#what I struggle most with when I write is transitioning between narration/description and dialogue

[jorvikzelda]

Hm. Why have I not considered writing my novel drafts in screenplay-ish format before.

[magicsilas]

The Witch King By H.E Edgmon

Wyatt, a fugitive witch from an oppressive fae kingdom tries to free himself from his crimes and fiancee. Those plans are ruined when the heir to the throne, Prince Emyr and Wyatt’s fiance comes to force him to return. It is this course of events that sparks Wyatt’s plan to escape the kingdom. This is a book that talks about corruption, broken systems and systemic oppression.

(C) I enjoyed the characters presented. Wyatt and Emyr had strong personalities and were clearly fleshed out with likes and dislikes. I like the way they were able to blend together. I enjoyed the side relationships, especially Wyatt with his sister. The side characters also had decent voices. There were times where they seemed to be jerked by the plot, but overall their intentions were their own. I did not like what they did to Briar at the end of the book. It seemed like she and Wyatt were truly best friends, equal and both loving of each other. That is until she confessed that she felt like she had to bend to be what he needed. That destroyed their friendship in my eyes and made everything they seemed to have together be false. (A) I enjoyed the world building, it was real and immersive. The way the magic worked made sense in my opinion. I was able to picture most of everything that was being described, mostly I did struggle with the description of rooms and buildings. But I do not feel as if that was the most important thing when it came to setting. The energy in scenes were highly believable, the energy was there and it could be felt. (W) I liked the writing style. Wyatt’s voice was fun and witty. I feel like he was a great character, because this story told by anyone else would not have been the same. There was a good balance between dialogue and narration in my opinion. The train of thoughts were easy to follow, there was hardly any moment as to which I was lost by the writing. Unfortunately I have a bad habit of skimming while I read so the times I was lost, that was on me.It never felt stuck or like there was an odd transition. I personally hate leaving the series unfinished so I do know I will be completing this series but even if it weren’t for that, I enjoyed the writing style so I do think I would read something written by this author again. (P) There were a lot of subplots, the corrupt system, the romance plot, the betraying the crown plot and a few more I am sure went over my head. I am not the most analytical reader out there. It was one of the first fae books I have read so the mated plot was a first one for me. I think it would have gone deeper in the world building. I believe that would have made the plot much more exciting, especially when it came to the Fae left in the other world. The plot twist at the end was a decent one, there were a lot of bread crumbs left behind to point at it. (I) I was interested in the book around the time it came out but barely had the time to read it. I liked the idea of it being a new world. It was a pleasant read, there was not a time while reading it that I wish I had done something else. It is my first fae novel and I am very interested to pick up more books on this type of fantasy. I was really excited to see the way the characters bonded and developed together. I wholeheartedly wish there was a bigger discussion on Fae culture and/or biology, since it is one of my favorite things when it comes to fantasy. (L) The series made sense, except in the way that the Guard seemed to have more power than the crown. It was a weird way to set it up, it was poorly explained that they do not have more power but just follow the rules. Sometimes the rules of the magic seemed to be off but I personally attribute that to me not paying that much attention to the story. At the end, it did seem like Wyatt was acting out of character, but I wasn’t sure if he really was or if he just grew with the story. I do feel like there was a lot of this world that was underdeveloped. (E) I really enjoyed the book! It was sad, funny and witty, the relationships felt real, the system of oppression was realistic and could be related to. As well as the betrayal felt by Wyatt. I liked the way he and Tessa were real, I liked the book and overall enjoyed it a lot. I can’t wait to see what the story comes to in the second book.

[doedipus]

Seasick Off the Sword Coast

The campaign went on hiatus for a couple weeks over the summer, and I’ll admit, I got restless pretty quick. I ended up writing a couple of... short stories? scenes? vignettes? based on events in the campaign to keep myself busy. This one takes place during the sea voyage from Athkatla to Waterdeep.

