Story Beats

One of the things I’ve learned from GMing (both by doing it well and by doing it… not so well) is that overplanning is more likely to backfire and hurt your game than it is to help it. The first campaign I ever wrote and ran was definitely a success, but I was guilty of what was called “railroading” my players, meaning I had set them on a pre-determined path and didn’t really let them stray from it, comparable to a lot of video games (which allow for interactivity, but in which the main plot line is locked in no matter what  the player does). I wrote that campaign to death, not allowing a lot of breathing room for my players.

Did they enjoy it? Yes, they did. But could I have given them more agency? Absolutely. The only reason that it was successful is due to what I’ve come to think of as the Orient Express Effect: when you are riding a train, you know exactly where you’re going to end up and likely how you’re going to get there, but if the train is interesting, if the scenery is bewitching, and if the other passengers are engaging to talk to, the riders won’t really mind that they’re being shoved down one path to one destination. The fact that The Scion Chronicles, that first campaign, turned out so well, is entirely because of this (which was about 50/50 good instincts/luck on my part).

What I’ve learned is that I shouldn’t script out everything that I think my players are going to do; I shouldn’t play god and try to imagine every possible scenario and then get ahead of each of them. What I should do is define the major story beats of an arc or session and angle to hit those if possible, but otherwise just sort of let go and flow with the players. I’m getting much better at this with Blades in the Dark, which is a system that thrives on improvisation and specifically not planning things out beforehand. I’m also running a pre-written module for Dungeons and Dragons, and I’m falling into the same trap of over-preparing and I honestly think it’s making the experience a bit flat – maybe not for my players, but for me. It’s harder to play Yes And when there’s a script that someone else has already written out for you and which, if you deviate too far from, could ruin the story pretty badly.

Story beats are different from scenes; they’re the dots that we connect to create a plot. It’s not every single small thing that happens, but, rather, the handful of the biggest definable moments of action and change. This could be things like, “the party takes the job from the old woman,” “one of the members threatens a guard,” or “they decide not to steal the painting because they don’t want to betray their new contact.” These should always be choices that the players freely make, never ones that they are cornered into or that they feel they have no choice but to do.

The biggest different between writing a story or screenplay or novel and running a game comes down to the agency of the participants. As a reader, we have no real say in how a story turns out and we are just along for the ride. A game, however, is a living, breathing thing that the GM or any of the players can change in a heartbeat. This is what makes GMing so difficult, yet so rewarding. This adaptability is a challenge, but it creates the most engaging of experiences .

 

The Joy and Terror of Running a Game

In equal measure, I love and dread running a tabletop role playing game for my friends. GMing a session of a game is a bit like a four hour long improv performance and if you don’t do a good job of it, you ruin everyone’s fun. So, you know, no pressure? Real talk: I have terrible performance anxiety/stage fright for the days leading up to a game.

Of course, the moment I get started, I immediately have fun and – so far – things always go great. I have never had more than minor hiccups in the games that I have run, and those were all easy to fix or fib my way through. Running a game leaves me elated, high on the joy of telling a collaborative story with people, which ends up with me being energized for several hours afterward (while also wearing me out and making me want to retreat into my introverted shell).

How, I wonder, can GMing a TTRPG stir up both negative and positive emotions, one right after the other? And why can’t I empirically see how well things have always gone in the past, and stop worrying about screwing up? My guess is this is related to impostor syndrome, which I suuuuuuper struggle with on a regular basis. And, which (if interviews with successful authors has taught me anything), apparently might never go away. So I have to learn how to shack up with impostor syndrome, ease its worries to the best of my ability, and try to prove it wrong at every turn.

Comic via xkcd

Putting myself in a position of authority immediately causes impostor syndrome to target me and attack. And yet I keep doing it! Co-running a writing critique group, leading critique meetings, leading a small writing support/accountability group, teaching workshops about writing, running games… why do I do it to myself? What’s with all the self-imposed torture? I suppose that I’m trying to prove my anxiety-ridden brain wrong (which is not really how anxiety works, but that’s another issue for another day).

I genuinely believe that we should try to do the things that scare us because they often turn out to yield the most satisfying results when we succeed… or even when we fail!

