Hello Everyone,
My name is Joshua Akorah and I am a solo videogame developer. I have been working on my first title, The Valentine Watch, for several years. A lonesome endeavour, I have spent these years building everything— engine included— from the ground up.
My relationship with games is rather bizarre: I find the concept of videogames to be infinitely fascinating and brimming with untapped potential. Despite this, I spend very little time actually playing them. Why is an aspiring game developer not playing any videogames? Surely any author uninterested in reading books would be laughed-off the face of the earth?
Curiously enough, I am not alone in this mindset: Hideo Kojima, arguably one of the greatest game designers, has also stated that he rarely plays videogames.1
It seems that this position is not particularly unique, despite its alarming implications. Something very troubling is occurring within a medium if one of its best-known visionaries is wholly apathetic to the output of his field. Worse still, no one seems to care. Admittedly, Kojima still makes videogames: there is still love for the potential of the medium, even if there is none for its realised output.
I graduated from university in 2017 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Computer Science. For the past four years I have been living on a tiny island in the Scottish Highlands, devoting my time to the pursuit of a grand project, The Valentine Watch. It is an exotic approach to game development, to say the least.
I will be using this Substack to explore the uniquely terrible predicament that the medium of videogames has found itself in, the circumstances that gave way to such a condition, and what needs to change within the space for beautiful, excellent works to manifest.
For example, one such article could explore gamers’ misplaced reverence for companies and studios as opposed to the individuals that inhabit them. By obfuscating their own understanding of who actually makes games, gamers’ expectations lose all sense of realism2.
The secondary objective of this Substack is to produce an informal guide for the creation of well-crafted, artful videogames built from scratch. To do this, I will be documenting my own development process with The Valentine Watch. I have spent years of my life toiling away at all aspects of development— story, graphics, engine, optimisation, etc. Even with the experience attained from my degree, I only had the vaguest sense of what was actually required to fulfil my vision. My lack of wisdom meant that many excruciating years were spent re-implementing the same lines of code time and time again as I could never accurately predict the scope of my ideas until they were fully-realised within the system.
These articles will be dense and highly-detailed, narrowly focussing on singular concepts wherever possible. They will describe how something was designed, but also why it was designed in such a way; long enough to provide serious insight yet short enough to be fluent. The kind of articles that I wish I could have read when I was just starting out.
On the surface, many similar tutorials exist today. However those tutorials only teach you how to make plain, unambitious, genre-restricted titles; the kind of games I rail against.
That is not to say that this manual is strictly mechanical, i.e. solely describing components of gameplay. Narrative should always be enmeshed within the design of the game’s systems. No manual would be fit without taking this into consideration.
Naturally, such a guide written by myself will only bear meaning if The Valentine Watch succeeds in becoming a well-crafted and artful videogame. While I have absolute confidence in the project, only time can reveal its ultimate destiny. There are only two paths available for this guide: that of a blueprint, or that of a cautionary tale.
These two styles of article— medium analysis and developer manual— will routinely overlap; I will structure the Substack in such a way that this occurs regularly. For example, an article discussing how a “camera” is used within games would likely be paired with an article discussing how I myself implemented the camera within The Valentine Watch.
A question worth asking is “why now?” Why start writing years into your journey? The primary reason is that I have only become aware of Substack recently; I actually used to write about game design on my blog several years ago3. I stopped writing because it felt like it was stealing time from game development without having much to show for it: a ‘successful’ post was lucky to reach fifty views.
The monetisation features offered through Substack justify the time expenditure demanded by long and involved analytical pieces.
I believe that Substack can be used as a novel funding-vehicle for solo game developers, with monthly subscriptions used to fund development.
At first glance, using Substack for this purpose appears restrictive, especially when compared to other platforms like Patreon. Functionally speaking, that is absolutely the case. Psychologically-speaking, I believe that Substack has some major advantages.
On Patreon, articles (or other rewards) are secondary to the product itself. On Substack, the reverse is true: if someone is only interested in my articles, they can subscribe and feel satisfied knowing they are receiving regular posts. Anyone solely-interested in supporting The Valentine Watch can still do so, with articles (particularly those focussing on the game itself) informing them of progress.