This was written a while after the session where Coy transitioned, however, at the time in the campaign neither the players or their characters knew what was up. I decided to use female pronouns for her in the narration, because I’d feel awful for knowingly misgendering someone (yes, even a fictional character, shut up :P), but the characters still see her as a dude and refer to her as such.

Anyway, I’m posting this because it might give readers a better grasp on the characters than simple greentext-style notes would. As usual, content under the break.

Constanza had never been to sea before, and after the last week, she never wanted to go to sea ever again. The gentle rocking of river boats and ferries she’d ridden before were nothing compared to the interminable and often violent undulation of the open ocean. She’d been plagued by terrible seasickness through the whole voyage. Behind her illusion, her usually rust-hued skin had taken a turn for the green, and she was having trouble keeping her meals down. While the rest of her companions had long since found their sea legs, Constanza still struggled to keep her balance. During the brief calm moments, she was filled with deep pangs of inferiority. She kept to herself, and barely left her cabin.

These sorts of moods were hardly uncommon for her. Growing up, her sister Lou was always by her side when Constanza needed her, and would always have a corny joke or amusing story that could take the edge off for a time. Since she’d left, it had become harder and harder to push past the voices telling her that she was less than or unworthy of their respect. Nowadays, she tried to focus herself on her faith, praying at a makeshift altar, or trying to parse the hefty tome her superiors had left her with. Self-help was a pillar of the church’s outreach, and sometimes they had the right ideas. It certainly offered many distractions she could focus on instead.

This morning, she was meditating on the story of Saint Fripp of Neverwinter. Fripp had been an acolyte of The Late Allfather Emerson the Immortal during the early days of the church, when Ascension was something that was still a serious area of study among the church elites. The ultimate goal of the church had always been to reach a state of open dialogue between them and the Great Ones, for knowledge and power, but they had never succeeded in the way they wanted. Emerson once saw a vision of a humanoid metamorphosing into a Great One, a process that came to be known as Ascension. His description of the process seemed incomprehensible and gruesome, but he and his followers were willing to sacrifice anything to be closer to their god.

Saint Fripp was born without eyes, but Emerson granted her true vision. Her eyes lay on the inside, and her insight earned her a permanent place at Emerson’s side. When Emerson received the Revelation of Ascension, she was first to volunteer to corrupt her very being in the name of progress. Early on, much progress was made, and though her veins became hardened from the injections, and her left arm quickly became necrotic and unceremoniously slid off in the night, she made amazing leaps and bounds in her mind, receiving vivid messages from the beyond at a frightening frequency, and the new arm that emerged from the socket had almost as many digits and also a nice tan.

As the procedures continued, though, she began to experience difficulty focusing on the world around her, and took to wearing a tall brass cage over her head to keep herself inside until she was ready to make a final leap. On the two hundred fifty-fifth day of treatment, she was found unresponsive in her quarters. The pair of aids responsible for her care quickly fetched father Emerson. When they returned, her body was bloated, barely even recognizable as herself, and something was moving underneath the surface of her skin.

Emerson suddenly grasped his head, screeching in pain. A vision had struck him! He was consumed by the smell of fresh blood and raw meat, surrounded on all sides by what felt like flesh, tightly pressed against his body, suffocating him. His only instinct was to dig. And dig. And dig. He frantically clawed at the moist tissue for what felt to him like hours, until he hit a smooth brass wall. He turned, and dug in another direction, before coming to another wall. His prison of meat was itself completely encased in brass. The walls closed in on him, and as they began to crush his body, he violently snapped back to reality.

“The cage!” he yelled at his companions, “We need to get that blasted cage off her!”

The three rushed to the side of the bed and tried desperately to remove the heavy metal apparatus, but the corpse of their dear friend had expanded in such a way that this task became difficult. They tugged with all their strength, but it would not budge. One of the aids suggested sawing off her head to remove the cage, but Emerson shot him a glare that could melt adamantine. The struggle continued for an hour, until with a final exertion, the cage popped off, sending an aid reeling.

