How I make video games
Specifically my newest game, Saving D.A.D.
Some fun news: I made a game! It’s called Saving D.A.D, and it’s out now for iPhone. But first, let me share how I make games.
My tools
Macbook Pro
Sketch (for artwork, $9/month)
BFXR (for sound, free)
Construct 3 (for code, $99/year)
Videoleap (for video editing, $36/year)
And, of course an Apple developer account ($99/year)
Start with the personal
My dad died from cancer a couple years ago. It was really hard to talk about. My first book, Frankly In Love, had just come out. A big part of that book was basically a love letter to my parents while Dad was still alive. I had no idea that after my dad passed, I would find myself left with even more things I wanted to say.
For some reason, I felt like making a game would be the best way to say those things. I guess I needed that layer of fiction to give me the courage I needed?
Though the inspiration for Saving D.A.D. was serious, I also knew I had to make a game that was actually fun.
Focus on fun
I’ve made a few games at this point, in Unity, Construct, Flash, Shockwave, and Basic, and I always try to make a game I myself would like to play.
More and more, I want to make games that are simple, fun, and not too hard. I almost never enjoy super difficult games. Metroid or VVVVVV or Tetrisphere are exceptions for reasons I don’t really understand.
In the case of Saving D.A.D., I wanted to make a tile-slider style puzzle game that I could play in bite-sized chunks of time. I also wanted it to have an adventure feel, with a heartfelt story too.
Boxing myself in
There are SO many ways to make games it’s intimidating. You can easily mimic any art style, model things in 3D, and choose from an amazing assortment of game-making tools. So amazing, in fact, that it’s easy to become paralyzed by choice.
That’s why it was important to box myself in. Narrowing my options paradoxically helped me focus on being purely creative, and not get distracted by tools.
In that spirit, I came up with some rules for myself:
2D only.
iPhones only.
Only 3 colors on the screen at a time: black, white, and something else.
All artwork must be only straight lines (with one exception, during the ending).
All sound effects must be FM-generated and last no longer than a half-second each.
Each puzzle must be small and only take up two screens max.
Story and character design should be based on IM2, my old clone game I created years ago. (I find clones relatable for some reason.)
Basically, I created my own little box to sit in. But in a good way?
Go slow and play
My next step was to create what’s called a “sandbox” level. Like a real sandbox, it’s a place to play around with ideas and make a mess.
Whenever I had free time, I would go into Construct and just start coding up little objects. Construct is great because it’s so fast and simple, and although it helps to have previous coding knowledge, you don’t need to be a coder to use it.
I made baddies that traveled on a rail, blocks you could push, floor triggers, and Minesweeper-like puzzle blocks you could blow up.
I made about a hundred sound effects.
I chose nine personal photos to use as secret bonus goodies.
I bloated my Sketch design file with tons and tons of artwork, over half of which I didn’t use.
I spent a year doing this. Looking back, I realize this was a way of mourning Dad.
Get serious, but keep it casual
Once I felt I had all the pieces I needed to make at least the start of a fun game, I began building levels for serious. It was just me-myself-and-I, and I’m not a professional game maker, and I had no deadline. All I knew was that the game would be structured around a single surviving clone on a quest to save his home—the Starship D.A.D.—from destruction by deadly alien tumors. The adventure would take him through the various sectors of the ship: the Brain, Lungs, Prostate, and so on until he finally reached the mysterious Heart.
I blundered along as I built out the game levels, creating unsolvable (oops!) puzzles, plugging huge holes in my logic, or realizing last minute that I needed to develop pretty significant features. Creating a reliable (and invisible) save game function, for example, took for-ev-er. That was fine, because I was in no rush. By keeping things loose, I avoided putting pressure on myself.
After over a year, the game was finally finished. I invited friends to test it, and they thought it was fun. They especially liked the dialogue between IM2 and D.A.D., plus the heartbreaking twist at the end.
The game was ready to be submitted to the App Store. But I hesitated. I hesitated for six months, actually.
For six months, Saving D.A.D. just kinda sat there.
Time to face fear
I realized I was hesitating because the idea of submitting the game felt like letting go of a part of Dad. It’s the same with this hat he used to wear. The hat hangs in my closet, and yet I can’t bear to touch it or even look at it. Similarly, I was afraid to even think about an actual release.
But as time stretched on (and likewise the pandemic), one day I looked up and realized two years had gone by since Dad died. Unlike me, my mom had moved on from mourning and now lives with Dad always in her mind. She talks to him often. We did the traditional thing (called jesa) where we have our first family meal of the new year with a picture of Dad at the head of the table.
Maybe it’s because of this last jesa, but something in me finally let go enough to let me publish the game. I went through the usual Apple App Store rigamarole: screenshots, video, description, and blablabla.
Going live
I think the key to shipping out any creative work live is to take yourself out of it. Enough time had gone by to where I could see my game through relatively objective eyes. That’s important if you want to describe work in a way that makes sense. Like, I used to call Saving D.A.D. a tribute to my dad, but to people who don’t know any of that, it’s really a heartfelt puzzle adventure.
Other tidbits I learned:
I video-captured all the gameplay. Games are notoriously fragile things that can vanish over time, so it’s important to have an official record in a stable format for posterity.
I used iMovie’s “Create App Preview” function to make the App Store videos. It’s super easy.
I used Videoleap to create a cropped version for older phones. Videoleap rules.
I created happy music in GarageBand for the app preview. In another life, I swear I’m a music composer.
Then I pushed the Submit for Publication button and waited. Apple took less than a day to approve and publish it.
What now?
Now that the game is available, I guess I should market it or something. I very much suck at marketing so this should be hilarious.
For now, you can learn more about the game or just grab a copy and start playing.
Thanks for reading! I’ll get back to talking about writing stuff in the next newsletter.
— Dave
AWESOME. So many nuggets of goodness here.