Tag: briecs on design

What Makes a Good Player? Reflections

On October 1, I announced the What Makes a Good Player? series. It’s been pretty great, and I wanted to give a brief review of some of what I think has come through as important in the interviews. For sure, none of these are strict guidelines, and they might not work for everyone, but they’re good ideas to keep in mind. My little analysis is below! Thank you so much for reading.

I asked the interviewees:

What do you try to do most often while playing games to enhance your experience and the experience of others?

The biggest trends I saw here were group character development (banter, relationship development) and creative involvement (drawing character portraits, helping others with their characters), and sharing the spotlight. When we think about good players, I wonder how many people think of clever or snarky people who are entertaining, but might not share the spotlight much? I know I used to fall into this trap, where I thought that the person with the most laughs or the coolest moves was the best player, but now I’m seeing that I (personally) enjoy players who know how to tell their own story while letting others tell their own, too.

Do you use any specific play techniques (narrative tools, improv tools, etc.) in your play sessions?

This was interesting because almost everyone uses the improv tool of “yes, and…” I’m familiar with the technique from before I played games much, and before I used it in games. Improv tools can be very useful, but I honestly sometimes feel locked down by them in games. Being open to suggestions and not blocking people can be valuable, yes. However, I created Script Change in response to the ever-present expectation of saying “yes, and…” without any means of taking respectful control of the narrative. It interests me to know that so many players put huge value on accepting the suggestions of their peers, while I personally prefer to be able to say “No, but…” some of the time, too. Does that make me a bad player?

How often do you like to game, and what is most comfortable for you to maintain good energy in games?

This response went everywhere from “whenever I can” to “have to game at least once a week,” which is a fascinating turn of events. I was expecting a lot of people to fall into the range of weekly, or biweekly. Instead there is a lot of flexibility in the responses, factoring in adult life and health considerations, as well as general energy. As someone who has too busy a schedule to game recently, it gave me a little comfort to see that even good players have a need for down time.

What kind of games do you feel you are most comfortable with and enjoy the most?

I enjoyed reading these responses, because while there were some trends (Powered by the Apocalypse games, for one), there was a fair amount of diversity in game preferences. Some people liked parlor larps, others liked D&D 3.5 (my favorite of D&D). There were PbtA fans, but others liked Fate. Some players expressed a preference for mechanics – some crunchy, some not. As someone whose taste ranges widely in games for different types of games and different settings, I thought that was really cool to see – being a good player isn’t restricted to a type of game or mechanical structure. Some of the players expressed genre preferences, while others just cared about experience – enthusiasm, enjoyment, and so on.

Can you share a special experience in a game where you felt like you did a good job playing your part in the overall story and game?

This was a fun section to read! I really recommend checking out everyone’s stories about games where they felt like they did a good job. While I know it can be hard to recognize our abilities and skills, especially when it comes to things like influencing other people’s enjoyment, it’s always nice to see someone talk about their positive actions. Some players talked about ways they changed up standard expectations of play, while others talked about how they perceived characters or gameplay differently than others. I really loved where people talked about influencing even the themes of the entire game, because it really shows how much one player can do. 
—
There are a lot of takeaways from this for me, but I’ll try to bullet list them:
  • There is no restriction on who can be a good player, regardless of their background or their familiarity with the game or type of interaction with the game.
  • Any type of RPG can have good roleplayers.
  • There are intersections between playing games and our health and wellbeing, including our energy levels and interest.
  • There are things you can learn that help you understand roleplaying better and that make it easier for you to participate, but you can get along just fine without them. No “skills” are required.
  • There is no one way to be a good roleplayer.
Whew!

During the time I was working on the series, there were a number of discussions about good player habits and behaviors on Google+ that I wanted to talk about a little. The first I read was from Paul Beakley discussing “Talky-Talky Games” and as a followup, Christian Griffen continued the discussion and they both had really good points, some of which match up with or expand upon my notes above and those of my interviewees.

Christian mentions Play Unsafe by Graham Walmsley, which is a great resource for new players and legacy players alike. I enjoyed reading it, and I will note that those with history of improv will recognize some tips and concepts within it. 

I really hope that you all enjoyed reading this series, and that you’ll revisit them after this post. I know that it was a really great experience for me to do all of these interviews and learn about these players and their experiences. Share your good player stories in the comments and shares of this post, and tag me in to see!