What is something that scares you, but that you have tried to conquer by diving in? Or have you not yet faced it down? What is your greatest worry that is keeping you from trying it?

Mischief Managed

About once a year, I drive myself entirely crazy by working on a costume for a few weeks. Usually, it’s for the Maryland RennFest and this year was no exception. My D&D DM and good friend Moira and I decided to do adapted version of characters from the D&D livestream Critical Role. Moira took on the ambitious design of the lavender-skinned Tiefling Blood Hunter, Mollymauk, and I made the reticent blue-skinned Tiefling Clreric, Jester. We decided NOT to do body paint for a day at Faire because we don’t hate ourselves.

There are some things I wish I’d done differently, but after 7 hours of hand painting that dress, I’m pretty content with how everything turned out.

 

Character Work: Digging Deep

A story without a good character is nothing. It is nigh-unreadable. It is uninteresting and it will not leave an impression on its audience. A lot of the other rules of fiction writing are negotiable (especially in flash or micro fiction, but that’s another thing entirely), but without people that we want to see either succeed or suffer, a story isn’t worth reading.

One of the tools that I have found to be the most helpful when it comes to character work is actually tabletop role playing. It’s a mix of character writing, combat tactics, creative problem solving, and improv acting. My Novel in Six Months group recently did a one shot game with original characters in the system Don’t Rest Your Head, in order to challenge ourselves to get in a character’s headspace.

There is something about being forced to think like this character in real time that creates a kind of intimacy with them that doesn’t exist when writing and re-writing. The spontaneity breaks down walls of reservation and over-thinking; it forces you to make a gut check and just go with your instinct. And now that you’ve reacted, you’ve said something, and you’re committed to an organic, evolving character.

I’ve been playing in a weekly Dungeons and Dragons game since mid-April 2017 with the same character, meaning I’ve spent well over 200 hours living inside of her head. That’s no small feat! Recently, another player retired his character (my elf’s best friend in-game) and introduced a new one. Between games, I took a week to reflect on how this would affect my elf, a loner who’d only recently opened her heart up to new companions Since then, I’ve sent her into a rather self-destructive spiral of poor life choices.

A popular D&D stream recently had a beloved character die, and I think it shook the fan community up pretty badly. For me, though, I think it set me free; I’ve decided to push my elf to a breaking point, where she can go out in a blaze of glory, protecting her friends. I’ve even got a back up character fairly well planned out and discussed with my Dungeon Master. I think I’m ready to finish up her character arc in the near future. It’s been great to spend time with her, but it’s about time to move on.

Gatekeepers Part 2

Last week, I was talking a little but about the phenomenon of Gatekeeping in the nerd community and took a little time to break down what that means and where it tends to come from. The long and short of it is that it is generally insecure white men who act as Gatekeepers, clinging to some illusion of power and insisting that they’re keeping their hobby pure and free from meddlesome outsiders.

Come on. That just sounds gross, doesn’t it?

This concept of what Gatekeeping means in nerd culture can wrap around to the newfound popularity of tabletop role playing games, in large part thanks to streams and podcasts like Critical Role, The Adventure Zone, One Shot, and Campaign. There is a terrible fear in the Gatekeeper that now so many Others will show interest in The Thing that the creators will go and change The Thing to appease these newcomers, who the Gatekeeper thinks are not “real fans.” They think these Others will show up and ruin The Thing that the Gatekeeper loves.

There were a lot of complaints about Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition because a lot of the play was streamlined to make it more accessible to new players. I cannot possibly understand how this is, in any way, a bad thing. Just because more people now enjoy The Thing, it doesn’t suddenly delete The Thing from existence or erase the Gatekeeper’s memories of enjoying it in the past. In this case, the Gatekeeper can go play with 4th Edition and battle maps and can get over himself.

The Gatekeeper fears the Other, often the SJW (Social Justice Warrior, a pejorative term for feminists who seek diversification and inclusiveness in many spaces where traditionally there hasn’t been any), and that she will show up in his hobby and, through her influence, “ruin The Thing.” In fact, many believe that SJWs are out there pretending to like The Thing just to ruin it for others.

Here’s the thing: this SJW does not exist. She is not gunning for the Gatekeeper’s Thing. She is not out to ruin it. She wants to enjoy it as well, though perhaps the things she would enjoy about it might be different.

