In the we're in post I submitted about half an hour ago ( https://ldjam.com/events/ludum-dare/60/$433240/$434271 ), I touched briefly on my struggles in the last parts of jams. I have come up with a couple points that I think will help me and I hope will help my fellow jammers.
There's something I'd like to share with my fellow jammers, particularly those of you who, like me, sometimes struggle with feeling that you're not quite good enough.
I've been participating in Ludum Dare for 8 consecutive jams now, and despite all that experience, there's one thing that still manages to get its claws into me during the final stretch of a jam: impostor syndrome.
I'm a hobbyist programmer. I don't have a computer science degree, I don't work in software development, and pretty much everything I know has come from teaching myself, experimenting, making mistakes, and occasionally wondering why on earth something that worked five minutes ago has suddenly decided it doesn't want to anymore.
Meanwhile, I'm surrounded by people who are genuinely talented at what they do.
One of my teammates, Biz, is a college-trained audio specialist who produces amazing work with tools and knowledge I'd dearly love to have. Another, Frank, does this sort of thing for a living.
And then there's me. Professional Bug Creator. :)
Now, because we're scattered across different time zones, Ludum Dare begins at 8:30 in the morning for me, while my teammates are starting late at night with one carrying on in to the wee hours while we brainstorm. We generally agree on an idea together, then Frank heads off to bed and I spend the next twelve hours getting the initial game loop up and running.
By the time Frank returns fully rested, we've usually got something playable to work with as I will usually have implemented at least the basic gameplay loop. Then we tag team in roughly 12 hour shifts for the rest of the jam.
I've always considered that simply doing my part.
But I was talking to a friend who works in psychology about how I sometimes struggle during game jams, especially in those final 24 hours when the deadline is looming and the to-do list seems determined to grow faster than we can shrink it.
They offered me a perspective I'd never really considered.
At the beginning of a jam, being a generalist is an enormous advantage. There's a hundred different things that need doing, and having someone who can jump between them and get things moving is incredibly valuable.
But towards the end, that same strength can become a burden.
Because you understand a little bit of everything, you can see everything that's still unfinished.
And because you've spent the whole jam jumping in wherever you're needed, it's easy to start feeling that everything left undone is somehow your responsibility.
That really struck a chord with me.
I realised that, somewhere along the way, I'd started measuring my contribution not by what I'd accomplished, but by everything I hadn't managed to finish.
Suddenly, twelve hours spent building a playable foundation didn't seem particularly impressive because there were still bugs to fix, features to implement, and things that needed polishing.
And when you're tired, watching the clock, and comparing yourself to teammates who are professionals in their respective fields, that little voice starts whispering that perhaps you're the weak link.
But here's what I'm trying to remind myself of this time around.
You don't have to be the best programmer, artist, musician, or designer in the room to be a valuable member of a team.
You don't have to know everything.
You don't have to fix everything.
And perhaps most importantly, the things you haven't finished don't erase the things you've accomplished.
I'm still learning to put that into practice. I suspect I'll have to remind myself of it more than once during this jam, particularly when the final deadline starts creeping up on us.
But if you're reading this and you've ever felt that you're not contributing enough, that everyone around you is more talented, or that the unfinished to-do list is somehow evidence of your own inadequacy, I hope you'll remember something.
Take a moment to look at what you've actually helped create.
Not just what's left to do.
And remember that Ludum Dare isn't just about producing a finished game. It's about experimenting, learning, collaborating, occasionally breaking everything, and seeing what wonderful, ridiculous things people can create in a ridiculously short amount of time.
Your contribution matters, even when you're too exhausted to recognise it yourself.
Good luck with the jam, everyone.
And remember to have fun. That's why we're here in the first place. :)
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