This is rough; both transitions and sound need work. But I thought I’d put this trailer for A Flower for Mara up for comment. Any thoughts?

I’m going to combine two posts into one. Fear my blogging power!

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I’m doing okay, actually. Had a bit of a moment when I read this, but otherwise I was on an even keel for the day. That’s good, actually. Looking back at previous years, this day has been better or worse, depending on stuff.

Elder James McDonald grabbed me after worship and said that he had been praying for us. He lost his mother a few years ago, too, and he said that he’d been thinking about us. On the one hand, it’s a positive indication that it took me a moment to figure out what he meant. On the other hand, I was deeply moved and appreciative that he had remembered. Made me feel loved.

The day before that, I watched Baby Mamma with Crystal. She wanted to see it, and it was for her birthday, so I said yes.

Now, before I launch into my cultural critique, I need to say that I enjoyed the movie. As my father would say, “It was diverting.” It followed the romantic comedy formula without the central relationship actually being a romance. In other words, it was about a relationship founded initially on a lie that needed to be transformed to a relationship founded on truth. Maybe it was a buddy movie…or maybe buddy movies are related to romantic comedies.

Anways, the bits about pregnancy and childbirth were pretty funny, and I laughed at the right places. At least, I’m pretty sure that they were the right places.

Then I left the theater with Crystal, opining that our civilization is doomed.

Providentially, as we wandered the Shoppes after the movie, we stumbled upon the display of the Dirty Laundry Project, which essentially reinforced my concern.

We have disconnected love, sex, marriage, and childbearing. In the movie, one of the characters says to another one, “What does being married have to do with having a baby?” One of the T-shirt said, “Love does not equal sex. Sex does not equal love.” While it’s certainly true that sex doesn’t always equal love, isn’t it supposed to? Several of the T-shirts talked about waiting to have sex. Wait for what? Marriage was never mentioned. Apparently, you’re supposed to wait for “the right one”. But, in the heat of the moment, the one in front of you is “the right one”.

And, ultimately, we take love, sex, marriage, and childbearing, and turn them into ways to satisfy our own lusts and desires. Yes, even childbearing. It’s the new way to self-actualize, to find meaning in your existence. Having children has become about being fulfilled as a person, not about giving to the next generation.

The more I wander the world, the more that I realize that the simple act of establishing a household, centered on the marriage of a God-fearing man to a God-fearing woman, raising God-fearing children, is a revolutionary act of epic proportions. The kind that makes the foundations of this corruption system tremble.

Here’s one from the quote file:

“Surely avant-garde enemy rebels of the system never had to change diapers.”–Bruce Sterling, Islands in the Net

I wouldn’t be so sure about that.

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.

This is how I’m starting the Designer’s Notes. I liked it so much that I figured I’d share it here.

On July 19, 2003, at 11:30 p.m. EDT, my mother passed away. It was a shock to all of us. She was not ill; she had shown no indication of any problem. She was working outside that afternoon and, around 2:00 p.m., was stung by a bee. She wasn’t feeling well and called my sister Elizabeth. While on the phone, she collapsed. My sister hurried over and found her unconscious. The paramedics could not revive her and, after several hours spent in intensive care, she died. She was only 51 years old.

That wasn’t the first time that death had entered my life. In the first six months of 1997, five people who were close to me suddenly passed away. Among them was my Grandpa Anderson and my Grandma Ben-Ezra. Cancer took them both.

Nor was it the last. In 2006, I helped bury Hannah, the three-year old daughter of a co-worker, dead from a congenital disease. A week later, I stood at the grave of William, a sixteen-year old boy from my church, dead from brain cancer.

These are just some of the griefs that I bear, the flowers that I carry for Mara. Writing this game is part of how I am putting them down.

Per Adiel’s request, an update.

I’m writing on my blog, mostly because I was swinging by to grab some info. Not to be morbid, but I wanted to make sure that I got the right date for Mom’s death. (And, while I’m here, I’ll probably grab the date that William died, too.) I’m gathering this info, because I’m about to write the Designer’s Notes for A Flower for Mara, which is mostly autobiography. I figure that I’ll talk a little about Mom, maybe about William, maybe about Hannah. Then a little project history and a brief bibliography (four entries, at present). I’m thinking just a couple more hours, actually. Then, my first draft will be complete!

Of course, there’s still the joy of editing and all that, but it will be a major milestone.

Here are some more actual play videos for A Flower for Mara. I’ll probably draw on these for some sort of video tutorial or something.

