ConGame, the card game about running an SF convention, is ready for play testing. Drop me a line if you’ve got nothing better to do with your printer and 41 blank pages.
Hey, you gotta fill your time with something now that the current Hugo season is over…
No, I haven’t become a grifter, although I can see how you might think that from the title.
I’m between jobs at the moment – not for the first time- and I’ve learned two irrefutable facts from previous bouts of unemployment. 1) You can’t job-hunt every waking moment of the day 2) You need something to occupy yourself in between bouts of job-hunting-related activities so that you don’t dissolve into a tail-chasing nervous wreck.
I’ve a couple of creative projects on the mental stovetop right now: Fabric For Cosplayers and ConGame. FFC has reached the point where I need access to video production facilities and a small crew in order to move forward. I don’t have money to burn, obviously, so that means I’ve turned my attention to ConGame. Continue reading
I’m not an actor, never will be. That said, the notion of pre-performance rituals* enacted in order to get one into the right head-space to be on stage really interests me.
No, I’m not talking about never changing my socks or whatever it is that sportsball players do when things are going their way, but it’s not all that far removed, either.
I’ve talked about this a fair bit in my LARP Advice piece Preparing to Perform. The point is that you can’t just walk off onto the street and into Willy Loman. Athletes stretch and warm up before they hit the field, and so do actors. I have to remind myself that LARPers are not actors and that one shouldn’t overreach. That said, I don’t see any harm in trying to get oneself into the absolutely optimum space for playing a character consistently and convincingly.
What’s the point of having a humanity stat if no-one pays attention to it?
Recently, I played a darling of mine, Patricia – a low-humanity (Masquerade) Malkavian kindred with unsavory habits – at a local LARP. She happened to be chatting with some Toreador and, upon hearing that this high-status Toreador had been spoken to disrespectfully by another courtier, Trish offered – with all sincerity – to tear out the offender’s tongue.
The Toreador smiled – also with every sign of sincerity – and agreed that might be an option.
Looking back on the incident, I wish I’d asked that player to check their humanity score. Because, really, if you’re hearing that kind of shit and your humanity is above, oh, a four* the appropriate reaction should be either “God, no! What are you saying?” or uneasy laughter and a prompt change or subject.
I’ve played in a handful of online RPGs – generally run on a blog site or a combination of blog-site and chat-forum, and have had a variable time. One game kicked more ass than I can briefly describe, a couple were fun-enough for a couple of months. I started to think about running an online game of my own. There’d be no fuss of trying to get players to a physical location, the resources required, I already had.
I can do this, I told myself. How hard can it be?
You can see where this is going, right? Yep. Stinkeroos, every time I tried – and I tried several times. Looking back, I can see that I made the same mistakes each time. Continue reading
I’ve played and GM’d Vampire: the Masquerade LARPs for nearly 15 years* and one conclusion is inescapable: every Vampire chronicle is doomed to fail. Assuming a troupe meets once a month, it takes about two years for the game to collapse into a singularity of power-imbalance, player burnout and a GM who makes an emergency root canal seem like a ray of fucking sunshine in comparison.
This. Always. Happens.
Changing out the GMs can extend the life of a troupe, and, god help us, the frequent character churn encouraged by the setting is, in a way, a help. But Vampire LARPs never really work in the long run. Continue reading