In Halo, one of the biggest ways you determine what kind of player you are is by what kind of weapons you use, since you can only carry two. Your fire patterns and method of movement are closely related to the weapons you carry.
The choice of weapons is not a complex, high-grain choice with a thousand details. If you want the weapon, you drop the old one and pick up the new one. No "adverbs", no place on a slider, no skill challenge.
Furthermore, you can see the choice transparently long before you make it. In fact, you usually don't bother making the choice at all unless you see it is a choice worth making. Furtherurthermore, you can always come back and make the choice again, or reverse your choice.
There's no stress, no tension, no confusion, no cleverness, no secrets.
But it is one of the most important parts of the game, letting a player choose how they will play. It allows the player to express themselves in the simplest way: picking their favorite of two choices.
The rest of the game is like that, too: if you move right, you can almost always undo it by moving left. If you fire, you can usually adjust your aim and fire again. But firing and strafing and turning and walking are all excruciatingly simple choices. There is no complexity to them individually. It is only when you make a large number of them that the personality of the player begins to come through. And that's only because each choice slightly changes the context of the game - including relative to other kinds of choices.
Most of the "social simulation" systems out there - storyworlds and so on and so forth - rely almost exclusively on the idea that a few very precise choices is the best approach. "If we can give the player enough precision..." they guess, "if we give the player the ability to express himself exactly..."
That's like playing Pac-Man by letting players put the Pacmeister anywhere on the board whenever they want. "It'll give the players the freedom to tell the story of Pac-Man in any way they find interesting..." It will also be boring and pointless and completely futile because it short circuits the feedback loops. What little play remains may contain feedback loops, but only the most simplistic, useless kind.
Instead, a few different kinds of interaction should be given which allow the player to make a large number of small choices to subtly change the context of the world. Instead of the player performing a big action like giving roses to Sue, the player would perform a larger number of small actions. Perhaps managing poise, personal space, facial expression, and gaze target. Obviously, these choices would have to be more clearly represented, so the player can really get a feel for them.
But the same four basic kinds of action could also be used in bar-room standoffs, talking to the cops, preaching to a room full of southern Baptists, playing with children - any kind of social action you can imagine. Instead of fifty different kinds of "social action", have four smaller kinds of interaction and let them "load up" on any equipment they might feel they need. (Roses, spiky collars, brightly colored plush toys...) This would be the equivalent of picking a weapon in Halo: a choice made rarely that changes the way you "move" in your more common interactions.
I'm not saying that those four are the best four, or that this approach is the best approach. I'm saying that a few very exacting choices are vastly inferior to a large number of tiny choices.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Put In Another Gun: It'll Add Gameplay!
Edit: Recently, someone called this "ranty". I'm a pretty ranty kind of guy, but I'm not trying to rant, here. I'm trying to explain using some specific examples, but it doesn't mean I think more or less highly of those examples than others not mentioned.
Last post, Chill made the following innocuous comment: "Meaning that there may be a few stats, but the important thing is that there a lot of places on that scale that one could be... Point is, the more actually different ways one can affect a system and get meaningful feedback, the better."
I think he was trying to agree with me, but this is a chance to spring some fundamental design principles on both of my readers, so that's what I'ma gonna do. Chill's comment provides a useful springboard.
I no longer believe anything I quoted above is correct.
It hasn't been long since I changed my mind, though. Less than a month.
I think that the key to good gameplay is a few simple rules that produce complex results. But... I don't think that's clear enough. Let's give a surprising example:
In a shmup, you have a spaceship. The interaction is simple: you can move, you can shoot, you can use the bomb. Pretty simple? You know what I think when I look at that?
"What's with the bomb special case?"
The bomb isn't a deep rule. It just rescues your ass when you prove to be too inept. It serves the same basic purpose as a life. Why does it exist?
Some shmups have a really nifty bomb. For example, it switches what enemies you're immune to, or it sucks in bullets and turns them into a super-shot. You know what I say then?
