Naturally, with the development of computers in the 80s, this pattern progressively moved from paper to computers, where it spreads like a plague. An idea goes into a file, which is added to a folder. Folders are added to other folders ... and because I don't want to lose anything, the folders get backed-up on other computers and memory sticks. Sticks themselves become the focus, as files are brought home from work and taken back to work; the sticks get backed up on hard-drives. As computers age and die, the whole hard-drive is backed-up on a new computer, dragging old files along. So it goes, until decades of back-up files are duplicated with each new device, until copies pile on copies, unexamined and forgotten.
A week ago, I decided to collect the combined data from several computers and sticks in one place. The result: 135,000+ non-program files. Word files, excel, pictures, video, shortcuts ... and yes porn. In some cases, there are as many as 30 versions of a single file. These can be deleted, of course; but they're scattered in different combinations of folders, often having different actual names (as new ideas led me to start new files from scratch), not to mention different formats. I can't trust the latest date being the best version, either, since in some cases versions of a file were created on different computers, and often the later version was a disaster and the earlier is the one that must be kept.
I've boiled this down to 34,000+ since Thursday, basically by stripping every file from its parent folder and mashing them all into one single folder, where every individual file can be compared with others. I'm in the process of manually picking them over, upgrading documents, sometimes cutting and pasting their substance into other formats, deleting them or otherwise moving them off this computer altogether onto two other empty vessels (my newest computer, purchased a month ago, and a 4-terabyte extended drive).
It's certainly been interesting, what with being reacquainted with content I haven't seen in literally decades. The oldest things date back to 1998; the rest, scattered over the last 23 years, represents a life's work. I'm finding the process to be clensing, purposeful and helpfully clarifying as regards to work I hope to be doing in the next ten years. Perhaps other DMs don't think on those scales, but I know what I've done in the last ten years. In 2011, there was no wiki; no patreon; no sage abilities in the present sense; no automated character background generator; no books; no game con experience. Those things that did exist were smaller, less complex. It's impossible to look at my work from more than a decade again without a sense of wry, mocking superiority.
No sentimentality, however. Sentimentality is a booted foot stuck in mud, stopping a designer or artist from advancing. A designer must be an assassin. Projects that don't yield results, that don't lead to better ideas, need to be knifed through and kicked to the side. Nostalgia is a cloying, smothering whore, forever wanting attention and providing nothing new. I have no room for it. My computer's trashbin has progressively filled up and been gutted ruthlessly. That work, if it had any value at all, remains in my present-day habits and insight. Following this one last glance, it is better dead, gone and forgotten.
Of course, a lot made the cut. The hundred-thousand-plus repetitions and junk has yielded, so far, 5,255 files worth keeping. Just under a thousand relate to D&D. There are textbooks, audiobooks, songs, movies, documentaries, home pictures and films ... and yes porn. Not as much as you might think, however. I'm fairly picky.
I stumbled across a single picture that I saved from some site or other: it's called an adoptive emergent collaboration framework. I don't remember it, but doubtlessly I thought it might act as an organizational structure for describing game preparation. Apparently, I found it in late 2013, about the time I was struggling with how to write the advanced D&D guide that became How to Run. I often wander over sites discussing intergration in business, among computer programmers, managing institutions and such, because these fields spend considerable time searching for ergonomically-friendly methods for getting people to work together, while managing the unmanageable processes of design on a grand scale. Reading this material and reflecting upon its application for managing a role-playing game is useful for me. Over the decade, this kind of material and also proven to be a good source for writing blog posts.
Allow me to explain how these subjects fit into RPGs, specifically my D&D game.
Automation in D&D describes anything a die is rolled against, including programs I design for calculating encumbrance, experience or character backgrounds. Escalation, as I see it, describes the improvement of the game, the implementation of new ideas and approaches, that generates more information and ultimately requires more automation.
Moving clockwise, "Technology" in RPGs describes the use of tools in order to implement the game's meta-processes. Tool selection converts pencil and paper into computers, physical dice into other formats, the shape and design of the game table, the physical location of the DM with relation to players, means for transmitting information and so on. Integration includes the players' adjustment to the game system and to each other, particularly in getting everyone in a group on the same page with regards to what the rules are and how they enable the party's actions. Training describes the DM's responsibility for teaching the players how to run, what rules exist and how they're meant to facilitate play, and specifically what part of the rules can be "played," that meaning the wiggle-room that's been incoporated into those rules. Adoption presupposes the expected time the players will need to take up, follow and use either the tools or the game system, this being more than the system as it stands, but also new emergent ideas being integrated into the system as part of the aforementioned escalation. Finally, maintenance and upgrades reflect the results of integration, training and adoption, with the DM specifically returning to these various subjects and discussing them at length, even if they've been discussed before. After any game session, I always attempt to revise, or upgrade, the players perception of the ongoing game from my designing perspective, as much as possible. For example, by explaining that the monsters did this or didn't do that because I was adhering to policies or game rules that disallowed me from exploiting my superior knowledge as a DM, so that I ran those monsters as I perceived they would act as unknowing entities inside the system.