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What Gender is Your GM?

I did a quick poll today on my G+ (a public post) about what gender your GM for your local/regular group is. The results were… ouch. I posted it around 2:00pm on 12/18 (today) and this is the current result:

I am kind of gobsmacked. I like to think my followers on G+ are pretty diverse, and many of them are! But it unfortunately seems like we still have a lot of men running games in comparison to women. There were a few clarifications in the comments (we have multiple GMs, but most are men, etc.), but for the most part: GMs are more often men. By a lot.

I will add a picture of the final results to this post after the poll ends (I think tomorrow). I just wanted to share it for awareness. There will be follow up post to this with more questions, and hopefully some ideas from my own perspective about this issue.

Do you think this is something we should keep working to change? 


(Note: Some groups like Contessa have already been making strides for con games run by women, which is great!)

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Safety and Table Techniques, My Take

Of late, there have been a lot of people making efforts to design table techniques and safety techniques. This is great and I’m happy to see design work and attention to communication and safety at the table! …however, I have some thoughts.

The two most recent tools I’ve seen are the Support Flower and the Edgewise card.

I’m going to be judgy. I know, what do I know? Nothing more than what I know, which is my experience, emotions, and background.

I think the Support Flower is interesting and has good intent. However, the design is an issue. With the arrangement of the flower, if I (someone with relatively short arms) tried to reach across the table to tap or point to the red center, what if I could only reach the green petals, or someone thought I was just pointing at the slow down petals? Maybe I’d have to move it closer to me, moving it farther from other players and also setting up an implication that I would control the content, as well as possibly distracting from the game.
As well, the slow down or gentle option can be confusing. Without discussing what content is troubling, how do you be gentle with it? Isn’t it just as much of a disruption of the game to pause to clarify because “hey I’m uncomfortable with or nervous about this content” is very vague and can be an issue? (I have seen this with the X-card, too, and complained about it.) These are things that worry me.
For Edgewise, it has two issues. One, the introduction of the card comes across as an admission that there is no trust for basic respect at the table and no attempt at gaining or giving it. It says “None of you will let me talk, so here is a tool that I’m going to have to use to work around you.” This is different than safety cards because we can all assume people want to talk, but knowing what will trigger someone or bother them requires a deeper discussion. 
It also, secondly, completely disrupts norms of communication. It says “I am not listening to what you are saying, I’m just waiting my turn to speak.” It gives no respect to people who might just be making their point and not steamrolling if the person who wants to use it is just barely holding back at talking over that person and ignoring their point. I also know it can be used as a means to take control of the discussions at the table.
We have a tendency as gamers to avoid communication. We may not ask each other about how things make us feel. We can be afraid to share the things that make us uncomfortable because people might judge us. We can be afraid to say “Hey, stop, I don’t want to see this.” But we can learn. We can step up as players and designers and GMs to say “Ask people what is okay for them. Give people space to express *openly and explicitly* what’s not comfortable for them.” And if people judge others for being uncomfortable with certain content? The uncomfortable people should be the ones who get to stay at a safe table.
We may excuse misbehavior as social awkwardness. We may say that someone is too awkward to know when it’s okay to speak, or that some people have trouble using social cues. And for some people, these things are true. For autistic individuals and people with anxiety, I can see a lot of these troubles and accommodation is important. But this is not all of us. We can’t excuse everyone because of some people’s genuine needs. We can learn and grow and get better at talking to each other and learning body cues. Hell, even people with anxiety typically have the capacity to learn these things. 
If those of us who can learn these things and can design for these things and support these things don’t make those efforts, we don’t give space for the people who really need support and space. We can learn how we can act and be open and honest about our feelings and perspectives so that people who can’t feel safer and if they can, someday might be able to do the same thing.
I see the meaning and intention here, and I know no tool is perfect. This is just where I am seeing flaws and why I wouldn’t like these tools at my table.
ETA: I was talking with John about some of the user design issues here and we noted the issues of visual impairment and colorblindness, as well as ability to physically access the tools. (I have in Script Change that you can vocalise the tools, but I haven’t seen this as an option in many other tools.) Accessible tools matter!

