[Wow. Tough to figure out what blog to post this on. I think it goes here by virtue of the GNS reference that I don’t want to have to re-explain anywhere else.]
Thread on the forge about how literature refuses gaming, precipitated from a comment from a published writer about how he’s consciously worked to keep his books from being viable settings for roleplay.
The conversation gets on track after a bit, and there’s a few snippets of conversation in which folks basically say “well, authors are essentially focused on story as the raison d’etre, while most traditional games focus on ‘what would it be like to live in this place in this way’, so I can see where that would not appeal to them.”
Then someone points out that a narrativist-style game like My Life with Master might be the sort of game that’s more in line with the storytelling agenda of an author.
This is an interesting bit:
I’d say the only significant difference (other than the medium of the output) in the process of the writer and the Narrativist roleplayer is that the writer is roleplaying Solataire while the roleplayer is relying on the collective input of the other players. The same awareness of how a characters words and actions ripple throughout the setting and effect other characters is required. And the same judgement as to whether any particular set of ripples is desireable or not is required. Both the writer and the narrativist player will have a character perform an action in large part because of the statement made.
Narr player vs. writer = group effort vs. solitaire versions of the same effort. Hmm. I consider myself a Narr player (at least part of the time — actually, a Narr GM and a Gamist player, maybe), so in a sense I’m used to the idea of creating a story about … whatever… with a lot of creative input from other people.
“Straight” writers tend to not do that during their initial process — that’s what editors and second-draft readers are for.
It occurs to me that this might be why I’m much more comfortable with someone reading my stuff as soon as I finish typing it, while I’ve already moved forward to the next couple pages. As I understand it from other folks who write (established professionals or people who aren’t yet but will be), this sort of interaction would drive them bat-shit crazy.
Doesn’t bother me. I think that’s a good thing. Not ‘better’, per se, just good.