2024 Year in Review

Hello Patrons!

So, this is usually the post where I deconstruct the last year of Game Maker's Toolkit. I look at the YouTube stats, talk about how each video performed, and figure out about plans for the next year.

And I'll do some of that in this post - but it won't be like a normal post-mortem. Because 2024 wasn't like any other year. 2024 was the year where everything changed.

So in November, I finally released my cute puzzle platformer, Mind Over Magnet, on Steam.

And now, more than a month after the game was released, I've come to realise that this was actually the biggest event in GMTK's history, because it changed everything about what I do here - and it did so in a number of ways that I absolutely did not expect.

So, I'm going to break down the ways that releasing my first game have changed my life.

New experience

There’s always been a little voice in the back of my head that says, “Why are you making videos about game design? You’ve never even made a game.” Sometimes, that voice is echoed by YouTube commenters.

Basically, there’s a fear that GMTK lacks credibility because I’m not an actual game developer.

Now, I’ve never really paid it much heed, mainly because I’ve always seen what I do as journalism. I am reporting on how other people have made video games. I’m not telling you how to make platformer levels - I’m just showing you how Nintendo makes platformer levels. Plus, I very often interview real game developers and designers to make sure my stuff is accurate and useful.

So, I never really felt the need to make a game. I didn’t feel like I needed to prove anything.

And in retrospect, I don’t think releasing Mind Over Magnet has actually done all that much for improving my credibility or integrity. I’ve gone from “a guy who has never made a game” to “a guy who has only made one, small, mediocre game.” Not much of a step up!

But what I didn’t anticipate is that making my own game would provide an enormous wealth of experience, which will help inform all future videos and video ideas.

For instance, the video about how Valve conducted playtesting on Portal was a direct influence of making a game and seeing just how important playtesting is. And in the future, I’ll tackle topics like prototyping, production, and scope - things that I would never have thought to discuss without this direct experience.

Oh, and I guess it probably was a factor when changing the game jam from 48 to 96 hours. I know how hard it is to make a game now!

So, making a game didn’t suddenly make me an expert on game design. It barely changed my credibility at all. And it won’t convince my YouTube trolls that I know what I’m talking about. But I’ve learned so much about making games, and that will inform everything I do with GMTK.

A new revenue stream

Making Mind Over Magnet has taken a toll on the performance of the YouTube channel and this Patreon page. It has impacted my ability to make videos every year since I started "Developing" in 2021, but 2024 was the worst yet.

In 2024, I made my fewest videos ever in a single year: just 13. Overall views, for new and legacy videos, only hit 18 million - the lowest since 2017.  And I gained just over 90,000 subscribers, which is a little more than half of last year’s subscriber increase.

Thankfully, the revenue was about the same. I’ve added more adverts to YouTube, and I now feel more comfortable doing this as there are multiple options for people to watch videos without ads. Those options are YouTube Premium, Nebula, and the $5 tier on Patreon. This way, I can make the same revenue from fewer videos.

But Patreon - which is my main source of revenue - has taken a bit of a hit. Totally understandable: fewer GMTK videos meant fewer opportunities to recruit new backers. Many of my existing backers felt I wasn’t delivering the type of content they signed up for. So, Patreon income has dropped for the second year in a row, bringing my total video-based revenue down.

All in all, then, it was a pretty disastrous year for the channel. Fewer videos, fewer views, fewer subscribers, and less money.

But then Mind Over Magnet launched on Steam, and it did pretty dang well. In the first month of the game’s launch, it made about twice as much money as I make from YouTube, and more than half of the revenue I get from Patreon.

I had always hoped that when I finally released the game, it would at least make enough money to cover the shortfall I had incurred on Patreon while making the game. I didn’t expect it to hugely increase my income—or to create a whole new revenue stream I can rely on in the future.

(Just a note that I don’t include other revenue streams like Itch, Teespring, Substack, Nebula, Spotify, or consulting and speaking fees, as they are all very small in comparison to these main three.)

And while Mind Over Magnet obviously won’t have another week like its launch week, I will still see additional income through Steam sales, events, and bundles. Plus, maybe there will be more games…

A new position

Okay, this is kind of a weird one, so I’ll work out my exact feelings as I type these words.

When Mind Over Magnet was getting close to launch, I suddenly got an influx of emails from people who wanted to talk about the game on their website or YouTube channel. In the end, I sent out more than 100 free Steam keys.

But in doing so, I realised something.

When I made GMTK, I was someone who made content about stuff that other people had made. I was analysing, critiquing, deconstructing, and explaining the work of others.

But in this instant, I switched positions. Suddenly, people were making content about the stuff I was making. I was no longer just a critic or a reporter. I wasn’t looking up anymore - people were looking up at me.

Now, I want to make sure this isn’t coming across as dismissive of critics, video essayists, or anyone like that. That is definitely, 100% not how I feel.

This type of content is difficult to make. It requires skill, care, and knowledge, and it can be a piece of art in and of itself. Someone’s review of a game can be moving and emotional. Someone’s essay on a game can help you understand its importance. Someone’s nerdy, graph-filled video on a game’s design can help you design your own game.

But there is, ultimately, a hierarchy of sorts there. There’s a person who makes the thing. And then there’s a person who makes a thing about the thing. The second person can’t exist without the first person’s thing. Does this make sense?! I hope so. I’ve said the word “thing” a lot.

