The Perfectionist's Trial

'Development hell' is a phrase used for when video games are in a state of stall because of funding, technical, legal or artistic challenges. 

Is there a similar term for a situation where the only thing halting your progress is your quest for perfection? I've thought about this for a while now as its constantly something I've experienced as an amateur game designer. All great games start with an idea. Though these days unique ideas are far and few between and you really have to grab any idea that reflects individuality by the horns and never let it go. These unique ideas are often immature, lacking the experience of deeper thought or refinement. I've referred to this stage of growing these ideas through my own personal lens as the "Perfectionist's Trial". Regardless of the age or maturity of the idea, no matter what you do or accomplish, that little voice in the back of your head is always going to say, "are you sure?".

"Are you sure?"

That question, while a simple construction of one syllable words, can convey so much self-reflection. For an individual who is just getting their feet wet while perusing any path, those three words could produce weeks of dismay. Seasoned veterans are not immune to the turmoil that phrase inflicts, even if their experience has made them more resistant. While it typically incites criticism, that phrase can also elicit a powerful dopamine rush when matched with the perfect response, "Yes, I am sure". 

My First "Perfectionist's Trial"

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though its been three years, when I first encountered that trial. I was coming off a designer high, that feeling when you've put pen to paper (or fingers to a keyboard) and everything just feels right. When every facet of design weaves together into a beautiful web of pure bliss. The game rules feel succinct and well thought out. The mechanics are brilliant and cohesive. Everything feels perfect. Then you playtest it. That feeling of pure bliss removes itself from your dopamine receptors and chucks itself into the pit of the world's most active volcano. Suddenly that web you weaved encounters a bug that breaks the integrity of its strands. Your rose tinted glasses have stopped working and you realize that they were a knock off you had purchased from a snake oil salesman. Then the dreaded question is forced into the main focus of your psyche, "Are you sure?".

This exact experience is not new to those seasoned in the world of game design. It's almost expected as nothing created from an immature idea is ever perfect. For an amateur game designer though, this felt like everything you worked so hard on was disintegrated before your very eyes. As if a man a few galaxies away acquired the last infinity stone and snapped his fingers. As your game is reduced to dust, so to is your ego. That moment is usually what separates a true game designer from any disillusioned one. For a true game designer, looks at the dust and attempts to rebuild it stronger and more resilient that ever. That's what I did. It was not easy, letting go of certain aspects of your big idea while embracing alternatives. It's either that or you doom the idea to failure. I thought that was the end of it. I'd rebuild from the ashes and make something even better, but the trial is more resilient than I had thought.

For the next three years, the trial endured and the unforgiving question continued to be omnipresent in my mind. I akin my struggle to that of a child who's obsession with a movie causes it to always be on repeat every moment the parent will allow it. I kept putting the pieces together, spinning a web of bliss until a bug destroyed it's integrity. Over and Over again. I remained resilient to these crushing defeats. Some of which would put me in a designer stasis, a period where I could not proceed, could not rebuild and just had to endure the pain. Repeated destruction is exhausting. My mental state was in shambles, always on the brink of giving up. The only thing that gave me solace were the breaks I took between design sessions. Some breaks were short, a matter of weeks until I went back to the drawing board. Others were long, months of neglect of my ideas. These breaks offered my mind and ego a much needed vacation from the constant rollercoaster of emotions I experienced throughout early design.

You may be thinking, "did he pass the trial?. Your right in that assumption, why would I write a post about my struggles with the trial if I was still enduring it? Well as I had said before, the trial is unforgiving and has no set end point. So yes, I'm still enduring the trial even as I write this. But I've become stronger throughout this trial, possibly even a better game designer. While the trial is not over yet, I am starting to see something I never thought I could imagine in my wildest dreams.. an end point. I know its coming soon.. at least for this project.

Regardless of the outcome of my current trial with one game, there will always be another. Take solace that one defeat, does not mean you have lost the war. You must stay resilient and keep putting the pieces back together. The end result will produce a better game and a stronger game designer.