What Makes Me Say Yes as a Distributor
Updated: Oct 28
From the outset, it's been part of Cheeky Parrot Games' market strategy to extend our catalogue beyond our own published titles by distributing games from other small publishers and independent designers. These games make a meaningful contribution to the variety of our range. We probably wouldn't publish a word game, a party game, or a game exclusively for two players, for example, but Kiitos, A Matter of Taste, and Lindyhop have all done well for us recently.
It's fair to say our selection is carefully curated, though. A proposed game needs to fit our existing range in both price and presentation. Having cleared those hurdles, it must be a game I can confidently and enthusiastically recommend to retailers.
Recently, I've had to decline three proposals from designers seeking distribution for their self-published games. Of course I'm not interested in publicly criticising individual creators, but I do think there are useful lessons for anyone considering self-publishing. It is best to take this information on board before spending your money and ending up with hundreds of games you discover you cannot move by yourself. So, with identifying details omitted, here are three examples of the issues that can make an otherwise promising product difficult for a distributor to take on.
1. Overproduction
Game A was a casual card game that could have been packaged in a relatively narrow box, just wide enough to accommodate two generous decks of cards. Instead, it came in a two-piece, stand-up box, with a spot-varnished cover, a bespoke cardboard insert, and two booklets of 20+ pages each, printed on unnecessarily heavy stock.
These choices all add to manufacturing costs, helping to explain an RRP of $50. They also increase the game's weight and volume, which matters because freight is a real cost for retailers as well as distributors.
Consider the retailer's perspective. Two copies of one of Cheeky Parrot's smallest titles, such as Granny Wars or Ulterior Design, could occupy roughly the same space in a shipping carton but almost double the shelf space as one copy of Game A. Those two smaller games would generate about the same total revenue at the wholesale prices involved, while offering customers two different choices.
A more elaborate production isn't automatically better. Every additional feature should justify its cost, and the question isn't simply whether you can afford to manufacture your game. It's whether the finished product offers enough value at a price the market will accept.
There was another concern with Game A: from its credits, I wasn't confident the artwork wasn't AI-generated. Clear information about who created a game's visual identity, and how, is increasingly important. Many in the board game industry, including Cheeky Parrot, are saying no to AI artwork.
2. An unfinished product
I brought Game B to my regular gaming group, and the response was consistently negative. We found the gameplay unsatisfying, and questions quickly arose that the brief rules didn't answer.
The rulebook was a single sheet folded into a booklet that opened from the left, suggesting that enough checks weren't made before manufacture.
The cover artwork was another challenge. Whatever the merits of a game once it's on the table, its presentation needs to give prospective customers a reason to pick it up so they can decide whether they might want to buy it.
I have some sympathy here: I created the artwork for my own first game, too...and it still makes me cringe! Self-publishing involves making decisions about where to spend limited resources, and doing everything yourself can seem like an obvious way to keep costs down. But artwork, graphic design, and rules editing are distinct skills, and not every designer is competent at all of them.
A game doesn't need lavish production or perfect illustrations to succeed, but it does need to feel finished: the rules should be clear, the components should be fit for purpose, and the presentation should suit its intended audience.
3. A good game with the wrong economics
Game C was the most frustrating of the three, because my gaming group and I enjoyed playing it. Had I encountered it earlier in its development, I might even have considered publishing it myself.
Instead, the designer manufactured 1,000 copies in New Zealand. That choice has some advantages, like not being at the mercy of currency fluctuations, but it also imposes constraints on the finished product. Sure, Kiwis like to support products designed and manufactured here but with so many choices in this space, the price and quality have to be commensurate with games manufactured abroad.
The box was a folded, die-cut affair made of thick, glossy card. It did the job, but was awkward to close again after opening. The cards had nicely rounded corners and were well cut, but their construction didn't inspire confidence about how well they'd withstand repeated play by the families the game was designed for. When I started out, it was said that there are no playing card manufacturers in Australasia and I don't think that situation has changed. A proper playing card is palpably superior.
The game also lacked a barcode, and there was no shrink wrap or sealing sticker. These details might seem minor, but they can affect how readily a product can be processed, displayed, and sold through conventional retail channels.
Finally, the proposed RRP was $45, despite the game being comparable in size to some of our smallest titles, which sell between $22-25.
The irony is that the gameplay was promising, but a distributor has to consider the complete package, not just whether a game is enjoyable. It always sounds mercenary when I say it, but the first consideration for me is always whether I think the game will sell well at the proposed price and whether that price allows everyone to make a sufficient profit. Manufacturing choices, component durability, retail readiness, and price point all need to work together.
Local manufacture can be a worthwhile choice, but it's important to investigate the available options and their costs before committing to a production run. A thousand copies is a substantial investment, and discovering afterwards that the resulting product is difficult to price competitively can be an expensive lesson.
So, what should you consider before approaching a distributor?
These three examples illustrate different problems, but they point towards the same principle: a game needs to work as a complete retail product, not just as a game.
Before committing to production or approaching a distributor, consider the following:
Price: Have you worked backwards from a realistic retail price, allowing for manufacturing, freight, storage, distributor margins, and retailer margins?
Packaging: Is the box the right size and construction for its contents, or are you paying to manufacture and ship unnecessary space?
Components: Will they withstand repeated play by your intended audience? Cards primarily in the players' hands have to stand up to more abuse than cards that mainly sit on the table.
Presentation: Does the artwork appeal to the people most likely to buy and/or play your game? Are the credits clear? Have you considered colour blindness and presbyopia?
Development: Have people outside your immediate circle tested the game? Are the rules clear to someone who hasn't heard you explain them i.e. have you blind tested the game? It's not enough to direct people to a website or video.
Retail readiness: Is the product properly labelled, sealed, and barcoded for ordinary retail handling? Take the prototype to a games store and place it on a shelf. Does it pop?
Distribution fit: Does the game complement the distributor's existing catalogue? Can they sell it enthusiastically at a price that works for everyone?
Ticking all these boxes does not guarantee a distribution deal. A distributor may already have a similar game or take a different view of the market. A refusal isn't necessarily a verdict on a game's quality or its creator's abilities.
But doing this homework before manufacturing a large print run can save money, improve the finished product, and open up more opportunities.
As a small publisher, I want to see independent designers succeed. Some of the most interesting games come from people willing to take a chance on their own ideas. The best way to give those ideas a chance in the market is to consider the entire journey from designer to player, including the often-overlooked realities of getting a game onto a retailer's shelf.
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