Business vs. Art

It's been four days applying my new writing practise and I'm ecstatic about the result so far. Not just the fact that I'm finally getting words through my fingers again but how well those words work together. Not only do I have an introduction for High Plains Samurai but it now has a voice and character. It's also brought up something else very thought provoking.

Throughout the online writing communities of the world, there are many inspirational posts about sticking to your vision, don't get caught up in what others are doing, writing is a labour of love and many more. The latest one I've seen was from Chuck Wendig and while I skimmed through it briefly this morning, there were many valid points about not getting caught up in others' accomplishments compared to your own. I have to admit I'm extremely guilty of that, especially of late. While it's not like I've been sitting on my laurels (that's a fancy word for my butt, right?), many others whom I follow are happily plugging away on their projects and getting the word out there. Not me and while Mr. Wendig's words are true to form, it does little to quench that need to kick myself in the nuts over this.

Anyone who knows what's been going on (even if it's just the basics) knows that things have been pretty crazy for the last while. I'm happy to say many things have cleared up over this summer (including a certain litigious issue) and that's created the need for new concerns and matters to address. Things that required my full attention combined with the insanity of my job (seems there really is no slow time for us when it comes to the behind-the-scenes workings of a ski resort) have made it difficult to me to keep up with the demands of my burgeoning game design career.

And there's that word. Demand. That's been bothering me, the feeling that I need to tweet more, need to post more on this blog, need to get the column done, need to move forward on Version 1.04 of ScreenPlay, need to this, must have that ready. There's a lot of must-haves when you're working on a new game, all of them part of the creative process.

Then it hit me - it's not the art of designing games that's bothered me, it's the business of selling them.  Playing to your audience, addressing them at their level, setting aside that precious creative time to plug your product ahead of time... all the necessary evils that comes with wanting the world to play your game once its ready. Maybe it's the fact that I work in marketing and particularly social media. I have to admit the more I've seriously studied this modern phenomena, the less I personal enjoy it. Maybe it's my compulsive nature as what I feel are my failings eat away at me like a gnat chewing on... whatever it is that gnats eat. (Meh, so I don't know much about the insect world. I can let that one slide.)

It's not like I haven't gone through all this before. Killshot was a big experiment in many ways and I'm still deciphering the clues it provided but there was also a major difference between then and now - I had nothing but time back then. The whole day was available to dabble in everything related to the project. Suffering from writer's block? Go on Twitter. Worn out on Facebook? Get some writing done. That doesn't apply any more, particularly in light of the fact that I have a very creative job. The biggest matter I'm still addressing is creative energy at the tail end of the day.

It also dawns on me now that Killshot was not designed as a product; it was designed as labour of love. It was art. Could that be what's missing now? Have I started pushing myself too hard to follow-up the blazing success of that project instead of noting what worked was the art of its creation. I'm a big believer that tabletop game design is an art form and if you don't believe me, just take a look at the numerous discussion and disputes regarding game mechanics across nearly every forum available. We debate game mechanics the same way museum patrons delve into a painter's vision and intentions in a particular piece. That's what I love about this craft, not the business side of things. Yet, as it is with so many things, you can't have one without the other.

And that's what's bugging me today. 

Let The Judgement Begin!

And so it's time to start up the engine and get this new game out there into the world. On Sunday, I announced the first two phases of Project Phoenix in the 100th post of my regular column on Roleplayers Chronicle. First, there's ScreenPlay, a free supplemental RPG where players take on the role of Writers developing a movie script in co-operation with the Director (AKA the GM). Second comes High Plains Samurai, a mash-up of post-apocalyptic westerns and magic powered by the ScreenPlay engine. You can read all about them straight from the original post. 

That's all the technical talk. For my personal blog, I want to write about the personal challenges of undertaking this project. What crazy crap is going through my mind? What are my worries and beliefs? What are the behind-the-scenes going-ons in the eventual build-up of these games and this system? All of them are the kind of questions I'm looking at posing right here. And the first one is perhaps the most obvious...

What the hell was I thinking?!!

Right now, I'm nervous. It's been a while since I not only had a new game to plug, but maintained any significant presence online. Ever since the start of my new job (ironically as a Social Media Specialist), I've been almost entirely focused on my work's SM presence and not my own. With ScreenPlay (and eventually HPS), I need to get back on the horse and start plugging. Am I confident in my work so far? Definitely. I really like the tone and feel of ScreenPlay and honestly feel very proud of how different it is from Killshot. One thing I wanted to avoid after the Killshot Reloaded Kickstarter failed was failing to develop my game design skills further. I didn't want to limit myself in design styles and there are considerable differences between Killshot and ScreenPlay. With those differences come unique challenges, such as hoping those who appreciated my earlier work will like what they see in my new work.

