Another descriptive and self-important tale hits /r/gamedev. Surely the project attached to this one isn't illegible nonsense that doesn't even have keyboard support on PC (the only platform it launched on)

https://old.reddit.com/r/gamedev/comments/1h1ceij/solo_dev_i_released_my_first_video_game_and/

https://store.steampowered.com/app/3249490/Rough_Rivals/

>Hello everyone, this is a message of motivation, disillusionment, realism? Here's the pitch: Developing a game solo for a year and a half, wearing nothing but underwear in my room.

>I grew up with a broad artistic education, raised by a family of artists. I've dabbled in comics, literature, studied film at university, and for the past three years, I've been teaching myself programming in my spare time. I've always been fascinated by every aspect of artistic creation and love getting my hands dirty—I enjoy doing everything. So, when I realized we live in an age where someone in their room wearing underwear can make a video game alone, I thought, "Well, I have the right to strip down and give this game dev career thing a shot too."

>Here's the very ordinary, unromantic tale of the consequences of that decision and the reality it brought to my daily life. I won't go into too much detail about the process or pretend I was some motivational winner-boy full of discipline throughout the two years of development. Here are a few things I can share:

>I cut back my shifts at the restaurant where I worked to the bare minimum to avoid starving and to maintain some semblance of social interaction. My week was divided as follows: three days working at the restaurant, three days working at home, and Sundays off (spoiler: "rest" is a vague concept that quickly became "just work because it's too fun not to").

>When I started, it was going to be an RTS game about American football in a post-apocalyptic world. Eventually, the RTS part went down the drain (taking about six months of work with it). I changed my mind about the game's design countless times, made every mistake possible—technical, artistic, commercial, you name it—which had me going in the wrong direction for months (though I wouldn't call it "wasted time" since those mistakes taught me the most).

>I worked 8 to 14 hours a day on my project during my free days, sometimes even after shifts at the restaurant, late into the night. I maintained decent discipline overall, with some inevitable slumps, but I was lucky to be captivated by what I was doing—it never felt like an insurmountable effort to sit at my desk.

>I wasn't entirely alone. Beyond the precious support of my family and friends, my brother (a 3D artist) helped with visuals, and a musician friend created the soundtrack and some sound design elements.

>Now, to the heart of what I wanted to share with fellow devs and anyone embarking on long-term projects who know what it's like to rely solely on yourself to see something through: what motivates us. For me, it was first the joy of believing in a game I'd dream of playing, then the immense pride in realizing I could actually make it, and finally, the wild hope of turning this labor into a full-time job that could pay the bills.

>So, after the final three-month sprint, my game is out. True to my careless self from two years ago, I botched the marketing and only started two months ago (Steam page, social media, etc.). That sprint was both the most beautiful and the most grueling period of the year. I fought off discouragement, impostor syndrome, bugs, and irrational fears. But I also relished the sense of accomplishment, the joy of finishing something, of touching something tangible and serious (admin work, commercialization, technical release, etc.) and finally being able to share my work with others.

>The feeling that carried me most towards the end was this: "I'm creating a game that'll be fun to play with friends, that'll give siblings some wild competitive evenings. And I'm finishing it with love—I've made it beautiful, I've made it good."

>Of course, nothing's ever perfect, but it has to be finished first. And here I am. I've finished. It's a strange feeling because I've done almost nothing else this past year. Every morning, I'd spring out of bed, driven by this incredible momentum, my love for the project, and the passion for creation. When I finally posted the game on Steam (a week ago), the build was approved very quickly, and I found myself facing the mighty "PUBLISH" button. That's when I was hit by overwhelming exhaustion. I basically locked myself away, sleeping a lot, watching movies, ignoring social media—doing everything but what a developer launching a game should do.

>This morning, I clicked the button. The game is live.

>Honestly, I'm feeling very conflicted, and I wonder if others can relate. The motivation and passion that fueled me have been buried under the exhaustion from overwork. I don't want to touch my game, play it, or even talk about it anymore. My physical strength, discipline, and energy are gone—right when I should be pushing hard to promote it.

>On the other hand, I'm incredibly proud! I finished my project, fulfilled my commitments, and created something that feels beyond "amateur"—good enough to silence my impostor syndrome and put it up for sale.

>But here's the thing: nothing has changed. I have 150 wishlists, sold about 20 copies, and I'm still in my underwear in my room.

>To be clear, I didn't expect immediate success, torrents of cash, or explosive fame. In fact, I set my expectations so low that I could only be "disappointed in a good way" (« déçu en bien » as we say in my native language). But what touches me deeply is this strange feeling of not having truly "achieved" my project, of not taking it as far as my ambitions were when I first imagined it.

>Now, I can't wait to rest and start working on a new project—armed with all the mistakes I've made and the valuable lessons I've learned. Honestly, I wish I could feel the same motivation, passion, and energy today that I had throughout the process.

>So, my conclusion boils down to this: We work in reality to give life to another reality, driven by the fantasy that this very fantasy will one day become reality.

>What do you think?

>PS : For those interested in seeing the result of my work: here is the Steam page.

It's like a brawler where you try to get the ball to the endzone which is cool as a concept. Its great that this guy finished something and sold copies. I just really hated how "stripping into my underwear" was brought up multiple times. Also it was really funny reading the comments that are acting as if he's some kind of superhuman for accomplishing this. The consensus of the top comments is that marketing would have saved the project.

Its not as simple as this but I often ask people to imagine that their game could magically be shown to everyone on the planet that would buy it on the spot. How many sales do you think that would be. I obviously can't say for certain here but if that happened here he'd maybe take home mid-to-high five figures? Now imagine how far that much would get him in marketing.