"What's with the bomb special case?"
The core of the game is moving and shooting. You already have moving and shooting. If you need to add a bomb mechanic, don't. Change your shooting or moving mechanics to be deeper. Or make something automatic - either the bomb or the shooting - so that it isn't an interaction rule any more. Having duplicate attack mechanics is just saying "our design-fu is too weak to make any of our stuff actually good, so we give you more rules and hope you don't notice."
...
"Did he just say that shmups are too complicated? Shmups, the simplest game outside of match three?"
Not exactly. I'm saying that shmups have too many ways of meaningfully interacting with the same system. Modulating your movement, shooting, and how you die... if you can't make deep gameplay out of that, you're just screwed as a designer. As a designer, you should be able to make deep gameplay out of any one of those.
There are games with "complex rules". For example, action RPGs. Let's say: combat movement, world map movement, combat moves, items, equipment, money, leveling... tack on optionals like managing team-mates, social management, plot trees, TACOs, skill challenges...
I'm not saying those are bad. The rules in good games are chosen so that they feed each other but don't step on each other. While you can slice with a sword or cast magic fire or throw a grenade, those are actually just one rule: attacking. You modulate the cost and effectiveness of attacking, allowing the player to express himself within the rule.
The problem with phrases like "places on the scale" and "lots of ways to get meaningful feedback" is that they do not actually encourage good rules. They simply encourage rules.
Being at a point on a scale is not a very good way of expressing yourself: it's too one-dimensional. The good news is that in a game like Magic the Gathering, you're not just expressing yourself one-dimensionally. Sure, you show a preference for a particular mana cost, but you also pick a particular color and, hell, particular cards. It's one of the most expressive games out there. While the actual combat has a lot of dumb rules that aren't deep, the actual game of Magic the Gathering lies in creating and using decks of cards... a simple but very expressive set of rules.
Getting meaningful feedback isn't important, either. Again, a rule should allow the game's characters (or other challenges) to express themselves as well. It's not about feedback: it's about establishing a distinct feeling that this part of the game has a personality and something resembling a will.
The rules for combat are relatively simple, but by giving monsters different combat stats and capabilities, the ice caves of Hrraaaalg play very differently from the soldier's barracks...
So don't think of rules as being deep or wide or good or bad. Think of rules as tools for expression, and if you can't think of a way to express a wide range of intents and personalities in the rule, don't put it in.
And, of course, if there's another rule that lets you express yourself in the same way, but not as well, kill it. It's just extra fat.
...
That would have been a good place to end it, but I have to say this:
Adding more guns isn't adding more rules. It's simply adding another permutation to an existing interaction (in this case, the "attack" interaction). This can be good or bad, but it's an entirely separate question.
Last post, Chill made the following innocuous comment: "Meaning that there may be a few stats, but the important thing is that there a lot of places on that scale that one could be... Point is, the more actually different ways one can affect a system and get meaningful feedback, the better."
I think he was trying to agree with me, but this is a chance to spring some fundamental design principles on both of my readers, so that's what I'ma gonna do. Chill's comment provides a useful springboard.
I no longer believe anything I quoted above is correct.
It hasn't been long since I changed my mind, though. Less than a month.
I think that the key to good gameplay is a few simple rules that produce complex results. But... I don't think that's clear enough. Let's give a surprising example:
In a shmup, you have a spaceship. The interaction is simple: you can move, you can shoot, you can use the bomb. Pretty simple? You know what I think when I look at that?
"What's with the bomb special case?"
The bomb isn't a deep rule. It just rescues your ass when you prove to be too inept. It serves the same basic purpose as a life. Why does it exist?
Some shmups have a really nifty bomb. For example, it switches what enemies you're immune to, or it sucks in bullets and turns them into a super-shot. You know what I say then?
"What's with the bomb special case?"
