Over this last weekend last weekend, I participated in the GMTK 2020 game jam. For those unfamiliar with the concept, a “game jam” is an event where participants try to create a complete video game in a relatively short amount of time — 48 hours in this case.  To prevent participants from simply creating and submitting an existing game, these events begin with the announcement of an underlying theme.  Having never entered one of these, I was curious how my pickiness would fare in such a rushed environment and mentioned the event to my Discord. 

At 3pm that Friday, the theme was announced: Out of Control.  Within the hour, our Discord decided to make a game where Florida Man collected and consumed drugs to fuel a manic rampage in a strange cross between a Sega-style vehicle auto-scroller and streets of rage.  As I’d specifically requested their help and could see how enthused everyone was about the idea, I decided to try making it work and began sketching out the general architecture and required systems.  

Around 8pm, five hours later, I decided it wasn’t possible.  Between the genres, art requirements, and learning curve for what would essentially be two different game design patterns, I couldn’t work out a practical timeline over the remaining 43 hours and began feeling the weight of time and an unmistakable sense of being in over my head. 🌊

People enter these things all the time, why am I having so much trouble?

Rather than using my 20 IQ and relaying my decision to folks for a different idea, I instead drafted a second game closer to my comfort zone: a top-down shooter where a drug increased the power of both player and enemies.  It was close enough to the idea of drugs powering the character and the enemy bonuses could be made to satisfy Out of Control well-enough, I thought.  Before calling it for the first day, I had a general timeline for the weekend and most of the player architecture worked out.  Things still felt pretty iffy, but I’d at least convinced myself it was possible. 🤷

Over the next two days and with an all-nighter, I managed to finish the game.  After building to both Windows and (surprisingly) WebGL, I submitted the game and linked to my Discord for people to play.  

And that was it, I did it.  It was exhausting, I hadn’t slept, and I was running on 4 cups of iced coffee, but I did it.  Complete game in 48 43 hours.  Great. New life experience and an increased appreciation for the folks who do this regularly.  

So, why do I feel so shitty?

Let’s talk about walls. 🧱

I think with any pursuit — professional or hobbyist– it’s only natural to encounter walls.  Generally speaking, a wall can be anything that presents a challenge to your ability and inhibits your advancement until it’s been overcome.  While frustrating, the sense of finally clearing it — beating that player, playing that solo, presenting at that conference — produces a unique satisfaction directly proportional to that wall’s initial frustration.  I’m sure you can think of a few situations where something seemed impossible at one time, only to feel almost trivial the next day. 

While walls may certainly cause someone to doubt their abilities, I think there’s another, far worse source of discouragement.  These situations present the same challenge as a wall but are contextualized by an inability to correct them after failure — a one-time, consequential shot.  For a while, I didn’t know what to call this situation, but a similar scene from my favorite did finally provide me with a name: Head-Splitter. 🪓

Whereas a wall is something you actively work towards, I consider a head-splitter to be more explicit — a single situation where you were unable to overcome something.  A situation where the regret and frustration of that single event provoke an unshakable inner criticism and self-analysis of your abilities.  Personally, skills and habits that felt mature and deliberate the day before are met with a new hesitation as I struggled to differentiate practiced technique from habitual liability.  Whether it’s a failed relationship, a bad exam, or bombing a presentation, these really sting. 🐝

So, that is more or less where my mind is right now.  I submitted a game, met a difficult timeline, and put myself out there, but it was a buggy mess and revealed just how far I still have to go.  In the grand scheme, I do think these situations are ultimately beneficial, provided the self-analysis phase doesn’t catalyze too heavily with the onset impostor syndrome.  Confidence will return and overall mood will improve with time, with enthusiasm and passion eventually winning out.  After all, if we didn’t care about improving at something, then this feeling wouldn’t exist, right?

With that said, I think I’ll be taking a few days off from Unity. ⛱️