This has been Vishnu the last few days…

I attended Bubonicon this year — the first sci-fi convention I’ve been to in over a decade.  It was an interesting experience in that this time around, I was much more interested in the panels than in the costuming or the merchandise tables. (The rise of the internet and the ability to buy the goods you would otherwise have to wait a year to scarf up at convention prices is why I suspect the merchandise tables were mostly flea market trash.)

One of the panels was on writers who game, and it had a few of the expected names:  Melinda Snodgrass, Walter Jon Williams, etc…  Their comments got me thinking about my own experience as a writer and a gamer, and led to this post…

There are a lot of gamemasters out there that think of themselves as frustrated writers.  I had always been interested in some form of storytelling since I was young — not necessarily writing, per se…I drifted between that, acting, cinematography, comic books, etc. but always with the intent to, some day, tell stories for a living (hence the profession of historian.)

There are some problems with translating your ideas from a game into workable, salable fiction.  First — gaming is collaborative by nature.  The GM might set the plot in motion, and might nudge the players to get through the adventure on track (I have a tendency to do that), but the better storytellers don’t railroad (I have been known to do this, or to bribe the player with story/plot/hero points to stop trying to derail things…but I try to be subtle), and are willing to let the players guide the direction of the adventure.  This collaborative feature of role playing is one of the reasons it’s so fun and social, but is also is a problem for the wannabe writer who wants to cull his gaming for ideas.

There’s the problem of intellectual property.  Do you “own” the characters?  do the players?  Do they get a cut of the proceeds, or maybe a mention in the forward?  Best is to not use other people’s characters.  Come up with something new, or similar.  Avoid the problem entirely.

I’ve found most gamers, when I’ve thought about moving characters to fiction, don’t mind not getting money or credit; it’s usually enough to see their creations in print…but a thank you is appropriate.  It’s a good idea to see if the player is alright with the idea, but once again — I’d suggest against it.

(Caveat: I have written and published a novel with a character culled from a game that another player ran, but the original idea was mine and he simply took it over.  When I wrote the book, I kept the name, but the character reverted to my original conception and away from the stuff that the player had done with him.  He was okay with this.)

Second, storylines and ideas from games tend to have a certain format to them, and these are easily identified by editors who are in certain genres like fantasy.  (There’s a reason that some of the magazines for fantasy explicitly tell you not to write up your gaming sessions as a novel and send them in…they’ve seen this before.)  If you had a good plot arc and want to use it, great, but remember the collaborative nature of the game tends to make the way a game unfolds more unwieldy than a tightly plotted novel.

thirdly, characters — and this was something mentioned in the panel that I agreed with — are central to good fiction, and several of the authors admitted to culling their RPG characters for fiction…but always with some tweaking.  A game system — especially the random creation or the class-based ones — have a tendency to create archetypes that do not translate into fiction well.  Whereas having a Level 2 Elf Fighter is something that gives a nice shorthand for the player to latch onto to play a character, a fictional character is not a stat block…  (This is why I prefer systems where you build your character to the idea — one of the better ones, I think, is Cortex.  Even so, you can “feel”  the advantage/disadvantage nature of characters crafted in a game when they are dropped into short fiction.)

Characters first.  Who are they?  Where do they come from?  What do they do and why?  Add quirks.  You can almost see this template for much of genre fiction — mysteries, especially.  A lot of mystery hero(ines) have that quirks first feel to them.  I need a detective, but I need something different…this one’s fat.  This one has Tourettes.  This one is a chimp.

Stealing well-rounded characters from a game is something that I think is fully doable and can lead to a successful transition of some gaming ideas to fiction.  If didn’t, a friend of mine and I wouldn’t be tossing around the idea of a comic book based on one of our campaigns, right now.  But that’s the key:  based on — not a straight translation.  The best translators (language wise) always play with the language a bit, to fix the flavor of the writer they are translating, rather than a cold mechanical transposition.

