If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like to haul your entire indie game life across borders, fight through broken A/C, overpriced parking, clueless laptops, and four days of nonstop booth duty, this is it. PAX West 2025 was my third PAX, my first time doing all four days completely solo, and it tested everything: planning, hardware, patience, and energy. What follows isn’t just a diary; it’s a brutally honest playbook of what worked, what flopped, and the random human moments that made the grind worth it. If you’re an indie dev thinking about showing at PAX, or just curious what it feels like behind the curtain, this is the unfiltered version.
This was my third PAX overall, after PAX West 2024 and PAX East 2025 in Boston. After PAX East I wrote a long postmortem for Steam and Reddit that together crossed more than 250,000 views. A couple of developers who knew me from Vancouver and attended a summer BBQ I hosted in Stanley Park stopped by the day before opening and said they used my previous PAX East postmortem as their reference for the event (their first PAX). That felt really good.
My very first PAX was West 2024. I drove down from Vancouver with a giant Kappa poster, two Steam Decks, a folding table and chairs, and a couple of laptops. (I’ve since bought a house in Saskatchewan, so I’m no longer Vancouver-based.) Last years trip was my crash course in the whole expo, but it taught me a ton and laid the groundwork for this year. Doing the entire show completely solo meant every day was packed, with barely a moment to breathe.
Pre-PAX: approvals, invoices, and why I paid the dumb way first
I was approved for PAX West 2025 after showing a 10×10 at PAX West 2024. They emailed asking if I wanted to attend again and I said yes. I made the original payment, and then it split into a couple more over time. I kept doing wire transfers at the bank, which I do not recommend. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t see their credit card option before (maybe I never got it), but I’m paying by credit card now and it’s so much easier than driving to the bank to do a wire.
The road to Seattle
The plan that changed at the last minute
I live in Saskatchewan now. I originally planned to drive straight to Kamloops in a single long day. At the last minute my mom offered to ride with me and help with the driving. I appreciated that a lot. With her help I stretched the trip into three days and made it less stressful. We stayed at different hotels along the way and split the hours.
After three days I dropped my mom at the Vancouver airport and she flew home. I continued alone to Seattle for the last stretch of the drive.
What the truck carried
Two storage bins filled with cables, adapters, QR code cards, booth hardware, and other tools
I decided to drive because I had these really big standee posters and a large TV, plus two oversized bins full of cords and electronics. I don’t have much experience shipping big displays and didn’t want to risk delays or damage. Driving felt safer at the time. Looking back, it was more than 18 hours one way, over 38 hours total, and probably not worth it. Next time I’ll fly and either ship properly or rent on-site.
(I had to go to the restroom on the highway, climbed a hill into the forest, and while “going #1,” saw these blueberries, lol.)
The Rockies night
One night we stayed in a log hotel in the mountains. In the middle of the night a train went by close enough to wake me from sleep and make me stumble into the middle of the room semi-conscious. For a moment it felt like some kind of siege engine was closing in on the room from outside and coming from all directions, getting progressively louder. I was literally waiting to be killed by some unknown force, like in a dream where you die but end up alive; except I was awake and thought it was real.
The border mind game
My truck’s air conditioner has not worked in years. (Note to self: take it in.) Sitting still in a hot border lineup with no breeze is rough. I had water in the cab, but it was gone an hour before reaching the gate. If the wait had been three hours I would have been in bad shape. I’d hydrated earlier and grabbed a Cold Cut Trio at Subway on the way, which helped.
Border crossing stress is a real thing people talk about on both sides. The moment you mention crossing, many people either say they would never do it because it’s too stressful, or they talk about feeling like you’re treated like a criminal when you’re not. I always tell myself it will be fine and I have nothing to hide, but the anticipation still builds.
Going into the United States I waited a little more than an hour. The agent was calm, professional, and a cool guy, he asked a few questions, and waved me through. No search. Coming back into Canada after the show was more probing. Not explicitly hostile, just more intense. I explained the trip was promotional for PAX West and I was not selling physical products. Nothing to hide. He eventually let me through, and by then I was quite tired.
My old bad crossing and why I over-prepare now
When I was around 19 or 20 I drove alone to visit Yellowstone Park. Evening crossing, sleep-deprived, totally unprepared. I couldn’t even remember the park’s name at first. No hotel details handy, no length of stay. They pulled me aside, searched the vehicle, grilled me and did the whole good-cop/bad-cop with his partner. They still let me in, but it was traumatic and left a scar.
