Well, I thought I'd post this in case anyone cares for some reason. It was the result of me trying to run what I (only now) realise is considered a narrativist game at a time when I had absolutely no idea about anything related to that. I haven't run that style of system since.

Basically, me and two friends had been playing odd games of D&D or GURPS on and off, although nothing approximating a serious campaign. Then, one week I suggested that I might be able to run something (it was the first time I'd ever done so). And what was that something? Over the Edge. Which I got not because of doing bold experiments in roleplaying or anything like that, but simply because we'd been playing the On The Edge card game and we all liked it (a lot more than Magic, but, it was so much harder to find players..) I also read the essays in the OTE book and I thought they were fantastic but I still didn't quite "get" the point of the style.

In the first session I was pretty much following the material in the book's first sample adventure (Contact On Al Amarja) until the very end when the players announced they wanted to go to the Hospital to try and find and interrogate the leader of a gang they had encountered. At that point, I snapped completely when asked to wing it. Amongst other things I seem to recall panicking that I didn't have a map of the hospital because I wanted them to explore it geographically (!!!!.. this is what comes of being so used to hacking around dungeons) and using the word 'white' about 200 times in describing the interior because I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Things got more interesting in the next adventure, but only because the text given in the book was more interesting also. A lot didn't get done here that could have been.

The third and last attempt was "It Waits", a published module. If you've read it, though, you know that it was really actually a bunch of settings and an excuse to drag the players through them ("you're looking for some giant rats"). Unfortunately, these got pretty bad. At the garbage tip, the players basically just walked around in a circle bumping into the various nasties that lived there, except that they did find a torn up letter from the First School of True Sensation (which I threw in because I knew they were interested in checking out the School - they'd been talking about it a lot since they read it in the pseudo-newspaper included with the first adventure).

Likewise in the downtown dingy area (can you tell how long ago this was?), there was really nothing to do listed in the book, so I decided that the Glorious Lords (who they had hacked off in one of the earlier adventures; in fact one of the PCs was still carrying around a Seklut Centipede he got off one of them) were around in the dingy downtown area and on seeing the PCs there would send some heavy duty opposition after them. They did, in the shape of a strong punk armed with a chainsaw (weapon shops on the Edge sell these to anyone stupid enough to think it would work as a weapon, into which category the Glorious Lords would no doubt fall). This could have been a decent Bang except that I made it impossible for the PCs to do anything about it; it was purely so that I could use the Ghost Gang as specified in the book.

The rest of the adventure basically went the same way. The players were seriously underinterested and I considered it an utter disaster and I've never run anything like that since.

Since that I have been occasionally running sessions of more traditional games like L5R and D20, usually sticking rigidly to actual scenarios written out in the books. Any attempt to break away from them invaribly gets me bogged down trying to make up adventures and then killing them by pointing out holes in my own ideas because I just know the players will spot them if I don't. In fact a planned game of Star Wars D20 was shut down because I'd say I'd run and then would have to announce that I simply couldn't think of anything for them to do. (I had some idea for what I wanted to happen, but no way to develop it far enough.) It eventually got to the point where they were making contingency plans by asking someone else to actually set a game up every time I said I was going to run, which was a relief in a sense because when I found out about it I was able to use it as an excuse for abandoning the non-campaign. (To be honest, I also dislike the D20 rule system and wasn't overjoyed about running it, especially not Star Wars with its seriously screwy weapons.)

Which would basically mean that that was that, except that now I have these rather nice games lying on my shelf just crying to be played, with names like Sorceror, Unknown Armies, Blue Planet, and Continuum. So, can anyone suggest how I can improve my skills a bit and dig myself outa this hole?

hyphz--

I hear you. I used to be a horrible GM with some brief flashes of cool stuff. Now, I'm much better--not brilliant, but getting better all the time. Here's my advice:

1) Cater to your players. I don't mean play the games they want, necessarily. But give them lots of cool stuff to do. Let their characters shine. Let their characters get into loads of trouble. Forget about maps, linear time, and every detail of a trip to the grocery store. Just give them lots of conflicts to deal with. Especially with OtE--there are loads of conflicts & trouble situations going on. Just pay attention to what grabs their interest & give them more of it.

