How to Run a Game (Part 24) - It's not just me

Facebook post used by permission (written by Jeah-François Vincent)

So many of the points I've addressed in this sequence of blog posts are present in the Facebook post...in a bad way.

Let's go through a few of them, one by one...

The group plays one game. We've already established the three way tension that plays a part on most game sessions. Different games pull on the narrative flow in different ways, and at different ties during the course of play. This can mean that the same group, with the same narrator, can have a very different play experience during a session if they play with one game system compared to another. Honestly, this isn't a totally bad thing, it's just a predictable thing... if you go for too long with the one game system then you end up in a bit of a creative rut, but it also allows everyone a bit more control over the flow of play because they know how and when the game will try to exert an impact. The horror that some players express when regarding two different editions of D&D show how much of a creative rut these player have found themselves in...they just can't imagine how to address the unexpected. Perhaps there's a control fantasy in their escapism. Personally, I prefer playing a few different games, because their varied rule systems promote different patterns of thinking. There's also the notion that different games do different things well, and sometimes one system has a really elegant way of handling something that the regular game doesn't. So it's usually easy to port ideas from various systems across to create an adaptable game that fits the play style of the group and the narrative being told. 

The narrator doesn't start on time. This one's a cardinal sin for me. Not respecting the liminal space of the designated shared imaginary escapism is asking for trouble. If the narrator doesn't focus the game session, the game session often won't be focused by the players. If the narrator starts late, this is tantamount to giving the players permission to show up late... and once players start showing up late the sanctity of the session is jeopardised... players start to miss sessions because their regularly scheduled escapism ends up being a regularly scheduled waiting game... then people stop showing up at all.   

The narrator railroads the group. Another big one. Players are taking part in these sessions for a bit of escapism, not to listen to a single member of the group play out their fantasies as a failed novelist. Sometimes the green-amber-red lights mean that certain players get pulled in so they don't dominate the game, but a healthy game always has a tension between the players, the narrator and the rules. If the characters have no protagonism in the situations that the players are moving through, why are we interested in their journey? Are we trying to win the different situations our characters are facing (a fairly gamist dominant agenda... and that's probably the closest to what I can imagine here)? Are we immersing ourselves in a world, perhaps akin to Assassin's Creed, where there is a predefined historical storyline that we are trying to uncover (perhaps akin to a simulationist agenda, where the simulation is the narrator's story...and only the narrator's story)? Are we trying to learn the story of the characters as they interact, make choices, and learn about the world around them (no, there's just no way I can fit this into a narrativist perspective based o what's been written)?

There's no input from the players. An hour of exposition, what the...??? This is clearly a case where the narrator doesn't care for the game system and is ignoring any input it might have, so why does he even bother with D&D? But the fact that he doesn't care for the input of the players is disgusting. I dont know who this person is, so I'm not insulting him as a person, but his actions are abominable. 

Outright mockery of the players when they go "off script". Just when we thought things couldn't get worse, the narrator actively denigrates players who don't specifically make choices he agrees with. Not only is he deprotagonising the characters, but he is actively deprotagonising the players. We're not even going with the illusion of choice here. There is a valid school of running games that is referred to as "illusionism"... basically it's where the narrator has a story in mind, and a specific end goal, and no matter what choices the characters make, they'll end up at that goal. However, the key to successful illusionism is making the players feel like they're in control. The choices should feel valid, they should have some kind of impact on the ongoing story, at least in the short term, even if the long term narrative goals don't waver. In this case, we've got the three way tension, but the narrator is threatening to cut the rope of the players if they pull things the wrong way. This kind of selfishness is not what a good game session aspires to.   

The narrator will not allow other games. I've already suggested that the narrator may simply be familiar with D&D, but with the other elements at play, there feels like something more to the situation. The narrator's demonstrated selfishness and dominance in the group, indicates that he may feel threatened by games that he doesn't know. He's got his little power-trip niche, and can't accept the idea that other games might limit his influence in the session.   

There's more to the story than just this post, but it's an interesting one to analyse.

This is the kind of situation that turns people off D&D, and RPGs in general. However, for a lot of folks, this is the hobby, they don't know any different. It's a bit like the proverbial "Stockholm Syndrome", where participants come to love something they don't enjoy, because they don't know that it can be better. On top of this there may be occasional moments where, despite the odds, these players experience immersion or flow, or have a moment of roleplaying satori where everything comes together... if they get these moments they might think everyone only gets them rarely, and may believe that their narrator is better than others when it comes to achieving the sublime moments when roleplaying becomes akin to art and awakens something within.