When they had caught their breath, they noticed that the writhing in the body had ceased. A great cascade of blood and viscera suddenly burst forth from what was left of Saint Fripp’s nether regions. Among the carnage lay the remains of a squid-like creature, about the size of a forearm, with seven tentacles, and a transparent mantle. Inside the mantle was a multitude of eyes, with a wide range of iris colors and pupil geometries. Human eyes, elven eyes, orcish eyes, and though they weren’t mentioned in the holy texts, Constanza liked to think that there were tiefling eyes in the Stillborn Mantle as well. Good media representation was so hard to come by these days.

The story was sometimes brought up as a cautionary tale about exploring unknown aspects of church doctrine, but Constanza thought that though Fripp had died, her exceptionalism had taken her from a nameless beggar on the streets to a life dedicated to knowledge and adventure, recorded forever within the sacred texts. She hoped she could one day make a similar contribution, but for now, she could only stare intently at the puke bucket beside her bed, and try to hold in her half-digested dinner.

A knock on the door to her cabin nearly broke her concentration. The door creaked open, and Greg poked his head through the crack.

“Connie, we’re all going up to eat breakfast, are you coming?”

“Ask her if she wants us to just bring her something down here,” Lucas mumbled from behind the door.

Part of her wanted to take him up on that offer, but the rest of her was determined to look tough at all times.

“N-no, that’s okay. I’ll-” She heaved a bit as a swell passed under the ship. “Ughk... I’ll be up in a minute.”

Lucas peered around his boyfriend. “Are you sure? It’s really no problem for us, or anythi-”

“I’m fine. Really.” Constanza cut him off before he could finish.

“Okay then. Uh, see you in a few, then, I guess...” Lucas looked a bit hurt as he rounded the corner and went up the stairs. Greg followed after him, hand-in-hand.

    Constanza returned to her morning ritual, finished the Tuesday set of prayers, and prepared to reapply the brand of binding to her left shoulder. Left arms held a special significance in the church ever since Saint Fripp’s sacrifice, and were believed to be the most blessed limb. As such, all casting was done through that arm, and the limb could easily fill to burst with arcane fallout. The brand allowed some of the energy to filter out into the ether. After the skirmish in Amswater, Constanza suspected that it was the only thing keeping her arm attached anymore. Other initiates often complained about the pain of applying the brand, and were reluctant to use any spells at all, in case they had to reapply it later. Other initiates were also usually not tieflings, and Constanza barely felt a thing as she pressed the red-hot iron firmly against her skin, counted to twenty-three at a reasonable pace, and then quickly plunged the iron into a nearby bucket of seawater to cool it off. A rush of pins and needles shot down her arm as circulation returned. She flexed her grip a few times to test the strength in her hand.

    Having completed her morning rituals, she laboriously hoisted herself upright, pausing briefly as blood rushed to her head. She briefly checked herself out in a mirror to make sure that her illusory avatar was working correctly, blinking a few times, and trying out a variety of facial expressions. Satisfied, she wobbled out the door, and onto the deck.

    Her eyes stung as they slowly adjusted to the morning sunlight. She pulled her coat tight against her body to protect herself from the frigid marine air. Squinting, shivering, and utterly unsteady, she hurriedly made her way to the cabin where her companions were gathered.

    Most of the floor space in the main room of the cabin was taken up by a long wooden table with benches on either side. Most of the gang was still in their rooms, it seemed, and the only people at the table were Greg and Lucas. Constanza waved awkwardly to the pair as she entered. They both waved back. She started towards the pantry.

    Lucas called after her. “Hey, Constanza, Coy’s passed out in the pantry. Can you do your thing again and wake him up?”

    The pantry was a large closet off the main room. The shelves on the walls were full of jars of preserves and honey, and bottles of brightly colored potions and exotic booze. A chest lay in the corner that stored cuts of dried and cured meat, wrapped in sheets of thin paper. In another corner, a cabinet stored cutlery and cups. Hanging from the ceiling above the chest was a hollowed out bovine carcass held in gentle repose. Its insides were stocked with bread, vegetables, cheeses, and other perishable produce, kept fresh by the enchantment. The sight was more than a little macabre.