The core of the game is moving and shooting. You already have moving and shooting. If you need to add a bomb mechanic, don't. Change your shooting or moving mechanics to be deeper. Or make something automatic - either the bomb or the shooting - so that it isn't an interaction rule any more. Having duplicate attack mechanics is just saying "our design-fu is too weak to make any of our stuff actually good, so we give you more rules and hope you don't notice."
...
"Did he just say that shmups are too complicated? Shmups, the simplest game outside of match three?"
Not exactly. I'm saying that shmups have too many ways of meaningfully interacting with the same system. Modulating your movement, shooting, and how you die... if you can't make deep gameplay out of that, you're just screwed as a designer. As a designer, you should be able to make deep gameplay out of any one of those.
There are games with "complex rules". For example, action RPGs. Let's say: combat movement, world map movement, combat moves, items, equipment, money, leveling... tack on optionals like managing team-mates, social management, plot trees, TACOs, skill challenges...
I'm not saying those are bad. The rules in good games are chosen so that they feed each other but don't step on each other. While you can slice with a sword or cast magic fire or throw a grenade, those are actually just one rule: attacking. You modulate the cost and effectiveness of attacking, allowing the player to express himself within the rule.
The problem with phrases like "places on the scale" and "lots of ways to get meaningful feedback" is that they do not actually encourage good rules. They simply encourage rules.
Being at a point on a scale is not a very good way of expressing yourself: it's too one-dimensional. The good news is that in a game like Magic the Gathering, you're not just expressing yourself one-dimensionally. Sure, you show a preference for a particular mana cost, but you also pick a particular color and, hell, particular cards. It's one of the most expressive games out there. While the actual combat has a lot of dumb rules that aren't deep, the actual game of Magic the Gathering lies in creating and using decks of cards... a simple but very expressive set of rules.
Getting meaningful feedback isn't important, either. Again, a rule should allow the game's characters (or other challenges) to express themselves as well. It's not about feedback: it's about establishing a distinct feeling that this part of the game has a personality and something resembling a will.
The rules for combat are relatively simple, but by giving monsters different combat stats and capabilities, the ice caves of Hrraaaalg play very differently from the soldier's barracks...
So don't think of rules as being deep or wide or good or bad. Think of rules as tools for expression, and if you can't think of a way to express a wide range of intents and personalities in the rule, don't put it in.
And, of course, if there's another rule that lets you express yourself in the same way, but not as well, kill it. It's just extra fat.
...
That would have been a good place to end it, but I have to say this:
Adding more guns isn't adding more rules. It's simply adding another permutation to an existing interaction (in this case, the "attack" interaction). This can be good or bad, but it's an entirely separate question.
Advanced Personality Simulation
When you're trying to create a "next generation" NPC, usually the method is to make it so that the NPC thinks about relationships in a more complicated way than "I like you X amount", and can therefore respond in a way more complicated than "I'll give you the quest".
I've discussed a lot of difficulties with this, ranging from a need for a wide variety of actions with nuance to the need for a detailed world to offer fodder for interaction. Today I'd like to assume those and talk a little bit about an easy way to do the actual personality calculations.
The problem with the majority of "advanced personality models" is that they still default to flat numbers. For example, they have a stat as to how much they like you. The urge most designers feel is to simply add more flat numbers: this is how much they like you, that's how much they trust you, that's how attracted they are too you, that's how much they respect or fear you...
I think it's more important to have fewer, deeper numbers rather than more, shallow numbers. The basics of deep gameplay are to have a few rules that produce complex situations, not to have a lot of rules that produce complex situations. The latter is inherently limited, inefficient, and flat-out inferior.
So let's say we've got only one number: how much they like you.
The way to make it more interesting and realistic is to also have the derivatives and integrals of that number. Basically, we turn that number into:
Their long-term relationship with you. (area)
How much they like you. (position)
How respectable/fun you've been recently. (velocity)
How charming you're being. (acceleration)
All of these numbers change with everything the character does, but they are all deeply intertangled. Each character can then have a personality designed to weight those factors differently.