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Sagas of Gender, Power, and Emotion

Had a brief discussion just now with John about my experience playing Sagas of the Icelanders at Origins this year, and how it was about gender expression, emotional expression, and struggling with my own abilities.

I played The Huscarl, which is like, Super Manly and involves a lot of behavioral cues, from my perspective. I play men or androgynous/fluid people a lot of the time, more often than women, for any number of reasons, but in part because I can’t be a man or androgynous visibly, or perform that, in any other part of my life. I look and am seen as A Woman and I hate it a lot of the time. So, games! And playing against my assigned gender! This game actually was an element in my walk towards coming out officially, too. But!

One of the things I was discussing elsewhere about toxic masculinity and emotional play (https://plus.google.com/u/0/+BriannaSheldon/posts/CMKjyQG2f8p) is that there are emotions I can express as a man that I can’t as a woman. When I played this character, I did three things I can’t do when I’m presenting as a woman without being given dirty looks, being shamed, or being told to calm down:

– I was jovial, which if you look at a lot of historical language is not commonly used for women, and I was allowed to be so just as I was.

– I was angry, blustering, and loud each at least once or twice, but no one looked down at me, in character or out (this was in part because of a beautifully arranged group, but they were all men, and allowed me to perform that). At one point in the game, I even got to play out the experience of a good man hurting someone unintentionally out of masculine bravado and egoism, and it was totally great to get that experience – not because I hurt someone, but because of the perspective it offered on the entire scenario and my character.

– I was seen as displaying positive vulnerability when I did seek help in character.

This is not meant to say that men have an easier time of playing, not at all. Men playing to express feminine-coded emotions is definitely a valid thing and I totally get that, because this is my experience expressing masculine-coded emotions, where I’m allowed leeway that I wouldn’t be as a woman. And I tell you this after edging-up-to-20-years roleplaying, there are benefits to playing against gender, or against expectation.

But this also got me thinking of one of the things I addressed in game. One of the questions of the game, which is a challenge for me, was the subject of fertility and barrenness. However, it gave me an opportunity I hadn’t expected. While most people were concerned about the ability of my character’s betrothed to reproduce, when it came to light that her past husband had been infertile, I let my character experience the fear of losing or not even having virility.

For me, however, it wasn’t of “can I have children?” but “do I lack the power to support the ones I love and give them what they desire?” See, from my perspective, the concept of fertility in history has often been tied to virtue (though that’s a very ridiculous thing), and virility is tied to power. Fertility is reproducing and making, virility is inception and creation. They work together, obviously, but there’s a lot of emphasis on virility being related to a man’s power and him being weak if he doesn’t have it – his body is weak, his body has failed him – and for fertility, the woman who lacks it has wronged herself and the world somehow.

These are both shit things, but through those concepts and the setting of the game, with the help of my character’s betrothed and the aunt in the story, I was able to express myself in anger, in vulnerability, and with power, and it was incredibly meaningful. One of my favorite moments I’ve ever had in games was having a touching, emotional discussion with Tracy, playing my betrothed, and sitting next to Eric (playing the aunt) while he encouraged me in character to stand up.

I don’t have a lot of physical power, and my mind is not often at its best. To explore the idea of losing power as something my mind conceived to be a powerful person? That was so helpful to me, to work through some serious feelings, and it echoes even now, months later.

Basically what I’m getting at is that sometimes these games can be super meaningful. We can experience all kinds of feelings and think about all sorts of things, and playing against type can really make a difference in that regard. It was such a beautiful game, and I hope to have many more like it.


(Thanks, as always, to +Jason Morningstar for running a great game, and for my cohorts, +Tracy Barnett +Eric Mersmann +Morgan Ellis and +Mark Diaz Truman)

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Convention Playtester Tips

With Metatopia upcoming, I wanted to talk a little about something I truly enjoy: playtesting.

Metatopia is a convention in New Jersey, USA run by Double Exposure. It is my favorite convention. I get to see a lot of my friends, which is great, and the atmosphere is completely bursting with creativity. I also get to playtest games, most of the time.

What is playtesting?

Playtesting is when a designer or designers gather together people to test out their game by playing it or reading it and talking about it. Typically the latter is referred to as a focus group. There are alpha playtests where the game is in very early stages, betas where it’s in a relatively playable state, and so on. There are also high test playtests, which are really intense, typically made up of experience designers as players, and focused on getting the game to its best state.