    Taking up much of the floor was Coy the titanic dragonborn, curled up in a ball, with Akim slumped over her. A handful of empty bottles were scattered on the floor around them, and they appeared to be deep in slumber. A small puddle of noxious drool seeped from the dragonborn’s mouth, and had begun to corrode the floor a bit.

    Constanza gingerly shook Akim awake. Ages ago, a popular church had spread propaganda about tieflings being sexual predators by nature, and a non-negligible portion of the population still sincerely believed them. So, she tried her best to avoid interacting with children in public, lest she be accused of trying something unspeakable. Even though she knew that Coy was perfectly fine with her being around Akim, it still made her uncomfortable. The boy yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

    She tried to wake Coy in the same manner, but she remained dead to the world. It’s not like that had worked any of the previous times, either, but it was worth a shot. Constanza felt down deep inside her being for her natural mana reserves, and concentrated as hard as she could. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead of words, a loud BOOOONNNNG filled the room. Akim apparently thought this was the funniest thing ever, and began giggling uncontrollably. The feathers on Coy’s head and neck stood on end, and her reptilian eyes snapped open. She sat up and looked around the room, obviously dismayed about something. Akim hugged her, and her expression grew a bit less severe.

    “We’re, um, about to eat breakfast,” Constanza explained.

Coy stared off into space for a moment.

    “Do you mind moving? I can’t reach the cow from here.”

    No answer.

    “Coy? Are you okay?”

    “Hm? Yes! Yes, is fine!” Coy shook her head a bit and stood up, towering over her companion and the child, and hit her head on the ceiling with a dull THUNK.

    “Cyka blyat!” She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, and glanced down at Akim nervously. Akim mimicked her action before continuing to giggle. Holding hands with Akim, she ducked out of the pantry and took a seat at the table. Constanza pulled a mostly-whole loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese from the cow’s empty chest cavity, and a knife from the cabinet, and joined them.

    A few others had filtered into the mess hall in the meantime. Rolen had taken a seat opposite Lucas, and the two glared wordlessly at each other, while Greg tried to avoid eye contact with either of them. Escrima had decided to sit on the other side of Greg, adding to his obvious discomfort. Escrima fidgeted a bit and mumbled something under his breath about “antipodes.” Constanza took her place at the table, sliced off a bit of bread and cheese, and passed the food and knife down the table. She ate quietly, mostly just trying to keep her mind off the nausea.

    After a time, the door of the cabin slammed open, and Graham strode in with a big, goofy grin plastered across his face. He shouted, triumphantly, “Lady Catarina! I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss! Please accompany me below decks posthaste!”

    The outburst caught Constanza by surprise, and she stared blankly back at Graham for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

    “Come on, Connie, I found something amazing in the hold!” Graham had a hard time maintaining his facade of dignity through his excitement.

    Constanza hoisted herself off the bench, took a moment to balance herself, and wobbled outside after Graham.

    “It’s an amazing find, my lady.” Graham assured her as they crossed the deck, “It even has all the pieces, too! Top condition!”

    “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Graham. What exactly did you find?”

    “Just wait and see!”

    The pair descended the stairs to the lower levels of the ship, and stopped outside the door to Graham’s room. He opened the door with a flourish, and indicated towards the cot in the center of the room. On the cot was a dragonchess board made of polished walnut, each plane stained the appropriate color. The full set of pieces was laid out on the board, ready to play.

    “Wow, Graham, where’d you find this?” Constanza was in awe. “It’s a beauty!”

    “It was in a chest down in the hold. We found it when we were looking for a place to put Coy’s diamond last night, and I thought ‘My, I bet Lady Catarina would love to hear about this!’” A pause. “Would my lady be willing oblige a request for a rematch?”

    “Any time, Graham,” she replied, “Maybe it’ll help distract from this awful seasickness.”