2) If things seem to be dragging (like wandering around an area, looking for "stuff" & not really finding anything), drop some major crisis in on them--even if it's something as cheesy as a cadre of ninjas or something. Or just cut to a new scene--"Okay, so you guys don't find anything at the garbage dump. What are you guys doing next? Don't worry about minute things, just what's the next big thing you'll do? Go pump the bartender for info? Okay, we cut to: you guys saunter into the bar..."

3) Combat: think about the most exciting movies & TV shows you seen--fight scenes rarely go for more than a minute or two, unless it's a major, climactic battle. Keep combat sequences moving fast--"Okay, what do you do? Tell me right now, or you forfeit your turn."--& if it's not a major fight, limit it to a round or two. Then, if there are still antagonists standing, have them flee or decide the fight isn't worth it. For me, nothing kills a roleplaying session like a combat sequence that drags on.

4) Psych yourself up. Don't get depressed if the last session sucked. A GM who doesn't appear to be into it will kill it for the players. But enthusiasm for the game can cover over bad stuff.

4) Most importantly, keep doing it. GM as much as you can, as many different games as you can. Don't be afraid to drop a game after a couple of sessions & say "This just isn't doing it for me. Let's try a different game & a different approach." After a session, ask the players what they liked & disliked. Think about what you liked & disliked. I will actually write stuff down like "Don't forget pacing!" or "Be ruthless in scene-framing!" to remind myself. Also, let (or make) someone else GM sometimes, & as a player, be conscious of how the other person GMs--what do you like that you could emulate? what do you dislike that you would do differently? But keep at it. Like sex, the only real way to get better at it is to keep doing it.

Mmm.. "Psyching myself up" to run a game tends to mean getting nervous and getting stage fright for me...

As for trying to cater to players and run games often, the problem is that I always lack for ideas because my own ideas always have contradictions. For example, in the Star Wars game my first thought was that I wanted the players to be pioneers, because it gets a good stake in the setting, so I thought that perhaps they'd be leading or involved in a very proactive in setting up a rebel colony on a new planet. I also heard that last session the players wanted to do some spaceship fights, so I thought that a cool beginning would be to have the players defending the colony ship from TIE attack as they flew towards the planet.

But then, I thought - hang on, that's stupid. If the PCs are going to be leading the colony setup why the heck would they be chosen to fly fighters? And, moreso, even if they kill the TIEs they'll "radio" report back that a Rebel colony ship is on the move and the Empire will wipe the colony out before it's even begun (obviously I'd want them to fight the Empire at some point but not so soon). Ok, scratch the space combat. But, why would there be an planet they didn't know about anyway? The Empire might be evil but they're not stupid and they certainly don't lack for resources.

As another example I thought it might be fun to have some dangerous creatures on the surface so that the PCs would have something to construct defences against, and another race who had gone underground to escape them. This sounds reasonable, except, what the heck were the creatures doing there before the colonists turned up? If the "going underground" defence had been successful, what were the creatures doing in the meantime? Just lolloping around the planet aimlessly? What would they eat? And, I wanted the other race to have alternate technology - not actually more powerful than the rebels but constructed on different principles so it'd be effective because of its variety. But - if they had similar tech level, why wouldn't they have gone into space themselves?

The whole thing came down to the stupid level shown in the Spycraft sample adventure where the players are asked to believe that a military installation would employ a narcoleptic as a night security guard. I eventually decided that such a thing simply couldn't be fitted in logically but I didn't really want to run a plain ol' rebel raiding campaign so all my energy was gone. So, narrativist people, how DO you make sure your story ideas fit into the world properly? (Assuming you're not using a kludge like OtE and UA tend to do in their worse moments, where they say "The setting is so weird that causality could break down any time so don't worry" - Lame...)

Dude,

Nothing you wrote in the above post seems so implausible that it couldn't work in the Star Wars universe. Let's face it, George Lucas - self-admittedly a bad writer - isn't especially concerned about causal reality (or even sometimes, basic continuity).

You might take a look at the Drawing Conclusions in Public thread.

My advice to you is to relax when it comes time to run a game. Trust your instincts. Remember, these are just games that we play with our friends. It shouldn't be this horrible, gut-wrenching experience.

Easier said than done, of course.

- Scott

What Scott said.

For Star Wars--why would the colony leaders lead the space defense? Because they're the heroes. Same reason why the entire command staff of Deep Space 9 would climb onboard the Defiant & fly off somewhere. Because that's where the story is.

