Networking through Game Dev with Social Anxiety
I used to get really anxious around social events: feeling an overwhelming amount of pressure when I see someone new then freezing mid-chat not knowing how to keep the conversation going. I remember how debilitating it felt to go all the way to a networking event only to leave with a bad impression. It felt awful to be the only one who’s clearly lost in a group conversation, not knowing how to make any input.
I wanted to write a little bit of a reflection on this, because it’s something that a lot of people experience. Networking is just unavoidable in the indie game dev space. The journey to finish a game is long and daunting, and I’ve been monumentally grateful for all the friends I’ve made along the way. There’s just so much involved with funding or selling a game, it really helps to have a network of peers you can ask quick questions to.
Quick Disclaimers
I’ve had to grapple with social anxiety, but it’s been mild enough that I could process it mostly on my own (I picked up a few things from cognitive behavioral therapy, and pieced the rest together). This blog post will not fix everything, but will hopefully give you the tools to help you recognize your own negative thought patterns. The rest of the work will take time.
Networking is stinky, but it doesn’t have to be
Networking is not easy. Back when I was a student, it felt like no one was interested in talking to me. I would meet someone, end up freezing in panic, and spiral as I wonder what question to ask next. I tried to figure out how to present myself as someone who’s smart, eager to learn, and hireable. But with such little context of the industry, every question I thought of just sounded dumb to me.
Things got a little bit better when I started working. I was more of an adult, having navigated life in corporate for a few years. But I wasn’t in games, I was working on small projects part-time. In a networking sense, I still felt like I had little to offer in that relationship.
So at some point, I stopped networking.
I treated it more like an opportunity to meet and learn from other creatives — trying to form some kind of meaningful relationship. This happened to coincide with when I gave up trying to land a corporate games job and stumbled upon the world of indie dev. The scene is filled with talented folks with strong perspectives from different backgrounds. Things felt very scrappy, and the pressure to constantly build an image lessened. Suddenly, there was more room to share processes and talk about a variety of topics while still maintaining an air of vulnerability.
Quick Story-time!
I remember meeting Olivia Haines, the indie dev who’s making Surf Club, while chatting with a mutual friend at a games event. She was working on Knuckle Sandwich at the time, and I was so excited, having backed the game on Kickstarter and followed her work on Twitter for a while. At that time, I was working on my narrative game, and was curious how she approached writing in Surf Club without a professional background as a writer.
The creative process she described felt so simple, so intuitive. I thought I had been missing something big, like a skill gap, that’s preventing me from executing on my ideas. I struggled with my game for so long, not knowing where to begin. But something was planted in my brain that day. It was a small moment that really stuck with me, but I felt like I really learned a lot from Olivia.
It was also a turning point for my self-confidence. I was finally asking the right questions. They were simple, but based on a personal struggle I had in my process.
And here’s the funny conclusion to that story: I was kinda stalling, keeping her engaged in artistic introspection while her friends went and got slices of cakes for her birthday (it tasted pretty good).
And yes, you should absolutely go wishlist Surf Club on Steam, if you haven’t.
Looking back, it’s pretty clear that I just hadn’t come to understand my creative instincts yet. I had no clue how to start because I had no idea what progress looked like. Meeting Olivia didn’t magically unlock this. It was a culmination of little things, which was partly fueled by reading Writing for Games (it equipped me with a framework to guide my process and helped me develop better introspection skills). Meeting other creatives then helped me build a better picture of where I’m at and how I should be moving forward.
All of this is to say that networking can be different. It stopped feeling like a transaction, and more like a chat between friends thriving against the messiness that is game development. At some point it felt like I didn’t need to impress everyone I met, I could just be myself.
What does ‘successful’ networking look like?
I remember hearing about the importance of networking and building a connection that lasts — stories about a chance encounter that could land you your first internship and kickstart your career. But in reality, that’s not necessarily what ‘successful’ networking looks like. I’ve been to many industry networking events, met lots of folks, yet have never managed to get hired for a full-time job in games.
