We Need to Start Making Art Again: The Corporate Rot in Gaming and Publishing

“I write journals like this on my website and my Substack account under Inkfightsback. I’m a reader and donation supported writer, and my goal is to bring free education and critical opinion pieces to the masses.” 

By someone who still loves the game and the page… 

If you’ve been around the modern gaming and book scene for even five minutes, you’ve probably noticed the rot. I don’t say that lightly. I say it as someone who grew up clutching fantasy novels under one arm and grinding out strategy RPGs until my eyes burned. I say it as a gamer who loves Final Fantasy Tactics and Fire Emblem as much as I love Berserk and The Name of the Wind. I say it as a publisher who works with indie authors, game reviewers, artists, and writers every single day. By someone who still loves the game and the page… 

If you’ve been around the modern gaming and book scene for even five minutes, you’ve probably noticed the rot. I don’t say that lightly. I say it as someone who grew up clutching fantasy novels under one arm and grinding out strategy RPGs until my eyes burned. I say it as a gamer who loves Final Fantasy Tactics and Fire Emblem as much as I love Berserk and The Name of the Wind. I say it as a publisher who works with indie authors, game reviewers, artists, and writers every single day. 

What used to feel like magic now often feels like a cynical cash grab. Whether we’re talking about the latest triple-A game launch or the newest hyped up fantasy debut, the quality is slipping. And it’s not just me saying this. Talk to gamers. Talk to readers. The streets of Reddit, Goodreads, Steam, and Metacritic are loud with frustration. So, what’s going on? 

The Fast Food Era of Games and Books 

Let’s start with gaming. How many times do we have to see “massive day one patch” or “performance issues on PC” in reviews before we admit we’ve got a problem? Big studios are rolling out half-baked titles at $70 a pop, minimum, with the assumption that we’ll just wait around for a patch or buy the DLC to get the “real” story. 

Optimization issues on high end rigs. Broken questlines. Features that were clearly cut to sell back later. Even Nintendo, a company I’ve always respected for its polish and passion, has joined the $70-$100 club. Digital or physical, it doesn’t matter. The price is locked, and you better believe that’s the new industry norm. 

I grew up loving Nintendo. I still love Nintendo. But love isn’t blind. Charging more while delivering less is not innovation. It’s just profit seeking rapid capitalism wrapped in a familiar face. 

Books aren’t doing much better. 

Publishing houses, both indie and traditional, are spitting out content like they’re trying to fill a conveyor belt. Plot holes. Inconsistent characters. Typos on the back cover. Novels that read like first drafts. It’s like we’ve traded storytelling for marketing blurbs. Some of these books look pretty on TikTok, but crack them open and you’ll find missing depth, rushed endings, or entire chapters that read like they were rewritten mid print. 

We’ve Forgotten We’re Providing a Service 

Art is a service. Let me say that again. Art. Is. A. Service. When you sell a novel, a video game, a comic book, a fantasy world, you’re selling escapism. You’re giving people a place to go when the real world is burning. You’re offering relief. You’re offering imagination. You’re offering time, something no one can get back. 

And yet, we keep choosing the quick buck over quality. We’re flooding the shelves and servers with unfinished work and treating consumers like walking wallets. This isn’t about indie versus corporate. This is about mindset. This is about intention. 

What Happened to Love? 

You remember what it felt like to fall in love with a world, right? 

That first time you played Vanilla Wow, Chrono Trigger or read The Hobbit or picked up a manga that made your chest ache? You didn’t care about the price. You didn’t care if it was printed on glossy paper or bundled with a special edition vinyl pin. You just felt something. 

I believe we can still make things that move people like that. 

But to do that, we have to slow down. We have to think like artists again, not content machines. We need to empower the creatives. The devs. The writers. The editors. The voice actors. We need to stop treating production teams like they’re just tools to meet a quarterly goal. 

You can’t sprint through world building. You can’t auto generate meaning. You can’t shortcut emotion. You have to care. And you have to give a damn about the people who are trusting you with their time. 

The Way Forward: Rebuild Trust, Not Timelines 

We don’t have to accept this as the new normal. 

Readers are getting smarter. Gamers are getting louder. Streamers, reviewers, booktubers, indie journalists, hell, even TikTok creators, are waking up to the grift. People want connection again. They want quality again. And most importantly, they want authenticity. 

If you’re a developer, publisher, or creator reading this: stop chasing the algorithm. Chase the story. Chase the gameplay loop that feels good. Chase the edit that makes the chapter sing. Chase the kind of art that you’d be proud to show your younger self. 

Because I guarantee you this, when you make something real, the audience comes. Maybe not overnight. Maybe not with a viral trailer. But they come. And when they do, they stay. 

It’s Time to Fight Back With Ink and Imagination 

As the founder of a small but passionate publishing and journalism company (Actually, just myself), I’ve made a vow to prioritize quality over trend. My team and I (My partners at Nail the Market Media) work with creators who care about what they make, not just what they earn. We serve indie authors, game historians, retro gamers, manga artists, and journalists who still believe the pen (or stylus) is mightier than the cash grab. 

If you’re like me, if you’re tired of paying more and getting less, tired of patch notes longer than the game’s prologue, tired of novels that treat you like content instead of a reader, then let’s make some noise. 

Let’s hold companies accountable. Let’s support the devs and writers who pour their hearts into what they do. Let’s create with the collective in mind. Let’s make escapism healthy again. 

Let’s make art again. 

Thanks for reading. You can find more of my work at Inkfightsback on Substack or on my site. Support comes through donations and shares, and every voice counts in the fight for better media.