Perspective Is Everything: How One Brutally Honest Critique Made Me a Better Developer

We all say we want honest feedback. Until we get it.

Recently, I had one of the most direct, unfiltered, no-punches-pulled conversations about SAK’D with a colleague (we’ll call him “Joe” for this post). It wasn’t the kind of critique that comes with careful wrapping or polite suggestion — it was raw, uncomfortable… and, as I’ve now come to realize, incredibly important.

At first, I won’t lie — it stung.

Joe told me that SAK’D, to him, felt like it lacked heart. That it seemed “aggressively mediocre.” That the tone was confusing. That Sak — our hero, our magic-infused pillow protagonist — lacked context or connection. He said he didn’t get what the game was trying to be. To him, it felt like something he’d find in a mobile store, something meant to keep kids busy for 20 minutes.

Yeah. Ouch.

But then I took a breath… and I listened.

As developers — especially indie devs — we pour ourselves into our work. SAK’D is a passion project born out of a previous, more ambitious RPG vision that collapsed when the pandemic hit and our team of 26 volunteers scattered to take care of families and life. What was left was a small core team, a dream, and the main character: Sak.

So we pivoted.

We built a new game — 2D, hand-drawn, whimsical, faster-paced. Less heavy lore, more magic and monsters and humor. Still Sak, still heart, just… different.

But in my heart, I think I was still holding on to the original version. The big story. The intricate lore. The 450-page design doc. I was still talking about SAK’D like it was that same sprawling RPG when what we were really building now was something more agile — an indie action platformer with some RPG elements, yes, but also wit, irreverence, charm. A game that should be fast to grasp and fun to play.

Joe’s critique wasn’t just about the game — it was a mirror. And what I saw reflected was a disconnect between what we were building and how I was presenting it.

And so I did what any exhausted but stubborn creator would do after 98-hour weeks, game expos with 17 wishlists to show for it, and years of pouring time, love, and life into a game.

I listened harder.

I let the critique sit.

Then, I made the choice not to see it as a defeat, but as an opportunity.

Joe wasn’t being cruel. He was offering an outside view — a viewpoint without all my context, lore, and emotional investment. The same kind of viewpoint many potential players would have. And that’s exactly the perspective I needed.

It helped me realize something important: I know Sak. I love Sak. I know where he came from. I know the whole world behind him. But if I don’t give my audience an immediate reason to care — in the first 10 seconds of a trailer, or the first minute of gameplay — then none of that matters.

And the truth is, that’s on me.

So here’s what I’m taking away:

Yes, this is my passion project.
Yes, I have a vision.
Yes, I want to tell big stories.

But I also want people to actually play the game. To laugh. To care. To feel the magic I feel. And that means making things clearer. Sharper. Simpler. Fun.

Maybe it means a new trailer that introduces Sak’s origin in 5 seconds or less. Maybe it means rewriting the game’s backstory on Steam to match the tone and clarity of what we’re really building today. Maybe it means showing more of those “57 hilarious death sequences” right up front.

What it definitely means is this: I’m not giving up. Not even close.

If you’re a game dev reading this and you’ve ever received feedback that hit a little too hard — I see you.

This industry is relentless. It’s subjective. Competitive. Expensive. Emotionally taxing. And when you hear someone say they just didn’t “get” your game — or worse, that it was forgettable — it can feel like someone just stomped on your heart with muddy boots.

But I want to encourage you to look closer.

Sometimes, the most painful feedback is also the most valuable. Not because it’s “right” — not all criticism is — but because it gives you perspective. A view outside your own bubble. And when you pair that with your own creative instincts, it can light a fire that moves you from stuck to inspired.

Don’t let harsh feedback derail you. Let it refine you.
Don’t throw away your game. Sharpen it.
Don’t compromise your voice. Clarify it.

SAK’D is still my baby. But now, it’s a baby with a clearer sense of direction. A tighter, sharper story. A funnier tone. A focus on being the game we’re actually making — not the game we once dreamed of making.

And if you’re out there struggling, wondering if your game is “good enough,” or if you’ll ever hit those wishlist numbers or get noticed by publishers, know this:

You are not alone.
Your work is not worthless.
Your dream still matters.

Keep going.
Take the hit.
And then get back up swinging.

Because sometimes the biggest leap forward begins with a little perspective.

— Kelly

Want to stay in the loop between blog posts, trailers, and surprise monster drops? Follow SAK’D and Alchemy Interactive across all our socials:

🐦 Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/SAKDGame
📘 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sakdgame
📸 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alchemyinteractive/
🌀 BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/sakdgame.bsky.social
💬 Discord: https://discord.gg/ctkAtX9Yjk
📺 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-vAfsZ47YxxmmCm2jRqojQ
🌐 Official Site: https://sakd.ca
🎮 Steam Page: https://store.steampowered.com/app/1493870/SAKD/
🎮 Itch.io: https://alchemyinteractive.itch.io/sakd
🔗 Linktree (for everything in one spot): https://linktr.ee/sakdgame