Why playtest?

You don’t have to playtest a game. Honestly! You can make a game and put it out there without playtesting it even once. I’ve done this a number of times and there’s nothing wrong with it. However, the reality is that most of the time your games will be far more refined if you playtest them. You get more input, find more of the squeaky wheels to oil, and have different perspectives. It’s useful!

How do you playtest?

There are articles out there that can walk you through playtesting from the designer or game master perspective. What I’m more interested about is how to be a playtester. After all, it’s my favorite part of games.

I am not the strongest roleplayer, nor do I understand probability basically at all. However, I can get the way games work – I can tell when something meshes well with a setting or idea, and I can help people work through what they are trying to say or do. I also can see patterns of behavior caused by mechanics. These are, thankfully, useful to playtesting.

Below I have some suggestions on what to do if you find yourself at a playtesting table. Hope you find them valuable!

  • Listen to the designer and how they describe the game and its genre, setting, and expectations. Don’t talk over them or interject your opinion. Let them set the scene. Let them have some space to share their ideas and their concerns, and ensure they know you are listening (active listening is helpful – here is an additional link with the note that obviously, not all people interact the same and eye contact is not required to be an active listener!). Don’t allow others to step over them if they look like they are uncomfortable about speaking up – speak up for them. A simple “Hey, what were you saying?” in the direction of the designer can make a difference. Keep in mind that steamrolling (people talking over others from perceived authority or privilege) can damage a playtest just as much as the designer just giving up and walking out.
  • Use all of the resources at your disposal. If there are mechanics presented, make excuses to use them in line with what happens in the game or focus group. If there are tools on the table – index cards, tokens, cards, dice – make sure you understand what they are for and make sure you at least try to introduce them to the action.
  • Ask questions. Always ask questions. If you don’t understand something, ask for clarification. If you don’t know what the designer wants from the situation, ask for their guidance. If you want to take an action and you haven’t already been given permission as part of a scene, ask to permission. If you see something missing, ask if it should be there, and if it should, how you can help introduce it, and if not, why not. If you suspect something is going to go against the theme of the game, ask why it’s done that way. Always, always ask questions – don’t assume, no matter how much of an expert you think you are.
  • Show enthusiasm and give positive feedback. Don’t jump around and yell, but do respond with positive feedback if you like something, give clear reasoning behind your reasons for liking what is happening, and so on. Be unafraid to smile and give encouragement to the designer, and ensure that at the end of the session, even if it was a hard one, you thank them for providing the game for playtest. You’re helping them, but there’s no point in playtesters if there’s no game. It’s a symbiotic relationship, for good and ill!
  • Be honest, but kind and respectful. If you think a game sucks, don’t lie and pretend it was great, but don’t be a moldy muffin about it. Use “I” statements if you want to give negative feedback, and feel free to pair them with questions (“I had trouble understanding why we would use a d6 instead of 2d6 for a game Powered by the Apocalypse, could you talk about that a little?” “I felt like I didn’t have a lot of agency in the game because of the strict character roles. Is this a permanent feature of the game, and if so, why?”). You can always tell a designer what you don’t like – after all, playtesting is about making the game better, not pretending it’s perfect. Just be kind.
  • If something goes sideways with the other players, let the designer know either privately or, depending on immediacy, at the table. If something goes badly with the designer or with other players, let con staff wherever you are know as soon as you can. My major highlights here would be bigoted or hateful behavior, harassment, inappropriate content (18+ with under 18 individuals in the playtest, etc.), and so on. If something is truly upsetting, definitely feel free to leave, but make sure you communicate the issues to people who can make efforts to prevent it happening to other people. We can only make improvements if we know about the problems!

In all, there are a lot of things that playtesters can do to improve a convention playtest and help to get strong results. Sometimes it’s hard because the games can be early in development, or possibly have flawed premises. That sucks, for sure, but we can all work together to make games better, and make our environments better for creating better games and playing better games. If you want to be a part of that, take a chance sometime to participate in a playtest and see if it’s for you. I hope that someday we’ll share a table!

