A Dark And Quiet Room

written on 8/15/2002

There’s a quote in the William Gibson story “Hinterlands� that I like. It goes like this:

“The French call it ‘le metro’, ‘the subway’ and the Russians call it ‘the river’, but ‘subway’ won’t carry the distance, and ‘river’, for Americans, can’t carry quite the same loneliness.� Since I spent eight hours by myself in a car last weekend, this seemed like a good way to start.

But that’s just because I’m strange.

This last weekend I went to GenCon. I arrived in Milwaukee at 10:00 p.m. on Friday and I left at 10:00 p.m. on Saturday. 24 hours. Funny, it seemed longer than that. And that’s good.

My wife thinks that I needed a vacation. When I came back and was rambling about how much I enjoyed myself, she was happy. I’m glad. She was the one who stayed with the children while I was gone. She loves me.

So, why did I enjoy myself? There are a bunch of reasons, and I’m going to tell you all of them.

First, I was able to go into frothing fanboy mode for a little while. I came to GenCon, seeking signatures for several of my books. I got nearly all of them. Greg Stolze signed both of my copies of Unknown Armies (“second edition and they still don’t know what the ARMIES are�). James Wallis signed my copy of “The Incredible Adventures of Baron Munchausen�. Veronica Jones signed my copy of Little Fears, which already has Jason Blair’s signature. Yeah, I know him, but I’m still happy to have a first-run signed copy of Little Fears. That will be worth something some day. And I bought a copy of Pantheon and had it signed by Robin Laws, although I kicked myself for not bringing my copy of Rune to sign too.

Okay, most of you have no idea who these people are. That’s okay. Just trust me that most of these folks are Big Names in the gaming industry, and it was neat to get their autographs. I even ended up going out to lunch with Greg Stolze and a few other folks. I ended up talking to Ron Edwards instead (who is also a rising name), but it’s the principle of the thing.

Second, I was able to indulge in a little bit of spending. I already mentioned that I bought a copy of Pantheon. This is a game of competitive storytelling which I have not yet played. I also picked up a copy of De Profundis. I’m really looking forward to trying this out. Basically, it is a correspondence horror roleplaying game, which makes a lot of sense, if you think about it. For example, the original Dracula novel by Bram Stoker is just a collection of letters, journal entries, and newspaper clippings. Many of H.P. Lovecraft’s stories involve correspondence as well, as the sender of the letters becomes increasingly frantic as the terrible dark truth unfolds before him. So, in De Profundis, you take the role of a horror protagonist, experiencing dark mysteries and seeing horrors unfold before you. You then write about your (imaginary) experiences to another player, who takes on the role of a correspondant of yours. The game encourages the use of actual letters, rather than email. Each letter is not merely a means of conveying information. Rather, it is a prop. Care should be taken to see that the letter looks proper as well. The writer is encouraged to save a photocopy, and the receiver should save the letters as well. Over time, a story will emerge, told through the correspondence of the two players. I’m planning on playing this with Gabrielle once she returns home.

I also grabbed a copy of Once Upon A Time, which is now back in print. I had heard so many good things about this game that I decided to buy it, even though it might have meant a dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. (I’ll explain how I avoided this fate in a moment.) This is a card game that is also semi-competitive storytelling. The way it works is simple. Each player is dealt a certain number of Once Upon A Time cards and one Happily Ever After card. The Happily Ever After card has a traditional fairy tale ending on it. For example, one card might read “And so they returned it to its owner.� or “And that is how the kingdom got its name� or some such thing. The cards each have various elements of fairy tale stories on them. Some sample cards include “Far Away�, “Parents�, “Cave�, “Fairy�, “Wolf� and so on. Gameplay is simple. One person begins telling a fairy tale. As he tells the story and uses different story elements, he plays appropriate cards from his hand. So, when the heroine comes upon a wolf, the storyteller can play the Wolf card. The goal is to get rid of all your cards and be able to play the ending on your Happily Ever After card in a way that makes sense. Of course, if you use a story element and don’t have a card for it, someone else can play the card instead, stealing control of the story away from you. It’s a big like playing round robin stories (aka stories in the round or progressive storytelling) except that you have more structure. Crystal, Gabrielle and I have already played and it is a hoot. I especially wanted this game because it strikes me as something that I could play with my children in a few years. I take pretty good care of my gaming material, so I have a reasonable chance of having this game when Arianna is 7 or 8. If I’m careful with it, this is a game that we could enjoy for years.

