

My self-esteem, first person point of view

None of this has anything to do with me making my game. But maybe it does. These things are constantly on my mind. I have hopes that my game can prove my worth as a writer and game designer. But do I need to prove my worth to an industry that needs an upheaval? I love writing so much that I went to school to get a piece of paper that says I am a master at it. Does it matter? Should anyone care? You don’t need a degree to have great ideas. And a degree doesn’t shield you from bad ideas, either. What if my entire game idea is bad? What if the idea should be scrapped completely?

Every week I’ve tuned in to MaCenna’s channel, waiting to see what progress she’s made on her old house. While her videos and personality evoke a positive, relaxing, vibe, she often reminds the viewer that the whole process is difficult and real. This is not a television show for her; the months of hard work are her real life. The learning curve from designing apartments with renter-friendly wallpaper to reimagining an old house is steep. While she’s seems grateful to be doing her dream project, she’s also doubted her abilities to tackle such a daunting task.

Solo game dev is rewarding, but I’m also dealing with a state of depression that is making my job so, so much harder. My faith in myself and my ability to make a fun game is dwindling. It’s practically non-existent.

But every week a new video comes out. Some portion of the house is changed. MaCenna is still building or designing or planning something. I and about eight hundred thousand people are excited for the day where she says the house is complete. But until then, she’s taking things step by step, room by room, and maybe I should too.

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The Tragic Tale of Mimi and Ini Miney

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A Retrospective on The Making of Murder at the Cat Show