 Mariano Cavallero was sweaty, hungry, and exhausted. Despite struggling with intense social anxiety, he'd spent two full days talking to complete strangers, and it had worn him out. Mariano was at the EVA 2016, the Argentine video game showcase. This was his final chance. He'd burned through all of his money-making video game prototypes. In spite of the terror he felt at talking with large crowds of people, he'd done everything he could to tell everyone at the Expo about his game, a tower defense platformer called Impossible Dungeons. He'd been so stressed at the entire experience that he hadn't eaten throughout the whole Expo. If this didn't go well, he'd have no choice but to finally give up on his dreams of being a professional game developer. So there he was, collapsed on the floor, completely out of steam, when an Expo official approached him. Mariano was told that he had to follow this person immediately, and so he picked himself up and set off, away from the Expo floor, down a dark winding corridor. Was this it? Was he being kicked out of the Expo? Had Mariano failed in his final attempt at achieving his dream? Game design was not a profession that anybody had heard of when Mariano Cavallero was young. Growing up in Argentina, far from the big games industry capitals of the world, the idea of making games for a living seemed laughably foolish. But ever since his youth, Mariano had a passion for building and making things. He used to skip school so that he could spend more time making his own toys and games. His parents naturally didn't approve, and they didn't understand why Mariano wanted to throw his life away chasing this dream. Mariano's father in particular was very concerned for his son's future. But then, Mariano's dad got sick. Really sick. As he lay on his deathbed, Mariano's father told his son that he was proud of him. He encouraged Mariano to follow his dreams, telling him that if he learned to focus and work in a team, he could succeed. Mariano didn't really know what to do next. He had a little inheritance from his father, and still felt a desperate, unquenchable desire to make games. Against the advice of his family and friends, Mariano decided to do the impossible. He quit college, and using his inheritance to keep himself afloat, he dedicated himself to following his dream. Mariano had no formal game-making education. He pieced together what knowledge he could learn from YouTube, and learned everything else through trial and error. Over the next few years, he built prototype after prototype. None of these were particularly good, but with each game jam he entered, he learned a little bit more about game design. But no matter how hard he worked, Mariano couldn't get anyone to play or even look at his games. He felt like he was shouting into a void, desperately trying to get attention for the work he was creating, and constantly failing to win anybody over. Mariano's biggest project was a game called Cinca dea, a complicated platformer that involved a cute character leaping between small planets. After a year's work on this game, Mariano was feeling fairly confident about it, and he submitted it to Steam Greenlight. The game was not well received. Much of the feedback that Mariano received was very negative, and before long he felt so bad about his work that he purged the game from Steam entirely. His inheritance was all spent. His big game idea was a disaster. Mariano didn't know what to do next. His friends were all working half as many hours as he was, and they were making enough to live comfortably. Instead, Mariano had to sheepishly turn to his mother and ask for help. To her credit, while Mariano's mother didn't understand her son's passion, she was willing to support him, even financially, as he pursued his goals. But neither she nor her son could guess just what was in store for them. One day, Mariano got a visit from his cousin, and the two of them played a multiplayer platformer called Risk of Rain together. There were a lot of little things about the game, both its user interface and its gameplay, that bothered Mariano, and with his experience, he felt he could do better. Although Mariano set himself a two-week time limit, and promised his cousin that he'd make an even more enjoyable game for them to play together. The result was Impossible Dungeons, a tower defence game that was also a platformer. Mariano was pleased with this, but it was only a small demo. He didn't exactly expect it to set the world alight. Looming on the horizon was EVA, a special games expo in Buenos Aires that would bring together developers from all over Argentina. Mariano had been planning to exhibit Cinca dea, but now he was so disappointed with the game that he felt embarrassed showing it off. This expo represented his final chance at game design. If things didn't work out while he was there, he'd have no choice but to quit entirely, and try to find something else to do with his life. Mariano's cousin, aware that he needed to pick a game to exhibit, urged him to show off Impossible Dungeons. After a lot of persuading, Mariano agreed. This little prototype would make or break his career as an indie developer. Mariano did the expo as cheaply as possible. His last money in all the world paid for his bus ticket to Buenos Aires, and he stayed with his brother, who was studying at college at the time. Mariano was more than a little anxious about exhibiting his game. He suffers from social anxiety, so the idea of talking to so many people seemed terrifying. It didn't help that his confidence was at an all-time low. Mariano had been making games for years, and nobody had paid him even the slightest bit of attention. What made him think that this time would be any different? And yet, as Mariano showed off his game, to his complete surprise, everyone at the event loved it. Huge crowds formed around Impossible Dungeons, as everyone waited their turn to play it, or to watch those who were playing. Impossible Dungeons was particularly popular among children, and many parents asked Mariano if they could buy the game for their kids to play. Mariano would have felt horribly guilty if he'd made