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The Beast, Reflections

Over the past 22 days I played a card game on my thatlittleitch blog called The Beast (link) by Aleksandra Sontowska and Kamil Węgrzynowicz of naked female giant. I had played a version in beta that had been pretty interesting and fascinating, but I had trouble keeping up with it. I also had trouble keeping up with it this time, but was able to make up for it, which made all the difference.

My experience with The Beast begins here. (link)

Today, I finished the game. I am – for I think the first time – struggling with ending a game. I have always been sad to end games because of the people, but I don’t think it’s ever a game that has made me feel afraid and anxious to be done.  I’ve been thinking about it and there are a few key reasons:

1) This game has the ability to dig into you emotionally and mentally in a way most people might be unfamiliar. If you let it, it keys into dark desires and horrors, and if you take the time to write those out in an exploratory fashion, it can open up a lot of thoughts you might otherwise hide.

2) I played in public. This is not recommended by the book, but I chose to do it as a way to demonstrate what such a game can be, and to show the kind of experience someone could have, even for people who would never play it. It also made it hard to decide how much I would share.

3) Some of these questions get incredibly personal, and I’ll tell you now that I was 100% honest, and pulled all of those responses from somewhere inside me. There is something to be said to being honest with everyone including yourself, especially about things that might be scary or taboo or gross.

4) This game opened me up to a lot of opportunities to express things I haven’t. Talking about pains I’ve hidden or sexual desires I don’t talk about – you don’t just decide randomly to say that stuff. This gives a special place to do it, where you tell the stories, you control the events that happen – and the consequences.

—

Questions I received while working on this:

1) Is their replayability?

Yes! You’d have to be creative and I’d take a break inbetween but yes, I totally think The Beast is replayable.

2)  What about triggering content?

Most of what actually goes into the content is up to you. There are prompts on the cards, but there is no forcing you into using specific behaviors. I admittedly triggered myself twice, but it was a choice I made to go through something really hard and the reality that it was in my control made a difference. 

—

With all of that in mind, I have to say I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about The Beast. There’s so much there to explore and so many things to do. In all, I feel like there is a rock in my throat as I write this. I feel terrified but yet so grateful. I look forward to free days with no digging into my soul but yet I will miss them, I will miss the excuse to be bare and open, I will miss something deep to pour them into.

I feel like I’m breaking up with a toxic lover who I had the deepest of intimacies with, and who satisfied me in ways I didn’t think could be done, but hurt me in the same. It has surely be an experience.

I do think I may be giving away my copy of The Beast not because I wouldn’t play it again, but because I want someone else to get to play it, and carry forward something that treated me so well.

Best to you all!

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I AM Mental

A slight diversion from our normal content, here. It’s semi-political, if my mental health is political. 

Content/Trigger Notice: mental health, depression, bipolar, and similar illnesses are all discussed/specific mentions of binge drinking, suicide, and self-destructive behavior. 

I was going to write about Are You Mental? and its Kickstarter when I got home today. I don’t need to, because there’s this excellent post by Kate Bullock, who is wonderful. I’m going to say shit anyway.

I know I do problematic things in relation to mental health and representation, I totally do, but I’m also extremely aware of how my literal crazy is heavily misrepresented by media and fiction crazy. See, here’s the thing. I live my crazy in public. I don’t think there has ever been a day when someone has asked me about my mental health and I’ve denied them an answer. I joke about it, occasionally, but not often. Often, I’m too busy with it. 

For reference, I have bipolar disorder, anxiety (generalized and social), mild obsessive/compulsive behaviors, issues with seasonal depression, a history of emotional abuse, and have many panic attacks.

Somewhere around 2013ish, I’m not sure when, I started a spiral into an incredibly tragic and damaging mixed/manic episode in which I destroyed friendships, professional relationships, had abusive relationships and may have been abusive myself, wasted more money than is reasonable, experienced massive physical health issues in part because of the irresponsible and self-destructive behavior, and I did a lot of wrong things, including some things that other people would never admit to.

If you ask me? I will try to tell you honestly what happened. There are some times I don’t really know. The funny thing about being so crazy is that you don’t always remember the worst things. Or the best things. Like, I remember drinking an entire bottle of vodka after my then-partner screamed and shook the dinner table for half the meal and tried to hit me. That was not my crazy, nope, but there it was, nestled in the situation my crazy put me in. I don’t remember seeing some of my best friends at conventions where I was so manic, so close to breaking, that I didn’t really sleep for almost 72 hours, and barely ate, and talked so fast I don’t even remember how I managed to talk. I crave those moments. Those moments, at a gaming con, as a gamer, where I was crazy.

