Taking time to play

If a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing slowly.
In the last few years TTRPGs have exploded in popularity and visibility but one game remains dominant. At the same time in the indie space the number of systems and adventures continues to balloon. There is now a marked difference between the pace at which games are released and the rate that most people can realistically even read them let alone play them1. Umberto Eco coined the term antilibrary2 to describe a collection of books which are owned but haven’t yet been read, this is similar to the Japanese term Tsundoko. Neither of these terms represent negative phenomena but in the context of game design they pose a particular problem; the development of praxis lags the development of theory expressed through conversation and design. In the TTRPG space this is exacerbated by the existence of the GM as a hyper-engaged subset of players who by necessity have to engage in elements of design work to fulfil their role.
I’m feeling this in my own design work where people in online communities discuss games I’ve not read and I get excited by the ideas. I’m seeing similar looking things more often on crowdfunding platforms as well3. Buying RPGs and conversing about them is extremely easy, reading them is harder and getting a group together to play them is harder still. The act of collecting is fine but it’s the resource of the collection that is necessary for good work not the pursuit of the next item. Since the launch of his Quinns Quest series Quentin Smith has operated with the baseline that he will GM a campaign of a game before he reviews it but this rigour is rare in the TTRPG space. I’ve observed in myself and others excitement about things which don’t arrive for, sometimes years, and designs which are built on the discussion of opinions about other games like simulacra. In some cases that is the perennial reaction against D&D’s stranglehold on attention or fixing perceived problems with other popular systems but at least these address specific concerns observed in play. The cycle of playing, hacking and original design is being skewed by the imbalance between purchasing, reading, and playing games which has been increasing in the last few years as crowdfunding makes producing published work easier. The ease with which engaged members of the TTRPG community can buy and discuss games compared to the difficulty and time consuming nature of arranging to playing them4 encourages designs in conversation with other conversations rather than other art. Designs without an underpinning of play tend to seem hollow to me. I don’t know how as a community TTRPG enjoyers address the imbalance, or even if others perceive it as a problem at all, but I feel a tendency to drift into a cycle of theorising which lacks foundation and I believe we have a duty to ground our opinions regardless of the size of our audience.
I don’t think this problem extends to readers and players of TTRPGs who do not have aspirations to design themselves to the same extent. Both Users of game systems as tools for creative expression and Players of games would do well to carefully grow their own collection. For myself I have attempted to cultivate a collection of games which support my own praxis by focusing on a combination of games I want to play and games that have a mechanical focus on something that I’m narratively interested in5 but even here the long timeframes of crowd funding and the collector’s urge skew my perception of the important. My intention is that each book contains something that I could use, and additionally that I actively engage with them to make them as useful as possible. I’m not for a second claiming I’m always successful in that or that there’s a problem with buying a book because it’s aesthetically appealing; quite the opposite. I wish to highlight the value of the antilibrary to collectors and players of games while acknowledging the vital importance of understanding why it is being developed. As my game designs shift to an underpinning of theory not praxis and my collection grows only for the sake of growth, I want to focus my creative energy on playing games and supporting my practice of play. I want to worry less about what games I’m missing out on because I’m personally missing out on all the games I already own while I look for the next one to add to their number, be that a design of my own or the next Quinns Quest review. I feel as thought I’m enjoying the idea of the hobby in the future tense, waiting for crowdfunding campaigns to deliver and planning the the next thing, building a collection of dreams and plans not actually doing things. As with almost everything else, I think the answer for me is to slow down and focus on what I’m trying to do right now not what I might want to do later.
The problem in TTRPGs is worse than other media because the play time and scheduling is on the whole a lot harder to manage. To read a book, watch a movie or play a video game all I need to do is throw my phone into the sea and just do it. TTRPGs need prep, scheduling, all sorts.↩
Umberto Eco, On Literature↩
I don’t want to suggest this is a statement aimed at any particular work or that comes from a particular observation.↩
Further exacerbated by the state of capitalism and many people’s desire to make money producing games.↩
Examples of this would be character motivation in The Burning Wheel or scene based storytelling in Trophy.↩