Games do have a lot in common with candy. As kids, we find candy so amazing. As adults, we're honestly better off if we never eat it, but of course we probably do, here and there.

So... games are an artform, but they're different from other artforms in that they tend to ask for a lot of time and energy.

A great novel promises that by the end we will feel... expanded, wiser, more attuned.

A great game can do the same. But games in general ask for a lot up front and don't give that much back.

My perception.

As a person trying to make a game that asks for not much up front, but leaves you with a lot, I feel... insecurity. Can I manage that at all?

Also, I barely ever play games. If I weren't a person trying to make a game, I would have moved on from games long ago and wouldn't have much if any time for them.

I sort of push myself to play things here and there as if to do so were vitamins, which it kind of can be.

I still do believe in the form. But most games, when they load up, overwhelm with buttons and stats and flavor text and splashy, not particularly refined or noteworthy images.

If I had all the time in the world - or were a kid, feeling that way - I'd relax, or excitedly settle in and absorb what I see. I'd let the spices imbue me and time bake the pie of another world.

But I feel restless. Just loaded up this game advertised on Facebook, Hero Wars. Immediately I want nothing more to do with it. No time or energy or enthusiasm for this. Too much stuff, too little reason to care.

Maybe that's enough. Maybe it's enough to see this and say "Ah, I consider this and this and this a mistake. These are things I do not care about. This game is coming on too strong with points and metrics and cheesy, albeit vivid, drawings. It assumes I want to stay 10 hours at least, and I don't even want to give it 10 minutes. That is not necessary. I can do better. A gentler introduction and less presumption can work magic."