Next, "Governance." To govern is to conduct the action and affairs of a "thing;" in Latin, res publica translates literally as "the public thing." My D&D world must also be governed, which makes me the governor, or administrator. Therefore, best practices describes those points I spend time describing here when I talk about what a DM must do or what a DM shouldn't do. For example, a DM should follow the rules; decisions affecting the game should be discussed jointly with the players; no decision should EVER be made by fiat by the DM, who ought to be able to describe exactly why a particular ruling was made. "Because I'm the DM" or any version of that is not an acceptable answer. Guidelines are the examples I just gave: that rules apply to everyone, that the DM is not a monarch, that a thorough understanding of the rules is as much the DM's responsibility as the players, since the training being given in the previous circle should belay player ignorance about the rules as much as possible. Policies are clear statements of intent. The game is meant to be friendly, and thus no player-vs.-player. Persons should not behave impolitely towards other persons. No one rolls a die without prior notice given. The DM plays without a screen and to fudge is to cheat. That sort of thing.
The oversight team includes any outside entity willing to wade in and discuss the goings on. I describe what goes on in my game world on this blog, inviting the entire world to act as an oversight team. Unfortunately, most of the time, many would-be agents of correction fail to pay any attention to the policies, guidelines or best practices of the DM in this instance, or those reasons given for why such things exist, in order to ad hoc describe why they "feel" the game should be different. My best commentors, on the other hand, point out where I've failed to follow my own policies or practices ... these people are worth their weight in gold.
Finally in this circle, social service level agreements. Let's parse that out, since on the surface that looks utterly incompatible with D&D. A "social service" is an act aimed at promoting the welfare of other persons. An "agreement" is an accordance in opinion or feeling. Essentially, the DM accepts that the hard fact of the game cannot be allowed to contravene the harmony of the game WHERE an individual's need, in the opinion of the whole consensus, supercedes the need of the game.
As an example, once I had a player whose character died under extraordinary, near-gamebreaking conditions. The absurdness of the situation, as well as the unlikelihood of the death, coupled with the DM's general intention of introducing the circumstances, pushed probability levels of death into the 1 in 100,000 range. Additionally, the player character's body could not be recovered, though it was in fact pristine at the time of death (ie., not lost at sea, not crushed under rock). The matter was discussed at length. The player character was not restored. The party, including the player character's subordinate henchfolk, was given the opportunity to perform an extensive quest to restore the character; the quest was invented and pursued. The dead character was regained by the player. Welfare was granted and the party as a whole felt in harmony with what the results would have been either way, regardless, since failure was a possibility.
"Goals & Objectives" are not my own. This is hard for most DMs to understand. I am not the company, the players are the company. The party is the company. The party decides what goals they wish to pursue and I cause the game setting to give way to the party's designs or to push back with obstacles. I do this in accordance with the governance I've previously described. The player characters decide on which departments exist and which person fulfills the duties of those departments. The players decide who to hire as employees, which may be obtained in exchange for money (hirelings) or may be obtained through role-playing, generosity and integrity (followers). The customers consist of any entity in the game world that the players service through their deeds or their designs. For example, a "customer" includes a town that the players save from a dragon, and also members of the town that buy wood that the players cut down and ship there. Metrics are resolved through the complicated, detailed and multi-inclusive trading system that I've designed, as well as hundreds of other applicable rules, including combat rules of course. By pitting themselves against the metrics, or using the metrics to sustain their practices, the player character company empowers itself and attains its goals. This is the purpose of the game.
At last, "Organizational Culture." First and foremost, I've been talking about leadership off and on for weeks. This describes my philosophy towards the players, in providing them a serviceable game that I pursue with a sense of duty and honour. I want to run a successful and enjoyable game; and I want to give my players an experience in my game that surpasses the experience they receive from other games run by other DMs. I almost always receive feedback that tells me I'm doing that. Change management describes the coming and going of players, who enter the game and drop out; my duty is to immerse them into the existing game, training them in the rules, introducing them to guidelines and policies, helping them manage their information, encouraging the party to embrace them and make them part of the company, etcetera. These are a set of personal skills that take time to gather and are incredibly necessary for running a good game. They are also the thing most severely lacking when a DM is complained about.
Evangelists are zealous advocates for the game, talking up the game for newcomers, discussing the game among themselves ... not only in the capacity of the game itself, but specifically MY campaign. Encouraging evangelists among my players is a part of my capacity as DM to immerse new persons into becoming believers. Once they hear about the thing, then experience the thing themselves, they are willing converts when the thing benefits them directly. If my players talk down my game, it's impossible to bring in new people. Therefore, openness encourages the players to speak directly to me about their grievances, to feel those complaints are addressed and allowing them to see that legitimate complaints made WILL lead to adjustment in the game rules, even when those adjustments come at a great cost to me personally, in time, effort and even philosophical approach.