Not only that, since these articles can be shared they serve as free advertising for the game: anyone reading my analysis will invariably become aware of The Valentine Watch and perhaps even subscribe.
Using a Substack as the main “hub” for a videogame also interests me. Most game developers split their time between several platforms, none of which can inhabit an all-encompassing role4. Could Substack serve that role? I believe it can, especially at this micro-scale.
Lastly, Substack’s greatest benefit arises from the nature of its monetisation: it is both quantitatively and temporally flexible. One of great strengths of solo-development, particularly as a young bachelor, is the level of flexibility available when it comes to expenses: at the rock-bottom end of the spectrum, all that is required is a computer, a bedroom and some Wi-Fi— an extraordinarily low baseline for any business. Beyond that, the sky is the limit: artists, tools, marketing, an office. The breadth of possibilities are enormous even when examining a singular element: you can hire a bedroom musician to arrange a few tracks or you can hire a whole orchestra.
That is not to say that I am looking for a sizeable sum to pursue my “real” vision for my project; far from it. I have long since accepted that this is something I will achieve from my living room desk, nothing more. My plans account for that. The only impact that high funds will materially affect is the quality of the game’s music: this is the only component of the game that I am comfortable delegating to a third party.
I believe that traditional systems of patronage allowed for the highest levels of artistic excellence. Videogames— for the most part— have never been part of such a system. Even with the rise of crowdfunding platforms like Patreon this style of patronage is rare. Instead, game developers tend towards Kickstarter, a platform where projects receive lump sums in a way that more closely resembles traditional business investment. It should be of no wonder that this so often spells disaster: the developer pitches as if it is an artistic work, despite the fact that they receive funding like it is a serious business model5. They place very real deadlines and expectations upon themselves. With Kickstarter you cannot say that you will keep working “until it’s ready” as you will eventually run out of money. Even with the best of intentions, if you have to ask for more money after a successful Kickstarter campaign, those initial backers will feel cheated and your integrity will be called into question.
That should not be the case with Substack: so long as the quality and regularity of the posts remains consistent there should be nothing that a reader could reasonably harbour a grudge over. While such a developer now has to commit to writing regularly, this may in fact demand less time and effort than that required of successful crowdfunding campaigns whose work often continues long after the campaign is over (and sometimes far beyond the product’s final release)6.
Simply put, there is an elegance to Substack as a vehicle for game development that I cannot find anywhere else.
So, what are my plans here? In the coming months I want to reach a consistency where I write two articles per month: one primarily focussing on analysis, the other on The Valentine Watch. Both articles will be paywalled to some degree.
For the time being all articles will be free and unscheduled: I am mere months away from releasing a demo so I would like to dedicate myself exclusively to this milestone. Once that is out the way (it will be very clear when this has occurred) I will formalise the release schedule and raise the paywall.
Everything is very experimental; I’m unaware of anyone else using this platform for this exact purpose.
In the meantime, if you are interested in learning more about The Valentine Watch, please read this piece’s sister article, which will be made available in the coming days.
If you are feeling particularly zealous, it would be my honour if you subscribed. I cannot promise anything remarkable here and now, but I can promise great things in the months and years to come.
Until Next Time,
J. Akorah
“I actually don't play so many other games; I am too busy.”
I think you can make the case that I am twisting what he is saying. That said, this is a man with a voracious appetite for films and writing. At the very least, it is incredibly suggestive that a game developer has so much time for other forms of media but not the one he works in.
Cyberpunk 2077 is the most compelling example of this phenomena in recent years.
The blog still exists but may be locked at time of publication (this should change soon). Over time, I wrote less about games and more about life, much like a personal blog or diary. It is not recommended reading for anyone. Every worthwhile game design blogpost will be revised and ported over in the near future.
You could make the case that Twitter serves this role for some developers. Its usecase is high-frequency and hyper-visual which does not suit every style of game (or developer). Most importantly however is the fact that you cannot directly monetise a Twitter account: you have to include a link to a Steam page, Itch, Kickstarter, Patreon, etc.
Yes, this is how funding usually works for game development. However, when you are pitching an idea that is often no more than a collage of concept art to consumers you are convincing them based on the excellence of the concept, not its viability. When was the last time you heard a Kickstarter pitch talk about target markets, operating costs and expected sales numbers?
See Undertale alarm clocks.
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