Nozomu School Daze Demo · published
As promised on Twitter in this post, here is the list of Cass's gutsy, hasty PR moves that made her face explode with embarrassment, but actually turned out okay in the end!
Enjoy! And try to learn something from her dumb butt.
To most indie developers, “marketing” is a curse word.
Everyone agrees that it’s a necessary evil: to have players, you must tell the world about your game.
Seems simple on paper, but mistakes are made, and boy howdy, did I make some monster marketing mistakes at our Steam page launch!
Buckle up, gents, it’s a wild ride.
Maroon Ink Studio is a 4-person, worldwide team developing Nozomu School Daze, a visual novel.
We’d struggled with the financial details of our Steam page because we wanted to avoid screwing up international taxes, and finally settled on a partnership business model.
Mari (background artist) opened the account for us, submitting her brand-spankin’ new business bank account details on May 26th.
YASSSS QUEEN LET’S GOOOO
As the marketing manager and the only non-artist, I (Cass) was psyched to work on our Steam page.
We were first able to access our dashboard on June 2nd.
But then I made Mistake #1: “Hey, what if we had our Steam page ready by June 5th for #pitchyagame?”
Face? Meet Palm.
#pitchyagame is an annual event on Twitter that gives tons of exposure to indie games.
We didn’t budget time for a review, so I busted Cero’s (sprite artist) butt to make the dozens of capsule art pieces Steam requires… in 3 hours.
Oops.
As stated above, we didn’t budget time for Steam to review our page, which takes 3-5 business days. First-time developer mistake, anyone?
Idiotically, I’d already posted countdown graphics on Twitter, so time was ticking.
On June 4th, one day before #pitchyagame, I jokingly lamented on an indie game Discord server that our page would not be reviewed in time for the event.
That’s too bad, they said, and then someone linked me to Steam’s support tickets.
(Side note: The Steam support team, btw, are SOLID GOLD.)
Naturally, I sent a long, blathering message begging for an expedited review at 6 pm EST, after work hours.
My mistake became their emergency.
Another Discord user from that same server said, “Email Gaben. He might pull a Deus ex Machina [and review your page].”
I said, “I will email Gaben! Who is Gaben?”
“Gaben, the CEO of Steam.”
Great! I googled “CEO of Steam Gaben email address,” and lo and behold, the first result was the famously accessible email address of Mr Gabe Newell.
So, in a giddy panic, I emailed the CEO of heckin’ Valve and mistyped his name as “Gaben.”
Face? Meet Palm, the sequel.
The Discord server was supportive of my ensuing meltdown, in which I had mistyped his name as the MEME version, not his actual name, Gabe N.
I was told twice that if he replied and I posted it on Twitter, we’d go viral, but no such luck – understandably so; the man’s busy!
When I showed the email I’d sent to “Gaben” to Maroon Ink Studio, they were appropriately horrified.
I also showed it to my husband, alternately laughing about how badly I’d embarrassed myself online and whining about embarrassing myself and the team.
Cass: I am so embarrassed that I addressed the CEO of Valve as his meme name.
Also Cass: I should post this on Twitter.
Mr Cass: I would think about that first.
Cass: I'm gonna do it.
Mr Cass: You might want to think about that.
Cass: Why, what do you think about it?
Mr Cass: Do you know how many games Steam gets? Escalating to the CEO asking for special treatment is not a good look.
I then received a message from the Steam support team (who are Midas-touched) at 8:07 pm, saying that our page was in the review cycle and they’d review it “as soon as possible,” which I interpreted as a kind but firm “no.”
After calming down enough to sleep, I woke up at 8 am to disappointment.
Our Steam page had not been reviewed.
Heartbreak. Anguish. Despair.
Quietly devastated, I chugged my diet Dr Pepper (breakfast of champions) and got to work.
I posted the backup post I’d written for Twitter just in case: our first trailer reveal!
The trailer received a positive response, yay!
I also asked people to subscribe to our newsletter for an early look at this post, and some did (thank you <3)!
Double yay!
