"Stretch Goals to Graveyard: Our Kickstarter's Scope Creep Story"

From Funding to Fury: How Our Kickstarter Stretch Goals Almost Killed Us

Crowdfunding felt like a dream come true. We had this great core game idea, and our Kickstarter blew past its initial goal in days. Suddenly, we weren’t just making a game; we were obligated to deliver a much, much bigger one.

The Siren Song of Stretch Goals

It started innocently. A few extra character classes here, a bonus dungeon there. We figured, “Hey, we’re already funded! This is just icing on the cake.”

That’s where we went wrong. We hadn’t truly considered the ramifications.

One stretch goal, “Expanded Crafting System,” became our albatross. We envisioned a simple system, maybe 10-15 recipes.

The community, bless their hearts, had other ideas. They wanted intricate crafting trees, unique resources per region, and item degradation.

We, in our naivete, nodded along. “Sounds great!”

The Domino Effect of Demands

The “Expanded Crafting System” wasn’t the only culprit. “Improved AI” quickly morphed from “enemies don’t get stuck on walls” to “enemies exhibit complex tactical behavior and coordinate attacks.”

“More Music Tracks” wasn’t simply five extra songs. It meant commissioning a new composer, integrating the tracks seamlessly, and designing encounters that utilized them effectively.

Each stretch goal, seemingly small on its own, created a cascade of unforeseen work. Every new feature required testing, balancing, and integration with existing systems.

Our scope exploded. We underestimated the time and resources needed for each addition.

Delays, Dollars, and Disillusionment

The consequences were predictable: massive delays. What was initially an estimated 12-month development cycle stretched to 24.

Budget overruns piled up. We had to hire additional programmers and artists, eating into our marketing budget and personal savings.

Team morale plummeted. The constant pressure to deliver on ever-expanding promises led to burnout and resentment. We were constantly firefighting, fixing bugs introduced by new features while simultaneously trying to implement even more features.

The joy of game development evaporated. It became a slog.

Community Backlash and Broken Promises

Our backers, initially enthusiastic, grew increasingly impatient. Update posts detailing delays were met with anger and skepticism.

We had overpromised and underdelivered. It damaged our reputation.

Some backers demanded refunds. Others accused us of incompetence. We understood their frustration. We were frustrated too.

The Halfhearted Course Correction

We finally realized we needed to scale back. We began cutting features and simplifying systems.

This was a difficult process. We had to explain to our backers why we couldn’t deliver on everything we promised.

It was a painful lesson in managing expectations. We learned that it’s better to underpromise and overdeliver than the other way around.

The simplified crafting system was still more robust than our original plan, but much more manageable. We reluctantly sidelined the complex AI enhancements.

What We Should Have Done Differently

Hindsight is 20/20. Here’s what we would change if we could go back:

First, we should have thoroughly evaluated each stretch goal’s impact on development time, budget, and team workload before announcing it. A simple spreadsheet mapping out dependencies and potential risks would have been invaluable.

Second, we should have been more conservative with our stretch goals. We could have focused on polishing core mechanics or adding quality-of-life features instead of introducing entirely new systems.

Third, we needed to manage community expectations more effectively. Instead of blindly agreeing to every suggestion, we should have been more upfront about the limitations of our resources and the constraints of game development. We could have used community polls to prioritize features and set realistic expectations.

Fourth, we should have planned for the unexpected. A contingency fund could have helped us absorb some of the budget overruns.

Post-Mortem: A Pyrrhic Victory

We did eventually finish the game. It was released to mixed reviews. Some backers were satisfied, others were disappointed.

The experience taught us invaluable lessons about project management, scope control, and community communication. It nearly broke us, but we emerged stronger and wiser.

Would we do another Kickstarter? Maybe. But next time, we’d have a much clearer understanding of the potential pitfalls.

Learn from our mistakes. Plan your stretch goals carefully. Manage community expectations realistically. And always, always, underestimate the scope of your project. Your sanity, and your game, will thank you for it.