Since then I prepare everything: hotel, exact length of stay, return date, purpose (“exhibiting my game at PAX West”). I answer short and honest and I don’t ramble.
My border checklist advice
Hotels, parking, and the Tacoma commute
I booked a hotel in Tacoma. That meant a 40–50 minute drive each way every day, and sometimes longer with traffic. I woke around 6 a.m. or earlier, drove in, arrived early to buffer against problems, stayed until the floor closed at 6 p.m., drove back, grabbed food, and tried to rest. Because I was solo I couldn’t leave the booth except for very short breaks when my neighbors or my enforcer covered me so I could use the washroom or grab drinks, hot dogs, or a sandwich. I stocked up on drinks and snacks each morning at a convenience store before entering the building. I always ended up joking around with the security people, they had a great sense of humor for some reason.
I booked the Tacoma hotel on my Booking dot com app and didn’t read the fine print closely enough. On check-in they added a $75 USD per-night incidental hold. I’m Canadian, so the exchange rate makes that sting even more. That was not in my budget.
Parking in Seattle during PAX is expensive if you don’t plan ahead. The convention center garage costs $52 USD per day. Multiply that by four show days and add any prep days and it adds up fast. My Tacoma hotel also charged $40+ USD per day for parking. The very first day I fed the street meter out front because I didn’t want a ticket, then the front desk explained they also charge daily parking. They waived the double fee for that day, but the total was still quite high.
Most event days I used the Olivian parking lot for $40 USD per day. It fit my truck, wasn’t crowded if I arrived early, used a simple QR code to pay, and was only a few blocks from the expo. Still expensive, but less stressful than squeezing into the convention center’s tight underground stalls and worrying about it being full.
Next time I will try to book a hotel within walking distance and I will actually use parking apps (pro tip!) to reserve a cheaper spot in advance. A longer walk is fine if it saves money and stress.
Packing and prepping: my checklist system
I make a checklist every time. It’s the only way I don’t forget things. I scroll through old photos of my booths and let the visuals jog my memory. Then I write everything down and cross it off as I pack.
Electronics first. Every cord and adapter I might need. Backup batteries. If you’re going overseas, outlet converters. Stress makes you forget the obvious.
Toiletries: deodorant, cologne, toothbrush, toothpaste and anything you actually use daily.
Clothes: extra socks and shirts, comfortable shoes.
Write it all down. Pack it. Then check it again.
My house-sweep ritual: right before leaving, I walk from the basement all the way to the top floor and look at everything. “Do I need this?” Even when I think my bags are done, I almost always grab two or three extra things I would have missed.
I do the same when leaving hotels or even restaurants. Check the table, floor, bed, bathroom. Phone, keys, wallet. Those three are critical. More than once I’ve found something in a weird gap beside the bed or still on the bathroom counter.
Road snacks and water: Costco flats of bottled water in the back seat are great. A small cooler with beef jerky or turkey pepperoni sticks or other shelf-stable stuff helps if you want to make time without stopping. If you’re crossing a border, be aware fresh stuff might need to be tossed.
Flying tips: you can’t bring everything, but once you’re past security you can stock up. Baby wipes and hand sanitizer are weirdly clutch. Noise-cancelling headphones, charge them and preload content on your phone or tablet so you’re not dependent on terrible Wi-Fi. Eye mask so you can block out light. Sunglasses too. A charged laptop or tablet is perfect for writing or quick work sessions because you’re stuck in a seat anyway.
Load-in, booth, and the people nearby
When I showed up with the truck I drove to a loading bay that I thought was correct. It wasn’t. It looked like the place for the bigger booths, not the hand-carry indies. Normally if you’re in a 10×10, you are hand-carry. But the first security guy looked at me, listened for a second, and basically said, “Well, since you are already here, I may as well just let you through.” Absolute lifesaver.
They gave me a little dash slip with my arrival time and “authorized” on it. I drove up a level, through a mini maze of ramps, and found another guy to ask about where I could park. He said, “You can park on the bridge if you want.” This bridge connected two buildings. Pure luck. I parked, popped the tailgate, and started hauling the big stuff.
(How your booth looks when you first show up.)
By some miracle, my booth was very close to that bridge. That meant no elevators and no endless hallways with heavy bins. That was two days before the show. I got all the big items in: the TV, the Costco 8-foot table, the standees, the bins.
(Dropped off the heavy supplies.)