To ensure the trailer's algorithmic visibility, I posted to several #pitchyagame posts and then went wild with replies, expressing genuine appreciation for other indie games that caught my eye.
So, thinking I’d done all I could do for Twitter that day, I schlepped to Costco.
I bet you can guess what happened next:
BOOM. STEAM REVIEWED THE PAGE.
Cue panic by the industrial-sized rolls of toilet paper.
“Should I post the Steam page on Twitter? I’ve already blown my shot with #pitchyagame with the trailer! But if I don’t post this, we’ll lose momentum!”
Also running through my head was the fact that I couldn’t post anything at the store - my cruddy phone couldn't download the trailer.
So I drove home from Costco as if the hounds of hell were nibbling at my tires and bolted upstairs to my laptop.
I had 10 minutes before I needed to head to lunch with my husband at his workplace.
Not thinking, I dashed off the following post, which I then had to reply with the Steam page link, and then follow up with a reply to the trailer I’d forgotten to add in my panic:
Without an image, I thought, this post is dead.
Thinking the post wasn’t good enough, I deleted the reply post, rewrote it, and posted it again with very similar wording.
Then I was concerned we were going to get shadow-banned by Twitter (which I’m still not convinced didn’t happen).
By that point, I was late to my lunch with my husband, I had spilled soda on my new Avatar: The Last Airbender shirt, and I was repeating a newly adopted mantra:
“Don't make this lunch about the game. Don't make this lunch about the game. Don't make this lunch about the game!”
Naturally, I made that lunch about the game.
After chugging yet another diet Dr Pepper (shut up, I know), I rapid-fire torpedoed my husband with updates.
I explained my multiple attempts at damage control for my team for…
The damage that I had single-handedly caused. Hm.
(Staining a new shirt in style.)
Checking the Discord server where I met the rest of Maroon Ink Studio, I posted our Steam wishlist post and was met with cheerful emojis…
And feedback that hit like a brick to the jaw.
My daily habit of reposting indie game posts on Twitter was spamming people.
I instantly recognized the feedback as true and useful, so I promised I'd recalibrate my Twitter habits and not post so much…
Even while I'd spammed Twitter with 6 that morning.
Face? Meet Palm, the trilogy.
Fortunately, I was still at lunch with Mr. Cass, who explained to me with all the patience of Mother Teresa with her leg in a bear trap that:
I had never done marketing before,
I was still learning,
and that's okay.
Yeah. Yeah, okay. He was right.
We started Nozomu School Daze to learn how to make a game.
Our team has made a game via experimentation.
And even as scattered-brained as I am, I was learning a lot.
But the S.S. Mistake plunged full-steam ahead toward the iceberg threatening to sink it.
After returning home, I secluded myself in my woman-cave (no she-sheds here).
Then I realized with horror that I’d neglected our newsletter! Oh, no!
I’d been so focused on Twitter that I hadn’t posted anything about our launch to our lovely subscribers.
I dove into the newsletter, pasting our key art and screenshots in their appropriate places and hitting “Save & Send,” without noticing…
I had spelled the title, the cheesin’ name of our game, wrong.
Autocorrect had changed Nozomu School Daze (affectionate) to Nozomu School Days (derogatory).
And I didn’t notice.
Are you kidding me, Cass.
No, self-deprecating inner voice, I am not.
At that point, my team was begging me to take a break to salvage what little dignity I had left.
So, naturally, I sat down to write this 1500-word post.
Face? Meet Palm, the live-action remake.
All of my mistakes can be summed up by Abe Lincoln’s ghost:
“Give me six hours to chop down a tree, and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.”
No forethought. No planning. No stopping to breathe.
Learn from my comedy of errors.
Begin with forethought. Plan. And for the love of Abraham Lincoln, breathe.
And maybe don’t drink Dr Pepper for breakfast.
-Cass
(Thank you, team members, for not dropping me as your social media manager and writer.
Thank you, Steam staff support! I’d send you chocolates if I could.
And thank you to anyone who reads this ridiculous wall of text. <3)