I've participated in games that have run for vastly different time periods. Some games I've been in or run have been epic in scale. Some have been so fast and intense that they've been a single memorable blip. I've been in games that ran too long, games that ended too soon, games that were unappreciated in their time, games that seemed great in the moment but were forgotten as soon as they wrapped.
Along the way, I have developed some opinions on how long a game should be.
Essentially, most of my answers are going to be somewhat vague, because different games require different things, but most of my answers will be phrased along the same lines. What should make a game longer and what should make a game shorter.
How long should a game be?
The basic answer is simple: long enough to tell the story. But that isn't a firm answer. There are stories that can unfold in three sessions and stories that take five years to tell. Overall, a game will suffer if it is compacted too much or stretched too much. A game that's too compacted will feel rushed and can be confusing too much detail in any one point, no time for processing. A game that's too stretched may end up losing momentum or having players not see how things fit together. How do you know how long the story takes? That's a hard question. I tend to break down stories into steps or dramatic beats. In order for the neighboring kingdom to invade, they need to manufacture a casus belli, amass troops, move those troops to the border, seize the first line of defense, the second line of defense, find a way to break through the final line of defense and then seize the capital, install a puppet government and demobilize their army except for an occupational force. So something as simple as an invasion has 9 steps to it. Some of those might be combined, some might require more than one game, but having the steps of the process laid out can tell you that the story of the invasion of a kingdom is going to take at least 8-10 months. Every story can be broken into parts, some big, some small.
Beyond just the story length answer are a number of other factors.
I think a LARP should be short enough to maintain a consistent central cast. There should be people there at the beginning who see the end. And while a little cast rotation can be a good thing in a healthy game(eliminating those who aren't interested, adding those who found out late), a game that can maintain the continuity of a central cast is generally better than one that can't.
A game should be short enough to avoid excessive power creep. I've spoken about the perils of experience systems. The longer games go on, the more power tends to become consolidated/imbalanced. This isn't just an XP problem, it can be a plot access problem. When the older players have lots of plot-centric influence they've built over chapters 1-4, those who start in act 5 may feel marginalized.
A game should be long enough for people to settle into their characters and factions. In games where players create their own characters, there is generally a period of settling into the character. In games with political factions, it takes time for groups to gel. A game should be long enough to allow that process. Some of this can be taken care of with pre-work, but pre-work is just that, work. It's much more interesting to play out a massive internal factional schism than to simply talk about it.
A game should be short enough to avoid staff burnout. It takes so much work to run a game that after a while, the staff can get very tired. Very long projects can feel stifling, as staff members(who tend to be creative project types)want to move on to the next project rather than lingering on the current one. This can be addressed by adding new staff, but that can dilute the central vision of the game.
A game should be short enough that every part serves a purpose. Not every game should be plot heavy episode after plot heavy episode, but there should be a minimum of filler content. Some sessions may be designed to be light on the eventfulness, a chance for people to explore facets of their characters or mix up the general patterns of the game. Things like bottle episodes or tabula rasa type games can be great for resets. IC event games like weddings or funerals or holiday celebrations can be fun in a game situation.
A game should be like an ideal gas, it should expand to fit its container. Running games in many contexts means tailoring the game to the time constraints. If you're running a game at a con, it should be a quick one shot, set up to develop and resolve within the time slot. If you're running a game at school, it should be able to be set up and completed in a semester. I've tailored timelines for games based on local weather patterns.
Overall, finding the right length for a game is a complicated process. I've already stated my opinions on bounded storytelling, but this is a great time to reiterate that. A game should have an end. Endless games are shapeless and memorable not as a whole, but as parts. If you're going to treat the game as a whole, you should think about the entire shape of it.
Showing posts with label metanarrative. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metanarrative. Show all posts
Friday, April 17, 2015
Monday, March 30, 2015
Building a Better Player
So much of what I talk about is about running games. But this one is for the players out there. I have learned a lot about what makes a good player, a bad player, a great player, a problem player. This is a brief collection of tips and recommendations for how to be a better player. Some of these are universal, some of these are my own personal taste, but these constitute my advice on how to be a better player.
Share Focus
Multi-participant games require sharing. That's something that you were probably taught in kindergarten, but it's a thing that is really important when it comes to gaming. What you really need to share in the RPG, whether tabletop or LARP, is focus. This is one of the things I picked up in improv, but basically, the narrative should shift from one character to another, from one player to another, as the story flows. Think of it like a conversation. Boring conversations happen when one person talks all the time and the other person can't get a word in edgewise, sharing focus in game is giving the other person time to speak.
This can be done passively, but it can also be done actively. Some of my favorite players are those who delegate story tasks, taking players who aren't actively engaged in things and putting the focus on them. Sometimes this can be a matter of faction leading, if you are a faction leader, having minions that you send to do things is a good methodology.
Ideally, everyone should get to do something at some point, but part of being a good player is being willing to share focus with your fellow players.
Yes, and...
Another concept from improv that I think makes for a better player is the incorporation of the principle of "Yes, And..." In improv, it's about taking what someone adds to a scene and building upon it. When someone says, "hey, look at that kangaroo" you don't say, "there's no kangaroo" because that sets the scene back to square one. Instead you say, "Yea, and I think he's stealing your car!" accepting what someone gives you and going with it.
This can be very useful because it's part of constructing the game world. Most games that I run have a framework world, one in which the large details are filled out, with the smaller details remaining nebulous until relevant. This is the case for nearly any fictional world. You don't know what color Harry Dresden's socks are until it matters for the story or characterization purposes. Filling in these details and building upon them can be an excellent thing for players to do in game.
Some Storytellers don't like when players fill things in, and that's a matter of taste, but I'm happy to have players drop in details like frequented restaurants with revolutionary themes, foul mouthed baby goats, or past experiences. By working together to fill in and following the principle of "Yes, And..." a player can help build the world around.
Engage with the Content
That said, one of my greatest frustrations in a game is when there is well developed content that is left unengaged with. So, as I said, I like to develop a framework world, one in which there are several overarching rules of reality, aspects of the world that are set in stone, and then collaboratively fill in details, often sharing them using a wiki or google document. I get very frustrated when players don't engage with this important information.
Now, I'm not holding Storytellers blameless on this. Every ST has fallen into the trap of writing an encyclopedia worth of content for a three session game and expecting players to know it backwards and forewards. I have recently begun to hold myself to a design principle based on the first page of Grant Morrison's All Star Superman, which sums up the essentials of Kal El's story in 8 words and 4 pictures.