While I was carrying a bin that looked heavy, an older lady spotted me and rolled over a push cart. She helped me balance the TV on it and just chatted with me for ten minutes while we positioned everything. I gave her some free stickers, Pickle the Cat temporary tattoos, and a game card. She said she wanted to give them to her kids or grandkids. Later in the show she walked by my booth again. We made eye contact, smiled, nodded. Little human moment, but those matter.
The guy who told me to park on the bridge came back, looked at my Canadian plate, and asked, “How much longer are you going to be here?” even though I had basically just started unloading. I don’t know if his boss pinged him or if he just changed his mind. He had been nice at first, then it felt a bit cold. I stayed calm and said, “Definitely under an hour.” In reality I was out in under thirty minutes. I never saw him again. Everyone during load-in was friendly.
(Pre-PAX, initial setup.)
The day before opening is the normal hand-carry day for indies. I brought in the smaller stuff then: the suitcases, the backup cords, the little tools. That was also my setup day. I put up the 10-foot-long wall poster, tested all the power and cables, checked that the big TV recognized the inputs, and did a quick dry run of the trailer.
(Roaming around, before anything is set up.)
Neighbors and enforcer
My enforcer was Haven Monarch. Friendly guy, dependable, helped me get a hot dog or a quick bathroom break when I needed to step away for two minutes. That matters when you’re solo. I also had the exact same booth spot as last year, which helped a lot because I already knew the traffic flow and the sightlines.
I took all the critical electronics with me that night like I always do. Two laptops, two Steam Decks, and the other must-not-lose items went into a big backpack. I do not leave that stuff overnight. The rest I hid in bins under the tables to avoid obvious easy grabs. That is my rule: take the truly important gear with you, hide the rest.
Day 1: the XPS faceplant and the quick pivot
Morning of Day 1, media hour was quiet, that’s normal for indie booths. People trickle in and then it ramps up. A kid sat down at the Dell XPS 17 (the expensive, maxed-out, touch-screen one that cost me more than $5,000 CAD), and the game just lagged. Badly. Stuttering in a way where you have to say something. I leaned in and said, “It is not the game, it is just this laptop.” His mom looked over at the Steam Decks and said she could tell because it was running smooth on those. She was right, and that comment actually made me feel better in the moment.
(We've found the culprit - upon the day of writing this post, a technician representing Dell, opened up my laptop after coming to my house; he replaced the motherboard, but OMG look at how dirty the fans were!)
Immediate pivot: I moved the main demo to my old 17-inch gaming laptop. It ran Cornucopia flawlessly the whole show. The two Steam Decks became the primary sit-down play stations. The XPS got demoted to trailer duty on the big screen. Even then, VLC on loop would randomly pause. So I set the trailer as a wallpaper video and just nudged it when needed. Not perfect, but it worked.
Steam Deck reliability and the little hiccups
The Decks were rock-solid overall (highly recommend them for showing your game). Across four days I had maybe two or three full freezes total. When it happened I did a hard restart. It takes over a minute; the person sitting down always waited and was very patient and polite.
I also had a Nintendo Switch controller plugged into the laptop. A few times someone pressed the wrong button combo and it dumped the game to Windows. I still don’t know which button did it. I would Alt-Tab back and they would keep going. Not ideal, but survivable.
On the last day, I couldn’t find my mouse. I looked everywhere, including my backpack two or three times. Couldn’t find it. I ran the whole day on the controller and honestly it was fine. Next day, at the hotel, I found the mouse in my backpack. No idea how I missed it. Lesson: pack backup mice. Plural.
Music, trailer, and the feel of the booth
I had the Cornucopia soundtrack playing on a portable speaker that I kept plugged in the whole time. People were bobbing their heads to it. One thing I noticed again: slow tracks make the booth feel slower. Upbeat tracks lift the energy. It’s not a lab experiment, but it’s noticeable enough that I will treat soundtrack tempo like a real booth tool from now on, favoring more upbeat or enchanting tracks.
The trailer looked good on the big screen. Once I moved away from VLC looping and used wallpaper video, it stayed up reliably and did its job pulling people in to watch for a minute and then sit down to play.
Signage, posters, and clarity
Based on PAX East, I knew I should have big, clear signage that says “Available Now on Steam” and “Coming to Nintendo Switch,” plus a short list of what makes Cornucopia different, with large character art to show dating potential. I did not get that printed ahead of time.