For example, a suspicious aristocrat might have a low maximum acceleration threshold, and therefore innately distrust anyone being especially charming. This doesn't affect the end result in terms of how the acceleration changes the velocity changes the position: it just changes how they act towards you right now.
On the other hand, an honorable knight might weight almost all his interactions based on area rather than position. How charming you're being right now won't affect his decisions much.
You can also split up their actions into action and demeanor, or even into long-term, short-term, and demeanor. For example, the aristocrat will be charming right back to anyone who's being charming, but he won't believe a word of it when they say that they'll pay you back next Friday.
A knight, on the other hand, might have a demeanor based almost entirely on charm and fun (acceleration and velocity) but make his long-term decisions based entirely on area (long-term relationship). IE, "You're an ass, but you're my brother, so I'll do it."
It's not so complex. Easy, in fact. And more realistic than trying to decide on what four or five kinds of relationships a person can have. Instead, a given NPC will interpret their emotions into whatever makes sense for their personality, and the "kinds of relationships" will emerge naturally.
For extra fun, let players define their character's personality. :D
I've discussed a lot of difficulties with this, ranging from a need for a wide variety of actions with nuance to the need for a detailed world to offer fodder for interaction. Today I'd like to assume those and talk a little bit about an easy way to do the actual personality calculations.
The problem with the majority of "advanced personality models" is that they still default to flat numbers. For example, they have a stat as to how much they like you. The urge most designers feel is to simply add more flat numbers: this is how much they like you, that's how much they trust you, that's how attracted they are too you, that's how much they respect or fear you...
I think it's more important to have fewer, deeper numbers rather than more, shallow numbers. The basics of deep gameplay are to have a few rules that produce complex situations, not to have a lot of rules that produce complex situations. The latter is inherently limited, inefficient, and flat-out inferior.
So let's say we've got only one number: how much they like you.
The way to make it more interesting and realistic is to also have the derivatives and integrals of that number. Basically, we turn that number into:
Their long-term relationship with you. (area)
How much they like you. (position)
How respectable/fun you've been recently. (velocity)
How charming you're being. (acceleration)
All of these numbers change with everything the character does, but they are all deeply intertangled. Each character can then have a personality designed to weight those factors differently.
For example, a suspicious aristocrat might have a low maximum acceleration threshold, and therefore innately distrust anyone being especially charming. This doesn't affect the end result in terms of how the acceleration changes the velocity changes the position: it just changes how they act towards you right now.
On the other hand, an honorable knight might weight almost all his interactions based on area rather than position. How charming you're being right now won't affect his decisions much.
You can also split up their actions into action and demeanor, or even into long-term, short-term, and demeanor. For example, the aristocrat will be charming right back to anyone who's being charming, but he won't believe a word of it when they say that they'll pay you back next Friday.
A knight, on the other hand, might have a demeanor based almost entirely on charm and fun (acceleration and velocity) but make his long-term decisions based entirely on area (long-term relationship). IE, "You're an ass, but you're my brother, so I'll do it."
It's not so complex. Easy, in fact. And more realistic than trying to decide on what four or five kinds of relationships a person can have. Instead, a given NPC will interpret their emotions into whatever makes sense for their personality, and the "kinds of relationships" will emerge naturally.
For extra fun, let players define their character's personality. :D
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Cooperative Storytelling, the Guide
I wrote the guide. I guarantee you might find it interesting.
Guide to Making Games Featuring Cooperative Storytelling.
Guide to Making Games Featuring Cooperative Storytelling.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Drop it! Bad dog!
Back when I first started running games, I was a bit of a control freak. I think most GMs start that way, especially if they're still in their mid teens when they start.
But it didn't take me too long (half a decade? Gah...) before I realized the joys of not being a control freak.
As time progressed, I began to define my own ideas more and more loosely, then just adapting to whatever the players put into the game. If you've done this, you've probably found the same thing I did: more cannibals make better soup. Or something.