Gatekeepers, a word: if you genuinely believe that more people liking or engaging with your The Thing is bad, if you think a bigger group having fun is somehow making the world a worse place, you are the problem. There is no wrong way to enjoy The Thing and no one is “ruining” your hobby. I’ve heard horror stories of gaming groups mercilessly torturing their Other players (lying to them, having their RPG characters raped or killed, making inappropriate remarks or “jokes” until they are driven from the groups). If you don’t want to play with certain people, just don’t. Do your thing at your table and don’t try to, in turn, ruin someone else’s experience. Yes, “ruin.” Gatekeepers can do it, too.

No one gets to decide who is allowed to enjoy The Thing. It’s out in the world for everyone. So get off your high horse and go enjoy The Thing, okay?

Wil Wheaton is right: don’t be a dick.

Gatekeepers Part 1

So apparently D&D Gate is a thing now? And it seems aptly named, because it’s a question of the old guard of the game playing the role of Gatekeeper and trying to shut out new players and other people interested in role playing (whether by playing or watching streams). And you know what? It’s gross. The concept of who is or isn’t a “real fan” is so misguided and I’m going to try and lay out some thoughts about that.

Gatekeeping, as a phenomenon,  is nothing new. It’s often a white man who, having felt persecuted in his childhood and teen years, dives into something traditionally considered nerdy, and embraces that hobby or thing as a massive part of his personality. He comes to define himself a great deal by his attachment to The Thing. He wants to become an authority on The Thing and often spends money on related merchandise and a lot of time learning obscure information about it. Without his place at the top of the hierarchy of The Thing’s fans, he feels lost.

His self-perceived value as a person is intrinsically linked to his status as an authority and ultimate fan and he guards this jealously. He will meet the challenge of other fans of the The Thing in a sort of contest, always seeking to be the biggest fan. This is messy to begin with, but it’s the possessiveness of the The Thing that drives him to bad behavior.

When people who fall into the category of “Other” (women, PoC, queer people), sometimes from the groups that the man felt persecuted by in his youth, want to engage with The Thing, the Gatekeeper appears as if summoned. “You’re not a real fan unless,” “Name three things about The Thing,” “I bet you’ve never actually played/read/seen The Thing.” These are all the rally cry of the Gatekeeper, whose sole passion is now to keep the Other out of his hobby. As a “true fan,” he feels like he has a right to decide who does and does not deserve to engage with The Thing.

To be continued next week…

 

On Hobbies

It was only a year ago that I decided to get back into tabletop role playing games. I’d dabbled in college, played some Call of Cthulhu, quite a bit of Shadowrun. In the years in between, I’d played a few pickup games with friends and tried and failed to run a Dragon Age game before two of the members got into a massive fight and the group parted ways.

Last April, I went on Meetup and joined a group about to start a Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition game. Foolishly, I decided that driving an hour each way to this game every Sunday would be no big deal (I was wrong, but it’s worth it). But I was so nervous. While I’d personally never been met with any problems tabletop gaming as a woman, a lot of that had been because I played with people who I already knew well. And I’d heard some horror stories about the sexism that women faced in what still often felt like a boys’ club of a hobby.

Here I was, about to join up with a group made up of five men and myself, and essentially play pretend with some strangers from the internet. Maybe not my smartest decision. Lucky for me, the group turned out to be overwhelmingly good (the one troublemaker ended up quitting) and we’ve even replaced him with another woman, so the table’s a little more balanced.

Since starting that Sunday afternoon campaign, I’ve run my own mini campaign in a homebrew game, I’m currently GMing a Blades in the Dark campaign that meets somewhat irregularly, I’m about to start another irregular D&D game with friends, and I also play in an online D&D game that meets every other Sunday night. Is that maybe a little too much gaming? Perhaps. But this hobby brings me so much joy that it’s hard to argue with that.

Dear reader, what hobby do you have or would you like to pursue. If you’re not giving it much of your time right now, what is standing in the way of doing that? And how can you make more time to chase after something that makes you happy?