But even that sometimes seems to miss the mark. Overall, as a Player, try your best to actually engage the game world content. Don't treat it as pointless or irrelevant. Read the backstory, look at the map, or at the very least, create a character that doesn't know history or geography if you want to not do so. Briefing history experts on basic history content "So George Washington is...?" slows down the flow of game and makes it less fun for everyone.
Meta for Good, Not For Self
Metagaming is a controversial subject and may get its own blog post at some point, but as a player, there are some overall guidelines. Metagaming is not always bad, especially if doing it improves the game for other participants and does not benefit your character too much. This is something best provided by example. I've had multiple occasions where a character wandered off mid action. The rest of the party was engaged in some dramatic scene that wasn't the specialty of the character and they decided that their character would leave and go elsewhere because it wasn't 'in-character' for them to stick around. This made it extremely difficult to maintain the game because that demand of focus split up what would otherwise be a really dramatic moment in game.
In this case, a little meta-gaming would allow everyone to remain part of the game session for a scene and wouldn't create any advantage for the player in question. Another model of metagaming comes in the engagement with the pace of plot. Players can try to achieve too much in a single session in a way that would skip over important parts of a story. Recognizing that progress is sometimes throttled in order to provide opportunities for focus sharing or to preserve a longer narrative thread can make it so more people can engage with things and help others. But sometimes this takes an understanding of the meta-aspects of game.
Now, don't ever meta-game for your own benefit. If anything, meta-game against yourself. If you the player see someone invisible in the room, don't restrict what you say, get really explicit. Spread information around and make it interesting.
CvC, not PvP
Games feature conflict. That's not news. But it's important that the conflict stay within the narrative. Many games fall apart because the conflict within the games becomes a conflict between players. The distinction I've seen in terms of terminology revolves around the term PvP. The term PvP refers to Plaver versus Player and is often used to distinguish games where conflict is commonly between player characters. However, I prefer the term CvC, Character versus Character. Something that is important to remember as a participant in a game is that all the participants should be working towards the same goal, telling a good story. When the characters get into conflict with each other, it should be in the service of story.
What this means as a player is two fold. One, Players should be selective about the conflict between characters. Not avoidant, but try to make it a matter of character tension, not a matter of player tension. Don't agitate against a player you don't like, follow a narrative reason for conflict. My own tendency is to choose my friends as my enemies.
Two, when a conflict comes to a head, make sure that you keep in mind that the person on the other end of the conflict is a person too. When you lose, even if your character dies, recognize that the fellow player didn't set out to hurt you, but that it was part of the narrative conflict. Even more important, when you win, recognize that the fellow player has been a good sport about things, give them that respect. Those actions can keep things from becoming too acrimonious between players.
Trust your Fellow Participants
Which ties into the larger principle of trust. In an ideal world, we'd all trust each other implicitly and give nobody a reason to distrust us, but we're often in a position where we don't really know our fellow participants very well. In these positions, I think it's very important to extend trust to people and try and craft an environment where everyone can work together. Try and find ways to build trust with other participants and treat everyone with respect.
Trust is one of the most essential elements to a game and there's a degree to which the level of trust limits the level of engagement in the game. Part of that is being clear when people violate your trust, but part of it is making sure that you don't violate other people's trust. Ultimately, one can only be accountable for one's own behavior, but as a player, that means that you should follow the golden rule of trust and not do anything that would violate someone else's trust.
Communicate with Your Storyteller!
Which also translates to the Storyteller. While this is one that I think sometimes depends on the player-ST relationship, but I feel that it's important to keep your Storyteller in the loop. As a storyteller, I can't set things up for your plans to succeed if I don't know what they are. I can't facilitate you having the dramatic confrontation with your nefarious uncle if I don't know that you want one. Some STs use foreknowledge of plans to screw over PCs, but that's not me and that's not something I recommend. Instead, being open with your ST allows the ST to set you up to succeed or fail or at least have an interesting experience.
And if there's something you don't like about what's going on, communicate with your Storyteller. I've had many games fall apart over issues that nobody mentioned. Storytellers aren't omniscient, we don't know everything that's going on in everybody's minds/experiences. If there is some aspect of a game that you want more or less of, if there's something going on that you wish wasn't or something not happening that you wish was, let the Storyteller know. If someone is ruining your experience, let the Storyteller know!
And if they don't take you seriously, or treat your statements with contempt and disrespect, leave the game. But a good Storyteller will want to respect the needs and wishes of the community. They might explain to you some reason that things are done a certain way, some aspect of pacing or experience with a given technique that explains why they've made a certain decision, but they might also say, wow, I hadn't thought of it from that angle. That's a very good suggestion, I'm going to think about that and maybe incorporate it. But please, communicate with your Storyteller.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Thorny Questions: Handling PC Death in LARP
Thorny Questions is the series that addresses aspects of game that are complicated and don't present easy answers. This one is about the complicated question of Player Character Death in LARP, focusing especially on the worrisome issue of PC on PC violence.
I have seen players driven from games based on mishandled PC deaths. I have also seen games fall apart because unkillable PCs dominated the game and could not be removed. I have seen games that did not allow PCs to die at game. I have seen games where the senseless killing of PCs was treated like hunting for sport. I have seen PC deaths that have reverberated through narratives. I have seen PC deaths that were instantly forgotten. I have seen PC deaths that ruin games for third parties. I have seen PC deaths that have transformed people's characters for the better. All of this death has given me some strong feelings on the subject of the killing of PCs, but not necessarily clear ones.
1. Consent is Sexy
So, my first big thought on the issue is that basically, PC death should be consensual. This isn't to say the the character should agree, few characters are invested in their own death, but that the player should be given a chance to consent, especially when another PC is holding the knife(directly or indirectly). Part of this is having a read of the game and requiring notice. Essentially saying, no PC can kill another PC without prior permission and discussion. The player(s) who want to do the killing talk to the Storyteller and the Storyteller can then consider.
There are a number of potential avenues at this point, as well. Sometimes, a target is not necessarily specific[we need a human sacrifice to appease the volcano!] and the Storyteller might know about another player who has expressed an interest in switching characters. Then consent can be immediate. Sometimes, there might be weird assumptions [we must kill the rabbit! he has all our cereal!] and the Storyteller might be able to encourage further investigation and prevent a ridiculous and painful misunderstanding. But at that point, the Storyteller can speak with the potential victim about the death of their character.