A Flower for Mara Spring Scenes part 1

A Flower for Mara Spring Scenes part 2: this clip illustrates the use of “phone call” techniques to have two characters talking to each other on the phone. In our game, we ended up turning this conversation into two spotlight scenes, one for each side of the conversation.

A Flower for Mara Spring Scenes part 3: This clip illustrates the use of off-stage characters. Also shows the general mood of the evening, which was happy and not at all bleak. This is an important point, actually. We enjoyed playing the game. Sure, a lot of it was catharsis, but we enjoyed doing this thing together. Finally, you can see the feedback from the “audience” to the developing storyline. Cast members are perfectly free to make comments during the game, and there was a lot of talking in between scenes. This is a Good Thing; it showed me that everyone was engaged in what was going on.

A Flower for Mara Spring Scenes part 4: The exchange beginning around 2:10 shows an excellent example of Endowment in play by Whitney (portraying Ruth). (Endowment is giving another character or object an attribute of some kind.) It was fairly subtle, too. It took me a little bit to realize that, according to Whitney’s statement, Mara had stolen Ruth’s boyfriend and then married him. This wasn’t part of anything preplanned, and it is an excellent example of what makes this game work.

A Flower for Mara Easter Dinner Part 1: I was particularly pleased with a shocking explosion from Jana (starting around 8:00), set up by Jennifer as a result of the preceding soliloquy. This is a good example of how one player can use soliloquy information to help set up another player’s actions. In addition, Jennifer’s statement that that pizza was for dinner was another excellent use of Endowment.

A Flower for Mara Easter Dinner Part 2

Watching these has been pretty neat, since it reminds me of playing the game that night. Ever have a game that was especially meaningful to you? This was one of those games. Thanks again to everyone who was a part of it.

Anyways! Hopefully seeing this footage gives you an idea of how A Flower for Mara will play. I need to playtest a couple more times (and some external playtesting would be great), but I think that I will soon be ready to write this sucker.

Well, I started compiling the video footage I have for A Flower for Mara, for those who are curious. Here are the first three videos:

A Flower for Mara Opening
A Flower for Mara Funeral Dinner Part 1
A Flower for Mara Funeral Dinner Part 2

Essentially, this is the opening part of the game. You’ll notice that I cleverly edited out Gabrielle’s flower monologue. As I mentioned previously, I won’t be releasing those. But, it should be clear when the monologues happen, so you can get a sense of the pacing of the game.

We ran out of tape before we ran out of play. Hopefully I will be able to show some of the highlights of that night, as well as pointing out various techniques used in play. Hopefully, I’ll be able to use these as examples for others who are seeking to play A Flower for Mara.

I’ve had a thought kicking around in my head since my last playtest of A Flower for Mara.

People want to talk.

I noticed this behavior in the playtest. The players actually wanted to have their turn to lay down their flower and talk about their grief. What drove this home was John C.’s comments in post-game discussion. He was expressing the concern that the game forced the characters to resolve their problems too quickly(*). I noted to him that he could have simply not laid down his flower, leaving his character unresolved. He shook his head quickly. “But I wanted to be able to place my flower,” he said.

I hadn’t been expecting this. I had thought that being forced to confront your grief would be a social motivator to hang on to your flower. Instead, it’s turning into a powerful reason to play the game. A Flower for Mara provides a safe place to talk about these things, when you have people who have agreed that they will not abandon you as you walk down this path of facing your own sorrow and who are willing to hear you.

That’s pretty powerful stuff right there.

Makes me wonder how much more we could share with each other if we simply communicated to each other that we are really willing to truly listen.

(*)My response to this is “Yes, but no.” My solution is to clarify what exactly it means for the character when the player lays down his flower. It’s not the end of grief; rather, it’s the end of crisis mode, when you can take the first step into a life without that person. It’s not the end of the grieving, but it is the beginning of the healing. And no, not everyone gets there.

So, Friday night (and into Saturday morning…uh…more than is probably good to admit), Ralph, Keith and I are talking game design. Mostly, we’re discussing Keith’s forthcoming Dream Palace, which is going to be the movie RPG. However, along the way, I discover something that I am doing in A Flower for Mara unconsciously.

Historically, the position of Game Master in roleplaying has been a source of difficulty, due to the various roles that he must fulfill. The two most problematic are that of referee/moderator and that of adversary. As the referee, the Game Master is expected to be impartial in his administering the rules. As the adversary, the Game Master is expected to bring the pain in an enjoyable way.