You don't want to make it too absurd (the narcoleptic guard is a good example of bad scenario design), but the Star Wars is fairly absurd to begin with. Despite the plethora of "Star Wars Universe" books, despite the rantings & ravings of internet geeks, the point of Star Wars isn't to create a coherent universe of science fiction, it's to tell a story.

I can't speak for anyone else, but when I play Star Wars, the last thing I want it too much continuity & detail. I don't care about why a planet has low gravity or how the economy of the underwater city works. I want drama, romance, & action.

Anyway...I'll tell you something, I'm not very good at plots. Which is why I don't write loads of fiction--I have trouble thinking up plot points. Which is why I love GMing. I don't have to think up plots. I just throw lots of conflict & opportunity at the players, & insist they make proactive characters. And they make the plots themselves.

So don't worry so much about coming up with a "good story". Let the players create the story based on the conflict & complications you throw at them.

Hello,

What I see here is a severe case of trying to do two things at once: (1) prepare for a role-playing session and (2) generate the components of a role-playing session.

These aren't the same thing. This is why people write down notes and ideas and notions, sometimes in great profusion, before writing stories. No hope for it: #1 isn't going to happen unless #2 is nailed down.

Oh no! The next problem is that role-playing is a group activity, hence #2 can't be nailed down until #1 is solid, right? Aggghhh!

Now, add to this whole problem, the social context of role-playing and, based on what I'm seeing in this post, a self-imposed belief that the GM "better" have it all perfect, and that play better be perfect, "or else."

There are about 1000 things to discuss about this entire mind-set, but I think the main one, and the source of the question that's been asked, is this:
Situation is not Conflict.

You are concerned (one might even say, obsessed) with the notion that the Situation (and its partner, Setting) "must be perfect," and completely missing the point that all Narrativist play is concerned with is Conflict.

Now, does that mean that Setting and Situation get to be stupid? No. It does mean that their integrity is wholly subordinate to whatever style, type, serious-ness level, and most importantly content of the Conflict at hand. In some cases, this means that Situation/Setting integrity may be stretched & slapped into any shape we want, scene by scene; in some cases, this means that Situation/Setting integrity are crucial. But they are always ... subordinate to Conflict.

Perhaps we should discuss Conflict. Let's see ...

Is the conflict of Aliens between a bunch of marines and a hive of alien monsters?
Is the conflict of the Star Wars trilogy between the Empire and the rebels?
Is the conflict of my current game of Hero Wars between the Lunars and the Sartarites?

Shock - the answer is Big, Fat No. These are not conflicts. The conflict in a WWII movie is not between Axis and Allies. The conflict in a Civil War movie is not between North and South. The conflict in The Godfather is not about the survival of the Corleone family.

Until you get some idea of what Conflict is generated from, and why it is that some conflicts can grab audience interest (or in the case of Narrativist role-playing, co-authors and co-audience interest simultaneously), then you will flail in this morass forever. I strongly recommend The Art of Dramatic Writing by Lajos Egri, which is the primary reference for my definition of Narrativist Premise, although granted I've tweaked it a bit to adapt his ideas to the medium of role-playing.

I also suggest checking out these threads in the Sorcerer forum.

Circular campaign design
To Tor, Jesse, and Paul
and proceeding to the threads called Art-Deco Melodrama, Art-Deco Melodrama Part 2, and Art-Deco Melodrama: the final chapter

The on-line experiment contained in these threads is not being presented as the One True Way to prep for a game, but I think it demonstrates one way to get beyond some of the conundrums you're wrestling with.

Finally, I suggest opening up a private dialogue with Jesse Burneko, if he is available and willing. I can think of no one at the Forge who has worked through these issues as bravely, completely, and successfully as he.

Best,
Ron

If you're up for a bit of reading, I recommend the following books on writing: Steal That Plot! by William Noble, and Character, by Orson Scott Card. They are excellent entry-level discussions of plot/conflict components and dramatic character construction, respectively. Card's discussion also goes into fitting characters into particular types of story -- which, BTW, he does not define by genre.

Best,

Blake

Thanks for your replies, everyone. I will have a hunt around for those books, but I also have a feeling that perhaps the bad experience with OtE was just an unfortunate moment.

