Foreword

It should be no secret that I consider Dungeon Mastering to be an art.  The underlying creative process described on this late post fits perfectly into writing, composition or design, occupations that are unquestionably "artistic."  Yet even in 1979, the editor of the original DMG, Mike Carr, resisted the notion, writing,

"If you consider the aspect of experimentation, the painstaking effort of preparation and attention to detail, and the continuing search for new ideas and approaches, then Dungeon Mastering is perhaps more like a science — not always exacting in a literal sense, but exacting in terms of what is required to do the job well."

This is a familiar, criminal misinterpretation of "science," one we see everyday in the media and online.  Science is a systemic exercise that gathers and organizes knowledge from existing conditions.  Science studies things that already exist; please name the pre-existing phenomenon that role-playing "studies."  There isn't one.  With the statement above, Carr does nothing more than emphasize that he is an uneducated, ignorant hack, purporting to create a controversy where none exists.  D&D is not preparing for an experiment — it is creating something out of thin air so it can be presented in the game.  We're not searching for a new game approach that already exists in the physical world, or questioning the fundamental nature of knowledge or reality; we are creating game rules and narratives.  And please don't get me started on the semantic disaster perpetrated by Carr's need to cram "exacting" into the argument, manufacturing a dualism between "science" and "D&D."

A better foreword could read,

Dungeon Mastering challenges the individual to take what they know of human activity and literature, coupled with their ability to conceptualize a fantastical, fictional space, and convey that an imaginary yet tangible setting, so that others are able to see and imagine themselves functioning practically within that setting.  The dungeon master's presentational skill at conveying this setting is of highest importance.  The DM must be able to inspire others, through description, gesture and passion, to envision the same game world the DM imagines.  Given the awareness this requires — insight into how something needs to be described, resourcefulness in creating further details spontaneously, discernment between what is important and what's not, ingenuity, wisdom of one's fellow human beings and good horse sense about what will and will not motivate players — it is impossible not to view dungeon mastering as an Art.

DMing is a labour, not only of love, but in the tenacity needed to assimilate tens of thousands of details and principles well enough that they can be disgorged and argued when the moment demands.  This book alone contains 239 pages of description, tables, tools and details that would swamp a 3rd year humanities student if the final exam demanded a thorough knowledge of all that has been included.  The good DM needs to know this material cold; this means long afternoons of reading, and long nights of burning the midnight oil in order to assemble the ingredients that will make the next day's running memorable. 

Yet whatever the effort, the reward is worth ten times the cost.  This is an opportunity that few persons will ever obtain — the chance to earn tremendous respect from one's peers; to become the source of both enjoyment and opportunity; and to bestow experiences that both friends and strangers may remember all of their lives.  We will find ourselves in a position of judgment; but through fairness, reason and empathy, it is ours not only to settle disputes and bring tolerance, but to show others how to do this both in the game and in their everyday lives.  As we teach ourselves to manage our players, we teach ourselves how to be better people, with forbearance, kindness and self-sacrifice.

It is not easy to be more creative; or commit ourselves to an effort that may cause us to fall flat on our face.  It is no mean feat to run a game world every weekend, so that every Friday evening and every Saturday afternoon is spent pouring over pencil scratchings and books rather than partying or lounging in the sun.  We may question time and again why we do it; we may feel from time to time that the task is thankless; but when the players appear like clockwork, week in and week out, talking animatedly, spreading out their papers and dice, waiting for the moment when we will give our word that the running is about to start, we will know why we dungeon master.

Because it rocks our worlds.