I’ve been slowly but steadily working on a project I hope to submit to Spring Thing 2025. I don’t know how good it will but, but I hope it will provide some interest.
Thing is, I’ve been coming across examples of people whose first games were recognized instant classics, including but not limited to Anchorhead and Violet. I’m pretty sure that my little game isn’t going to be of that calibre.
So, how do you avoid comparing your own work to classic games and maintain enthusiasm for your project?
The thing I find the most motivating is the critical attention. Even if you don’t win IFComp on your first try and create a new classic of the genre, dozens of people will play your game and write about their thoughts on it. And not just a one-sentence comment, but full-length reviews, analyzing the writing, the plot, the programming, everything!
Degrees-of-success comparisons don’t really help with anything, except inducing mental distress of a kind that doesn’t help. I mean, you probably already knew or realised that and I see you asking ‘how to avoid’ them 
My short answer is: I would dwell on your game’s uniqueness, its you-ness. Comparing to successes is always a false activity because your thing and the thing you’re comparing to, and the circumstances of each and their creators, and the moment in time of each, are not comparable.
This can certainly be difficult. I find this especially difficult to do with my music, but returning to it as the truth keeps me balanced.
Another thing is, almost none of these long-term success games would have been viewed as anything other than ‘the project I’m working on now’ when they were being made. Considered that way, you’re in the same boat as everyone else. You’re in the same seat right now as anyone else who made what was later called ‘a classic’ sat in. This is actually exciting, at least creatively.
In general, producing the thing you want to produce is the way to feelings of success. The other elements are out of your control. This is the artist spirit. I’m aware I can make it sound easy because I seem to have been born with this spirit, but it is uncomplicated.
I feel like a worthy variation to mention is @mathbrush, who has often pored over past games and analytically tried to work out what will do well in IFComp, what won’t, and experimented with tinkering with these elements in his games for certain outcomes. But this has worked for him because it was exactly what he wanted to do! The main thing remains doing what you want to do.
To some it will sound lofty to speak of adhering to your vision - you may prefer ‘I want to get the job done’. But whatever tone and motivational spark is required to state your aim to yourself, it’s worth reminding yourself of that if you start to drift and think about things that aren’t your game. Your game is the thing.
And now to see what wonder Drew’s been typing while I’ve been typing this
-Wade
My main goal is to fall in love with an idea and try to learn some Inform along the way. Older games, no matter how good, don’t really factor into that. I just need a good idea and some new programming tricks to try. That’s it! I can stay busy for months on that. It’s kept me busy most of the day.
Some older games come up in Repeat the Ending, but that’s about having a conversation with them. Photopia is mentioned a few times, but that’s not about beating it or being beaten by it. It’s just a matter of “This is a cool thing that happened in IF, and I want to relate to it.” Conversation, not contention.
(E) I’ll also add: sometimes setbacks happen! Things just aren’t happening quickly enough, or a test went poorly, or a mechanic is flawed to the point of needing a teardown. These things can feel difficult for sure. But I think that’s the benefit of focusing on the idea. The idea can survive all of that, after all. Ideas are quite durable.
Try to go easy on yourself when it feels necessary. Chase small victories, squash little bugs, copy edit your text, etc.
I have to agree what everyone has already said (including what severedhand said about me researching games).
But here’s one nice thing: most people haven’t played most of those great games you’re thinking about. It wouldn’t surprise me if most people on this forum have only played 20 IF games or less, maybe even less than 10; while there’s an ‘old guard’ that has stayed around for decades, most people think IF is something neat, try it out, enter a comp or two, then move on to other interests.
So, there’s a chance that someone will play your game and think it’s the greatest thing they’ve ever played! I’ve seen it happen with a lot of other games that I personally wouldn’t have found spectacular: somebody picks it up and says, ‘Yes, this is what I love, this is my precious.’ And I think that’s beautiful. There’s lots of games I love that I think others may find silly.
Also, the ‘first game as instant classic’ is rare and a bit over-rated. Some authors hide games that they aren’t proud of, so what looks like a first game really isn’t. Sometimes they have earlier games but no one remembers them (like Andrew Plotkin’s Infidel parody or Emily Short’s short camera/fire simulation game). Others already have extensive experience with computer programming, game design or novel writing. And others (including me) rely heavily on the experience of others. Here’s one thing the author of Violet said about the creation process:
Jeremy: Everybody who gives advice about writing IF emphasizes the importance of beta-testing. As Jenni put it in her recap, “If I were going to sum up this year’s competition in a single word, that one word would be “get some [bother]ing betatesters.” Yet what maybe doesn’t get emphasized enough is the importance of iterative beta-testing. Violet went through ten rounds of other people playing it: two with my Special Australian Alpha Tester, and then eight rounds of beta with fourteen other testers. Every round, Violet got better.