I am well medicated, doing therapy, and thankfully with access to good healthcare to keep those things. (No worries, potential employers!) Not everyone has that. Even having it doesn’t mean you’re safe. Everyone who watches me on social media sees these ups and downs of my moods, my bleak moments of depression, my hypomania. Lithium is great, but it does not cure me.

If you sit down and play a game, and you play a mad character, a crazy character, oh, it’s so exciting, isn’t it? To be crazy? To be INSANE? You can do whatever you want! No matter what you do, it’s okay, you’re crazy! Hahaha OMG NOT REALLY.

My freelance career is mostly in tatters. I couldn’t do the work. I couldn’t’ focus. I got nothing done. I have some work – thanks to some very, very generous people – but I’m not a professional. I burned that flag to ashes and dust. I was not a nice person. I wasn’t respectful. Hell, I honestly feel like I lost tons of social relationships alone on this, in part because everyone thought I made someone cheat on their wife,* because that’s totally something I want on my resume.

I am very honest about my mental illnesses so that people can see, in reality, what crazy is. It is not laughing enthusiastically because things are so, so funny, it’s laughing because you actually can’t stop and you don’t know what’s wrong and if you stop you might die. It’s not feeling morose and sad, sitting at a windowsill dripping with raindrops, it’s sitting on your kitchen floor crying because you almost killed yourself, again, you might do it again, you might die. It’s not being nervous around new people you’ve never met before, it’s being afraid to go to your best friend’s house and if they see how much of a goddamn mess you are, you might die. Some of these are figurative. Some of them are extremely not.

Are You Mental? may be super fun and exciting and make a lot of people very happy. All I can say is that I am, actually, mental, and games like that make me feel like I should fucking die.

——————————–

Small addendum: 1) I am not asking for this to be paid via Patreon. That feels weird. 2) I did do consulting on the essays for mental health representation in the Lovecraftesque game by Becky Annison and Joshua Fox, and I’m available to do that for other games. Just comment and tag me and we’ll go from there.

*I literally have no desire to deal with people’s defenses of this or justifications. Just leave it alone, it’s better off dead.

This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

Whose Stories We Tell

If you are making a thing about people who are not like you, you should talk to people who are like that.

I can’t count how many game ideas or fiction ideas I’ve dropped completely because I couldn’t do the research, didn’t have the time to interview, or couldn’t read accurate accounts. People’s stories matter so much. We should not fly off the cuff. We should not make assumptions based on media.

If you’re working on something about people other than you that those people could be emotionally affected by,* pause and 

Consider whether you should do it at all. 

If you’re still determined to do it, look for the people you are writing about or people similar to them. Ask them if they will share their experience. If they will not,

Consider whether you should continue.

If you’re still determined to do it, look for accurate and complete personal accounts. If you can’t find them, or they seem unreliable, or they are confirmed to be inaccurate,

Consider whether you should keep going.

If you’re still determined to do it, review the available media regarding those people or their experiences. If you can’t find them, or they seem unreliable, or they are confirmed to be inaccurate,

Stop.

That’s right. Stop. Take a break, return to it later. Think about why you want to tell these stories.

Ask yourself:

  • Are you willing to tell stories without people’s permission?
  • Are you willing to tell stories without accurate information?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that could be inaccurate or misleading?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that could damage reputations, risk people’s jobs, or their lives?
  • Are you willing to tell stories that ignore people’s identities, stereotype them, or marginalize them? 
  • Are you willing to lie?

If you answer yes to those questions, I say to you: Look at your life. Look at your choices.

Walk away.



*Sex, wars, religion, gender, queerness, identities, trauma, politics, etc. – all of these are important. Imagine if someone wrote a story about something you consider personal and emotional, like about your life personally, and told it wrong, and maybe even lied or misrepresented you in a way that stereotyped you or made you seem dangerous, evil, or just simply wrong. If it’s a topic like that? Think about it.


Note: When you consult people, compensate them fairly for their time and experience.

This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

How Interactive is Your Game?

