We all know that good old stereotype: the one which dictates that all computer-bound people are highly introverted and extremely antisocial individuals who wouldn't know how to start a conversation even if they were slapped in the face with their grandmother's knickers.

I can cite quite a few examples of why this is incredibly untrue, but at the same time I'm going to lend that statement some small credence and say this: I know that a lot of way-too-shy developers are out there. I've met loads of them personally. As the well-worn marketing slogan goes, for every dev that steps up and soaks up some limelight, there's a good thousand or so hiding in the shadows, busy suffering from plagues of anxiety.

Unfortunately, fear isn't going to get you anywhere. You can try every marketing trick in the book, but if you're going to cave in to negative feedback, crumple when trying to fire off a press e-mail, or hesitate when ready to click on the "reply" button in any context, you're ultimately going to lose the war against obscurity.

To this end, we're not going to have a session telling you how to promote your work. We're not going to explain how to maximise your gain from criticisms and feedback. We're going to identify, analyse and overcome that bane of every game developer's existence: negative self-talk. Because if there's one thing that will ruin your chances at marketing, it's your own doubts, fears and insecurities.

Something which I often lament is the tendency of places like IndieGames.com to pick up something that I consider half-complete and parade it in front of their readers. It's kinda like being a spotty, insecure teenager and having somebody decide that grabbing and sharing your personal porn collection with all of your classmates – including that secret crush of yours — is a perfectly sane and rational idea.

The funny thing? This "unwanted exposure" has, in every case, benefitted me. Most recently, a Minesweeper variant I made called Onslaught of the Electric Zombies was put onto IndieGames while it was still a work in progress. "Oh crap," I thought, "This is too soon. Everybody's going to find out, play it, see the bugs, complain about lack of polish and HATE ME FOREVER!"

It turned out to be not all that bad. As a result of the game's exposure, I gained not only several valuable playtesters, but enough encouragement and positive feedback to continue working on the game and, ultimately, complete it. As an added bonus, I enjoyed an updated review on IndieGames a few weeks later ... and this time, I was very happy indeed to see it up there!

Moral of the story: if you send your game off to a reviewer, or post it on a forum, or get your little brother to play it, don't worry about whether or not it's "quite good enough". Even if a particular source hates it and absolutely refuses to play it ever again ever ever (which isn't really a guarantee in itself), there's always going to be plenty of other fish in the sea. If Forum 1 isn't impressed by your product, you can use it as a springboard to improve your game and get it seen by Forums 2 through 187223487. [That is not a small number. That is a big number! – Ed]

First impressions count less than you'd think. If somebody catches a review of your game, they'll very rarely be mindful of your previous products unless you've already secured them as a fan. The Internet is, after all, too big to care. That means that until you get your first really popular game out, you can consider your career as a blank slate which constantly resets itself until you do something right. Heck, it's like a quick-save in real life! And with that in mind, what have you got to lose?