    “Splendid!” Graham walked over to the chest in the corner of the room and rummaged around inside. After a moment, he resurfaced holding a hefty tome, and waved it about triumphantly. “This time, I have a secret weapon!” Constanza caught a glimpse of the cover. Beginner’s Dragonchess Manual, Condensed Edition. “I got this while we were back in Amn,” He explained, “With its help, I wager I can at least put up quite a fight.”

    She giggled. “I don’t know, Graham. After the last game, I’m surprised you can even manage to fasten the clasps on your armor.” The room the two had shared at the Styx Oarsman had been equipped with a board. The first night the gang spent in that alien world had been terrifying and isolating. She and Graham found themselves unable to sleep, and looked for anything to keep their minds off their predicament. Constanza had attempted to teach Graham how to play, but... The man just wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing.

    That night had been a strange one. Constanza hadn’t had much time to socialize with her companions before then, and just assumed that Ser Graham Broyer, Paladin would have no qualms about “exorcising” her if she ever gave him the flimsiest casus belli. Yet, when it was decided that he would room with her in The Cage, he didn’t put up a fight. He spoke to her with a genuine kindness, the same as he did to anyone else. He made her feel like any other person, which few felt inclined to do. Even many of those who could act with civility towards her and other tieflings in public would pitch a fit about sharing a room. Graham was a welcome change of pace.

    They set about playing. Graham was certainly performing better than he did back in Sigil, though Constanza suspected that the rocking of the ocean was playing a large role. The game progressed at a glacial pace, with Graham stopping each turn to consult the manual for advice. His brow would furrow, and his eyes narrow as he spent all his mental energy reading and turning the pages. She found it rather charming. By the end of the game, Graham had captured a sizeable chunk of her pieces before he had gotten most of his own stuck in a corner, making for easy containment.

The second game progressed similarly, as did the third. At one point, Lucas brought them down some food, but hours had passed since then, and the bread and preserves sat on the desk largely untouched. During the fourth game, Graham went completely silent, and seemed about to lose his composure.

“Graham, are you okay?”

Silence.

“Do you want to stop for today, maybe pick the game up tomorrow?”

He sighed heavily. “...Yes, that might be best. I’m sorry, my lady, I can’t imagine this has been any fun for you, either.”

“Quite the contrary! I’m just glad to have a sparring partner again.” But you’re no Lou, she added in her mind. She and her sister had spent many a winter inside their wagon playing until it became too dark for Lou to see. Once Constanza got a handle on her thaumaturgy, the two barely slept at all. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it soon enough, Graham. Just try not to be so hard on yourself in the meantime.”

“Thank you, Lady Catarina.” He paused, apparently deep in thought. “You know... you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself either. Sometimes I can hear the things you say at night when you’re praying, and I feel awful. You deserve to treat yourself much better, my lady.”

“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” she replied. She felt a lump in her throat as Graham’s words brought to the surface thoughts and emotions she preferred to keep bottled up. “I’m a monster, Graham. I’m no different from those orcs we slaughtered, or the minotaurs, or the naga. I don’t deserve shit! I wake up in the morning and wonder why you all haven’t come to your senses and just taken that hammer of yours and- and-” The tears came before she could finish her thought. She slumped over the bed, head in her hands, and sobbed.

Graham reached over the cot and grabbed her by the shoulders. She felt a pleasant tingling on her skin where the holy man placed his hands. “I mean it, Constanza! You’re a valuable addition to the party. Not a day goes by that I don’t thank the heavens that we ran into you in that tavern. I know the others feel the same way. When you lock yourself away in your quarters all day, we all miss you and worry about you. You don’t need to feel ashamed or hide behind that illusion of yours around us, okay? We can handle you, Constanza. We like having you around. I just wish you’d give us a chance.”

Constanza nodded weakly as Graham let go of her. She wanted to speak, to thank him and say so many other things, but she knew that if she opened her mouth, she’d just start bawling again. She tried very hard to regain her composure, with some success. She pulled her handkerchief out to clean her face off.

