I Can Fix You!
I will never be as smooth as Dule, but a man can dream.
This is what happens when I procrastinate in making a prototype: the temptation to fix things before I make the prototype becomes overwhelming. There. I said it. No burying the lede in this post, which is a first for me.
I've written before (I think? It starts to blend together...) about how the hardest part of game design for me (so far!) is creating a prototype. I'm just not particularly crafty and I'm terrible with computers. So even the simplest task of creating a deck of cards is frustrating and time-consuming for me. To the point where I literally wrote out some things on cards instead of typing and printing them because that felt better for my brain and self-esteem. But at some point, I just need to do the thing, you know? So I've started. But it's a very slow, ongoing process. My hope is that once I've completed these initial tasks, the iteration cycle will speed up because I'll have some foundational materials and knowledge. But it has taken me so long to get to this point where I'm actually producing materials that I've been talking about and re-examining the materials I need to fabricate. And I've started to question just how much of it is ready to go to prototype. And therein lies the problem.
I'm starting to overthink. I'm assisted by a friend of mine who is helping me through the process (not my co-designer Chad, but someone else who has known about this game since before I roped Chad in!). The problem is that he has extensive game knowledge and he's good at troubleshooting before actually making the mistakes. It's frankly a terrific quality to have and one to which I could lay claim! But here's where it's actually setting us back - it's keeping us from just making the product so we can test it. There's going to be stuff in there that doesn't work and that's okay. And there is something to be said about eliminating problems before they are problems. Absolutely! But the truth is that Chad and I are still neophytes to the field of design and a lot of the parallels that I'm drawing between things that could've been fixed pre-production and post-production and what I'm working on is that those were completed products. For example, some games include FAQs in their rulebooks or variant versions, and both of those things sometimes address an element of gameplay that simply isn't fun. Which begs the question, "If you knew that wasn't fun, why did you keep the rule instead of just eliminating it?" But Chad and I don't have a game that's going to production. It's definitely not the same. And I don't know who's out there who needs to hear it, but if you're working on a prototype and trying to troubleshoot problems before they become problems, maybe you don't really need to do that. It's part of what keeps us from the finish line, honestly.
I know I compare a lot of things to acting and directing onstage, but I do think it's an apt comparison here. As an actor, we don't always know what will play well onstage because there are so many variables to consider. How big is the house? Will smaller gestures or movements be seen by audience members, or do they need to be bigger? How do props read onstage? Do they need to be bigger, brighter, or more obvious? Does this particular choreography work in this space or is there an angle at which the choreography either doesn't read or reveals it as a staged maneuver in a way that takes the audience out of the performance? I've known plenty of ideas that work really well in theory but just don't play onstage! I've also spent a lot of time trying to make those ideas work until it's obvious that they won't and I'm simply wasting time. I've also witnessed ideas that sound ridiculous or untenable in conversation, but they are absolutely perfect on that stage, in that space, with those people, at that time. Actors LOVE to spend rehearsal talking about what we're going to do onstage. Because talking about it is the easy part. It all works as long as we're just talking about it. Doing it can be a damn sight more challenging. And it can be disappointing if it doesn't work. But that's the challenge: get up there and do it. Throw it all at the wall and see what sticks. It's easy to do a thing early in the process, decide it works, then stick with it for 3-4 weeks of rehearsal. But the best results come from someone who is trying something new every other day. If I found something that works, great! I should make a note to come back to it later. If it's early in the process, why am I locking this line reading or block in right now? It's not going anywhere if I noted it; I can come back to it after I try several other things and can decide this truly is what works best.
But a lot of time, there's simply no amount of preparation that can determine whether or not a thing will work the way we think it will. And in this case, I'd like to head off problems before they happen, but what's the harm in some of them happening anyway? At the end of the day, it's possible some problems will be avoidable going into playtesting (I should've guessed that research on 3 spells would make the game too long, or I should've anticipated that everyone starting the game by researching "starter Spells" is pointless and isn't needed, I should've known these particular Spell Components were broken and needed to be changed, etc. etc.) and will soak up all of the attention and feedback of a playtest or two. But so what? I just need to set up more playtests. Sure, it'll take longer. But why does it matter if I "should have" anticipated a problem? As long as I don't have a production timeline, contracts to fulfill, backers to keep happy, and nobody's safety is at risk (we ain't doing stage combat, here), then what am I doing? Stop tinkering with mechanics and components, fabricate the components, and just play the damn game!
Trying to fix these things before they happen is fine, so long as it's not an excuse to not make the thing. Right now, I know the tinkering I'm doing is an excuse to not make the thing.
It just ain't true. It's an excuse. And I personally need to stop making excuses. Maybe you do too. Or maybe you just need to hear that you should be able to afford yourself the grace to make mistakes. No matter how well we novice game designers think we've thought through the entire game, play-tests will absolutely reveal flaws. Mistakes we need to fix. Some big, some small, and sometimes, many instead of some. That's what play-tests are meant to do. So let's stop trying to fix the mistake before it happens. Let it happen and then let's go from there!
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