Imagine if, in the NFL, the guys in the striped shirts were also the coaches for the other team. I trust that you can see the problem here.

There’s been a lot of effort in roleplaying design dedicated to fixing this issue. One option, which I tend to think is underused, is simply this: divide the two roles. Make one person responsible to facilitate the game, and make a different person responsible to bring the adversity. This has been the method used by various GMless games by spreading both roles around. It’s essentially how Dirty Secrets works, for example.

But I realized that this can also work for games with GMs. Looking back to Legends of Alyria, this is exactly what I did. The Narrator is supposed to facilitate and organize. The players bring the adversity by opposing each other. That’s what makes Legends of Alyria work.

And that’s where the insight came for A Flower for Mara.

In A Flower for Mara, the Director is the facilitator, but Mara is the primary adversary.

I knew this unconsciously; I could tell by my reaction to the idea. However, knowing it consciously is very helpful. Now I can give better advice to the person playing Mara. “Oppose the characters’ attempt to move on. Get in the way. Interfere.” Yeah. Be the adversary.

That’s a helpful piece of information for me.

No time to talk right now, but I wanted to make sure that these didn’t get lost.

James talks about grief and story.

Gabrielle reflects on last week’s playtest.

I have this theory that people are naturally creative, that those who aren’t “creative” are actually afraid of looking dumb and therefore edit themselves. This isn’t an original theory, of course. Keith Johnstone expressed this in Impro, and we’ve kicked this theory around here as well. So, last night, it was with mixed apprehension and excitement that I approached my playtest of my newest game, A Flower for Mara. We were maxing out the player count at eight people. Five of them were new.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I started feeling nervous. I was grappling with three fears:

–What if they just don’t “get it”? In other words, what if they failed to embrace this activity and therefore it fizzled?
–What if they mentally lock up at improvising and creating things on the fly?
–What if they don’t grasp their ability to make up stuff about other characters?

To be fair, those in the group who hadn’t roleplayed before did have theatrical experience of some kind before, be it formal or informal, so I was hopeful. But still, the fear twittered around in my stomach, making me nervous.

I was totally wrong on all counts.

This was an awesome group, and I’d happily play this or another game with them again. Yeah, it was that good.

So, let’s get into the report!

Dramatis Personae

All the players were people from my church. I put out an open call for playtesters on the church email list, and this batch is the result of this email. I have another family who also expressed an interest, so I’ll be able to do this again. Fun!

Seth—I was the Director for the game, which generally makes me the all-powerful GM.
Gabrielle—My sister. She played Mara, the deceased woman, who now is just a memory.
Raquel—A friend. She played Joshua, Mara’s father, with a detached relationship with Mara.
John C.—Whitney’s husband. He played Caleb, Mara’s husband, with a detached relationship with Mara.
Whitney—John C.’s wife. She played Ruth, Mara’s sister, with a competitive relationship with Mara.
Jana—Married, but not to any of the other players, and John C.’s sister. She played Zoe, Mara’s daughter, with a devoted relationship with Mara.
Jennifer—John B.’s mother. She played Naomi, Mara’s mother, with a bitter relationship with Mara.
John B.—Jen’s son. He played Thomas, Mara’s brother, with a bitter relationship with Mara

The major addition from the last playtest was the relationship types, which Jason Morningstar helped me hash out in this thread. The way it works is that, before you are assigned your character, you choose a relationship type from the following list:

–devoted
–competitive
–respectful
–bitter
–subordinate
–detached

The neat thing about this is that, because you’re choosing before you know your character, you’re actually choosing what sort of story you’d like to play through. Taken together with the relationship map, you very quickly produce an interesting starting situation.

Overview of Play

Here’s a basic overview of play. Mara died in the spring. So, after the special opening scene at the funeral dinner, the game goes through the four seasons, with each player having the opportunity to have a spotlight scene. Then, once all these scenes are done, there’s a group holiday scene. After winter, the game is over.

The meal scenes are really interesting, because you get to see all the characters interacting together, plus each character gives an internal monologue about his current emotional state. It’s lots of fun to see the contrast between someone’s external appearance and their internal thoughts.

Anyways, whenever it’s your scene or your monologue, Mara can come talk to you. Mara is played by one of the cast; however, she’s not a ghost. Rather, she’s a reflection of your memories of Mara. Only you can hear her when she’s talking to you. (Although, since all the players can actually hear Mara’s player talking, you can achieve some nifty effects.)

