There is a saying amongst artists, poets and creatives generally that a piece of work is never finished, it is merely abandoned. The original statement is more nuanced than that, of course, and comes from the French poet Paul Valery. (I am reliably informed by the excellent website Quote Investigator (link).
I have not read his whole essay on the topic and perhaps he walks back the negative connotations of the shortened version that has solidified in the public mind since his days. Whether he did or not, I think the statement, that is often misattributed to many other famous artists (including Da Vinci, of course), has something to teach us game designers.
A game is never finished, not in a definitive, finite, final way. It would ALWAYS be possible to amend a rule, change the art or modify the rules layout. And some of us are driven to do this. The itch of perfection goads us on and we spend HOURS moving text boxes and icons a fraction of a millimetre one way or another on the page.
And, to a degree, this is a good thing.
It is almost always possible to make something better, but there comes a point where the law of diminishing returns kicks in.
Is another hour spent on that single page of layout going to make a meaningful difference? Or are you doing it because some demon is sitting on your shoulder and goading you on?
The perfection demons are real. And they know your weaknesses.
They will whisper the words in your ear that you don't want to hear - because once heard, you can't ignore them...
what about...
if you just...
check that again...
what if...
yes, it is amazing, but...
Goddamn them, they know the buttons to press. But, here's the thing, they are our demons, they are part of us. And the trick I've mostly learnt, is to use them as useful allies to reach not a point of finishing, but to a point of fruition.
By listening to my perfection demons, I am driven to always be learning, to be looking at other games on the market and considering what is good, what is great and what is just downright outstanding. Because, by finding quality work done by other people, I feed my perfection demons, and when they are fed, they get loud and pushy. They want me to do more and to do better.
how could you produce something that good?
how can you make a game as elegant as that one?
that design was so slick...
And that chatter is wonderful for driving me forward to ensure I don't produce just 'another game' but rather craft the best game I can, at this moment.
And those three words - 'at this moment' are like a magic spell that helps banish the perfection demons when they get too loud.
We can all improve, and a good creative should always be seeking to improve but we can't wait for our future 'perfect' self to produce our games, we have to make them now, in this moment.
And by thinking about the current time, by starting a project with the aim to being it to fruition by a certain deadline, then we can be motivated to do the work as well as we can - within the timeframe available.
And the magic word that silences my personal perfection demons is fruition:
Fruition, noun, meaning 'the bearing of fruit'
Assuming you are looking to make money with your creative work - book, game, music or whatever, then you have to release your art for sale.
Otherwise, you fail.
It is as simple as that.
And no amount of tricksy demon logic can counter that. Being a commercial artist means to sell art for a living. Your perfection demons only care about the second part, so hit them with the first part and you'll soon find they shut the hell up.
And with all respect to Paul Valery, that isn't abandonment, that's release, that's commerce, that's fruition and that's real life.
Yes, always strive to make the best art you can (and by all means get those demons working for you), but if you don't bring it to a close, and pass it on to your customers, then you will not make a career of your art.
As a side note, I tend not to plan my blogs in advance, I start with a rough idea and work through them in a single draft. Obviously, I recheck for typo's extra but I often find that after the hour or so that it takes to write one, I can no longer judge the quality of it. Maybe it's good, maybe it's trash.
My perfection demons love that, they are standing behind my chair as I write this suggesting I take longer on it. Yes, sure guys. I could do that, or I could go back to working on my new game. This is, after all, free advice and musings, folks are entirely at liberty to ignore it if they don't think much of it.
And here is my final advice on this topic for now; knowing when to listen to your demons, and when to ignore them is a powerful skill but well worth cultivating.
Until next time, keep creating and gaming.
Stephen
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