Basically, it just comes down to time. The more freedom you give them, the more time they spend. I feel vaguely guilty when I find out that some of my players spent literally thirty hours each in one week on one game, when I spent about ten on the game in total... but guilty or not, the end result speaks for itself: the story is more detailed, more varied, more interesting, and more personalized than I could have possibly created even spending thirty hours a week on it.
There's something about people creating stories together. Maybe it's just that everyone has different areas they're good at, and by combining you can pick the best talent at the best moment for a more universally good story. Maybe it's sheer dint of time and effort. Maybe it's the way that players will feed off each other more and more excitedly the more time you give them together.
Likely, it's all of those factors and others combined.
But the end result is simple:
Stop writing your games!
All o' you combined are more talented than you are alone, and players like having some measure of control over the story. Most of them might feel nervous ("I can't tell a good story!"), but once they've gotten past stage one they contribute some of the most astonishing gems. Something to do with the fact that they don't look at storytelling the same way, I think.
I'm not saying you can't have a story. Hell, every game I run is seeded with plot elements and metaphysics, and even if I waltz away for a month and let it run itself, I find that the players pretty much act out the story I had planned. Except with a level of detail and breadth of quality that astound.
Now, you can try to do this kind of thing with D&D. Except you'll find that the only way to control the story in D&D is by the PCs having huge amounts of power, which basically turns the whole thing into a terrible wish-fulfillment thing that leaves all the players glaring at each other.
Like any kind of play, if the play isn't deep, the play doesn't entertain. You've got to have some method of controlling story elements. Something the players can sink their teeth into while they work with the story. Something that doesn't scare newbies, but is deep enough to entertain the experts. Simultaneously.
Most GMs don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Some of them - probably many of the people who read this post - are thinking in terms of Nobilis or hazily-remembered reviews of "Life with Master" or PrimeTime. A few may have actually played one of these games, or at least seen a rule book.
Well, I'm'a gonna write up a big "playing narrative" guide, because I'm sitting on all of those and a dozen more. And because I'm completely exhausted and burned out. Obviously, what I need to do is write up a post on how to do interactive narratives.
I hope you'll read and enjoy it. Expect it before Monday.
But it didn't take me too long (half a decade? Gah...) before I realized the joys of not being a control freak.
As time progressed, I began to define my own ideas more and more loosely, then just adapting to whatever the players put into the game. If you've done this, you've probably found the same thing I did: more cannibals make better soup. Or something.
Basically, it just comes down to time. The more freedom you give them, the more time they spend. I feel vaguely guilty when I find out that some of my players spent literally thirty hours each in one week on one game, when I spent about ten on the game in total... but guilty or not, the end result speaks for itself: the story is more detailed, more varied, more interesting, and more personalized than I could have possibly created even spending thirty hours a week on it.
There's something about people creating stories together. Maybe it's just that everyone has different areas they're good at, and by combining you can pick the best talent at the best moment for a more universally good story. Maybe it's sheer dint of time and effort. Maybe it's the way that players will feed off each other more and more excitedly the more time you give them together.
Likely, it's all of those factors and others combined.
But the end result is simple:
Stop writing your games!
All o' you combined are more talented than you are alone, and players like having some measure of control over the story. Most of them might feel nervous ("I can't tell a good story!"), but once they've gotten past stage one they contribute some of the most astonishing gems. Something to do with the fact that they don't look at storytelling the same way, I think.
I'm not saying you can't have a story. Hell, every game I run is seeded with plot elements and metaphysics, and even if I waltz away for a month and let it run itself, I find that the players pretty much act out the story I had planned. Except with a level of detail and breadth of quality that astound.
Now, you can try to do this kind of thing with D&D. Except you'll find that the only way to control the story in D&D is by the PCs having huge amounts of power, which basically turns the whole thing into a terrible wish-fulfillment thing that leaves all the players glaring at each other.
Like any kind of play, if the play isn't deep, the play doesn't entertain. You've got to have some method of controlling story elements. Something the players can sink their teeth into while they work with the story. Something that doesn't scare newbies, but is deep enough to entertain the experts. Simultaneously.