I can’t exactly define your success metric, but I can tell you what isn’t networking. It isn’t based on the amount of business cards you trade. It isn’t about the number of LinkedIn/Twitter connections you made. (Social media is useful for a mix of networking, marketing, and passively following the progress of your peers, but the value of the connection is bound to the whims of the algorithm). On the other hand, it’s also unrealistic to expect to form a solid relationship from one networking event.
It takes time to get to know someone. This gets difficult as you end up meeting a lot of people at networking events. You end up forgetting some people and some of those people end up forgetting about you. You can’t make a lasting impression with everyone. And that’s okay. A lot of the friends I’ve made were from repeated encounters at subsequent events.
I became more familiar with the funding and creative struggles in the indie scene, and was able to navigate conversations better over time. After making some friends, it became easier to meet new people through mutual friends.
But to answer the original question, I actively try to avoid setting success metrics for networking. I can never truly tell what people think of me, and it makes me end up spiralling. Why did this person not follow me back? Is it because of the dead air I caused? Why did they leave my DM on read? Is it because I said something wrong? Or is it because they just simply haven’t checked Twitter?
Getting to the Anxiety part
If you’ve done cognitive behavioural therapy before, you might’ve noticed a pattern here. It’s very easy for me to end up asking questions I’ll never find the answers for. It leads me to question my self-worth, somehow coming to the conclusion that the conversation went ‘poorly’ because of my lacking capabilities. It can be helpful to be self-critical, but introspection should not always lead one to feel bad about themselves after.
So, I want to spend the next section of this blog post talking about things I found helpful.
Maybe it’s not you, it’s your constitution
There’s a lot of factors that makes me more prone to self-deprecating thought patterns — the main thing being my physical well-being. Traveling anywhere already puts some amount of stress on my body, often leaving me with some ambient tension headache. At events, I’d then find myself in a flight-or-fight mode, forgetting to drink water or grab some food, and feeling a bit light-headed from low blood sugar. This gets worse in a venue that’s not well-ventilated, as I find myself taking breaks to breathe in some fresh air.
It’s okay to spend some time to recharge — maybe it’s grabbing a meal with a trusted friend or eating alone. It’s helpful to practice habits that help you relax — maybe it’s stretching with some friends (very useful if you spend a lot of time showcasing a game at a booth), maybe it’s finding a comfortable spot to sit, scroll on your phone, treat yourself to something nice, and just breathe for a bit.
Maybe it’s not you, it’s your expectations
Another aspect that really helped me is setting more realistic expectations. Your limited time is split between lots of folks at events; you won’t get to connect and be fully understood as a dev from every small interaction. Some interactions will never dance around the topic of games, and they won’t even know what you do in games. And that’s okay. Start with some small conversations, and things will start coming together once you’re friends with some folks and they start introducing you to others.
Maybe it’s not you, it’s the others
Some people are more equipped to drive the conversation. Some folks will notice that you’re struggling to understand the context and help switch topics to find a middle-ground where you can meaningfully interact with. Others will ask follow-up questions to help you clarify your point and help expand on your input. There will also be folks who simply do not remember what it was like to be newer in the industry, or are just too tired to notice your predicament.
Maybe it’s not you, it’s the venue
The space also matters a lot. There’s a lot of networking events that takes place entirely within a loud and crowded room, where you really have to shout and project to be heard (it took me quite a bit of time to notice signs when people do not understand me and are just nodding politely). When alcohol is involved, it’s a whole different ballgame. I tend to prioritize open areas (with ample oxygen) to get to know people, and adjust my expectations as we go later into the night (and folks start drinking).
Maybe it’s not you, it’s the event
Some events are also just better than others. Back when I was making games part-time, I felt like I had no business prospects to offer (no game to be signed, no collaborators I’m looking for, no business relationships to help connect others, not a lot of game dev expertise to share). I wasn’t someone in the industry, and it felt easy for people to just brush me off. I was just some guy looking in from the outside. So when people gave me the time and space, I really valued it.