Two days into the event I walked to a local print shop near my hotel and had 12×18 posters made on thick paper with screenshots and simple text. They looked fine and helped answer the same questions I kept hearing. They were not as big or as professional as I wanted. Next time I will print proper boards well in advance.
The rhythm of the four days
The first hour of the first day is the media hour. In the indie section it’s usually quiet. Press and creators go to the biggest booths near the entrance first. The first two hours can be slow. After that it usually picks up and stays busy. That’s what happened.
The first three days were very busy and super positive. The last day was slower at the beginning and the end, with a few hours in the middle that were solid and even busy at times.
Watching people play is gold. You see what they like and what confuses them. Many people mentioned they liked the more top-down angle and that they loved being able to change the camera. That feedback pushed me further toward improving the camera system in the next update.
I also learned again that long explanations can overload people. Even if someone asks for details, a big feature dump can make them check out. Short answers work better. Asking them questions works best.
At the booth: my interaction style, cards, tattoos
Everybody has their own style of running a booth. Some devs will engage every single person who walks past, pitching constantly and pulling people in. I don’t do that. My approach is more laid-back.
Sometimes I would walk up to someone who looked curious but distant and hand them the square card with the QR code and explain the game. “Here’s a card for you”, "Did I give you a card yet?" and that is it. Almost everyone took it, except two people, and that was because they already had one. People took over 2,000 cards. Nobody outright refused. Honestly, that is kind of insane when I think about it.
I had a little over a hundred Pickle the Cat temporary tattoos left over from before, and a small number of pins. The tattoos are small, but people love them. If a kid was clearly into the game, or parents had a little one who looked excited, or even an adult with tattoos already, I would hand one over. It’s free. It makes people smile. They would say “omg,” “it’s adorable,” “PICKLES!,” or “I love it.” Last year I gave out a lot of the big Kyuri the Kappa and Penelope tattoos. Those were more expensive, but I bet people still have them. This year I scaled down, but the Pickle tattoos were a nice “special moment” for the folks who were really into it.
(These guys are always highlights when they come by, so much fun. I signed their shirts with permanent marker at both PAX West and East now. This photo was taken on Day 4 it was the second time I saw them at the event.)
Note on merch: I only ever sell merch in Canada, and only once or twice. In the United States I just give things away for free. This year I was working through leftovers, hence all the Pickle tattoos, and I ran out of pins fast which I reserved for very special people.
Giving someone a card or a tattoo also breaks the ice. People who were hanging back get more comfortable and ask the question they were holding. I still try not to go long on answers. Most people don’t want a lecture. Better to ask what they like, what they play, and just keep it human.
Who showed up: locals, Californians, Vancouver folks
Lots of Seattle-area folks. Some drove an hour or two. A lot flew up from California and various states. A handful from Vancouver, including a couple of people I already knew. Seeing familiar faces is nice. Sometimes you hug, sometimes you shake hands. Good vibes either way.
Kids, sparkle eyes, and the moments that hit
One of the funniest and most rewarding parts is still the kids. Some already own Cornucopia, their parents would tell me. Others sit down on the Steam Deck and refuse to leave. They will come back day after day.
One large family came multiple times. The little girl was glued to the Deck. She said something I did not hear, and her mom nudged her, “Tell him again.” The girl looked up with those bright eyes and said, “I want to play this every day when I get home after school.” That kind of pure enthusiasm sticks with you. We laughed together, and I gave the kids in that family some free stuff. They were so polite and grateful.
A couple of little boys had that same awe. One said something like, “It is so amazing that you made this game,” “Wow, your game is soooo cool, you made this????,” “It’s so cool you made this game!” and thanked me. I don’t remember all the exact wording, but the sincerity is what I remember. Moments like that are funny and also kind of humbling.
One dad, his son was basically obsessed! He chatted with me about the driving distance to the Tacoma hotel. Out of nowhere he said he knows people in Seattle and maybe next year I could stay with someone he knows, or even at his house. He said it multiple times, like he meant it. People can be surprisingly generous; he was high up at Microsoft.
People and conversations: the mosaic of jobs
If I ask “Where are you from?” and, in longer chats, “What do you do?” the answers get wild fast. I met multiple Nintendo employees (some who were fans), including people tied to Switch 2 development. Microsoft manager and employees. Someone who said they came up with the original Xbox Live Gamertag idea. People at Apple, Amazon, and more! A German man working on complicated realistic VR acoustics/research for the Meta Quest headset. Someone at Blue Origin who told me about Unity work on a mech suit prototype. Indie studio leads and all types of indies from near and far. A team from the UK with a very cool mini-arcade machine and game-themed rubber ducks. My booth mate across the way had worked on Halo and Madden before going indie. And then there are the folks you don’t recognize until later, like when I spotted the original lead designer for Diablo 1 and 2 walking by. I stopped him, said hi, chatted for a few minutes about his new studio and Cornucopia, got a photo, and gave him some Cornucopia pins. I was addicted to those games growing up.