This should be true for similar consequences that aren't technically death, but have the same effective result[staking vampires and hiding their bodies away comes to mind]. If the player is not on board, then the killing does not go down. Now, I generally think that there is a long time window that should be observed. If a player is considering such an act, then they should give at least a days notice ahead of time, so that narrative space can be cleared and Storyteller time can be devoted to this potential event. Now, Crimes of Passion become a different story. A situation that fairly escalates to mutual attempted murder is one that can potentially be negotiated in a shorter time frame, but even then, consent is key.
2. Sic Semper Tyrannis
However, there is a flip side to this consent based approach. Yes, a player should not have their player killed without their consent, but on the flipside, this is theoretically open to abuse. Ultimately, there is an important narrative balance to be struck and immunity to death should not be immunity to consequences.
To spin out a nightmare scenario of this sort, the prince of the city is a tyrant and rules with an iron fist. But nobody can take him down, the political structure doesn't allow for democracy, only violent overthrow, and even pooling all their money to hire the best assassin in the universe doesn't work because the player of the Prince refuses to consent to their character being killed. This leaves other players frustrated with the game and feeling like they lack agency.
A situation like that is extreme, but highlights that there are times when there is a narrative need to kill. Not all situations where a character would kill another represents a narrative failure. They can instead be narrative climaxes, the point where an extreme event is required for an extreme situation.
To that end, nobody should have perfect plot armor, in that nobody should be able to abuse a system to escape narrative consequences within game. This is a difficult situation, but one that is important to understand, because without narrative consequences, extreme power imbalances can develop between players and those extreme power imbalances can lead to disinvestment in the game. To that end, it's important to sometimes let people know that while their character's story isn't done, a chapter is and then try and work together on making the next chapter one that the player is interested in.
But nobody gets plot armor that protects them from ruining other people's fun.
3. You Get What Anybody Gets. You Get A Lifetime.
So, how does one approach this in practice? As a player, as an ST, etc. Well, there's no universal approach, but there are a few potential tips. Your mileage may vary on these, but they are the best I got.
As a player, try to have a sense of your character's narrative role and place in their personal journey. Is dying now being cut down in their prime? Is it falling right before they achieve their goal? What would their last thought be? Try and be a meaningful presence in other character's lives and be the Eddard Stark you want to see in the world.
On the flip side, as an ST, try and reward the player who dies gracefully. Recognize that they are making a personal sacrifice for the good of the story and also recognize that this is the kind of player that you want in game. Overall, you should make sure that losing a character does not deny them participation in the greater narrative of the game and try and find a way of incorporating a new character that gives them a good way in. Also, if appropriate, consider a funeral scene. Fictional closure works the same as real closure.
Also, an important aspect of this is to make sure there's not significant splashover. I once spent an entire game trying to protect a character from assassination. At the end, I learned that the player had decided not to play the character any more and that no matter what I did, the character was going to be killed, even if the STs had to bend reality in order to make it happen. The whole experience left me deeply disinvested in the game, because it felt like my efforts meant nothing and I'd wasted my time all game long. If I'd known ahead of time, I would have played the entire night differently and gotten a satisfactory experience out of it. Sometimes, things affect more than one person.
Overall, this is about transparency and forethought. Having a plan for dealing with eventualities is an important part of running games.
I have seen players driven from games based on mishandled PC deaths. I have also seen games fall apart because unkillable PCs dominated the game and could not be removed. I have seen games that did not allow PCs to die at game. I have seen games where the senseless killing of PCs was treated like hunting for sport. I have seen PC deaths that have reverberated through narratives. I have seen PC deaths that were instantly forgotten. I have seen PC deaths that ruin games for third parties. I have seen PC deaths that have transformed people's characters for the better. All of this death has given me some strong feelings on the subject of the killing of PCs, but not necessarily clear ones.
1. Consent is Sexy
So, my first big thought on the issue is that basically, PC death should be consensual. This isn't to say the the character should agree, few characters are invested in their own death, but that the player should be given a chance to consent, especially when another PC is holding the knife(directly or indirectly). Part of this is having a read of the game and requiring notice. Essentially saying, no PC can kill another PC without prior permission and discussion. The player(s) who want to do the killing talk to the Storyteller and the Storyteller can then consider.
There are a number of potential avenues at this point, as well. Sometimes, a target is not necessarily specific[we need a human sacrifice to appease the volcano!] and the Storyteller might know about another player who has expressed an interest in switching characters. Then consent can be immediate. Sometimes, there might be weird assumptions [we must kill the rabbit! he has all our cereal!] and the Storyteller might be able to encourage further investigation and prevent a ridiculous and painful misunderstanding. But at that point, the Storyteller can speak with the potential victim about the death of their character.
This should be true for similar consequences that aren't technically death, but have the same effective result[staking vampires and hiding their bodies away comes to mind]. If the player is not on board, then the killing does not go down. Now, I generally think that there is a long time window that should be observed. If a player is considering such an act, then they should give at least a days notice ahead of time, so that narrative space can be cleared and Storyteller time can be devoted to this potential event. Now, Crimes of Passion become a different story. A situation that fairly escalates to mutual attempted murder is one that can potentially be negotiated in a shorter time frame, but even then, consent is key.
2. Sic Semper Tyrannis
However, there is a flip side to this consent based approach. Yes, a player should not have their player killed without their consent, but on the flipside, this is theoretically open to abuse. Ultimately, there is an important narrative balance to be struck and immunity to death should not be immunity to consequences.
To spin out a nightmare scenario of this sort, the prince of the city is a tyrant and rules with an iron fist. But nobody can take him down, the political structure doesn't allow for democracy, only violent overthrow, and even pooling all their money to hire the best assassin in the universe doesn't work because the player of the Prince refuses to consent to their character being killed. This leaves other players frustrated with the game and feeling like they lack agency.
A situation like that is extreme, but highlights that there are times when there is a narrative need to kill. Not all situations where a character would kill another represents a narrative failure. They can instead be narrative climaxes, the point where an extreme event is required for an extreme situation.
To that end, nobody should have perfect plot armor, in that nobody should be able to abuse a system to escape narrative consequences within game. This is a difficult situation, but one that is important to understand, because without narrative consequences, extreme power imbalances can develop between players and those extreme power imbalances can lead to disinvestment in the game. To that end, it's important to sometimes let people know that while their character's story isn't done, a chapter is and then try and work together on making the next chapter one that the player is interested in.
But nobody gets plot armor that protects them from ruining other people's fun.
3. You Get What Anybody Gets. You Get A Lifetime.
So, how does one approach this in practice? As a player, as an ST, etc. Well, there's no universal approach, but there are a few potential tips. Your mileage may vary on these, but they are the best I got.
