You’ve got stories. You’ve got games. And in that sweet spot where the two overlap is where you’ll find me playing with model spaceships and plastic dinosaurs, making “pewpewpew” noises with my mouth, and carving out a niche creating awesome storyworlds.
My current such project is Karthador, the pulp science-fantasy roleplaying game I’m developing for Reality Blurs. While mashing story and game together, I came up with a fun, exciting element I wanted to include in the world. The problem was, as soon as I dug into the game mechanics of this thing, I started opening cans of worms like a coked-up cyborg with can-openers for hands, and found myself drowning in worms. Oh, they were mechanical worms — composed of skills, dice, and tiered arcane edges — but still. Drowning. In worms.
One rule I try to follow in both stories and game is “keep it clean.”
In a short story, every word counts. No waste. No extra sentences. Every element must work together and have a purpose. If it’s not pulling its weight, it gets cut. Do we really need a paragraph describing the old stone tower? If it’s not an important landmark, no. Just note that it’s “crumbling” and move on.
Likewise, a solid game design should use no more mechanics than necessary to achieve the desired effect, whether mechanical or aesthetic. Do we really need to bid our secondary resources in a blind auction to determine who goes first? If it’s not important who goes first, no. Just roll a die for it and move on.
Once I realized the mechanics just weren’t working, I took a step back and asked myself some questions:
What is the purpose of this element? “The purpose,” I answered myself, ignoring the odd looks from my wife, “is to provide story hooks for the players and plot devices for the GM.”
Can it achieve this purpose without game mechanics attached to it? “Well… Yeah, I guess so. It can still be a cool story thing without having its own system.”
Then cut the mechanic, but leave the element. “Hey, that’s not a question.”
Umm… Shut up. “No. You shut up.”
…and that’s why I don’t often participate in these external Socratic dialogs.
We’ve all heard of “killing our darlings” in fiction. Well, it’s true in game design too. Sometimes, the game sub-system you love the most is actually a worm, and you got to squash that thing before it drowns you.
Keep it clean. Your players may thank you for it.