An event like A MAZE puts less focus on the business of games and really makes space for the creative drive behind games. There are many talks that have no prescribed take-aways — just a depiction of their experience that leaves room for the audience to reflect and find what really resonated with them. There are games that are really out there, with weird, experimental mechanics and unconventional art-styles. People understand what it’s like to go against the established patterns in commercial games, but there’s also a general understanding for those unable to the same risks. A lot of the people attending the event are just there to hang out with friends, and it just felt easy to connect with folks through experiences outside of games.
This is not saying that you have to attend A MAZE (you should, but it doesn’t economically make sense for everyone). But consider that networking may feel harder in certain spaces, depending on whom the event is catering towards.
Maybe it’s you, but that’s okay
I’ve had many awkward encounters, and at some point I just learned to feel more okay with it. Once, I wanted to meet with someone from the industry whom I’ve been following online for a while. We happen to have a few mutual friends, and were both going to the same event. I was excited to meet them but also generally terrified. I saw them from afar, but thought that I could do a quick lap around the venue to chat up a friend as a warm-up. I didn’t see anyone I knew and was back where I started. I wanted to act natural while I built up the courage, so I got my phone out and pretended like I had something to tend to. I still felt like I needed more time, so I did another lap. Stopped to look at my phone. Did the lap in reverse. Stopped mid-way to look at my phone. And that kept repeating. And repeating. And repeating…
Eventually, I mustered the courage to say hi and they never mentioned my hovering or my hesitation despite definitely having seen me in the corner of their eye. And a year later, we’re now friends. Conversations always start out awkward until you both find a pacing that works. People who are nice will understand your trepidation and won’t let that define you as a person.
Getting more comfortable at the social part
At the start of this blog, I wrote that I find my social anxiety to be rather mild, and that’s because it doesn’t persist across all social situations. I imagine it’s because I tend to spiral more when the social context feels tied to my career trajectory. So to close out this blog, I wanted to write a little bit of a reflection on what my journey with my social skills has looked like.
I like to think that I’m a pretty funny person (I think you need to be at least a little bit funny IRL to make a funny game). I have a set of go-to jokes that I’ve shamelessly stolen online. I have a “yes and” sensibility that’s ready to improv any bit that someone else started. As the conversation progresses, I’m always looking for an opportunity for a throwback to a joke that happened earlier in the conversation. My instincts is built from the media I consume, from podcasts (Sibling Watchery) to online talk-back shows (Pit Stop) to anything and everything on Dropout.
I will keep shilling for Dropout until I get on any of their shows.
Don’t know what to say in a conversation? Simply steal topic starters from others who are more socially adept than you (that’s what I’ve been doing). I always start with asking about how the event is going for them (any cool games/talks they’ve seen). Maybe ask about a recent game they’ve been playing or a different media they’ve consumed.
Another aspect of social growth comes from practicing empathy and active listening. Game development is quite literally a traumatic experience. The work comes with a suite of complicated emotions, and it’s helpful to really know how to listen. That doesn’t mean you should be therapizing others, but it helps to know how to navigate complicated topics.
If nothing else works, maybe try internalizing the idea that you’re simply better than anyone else. That way, you won’t have to feel bad about being awkward anymore. If you’re better than everyone else, then there’s simply no reason to feel embarrassed. (Don’t know how useful this tip actually is lol)
Okay, this has been a long blog post
And that’s because it’s something that took me a minute to really spell out. I started game dev 9 years ago in undergrad, and am finally feeling like I’ve found my groove at games events (partly because I’ve come to understand my anxieties better, partly because I announced a whole ass game at Summer Games Fest). I’ve had many thoughts throughout my journey and it took a lot of introspection to fully understand my progress.
There’s a lot of tips, talks, and discussions about networking in general, but I really wanted to highlight my experience with my social anxiety here. Nothing I wrote is universal, but I hope that you can find value in my personal reflections. Hopefully, you found something helpful here.
Also please wishlist Building Relationships on Steam if you made it all this way.