As a player, try to have a sense of your character's narrative role and place in their personal journey. Is dying now being cut down in their prime? Is it falling right before they achieve their goal? What would their last thought be? Try and be a meaningful presence in other character's lives and be the Eddard Stark you want to see in the world.
On the flip side, as an ST, try and reward the player who dies gracefully. Recognize that they are making a personal sacrifice for the good of the story and also recognize that this is the kind of player that you want in game. Overall, you should make sure that losing a character does not deny them participation in the greater narrative of the game and try and find a way of incorporating a new character that gives them a good way in. Also, if appropriate, consider a funeral scene. Fictional closure works the same as real closure.
Also, an important aspect of this is to make sure there's not significant splashover. I once spent an entire game trying to protect a character from assassination. At the end, I learned that the player had decided not to play the character any more and that no matter what I did, the character was going to be killed, even if the STs had to bend reality in order to make it happen. The whole experience left me deeply disinvested in the game, because it felt like my efforts meant nothing and I'd wasted my time all game long. If I'd known ahead of time, I would have played the entire night differently and gotten a satisfactory experience out of it. Sometimes, things affect more than one person.
Overall, this is about transparency and forethought. Having a plan for dealing with eventualities is an important part of running games.
Friday, October 31, 2014
What Goes Into Running an Ongoing LARP
It takes a lot of time, planning, effort and bureaucracy to run an Ongoing LARP. Over the years, I have seen many LARPs wither and die for various reasons, some of my own LARPs have died noble or ignoble deaths for various reasons. In my experience, there are five general categories of labor necessary to run an Ongoing LARP. Not all of these have to be done in the same way or by a single person, but missing any of these can be a problem.
Logistics
One of the most evident aspects of running a LARP involves the management of the logistics of game. While the most evident, this can be complicated, depending on the context of running the game. The most important aspect of this is creating a sustainable bureaucracy. Making sure that all the materials for game are prepared properly and that there is a workflow that means the work always gets done.
Site Management and Liaison. All games require locations. Sometimes, this is as simple as the basement of the Storyteller's house, but regardless, all locations require some degree of arrangement. This can mean the arrangement of payment for using the site, the reservation of the site in advance, regular communication with site managers, walking the space before and afterwards to make sure the site is not damaged, arranging payment if the site is damaged. A LARP without a site quickly stops being tenable.
Budget. It is the responsibility of the Storytellers to make sure the budget of the game is workable. Games have expenses. Site fees, printing, sets and props, food and drink, etc. Most Storytellers are not compensated for their work, even though they put in a lot of time for every game. Storytellers who do not make their budget generally have to pay for things out of pocket, which can really sink a game.
Setup. Storytellers are responsible for all of the elements of setup in gamespace. I usually arrive to the gamespace at least an hour before players are told to arrive so that I can put together the set and set up food and drink and check-in before they arrive. At the end of game, I have to pack up everything and transport it home.
Materials. Most games have some sort of required materials, whether it's character sheets, nametags, arm bands, beads and safety pins, etc. As the Storyteller, it is your responsibility to make sure those are there and available. This often requires printing things ahead of time, purchasing materials from stores,and at the very least, transporting materials to the gamesite. This can mean creating props that need to be present, or arranging for food if a game includes it.
Teamwork
One of the major responsibilities as a Head Storyteller is arranging for the collaborative work of the Storytelling staff. A storytelling staff that does not have a good collaborative relationship can end up creating additional work for the Head Storyteller and disrupt the workflow of the game. While there are methods of smoothing these processes, all of them require additional work at the outset.
Staff Selection. One of the biggest responsibilities as a Head Storyteller is choosing a staff to work with. My personal belief is that it is important to create a culture of collaboration, finding a staff whose methods of creative collaboration match yours. If you want people filling very different roles with absolute authority over their territory, then choose staff accordingly. If you want a collaborative group that meets and follows a 'yes, and...' strategy of idea development, then choose staff accordingly. One of the big obstacles that can obstruct a game is a mismatch of collaborative styles and it can make more work for all involved rather than less. This is one of the most important aspects of running a game and one of the easiest ways to make the game harder to run.
Staff Meetings. All staffs need to meet in some way. It is very important for information sharing, so that every member of the storytelling staff knows about every character and every potential plot development. My personal philosophy is broadly shared narrative responsibility, where everyone is familiar with every narrative thread, which requires work at a meeting to share information. Overall, I would not say that there is a prescribed number of meetings between games, but establishing a regular meeting schedule that works for collaboration is more or less required and is the responsibility of the Storytelling staff. Staff meetings allow for discussion of game topics in a way that gets everyone on the same page and prevents contradictions.
Collaborative Materials Management. A Storytelling staff needs shared materials. There are all sorts of materials that are important for collaboration, from plot outlines to character sheets to metaphysical notes. Most television shows have something called a show bible, it outlines the different aspects of the world as they have been defined. Collaborative materials can be the equivalent of a show bible, allowing easy reference and discussion. I've seen Storytelling staffs use wikis for this purpose, but I love google drive, myself. It allows a lot of selective permissions, so information can be selectively shared with players. For instance, if there were a secret document, writing it ahead of time for planning purposes is useful, so the Storytellers can refer back if necessary, but then a player who found a copy could get access to the document itself. This is also important for sharing general information with players. You can write 10,000 pages of backstory, but if nobody has access to it, it won't influence their play.
Supervising the Narrative
You might think to yourself, what trouble can an unsupervised narrative get up to? And the answer is "none" and that's the problem. One of the most important roles of the Storyteller is the holistic approach to the game narrative, finding ways to make sure the narrative stays coherent, that things mesh in some way, that there is a reason for being. In my experience, this is best achievable by setting the context for interaction before people create characters. It's hard to run a comedy of manners when everyone has created hard-bitten police detectives. Setting up the narrative context at the beginning allows for easier narrative supervision in the long run, because it sets up straightforward boundaries.
Interweaving Stories. So, the main aspect of this is interweaving stories. Players will come up with all manner of ideas, and it's part of the job of the Storyteller to find ways to fit those ideas into a single world. Part of the responsibility is finding ways that the suggestions and ideas of players can fit into the larger context. Sometimes, this means adding specifics to general ideas. When someone says they want to have a corrupt mentor, the Storyteller can say, "Yes, Lord Refa was your mentor!" and add the specific. Sometimes, this means changing details to fit the game world. When someone says they want to live on the Upper East Side of Chicago, you say "There isn't actually a North East side of Chicago, but the Gold Coast is probably the equivalent in terms of income." Some of the best examples involve tying two unrelated characters together, or say, noting that two people spying on the bus station might run into each other as well as into their quarry. Regardless, interwoven stories are some of the best kind of stories.