As a roleplayer, I have played in a number of different situations. Most people have played home games – at your place, or the home of a friend, in a closed environment. Some people have played at local events, or even large cons like GenCon. With larping, people play in all types of environments – small house events, large outdoor weekend events, convention hall rooms, and so on. Our environments often shape our play – how loud we talk, whether we move around, and our props or costumes.

Today I’m thinking very deeply about interactivity. This is not just “does your game involve you and do you do a thing,” but instead “how much does the player emotionally and physically interact with a game?” I wasn’t able to find a lot about interactivity in relation to tabletop and live-action roleplaying games. If I’m missing something, obviously feel free to share them in comments, but please avoid diluting my points.

I’m proposing some concepts on how to evaluate interactivity in tabletop and larp, and these are key for accessibility and player choice. 

Ask these questions:

  • Will players sit at the table, stand, or move around, or a combination of those?
  • Will players speak in character, use distancing (third-person), or alternate as comfortable?
  • Will players “perform” their character – changing from sitting at the table to standing, entering into other players’ personal space, raising their voice, moving hands more than just standard “talky” movement?
  • Will players be required to do these things, encouraged to do them, or have the option to do them?
  • Is there an opt out option for any of these things, or is the only option not to play?(1) 
  • Will players be in separate spaces, or in one space?
  • Will players need to move from space to space?
  • Will players have assistance moving from space to space if needed?
  • Will players have character sheets, index cards, name tags, props, or other materials to represent characters, powers, abilities, or resources?
  • Will these materials be available in alternate formats, or is there a standard?
  • Is it possible for players to have access to materials in advance?

There are probably more questions to be asked! This is a really complex subject, and it’s come to me from a very specific place: my own fears. Most people who know me are aware that I operate with pretty clear awareness of my fears because without that I can’t make it past them. This comes through in games! I ask for use of X-cards or Script Change or pre-game discussion on boundaries because I can decide then what I’m really comfortable with, and with who. However, the one thing that none of these cover by default or even in some extrapolation is interactivity. 

We rarely discuss at the table “Hey, are we going to talk in-character for this session?” or “Can I stand up if my character wants me to?” or “Can I sit while others are standing in this session?” or “Can I just write these character stats on an index card for while we move around?” However, these questions are incredibly important! Not just from an accommodations point of view for mental or physical disabilities, but also from the perspective of safety and comfort. I’ll give a brief example.

I was playing a local home game with some people I was mostly familiar with. It was an emotional game, for sure, and the situations were pretty intense at times, but after a few sessions, we had still only used descriptions of raised voices or physical action, and that had been okay. However, the GM at this point brought forth a very (for me) scary and intense situation. In playing the NPC character, they stood up, walked over to me, and screamed at me. Repeatedly. As someone with some history involving abuse and raised voices, the combination of the yelling and interference with my personal space completely terrified me. At that point my mental options were to 1) react violently (which I didn’t), or 2) freeze up. I haven’t spoken to the person about it,(2) but that’s partially because I still feel anxious around them.

I can’t be the only person who has experienced this. If I had known that these kind of actions would have occurred in game, I might not have ever played. Did I have good times? Yes. Was it worth that panicked experience? No.

Upon hearing recently that some people at Games on Demand were playing with more intense interactivity (characters were arguing, so players raised their voices and were physically acting), it brought this idea to the forefront. I’m really frustrated that I haven’t seen a lot of discussion about this, actually, because yes, we’re all playing games and having fun. But, not everyone has fun in the same way, and not setting these expectations can ruin someone’s time.

This is normally when people come in with the “if they don’t like it, they don’t have to play!” or “we aren’t writing/running games for people who won’t do improv/aren’t willing to be physical/can’t handle intense situations!” and you know what? Fuck you. I’m actually really tired of it. Games are not just for one specific class and type of people. You can design games and run games in any way you want to, but if you aren’t willing to tell people up front what to expect, you are doing it wrong.

There is no reason I should be unable to play games because I am afraid someone will shout at me at the table. There is no reason I should be unable to play games because I can’t stand for four hours. I might not be able to play all games, but I should be able to play some games, and if someone tells me the situation and expectations, I can determine whether I can meet those expectations of that game. 