I also bought some more Button Men. For those of you who don’t know, Button Men is a dice game that is supposed to be an abstraction of a knock-down dirty brawl. There are many, many characters for this game and each of them is portrayed on a button the size of a political campaign button. Yes, they each have pins also. So you could walk around with your characters pinned to your clothes…if you really wanted to. I’ve toyed with the idea of pinning my Button Men to my backpack, but I wouldn’t want any of them to get lost or be damaged.

I am a sucker for this game. Last year, when I was at Origins, the company that makes the game was giving away free Button Men cut from the convention program. But you only got one button per program. I actually scrounged up three copies of the convention program so that I could get all three. Yes, I am a bit deranged.

So at GenCon I made the mistake of passing this company’s booth and poking through the Button Men. And what did I see? Samurai Button Men! I had to have them! I had to have them all! And so I bought them.

Like I said, I’m a bit deranged.

Third, I got to meet a lot of people with whom I have only corresponded on the Internet. I post at a gaming site called the Forge (http://www.indie-rpgs.com) and a large number of people from the Forge were at GenCon. It’s always nice to be able to put faces to names. Honestly, there are some of you that I’ve never met. Maybe we will someday. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But there was another reason that GenCon was wonderful. I’ve already mentioned the Forge, but, in order to explain this last reason, I must explain the purpose of the Forge. The Forge is dedicated to the independent RPG movement. Specifically, it exists to promote creator-owned, creator-published roleplaying games. Someday, I may write a journal entry on the current state of intellectual property and copyright laws. It might even turn into a rant, although I think that, as a former librarian and an owner of my own intellectual property, I have a fairly balanced position.

Anways, this year the Forge had a booth at GenCon. Jason Blair and Ron Edwards had split the cost for a large booth, and had opened its use up to indie publishers (for a small price) so that they could present and promote their games. It was a great idea. Even better, it worked very, very well. The booth was set up to permit multiple game demos to proceed at once, and it was a rare moment that no one was playing. Several people came to the show with very short print runs, courtesy of Kinko’s, and sold out. Sure, this was “only� 35 sales or so per person, but remember that these are games that did not have the benefit of a massive advertising campaign or a large established fan base awaiting the next supplement. These were sales to people who came by the booth, tried a game, and walked away with a copy. It was wonderful.

It was wonderful because it proved to me, beyond any further doubt, that the independent RPG scene is doing something important. Like the indie scenes in other art and entertainment scenes (music, film, etc.) these games are being produced by people who love games and are willing to be different and experimental. Many of these games violate fundamental assumptions about what a roleplaying game is “supposed� to be. Some of these games are in genres that are too niche to be approached by the big boys. But they sold, and sold well.

It was also wonderful because I saw a bunch of people cooperating. Rather than viewing each other as competitors for a small audience, every person worked to promote everyone’s games. I helped Jason sell Little Fears, but I also tried to direct customers to other games in the booth as well. Ron Edwards was especially noble in this area, as he demoed lots and lots of games, rather than focusing on his own. Also, in the forums, I have seen this spirit of cooperation as well. People offering editorial assistance, artwork, layout, cross-promotion and advice to fellow indie publishers. It is wonderful. A lot of quality work is being produced, and I saw it in action at GenCon.

And it gave me hope.

You see, I have already published my first game and tried to follow the traditional routes. It didn’t work. However, I’ve had my very special game, my baby, floating in the back of my head. I have so wanted to begin working on it. But I couldn’t. I was tired. I was burned out. I was exhausted by trying to run a game company by myself. I couldn’t do it, and eventually I collapsed under the pressure.

But now I have finished with school, and all of a sudden I felt an emotional burden lifted. Perhaps I could write after all. And then, as I was at GenCon and saw the cooperation and camraderie, it lifted my spirits. There were others out there who would be willing to help. And there would be those who would buy this game. Will it ever dethrone Dungeons & Dragons? I doubt it. But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that now, for the first time in months, I have the time, energy, and desire to write. I want to create, to finish building my world, to craft my manuscript, to guide it through layout and, in the end, hold the completed work.

