Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Honest. I Don't Know Why I Have to Write these Posts from Time to Time, but Feel Free to Skip this One if You'd Rather Wait until I Get Back to Writing about Teaching DMing

Undertaking the task of teaching someone how to play D&D, who never has, requires the courage of one's convictions.  To write anything important, one must experience the matter at hand, one must gather evidence and then come to a conclusion, even if others may not agree or approve.  It's not possible to teach something from any other position.

I have many definite opinions about how to play D&D.  I've been doing this a long time and during that time, I haven't "dabbled."  From my introduction, I fell so hard in love with the game that I threw myself into hours of play every week.  When I was given the books for Christmas in 1979, I read them cover to cover.  And then I read them again ... and went on reading them regularly, over and over, examining every line, for the next twenty years.  In and around that time, I began rewriting them, which I continue to do until this day.

I disagree strongly with many commonly-held beliefs that people embrace, which have in turn become standard within the D&D community.  Many of the things I despise are absolutely cherished far and wide.  Modules.  DM screens.  Pregenerated characters and pro-forma character sheets.  D&D as a tournament.  Background stories.  Official adventuring.  It's a long, and in my mind, a sordid list.

Were I to write a book teaching someone how to DM, I wouldn't pay lip service to these things.  I wouldn't recommend that the reader of the book try running a one-off campaign.  I wouldn't suggest they should run dungeons for awhile until they have enough experience to run the outdoors, or a town.  I don't accept the argument that a new DM needs to walk before he or she runs.  I believe in making big mistakes and learning from them, not in taking tiny nibbles for fear of making a big mistake.

That said, crash courses are, in my opinion, failing to teach well.  I think most would imagine that teaching a new person how to DM would amount to a simple pamphlet, a mere 64 pages.  After all, what's there to know?  It's not like DMing is a difficult thing to do, is it?  It's not like there's a lot of nuance, or creativity involved, right?  No, oh no.  Let's slap 32 pages together, hit the high points and get on with playing!  After all, that's what this is all about, isn't it?  Playing.  Mustn't waste our time with details and actually learning how to do something.

JB and I went back and forth yesterday fairly hard.  No big deal.  We've done that two dozen times or more since our association.  He sells the popular model, I kick hell out of him, he compromises, I compromise ... he thinks clearer, I think clearer.  It's not the conflict that matters; it's the value that comes from the conflict.  People who fear conflict; who worry that conflict might create hard feelings; who hesitate before pulling the trigger, or who back away when voices rise and disagreement takes hold ... these are not people who have the courage of their convictions.  They're more concerned with how everyone feels than they are with FIXING the problem.

JB got me started on this project with the acknowledgement that (a) there are a great many people who have been left to flouder, unaided, with regards to DMing this game; and (b) that "there's a lot of bad D&D being played right now."  JB jumped back after saying that, taking out the word "bad," but I won't.  There is a lot of bad.  It's bad that was taught, it's bad that was perpetuated, it's bad that's been overlooked and excused and even defended under the banner of "fun." 

But what you think is bad and what I think is very different.  Most think "bad" D&D is that which isn't fun, or isn't played well, or doesn't work.  I think that all D&D that isn't "incredible" and "great" is, by definition, less than what it could be.  And that which is less, is bad.

As a teacher, I'm not interested in teaching people how to play "okay" D&D.  Or hobby-form D&D.  I want to teach people how to play fucking amazing D&D.  Not that people reading the book will.  They won't, because they won't listen to what I tell them.  They won't accept what I say as true.  They'll find excuses to cut down the amount of work or make concessions or otherwise act abusively towards their players or like simpering panderers.

I can't help that.  What I can do is make sure that the person reading my book who has the potential to be great won't be let down by my half-assing the work.  Out there, there are thousands of young souls who find reading and self-discovery a breeze, who can't get enough learning ... and can't find a single gawddamned book that'll tell them the hard details they must know to do this thing well.

The reason I write posts offering pedantic details on why certain phrases and word choices led to the demise of D&D through internal dissatisfaction and selfish author entitlement is because I know people are going to disagree with me.  This is the point in my writing it.  It's not a tremendous shock when someone doesn't "get it."  Or thinks I'm "going overboard."  I'm arguing things on this blog that no one argues.  That take a position that no one takes.  And because of that I have to dredge up every ounce of evidence and proof that I can muster, pointing at the failure of this thinking, or that belief, or this other practice.  Because apart from what I experience personally at my gaming table, I rarely find good, solid evidence of someone playing well.

Recently, JB has described his running of Castle Ravenspire ... explained in his first post, here.  The story follows here and here.  An epilogue has been promised, not available on writing this line.  For the traditionalist, it's as good an account as you're ever likely to find.  It hits all the right buttons, rings all the bells, catches all the brass rings.  And I'd be as impressed as hell, if it wasn't that I encountered play of this quality forty years ago.