Most GMs don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Some of them - probably many of the people who read this post - are thinking in terms of Nobilis or hazily-remembered reviews of "Life with Master" or PrimeTime. A few may have actually played one of these games, or at least seen a rule book.
Well, I'm'a gonna write up a big "playing narrative" guide, because I'm sitting on all of those and a dozen more. And because I'm completely exhausted and burned out. Obviously, what I need to do is write up a post on how to do interactive narratives.
I hope you'll read and enjoy it. Expect it before Monday.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
More Rail Shooters!
So, I've been getting a fair amount of experience with first person shooters and the wiimote. Plus, I've gotten to see a lot of other people play and so forth and so on.
And my opinion is that the Wii needs more rail shooters.
The wiimote is a great pointer, but there's a reason people don't shoot from the hip. It's not just that we can target down the sights: it's that we have better control when our gun is held at distance, linked to our eyeballs.
We'll put aside the fact that not being able to think of strafing in terms of a strict 90 degrees complicates things. As far as I can see, people get the hang of strafing pretty easy. No, it's the "shooting from the hip".
Most FPS games use a simulated set of gun sights. When you move the mouse or the thumb stick, your guy moves his gun, which is DIRECTLY LINKED TO YOUR LINE OF SIGHT, like guns really are.
So, what do wiimote games do? Instead of becoming more closely linked to the way that things actually work, they decided to add another layer of separation. Argh!
Normally, I would be open to arguments that we just have to get used to it. After all, we got used to using two thumbsticks to control our FPS action, we can get used to this, right?
Well, I've watched people who literally play Wii FPS games for hours a day. They are still clumsy at the controls. The moving isn't the problem: they figure that out pretty quick. It's the aiming. The shoot-from-the-hip aiming system. It doesn't work.
No, I think this is an inherently poor interface choice.
If you want the wiimote to be a gun, make it a gun.
Give me rail shooters!
And my opinion is that the Wii needs more rail shooters.
The wiimote is a great pointer, but there's a reason people don't shoot from the hip. It's not just that we can target down the sights: it's that we have better control when our gun is held at distance, linked to our eyeballs.
We'll put aside the fact that not being able to think of strafing in terms of a strict 90 degrees complicates things. As far as I can see, people get the hang of strafing pretty easy. No, it's the "shooting from the hip".
Most FPS games use a simulated set of gun sights. When you move the mouse or the thumb stick, your guy moves his gun, which is DIRECTLY LINKED TO YOUR LINE OF SIGHT, like guns really are.
So, what do wiimote games do? Instead of becoming more closely linked to the way that things actually work, they decided to add another layer of separation. Argh!
Normally, I would be open to arguments that we just have to get used to it. After all, we got used to using two thumbsticks to control our FPS action, we can get used to this, right?
Well, I've watched people who literally play Wii FPS games for hours a day. They are still clumsy at the controls. The moving isn't the problem: they figure that out pretty quick. It's the aiming. The shoot-from-the-hip aiming system. It doesn't work.
No, I think this is an inherently poor interface choice.
If you want the wiimote to be a gun, make it a gun.
Give me rail shooters!
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Rock Around the Clock!
This is part of the make your own guide to creating role playing systems.
One of the things that most people don't understand is the sheer number of ways to play games. Most GMs are stuck in a mindset: "Six guys sitting around a table, marking papers and rolling dice, once per week."
Well, that's certainly not the only way to play. In fact, it isn't even the best.
What sitting at a table together on a schedule gives you, primarily, is focus. It's really easy to play the game if everyone gets together on a specific night, at a specific time. And if Jimmy doesn't show, play without him. Even then, however, there are other methods. :P
How you want your game to run is a big choice. Most GMs will probably think in terms of "once per week" or some such. If that's your first instinct, then you can't pick that. It's much better to run anything else - one-shots, if your time is strict. There's nothing inherently wrong with once-a-week (or twice-a-month) games, but there's also nothing inherently wrong with sauerkraut. We still eat other things.
