Footnotes #4 | Moments from MAGFest

We’re another month closer to Bundle of Joy’s March 25 release date, and in today’s Footnotes, I wanted to share some reactions from Super MAGFest - an event we attended at the back end of last month.

Seeing players interact with your game in the wild - often with no priming or existing knowledge - is perhaps one of the most valuable parts of the whole process! Not only do you learn a ton from watching players navigate your game, you also get wonderful reminders that what you’re doing means something.

In this final phase of development, the unvarnished reactions from players are the most cherished form of feedback and validation. Seeing the smiles, laughter, thoughtful reading, and somber contemplation of player reaffirmed that what I’m trying to do has a place, and thanks to everyone at MAGFest for making me feel so welcome.

Moments from MIVS

On Friday, a dad stopped by the booth to play, grinning at my “Dad-Simulator minigame romp” banner (depicted above). At first, his skepticism seemed all too clear to me, but after the first downtime (a moment of respite between the game’s mini-games) his whole demeanor shifted. He softened.

After finishing the demo he sheepishly came over for a chat. During this exchange he stood quietly, nodding, reminiscing as I spoke. I saw he was tearing up a little.

After a pause, he turned to me and said, "That's just like how I remember."

He proceeded to ask about my kids and told me about his own (who were now grown up), and we shared a couple of stories about our experiences as fellow Dads.

Before leaving, he thanked me for making the game and gave me a hug.

It was a small moment, but one that will likely stick with me for a long time; this has been at the backbone of the game’s design philosophy from the beginning: to facilitate conversation, to highlight what parents all have in common (despite any age gaps), and to offer a space for shared catharsis.

The next night, I decided to stay late at the booth, watching people play from a distance while checking out nearby games.

Around 11:15 pm, a couple sat down — one on PC, the other on Steam Deck. They played for about a day and a half in-game, then just sat there, tenderly conversing, semi-lost in thought.

When I walked over to ask what they thought, they laughed timidly. They had just started discussing their baby names (every player can name their baby). Turns out, they had recently found out they were expecting(!), but they hadn’t actually talked about names yet.

The soon-to-be dad admitted the game terrified him slightly — his partner laughed, reassuring him. As they walked away, they kept chatting, presumably deep in their newly uncorked exchange of possible names.

There were many other moments but these stuck out as being reflective of my ambitions for the game. Parenthood is this medley of feelings and emotions all tangled up together, and seeing players interact with the game in person gave me the confidence needed for this final development stretch.

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The DC Diaper Drive

During the show, for every diaper changed in-game, we promised to donate a diaper to the Greater DC Diaper Bank. In this, we raised 202 diapers as part of the drive! At market price, this came out to $72, but we rounded up to $100.

Lots of folks asked how they could contribute and make their own donations. GDCDB makes it super easy to donate, just go directly to their donation page.

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Bundle of Joy in The Guardian

As soon as I got back from MAGFest, I saw the delightful news that BoJ was featured in The Guardian (UK). Keza MacDonald - a parent herself - delves into the game and dissects some of its themes in deft, thoughtful, and personal essay.

It’s a great piece, and truly humbling to see my design intentions understood and resonating throughout the piece.

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Ok then, that’s it for now. Onwards towards launch...

Nicholas Essay Games