I’ve written a lot about how important setting expectations are for how you perceive the success of your project. I got many replies on my last newsletter on the subject, so I’m guessing it’s something you’re thinking about, too. I came up with an expectations tool I’m excited to try out. It’s more of a thinky-tool than, like, an electric expectations drill or something, but I bet it’ll be useful for sawing negative thoughts off your process!
How does setting expectations set you up for success? Let’s say you design a game in a weekend for a game jam, and your expectation is this will be a good learning experience. That’s a very reasonable expectation, IMHO. If you learn a lot, then yay! Learning is fun! Your project was a success. Go ahead and give yourself a printable Certificate of Success.
However, let’s say your expectation of the game jam was to make a multi-million dollar smash indie hit. The odds of that happening over a weekend are infinitesimal! When your game inevitably fails to become the next Balatro, you may think of the game as a failure. Maybe you’ll give up on game jams altogether and become disillusioned. (I checked Etsy, but no one makes a printable Certificate of Disillusionment.)
Here’s the problem, as I see it. We often don’t articulate our goals for our creative projects before we start working. Instead, our goals float above us like swirling clouds, as we toil away on nights and weekends. And even when we do articulate them, they’re not always accurate to how we really feel. Here’s what happens to me: I think my goal is X, when really it’s Y. Someone might ask me, “What do you hope to get out of this game project?” I’ll say, “I just want to sharpen my design skills.” That sounds good to myself and it feels good to say. Or at least, it feels better than, “This game will be my magic carpet to unimaginable wealth and endless accolades.” While it might be true that I want to sharpen my design skills, my subconscious second goal of launching my own game studio lurks in my expectations cloud like a Lakitu, ready to bop me on the head with a surprise spike ball if my new game isn’t a money maker.
I got inspired recently emailing about this with my longtime friend Ballard Boyd, a fantastic filmmaker who directed segments on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert for its entire run. He responded to my newsletter “What Do We Owe Our Projects?” about how the amount of time he’s invested into his upcoming first feature film Jackrabbit has raised his expectations for its success. But he continually reminds himself that the act of creating an indie feature needs to be the source of fulfillment in and of itself, since that’s what he can control. Ballard cannot force Sundance to screen his movie, but he can finish the movie, and it’s a miracle any movie gets made.
I’ve seen a version of this play out in my family. My mom, Gail Golden, is a veteran actress of stage and screen. She was the first voice of Strawberry Shortcake and she played Mrs. Claus in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade for many years. Mom managed to finish an indie film called Give & Take. I helped her get to the finish line by reading multiple drafts of the script, finding an artist for the poster, and contributing the lyrics for a soundalike to “Mac the Knife” when she couldn’t get the rights. (I am available to write soundalike or parody lyrics for your movie, album, or nephew’s Bar Mitzvah. Email for rates.)
I’m still in awe of mom for finishing her movie. It’s the creative equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest or winning the Nathan’s hot dog eating contest. A physically and emotionally demanding venture that requires a lot of pre-planning. When I asked mom why she wanted to make her movie, the answer she gave me was that she wanted to tell her story about how disappointing it was to work at Disney World, a major career goal for her. The film was released and won awards at several small film festivals. Success Certificate, right? But the movie didn’t become an indie darling. She shared her frustrations with me. She thought the film would go bigger. There were dreams of moviemaking stardom swirling in her cloud, and they rained on what could’ve been a triumphant parade. Expectations, man!
In my reply to Ballard, I noted how many creatives have task lists to keep track of what needs to be done. What about making a list of goals you hope to achieve from a project, ideally made at the start? My idea was to separate the goals into two categories: Basic Goals and Stretch Goals. (My recent Kickstarter project no doubt inspired my use of the phrase “Stretch Goals.”)
This idea of committing my goals to paper and categorizing them is something I’m going to try on my future projects.
Let’s take a new game project as an example…
Basic Goals
* Learn how to design a roguelike.
* Practice fast prototyping.
* Collaborate with my artist friend.
Stretch Goals
* Get 10 positive reviews on Steam.
* Pitch the game to a publisher.
* Be the next Balatro! $$$$$$
The Basic Goals are what I need to accomplish in order for the project to be successful. In this made-up example, if making this game doesn’t teach me how to design a roguelike, the project will not be a success. The Basic Goals are the ones you can control, more or less. I can watch YouTube videos about designing roguelikes as I program, so that’s within my own power. (Unless YouTube serves me so many ads that all tutorial videos are functionally unwatchable!!)
The Stretch Goals are nice-to-haves. It would be nice if these things happened for my project, but they’re not essential for success. Stretch Goals may require elements I don’t have, like a big budget, marketing genius, or endless luck. Sure, I can give a free key to Steam reviewers, but that doesn’t mean they’ll necessarily review my game. That’s out of my control, and will not affect my perception of the project’s success.
As I said, I believe the goals list would be most effective at the earliest stages of the project. It’s the same reason you negotiate a contract prior to working. You want to set the terms and have them in writing. In this case, for yourself. If my game doesn’t become the next Balatro, I can look at the list and say, well, that was a Stretch Goal. I wasn’t banking on making Balatro bank. I set out to practice fast prototyping and I did exactly that. Therefore, I can be proud of my project and what I accomplished.
I’m excited about this idea. I hope it’ll help me push my clouds away and let me bask in the sunshine of creativity. Get outta here, Lakitu! No one likes you. Are you even in the movies?
🎲 Your Turn: Have you ever released a creative project and felt disappointed? Do you think a goals list would be helpful? Is there a way to improve the tool? I’d love to know what you think! Reply directly to this email or leave a comment by hitting the orange button below.
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