Here are some of my favorite schedules (This doesn't even take into account how the game is played, which is really important, too. So many factors!):
Once a week.
Super common. Generally about how often people think they want to play. Not long enough to completely forget about how much fun you had (or didn't have), although a lot of the vigor will wear off, especially among players who don't work 40 hours a week.
Once per (two weeks/one month).
A lot of people that have lives prefer this length of time. "I can make it every other Saturday..."
This won't be often enough to keep up with students or the unemployed, but for people who work too hard, it's probably ideal. However, I would suggest that you limit yourself to only people who work too hard if you choose this method: the odd one out tends to be really the odd one out.
Two+ per week.
It's very uncommon for one team to run the same game twice per week. I guess there's a feeling that you're basically spending your life on this game. The upside is that the energy level will remain high (presuming it's a fun game). The downside is that nobody will want to sign up. The only time I've been able to run like this is with my room-mates back in college.
This is, however, a really great way to level up your GMing skills. It's like weight-training for geeks.
The One-Shot.
Specifically, the one-shot that lasts as long as one session normally would.
One-shots are occasionally perfect for what you need. However, many games (and systems) are rigged for long-term fun rather than short-term fun, and you'll never feel that pull with one-shots.
Still, it's really easy to get people signed up for one-shots. :)
Multiphase.
At some point or another, every GM dreams of running two parties in the same universe, typically each party running once per week. You might have even heard stories. I'm here to tell you: Don't do it!
The only way to successfully run a multi-party game is to be an expert at front-loading your metagames. Yeah, didn't think so. Try some other situations with heavy metagaming, work your way up to this.
Long-Ass One-Shot.
A one-shot which lasts eight or more hours, often stretching into days. This isn't actually as uncommon as it sounds: Diplomacy is a long-ass one-shot, and people play that basically every weekend.
A LAOS isn't really suitable for sit-in-a-circle-and-roll-dice games. There needs to be a structure that allows players to sift in and out as food, bathroom, and sleep beckon. And showers. So, typically, these games are LARPs.
The upside to these is that immersion is fantastically strong, which is more important than you might think. The downside is that you have to be completely insane to sign up for such a game. To say nothing of how much pain it inflicts on the GMs.
Churner.
The churner is a game which operates on the player's time. An example would be assassins.
Churners are difficult to balance, because players all have radically different amounts of time to throw at playing the game. This is a very difficult kind of game to run properly, although everyone should try to run one.
Back-Burner.
This is a reoccurring game, typically a tabletop or LARP, in which the time between sessions still has game-related stuff in it. An example would be a tabletop with individual mini-sessions. Another example would be a game where you throw so much information at the players that they have to spend all week trying to sift through it.
These games tend to be very big on the metagaming, so if you want to hone your meta-skills, this would be a good way to run. Remember, though: "normal" systems aren't suited. They're all designed for simultaneous play rather than asynchronous play. You see the tear lines pretty quick.
Done right, however, this completely negates the way that players lose interest between sessions. Used correctly, players will come into the room half an hour early, waving papers at you and yelling over each other.
At the Con.
Some games you'll want to run at a weekend-long convention of some sort. Typically a 4-6 hour block of time. Something to keep in mind, regardless of what kind of game it is, is that all your players will be tired. Yeah, best to take that under consideration.
Also take into consideration who your competitors are. In the beginning, I screwed up by running opposite the Big Bad Game. As time went on, I watched other people make the same mistake. Just because Saturday at 7 PM is best for you doesn't mean it's the best time to run your game.
After all, I might be running my game then... ;D
One of the things that most people don't understand is the sheer number of ways to play games. Most GMs are stuck in a mindset: "Six guys sitting around a table, marking papers and rolling dice, once per week."
Well, that's certainly not the only way to play. In fact, it isn't even the best.