(David Brevik, original creator of Diablo, fanboy moment.)
What stood out is that a lot of these very successful people were impressed that I’m a solo dev with a real game at PAX. Some literally said they admired that I made this myself. Some of the most impressed were aspiring devs who have only done game jams or are just starting out. Irony: many of them probably make way more money than I do in their day jobs. But they respect the indie grind. That contrast is surreal and humbling.
I always try to give the best advice I can when someone asks, but I also qualify it. While it’s good wisdom → I am not a millionaire, lol. There are bigger voices out there. Still, I’ve got some hard-won wisdom: use Steam Decks; marketing tips; let signage answer the repeat questions; don’t overwhelm people with explanations; test your hardware in expo conditions; bring backups of small stuff; and lots of game-development info.
Comparisons, criticism, and explaining the game
There were only a handful of overtly negative comments. The classics: “It is just Stardew Valley,” “GUI looks too similar.” Surface comparisons happen all day: older folks say FarmVille, non-gamers say Minecraft because pixel art, genre fans say Harvest Moon or Stardew Valley. Lots of enthusiasm in comparing to a wide variety of farming sims.
I don’t get offended. People relate new things to what they already know. That is literally how buying happens. And it’s how Steam’s algorithm seems to work. If you like Coral Island, Story of Seasons, Sun Haven, My Time at Portia or Sandrock, or Harvest Moon, you will likely be into Cornucopia too.
I grew up on Harvest Moon 64 and Back to Nature on PS1. That was my spark. I also loved Stardew Valley. There are many other games I’ve played throughout my life that helped inspire Cornucopia; I just often don’t mention them.
My one-liner now is simple, with a clear “not affiliated” disclaimer:
“It’s like Stardew Valley combined with Paper Mario.”
This is obviously a drastic oversimplification, and doesn’t truly cover what Cornucopia is, but it definitely gives a great idea of framing the genre. Paper Mario camera perspective and character flipping is immediately recognizable. Then I add two or three tiny differentiators, max. People want an anchor they understand, and then they want to play it for themselves.
(Prior to opening I talked with neighbors to the left who were from the UK and was going to buy this Tomb Raider 2 duck for $20 and asked for his signature, but he just gave it for free. That was awesome. They were great the entire show, lending stuff back and forth.)
Reception and feedback, including the last-day trio
Overall reception was probably the most positive I have ever had. Out of thousands of people, only a tiny handful were not into it. The most memorable was a trio on the last day. They stood nearby and started criticizing the game. I walked up and said, “Hey, I am the developer,” and calmly explained the parts they were talking about. One guy literally bolted immediately. Another tried a parting jab, but the explanation kind of pulled the rug out from under it, so he muttered “I will check it out” and left quickly. The last guy stayed a minute and a half, listened, nodded, and left with a different vibe. It was awkward for them, not for me. And honestly, that was the worst interaction of the show.
Interviews, streamers, and a Munger moment
I did a couple of interviews. Not big mainstream outlets, YouTubers and streamers. One streamer was live right in front of me. I did not recognize him at first. He saw Munger, got excited, and I gave him a Munger merch thing for free. He was super friendly and genuinely happy, and it turned into a funny, positive little moment.
Community and connections: the neighbor moment
My neighbors were awesome. There was a couple at the booth next to mine with a cool young guy helping them. The main dev had done PAX before and was from out of state, but it was his girlfriend’s first time ever exhibiting. She was nervous at the start and then totally found her groove. When it was all ending and we were packing up, she actually got emotional when I was leaving (she got very teary-eyed) and we had a group hug. It was funny. Definitely a wholesome goodbye, and kind of heartwarming.
Those connections mean a lot. You don’t just leave with feedback, you leave with friends who know what it feels like to be in the trenches with you. That is half of what makes PAX worth it.
The big-screen lesson, relearned
In the final hours of Day 4, I plugged a Steam Deck into the big screen over HDMI and let people play that way. It looked great. People walking behind the booth kept saying it looked cool. Big screens are magnets. I knew this from an Edmonton event where I put the Cornucopia Chopper arcade minigame on a big screen and people loved it, but doing it again at West drove it home. Next time I want two big screens, each with a controller or Deck, plus one or two regular demo stations, and a small HDMI switch to swap inputs fast.
