It's been a long time. I've been saying that it's been a long time for a long time, but it's been a long time since the last time I said it's been a long time, which is what truly makes it a long time.
Hot Clock is coming out either tonight or tomorrow. I still have some last-minute promo-type stuff to put together for it, but yeah. My first game. Or, at least, my first FINISHED game.
This is one of those things where I need a body of work in order to make the stuff I want to make, but the stuff I make to build a body of work never comes out because I end up wanting to make it too bad. It's like refusing to play in a band until you've mastered playing in a band.
I'm too used to seeing people who appear as if they strike gold in one swing. Toby Fox came out the gate strong. So did bill wurtz. But I imagine a lot of the stuff that got them to that point were behind closed doors. That has kinda been the way I've been doing stuff, by assuming I too have to hit a home run in my first day on the field.
As time has gone on, I've started to realize that I can't let this mindset take me over. The game I'm releasing tomorrow is not in its theoretical best state. There are lots of things I would have loved to add. But it's been in the oven for about a year now (possibly even much longer), and I need to accept the reality of what I am making. That doesn't mean I can't make it fun, or do cool stuff with it, or approach it with a spark of creativity. But I need to manage my expectations on the things I make if I'm ever going to get out of this valley I've coasted into.
The bigger problem is that I just let fear guide me. I keep thinking that my entire perception as a creator and as a person hinges on my debut. I wonder how many dumps Norm Macdonald had to play before he finally got scouted for SNL.
Part of me has regrets for not finishing or preserving my early stuff, because it could have meant learning this lesson decades ago. But because I can't go back and reclaim what time has destroyed, I can only look forward and start again. I'm nervous and excited and tired and god dammit, I really want a pizza. This home stretch stuff is still a new feeling to me. I don't like it, and I won't like it until it's over and the dust has settled.
I'm going to go eat something. And then, we'll see what I do with the night.