Finding Your Zen

Don’t get me wrong, writing is soothing to me, but it can be kind of high pressure. Not entirely like an athlete, it’s a matter of ongoing practice and consistent performance if you want results. Sometimes, it’s what I do to unwind. Sometimes, though, I just need to put on Food Network and do something relatively mindless with my hands.

Lately, I’ve been getting back in touch with my artsy-craftsy side. My D&D DM arranged for a mini painting night at a brewery near where we play (Mully’s in Prince Frederick, MD, and if you haven’t gone, definitely check them out!) and, since I’d never done it before, I decided to haul ass down there on a weeknight (two and a half hours in traffic UGH) and try out what I knew might be a new hobby.

Well, I was right about the hobby bit. I really enjoyed hunching over and squinting a bunch and painting my first mini. I definitely made a lot of rookie mistakes with the way I approached the black sections, but one of the other players/painters, Brian, really gave me some great pointers.

I tried my second mini a few nights later at home and definitely improved by leaps and bounds! I only had a handful of paint colors, including a bright turquoise aqua, that I managed to muddle down to a deep green for the cloak. I found it so completely comforting and relaxing to do for about two hours that I feel like it’s a way I can use to deal with anxiety.

I find that the best things for my daily moderate anxiety (thanks to a traumatic event in July 2016) are those that keep my hands and mind busy, but aren’t too stressful. Sometimes video games are great for this, but sometimes the pressure to achieve something in combat can be a bit much and I need something more mellow.

I also am trying cross stitching for the first time (seriously, anyway, I’ve dabbled before) to make a present for a friend for the holidays. That, it turns out, is also very soothing. Cross stitching and a glass of wine while listening to D&D podcasts is really fantastic. I had a pretty high anxiety day yesterday and was finally able to calm down in the evening once I started to stitch. It’s no wonder art therapy is used so widely with patients with depression or PTSD.

 

That Tabletop Life

Send help. I’ve gone from enjoying tabletop role playing games to being absolutely  head-over-heels in love with them. I’ve dug in deep and found so much passion for this strange and wonderful hobby.

I’ve played tabletop games before – probably starting around 2005 – and always enjoyed the experience. I’ve been lucky enough to be in some amazing one shots (self-contained adventures that play out in one session) like the ridiculous Author One Shots in the Call of Cthulhu system, in which everyone played as a famous writer in a survival horror setting; I once went with Dr Seuss and only spoke in rhyming couplets. I’ve also played in some longer campaigns in the magic-plus-cyberpunk Shadowrun system as well as in Elysium, a system built from scratch by some friends.

A few months ago, I joined a D&D group of strangers that I found on meetup and those Sunday afternoon games have become a wonderful part of my weekly routine. I still play in one shots from time to time, using Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition or Pathfinder.

I’ve also stepped up and taken on a massive project myself: writing and running a wholly original long-form campaign. I’m using the Elysium system that my friends built and taking their Immortal Legacy fantasy world that they created as the setting for a story that I’ve penned. This was my first time running more than a one-shot game and it has been an undertaking an a half so far. I’ve run character creation and a prologue demo battle as well as the first two sessions (of an anticipated ten sessions).

Playing and GMing (being the Game Master) are wildly different experiences. While playing is potentially immersive and can be loads of easy-going fun and hours of, essentially, improv, running a game involves a lot of juggling! Acting out the NPCs (Non Player Characters that inhabit the world), fighting as multiple enemies that challenge the players, trying to steer the party down the path of the main plot while also giving them agency to do what they want.

There is something about GMing that leaves me feeling absolutely elated. And I’ve come to realize that it’s because I’m sharing my creativity with people who are enjoying it. Writing/running a campaign subverts the traditional pathways to publication/public consumption by allowing a writer to immediately share their creation with an audience that is willing and ready to engage with that story. It is a challenge to write something with branching story lines, knowing that your players can completely change what you had planned in an instant. But it is also incredibly fulfilling to give this gift to a group of people who are excited to play along with you.

And this is a form of play that is not like anything else. It’s collaborative storytelling at its finest. Tabletop role-playing games encourage adults to use their imaginations in ways that, for years, we have been discouraged from doing. It’s a big improv game and lets people explore characters, problem-solving, and emotional investment in something that is team-oriented. Creating and running a game is exhausting, but it is also incredibly rewarding.