GLOW

Glow on Netflix—a show about women in wrestling that isn’t just for wrestling fans.

Every GM should watch professional wrestling.

Let me amend that. Every GM should watch good professional wrestling. And yes, before you ask, let me say that there is such a thing.

For most people, their experience with the genre is limited to 80’s style WWF kick-punch-repeat. Well, my fellow gamers, that’s like someone saying, “I don’t like gaming” after playing Tomb of Horrors.

When friends of mine ask me how I can watch pro wrestling, I ask them for twenty-five minutes of their time so they can watch Max Landis’ Wrestling Isn’t Wrestling. And if you aren’t a wrestling fan and you’re wondering why I am and you haven’t seen it yet, you should. Video below (probably NSFW, depending on where you work).

I could go on about this, but that’s not why I’m here. Why I’m here is to encourage you to watch GLOW on Netflix. A show that’s loosely based on the real all-woman wrestling promotion from the ’80’s. I say “loosely based” because while the show does tell the story of an actual wrestling promotion, the characters are completely fictional. Now, me being a nut for history—especially the history of the things I love like gaming and pro wrestling—I recognized a lot of what’s going on. There are tips of the hat to the actual people involved and that’s kind of cool. Almost like making a fake version of Europe for a fantasy roleplaying game…

Watching the show reminded me of running an all-woman game of Changeling a while back. Running a game for women is entirely different than running a game for men. Priorities are different. The tone is different. And watching a show run by women, written by women with an almost entirely female cast about something I love gave me an entirely different perspective on professional wrestling.

But then again, this isn’t a show about professional wrestling. It’s a show about women in professional wrestling, but it’s still a show about women. And in the hyper-testosterone world of wrestling, that’s not just a breath of fresh air, it’s like opening the door on Socrates’ cave.

I not only enjoyed the heck out of watching GLOW, I’m also grateful for it. I ran all the way through it, watching episode after episode. And I’ll probably watch it again. Seeing GLOW and Wonder Woman in the span of a couple of weeks had a profound impact on me as a writer, a storyteller, a game designer and a man.

A friend of mine once asked me, “John, why do so many women play your games?”

I replied, “I try to make games women want to play.”

GLOW isn’t just a show for women, but it is a show about women. And women shouldn’t be the only ones watching it.

The Mighty Mighty Foster and the MMO

My buddy

 (the Eternal Nomad) has some thoughts about MMOs that intrigued me. I recognize some of this monologue from conversations we’ve had about roleplaying games and MMOs in the past and some new insights.

If I ever get a chance to design an MMO myself, I’ll be calling on him for insight.   

Two LARP Thoughts

Congrats. You Win.

Here’s an idea. Something I’d implement if I were running a Vampire LARP. Once you become Prince, we throw you a party. Everyone congratulates you on your well-earned victory–becoming Prince is rough–and then… your character becomes an NPC.

An NPC. Controlled by the Narrators. You move off the front page and move behind the scenes. You become the invisible man. Nobody gets to talk to the Prince directly. He isolates himself. He doesn’t come to games. He’s far too busy to socialize with the masses. And he remains there, in the shadows, until someone deposes him. Then that character becomes the Prince.

This process changes the dynamic of the game. The struggle to become Prince is the focus of the game, pitting all the weight on the court officers: the Seneschal, the Harpy, the Sheriff. Also, once you’ve become Prince, you join a kind of elite club. “Yeah, I’ve made Prince three times.” I’d even buy rings for the folks who made it.

I’ve been in games where the Prince was removed from the game, made distant and difficult to reach. The focus went to little story lines. Yes, the politics were still there–especially among the Primogen–but removing the Prince really changed the dynamic. And for the better.

Narrator/Servant

Here’s an idea. In the Houses of the Blooded LARP, all the Narrator staff will be playing the serving staff. The butler, the maids, the footmen, etc. So, if you need a test, you don’t say “I need a Narrator,” you say, “I need a servant.” You call the servant over, he humbly begs you not to kill him, and you demand service.

This way, you never need to break character. “I need a Narrator.” Hells no. “I need a servant.” You can call over the Narrator in character, talk to the Narrator in character, and resolve the issue in character.

This also means the Narrator staff goes around the game being part of every conversation. Asking the players if they need anything, serving drinks and food, making sure everybody is okay.

(It also means they can be bribed by characters for all the conversations they overhear.)

Game Design Rule #1

Game Design Rule #1: Don’t Design Games for People You Wouldn’t Allow at Your Table

Writing Houses. Writing The Wanker Rue into the chapter on aspects. It looks like this:

Using aspects is fun. It should be fun. Sometimes it’s fun.

Sometimes, a player abuses the rules to make the game fun for him at the expense of everyone else. Ah, wankers.
David Williams (one of the best game design minds in the world) came up with The Wanker Rule. At least, I learned it from him. Here’s how it goes.

If you find a way to interpret a rule that clearly damages the play environment, sabotages other people’s fun or is just plain nonsensical, don’t use the rule in that way.

In other words, don’t be a wanker.

I fully endorse taking style points from players who decide to be wankers. Of course, a warning is fair. Sometimes, we get caught up in the drama of the moment. Sometimes, our characters’ motivations seep into our own. Sometimes, those “imaginary” characters we play just get the better of us. I understand that. Hell, I’ve been on that end of things. But, we have to remember that what we’re doing is building a story, and sometimes, the hero doesn’t win. Sometimes, the hero loses.

But then, sometimes, the player is just a wanker.

We’ll talk more about this in the Player chapter. Until then, remember the wanker rule. It’s gonna show up again.

Finished writing. Then, I wondered if I needed this section in the book. Who would read it? Would they need to know it? Would they already know it?

Ah, the choices we make. Most players need it. I know that flies in the face of conventional wisdom, but I’ve played with lots of different groups and my opinion, drawn from my experience, is that most people need this advice. There’s a small number who don’t–you may be among them–but even if this rule doesn’t apply to you, or even your group, that doesn’t mean most players are like you.

Like I said above, I’ll talk more about this in the Player chapter. I’ll post that, too.