You know how it is; you think you've just about got it. Everyone keeps telling you to sit down and write your darn system, it's done. So down you sit, you get all your electrons in order and start...waffling. Oh it looks great at first, but even though you think you know all the parts of something, it never quite 'comes together.' So you struggle, two drafts, three.

Then one day you're driving to work (really a short commute; under ten minutes), arguing with your internal critic, trying to justify, examine, reword, or explain what you have. And it happens....

POW! ZAP! BAM! Just as bad as one of those old Batman television shows. A light shines through the clouds, the rain stops, all the animals look up at once. Epiphany!

See, I bin havin' some time writin' the GenEx instructions (that's short for Genre Expectations). I mean, I figured out all the 'parts' that can get detailed in describing a Genre Expectation, the Personae, Mechanix, Props, Relationships, Sequences, Background, and Circumstances that go into one. Seemed straightforward enough, but every time I tried to sit down and write about it, the article just meandered. No structure, no 'thrust,' no destination, just a weak laundry list of what 'gozinta' a Genre Expectation.

I was trying to describe to that immovable 'inner critic' the difference between cyberpunk and, well, anything else. Somehow, in my driving-addled brain, I wound up comparing Robocop to The Toxic Avenger (one movie I like well and another I can't sit through). That's when epiphany struck. Metaphorically speaking, they're the same movie. The hero, a likeable enough fellow, suffers terribly at the hands of his tormentors. Through no fault of his own, he undergoes a horrible transformation, which leaves him at first, lost. In finding himself, he discovers the true nature of humanity (and heroism). He not only overcomes his tormentors, but also rises to overcome those who wrought the awful transformation.

Yet how are they different? Well, outside the fact that one is serious and the other farcical, they're both science fiction. They both struggle against the inhuman 'corporate empire.' Both have a fair amount of violence. Then why is one cyberpunk and the other...other? It's the motif (I had to look that one up too). At every turn, Robocop invokes the air of futurism and unlimited technology (that's the cyber). The Toxic Avenger doesn't (oh there is a fair amount of bathroom humor and plenty of waste, but that doesn't describe a 'high genre'). Both have more than enough violence to be 'action films' (that's the punk).

So I gave the motif idea some thought. When I ran through Robocop in my head, every significant movement of the story occurred as a result of the motif in action. (Well, a couple of the major turns happened in spite of the motif, but that reinforces it just as well.) That's when it clicked into my favorite metaphor; "what is humanity?" After all, the title character goes from man to machine and back again. That was when it all clicked; Genre Expectation was missing metaphor.

Since I was thinking about humanity anyway, what about Sorcerer? It's got humanity, right? It's got premise, right? What's its metaphor? I gave that some thought. It doesn't have a metaphor. Nope, not at all. Right 'out of the box,' there isn't any. And that's a good thing. (It doesn't have more than the barest motif either, but I'll come back to that.)

'What?' You say, 'No metaphor, but...but....' Hold on; it doesn't come with a metaphor, but it makes you create one. As a matter of fact, this finally lead me to understand how all the 'complained about' sessions of Sorcerer failed (well, all that I have read). The game clearly tells you, you must fix what exactly Humanity means. What is Humanity? That's where it tracks onto my favorite metaphor (with a little mud on its boots, but who's complaining). Ron's general response to people who're having problems 'making it work' is 'how carefully did you describe Humanity?'

He doesn't come right out and say it, but what he's asking is "what's yer metaphor?" As Narrativistly ambitious as the game is, it couldn't function without a metaphor, especially without having it right out there 'on the table.' The thing that characterizes most cyberpunk (at least what I recognize as such) is flesh is the metaphor for 'humanness.' Anything that dehumanizes almost always either 'takes away the flesh' (like violence or cyberspace) or 'says it has no value' (like violence or big business). A number of cyberpunk games try to make gaining cyberwear do something detrimental like make you crazy or unsympathetic; however explicitly, these games follow the same idea.

What about motif? Well, from what I've read, I'd say that Sorcerer's motif is the demons. If I understand correctly, you have one, you had one, you're getting one, or one it complicating your life. Everything that 'acts upon the metaphor' has demons in it, right? That's pretty much "the motif in action." What makes Sorcerer so 'flexible' (just look at the number of 'mini-supplements') is that this motif is further specified. (I think that this might be another strong thread in the Sorcerer rules, but again, I haven't been able to spend any quality time with them.)

So where does that leave Premise (that's with a big "P")? Ron is forever telling us that the game doesn't function without stating the Premise outright. I have seen more people founder over this than any other concept around here. It seemed pretty obvious to me (although I couldn't figure out why it seemed out of place), I never had trouble identifying them. Now, I'm on record for saying I thought they were badly named (because, for all they were taken from Lajos Egri's work, they've changed a little too much for my tastes). I used to wage a campaign saying that properly a Premise would be what I was instructed to call a thematic message (or statement), or more accurately the thematic message answers the Premise.