What sitting at a table together on a schedule gives you, primarily, is focus. It's really easy to play the game if everyone gets together on a specific night, at a specific time. And if Jimmy doesn't show, play without him. Even then, however, there are other methods. :P
How you want your game to run is a big choice. Most GMs will probably think in terms of "once per week" or some such. If that's your first instinct, then you can't pick that. It's much better to run anything else - one-shots, if your time is strict. There's nothing inherently wrong with once-a-week (or twice-a-month) games, but there's also nothing inherently wrong with sauerkraut. We still eat other things.
Here are some of my favorite schedules (This doesn't even take into account how the game is played, which is really important, too. So many factors!):
Once a week.
Super common. Generally about how often people think they want to play. Not long enough to completely forget about how much fun you had (or didn't have), although a lot of the vigor will wear off, especially among players who don't work 40 hours a week.
Once per (two weeks/one month).
A lot of people that have lives prefer this length of time. "I can make it every other Saturday..."
This won't be often enough to keep up with students or the unemployed, but for people who work too hard, it's probably ideal. However, I would suggest that you limit yourself to only people who work too hard if you choose this method: the odd one out tends to be really the odd one out.
Two+ per week.
It's very uncommon for one team to run the same game twice per week. I guess there's a feeling that you're basically spending your life on this game. The upside is that the energy level will remain high (presuming it's a fun game). The downside is that nobody will want to sign up. The only time I've been able to run like this is with my room-mates back in college.
This is, however, a really great way to level up your GMing skills. It's like weight-training for geeks.
The One-Shot.
Specifically, the one-shot that lasts as long as one session normally would.
One-shots are occasionally perfect for what you need. However, many games (and systems) are rigged for long-term fun rather than short-term fun, and you'll never feel that pull with one-shots.
Still, it's really easy to get people signed up for one-shots. :)
Multiphase.
At some point or another, every GM dreams of running two parties in the same universe, typically each party running once per week. You might have even heard stories. I'm here to tell you: Don't do it!
The only way to successfully run a multi-party game is to be an expert at front-loading your metagames. Yeah, didn't think so. Try some other situations with heavy metagaming, work your way up to this.
Long-Ass One-Shot.
A one-shot which lasts eight or more hours, often stretching into days. This isn't actually as uncommon as it sounds: Diplomacy is a long-ass one-shot, and people play that basically every weekend.
A LAOS isn't really suitable for sit-in-a-circle-and-roll-dice games. There needs to be a structure that allows players to sift in and out as food, bathroom, and sleep beckon. And showers. So, typically, these games are LARPs.
The upside to these is that immersion is fantastically strong, which is more important than you might think. The downside is that you have to be completely insane to sign up for such a game. To say nothing of how much pain it inflicts on the GMs.
Churner.
The churner is a game which operates on the player's time. An example would be assassins.
Churners are difficult to balance, because players all have radically different amounts of time to throw at playing the game. This is a very difficult kind of game to run properly, although everyone should try to run one.
Back-Burner.
This is a reoccurring game, typically a tabletop or LARP, in which the time between sessions still has game-related stuff in it. An example would be a tabletop with individual mini-sessions. Another example would be a game where you throw so much information at the players that they have to spend all week trying to sift through it.
These games tend to be very big on the metagaming, so if you want to hone your meta-skills, this would be a good way to run. Remember, though: "normal" systems aren't suited. They're all designed for simultaneous play rather than asynchronous play. You see the tear lines pretty quick.
Done right, however, this completely negates the way that players lose interest between sessions. Used correctly, players will come into the room half an hour early, waving papers at you and yelling over each other.
At the Con.
Some games you'll want to run at a weekend-long convention of some sort. Typically a 4-6 hour block of time. Something to keep in mind, regardless of what kind of game it is, is that all your players will be tired. Yeah, best to take that under consideration.
Also take into consideration who your competitors are. In the beginning, I screwed up by running opposite the Big Bad Game. As time went on, I watched other people make the same mistake. Just because Saturday at 7 PM is best for you doesn't mean it's the best time to run your game.
After all, I might be running my game then... ;D
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