Fourth: A lot of games, over time, develop massive backstory, and delve into a lot of ideas.  I’ve run into guys that have complete worlds, worked out to Tolkeinesque complexity and completeness, and who think that everyone in the world will be as excited by, and interested in their worlds as they are.  You’ve met them, the guys that have notebook upon notebook of history, geography, etc. that they will often truncate into a Dickensian players guide to their universe as a welcome packet for the new gamer.  Throwing everything at the wall and hoping it sticks doesn’t work for RPGs anymore than it works in fiction.

(One of my problems when experimenting with science fiction is that I concentrate on worldbuilding and forget, oh, character…plot…that stuff.)

Look at the best science fiction, for example.  Much of the time, there can be a number of intriguing ideas, but they focus primarily on one technology, one trend, and examine their world from that.  It doesn’t inundate the reader, and is more concise and interesting.  Mysteries concentrate — red herrings aside — on the problem at hand:  who killed this due in the kitchen with the candle stick?  Romances are straight-forward:  how do this girl and this guy get together and what seemingly insurmountable problems do they have to overcome to do it.

Keep it simple, keep it concise, keep it interesting.

The general consensus of the panel at Bubonicon was that, in general, it’s not particularly effective to translate gaming ideas over into fiction (Wild Cards not withstanding…)  I don’t agree, but I think it’s necessary to be very careful with what you pluck out of a game to use for fiction.  Basic storylines, character ideas — yes; transcribing your “way cool” gaming night — no.

There are a couple of different types of gamers, I’ve noticed over the years.  There’s the casual player:  usually someone who enjoys the occasional game more as a social occasion, rather than as a hobby.  This is most often the girl/boyfriend or spouse whose partner games and they join in from time to time, the busy former gamer who doesn’t really have time or interest for more that the occasional session, and the curious who haven’t really gotten into the hobby.  There’s a “hobbyist” gamer, to quote Fear of Girls — people who enjoy gaming, do it regularly or often, but still have other disparate interests that do not have to do with the gaming community.  I say this is the vast majority of the hobby.  There’s the hardcore gamers — people whose life is tightly bound to gaming, with most of their friends and other interests intersecting with the activity.  These are often the sliver of the community that attracts to more interest, ire, ridicule, etc. from non-gamers.

This piece is mostly aimed at the last two groups.

There are few things that cannot be escaped in the universe:  death, entropic collapse, gravity, taxes…the first two are mirrored in the collapse of a gaming group.  There are plenty of reasons for the death or contraction of a group — people move away, they start having families, they get time-intensive jobs, get sick, get divorced, find new hobbies, or have falling outs over various and sundry things.  Almost inevitably, one of these things will happen and your gaming group will lose players, or fall apart altogether.

The collapse of a gaming group can be traumatic — with responses ranging from mild annoyance and inconvenience (“But we were so close to discovering the mystery of the Lost Temple of Badu!”), to alienation (“Geez, I didn’t know that dumping my girlfriend would lose me all my friends in the group!”), to feelings of despondency and mourning (lets face it…we all know this guy/girl…)  As with all things mortal, it’s okay to feel disappointed by the collapse of a group, a storyline not finished, a group of characters never to be seen (in that configuration) again.  Look at the response of fans to the cancellation of Firefly …very similar.

So what to do?  First, be disappointed, feel sad the gaming group broke up for a day or two then press on.  It’s a hobby; it’s not your life.  Find new players: there’s sites like Access Denied, RPG Finder, and the like.  Hit the game stores and see if you can find people (although this is getting harder as shops are more rare and people either buy online or purchase .pdf products from DriveThru and their ilk.  Gather up the remains of the last group, if you haven’t moved away, pissed off everyone in the old group, or even still have an interest…press on.

If you can’t do that?  Get a new hobby.  I motorcycle, I shoot, I hang out in coffeeshops and talk to people, I’m in grad school…plenty of people to meet and the likelihood is a few of them are gamers in one of these other activities you take on.  Maybe you don’t go back to gaming and become one of the first group of gamers I mentioned.  Life goes on.