Pacing a Story. Stories don't pace themselves and having just the right amount of story for a given session/season/game is an art form. It's very possible to have too much story in a session, where everything is happening and things are so chaotic nobody knows what's going on. It's also possible to have too little, where the narrative stakes for a given session are resolved so quickly that the rest of the game is idle. Or that there simply isn't enough to engage the number of people present. I personally use two main tools for this. I have an overarching spreadsheet that tracks plots over time, making sure that things happen in order but not too quickly or slowly, and I have a beat sheet that I write up for every game, which details the events of the evening in 30 minute chunks. Overall, pacing a story is a way of maintaining stable momentum. A game must always have movement or it will stagnate, but too much movement and it can shake itself to pieces.
Information Sharing. One of the important specific aspects of running a game is sharing information in game. On the one hand, this can be a matter of setting up the world. Making sure that everyone is on the same page regarding things can be as easy as setting up a basic website to share basic information. But this also involves introducing new information to game. Clues or hints have to come from somewhere, and it can be hard to work in information without being too obvious or too obtuse. One of the rules of thumb I personally follow is to share information in at least two places, rather than giving it to only one person. Overall, making sure that information makes its way into game is a Storyteller responsibility, because generally speaking, the Storyteller should know all the game's secrets better than the players.
Player Management
So, the ideas that players need management may seem odd, and I want to be clear, this is primarily a matter of working with channels of information. Being a Storyteller isn't being some sort of puppet master, manipulating everyone, but the Storyteller is often the only person who is in contact with absolutely everybody in game. For larger games, this is often a matter of several people sharing the role, but generally, every player should have at least one contact point within the staff.
Sustaining Communication. This is useful just to maintain lines of communication. Whether it's creating and maintaining a mailing list, a message board, facebook group or just a list of email addresses for contacting people, it is the role of the Storyteller to maintain communications with all participants, making sure they know when and where game is and details like game fee.
Player Encouragement. Sometimes, players might become disengaged from game, not feel like their efforts are being noted. Communication between game can help re-engage a player with the game. It is part of the Storyteller job to do that encouragement. I like to do emails leading up to game with some players, to give them a sense of motion coming into game. This can be a good way of encouraging participation and giving them some energy to bring into game.
Walking the Space. One of the key skills for running a LARP is being able to influence the session on the fly. Adding or subtracting narrative momentum by giving emotional feedback or adding new information can make a better game. During game, it's important to walk the space, see what's going on, know who is involved in things and who isn't. That way, nudges can be made, players can be given hooks to follow.
Community Support
Being a Storyteller makes you a community leader, whether you intend to become one or not. It's not the only community where the ability to tell a good story and organize a bunch of people serves as qualification for leadership, but it's more direct than most in that way.
Attending to Player Problems. Sometimes players present problems. They may be interacting with other players in a way that makes them uncomfortable. They may be bullies or they may be constantly complaining in a way that makes the game not fun for other participants. As a Storyteller, it is your job to deal with these problems. Ideally, it is your job to notice potential problems and try to prevent them from becoming game breaking. I have seen games fall apart over a single player unknowingly acting in a way that offended others. Additionally, sometimes this is a matter of identifying potential problems such as inappropriate narrative actions. For instance, I don't allow rape in games that I run. Period. As a narrative theme it always causes problems. If someone indicates that their character would do such a thing, I would tell them no before it could possibly become the massive problem that it would become.
Keeping Lines of Communication Open. One of the keys to community support is making sure that the lines of communication are open and known to be open. Players should always be free to let Storytellers know if they are having problems. Any situation where a player is having issues and doesn't speak to a Storyteller because they don't feel they can is a failure in my mind.
Being the Bigger Person. Along with that, however, is the responsibility to be fair, to be calm and to listen. Being in a position of authority within a community means being the bigger person sometimes, not letting your own feelings or reactions cloud your actions. Don't play favorites. Don't take issues too personally. Don't let your own relationships with players get in the way of running the game in front of you. I'm not saying to ignore your own feelings or reactions, but the power of Storytelling comes with strings attached. With power comes responsibility and within a game, the power of an ST can be nigh absolute, with few checks and balances.
What to Take Away?
So, what do I want people to take away from this article. Ultimately, I want you to know that Storytelling is a lot of work. There are a lot of aspects of the job that I didn't know about until I started doing it myself and there are aspects of it that I learn as i continue to run games. This isn't meant to be the sum total of all responsibilities. I've done things like buy event insurance and get people medical attention as a Storyteller. I've been a relationship counselor, a social skills educator and an electronics repairman all as part of the general role of Storyteller. But do keep in mind that your Storytellers do all of these things, generally on a volunteer basis.
Logistics
One of the most evident aspects of running a LARP involves the management of the logistics of game. While the most evident, this can be complicated, depending on the context of running the game. The most important aspect of this is creating a sustainable bureaucracy. Making sure that all the materials for game are prepared properly and that there is a workflow that means the work always gets done.
Site Management and Liaison. All games require locations. Sometimes, this is as simple as the basement of the Storyteller's house, but regardless, all locations require some degree of arrangement. This can mean the arrangement of payment for using the site, the reservation of the site in advance, regular communication with site managers, walking the space before and afterwards to make sure the site is not damaged, arranging payment if the site is damaged. A LARP without a site quickly stops being tenable.
Budget. It is the responsibility of the Storytellers to make sure the budget of the game is workable. Games have expenses. Site fees, printing, sets and props, food and drink, etc. Most Storytellers are not compensated for their work, even though they put in a lot of time for every game. Storytellers who do not make their budget generally have to pay for things out of pocket, which can really sink a game.
Setup. Storytellers are responsible for all of the elements of setup in gamespace. I usually arrive to the gamespace at least an hour before players are told to arrive so that I can put together the set and set up food and drink and check-in before they arrive. At the end of game, I have to pack up everything and transport it home.
Materials. Most games have some sort of required materials, whether it's character sheets, nametags, arm bands, beads and safety pins, etc. As the Storyteller, it is your responsibility to make sure those are there and available. This often requires printing things ahead of time, purchasing materials from stores,and at the very least, transporting materials to the gamesite. This can mean creating props that need to be present, or arranging for food if a game includes it.
Teamwork
One of the major responsibilities as a Head Storyteller is arranging for the collaborative work of the Storytelling staff. A storytelling staff that does not have a good collaborative relationship can end up creating additional work for the Head Storyteller and disrupt the workflow of the game. While there are methods of smoothing these processes, all of them require additional work at the outset.