If you are designing games and/or running/facilitating games, please take these things into consideration. It may take time! It may even take effort! But if we want people to enjoy our games, why wouldn’t we take time and effort? People have spent decades designing entire adventures with the minutiae of what potions are available in a chest in the sixteenth room of a 25 room dungeon, so I think we could take a half hour to ask ourselves how interactive our games will be, regardless of their type, to ensure that everyone involved has a good time and can contribute to the game comfortably.

Thank you for reading!

(1) The second is not condemnation, it’s just important to note.
(2) If you see yourself here, this is not the time to talk about it. If I ever want to talk to you about it, I’ll come to you.

This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.

We Need to Talk About Disabilities and Gaming

Talking with John (husband) about disability literacy for the able, how literacy is a weird term, & how to handle being unable to write at a game table.

Virtually every RPG requires the ability to read and write. This is an issue for bringing games to illiterate individuals (who exist!), which is another huge thing that I don’t even know how to address. However, something I can address is my own situation.

I have hand tremors that have grown relatively significant and some minor muscle spasms. I can’t handwrite really at all anymore. I risk tearing paper or very far stray lines, and it’s also really stressful to try to write because it’s embarrassing and difficult (and sometimes painful because of the muscle strain to avoid shaking). The issue here is that almost every single game involves writing at least something on a character sheet and I have no real objection to that. I like customizing characters. However, these days I need a second set of hands to do those things.

When I go to a table and have to ask someone to fill out my sheet, it’s awkward and embarrassing. Most of the time it is eased because I’ll go to tables with friends (this is part of why I seek out friendly, familiar tables). However, I sometimes want to game with new people! I can’t always rely on people I know to help me write down my stats and stuff, and I want to emphasize that having friends at a table will always make this easier, but it is not enough.

There is a huge lack of literacy in regards to disability in the world in general, but I’m surprised at how significant it can be in the gaming world. I realize that it’s hard to achieve this, as schools don’t really address it, workplaces do their best to avoid it, and honestly, disabled individuals can easily be alienated socially too. But it’s really not okay.

If I ask for help at a strange table, I get stared at, awkward mumbles, and eventually someone will help but it’s very hard to feel comfortable at that point. I’ve outed myself. I have to give an explanation. It takes time away from the game, I delay the other players, and I know it’s an inconvenience, and it also puts me in a weird place socially. Now I’m kind of the invalid, I’m a weight on other players. They treat me differently, and it makes me feel really sad.

The issue, in reality, is not that I can’t get help. Most people will (even if begrudgingly) help me. Some are even happy to do it. At friendly tables, it’s awesome because my friends are so supportive. At a stranger’s table, it’s harder. People don’t know enough about disabled people to know how to react when a disabled person needs help. They don’t know that it’s just a simple need, so sometimes they treat me like a child. They don’t know how extensive it is, so sometimes they get annoyed.

I’m writing this massive blargh of text to say this: We need to talk about disabilities and gaming. There are some great people talking about it already (Elsa S. Henry and Shoshana Kessock to name a couple, and I think Matt Weber as well, and I know there are more of you out there!!), which is awesome, but more than a few people need to be talking. We need to ask for accommodation at conventions and events. We need to talk to players and GMs about how to help disabled players at their tables. We need to be willing to help, and to not judge people for needing help.

I’m asking now, as a gamer and designer and player and everything else, for your help in teaching others how to be an ally for disabled gamers, in working with businesses and organizations in gaming to make things approachable for disabled gamers, and in making spaces more accessible.

Here’s the thing. I’m here to support you in this effort, but in part because I _have_ disabilities, I need more legwork from those who have the energy. Speak to disabled gamers to get their feedback, do research online, and be aware of situations that might put disabled gamers at a disadvantage or keep them from participating. This week, I spoke to John Ward at GAMA about Origins, and we discussed some work they’re doing to improve registration next year to make it more accessible. All it took was a polite and well-worded email and a willingness to discuss options, and I think that next year’s registration might be a lot easier for me and players like me. It’s worth the effort.


I hope you’ll join me in this. I know we have a lot of causes and inclusivity movements to keep up with, but if you can take just a little time – even if it just means helping a player out at a con table you share and treating them like a person when you do it – it can really make a difference.


Thank you to my friends who have supported me while I’ve dealt with my illnesses. You’re the best!

This post was supported by the community on patreon.com/briecs.