I listen to a podcast on RPGs and a podcast on indie games -- both of them fairly regularly run headlong into "wait, what even are these genre definitions?" dilemmas.
I'll try to bring this post to the attention of the folks at Axe of the Blood Good and Indieventure, since they should also be interested in your games (Well, at least nominally -- Blood God is an awfully console-focused podcast, and only one of the hosts is likely to be into an indie PC joint in a vaguely Ultima style)
As a lifelong gamer who works as a music theorist—that is, a person who spends some of their time teaching and some of their time putting music into categories and writing papers about it—I think about this issue of categories a lot. Having ways to classify types of musical structures—different kinds of chords, phrases, and whatnot—is helpful, but there will come a point when every musician encounters something that defies easy categorical distinctions. The categories are still helpful for having an organized process about thinking about music (for the sake of memorizing it for performance, making decisions about musical interpretation, etc.), but ultimately, categories can get messy. If category X has four common features, and a musical passage contains only three of those features, does that example fit category X?
Coming up with a definition of a genre (in your own head) is definitely a useful spur to then making a game that is clearly in that genre, but violates the definition you just came up with.
The key part is the "in your own head". This is an enormously valuable exercise, because it lets your identify what parts of the game you want are important to you as a creator. What is it about, say, RPGs that makes you really feel you're playing one. Focusing on that will help you make your design.
But it's a personal artistic judgment. You run into trouble when you try to unleash on the world a firm definition for everyone. Art doesn't work that way.
Genre confusion is incredibly frustrating as a consumer. The arguments have been around forever, i still remember arguing during recess whether Link to the Past was an RPG or an action adventure (the correct answer is action adventure) but with how diluted categories are becoming as we move further and further into gaming as an art it can be super tricky to find something you are interested in with just a cursory glace. Especially if you dwell mostly in the "indie" sphere of game purchasing. I don't really have an answer, just reiterating that its annoying.
As far as Dave the Diver getting indie of the year, I am not so sure that common usage applies in this case. I don't know of anyone in any of my gaming circles that wasn't confounded it was in that category, but maybe the confusing (to me) popularity of TGA will change that, who knows.
Dave feels very Indie aesthetically, which of course shouldn't be enough. As with so many labels there's a question on where the edges actually are - is the defining feature money? Team size? Company fame? How much does the publisher vs the developer matter? What's an example of a company that switched from indie to not indie and when did it happen? These are hard to answer.
The phrase "feels very Indie aesthetically" really jumps out at me, because indie games are enormously aesthetically diverse. I feel like Dave is called indie because it has pixel art and tries to be kind of creative. But when you call that game indie, I think you're just saying that AAA games are creatively impoverished.
It's one of the things that lets Hideo Kojima's unwieldy shambling monstrosities stand out -- nobody else is spending that kind of money to put that much polish on something that weird. (Not since Saint's Row 4, anyway?)
"The Game Awards, an annual infomercial with some award show qualities" savage!
I imagine TGA has a specific indie category for the same reason that the Oscars have a separate animation category, so that the little people are satisfied enough to drop all pretense of shooting for the big time awards like Game of the Year (ie. Best Picture in Oscar parlance).
"I use the same engine and art, game after game, for years and years, only getting redone what I need for my current story. My games, by the modern standard, look like absolute dogs***."
For what it's worth, your approach is one of the big reasons I buy your games. I like that I have to work harder to live in your worlds--it's like the difference between reading a book or watching a movie. A movie may be all "oooh, ahh, wow!" but it someone else's interior expression of that world, not your own. Same with the very realistic gaming worlds--it's someone else's world, not your own. That collaborative process that happens with a book also, to a lesser degree, happens with your games moreso than with the games that try for realism.
I listen to a podcast on RPGs and a podcast on indie games -- both of them fairly regularly run headlong into "wait, what even are these genre definitions?" dilemmas.
I'll try to bring this post to the attention of the folks at Axe of the Blood Good and Indieventure, since they should also be interested in your games (Well, at least nominally -- Blood God is an awfully console-focused podcast, and only one of the hosts is likely to be into an indie PC joint in a vaguely Ultima style)
As a lifelong gamer who works as a music theorist—that is, a person who spends some of their time teaching and some of their time putting music into categories and writing papers about it—I think about this issue of categories a lot. Having ways to classify types of musical structures—different kinds of chords, phrases, and whatnot—is helpful, but there will come a point when every musician encounters something that defies easy categorical distinctions. The categories are still helpful for having an organized process about thinking about music (for the sake of memorizing it for performance, making decisions about musical interpretation, etc.), but ultimately, categories can get messy. If category X has four common features, and a musical passage contains only three of those features, does that example fit category X?
So it is with games, I suppose.
Coming up with a definition of a genre (in your own head) is definitely a useful spur to then making a game that is clearly in that genre, but violates the definition you just came up with.
The key part is the "in your own head". This is an enormously valuable exercise, because it lets your identify what parts of the game you want are important to you as a creator. What is it about, say, RPGs that makes you really feel you're playing one. Focusing on that will help you make your design.
But it's a personal artistic judgment. You run into trouble when you try to unleash on the world a firm definition for everyone. Art doesn't work that way.
Genre confusion is incredibly frustrating as a consumer. The arguments have been around forever, i still remember arguing during recess whether Link to the Past was an RPG or an action adventure (the correct answer is action adventure) but with how diluted categories are becoming as we move further and further into gaming as an art it can be super tricky to find something you are interested in with just a cursory glace. Especially if you dwell mostly in the "indie" sphere of game purchasing. I don't really have an answer, just reiterating that its annoying.
As far as Dave the Diver getting indie of the year, I am not so sure that common usage applies in this case. I don't know of anyone in any of my gaming circles that wasn't confounded it was in that category, but maybe the confusing (to me) popularity of TGA will change that, who knows.
Dave feels very Indie aesthetically, which of course shouldn't be enough. As with so many labels there's a question on where the edges actually are - is the defining feature money? Team size? Company fame? How much does the publisher vs the developer matter? What's an example of a company that switched from indie to not indie and when did it happen? These are hard to answer.
The phrase "feels very Indie aesthetically" really jumps out at me, because indie games are enormously aesthetically diverse. I feel like Dave is called indie because it has pixel art and tries to be kind of creative. But when you call that game indie, I think you're just saying that AAA games are creatively impoverished.
Which I'd argue they are. Hundreds of millions of dollars of investment makes it hard to justify risk.
It's one of the things that lets Hideo Kojima's unwieldy shambling monstrosities stand out -- nobody else is spending that kind of money to put that much polish on something that weird. (Not since Saint's Row 4, anyway?)
"The Game Awards, an annual infomercial with some award show qualities" savage!
I imagine TGA has a specific indie category for the same reason that the Oscars have a separate animation category, so that the little people are satisfied enough to drop all pretense of shooting for the big time awards like Game of the Year (ie. Best Picture in Oscar parlance).
And yet, much like with the Oscars, indies with low budgets make the best product, year after year after year. :)
"I use the same engine and art, game after game, for years and years, only getting redone what I need for my current story. My games, by the modern standard, look like absolute dogs***."
For what it's worth, your approach is one of the big reasons I buy your games. I like that I have to work harder to live in your worlds--it's like the difference between reading a book or watching a movie. A movie may be all "oooh, ahh, wow!" but it someone else's interior expression of that world, not your own. Same with the very realistic gaming worlds--it's someone else's world, not your own. That collaborative process that happens with a book also, to a lesser degree, happens with your games moreso than with the games that try for realism.