The only way that you can stop Mara from talking to you is by putting down your flower. See, at the beginning of the game, everyone is given a flower. Yes, including the Director. Then you have to write down some experience that caused you grief or sorrow on a piece of paper and attach it to the flower. To lay it down, you go to the graveside and tell the entire group about your grief. Then you lay the flower down and walk away.

Once you do this, you give up any further spotlight scenes. However, Mara can’t bother you anymore. The idea is that your character has turned the first corner on accepting the loss of Mara.

No one is required to give up his flower.

What Happened in Play

We started off with a brief pep talk by me about not being afraid to create and all that stuff. Then I gave my version of the Lines and Veils talk.

A brief aside: my opinion on Lines and Veils is that you don’t usually know where your need for a Line or Veil is until you actually get there. So, rather than trying to hash it out in advance, I make clear the need for the group to accept someone “tapping out” on a given topic without there being any stigma. From where I sit, it actually gives permission for people to push further into difficult topics, trusting that the other players will pipe up if someone is going too far. I’d be curious to hear from my fellow players about that.

Then we prepped characters, learned the rules, and generally prepared to play.

A Flower for Mara always starts with the entire group gathering around the designated graveside while the opening music is played. This time, I opened with “On the Evening Train” by Johnny Cash (from the album American V). Then we got underway.

Wow.

Just wow.

I was thoroughly impressed with the quality of play. People quickly introduced all sorts of complications into the story. Some highlights:

–At the funeral dinner, Thomas started talking about dividing up the family heirlooms that Mara owned. This included the house where Caleb still lived.

–There was a fight at Easter dinner, because Naomi ordered out for pizza instead of making the traditional Easter dinner that Mara always made. Zoe lost her temper, yelled at everyone, and stormed out.

–Zoe’s husband was currently deployed, and she was pregnant, so she ended up giving birth on Mara’s birthday. So she’s lying in the hospital bed, sobbing because her mother wasn’t there for the birth.

–Thomas got drunk to celebrate his great-niece’s birth and then showed up at the hospital.

–It came out during play that Mara had actually stolen the boyfriend of her sister Ruth. Yep, Caleb originally was going out with Ruth.

I prompted very little of this. Indeed, the “experienced” roleplayers of the group were not the center of the story at all. The “noobs” took to the game like they were old hands and roared into action.

It was amazingly cool.

I recorded the entire session and videotaped most of it. At some point, I may release bits onto the Net for demonstration purposes. However, I promised that I would not release the recordings of the various flower monologues, where the players spoke of their griefs. That would be too personal. So, if you weren’t there, you just don’t get to know. But, after each monologue, there was this sense of bonding and embracing. One player actually gave another player a hug in the wake of his monologue. We all shared something special because of the game.

That was also amazingly cool.

In the end, we gathered at the graveside for the close of the game. I played “When Sorrows Encompass Me’ Round” by Cordelia’s Dad (from the album Cordelia’s Dad). Then we were done.

As people were leaving, John C. told me that roleplaying had gone up in his opinion, and that he’d really like to play again.

Jana’s husband, Joshua, asked tongue-in-cheek who had won.

I won. Oh yes. I won.

What Was Awesome

I don’t usually use exuberant language in my writing about roleplaying, but I’m still buzzing over this success, so I hope that you’ll allow me some enthusiasm. So, yeah, this is the section about the stuff that was awesome about Wednesday’s playtest.

Roleplaying is easy!

First, this group demonstrated that a lot of these “advanced” techniques that we discuss are actually fairly normal. In particular, I found that the cast took very quickly to the concept of “endowing” traits. This is when one character says something to another character like, “At least I’m not a drunk like you.” Thus, the character has now been “endowed” with the trait of being a drunk.

This is a key technique in A Flower for Mara, and I was afraid that this would be too difficult a concept. I was completely wrong.

I think that my favorite example of endowing was during a conversation between Ruth and Mara. Ruth’s relationship with Mara was “competitive”, and they were both reflecting on this. Gabrielle (as Mara) says, “Yeah, I guess I did always have to have the better boyfriend, didn’t I?” Then Whitney (as Ruth) says, “But you still married Caleb, didn’t you?”

It was so subtle I missed it at first. In fact, Gabrielle missed it, too; she was half-way into her next line when she realized the import of what Ruth had said. Mara had stolen Ruth’s boyfriend and married him.

