For a long time, I believed game design would be my primary conduit to getting into the tabletop game industry, and traversing that path has felt fulfilling by far, yet foolish in some ways.
I’ve always enjoyed layering game mechanisms over a theme and coating it with aesthetics, then sanding it down into what I thought was something smooth to the touch and pleasing to the eye.
Sure, I’d pick it up and inspect my creation, but not with the eye of a critic, usually. Oftentimes, I’d end up being more like a parent, marveling over its most mundane features, too proud to beg for the help I desperately needed.
Yes, the age old tale of “the creator’s coddle”, I call it. Of course I wasn’t immune to it — how could I be. It’s imminent and invisible until you consciously step back, step out, or step aside.
Thus, I had cycled through plenty of photoshop templates, paid for premium printing at FedEx Office, and designed and crafted rulebooks modelled after some of the games I’d thought had done them best. Only to do minimal internal playtesting, then go right back to the drawing board. Focusing far too much on having a complete and shiny build, instead of a solid understanding of the purpose and performance of each part.
I can say, though, that the game has morphed so significantly over time that it is not even close to being the same game as it was originally, and I do still believe that the bulk of these changes have come from extensive research, and feedback from individuals I trust on the subject. Unfortunately, I did not fail nearly fast enough, and now here I am several years later without pitch ready.
What should I have done instead?
Rapid prototyping, for sure. This would’ve allowed me to fail fast, and confirm whether or not the core actions and decision making are even fun to begin with. That and consistently playtesting with purpose — asking myself core questions about the game and using player feedback to answer them.
Is this “influence” system intuitive? Are the card interactions too complex for new players? How much does the player need to learn about each card before they can make meaningful decisions? Ugh, talk about “trial and error”.
Another thing I missed in my early design days, considering the opinions of professionals, is that I should’ve been working on more than one game at once. This seemed counterintuitive to me at first, but the philosophy began to make sense after realizing I’d become too attached to the game. Had I not, I may have made many of those necessary cuts and additions much sooner.
I think the biggest detriment to my pursuits, though, was not having done more research into how the tabletop game industry works. I want to say that my plan was to use game design to get in, then learn the rest on the job, but that’s not really a plan. I should have utilized a bit of design thinking and started by attempting to identify any gaps or roles my skill set could help to fill.
Next Steps
It’s time to jump back into my card game, condense the card effects to make them easier to understand, let balance take a backseat for now, and get some local playtesting in. Given the times we’re in, though, this means digital playtesting. I’ve already got some cards on untap.
I’ll also need to start some rapid prototypes for the board game I’ve had in my head for a while. This is what I am most nervous about due to my inexperience, but it’s still very exciting!
Lastly, while I am doing those things, I’ll need to dedicate some time each day to learning the ins and outs of the tabletop game industry. I may be able to leverage some of the groups on LinkedIn that I’ve recently joined, but we’ll see.
I’ll check back in soon and document my progress.
