Stop Dreaming, Start Shipping: How to Scope Your Game and Actually Finish It

Alright, let’s talk about getting games done. Not just dreaming, but releasing. Too many talented developers get lost in the process. I want to help you avoid that frustrating fate.

The Siren Song of Endless Possibilities

We all feel it: that rush of ideas. An RPG with a thousand quests, a platformer where gravity shifts, a city builder that simulates every citizen. It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?

That blank canvas seems to beg for everything. Each new feature seems vital, promising pure genius. This feeling? Danger.

The Feature Creep Quagmire

The bright spark dims, revealing a dark truth. Limitless ambition births feature creep. New systems get bolted on; the design doc balloons to ridiculous sizes.

Suddenly, you’re not making a game. You’re building a Frankenstein’s monster, patched together with duct tape and hope. Burnout looms like a storm cloud. Hope fades with each passing, unfocused day.

I remember my first big project: a sprawling space sim. Mining, trading, combat, diplomacy… I wanted it all. It crashed and burned spectacularly, a half-finished mess mocking my ambition.

The Zen of Constraints

Restricting scope isn’t creative death. It’s creative life. Walls force you to think outside the box within a defined area.

Think of a haiku: the rigid syllable count forces meaning into every word. Game development is the same, only more interactive.

Knowing where the edge is lets you focus on perfecting the core. Polish what truly matters to a mirror sheen. Deliver a cohesive, satisfying experience that makes players want more.

Find Your “North Star”

What’s the one thing your game must nail? The core mechanic that will grab players and never let go?

Zero in on that. Master it. Make it shine like the sun, drawing players in like moths to a flame. The rest is just garnish, adding flavor but not the main course.

Hades excels at its combat loop, making every encounter engaging. Minecraft nails the joy of discovery and creative freedom. Find your North Star and build around it.

Carving Out Your Space

Start with the smallest playable game – the Minimum Viable Product (MVP). The absolute least you can do to make it fun and engaging.

Then, start chopping ruthlessly. Does this really enhance the core experience? Be honest with yourself, even if it hurts to cut that awesome feature.

Be brutally honest about your time, skills, and cash – the things you’re actually working with. Adjust your vision now to match your resources.

The “Icebox” Approach

Keep an “Icebox” list for later. These are cool ideas, but not essential to the MVP. Finish the MVP, then revisit the Icebox with fresh eyes.

This keeps feature creep from killing your game and your motivation. Plus, it gives you a roadmap for future updates and expansions.

Kill your darlings without hesitation. That amazing idea that doesn’t fit the core vision? Let it go, no matter how painful. It’s better for the game’s overall health.

Case Study: Baba is You

Arvi Teikari (Hempuli) created Baba is You, a game built on clever constraint. He understood the power of limitations deeply. The core: rewriting the rules of the game within the game itself.

The visuals are simple, the premise is tight, and the execution is brilliant. This laser focus allowed him to create ingenious and mind-bending puzzles.

This made Baba is You a cult hit, a shining example of what focus and constraint can achieve in game development. He made it work because of, not in spite of, limitations.

Dodging the Traps of Development

The biggest mistake? Thinking tasks take less time than they actually do in reality. Double your initial time estimates, then add some extra buffer for the unexpected.

Another killer is skipping or neglecting playtesting until the very end of the process. A broken game, no matter how ambitious, is ultimately unplayable and therefore useless. Test constantly with different players.

Find a mentor, join a community, and share your work with others for feedback. You’re not alone in the trenches, even though it may feel like it sometimes.

Shipping is Victory, No Matter the Size

Remember: a finished game, however small, trumps a “perfect” one stuck in development hell. Perfection is the enemy of done, and it’s a trap.

A small, polished gem beats an unfinished magnum opus every single time without exception. Get your game to the finish line and release it.

That shipped game proves you can do it, regardless of the reviews or sales figures. It’s a learning experience, a portfolio piece, and a stepping stone to bigger and better projects. Ship it and celebrate your achievement.

Practical Exercise: Your Dream, Scoped

Think of that game you’ve always wanted to build; the one that keeps you up at night. Write down three non-negotiable features that define its core. The game cannot exist without them; these are fundamental.

Now, list five “would be nice” features that would add depth but aren’t critical. Put those in the “Icebox” for potential future development. Now, delete everything else from your initial vision.

You just successfully scoped a game, stripping it down to its bare essentials. Now build it, starting with the core mechanics. One step, one line of code, and one pixel at a time will get you there.

Embrace limitations, and you’ll find your potential unlocked. You’ll stop dreaming endlessly and start creating purposefully. Ship your game. The world needs your unique vision, even in a small package. It’s better than no package at all.