I guess what I’m trying to say is… in releasing MOM, I came to realise that I have some hang-ups about my work only ever being referential to other people’s work. There was always something slightly parasitical about it. And I can’t spend my entire career just talking about the stuff other people make. I want to make things too!

And I didn’t even know I had these feelings.

Now, this doesn’t mean I’m quitting making videos about other people’s games! I don’t think GMTK would survive if it was purely about magnets. And besides, I still love making those videos. I still love deconstructing games, talking about design, and so on.

But it simply can’t be everything I do. I’ve stepped into a whole new universe - and now I can never go back.

A new job title

For most people, their job title is decided by their boss. It’s on their business card or email signature. But when you’re self-employed, you actually just have to make it up for yourself.

Now when I fill out government forms and such, I just put company director, as that’s the most accurate in a legal sense. But when I introduce myself to new people - perhaps at a party or to a new hairdresser - I can say whatever I want.

For the last five or so years, I have always said, "I’m a YouTuber". Which, as it turns out, is a pretty crowd-pleasing answer! Everyone has heard of YouTube. Almost everyone watches YouTube. And people have plenty of questions about the job. Almost no one understands how you can make money doing YouTube. (I wonder if they think Google just takes all the ad money for themselves?)

But as I was finishing up Mind Over Magnet, I started to think… how might I introduce my job going forward? Should I still say "I’m a YouTuber"? Or should I start saying… "I'm a game designer"?

That might feel a little strange. I’ve only made one game. And besides, most of the human population has never heard of it. That could make for an awkward conversation!

And besides, there’s always been more to my job than just YouTube. I also run the GMTK Game Jam. I do talks and lectures. I’ve done consulting work. I made Platformer Toolkit. But in the grand scheme of things, these are offshoots from the YouTube channel. YouTube is the tree trunk, and everything else is a branch. So maybe Mind Over Magnet is just another branch?

But if we take this metaphor any further, these branches are going to get pretty heavy, and this tree might just topple over under its own weight! (In retrospect, I could have used a more timely metaphor, like hanging heavy baubles off a Christmas tree.)

Here’s the thing, though: I’ve gotten so used to thinking of YouTube as being the centre of everything I do. In some ways, as being the centre of everything I am.

But that’s actually not been super healthy. Mainly because it caused no end of anxiety and stress while making the game. Whenever I worked on Mind Over Magnet, I felt like I was “letting down” the YouTube channel, and that I needed to get back to it, pronto.

But… why? That would only be true if my job was to make videos about games—and therefore, anything else I did was a distraction, a side quest. But perhaps my job should actually be: to make interesting things in the world of games.

And so sometimes that’s a YouTube video. But sometimes that’s a live stream. Sometimes that’s a game jam. And sometimes that’s a whole dang video game! I just want to follow my interests and curiosity.

And to do that, I need to rethink this crazy tree metaphor. Maybe YouTube isn’t the trunk - maybe it’s actually just another branch on the tree. Maybe the whole thing is not a tree at all. Perhaps, to use an actual Christmas metaphor this time, it’s a wreath: each thing as important as any other item.

Now I just need to figure out how I’ll describe my job when meeting new people. Drawing a diagram seems a bit excessive.

A new passion

When I finished Mind Over Magnet, I genuinely believed that I might never make another game. The process was so hard, so all-consuming, and so lengthy that I felt MOM might be it.

But then we held the GMTK Game Jam for patrons, and I remembered that I had promised to make a game for it. So, I put together a quick prototype - mainly just to fulfil that obligation.

And it was… really fun to make it. And people actually really enjoyed the prototype! And so… I’ve started working on the next game.

It’s a word game with crazy modifiers and synergistic score-building strategies, inspired by Scrabble and Balatro. And now I can’t stop working on it. I can’t wait for you to play it in 2025. But I’ll talk more about it in the new year.

Conclusion

Here’s the thing: When I was coming to the end of Mind Over Magnet, I had a very distinct feeling. I just needed to finish the game, and then I could "get back to normal". I could go back to my old ways. I genuinely believed that once the game was done, I would put game design away and go back to just being a YouTuber like I always was.

But then the game came out, and everything changed. "Normal" now seems impossible to get back to.

And, in truth, I don’t want to get back to it. I don't want to just be a YouTuber. I don't want to just make content about other people's work. I don't want to feel like I must always be making YouTube videos, and that anything else is simply a distraction.

I want to follow my passion, my curiosity, and my intrigue. And I want to share the experience with all of you. I don't want to define my career by a specific type of content. Or, even worse, a specific website. I want to define it by a motto: to make interesting things in the world of games, and share them with the world. I am not just a YouTuber. I'm a YouTuber and a game designer and a consultant and a lecturer and a game jam host and anything else I want to be.

The first 10 years of GMTK have been incredible. I’ve enjoyed almost every day of my work, and I’m so proud of what I’ve done. But the next 10 years will be different. I just don’t know how, exactly - I’ve literally just figured out a lot of this stuff while writing these words.

So, 2025 will be a year of soul-searching and exploration. I’m not setting myself any goals - I just want to figure things out and decide who I am.

2024 was the year that changed everything. Let’s see where that goes.