Staff Selection. One of the biggest responsibilities as a Head Storyteller is choosing a staff to work with. My personal belief is that it is important to create a culture of collaboration, finding a staff whose methods of creative collaboration match yours. If you want people filling very different roles with absolute authority over their territory, then choose staff accordingly. If you want a collaborative group that meets and follows a 'yes, and...' strategy of idea development, then choose staff accordingly. One of the big obstacles that can obstruct a game is a mismatch of collaborative styles and it can make more work for all involved rather than less. This is one of the most important aspects of running a game and one of the easiest ways to make the game harder to run.
Staff Meetings. All staffs need to meet in some way. It is very important for information sharing, so that every member of the storytelling staff knows about every character and every potential plot development. My personal philosophy is broadly shared narrative responsibility, where everyone is familiar with every narrative thread, which requires work at a meeting to share information. Overall, I would not say that there is a prescribed number of meetings between games, but establishing a regular meeting schedule that works for collaboration is more or less required and is the responsibility of the Storytelling staff. Staff meetings allow for discussion of game topics in a way that gets everyone on the same page and prevents contradictions.
Collaborative Materials Management. A Storytelling staff needs shared materials. There are all sorts of materials that are important for collaboration, from plot outlines to character sheets to metaphysical notes. Most television shows have something called a show bible, it outlines the different aspects of the world as they have been defined. Collaborative materials can be the equivalent of a show bible, allowing easy reference and discussion. I've seen Storytelling staffs use wikis for this purpose, but I love google drive, myself. It allows a lot of selective permissions, so information can be selectively shared with players. For instance, if there were a secret document, writing it ahead of time for planning purposes is useful, so the Storytellers can refer back if necessary, but then a player who found a copy could get access to the document itself. This is also important for sharing general information with players. You can write 10,000 pages of backstory, but if nobody has access to it, it won't influence their play.
Supervising the Narrative
You might think to yourself, what trouble can an unsupervised narrative get up to? And the answer is "none" and that's the problem. One of the most important roles of the Storyteller is the holistic approach to the game narrative, finding ways to make sure the narrative stays coherent, that things mesh in some way, that there is a reason for being. In my experience, this is best achievable by setting the context for interaction before people create characters. It's hard to run a comedy of manners when everyone has created hard-bitten police detectives. Setting up the narrative context at the beginning allows for easier narrative supervision in the long run, because it sets up straightforward boundaries.
Interweaving Stories. So, the main aspect of this is interweaving stories. Players will come up with all manner of ideas, and it's part of the job of the Storyteller to find ways to fit those ideas into a single world. Part of the responsibility is finding ways that the suggestions and ideas of players can fit into the larger context. Sometimes, this means adding specifics to general ideas. When someone says they want to have a corrupt mentor, the Storyteller can say, "Yes, Lord Refa was your mentor!" and add the specific. Sometimes, this means changing details to fit the game world. When someone says they want to live on the Upper East Side of Chicago, you say "There isn't actually a North East side of Chicago, but the Gold Coast is probably the equivalent in terms of income." Some of the best examples involve tying two unrelated characters together, or say, noting that two people spying on the bus station might run into each other as well as into their quarry. Regardless, interwoven stories are some of the best kind of stories.
Pacing a Story. Stories don't pace themselves and having just the right amount of story for a given session/season/game is an art form. It's very possible to have too much story in a session, where everything is happening and things are so chaotic nobody knows what's going on. It's also possible to have too little, where the narrative stakes for a given session are resolved so quickly that the rest of the game is idle. Or that there simply isn't enough to engage the number of people present. I personally use two main tools for this. I have an overarching spreadsheet that tracks plots over time, making sure that things happen in order but not too quickly or slowly, and I have a beat sheet that I write up for every game, which details the events of the evening in 30 minute chunks. Overall, pacing a story is a way of maintaining stable momentum. A game must always have movement or it will stagnate, but too much movement and it can shake itself to pieces.
Information Sharing. One of the important specific aspects of running a game is sharing information in game. On the one hand, this can be a matter of setting up the world. Making sure that everyone is on the same page regarding things can be as easy as setting up a basic website to share basic information. But this also involves introducing new information to game. Clues or hints have to come from somewhere, and it can be hard to work in information without being too obvious or too obtuse. One of the rules of thumb I personally follow is to share information in at least two places, rather than giving it to only one person. Overall, making sure that information makes its way into game is a Storyteller responsibility, because generally speaking, the Storyteller should know all the game's secrets better than the players.
Player Management
So, the ideas that players need management may seem odd, and I want to be clear, this is primarily a matter of working with channels of information. Being a Storyteller isn't being some sort of puppet master, manipulating everyone, but the Storyteller is often the only person who is in contact with absolutely everybody in game. For larger games, this is often a matter of several people sharing the role, but generally, every player should have at least one contact point within the staff.
Sustaining Communication. This is useful just to maintain lines of communication. Whether it's creating and maintaining a mailing list, a message board, facebook group or just a list of email addresses for contacting people, it is the role of the Storyteller to maintain communications with all participants, making sure they know when and where game is and details like game fee.
Player Encouragement. Sometimes, players might become disengaged from game, not feel like their efforts are being noted. Communication between game can help re-engage a player with the game. It is part of the Storyteller job to do that encouragement. I like to do emails leading up to game with some players, to give them a sense of motion coming into game. This can be a good way of encouraging participation and giving them some energy to bring into game.
Walking the Space. One of the key skills for running a LARP is being able to influence the session on the fly. Adding or subtracting narrative momentum by giving emotional feedback or adding new information can make a better game. During game, it's important to walk the space, see what's going on, know who is involved in things and who isn't. That way, nudges can be made, players can be given hooks to follow.
Community Support
Being a Storyteller makes you a community leader, whether you intend to become one or not. It's not the only community where the ability to tell a good story and organize a bunch of people serves as qualification for leadership, but it's more direct than most in that way.
Attending to Player Problems. Sometimes players present problems. They may be interacting with other players in a way that makes them uncomfortable. They may be bullies or they may be constantly complaining in a way that makes the game not fun for other participants. As a Storyteller, it is your job to deal with these problems. Ideally, it is your job to notice potential problems and try to prevent them from becoming game breaking. I have seen games fall apart over a single player unknowingly acting in a way that offended others. Additionally, sometimes this is a matter of identifying potential problems such as inappropriate narrative actions. For instance, I don't allow rape in games that I run. Period. As a narrative theme it always causes problems. If someone indicates that their character would do such a thing, I would tell them no before it could possibly become the massive problem that it would become.