In my case, two gaming groups have imploded in the last week — all my fault — and while I was the GM for both, that doesn’t mean the groups will coalesce around me again.  C’est la vie…  I have a few players that are still interested, and the groups wil be truncated, requiring me to reformulate my storylines, or ditch campaigns altogether (gaming is, at this time of dissertational annoyance, my only real creative outlet).  It sucks.  C’est la vie…  I’m hoping I can cobble together new groups.  If I can, great; I’m already thinking of new campaigns, characters, stories to tell (and story-telling, as the great Ferenc Szasz once said, is the point of history).  If I can’t..?  C’est la vie…  I have a Triump I can ride, I have guns to shoot, things to see in the Albuquerque area, movies to go to, work to get done.

Ultimately, you can’t let the games become your reality or life.

PS: If you’re in the Albuquerque area, I’m looking for GM/players.

UPDATE: In a particularly interesting turn of fate, it looks like most of the gaming group I thought I was going to lose is coming back to the table…even the person with the most reason not to.  I love it when everyone acts like an adult.

The ferry ride from Oban out to Mull — it was super windy and the storm just missed us.

Just a taste…

Took the train out to Oban…

Just a few pics to get the taste of the place.  Great, fresh seafood on the wharf, Oban distillery, and fantastic vistas.

Once upon a time…

…there was a young man that met a young girl. The girl was pretty, smart, and married to a man that didn’t appreciate her. She knew at the first instant that he was “the one.” The pair began to see each other, and soon she left her husband for the boy. They moved far away and started again, hopefully for ever after

The couple eventually married, and the boy joined the Army. They moved a lot, he was under constant stress, but they had each other. The Army ended and they moved back to their home far away. For a time, everything was as it had been — they were both in school, and while poor, they had enough to scrape by. For that time, they were happy.

The boy however, had changed in the military. He wanted to improve their life, but seemed incapable to making it happen. He felt increasingly guilty that he could not break through in his chosen profession, and as their debts piled up, he began to worry incessantly. The girl managed to get a decent job and they continued to scape by, but their financial situation continued to deteriorate. The boy returned to school to get a better degree and gave up trying for his dreams; he knew they would not happen. He now was determined to be — if not successful — responsible.

They moved to a house they couldn’t really afford. They kept a lifestyle that was lower middle class…but could barely afford. The girl for her part worked hard, and had taken over the mantle of responsible one. Her hard work seemed for nought: she worked hard and made a good, if not great, wage, but the money was always gone. The boy, who was trying to salvage their situation hadn’t communicated the issues to her. For her, she worked and worked…and nothing improved or changed. She was a practical woman, now, and becoming a bit bitter. She became sick from the stress, and for several years she was a shell of who she had been, trapped in an endless loop of pain.

The boy, now a man, had no clue what to do to improve things and blamed himself for their situation and her illness, and he hoped she would come back to him. When she finally did, he found that his feelings for her were changing — between the stresses of life, health, career, and schooling, he had let it all fall apart — but he kept trying, kept doing his best. However, he knew that he was failing her, although she denied it and tried to placate him.

As happens in these tales, things reached their nadir. They were perpetually broke, in deep debt, he was failing (again) at his schooling and in holding a job — hardly the responsible figure he was trying to be. He desperately worked to improve their financial standing, understanding that their mountain of debt was waiting in the wings, and not trusting his ability to make the situation right. He shored up debt, he lowered their expenses, he did nothing but live for plugging the holes in their financial ship, all the while knowing that — in the end — he would fail. As he always had.

Then one day, he reconnected with a girl they had known. At first it was just friends, but soon he realized that there were deeper connections with the new girl that he had lost with his wife. He began lying to her about where he was and who he was with. He lost himself, dishonoring the girl now a woman that he had once rescued and had hoped to have a life with. Trapped between staying to avoid hurting the girl now woman that he still loved and cared about, and leaving to join the woman he had fallen in love with, the boy now a man came to hate everything about himself.

Eventually, he could bear it no longer and walked away from the girl now woman, and joined the other that helped him find some of the spark of his old self that was left. He continues to feel he failed the girl, continues to care about her and hopes that she will be well, and will find the happiness he couldn’t give her.

The story of the boy and the girl is not over, but their paths sadly diverge.

