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One year ago, I launched my first game. It was a very stressful launch. The day before, I had discovered that the game couldn’t run on Windows machines beyond the title screen, which came as a surprise because people had playtested it on Windows without any problems. I borrowed my uncle’s Windows laptop and stayed up until 4am analysing debug logs, searching through help forums, building and rebuilding the game. It was only at 2pm on launch day when I found out what the problem was. A stupid Steam configuration error.
As messy as the launch was, it highlights perfectly what kind of project this was. At the beginning of my journey, I barely even knew how to code in the language I was supposed to use for the entire game. This game was being built on the foundation of YouTube tutorials and willpower. But if I’m being honest, the hardest part of making it wasn’t any of the technical barriers, but the mental ones.
You see, if you were to ask 10-year-old me what I wanted to be in the future, I would have said a game developer. This was a childhood dream I was fulfilling, which meant there was a huge expectation for me to live up to. This game wasn’t simply something I was creating, it was a representation of my dreams, hopes and desires. If this game ended up being anything less than amazing, I would risk disappointing that younger part of me that wanted this.
Taxis
Taxis was the only character whose story I was sure of from the start. A ghost stuck between the future he’s always imagined for himself and the one he doesn’t dare to want. It’s a scary thing to want, because it sets you up for the chance of disappointment. But the universe knew what Taxis needed, which is why it didn’t let him free until he realised his “unfinished business”.
As the game slowly came into existence, I found myself avoiding talking about it. When I stopped to think about why I did this, I realised it was because I was scared that people wouldn’t like it. Little Ghosthunter was so personal to me it almost felt like an extension of me. Because of this, criticism about the game felt like criticism about myself. I wanted to keep the game to myself, to stay in my little bubble where everything was perfect and it was just me and the game.
But you can’t make a game without letting other people see it. The whole point is for others to experience it. That’s actually the main reason why I wanted to do it in the first place. In the end, sharing my creation turned out to be a lot less scary than I thought. In fact, hearing the thoughtful comments people had to say about it motivated me a lot to keep working on it.
Now, my favourite part of having made a game is the pieces of feedback I get from players about how they enjoyed it, or how it affected them. When making a story-based puzzle game, you don’t really get to enjoy playing it, because it’s not very fun if you’re the one who made it. That’s why I love hearing that people enjoyed the game. As an artist, knowing that your art has reached others and resonated with them is the greatest reward you could ask for. Just like what Love did for Taxis, sometimes all we need is a reminder of why we do the things we love.
Cyan
In the epilogue, Cyan talks about how she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do. Once a ghost has completed their business, they disappear from the living world. Yet Cyan still exists, with no instructions as to what she needs to do. Up until this point, she’s felt like she was only ever just passing time, waiting for something to happen. For the first time, she feels like taking matters into her own hands and doing something she likes to do. I think of life in the same way Cyan thinks of death. You may not have a defined goal, but it feels good to follow what you want. It really is just whatever you want to do. Making this game was me fulfilling that.
Love
Little Ghosthunter is my love letter to the world. From Taxis rediscovering his passion for music, to Cyan realising just how much her brothers love her, to Butter finally finding a friend to have a sleepover with, to Love’s joy and wonder about each and every thing. This game is full of everything I love about the world, and my hope is that it helps others feel that beauty too.
Making this game was crazy, and I’m so glad I had the opportunity to do so. I’m also really grateful for my players, testers, collaborators, and everyone who supported me during it. Is it perfect? Of course not. But I did make a video game, and I think that’s kinda cool.
Side note: Little Ghosthunter will be on sale 28 Oct – 4 Nov during Steam Scream Fest 2025, so if you haven’t gotten it or want to buy it for a friend, then would be the time!
Beautiful…
Here’s to the beginning of many future updates and releases! Keep it up!