Another example was during Easter dinner, when Jennifer (as Naomi) commented about how the takeout pizza was a major improvement over a complicated meal. I looked at the table and blinked. I had been seeing ham and all that. Now I suddenly saw pizza boxes instead of fine china.

I find that a good endowment makes my understanding of the scene suddenly turn sideways. This happened several times, and I was very happy.

An interesting note on the Director’s role. A Flower for Mara has a strong GM position. Pretty much, his word is law, and whatever he says, goes. I find it funny that I’ve spent the last nine years of my roleplaying life trying to escape a strong GM role, and then I design it straight into one of my games.

However, properly structured, the Director’s role can actually help encourage roleplaying. In both playtests, the cast has reported that it is freeing to have an all-powerful Director standing by. If the Director doesn’t like something, he can always overrule it. Therefore, you’re actually free to experiment. If it doesn’t work out, then the safety net of the Director will catch you.

Griefs are good

I’ve figured that the flower monologue about your grief is probably the scariest thing about this game. But, honestly, last night changed my opinion about this. I got the sense that the cast [i]wanted[/i] to say these things to each other, that the game created a space where we had permission to talk to each other in this way.

It was interesting, actually, hearing several people preface their grief with a statement like, “This isn’t nearly as big a deal as everyone else’s, but…” Then they would go on to say something that was honest and heartfelt and obviously near to the heart. The “smallest” thing that was said wasn’t really that small at all, because it wasn’t small to the person who said it.

Relationship types are really handy

In contemplating the game design, my biggest concern was that the cast wouldn’t have enough to get the game started. Putting the relationship type together did the trick.

First, the cast agreed that the relationship type helped them to quickly get a good picture of who their character was. We actually got up to speed in forty minutes, including teaching the rules. That’s uber-fast, in my book. Also, John B. noted that it adds an element of randomness to character creation. You’re blindly matching a relationship type to a character, which means that the game won’t work out quite the same way each time. Also, in the end, this “randomness” shaped a fairly believable family.

Second, Gabrielle reported that playing Mara was fairly easy, because the relationship types gave her something to work with. Now she could say, “Hmm. I have a competitive relationship with this person.” Then she would use that to guide her interactions with the character.

Finally, I found it gratifying to see that people tended to choose relationship types that matched the tone of their griefs. This wasn’t universal by any means, but several players said, “I chose such-and-such relationship type because of this experience.” Without too much encouragement, they all played close to home. Very nice.

On being detached

I wanted to make sure that the “detached” relationship type was exercised, so I asked Raquel to take it. John C. also took “detached”, so it actually got a double workout.

The concern that both Jason Morningstar and I shared is that “detached” could be an easy way to hide. “I’m not involved; therefore, these events don’t touch me.” However, I think that this isn’t a problem, because the character is embedded in a relationship map with the rest of the characters. No character can escape; by definition, they are all tied together. So, in this context, being “detached” is still a means of interaction with other characters. Now, if everyone were detached, that could potentially be a problem. But, even having two of the six characters be detached worked out pretty well. If nothing else, it makes you an excellent source of conflict for others.

Pizza

After the Easter dinner scene, several of us were saying, “Mmm…pizza.” So Jennifer ordered some and had it delivered.

Awesome!

What Needs Tweaking

I’m really happy with where the game is. The one thing that I noticed is that people who laid down their flowers early (say, in the summer) were starting to run out of inspiration for their holiday monologues. You feel like you’ve resolved your story, but you’re still having to talk.

So, part of me is wondering if these monologues should be optional after you’ve laid down your flower. On the other hand, part of me is thinking that a “pass” would be as easy as getting up and saying, “Turkey! I love turkey!”

I’ll have to mull this over a bit.

Also, a couple of the playtesters wished that they were allowed one additional scene after laying down their flower to be able to wrap something up. At this point, I’m thinking that this is better handled by trying to integrate your “wrapping up” into someone else’s scene. But, again, we’ll see.

On Laughter in a Serious Game

We laughed a lot on Wednesday. I mean, a lot. To the point where Jana assured me, at the end of the game, that they were actually taking it seriously and hoping that I wasn’t offended. I wasn’t offended at all. Sometimes things are funny because they are true, and you laugh because you recognize it. Sometimes you laugh, because something is a bitter truth and you have to express the pain somehow. Better to laugh than to cry.

Conclusion

There are certain roleplaying sessions that stand out in your mind. Those times that you know that you’ll remember for a long time to come. Those times that you know that you bridged the gap of understanding with someone and, for a moment, your souls touched.