Giveaways, keys, and contact flow
I had business cards out. When people gave me theirs, I gave them mine. A lot of people asked to add me on Discord, but the hall connection was iffy. My workaround was taking a screenshot of my Discord profile so I could add people later. That saved a bunch of connections that would have been lost.
I wish I had prepped batches of Steam keys for press, streamers, and VIPs with scratch-off cards and tiny batch codes. I’ve said that before, and I need to just do it next time. For swag, I ran out of pins fast. The Pickle tattoos were a good freebie, but next time I will bring three to five times more for the folks I really want to thank.
The road home: the three-hour mistake and the Rockies stop
Round trip is 38+ hours of driving. On the way back I decided to try a different route and re-enter Canada through a different state. On the map it looked fine. In reality there was heavy road construction that did not show up until I was already stuck. After wasting over three hours in that, I turned around, went back toward Seattle, and crossed near Vancouver like I should have done in the first place. That burned whatever patience I had left.
(No A/C cooling-down life hack: it was getting really hot and I probably hadn’t had a Slurpee in over 20 years, lol.)
Later, second-to-last day of the drive, I got stuck in the Rockies in the evening. Full stop. An RV had flipped and maybe caught fire. It got dark. We sat there for over two hours. There was a tall guy on a really nice motorcycle behind me. I walked back and asked what he had heard. First we thought fire, then another guy said RV flipped. While we waited, I remembered I had a handful of extra PAX lanyards. I gave the motorcyclist a couple of the lanyards. He liked that and we ended up talking for about an hour and a half. He just told me a lot of his life story (maybe more than he had intended but it was fun). Totally random. When you’re stuck like that, people open up. That memory now sits right next to all the booth memories.
What worked (some quick tips)
What I would fix (my other list)
Do not ship big updates right before travel. Either ship early and test, or wait until after.
Print large pro boards early: “Available Now on Steam,” “Coming to Nintendo Switch,” the one-liner, three to four short differentiators with icons, big character art.
Standardize demo hardware. Stress-test every device in expo conditions.
Use a bulletproof trailer loop method and verify it runs for hours without pausing.
Book a hotel within walking distance. Read fine print on incidentals and parking.
Use parking apps to reserve cheaper lots. Accept the extra walk.
Bring way more free tattoos and pins. Prepare Steam key cards for press, creators, and VIPs with trackable batches.
Simple offline contact flow: vCard QR, link-hub QR, plus the habit of snapping a photo of each business card with a quick written or digital note to remember the interaction.
Always bring backups of tiny items: mice, gamepads, dongles.
Look into short-throw projectors with lots of lumens for expo lighting to take on planes (instead of relying on transporting a big-screen TV).
Final thoughts
This was the most demanding show I’ve done so far because I was alone. Tons of driving. Truck A/C still broken. Border stress from anticipation both ways. Tacoma commute draining energy every morning and night. Expensive parking and hotel incidentals. The best laptop I own underperformed. I scrambled to print posters at a local print store. I lost my mouse the last day, then found it in the same backpack I had already searched. On the way home I wasted more than three hours trying a new route because construction didn’t show up until I was trapped. I also got stuck in the Rockies at night for over two hours because an RV flipped, and I stood there talking with a motorcyclist about life while handing out PAX lanyards.
And still, it was one of the most rewarding things I’ve done. Kids lit up and kept coming back. Super-cool people said kind things and were genuinely excited. Many said they already own the game and love it. Old acquaintances told me my last postmortem helped them set up their first PAX booth. The Steam Decks kept people entertained. The big screen reminded me that a large display is worth the hassle. The soundtrack mattered more than I expected. Neighbors and my enforcer made four long days feel possible. That is the stuff I will remember.
I’m leaving this as both a diary and a playbook. If it helps someone else, great. If it just makes me do the next one better, that is still a win. I will show Cornucopia again. I will bring proper signage. I will bring more free pins and free tattoos and free pre-made Steam keys for streamers. I will bring backup mice. I will keep the one-sentence description ready and I will stop talking once people start playing.
Thanks for all the love and support!!! PAX was amazing 🥰 The people are always the best part of these events.
Lots of love, ♥️
David
P.S - An awesome update is in the works and not forgotten. Sorry about the delay!