Curses was the same way; the original game didn’t include as many areas as it does now, and it got refined over time. I like to get a lot of help from testers, too. My largest game credits 50 different people who helped with the game.
So if you think “I can’t create an amazing game all by myself in a short timeframe with no prior experience!” then you’re probably right, but neither could any of those people.
Except maybe Michael Gentry with Anchorhead. I was trying to find some way to see if he get help or had earlier games or had some other big advantage over others, but it seems like he really was just built different after reading this interview.
I go to sleep early. I get up when I feel like it. I play my music loud when I want and quiet when I feel like it. And, very critically, I try to talk about my game with people, on discord and now here. Hearing other people’s responses is something that gives me a lot of hope and vigor. A few people have even said that they’re excited for my ideas.
Another thing- break it down. Nobody builds a whole house all at once. You start with the foundation. And that includes concrete. Which includes mixing, pouring, rebar…
Making a game is a whole process which needs to be divided up into it’s component parts. Doing this makes it easier to take on, and prevents burnout. It’s helped me a lot.
There’s not much room for self doubt in these journeys. So what if it’s not an instant classic? It’s yours. You made it. That is priceless, and no one can take it from you.
I haven’t released a full length project yet, but these strategies work for me. I use them for school and other projects to some success; I hope this helps!
I know this isn’t very helpful, but for me I simply had to give up on comparing. My first game was a 39-year-late non-official sequel to one of the more famous IF games by a very famous writer and also by a famous IF game designer which they had a full-time job making, based off a book series by said writer that literally everybody’s at least vaguely heard of. It’s not particularly good, but at least I knew it was going to be risky, especially since it was bound to compared to something almost impossible to live up to. If I compared it to the original game at any point, I never would have finished it or submitted it to IFComp. It’s certainly not going to be remembered by anyone, but it was certainly worth doing.
And I know that story is honestly probably irrelevant, considering I was probably dumb for doing that, and not comparing at all isn’t good either (I’m ashamed to say I actually never compared Milliways to H2G2 during its creation process except in file size), but it got me through the game. I hope that’s at all helpful to know.
As for maintaining enthusiasm, I dunno! I had loads of enthusiasm despite working pretty much every day on it for nearly a year. My current WIP has been going for over one year now, since January 2024, and I have been pretty low on creative energy for some months, so that’s been going slow. (Though I might admit, my current game is larger in game content than Milliways, and that was longer and bigger - but not better - than H2G2. So, like, a lot of work has been going into it anyway!)
Ultimately, what I’m trying to say is that comparing your game is unfortunately probably unavoidable but it’s about going “well, at least my game does this thing that Violet and Anchordhead didn’t think of!”; enthusiasm isn’t gonna be a constant but there might be points where you go “there are seven large coding things I all need to do and none of them are ordering themselves for me!” And you’ll just have to pick one and flesh it out, completely forgetting about all other six.
If that makes any sense?
For my part, if I waited for enthusiasm, inspiration, motivation and all their friends to write and code, nothing would get done. It’s the same for anything that requires me to make an effort. I have to go and find these things, and the only method that works for me is to get down to work, whatever I feel like doing.
So, to answer the question raised by the OP, when I play a magnificent game (whatever the genre, in fact), I see discipline, hard work, consistency and rigour. It’s pretty motivating!
my suggestion is ignoring non-costructive criticism, and avoiding too many alphabetic, so to speak 
anticipations, or side stories.
But this stems from an issue (not exactly a master of english language) that perhaps you don’t have…
Best regards from Italy,
dott. Piergiorgio.
Lots of ideas pass through my head. I only pursue the ones that feel like they have legs to run on their own. Even then, it can take years. (Because like most of us in IF, it’s a hobby)
I’m never too worried about comparing myself to others. It would be nice to write a game that was accepted into the “top fifty of all time”. But it’s difficult to know how to aim for that. Just be yourself, write what you know, and put your heart into it.
I’d suggest getting some play testers. You can participate in the community and improve your game. You seem to be predicting 2 possible outcomes for your game - instant classic or being ignored. The Internet can be far less kind than that. But I think testers are kinder, wanting more to help you and less to say something clever, and if not at least it’s in private.
My advice based on years of creative depression: fall in love with the process, not the outcome.
You might be surprised what the people who
made the award winning games thought of them and felt about them and winning.
It’s also the case that an award can create crippling pressure around the next game and “will it do so well?”
I try to take as much pleasure from the process of creation and not worry too much about the end result except in so far as I want to play it.
Of course given my output rate I would say that wouldn’t I 
@sandbags I so relate to this. Having just replied to one of your other posts, and now having read this, I feel like I understand what you were getting at waaaay more than I did five minutes ago.
@Melendwyr good luck out there!! like the many other have said(ish), try to take pleasure from the synapses as they are fire in real time, if you can do that then the feedback won’t really matter so much 