Inside this project
Building a Dream World, One Level at a Time
Teddy and Bo began as my first major game development project—a solo endeavor that would span three years of my life. This 3D platformer was designed to capture the whimsy and imagination of childhood dreams, set in vibrant worlds where everyday objects became epic obstacles and common childhood fears transformed into playful challenges.
Working independently meant I wore every hat: designer, developer, 3D artist, level designer, and playtester. While I collaborated with others for sound effects and some art assets, the core design, development, and execution were entirely my own.
The game was approved for PlayStation 4 release, granting me access to exclusive developer tools and the platform. However, as the project grew in ambition and complexity, I ultimately had to make the difficult decision to move on—but not before learning invaluable lessons about game design, scope management, and the realities of solo development.
Capturing the Essence of Childhood Wonder
As a first-time solo game developer, I faced a fundamental question: How do I create a game that resonates deeply with players while being realistic enough to complete independently?
I chose to build a 3D platformer—my favorite genre to play, and one with relatively straightforward mechanics. The game would be set inside a child's dream, exploring universal themes of imagination, wonder, and the unique perspectives of childhood.
Each level brings these nostalgic childhood fantasies to life: jumping across oversized furniture while avoiding floors of lava, sneaking through school hallways to escape hall monitors and cootie zombies, and engaging in epic showdowns with pirates and cowboys. The goal was to tap into that playful spirit we all remember—where everyday spaces transformed into extraordinary adventures through the lens of imagination.
How do I design levels and mechanics that feel universally relatable to players who grew up with different childhood experiences?
Surveying Collective Childhood Memories
I couldn't rely solely on my own imagination and experiences if I wanted to connect with a broad player base. To design levels that would resonate universally, I needed to understand what themes were common across different childhoods.
I posted an online survey asking people to share common themes from their childhood dreams and imaginations. The responses were fascinating—some translated directly into gameplay mechanics, while others required creative interpretation.
Key Insights from Research
Waking Up at School
Classic anxiety dream easily translated into a stealth-based school level
Loss of Sight
Many reported nightmares about not being able to see clearly
Feeling Small
Children feeling the world was designed for and run by larger adults
The Bedroom Level
The "feeling small" insight spawned my favorite level—waking up in a bedroom to discover you're the size of a small action figure. Players navigate across furniture, avoiding giant toys and everyday objects that become massive obstacles. This opened up incredible opportunities for creative level design and turned a simple childhood feeling into an entire gameplay experience.
Gameplay from the level inspired by the survey’s “feeling small” theme.
From Concept to Playable World
Each level followed an iterative design process—starting with core mechanics and gradually layering in visual details, atmosphere, and polish. The goal was always to create worlds that felt authentic and lived-in, not just obstacle courses.
Concept & Vision
Started each level with a clear image of the player's objective and main course
Basic Mock-Up
Created simple geometry and 3D meshes without complex lighting or effects
Core Mechanics Testing
Tested core obstacle and platforming mechanics before adding details
World Building
Added assets, enemies, lighting, and details to create "lived-in" believable worlds
Evolution: Basic Mock-Up to Polished Level
Design Philosophy: I tried my best to ensure each level felt like a believably "lived in" world. For example, blocks in the bedroom level aren't all perfectly aligned—there are pieces of drawing paper scattered on the floor, toys left out, and little details that suggest a child actually plays in this space. These touches transformed levels from abstract platforming challenges into immersive environments.
A demonstration of game features.
Playtesting is Absolutely Critical
For a platforming game, the player's movement and jumping are the main focus of most gameplay mechanics—so it's crucial to nail that down early on. If moving around and jumping over obstacles wasn't smooth, responsive, and fun, the rest of the game wouldn't be worth playing.
This became my first subject of playtesting, and I continued leveraging playtesting throughout the entire development process. Different types of testers brought different value—from finding game-breaking bugs to understanding what resonated emotionally with players.
Movement is Everything
Spent extensive time fine-tuning player speed, jump height, and gravity — Smooth, responsive movement that felt fun before adding any levels
Friend Playtesting
Had friends test simple demo scenes focused purely on movement mechanics — Iterative feedback loop until movement was polished enough to proceed
Speedrunners & YouTubers
Engaged speedrunners and content creators to find bugs and test levels — Found exploits and issues that regular testers would never discover
Social Media Analytics
Tracked Twitter engagement and read every comment to gauge resonance — Understood what features excited players and grew community presence
The Power of Speedrunners
Speedrunners proved invaluable—they're experts at finding bugs and exploits because they have experience breaking games to improve their records. Their feedback helped me identify issues that would have taken months to discover organically. Plus, their content helped grow my social media presence, creating a virtuous cycle of feedback and community building.
Screenshots
What I Learned from Three Years of Growth
I never got the chance to finish and release this game, but I don't feel like I wasted any time working on it. As an independent project, I was exposed to practically every aspect of game development—from concept to execution, from art to code, from level design to community management.
The lessons I learned here have shaped how I approach every project since. I grew tremendously as a designer, developer, and as a person capable of self-directed learning and honest self-assessment.
If I Could Go Back…
I would definitely make sure to keep the scope small enough to handle independently. I never completed this project because I underestimated how complex 3D games are compared to 2D, and I was unable to limit the scope— whenever I thought of a new mechanic, I wanted to include it.
Now I understand the critical importance of having a properly fleshed-out design document early on and doing my best to stick with it. Feature creep is real, and managing it requires discipline I didn't have at the start of this journey.
I could probably talk forever about these three years of my life.
I honestly loved every moment of them and grew tremendously as a developer, designer, and person. This project taught me that I can learn any new skill necessary and that honest self-awareness is the foundation of growth. Those lessons have been invaluable in every project since.