It's all water under the bridge right now because the 9-page early draft of the rules has been posted for public scrutiny. There's no going back now. The next step is taking those written rules and putting them to practise. The very first ScreenPlay playtest goes down on June 18th with a little dark fantasy script I like to call Ironbound. I'll keep you posted as we get closer to that day. Until then, I have a paper bag to breathe into. 

Initiative Without Dice? [Optional Core]

In the Optional System, the Team with the Edge gets to act first.
The problem is establishing which Team gets that honour. 

I am the Warden!!

During last week's recap of our first playtest session of High Plains Samurai, I mentioned the need for initiative in the game. On the surface, the idea sounds simple and viable because the majority of initiative rules in RPGs involve a dice roll and since the Optional System is a dice-rolling machine, this shouldn't be a big deal, right?

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. I had no idea how wrong that theory was.

Let's start by explaining how turn order works in Killshot, the original and only published version involving the Optional System. The main characters, AKA assassins, pretty much always go first. Because it is a game of strategy and planning, players must set a plan in motion and will likely always go first. That works for a realistic and tactical game like Killshot, but it's shit in a martial arts clone. It provides a near automatic victory for the heroes assisted by their bonus options, Pass reactions, and everything else. The only other means to force heroes to go next involves villains and thugs applying triggers before the fight scene begins, but that can get old and tired after a while. And what if the heroes set down a trigger designed to go off when the thugs' trigger activates, huh? It can potentially reach ridiculous heights.

High Plains Samurai, Act One Recap [Optional Core]

I am the Warden!!

On Friday night, the Development Team got down to business and we started up Act One of High Plains Samurai, our playtest campaign for Optional Core. Quick summary? It was excellent right up until the end when the players cashed in all their qi to defeat 2 villains in one fell swoop. While I'm sure it felt awesome for the players, it demonstrated a major flaw in combat design.

There's plenty more to talk about, but first let's get started with some videos. You can catch the first four hours of our exploits (and now we know there is a four-hour time limit on all Hangout broadcasts) here on YouTube.

And for a clearer version of the HPS intro movie...

Ironically enough, the majority of problems happened after the broadcast cut out. The fight between Spider (a wanted fugitive sought out by Fraser's hero, Maoser) and Black Scorpion/Kiki were drastically different. While there's still loads of review and recapping ahead before I can create a concrete list of revisions and new material for next month's game, here's what I have so far. 

This Ain't Your Assassin's Game [Optional Core]

From the film, The Warrior's Way.

I am the Warden!!

This morning is spent hanging out in a McDonalds in Ottawa, of all places, while I'm waiting for the missus to write her admission exams for a (fingers crossed) spring college course. Laptop in hand, riding off the free wifi, and loving how things are so different for adults hanging out in public places than with teenagers.

After producing an intro trailer for High Plains Samurai and revisions to the Optional System character record, it's time to nail down some of the new rules and concepts for Friday's first foray into this mini-campaign/playtest. And it's become entirely clear how different a martial arts campaign is from Killshot.

Don't get me wrong, it's still the Optional System in every way, but there are some distinct differences between one and the other. Would you like to see a list? Some of these are direct quotes from the original documents I'm working on this morning.

Struggling With Slow Motion [Optional Core]

You can't talk about slow motion
without paying tribute to the master.

I am the Warden!!

Ever since my early days plugging away on the Optional System, I've been unable to come up with any effective and reasonable mechanic for simulating slow motion in an action game. At first, it was intended solely as a cinematic effect capable of allowing heroes to increase their odds of success at a limited rate (once per series) or as a means to provide perfect accuracy and completion at a limited rate (once per scene). Nothing stuck and it took a back burner to proceed with the more realistic and less cinematic Killshot.

With High Plains Samurai starting up on Friday and Optional Core playtesting well under way, it's time to take another look.

So... uh, yeah. How about that slow motion mechanic, eh?

That's just the problem - I'm still drawing blanks. Not to come up with any solution, but an appropriate one that doesn't reek of a stick-on mechanic. For example, having it work as an extension to a stunt where you gain +2d10 on a single stunt roll or perform a stunt with decreased difficulty seems to cheapen the impact I want from slow motion mechanics. Plus it comes across as a stunt. Even providing stunts as an opportunity to perform cinematic slow motion in games just seems like a tacked idea.