- Joined
- Mar 7, 2014
- Messages
- 1,259
- Reaction score
- 1,540
- First Language
- Portuguese
I have little experience as a commercial games developer, but from a creative's POV I'll give my pros and cons for either approach. But first, oh boy, this thread opener sure had some interesting things to dissect.
But, uh, back to the creative thing.
While I partially agree with @orange~ when it comes to quality over quantity -- actually, not partially, I fully agree -- releasing smaller games has a ton of creative benefits over larger ones. And it does not at all mean lower quality. In fact, @orange~ 's logic here works in the opposite direction too: quality over length. length, after all, is a form of quantity.
Now, creating multipler smaller games will drastically change a lot of things in your creative process. So it depends on the type of creator that you are, and the audience and experience you're trying to deliver. A larger, richer game, full with details and subplots and an immersive world to engage with, with emergent mechanics to uncover... That takes a lot of work, and the results are often worth it. Some of the greatest games fit exactly this, and although indie games don't necessarily fit that bill all the time, a ton of the really powerful ones do. And I think @orange~ 's own works are a good example of that. Beautifully rich and layered.
It allows you to create this large, imposing structure the player can house themselves into. With a world of themes and lore to explain and engage with. Beautiful. But that's only one approach. Think of it as, idk, X-Files: The mythology arc episodes. (If they were good. Chris Carter sucks, but he fooled us for a good few seasons)
Now when it comes to smaller games, the inverse becomes a thing, especially when smaller doesn't necessarily refer to game length but development time and resources: You have less to work with. It isn't an imposing, tall structure for the player to find shelter and wonder, anymore. It's a... House. Could be a cozy cabin in the woods, with a fireplace, temporary but memorable respite for a wintery night. But it could also just be that really unforgettably sh*tty hostel.
I'd draw a parallel to X-Files's Monster of the Week episodes. Or Sailor Moon's. (I don't watch many shows.) I would argue X-Files's strongest episodes are the MoTWs. They're short, sweet. Arcs that resolve in 1h, exploring themes not usually explored in the main myth arc. Exploring new character dynamics that aren't usually present. They're out of the box, experimental. They have less budget than the bombastic season ending double-episodes, but make up for it in sheer theming and execution. Particularly, I loved that episode where Scully got a tattoo. The circus episode. There's a lot of strong, memorable MoTW episodes in the X-Files, they start, do their thing, then they end... But often leaving you with something to think in the meanwhile.
I think the same logic can be applied to games. It can work, it can fail. Something similar I saw recently was the Voice of Cards series: 3 small JRPGs with modestly scoped stories, a lot of shared assets and gameplay. Each was moderately expensive too, at a $20 price tag. I wound up only buying the first, but that's because I'm in an extraordinarily bad financial situation, otherwise I'd have gobbled up the other two, as I've loved the first game.
The benefits of this approach can be easily seen with VoC: You can keep a consistent workflow between smaller releases. Reuse the engine, reuse the development logic, some math. Have that be your template, and refine it with each subsequent release. And by releasing a larger number of smaller projects, you have more space to play around with different concepts and themes, without necessarily making your game a theme salad. So say you release 6 games in a year: They can all share some gameplay elements, code, you keep improving your workflow... But you're also allowed to explore wildly different themes and ideas on each. If one flops, it's fine, the other can make up for it. None of them have necessarily the same potential to be deep, beloved classics like a larger, deeper game could, but the chance of one of them getting the spotlight is a bit bigger than a single one would be. The momentum keeps going.
Creatively, this is an approach that can keep your mind fresh.
If you can pull off half-decent planning and aren't overly ambitious with the scope of your projects, I definitely think creating a steady output of smaller games can be very rewarding, creatively. and logic would imply that money would follow!
God, this post could've been a whole lot smaller...
yes
you have to go for the really fancy, expensive tiers for your assets to outweigh the human cost in developing a game. if you're spending under 1k usd, that's probably cheap. especially since one asset can work for several games.
I'm sorry, but this part made me spill soda all over my keyboard. lmao
But, uh, back to the creative thing.
While I partially agree with @orange~ when it comes to quality over quantity -- actually, not partially, I fully agree -- releasing smaller games has a ton of creative benefits over larger ones. And it does not at all mean lower quality. In fact, @orange~ 's logic here works in the opposite direction too: quality over length. length, after all, is a form of quantity.
Now, creating multipler smaller games will drastically change a lot of things in your creative process. So it depends on the type of creator that you are, and the audience and experience you're trying to deliver. A larger, richer game, full with details and subplots and an immersive world to engage with, with emergent mechanics to uncover... That takes a lot of work, and the results are often worth it. Some of the greatest games fit exactly this, and although indie games don't necessarily fit that bill all the time, a ton of the really powerful ones do. And I think @orange~ 's own works are a good example of that. Beautifully rich and layered.
It allows you to create this large, imposing structure the player can house themselves into. With a world of themes and lore to explain and engage with. Beautiful. But that's only one approach. Think of it as, idk, X-Files: The mythology arc episodes. (If they were good. Chris Carter sucks, but he fooled us for a good few seasons)
Now when it comes to smaller games, the inverse becomes a thing, especially when smaller doesn't necessarily refer to game length but development time and resources: You have less to work with. It isn't an imposing, tall structure for the player to find shelter and wonder, anymore. It's a... House. Could be a cozy cabin in the woods, with a fireplace, temporary but memorable respite for a wintery night. But it could also just be that really unforgettably sh*tty hostel.
I'd draw a parallel to X-Files's Monster of the Week episodes. Or Sailor Moon's. (I don't watch many shows.) I would argue X-Files's strongest episodes are the MoTWs. They're short, sweet. Arcs that resolve in 1h, exploring themes not usually explored in the main myth arc. Exploring new character dynamics that aren't usually present. They're out of the box, experimental. They have less budget than the bombastic season ending double-episodes, but make up for it in sheer theming and execution. Particularly, I loved that episode where Scully got a tattoo. The circus episode. There's a lot of strong, memorable MoTW episodes in the X-Files, they start, do their thing, then they end... But often leaving you with something to think in the meanwhile.
I think the same logic can be applied to games. It can work, it can fail. Something similar I saw recently was the Voice of Cards series: 3 small JRPGs with modestly scoped stories, a lot of shared assets and gameplay. Each was moderately expensive too, at a $20 price tag. I wound up only buying the first, but that's because I'm in an extraordinarily bad financial situation, otherwise I'd have gobbled up the other two, as I've loved the first game.
The benefits of this approach can be easily seen with VoC: You can keep a consistent workflow between smaller releases. Reuse the engine, reuse the development logic, some math. Have that be your template, and refine it with each subsequent release. And by releasing a larger number of smaller projects, you have more space to play around with different concepts and themes, without necessarily making your game a theme salad. So say you release 6 games in a year: They can all share some gameplay elements, code, you keep improving your workflow... But you're also allowed to explore wildly different themes and ideas on each. If one flops, it's fine, the other can make up for it. None of them have necessarily the same potential to be deep, beloved classics like a larger, deeper game could, but the chance of one of them getting the spotlight is a bit bigger than a single one would be. The momentum keeps going.
Creatively, this is an approach that can keep your mind fresh.
If you can pull off half-decent planning and aren't overly ambitious with the scope of your projects, I definitely think creating a steady output of smaller games can be very rewarding, creatively. and logic would imply that money would follow!
God, this post could've been a whole lot smaller...