It’s a long process. I know this. I’ve done it before.

But I’m ready for it.

===

I am including two columns that I wrote for the Gaming Outpost about the development of my game. Neither of them really have anything to do with the game, though. However, they do speak to two very important parts of art: passion and exhaustion. I hope that you enjoy them.

A Meditation on Summer Rain
“I’m still crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.�
“I don’t think I’d like that,� he said.
“You might if you tried.�
“I never have.�
She licked her lips. “Rain even tastes good.�“
What do you do, go around trying everything once?�
“Sometimes twice.�
—Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

I went for a walk in the rain today. My job occasionally requires that I deliver miscellaneous documents in downtown Erie, which gets me outside and out of the basement where I usually work. Today it was raining.

It was beautiful. Let me tell you about it.

The rain begins to fall soon after I leave the law firm where I work to begin my rounds. Drop after drop pelts from the sky, spattering almost soundlessly on the sidewalk. Soon they fall more heavily, a quiet tinkling becoming a robust chatter as the rain dances on the newly paved roads. Rain runs off of rooftops in silver cascades and pours from invisible gargoyles to the street below. Leaves chatter and murmur in the growing downpour.

With a rush of joy I leap from under a protective awning into the summer rain. It is a happy rain, I tell someone later. Some rains are cold and cruel, cutting to the bone. But this is a playful rain, warm and gentle to the touch. It leaps around my feet as I frolic down the street. It runs down my face and soaks my hair. I tilt back my head and try to taste the rain, but it scurries away from me.

I love the rain. It is a reminder of what is good and wholesome about the world. Rain always seems to leave the city a little cleaner and more human than before it came. Rain washes away the dirt and ugliness, leaving sparkling beauty. When I walk in the rain, I feel connected to nature in a way that I normally only feel when deep in the woods, far from the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle. The wildness in the rain invigorates me and inspires me.

People do not seem to appreciate the rain. All around me I hear people complaining about the weather. They are scurrying for cover or opening umbrellas or hiding beneath newspapers. I do not understand why this is. Have we forgotten the simple joy of rain? The city cringes and wilts beneath it. What a shame. In our passion to master our environment, we instead just tune it out. Are we so far gone from the natural cycles of life that a summer shower becomes an inconvenience?

Alas, I am on the job, or I might jump in the puddles or just sit and watch the rain pour down as the breeze blows off Lake Erie and swirls through the streets of Erie. The time passes all too quickly and I am back in the office. “Wet outside�, people comment. I just smile and say, “Yes, but it’s a happy rain.�

By now you’re wondering what any of this has to do with gaming. It is rather simple, actually. I believe that both game design and game play are art forms in their own right. That means that it is possible to approach them as an artist. Just think: when you game, you are creating art. Pretty neat, eh?

But what makes for good art? Lots of things, certainly. Technique is important, as can be training. But one thing stands out ahead of all these items. A true artist has to live. It is not enough to know your theory or your technique. You need to have experience in life. You need to experience the true, the good, the beautiful. Without this, any art that you produce, whether gaming or otherwise, will be flawed and lifeless. Good art is vibrant and full of life because the artist is vibrant and full of life.

The effects of this experience of life will show in two ways. First, you will find specific inspiration in the experiences that you encounter. I can point to many inspirations for Alyria that were drawn from my daily life. Would you be surprised if I told you that there is a huge clock tower near my workplace? What if I told you that I am a devoted fan of Bladerunner? What if I told you that an article on electricity theft in the Wall Street Journal inspired the lightning jacks of the Web? I know that I am not alone in this. As I recall, Underworld’s Head Count system, using coins instead of dice, was inspired while Gareth-Michael Skarka was playing with the change in his pocket while waiting for the subway. I am sure that many of you could also share similar experiences.

But, more importantly, this experience of life will inspire in you the passion to create. I was invigorated by my walk in the rain. I was inspired, well, to write this column. I wanted to share my feelings with everyone around me. I wanted to write about the beauty of the rain. This passion is what feeds my game design. This ought to be what feeds all game design. The best artists are those with a passion for their work. Without the experience of life to motivate you, eventually the pursuit of the art will become dry, a dull repetition of empty ritual. How many people have burned out on gaming for just this reason?