And that's a problem for me.  If you told me that hey, you'd just made and released the film Escape From New York with a young Kurt Russell, I'd agree that it was a pretty fun movie and that I'd enjoyed it.  But I think I'd notice it was made forty years ago.  And that in film, there's a lot that's been released since, and the bar is a damn bit higher for a good movie than when I was 18 and cheap set pieces were good enough.  Understand.  I'm not saying that because I'm old and jaded, I'm not that impressed.  I'm saying that because I'm still conscious and aware of what's going on RIGHT NOW, I'm not nearly as blown away by a 1982 film, or a 1983 module, as I used to be.  For you readers out there old enough to have been 18 in 1982, can you imagine what it would have been like to see John Wick Parabellum then, the exact movie recently released?  Or even something more benign like Nobody?  omg.  What would it have been like to watch Infinity War, all 5+ hours, in a theatre in 1982, exactly as it appears today.

Fuck Star Wars.  I mean, seriously.  Release Mad Max Fury Road, as is, head to head with The Empire Strikes Back and the latter's theatres are empty.  Tumbleweeds.  I get that because I'm not old.  I see the world through new eyes, not old ones.

Where are the D&D equivalents?  Fucking critical role?  Seriously?  JB's Ravenspire looks stunning and amazing next to the dreck that's new.  Because for D&D, this is where the bar is.  On the ground.  Under it.

If we're going to discuss writing a book teaching new entrants how to DM, we've got to start by ditching the old garbage arguments from 40 years ago and raising that bar more than a little.  We can't have our nose in the dirt forever.

8 comments:

  1. Well that's the problem. Either people are new to the game and haven't had the time to learn, or they are old and want to relive 'the glory days' of their youth, not really trying to improve exactly because they learned the game when they were children and are overcome with nostalgia.

    Personally my games are rarely amazing. I've never considered myself a good DM because I've experienced and know what a good game can be, but at least I'm trying new things in the hope of getting to that amazing game.

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  2. William Strunk (of Strunk and White's Elements of Style, which should be first on your shelf, but is not as evidenced by our serial comma debate a few weeks ago) made my favorite admonishment about learning, which I always keep close to the top of my head, "When you don't know how to pronounce a word, say it loudly. When you don't know how to pronounce a word, say it loudly." (Strunk always stated his rules twice when speaking, but not when writing.)

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  3. I'm sure if I had a copy, I'd see that he didn't get everything wrong.

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  4. The “epilogue” is posted…for the interested.

    My family went to go see the new Top Gun movie last night. It was wonderful, breathtaking. My wife suggested maybe we watch the original with the kids, skipping past anything terribly “inappropriate.” I said no, mainly because they wouldn’t be missing anything.

    See, I’ve seen the original Top Gun about a zillion times (we owned it on VHS in my youth and we often simply had re-watched videos playing in the background while doing other things…like playing D&D). It’s ‘okay,’ but it’s overly sentimental and paltry (by comparison) and really only of interest to a very small segment of today’s population. The kids wouldn’t get anything out of it. Hell, all the highlights that detail the backstory imperative to the sequel are CUT INTO THE NEW FILM. You don’t need to watch the original AT ALL to understand the context of Top Gun Maverick.

    So I get what you’re talking about. On the other hand there are some films that beat the hell out of their sequels, in terms of story, direction, and acting (if not special effects). Clash of the Titans comes to mind. With regard to these, I ONLY show my kids the originals, not the crappy updates and reboots.

    Progress is good. But sometimes progress is confused with capitalism…trading on the idea that “new” actually means “improved” and thus means “worth purchase.”

    What your selling, Alexis, IS new AND improved. It is progressive.

    I just don’t hate seeing things go to waste. Recycling and repurposing old adventure modules…as I’ve done with Ravenloft…gives me Lots of warm-fuzzies. It also gives me direction, space, and focus on my world building (which is the biggest part of campaign management, i.e. the key to running D&D). So I keep doing it. It’s easier (lazier) to work such “reclamation projects” then to create my own “modules.”

    So let us have grand arguments and conflicts and share our thoughts and ideas and passions. I am all for raising the bar when it comes to this game. I am all for being pushed towards excellence.

    Know that I have immense respect for you and your work, Alexis. Keep being you.
    : )

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  5. Just have to say, regarding Clash of the Titans. I strongly agree.

    No one's done a decent job of Conan since 1982, either. And right now I'm watching The Scarlet Pimpernel from 1934, having just acquired a copy after not having seen it in 10 years. No one has ever improved on this film, either.

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    1. Agree on both Conan and Scarlet Pimpernel.

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  6. JB, concerning your reclamation projects, I dont see how it's easier for you, you show us all the work you put into it. I'm doing one right now myself for the lost city(it's always been in my world, just Noone has made the effort to find it until now) and it's a shit ton of work to prep; I've been reworking it for more than a month now and i could have made at least twice the amount of material on my own in the same amount of time, I'm beginning to regret including it in my world at all.

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