anyone pay actual money for his unfinished prototype, so he offered the game to anyone who wanted it for free instead. It seemed like the right thing to do. After two days of exhaustion and a lack of food, Mariano was slumped against a wall when an expo official approached him. Mariano was ushered through a giant wooden doorway. It was dark, and he couldn't see where he was, until he went through an enormous black curtain. He was on the main conference stage, what was he doing here? Mariano was literally shaking as he heard the news. Impossible Dungeons had been chosen by attendees as the best game in the showcase. In fact, he later learned his prototype had won by an incredible margin, receiving ten times more votes than any other game. This was unbelievable. Even stood there on stage, Mariano didn't know how to react. Surely someone had made a mistake? Take it, someone said, trying to get him to take his enormous prize check. This is yours. The prize that Mariano received was an all-expenses paid trip to a developer conference in the USA, valued at $1,000. Mariano had one final chance to show off his game to the world, but he still didn't have any actual money. Returning from EVA, Mariano was unsure of his next step. He had a chance at something great, but without any funds, the idea of actually making his dreams come true still seemed impossible. He continued work as he had been doing all along, entering a two-week game jam organized by Yo-Yo Games. This time, he created a crafting game entitled Forager. It seemed that all of his efforts at learning game design paid off, as Forager won second place in the jam. But as he prepared for his big prize trip to the USA, Mariano put Forager to one side. Impossible dungeons seemed like a better bet, and he was going to do everything he could to make it succeed. While at the Expo, and fighting his anxiety, Mariano scheduled meetings with as many publishers as he could. He needed to give himself every chance to help this game succeed, and find the funds necessary to turn it into something other than a quick prototype. Things did not go well. Right before the showcase began, Mariano's only laptop suffered a catastrophic failure. It was almost enough to sink him entirely, but thankfully fellow exhibitors came to the rescue and helped get him up and running. All of Mariano's publishing meetings were a disaster. He was struggling so much with social anxiety that he couldn't communicate what made his game so special. What had once seemed like his big break now felt like an enormous disappointment. As Mariano sat, dejected, the exhibitor at the booth next to his came to give him some encouragement. Perhaps out of pity, perhaps simply intrigued by what Mariano had made, he began playing not impossible dungeons, but Forager. And he played. And he played. In fact, he played Forager so much that he completely missed an important meeting that he'd been needing to attend. The publisher that he was supposed to talk to had to come and find him on the expo floor. Rather than talking about his own game, the fellow exhibitor raved about Forager, blaming the game's addictive nature for the fact that he had missed the meeting. The man, a representative from Humble Bundle, then turned to Mariano to ask him what made his game so special. Awkwardly, Mariano stumbled through his explanation of impossible dungeons and how it blended platforming with tower defense. The man wasn't interested. Humble Bundle had recently signed up a very similar game, and this wasn't what had caught his attention. But what was Forager? And then, suddenly, in a glorious whirlwind of excitement, Mariano's dreams came true. Two months later, he signed a contract with Humble Bundle. The publisher would help bring Forager to the world. Putting in a lot more work and effort, Mariano did his best to complete work on the game. Its demo received over 70,000 downloads. But there was still one more hurdle to overcome. Forager was to be published not just on PC, but also on various consoles, and the plan was for a simultaneous launch on all platforms. In November of 2018, Mariano finished work on the PC version of Forager, right on schedule. But he had to wait to release the game until the console ports were ready to go as well. As the investment from Humble Bundle only covered up until the end of the year, Mariano was yet again facing a period of no income as he waited for the green light to release Forager to the world. This is where the incredible community surrounding the game came forward to help. Fans of Mariano's demo began donating through Patreon and itch.io to help him stay afloat until Forager could be released. Mariano was so very grateful to all of these supporters and added over 2,000 people's names to the credit of his game in thanks. It seemed that his father had been right all along. He couldn't do this alone. He needed to work with a team, both in a professional capacity with his publisher, and embracing his community of fans who were willing to help him make ends meet. As Forager drew nearer to its long-awaited release, Mariano didn't even care how much money the game made. What mattered was that his dream had come true. When he'd first received his publishing deal with Humble Bundle, Mariano had offered to pay his mother back three times the money he'd borrowed from her. Instead, she said that she simply wanted him to take her out to dinner and to know that his father would be very proud. The moral of the story is that we are all Foragers. You have a dream, something that you want to build or achieve or learn. This goal will likely take a lot of work. It could take years to accomplish, as you build yourself up little by little, brick by brick. Your dreams may seem out of reach and impossible. You may feel like the obstacles in your way are too great to overcome. Have faith in yourself. If you're willing to be patient and to work bit by bit to get to where you want to be, then it won't matter how many times you fall down along the way. You can do it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow. But someday, if you keep pushing forward, you'll make your dreams come true.