Between the Boughs by Evergreen Games

"mentality" and making games

my neocities site seem to have broke :( so I'll be using my bearblog again for the moment!

back in 2020, where it was the height of the pandemic and we all lived in a 'dreaming period', I like many others began to explore new hobbies and possibilities. among them was my decision to get into fighting games seriously, coinciding with the approaching release of guilty gear: strive.

it wasn't clear what I would be getting myself into beforehand- I'd played fighting games regularly throughout my life, but largely as part of hanging out with friends. I found them beautiful and dramatic, and I loved the sense of an enclosed possibility space with an iceberg of depth before my eyes.

as I began learning them, I ran into that same wall which halted all my previous attempts: it takes a lot of 'work'. before you can execute a combo you have to fail to execute a combo, a lot. before you can win you have to lose, a lot. to anyone who has yet to "get" fighting games, this can easily feel like a crushing thing.

but as I began practicing in guilty gear, I noticed something... I wasn't thinking about any of that anymore. I was just having a good time. I loved the way the game looked and felt, immersing myself in its aesthetic, its world and its textures. I enjoyed my failures as much as I did my successes: one gives you a promise of all you can aspire to, and another congratulates you for your hard work. together, they form a whole that couldn't exist without one another. and it was all tied together by my love of being in the moment as I played it.

I realized it quite fittingly reminded me of my martial arts days in my childhood. in that environment, the focus was on self-improvement, of deepening your relationship to your body and mind. when I joined the wider fighting games community (FGC), I found this mentality reflected in an often deeply-considered way.

in the particular community I was in, certain values were held as dearly as the principles of a martial arts school. these values, called "mentality", were about making sure your relationship with the game was in the right place so you and others could have the best experience possible.

though not often spoken explicitly, those values were something like as follows:

recently, I realized this mentality has followed me into how I make games. I don't seek to aggrandize myself or my projects, but to demystify creation and invite others in. I treat each of my projects like a learning experience, an opportunity to build on past experience or improve a skill. and I'm focusing however I can on a process that feels enjoyable to me, so that I'm naturally motivated to continue.

in fighting games, it's understood that "mentality" is a key thing that will define your experience with them, the difference between having a good time and a miserable one. this conversation is so much at the front in fighting games because, at least in part, I believe it being such a polarizing experience makes it necessary. but all the same, I think the importance of "mentality" can apply to just about anything.

I wonder if it's especially impactful when it comes to crafts, such as making games. much like fighting games, you can never "perfect" creating games. you can only keep learning and keep growing. it's a long, continuous journey that makes it necessary to find a way to enjoy the moment. in so many ways what I'm doing is asking myself how I can enjoy what I do more and what I might like to try next. or how what I do can contribute to others' journeys in kind--because much like fighting games, making games is also a collective practice.

I find when I'm aligned with these values I'm having the most fun, and when I'm not, something almost implacable feels off. I'm still looking for more ways I can contribute to others' journeys, or add something meaningful to the collective craft. but hopefully, as I stay humble and continue practicing, I will one day reach that "victory."