So, let me challenge all of you. Just for one day, put down your d20s and your rulebooks; your G/N/S, GEN and stances; your probabilities and your systems. Put them down and be part of the world around you. Walk in the woods. Read a biography. Go outside and gaze at the stars. Examine the intricacies of a leaf. Live a little, and it will show in your gaming.

That’s enough pontificating for the day. If you need me, I’ll be outside, dancing in a puddle.

Writer’s Block

“This space intentionally left blank.�-any government publication

I’m staring at the blank piece of paper in front of me. I think it is staring back. It hates me. I know it does. I can almost hear its taunting voice. “Go ahead. I dare you to write something.� It sits there, mockery oozing from its pristine white surface as I stammer, confused and bewildered.

Every so often artsy folks supposedly “lose their muse�. One minute everything is clicking and the creativity is flowing. The next minute, deathly silence falls. Or so they claim. I bet that a lot of people look at this as an excuse for the bohemian lifestyle of most artsy folks. Personally I never really understood what they meant either. Until now.

I have lost my muse.

The paper is still mocking me. I threaten to crumple it up and throw it in the trash. It smirks at me knowingly but is silent for now.

The sun is still out but I can see the moon rising from where I sit. It is framed rather nicely between the umbrella of the patio table and the peaked roof of the coffee house where I sit. A tree grows right next to the deck where I sit, spreading its limbs over me. I feel at peace. I have not felt at peace recently. Work has been busy and tiring. School has been obnoxiously boring. But most of all the dark shadow of Origins has been casting itself over my mind.

Most of you probably will not understand. If you are going to Origins, you are going as a participant, a gamer among gamers, making the pilgrimage to a gaming Medina. (Everyone knows that GenCon is Mecca, so Origins must be Medina.) However, I am going as an exhibitor, a very small press playing in the big boys’ pool. By the time this article sees print Origins will be over and I will be able to tell you how good or bad it was for me. Right now, the uncertainties threaten to overwhelm me.

That is why I am here. My wife could see that I was stressed and suggested that I come down to this coffee house and relax. We were just here for our anniversary and we both enjoyed the mellow,
artsy atmosphere, expressed in rich earth tones and the blessed smell of freshly ground coffee beans.

And so I am here, with my pen, prepared to do battle with this mocking sheet of paper, hoping to find my muse. Maybe she is hiding in the branches of this tree. Maybe she is curled up at the bottom of my cup of coffee. Maybe she is frolicking on the happy tongue of flame that dances on the candle on the table in front of me.

Or maybe she has not left at all. Could it be that the pressures of life have overwhelmed her voice? Could the strain and stress of the upcoming convention be distracting me from her clarion call? Maybe she is just asleep and needs a cup of coffee, too.

Whatever it is, one thing is certain. Now, as so many times before, I stand before the Wall. In any creative endeavor, whether writing or game design or painting or anything else, the Wall awaits. I have faced It before when working on Junk and now I face It again. It is the Wall that speaks to me from that mocking sheet of paper, taunting my efforts. I reach out to touch the Wall. It feels so hard and unyielding. Yet I know that more lies on the other side. Future columns wait to be written. The secret history of the Ark. The intricate dance of the Brotherhoods of the Right and Left Hand Paths. And more, so much more. I hear it calling to me from beyond the Wall.

My eyes narrow.

The paper shudders. It senses defeat.

There is no way over the Wall. There is no way around the Wall. To pass the Wall you must pass through It.

I pick up my pen.

I once read a book on writing called Writing Down the Bones. In it, the author talked about writer’s block. Her cure is simple yet profound: write. There is always something about which to write. If nothing else, write about your writer’s block. “Push through the Wall,� she would say. “Do not give up.� If I were not to write, the Wall wins. I cannot let that happen. Alyria waits on the other side. My muse waits on the other side.

I take a deep breath. My choice is made.

I step forward.

My pen is ready.

Slowly, painfully I press myself into the Wall.

And I begin to write.