SPECIAL
How to Really Make a Game
I've been trying to write this piece for about two years.
Not because I didn't know what I wanted to say — I've known that for a long time.
Making a game is the hardest creative thing a human being can attempt.
Full stop. I just couldn't figure out how to say it in a way that didn't sound like hyperbole, or worse, like cope from someone who's spent too long inside the industry.
But the more I looked at it, the more I became convinced it's not hyperbole at all. It's just true. And the data, the design philosophy, the history of the craft, it all keeps pointing back to that same conclusion.
So I wrote the piece. It's long. Properly long. Ten acts, a few statistics that'll make you wince, and more than one moment where I had to put the laptop down.
A few things I think are worth knowing before you go in:
One game developer wears, on average, eight professional hats at once. Not metaphorically. Eight. That's a conservative number.
48% of all games released on Steam in 2025 made less than $500 in their lifetime. The median revenue was under $200. These aren't abandoned projects — most of them were someone's best effort.
The GDC 2026 report just dropped, and the picture it paints of where the industry actually is right now is something every player, developer, and person who's ever said "I'd love to make a game someday" should read.
And then there's R.E.P.O. and PEAK — two games made by tiny teams with no marketing budget that have collectively pulled in millions of players in the last few months. Which is either the most encouraging thing you'll hear today, or the most complicated. Probably both.
The piece covers sound design, world-building, player psychology, the economics of ambition, and what it actually means to ship something. It's not a tutorial and it's not a teardown. It's an argument. One I've been building for a long time.
I'd grab a coffee for this one. Set aside thirty minutes. Maybe more.
Always Indieformer, Josh & Clem