Pixel Game Jam 2023 Post-Mortem
Film directors have 48-hour films. Writers have NaNoWriMo. Composers have composing competitions. And game developers have game jams.
Last week, I participated in a game jam. For those who might not know, a game jam is an event within the game developer community in which a theme is presented along with certain parameters such as genre, art style, game engine, etc. The goal is to make a full game within the time limit - ranging from 24 hours to three months.
The game jam I joined was the Pixel Game Jam. It lasted six days in full. The requirements were to make a game using pixels (think Super Mario Bros.) and the theme was “mystery.”
A day or two before the game jam began, I compiled a document of principles of game design to use both in the then-upcoming game jam, as well as in future game jams and even my own game development projects. I’m happy with Past Jacob for doing this.
When the game jam started, I hit the ground running. Using the document I had created, I outlined the core game mechanics I wanted to include in the game.
The idea I had was to combine top-down narrative adventure with action platforming. After maybe 90 minutes of planning, I began to build the levels. (For reference, I used GB Studio. Highly recommend. Plus it’s free.) Progress was going great.
The first few days of development were highly productive. I had the bulk of my levels designed, I was tinkering with the platforming mechanics (attacking mid-jump was a crucial lesson), and I continued to reflect on how far I had come as a developer in only a few days.
On Saturday - the final day of the game jam - I returned to working on the game just after 7am. There were a handful of levels I had yet to create, so I began my day with creating those. It took maybe two hours, and then I switched my focus to enemy behavior. All was well.
Until it wasn’t.
In the afternoon and evening, there were a variety of smaller elements that needed attention - the “polish” of a game. Some of the enemy types were buggy or unscripted (I had to cut one type of enemy and cut out what initially was supposed to be a boss fight), the player attack was janky, and I still had to add in the mystery narrative.
Around 1am, I made the decision to cut some of the ending dialogue.
At about 2am, a section of the platforming level (that HAD been working) broke and I couldn’t figure out why. Also, the player’s health bar was working in some areas and not in others.
At about 3am, I had to cut out a section of the level entirely.
When 3:30am rolled around, I was exhausted. I had put in 19 hours of work for the day. And the game was nowhere near a fun, fluid state. Certainly not how I wanted it to be submitted.
But I was brave and submitted it anyway.
The following morning, on Sunday after about five hours of sleep, I woke up feeling understandably upset. What I had initially set out to accomplish - a small, functioning game - did not happen. I felt dejected. I felt as though I had failed.
As I laid in bed, the clock nearing 11:30am, I thought about failure. I thought about how I didn’t like feeling defeated - as though I had lost. As though I had competed against myself and lost.
But I changed the way in which I was viewing the situation.
It was difficult to do, and I didn’t necessarily want to change my perspective, but I knew it would be the only way to lift myself up.
I began thinking not of the failed end result, but of how much I pushed myself over those six days and how much growth I had experienced (and was continuing to experience). Rather than just thinking about it, I made a list of everything new I had at least attempted during the game jam.
I experimented with the platformer genre for the first time. I learned how to use color palettes more effectively, and using game engine features to change color palettes during gameplay. I created a few basic but different enemy behaviors, for variety in gameplay. I pushed what I knew about coding dialogue trees. I created the beginnings of a few important resource documents pertaining to game design, and I created several game assets that I can use going forward.
After listing these points, I felt better. While far from perfect, I created a prototype that is a proof-of-concept for a broader game I have slated for development.
The work I did during the six-day-long game jam also reaffirmed that I have the ability to do a lot in just a little amount of time.
I have a tendency to hold myself back - “I’m always in my way,” as a co-worker puts it.
The conclusion I came to - the lesson learned this time around - is the age-old cliché: It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.