My friend Berin is preparing to run a Dr. Who campaign for us, and in preparation, I bought the .pdf version of the game’s box set from Drive Thru RPG.  The price of the file set is about $20 cheaper than the print version, but still a bit pricey at $34.99.  There is also a separate Aliens and Creatures compendium on the site for $25.

First off:  the production values on the .pdf are top-notch — about what I’ve come to expect from most new licensed products.  I can’t vouch for the paper and print quality on the books in the box set, but based off of the .pdf, you’re probably looking at high-gloss paper, cardboard counters in full color, etc… The books are chock-a-block with pictures from the new series of the show (all from the Tennant tenure as the Doctor.)

There are three “books”: an Adventure book, the Players Guide, and the Gamemaster’s Guide.  There’s also a bunch of handouts for gadgets, blank and archetype character sheets, and character sheets for the Doctor and companions, as well as story point tokens.

The Adventures book has two scenarios and a bunch of ideas for the gamemaster.  It’s fairly standard fare and will be useful for new GMs, not so much for the experienced gamemaster.  The “Read This First” handout is a simple “what is a role playing game”, “how to play” booklet.

The Players Guide is simply a character creation manual with the basics of the Dr. Who RPG system.  For the .pdfs, the layout is single page, but with the first page being the outer cover of the book…the whole thing as a single unit.  this means that you have a two page layout, followed by single pages.  It’s fine to look at on a computer, where resizing is fairly quick and painless; on the iPad, it’s annoying, especially if you lock the horizontal so you can flip through the book easily.  (I use PDF Reader, myself, on the iPad.)

The chapters are simple:  the first gives you the same general information as the Read This First pamphlet and an overview of the Whoverse.  The second chapter, goes through the process of character creation.  It’s very straightforward and simple — deceptively so.  You can craft a great deal uniqueness into your characters despite the simplicity.

There are six attributes: Awareness, Coordination, Ingenuity, Presence, Resolve, and Strength — these can be paired with a simple list of skills to handle the various tasks presented.  Skills are also stripped down, with 12 total.  There’s also Traits, good and bad, that allow the player to craft various types of companions, aliens, Time Lords, and the like.

Chapter Three covers the basics of the game.  It’s a simple and elegant system: the player rolls 2d6 and adds their appropriate attribute, skill, and possibly a trait to beat a target number.  Story points can be used to alter rolls, use gadgets, or alter the story line.  Combat is not the primary focus of the game or the series, and is reflected in initiative.  There’s no random initiative, rather Talkers go first (to reflect the Doctor’s tendency to talk his way out of trouble), Movers, Doers, and Fighters.  Damage isn’t done in hit point style, rather damage is applied to the attributes (shot in the leg for 3 points?  This might subtact from your Coordination, Strength, and Resolve…)

Other conflicts are mental and social.  Social conflicts can affect your Resolve or Ingenuity; Mental can be something like be frightened.

The Gamemaster Guide parallels the Players Guide in the first three chapters. The second chapter is character creation, the third is the system rules.  There’s more there — rules for chases, healing, experience.

Chapter Four covers time travel, the nature of time, and the Time Lords and their society.  One of the cooler elements is a random table for the appearance and attributes of Time Lords that regenerate.  I had the idea that on regenerating, the Time Lord (Doctor or otherwise) should be shifted to another of the players, as well.

Chapter Five covers the basic aliens encountered in series — from the Autons (the manikin plastic creatures from the Eccelston season) to the Cybermen, to the Daleks, as others.  Chapters Six and Seven comprise the usual tips, tricks, and suggestions for gamemasters found in most RPG guides.

Overall, the look and feel of the book, and the system, goes a long way to evoking the Dr. Who series.  I have yet to play the game, but the books have that Who feel to them.  It’s a buy.

Style: 5 out of 5.  Substance: 4 out of 5 (it would have been higher if they had paired down the “how to GM” material in favor of more of aliens, more gadgets.)

Mermaid (Osamu Tezuka, 1964):

Helensburgh

A medieval reenactor in New Zealand went Conan on a photographer that was shooting their event.  They don’t really get into the reason that the 50 year old woman took umbrage with the other woman — perhaps she was worried the wee box would steal her soul.