The last subject, mutually beneficial value, is the fact of players returning to the game each week without fail, without my having to hound them into showing up or being concerned that they won't. Knowing that my players will play, that they want to play, because they do not consider any other activity to be worth as much beneficial value to them, is the critical mass of game play I always want to reach. When I hear DMs complain about most of players not showing up, I must believe this is due to a lack of evangelists, management and leadership, and concommitantly all the other factors outlined on the post. Let me stress: ALL the other factors. Any factor here, if not addressed competently and with much respect, will sink a game world. The best game worlds will leave NOTHING out.
Scores of posts can (and have been) written on any of these factors. I will continue to address them, one by one. The next time I'm struggling to think of what to write today, I should pick one at random, ponder upon it and see the matter I haven't yet addressed, having to do with D&D. After all, sketching out which each means has been as much information management as the steady reducing of my computer's files.
Posts like this have me seeking advice. My GOAL is to make a better game for my players, even if my players generally do not care so much for the details. It’s important to me to always be looking for little improvements. This is the ego stepping in. One such improvement I made several years ago, and due to your example, was to institute a “stun” rule for combats. Most of my players were fine with it, just wanted to know the rules we were ALL playing under. Yet, my most committed player dislikes the stun rule. I have discussed it with him, but frankly his arguments against the rule have been lacking. I don’t say that with a hint of arbitrariness. He and the rest of my players have enjoyed my game now for almost ten years, but I do wonder where the line is on making rules. Is it purely democracy, where changes come from and/or go to the players and a majority yea or nay vote decides the rule? I do honestly want to avoid being the Monarch as you state, but is that more about being receptive to player grumblings? My players want a good game, of course, but it does seem that rule changes, from the books, come from me. Annnnnnd in the past I have stated that the rules in the books do not hold real power in leu of a potential improvement. That is, the players haven’t been able to count on the book rules to be a final say on an otherwise unresolved issue.
ReplyDeleteJomo,
ReplyDeleteI don't have the benefit of knowing why the player doesn't like the rule; it would help to know what class the player runs, or what other games; or exactly what the player's issue is. Some people are just prejudiced against change. I'll be honest, though: you can't define a player that resists change for insufficient reason as "committed." Perhaps you mean the player with the best attendance, or your best evangelist (except he doesn't accept decisions that have been implemented several years ago, because he's woefully stubbor) ... but he is definitely not committed to your game, your preferred system or even the other players, who embrace the change when he does not.
I don't truck with players who continue to show up and still bitch about a rule that's been in place for years. Consider how that attitude plays out in the workplace, where a single employee still carps about a policy that was changed years ago and which will never be restored. That employee brings down everyone's morale, because he WON'T MOVE ON. Any Human Resource professional would advise the steady removal of responsibility from that employee until he can be dismissed.
Obviously, your player isn't an employee. For me, however, that should mean he is MORE forgiving of something he doesn't like, not less.
Governing the game isn't democratic; YOU have to decide, based on your observations, what the party REALLY wants, regardless of what they say. I have done tests before where, to hammer home the point of a new rule, I've reinstalled the old rule for a session or two. If the new rule IS working, being faced with the old rule can be a tremendous enlightment. IF you're playing with my stun rules as I've written them, without the constant rolling of initiative every round, then see how they like going back to the slog of those initiative rolls and the meaninglessness of hit point damage round to round.
As well, Jomo, I don't know what OTHER rules you're using that might make those constant initiative rolls look attractive. I really can't know exactly what your game entails; or what rules you've made, or how you've adjudicated those rules.
Like you, my players can't hold up a DMG and say, "The rule says this!" HOWEVER, if my player DOES hold up a DMG and ask, "Why isn't this rule still in place," I can give them chapter and verse on when I used to play that rule, what went wrong with it, how it was undermining game play and why it needed fixing. Can you do that? Or are you just saying, "Because it's not the rule anymore"?
That is quite helpful.
ReplyDeleteMy "committed" player does have the best attendance, says nice things to other DMs we know, and does generally back my decisions around the table. He also knows the books up and down, and can help less knowledgeable players in a flash. In fact, I have criticized him for that as I want the others to do as much of their own work as is practical. I do agree that if a player cannot accept a rule that everyone else is fine with, then he or she needs to be dealt with. This player saves his complaints for when he and I are alone. I cannot make his complaints against the stun rule clear as he has yet to be clear himself. It seems to go against a fundamental truth that he finds with his definition of Hit Points. I am perhaps too sensitive to grumbling.
My 10 years running do not match up with a lifetime of doing so. Many of the important changes I have made, away from the books, have come from my experiences in an AD&D game of another grognard, who had played for 30 years as DM. He had amazing storylines and NPCs in the few years I played with him. The bones of his game were strong as he was able to boil away a lot of the chaff in the rules. However, the meat around those bones was rotten. He controlled action based on mood, fudged AND lied in game. I pride myself now on running a better game than he did, and recognizing less grumbling than that of his players. But better is not best, and so I will stay plugged into you among other founts. Trusting myself in trying the new or experimenting is a struggle I recognize now. Damned insecurities.