Keeping Lines of Communication Open. One of the keys to community support is making sure that the lines of communication are open and known to be open. Players should always be free to let Storytellers know if they are having problems. Any situation where a player is having issues and doesn't speak to a Storyteller because they don't feel they can is a failure in my mind.
Being the Bigger Person. Along with that, however, is the responsibility to be fair, to be calm and to listen. Being in a position of authority within a community means being the bigger person sometimes, not letting your own feelings or reactions cloud your actions. Don't play favorites. Don't take issues too personally. Don't let your own relationships with players get in the way of running the game in front of you. I'm not saying to ignore your own feelings or reactions, but the power of Storytelling comes with strings attached. With power comes responsibility and within a game, the power of an ST can be nigh absolute, with few checks and balances.
What to Take Away?
So, what do I want people to take away from this article. Ultimately, I want you to know that Storytelling is a lot of work. There are a lot of aspects of the job that I didn't know about until I started doing it myself and there are aspects of it that I learn as i continue to run games. This isn't meant to be the sum total of all responsibilities. I've done things like buy event insurance and get people medical attention as a Storyteller. I've been a relationship counselor, a social skills educator and an electronics repairman all as part of the general role of Storyteller. But do keep in mind that your Storytellers do all of these things, generally on a volunteer basis.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Bounded Long Form Storytelling in Games
I've had a bit of radio silence here for personal gaming reasons(I didn't want the situations that I'm dealing with in my ongoing games to appear here and I couldn't quite keep them out of my thoughts). However, I'm returning with a bit of an examination of meta-narrative philosophies and my own approach to things. I've recently been revisiting the work of two of my greatest influences, Chris Claremont and J. Michael Straczynski. Looking at how these two different writers used methods of long form storytelling [one strictly bounded, one hurt by unboundedness] has helped me reflect on my own approach to writing games and my philosophy of stories.
First off, this is going to contain spoilers, admittedly, they are for a television series that went off the air when I was in college and a run of comics that I first picked up in middle school, but spoilers nonetheless. Especially for Babylon 5. If you haven't watched it, go do so. I'll wait. No. Go back, the first season is a little light and the special effects budget for the entire season was less than one episode of NextGen, go finish the series. Great, I'll continue.
Long Form Story
Reflecting on these naratives, I see exactly where I get a lot of my preferences for stories. My love of ensemble casts, my enjoyment of material being teased before being introduced, my occasional love of overblown monologues. But I especially see my own love for serial storytelling. The reason that I love ongoing games and ongoing media is that there are certain types of stories that tell much better in that form. If you look at the development of a character like Storm, from naive 'goddess' to team conscience to team leader to hard edged pragmatist to hero struggling to retain identity without powers to ultimate redemption/restoration, you can't fit that into a non-serialized story. It's impossible to tell that story without time passing and single episode stories are generally very bad at portraying the passage of time. The same is true for nearly every character in Babylon 5. The character arc of G'Kar from sleazy warmonger to reluctant prophet, the journey of Franklin through his addiction and recovery, the change between Lennier's humble beginnings and tragic ending. All of these can only occur in a story that includes time.
In long form storytelling, there is a chance to stretch out, to allow character aspects to mature, to age, to settle before being shaken up again. That freedom to stretch out and develop characters means that as you get to the climax of the story, the characters are more fully realized and thus the stakes of the narrative are much higher.
Bounded vs. Unbounded
However, not all Long Form Storytelling is quite the same. One of the aspects of my re-read of Marvel's back catalog has reminded me of are the perils of unbounded long form storytelling. So, when I call a story bounded, I mean that it has a pre-defined beginning middle and end. There is a sense of when the story starts being told and when it stops. In non-serial storytelling, this is generally fairly simple. The movie goes for 2 hours and then is done, maybe with room for a sequel. In the case of most Long Form Storytelling, there is no expected end. This is the soap opera model, the idea that so long as the good will of the network exists, that there should never be an end. As Gordie says in Stand by Me "Wagon Train's a really cool show, but did you notice they never get anywhere? They just keep wagon training."
This sort of unbounded storytelling, where there is no defined end point to the story almost always breaks down at some point. It's so common and well known that there is a quick cultural shorthand for it, jumping the shark. Marvel and D.C. comics are among the worst for this, with characters first introduced in the 1960's still bumming around as if they haven't aged more than a decade. And every story decision has been undone by the needs of later stories. Right now, I have to do extensive research to figure out if there are any of the X-men who haven't died and been reborn(I count four out of the thirteen X-Men from the end of Giant-Size X-Men #1's "What are we going to do with thirteen X Men?"). This sort of backtracking is more or less required for unbounded storytelling, because what made sense 3 years ago may not fit with the needs of the present.
Instead, I prefer my stories Bounded. Part of this comes from my experience in improv theater. One of the biggest rules we followed in improv was that every scene should have a beginning, middle and end. By sticking with a Bounded story, one can easily plan towards an end rather than plan for forever.
Retaining Interactivity and Momentum
However, planning a long form game provides some of its own issues. First, how do you plan a game, where one of the major attractions is interactivity, to have a bounded story? Second, how do you maintain momentum in a game with a bounded story, not allowing things to happen too slowly or too quickly? Third, how do you write a story compelling enough to attract Neil Gaiman(Day of the Dead) or Joss Whedon(Astonishing X-Men) to write an episode/run for you?
Well, as to the first, one of the philosophies I tend to write around is "not if, but how". In games I run, there are events that will happen, elements of change to the status quo that are in motion regardless of how the players act. The key to writing such stories is to make sure that the players are in a position where their actions influence how the status quo changes. At the same time, never make a story element completely contingent, as in, if nobody ever tells you they investigate, then nobody influences anything. Sometimes, this requires literally handing decisions to individuals or groups. Sometimes, it's just about reminding players of the stakes and giving them the necessary information.
As to the second, "The avalanche has already started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote." Events need to be in motion, but not so quickly that they overtake everything. Part of this is looking at the arc as a whole. I use a spreadsheet that has the entire arc written out, every game from beginning to end. That spreadsheet helps me set the pace and know that I have time remaining and can keep on a pace to finish. It helps me know when I have time to stretch things out, and when I have to push things forward. It also allows me to plan when to introduce elements that add to the momentum or create new wrinkles. However, remember to draw maps but leave gaps. The spreadsheet should be more or less complete for the session that is coming up next, partially filled in for the next handful, and then more broadly outlined for those beyond. Allow for the ways that changes will change plans. I will write more about this when I write about memorable antagonists, but villains should make plans of action, not simply have things happen regardless of surrounding events. Knowing how an antagonist adapts is part of writing a good bounded story/
As to the third, I'm still trying.