I just went and dug out my old copy of 'It Waits' and it seems pretty problematic as a scenario in that sense. The basic problem is that it doesn't allow the PCs to do much to change the story. They basically have to trail a sniffer dog around three locations. If there isn't much background on the characters (as in this case there wasn't, because we hadn't done the apparantly-essential game-storming phase before we started - remember, we had no idea about "narrativism") and the players are focused on the adventure, they won't think to do much else. The ending is almost completely scripted and the players were playing characters such that they couldn't do anything creative there. Not really a good thing to start from. Perhaps a better jumping point and more discussion would be the way to go.

The problem with OtE is its Abashed Narrativism. Actually it's sorta the opposite problem with OtE. Abashed Narrativism is Ron's term for a Game that says it's NArrativist but then doesn't back it up with mechanics. OtE has Narrativist mechanics, but no Narrative Premise. "Go to Al Amarja, and encounter stuff" is not a Narrativist Premise. Yet it's what the game is all about.

When I ran OtE I had all sorts of problems motivating the players. On reflection, the problem was that they had no idea why they were there (even with the kickers; after a while hiding out on an island that's trying to kill you is just silly), really, other than the string of events that is put before them. Like the scenario you mention. Very Simulationist in design. Incoherent design, overall.

Mike

Hello,

When I talked with Jonathan Tweet about Over the Edge, I had a sneaking suspicion that Something Had Happened in between his actual play of the game and the actual writing of the game for publication.

My suspicion was based on the paragraph when he writes about how the setting was developed through play, and how people (us, readers) should remember that the setting should not be used as a concrete set of parameters. This paragraph is utterly at variance with the rest of the book (with the exception of Robin Laws' essay), which is nothing but a concrete set of parameters in terms of NPCs, organizations, back-story, and locations.

I asked Jonathan about this, and he confirmed to me that just about all the setting content, like the Throckmortons, the Cut-Ups, the Baboons, Sir Arthur Crompton, the frats and sororities, Monique D'Aubainne herself, et al ... were created through play, largely through the agency of character creation and activity.

Sput!

This means that the power, enjoyment, and fun of Over the Edge, as experienced by its creator, is TOTALLY DIFFERENT from whatever enjoyment/fun is being presented as "do this" in the text of the game - which, as Mike correctly states, is "Go to Al Amarja and encounter the wild stuff in this book."

They played rock-and-roll. We are buying a karaoke version of their play. They played Over the Edge. We get to see what their play resulted in. Their enjoyment came from creation and riffing. Ours comes from re-living their activities.

Remember how I'm always on about Narrativist Premise usually arising from either Character or Setting, but not both? Here we have a system in which it arises quickly and powerfully from Character - but the rest of the game insisting on material in which it arises from Setting. That's the source of the incoherence that Mike mentions.

Best,
Ron

I've been thinking about that a lot, actually. Because in a lot of ways, Over the Edge is one of my favorite games. And I love the setting.

But if I were going to run it on a somewhat-longterm basis, I'd ditch the setting & make my own. I'd do what Tweet did in the beginning & have the setting generated by the players & GM, keeping the mechanics & the "weirdness" factor.

hyphz wrote:
As for trying to cater to players and run games often, the problem is that I always lack for ideas because my own ideas always have contradictions. For example, in the Star Wars

anyway? The Empire might be evil but they're not stupid and they certainly don't lack for resources.

Ron, that's a brilliant statement about OtE.

And it does tie in with what one feels on reading the book. If it really was the result of the players being involved in the different groups described then that seems to make much more sense than just throwing them on the island and attempting to run all the groups at once.

Personally, I used to like the OtE setting but I went off it pretty quick. The problem is that it's SO weird it's impossible to get a handle on what's going on, and exactly what the consequences of your actions will turn out to be. Other surreal-conspiracy type games did it too; Unknown Armies does it in some of its scenarios but not in others, for example the one in the main book and the first one in Weep are just way out there and insist on repeatedly throwing the players aspects which are impossibly powerful, totally inexplicable, totally uninvestigable, etc. (The ending of 'It Waits' did that too.) On the other hand, some of their rules and the other books and plots convey a far better environment, in which the rules are different and strange - but there are still rules.

On the OtE sub-thread . . .

Seems like there are (at least) 2 editions of OtE - any reason one is recommended over the other? Especially if your interest is not primarily to play the game, but rather to learn from it?

Gordon

There are two editions. Second Edition has the largely-white cover.

The text of the two editions is pretty much the same, but the second edition has a big multipage chart of how the conspiracies relate to each other, and also more internal art.