Well, in light of my epiphany about metaphor and motif, I'd have to say identifying a Premise at the beginning of the game is a little 'cart before the horse' for most people. Now I understand how Egri gets into talking about an author thinking about the Premise as they write, but most readers discover the Premise after everything else. You go into a story with certain expectations of genre, like "it's cyberpunk" or "it's about demons." Unconsciously (or maybe consciously) you are also expecting certain metaphors, like "What's good about being 'human?'" or "What price humanity?" The story happens and you see how the characters turn out (being the symbols for ways to address the metaphor). From this (however unconsciously) the reader learns the thematic message of the story. Usually, this is the point where people get the 'aha!' feeling and only then they know what the Premise is. They see the question after they know the answer.

That's why Sorcerer has so much difficulty explaining what a Premise is to the uninitiated.

While it's an intriguing way to write a game (and a rock-solid valid one), it works mostly if you approach your gaming in a 'writerly fashion.' Not for me though. I like to romp around in a game and discover the consequences of my actions, discovering the Premise after-the-fact, as it were. Unfortunately, for me these games suffer when there is no metaphor. There are a lot of great motifs out there in gaming today. (I see that as the movement away from setting-based games; they are moving more toward motif.) Shadowrun is a really great game just dripping with an alchemical brew of motifs, but what is the metaphor?

When I play in a game that thrashes around without a metaphor, it can start out really cool as the motif begins to set in and we get the hang of it, but without a decent metaphor we begin to lose sight of how or why we invoke (or suffer from) the motifs. Shadowrun is one of the most poignant examples; all the stuff about the Great Ghost Dance and the rise of magic really hints at a strong metaphor. Heck the 'invasion' of the bug shaman also sketched onto a cool metaphor. The problem is, unless you get lucky, it just doesn't happen for you.

Unknown to me as I created them, Scattershot's Approaches (with more here) are all about aligning your play along certain estimable directions. Given those directions, and a metaphor to guide them by, the motifs can be accurately applied to create a really kick-ass experience. No more "if we're lucky, it'll be cool." You go your favorite direction, you can see how it relates to the metaphor and that tells you when to use the motif (better yet, it gives a strong indicator of when not to use them, or what not to run).

Let's look at an example. I'm not going to go into how I came up with this, just what it describes. Let's look at mainstream comic book superheroes (the descendant of the old four-color comics of yore). What's the metaphor? 'Might makes right.' (Although special considerations and pains are taken to avoid 'when power corrupts,' usually.) The main fashion this is addressed is through the concept of 'justice' (or maybe 'justness').

The motif is 'super' powers. Actually, everything is 'super.' You don't go to a city; you go to a metropolis. You don't travel to a cave; you visit an underground civilization. You don't fight a spaceship; you face an armada. Everything is 'super' or over-the-top. The motif is superpowers, so everything that happens, happens by or with them.

'Power corrupts' is noticeably absent and actually motivates one of the major genre tropes; every hero has his own personal villain(s). We concluded that these are just aspects of the same character. When you notice that a hero is two-dimensional, you miss that his 'third dimension' is his villain (who is subsequently one-dimensional). Spider-man is an earnest student of science given miraculous powers by an accident, not of his making. Doctor Octopus is an overly proud scientist given horrific powers by an accident resulting from his hubris. They are two sides of the same coin. (I surprised my wife last night; she never realized that both are themed on 'eight legs.' This reinforces the parallel.)

Each and every hero deals, on a daily basis, with the problems relating to whether the use of their powers is right or just. This is complicated because some of these 'uses' are those practiced by 'the other side of the coin,' their villain. Some of the most powerful stories about Superman aren't when he foils the villain, but when he wrestles with whether he should kill. I can't count the number of times Spider-man has considered tossing the whole thing only to be 'dragged back in.' A few authors have even struggled Batman's responsibility for the dealings of villains who exist simply because of his own actions.

Whew! Um, well, I guess that's about it. Not much to discuss, I suppose; I just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for your time. Hope this is of some value.... See ya later.

Fang Langford

p. s. So that's another major development for Scattershot. It makes me wonder if the thing is actually done, or if I'll keep having these ideas of import.

Hi Fang,

Great post, in more ways than one.

I agree with you in full regarding my use of Motif and Premise in Sorcerer, with the full expectation that people are capable of developing The Metaphor further for themselves. The second supplement for the game is dedicated to that exact purpose.

However, I think you're over-stating my position as "Premise-first," both in dialogues about play and in actual game design. For instance, neither the word nor the specific concept is ever mentioned in Sorcerer or any of its supplements. Premise doesn't have to be stated up front and functionally only develops through play itself. As usual, all the elements of GNS should be read with the "facilitates X" qualifier when we're talking about design.

I use the term a lot on discussions on the Forge, yes. However - only when discussing play or design with people who are familiar with my essay. You won't see me using it in discussions with new people here, or in game texts.

Best,
Ron

Ron Edwards wrote: However, I think you're over-stating my position as "Premise-first,"

Fang, you complain about Ron stretching the word "Premise," yet you're doing far more violence to "Metaphor" here. "What's good about being human?" and "Might makes right" are not metaphors.

Other than that, excellent epiphany. Very revelatory.

Seth L. Blumberg wrote: Fang, you complain about Ron stretching the word "Premise," yet you're doing far more violence to "Metaphor" here. "What's good about being human?" and "Might makes right" are not metaphors.

Other than that, excellent epiphany. Very relevatory.