This was one of those sessions.

I was honored to be a part of it.

Last night went really well! When I’m finished writing up my playtest report, I’ll post it here for all my devoted readers. For now, I simply want to thank my fellow participants for being a part of this great experience.

First, go read this, by my sister Adiel.

Now, to address a possible question about A Flower for Mara: why would you do this to yourself? I’ve wondered this myself, actually. I’ve played exactly once, and it was a rough evening. Someone even asked the question that night. “Why do we do this to ourselves?”

Why indeed.

This poem does a lot to answer that question. I believe that we all carry sorrows and griefs with us. I believe that we all have stories to share and things that we want to say about the death that has touched our lives. A Flower for Mara is a way of interacting with those things, of drawing out those emotions and examining them and maybe, just maybe, being able to put them down. And, along the way, you can share this with others. Perhaps you will understand each other a little better by the end of the game.

My friend James said that A Flower for Mara doesn’t seem like it would be a lot of fun to play, but it might be worthwhile. Seems like a fair statement to me.

One of the things that I’m working on with A Flower for Mara is exploring alternate venues to market the game. So I’m looking into local theater groups, particularly improv or experimental groups. I’ve already located an improv group on the campus of Bradley University, and I’m looking to contact the Ministry of Experimental Theater (also at Bradley University) to see if they are the kind of group that might be interested in such a thing.

Well, here’s my new idea, which I intend on trying out at the monster playtest scheduled for Wednesday. (Seven players plus the Director, and five of the players are total n00bs. Should be a night to remember….)

Anyways, it works like this. Before you are cast as a character, you have to fill in the blank in this sentence:

“I had a ______ relationship with Mara when she was alive.”

Choose from this list:

Loving
Hateful
Respectful
Bitter
Ambivalent
Codependent

Then the Director casts you as a character.

Then you answer a question.

“Why did you have this sort of relationship with Mara?”

Then, go into play with this question in mind: “In light of all this, how might Mara’s death have affected you?”

Obviously all these need to be worded better. (In particular, I’d like better words for “Ambivalent” and “Codependent”.) But this might be enough to give players a push out of the gate. Once they get into the game, they should have enough material to work with.

I hope.

(Thanks to Jason Morningstar for a helpful email conversation today on this topic.)

(I posted this in a different form on the Forge. But, hey, I figure that my loyal blog readers might have some ideas too. I win both ways!)

I’m still working on A Flower for Mara, and I’ve run into a possible issue. While A Flower for Mara isn’t GMless, it does not have GM prep. (Again, a running theme of my design.) This worked out fine in our playtest back in December; my group is pretty skilled at locating some point of conflict and running with it. However, I don’t want to rely on “good players” to make the game work. Rather, I want to make sure that I’m giving the players the necessary tools to get things moving.

Here’s my current thought.

Each player writes down three statements about his character: one about his Work, one about his Family, one about his Faith. Then, for each of these, the player does Y-Cubed. In other words, for each statement, ask the question “Why?”. Write down this statement. Ask “Why?” about that statement. Do this until you have three additional statements under Work, Family, and Faith. (This is a brainstorming technique used for screenwriting and such.) Then someone (either the player or the Director) chooses one of these columns to be the primary area of stress for this character in the story.

Example:

Caleb, Mara’s husband

Work: I’m a photographer

Why: It’s something that I enjoy doing, and it pays the bills.
Why: I like photography because I have a good eye for pictures.
Why: I tend to withdraw myself from a situation and see it like a photograph anyways.

Family: I’m an only child

Why: My parents were too busy for a family.
Why: My father was always traveling for business, and my mother was involved with the church.
Why: Being busy was their definition of success.

Faith: I’m Episcopalian

Why: My parents were Episcopalian.
Why: It fit their social class, and that was important to them.
Why: They were brought up to “know their place”, and they passed that down to me.

Area of stress: Family

I think that there’s something here, but it needs to be refined. Or maybe the whole thing needs to be scrapped, because there’s something better out there.

My concern with it is manifold. First, I don’t want this to turn into “playing before playing”. Second, it can be hard to get that third “Why?” without setting up for it or going far afield from the character. Finally, I might end up dictating character details about another player’s character. Oddly enough, I’m okay with this happening in play, because I have procedures to work it through there, but I’m a little leery about doing that at the prep stage.

The rest of the game structure works well, as far as I can currently tell, but this needs help.

Thoughts?