One of the saddest realities of life is getting older. Not that being old is bad — far from it — but that so much of society and work is calibrated around being young.

As of this writing, I’m in my mid-forties, so I’m not “old” — but I’m not young either. In my industry (indie videogames), I’m a fossil; and, unfortunately, so much in my industry is focused on age groups much younger than mine.

Nevermind the demographics that get advertised to and targeted for the games themselves; press coverage, opportunities, connections, and support all start to dry up as you age in this industry.

There are no “40 over 40” feature articles, that’s for sure. No “holy crap, they’re still doing it!” round-up features. If you’re in your mid-20s (or, sometimes, in your early 30s), and you can present or concoct a decent story or angle, you can get a lot of attention in the indie game space. (I know, because I did it too.)

But being a consistently-performing creator, a reliable professional, isn’t a story that 20-somethings want to read, so they don’t get produced. I’ve had younger participants refer to me as a “boomer” (I’m rolling my eyes just writing that, both because of how tired that label is, and how inaccurate) just because I was older, and in turn deciding in that moment to disregard anything about me.

Most younger developers and creators I talk to have this gigantic blind spot for anything not produced by people within a few years of their age group — and that includes many influencers and press. (This is problematic, as our industry is still relatively young, and there is so much juicy history.)

But like growing up and realizing you’ve become your parents, aging in the indie videogame space is proving to be a surreal wake-up call. What do you do when your experience and talent has increased, but nobody cares anymore because of your age? It’s not like I’ve “upgraded” to being a CEO of some larger studio; I’m still here, trying to honestly make good art independently.

Sadly, my ability to connect with others online (through social media, especially) is also withering, and it makes every promotional push we make increasingly painful. Who wants to hang out with someone old enough to be their dad?

At this point I’m too old to quit, and my fifteen minutes of industry “fame” were over a long time ago. But what choice do I have? I’m searching for that answer, hoping I can find something to make the next decade or so of my career something more than a pale shadow of the last one.

I experienced a moment of kindness that caught me off guard a few days ago. A person I respect, who is also in an important position within the local comics industry, said something matter-of-factly positive about my work. Being made to feel like I perhaps belonged at the table was, for him, a throwaway comment — but for me, it was a big deal.

Like most artists, I’m deeply insecure about my work. But compounding that is a deeply-rooted lack of self-worth — so for me, praise and acceptance can only come from another party. (If you’re thinking that would make life overly difficult, you are correct.)

It was a great motivator to keep at my comics projects. A little kindness can go a long way.

Some random guy assaulted me on the street today. Nothing serious — in fact it was quite bizarre. I suddenly heard, “If you like this bag of f%$&ing chips so much, you can have it!” and then he punched me in the chest… while holding a bag of chips.

I wasn’t really hurt, just in shock. I just kept walking, because by the time my brain figured out what was happening, it had already happened. It did leave me unsettled though; what if I’d been stabbed instead?

In any case, I think they were Lay’s Dill Pickle chips, based on the blurry green and yellow image in my head.