The Beginning in the End, the End in the Beginning
The central philosophy of a Bounded Long Form Story is simple. In retrospect, you should be able to see the End in the Beginning and the Beginning in the End. There should be elements of what happens right at the outset that set the course for how things proceed and conclude. And there should be elements of how things conclude that connect back to the beginning of the story. And in the end, you should be able to point to the places along the way that things were different because the player characters were present.
I return again to Babylon 5. Londo's entire character arc, from decadent political outcast to secretive warmonger to corrupted emperor is entirely driven by the presence of his nephew on Ragesh III, invaded by the Narns in the first episode of the first season. His fall from grace all stemmed from that one simple thing.
Stories that fit together and have a clear sense of direction can achieve the best of what serial storytelling has to offer.
First off, this is going to contain spoilers, admittedly, they are for a television series that went off the air when I was in college and a run of comics that I first picked up in middle school, but spoilers nonetheless. Especially for Babylon 5. If you haven't watched it, go do so. I'll wait. No. Go back, the first season is a little light and the special effects budget for the entire season was less than one episode of NextGen, go finish the series. Great, I'll continue.
Long Form Story
Reflecting on these naratives, I see exactly where I get a lot of my preferences for stories. My love of ensemble casts, my enjoyment of material being teased before being introduced, my occasional love of overblown monologues. But I especially see my own love for serial storytelling. The reason that I love ongoing games and ongoing media is that there are certain types of stories that tell much better in that form. If you look at the development of a character like Storm, from naive 'goddess' to team conscience to team leader to hard edged pragmatist to hero struggling to retain identity without powers to ultimate redemption/restoration, you can't fit that into a non-serialized story. It's impossible to tell that story without time passing and single episode stories are generally very bad at portraying the passage of time. The same is true for nearly every character in Babylon 5. The character arc of G'Kar from sleazy warmonger to reluctant prophet, the journey of Franklin through his addiction and recovery, the change between Lennier's humble beginnings and tragic ending. All of these can only occur in a story that includes time.
In long form storytelling, there is a chance to stretch out, to allow character aspects to mature, to age, to settle before being shaken up again. That freedom to stretch out and develop characters means that as you get to the climax of the story, the characters are more fully realized and thus the stakes of the narrative are much higher.
Bounded vs. Unbounded
However, not all Long Form Storytelling is quite the same. One of the aspects of my re-read of Marvel's back catalog has reminded me of are the perils of unbounded long form storytelling. So, when I call a story bounded, I mean that it has a pre-defined beginning middle and end. There is a sense of when the story starts being told and when it stops. In non-serial storytelling, this is generally fairly simple. The movie goes for 2 hours and then is done, maybe with room for a sequel. In the case of most Long Form Storytelling, there is no expected end. This is the soap opera model, the idea that so long as the good will of the network exists, that there should never be an end. As Gordie says in Stand by Me "Wagon Train's a really cool show, but did you notice they never get anywhere? They just keep wagon training."
This sort of unbounded storytelling, where there is no defined end point to the story almost always breaks down at some point. It's so common and well known that there is a quick cultural shorthand for it, jumping the shark. Marvel and D.C. comics are among the worst for this, with characters first introduced in the 1960's still bumming around as if they haven't aged more than a decade. And every story decision has been undone by the needs of later stories. Right now, I have to do extensive research to figure out if there are any of the X-men who haven't died and been reborn(I count four out of the thirteen X-Men from the end of Giant-Size X-Men #1's "What are we going to do with thirteen X Men?"). This sort of backtracking is more or less required for unbounded storytelling, because what made sense 3 years ago may not fit with the needs of the present.
Instead, I prefer my stories Bounded. Part of this comes from my experience in improv theater. One of the biggest rules we followed in improv was that every scene should have a beginning, middle and end. By sticking with a Bounded story, one can easily plan towards an end rather than plan for forever.
Retaining Interactivity and Momentum
However, planning a long form game provides some of its own issues. First, how do you plan a game, where one of the major attractions is interactivity, to have a bounded story? Second, how do you maintain momentum in a game with a bounded story, not allowing things to happen too slowly or too quickly? Third, how do you write a story compelling enough to attract Neil Gaiman(Day of the Dead) or Joss Whedon(Astonishing X-Men) to write an episode/run for you?
Well, as to the first, one of the philosophies I tend to write around is "not if, but how". In games I run, there are events that will happen, elements of change to the status quo that are in motion regardless of how the players act. The key to writing such stories is to make sure that the players are in a position where their actions influence how the status quo changes. At the same time, never make a story element completely contingent, as in, if nobody ever tells you they investigate, then nobody influences anything. Sometimes, this requires literally handing decisions to individuals or groups. Sometimes, it's just about reminding players of the stakes and giving them the necessary information.
As to the second, "The avalanche has already started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote." Events need to be in motion, but not so quickly that they overtake everything. Part of this is looking at the arc as a whole. I use a spreadsheet that has the entire arc written out, every game from beginning to end. That spreadsheet helps me set the pace and know that I have time remaining and can keep on a pace to finish. It helps me know when I have time to stretch things out, and when I have to push things forward. It also allows me to plan when to introduce elements that add to the momentum or create new wrinkles. However, remember to draw maps but leave gaps. The spreadsheet should be more or less complete for the session that is coming up next, partially filled in for the next handful, and then more broadly outlined for those beyond. Allow for the ways that changes will change plans. I will write more about this when I write about memorable antagonists, but villains should make plans of action, not simply have things happen regardless of surrounding events. Knowing how an antagonist adapts is part of writing a good bounded story/
As to the third, I'm still trying.
The Beginning in the End, the End in the Beginning
The central philosophy of a Bounded Long Form Story is simple. In retrospect, you should be able to see the End in the Beginning and the Beginning in the End. There should be elements of what happens right at the outset that set the course for how things proceed and conclude. And there should be elements of how things conclude that connect back to the beginning of the story. And in the end, you should be able to point to the places along the way that things were different because the player characters were present.
I return again to Babylon 5. Londo's entire character arc, from decadent political outcast to secretive warmonger to corrupted emperor is entirely driven by the presence of his nephew on Ragesh III, invaded by the Narns in the first episode of the first season. His fall from grace all stemmed from that one simple thing.
Stories that fit together and have a clear sense of direction can achieve the best of what serial storytelling has to offer.
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