After a long silence, Graham cleared his throat. “You know, I think I might have another few turns left in me after all. What do you say we try and finish this match once and for all?”

She managed a more adamant nod in response.

“Splendid! Now, where were we...” He picked the manual off the floor and started flipping through it again.

The pair played through the afternoon and into the evening. She tried her best to give him advice, and Graham gradually became more confident in his moves. When the others called them up for dinner, Constanza felt more steady on her feet, and she realized that her nausea had lessened as well. The gang ate as hearty a meal as rations allowed, and spent the evening retelling tales of their exploits on the road before they’d met by lamplight, over glasses of mysterious beverages from the pantry. When Constanza went to sleep, she dreamed of dragonchess, and Graham, and snakes. Always snakes, slithering up and down her body, enveloping her in their firm, comforting embrace.

The next morning, she meditated and applied the brand, as usual. This time, though, she decided to drop her avatar. Maybe he was right. Maybe these people were different.

[kayawagner]

4 Ways to Make Your Game Better By Making It More Accessible

He ain’t heavy, he’s my clone. (Image Courtesy of Pixabay.com)

A couple of months ago, a friend sent me this great Lifehacker article about how using audio descriptions in streamed content can help teach the fine art of providing enough (but not too much) description as a GM. Audio descriptions, initially intended to make media more accessible, also have the delightful side-effect of creating a tool that has the potential to help everyone have a better time of it. This phenomenon, usually called the “Curb Cut Effect” refers to how making something more accessible for some people ultimately makes things better for everyone. It takes its name from those small ramps (or “cuts”) that you find on curbs near crosswalks. These were originally intended for those with wheelchairs or other mobility considerations to be able to get up on sidewalks without being hit by the nearest bus. However, if you’ve ever pushed a stroller, had to jump a curb with a shopping cart, or had the kind of Saturday night that leads to a greater-than-average number of stumbles (*cough*), you’ll have noticed that clever little piece of design is useful in a whole lot of ways.

Of course, the biggest benefit of accessibility is, and will always be, accessibility. More accessible games mean fewer people being shut out for reasons that have nothing to do with the games they want to play or run. Fewer people being shut out means more different perspectives on this hobby we all love. More perspectives means (and I cannot highlight this enough), more stuff for us to play with. We live in a world with D&D and Pathfinder and Blue Rose and Harlem Unbound and Monsterhearts and Bluebeard’s Bride and the Cortex System and the Pip System and the Cypher System and Dread and literally hundreds of other games full of unique and interesting stories and mechanics. No single person, no matter how brilliant or driven, could ever, ever come up with all of those things on their own. Making space for more people at our tables makes our tables better in every way we could imagine.

Which brings me to an important point. I don’t personally have any accessibility concerns. I’m lucky enough to be able to cruise through most situations without being made aware of my limitations. However, I have some friends who do have these considerations, and I try my best to listen to them. My life is immeasurably better for having those folks in my life and at my table when I’m lucky enough to play with them, but I’m not an authority on any of this.

Look: I’m a half-functional manchild, barely able to dress myself in the morning, and I’ve been doing that since at least high school.

 I’m not an expert on anything except how to eat fifty cent ramen for a week without dry heaving (the secret is butter and low expectations). 

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I’m not an expert on anything except how to eat fifty cent ramen for a week without dry heaving (the secret is butter and low expectations). I’m most especially not an authority on the experiences of the people at your table. If you have a player or a GM who requests accommodations that are different from or contradict anything I say here, listen to that player or GM. Everyone is an unparalleled expert in their own lives; listen to that expertise.

However, with all of that said, I can now climb down off of my soapbox and present to you 4 Ways to Make Your Game Better By Making It More Accessible.

Turn On Audio Descriptions When you Watch TV

Accessibility Functions: helping blind or visually impaired media audiences engage with media.

How it can make your game better: If you’re not used to it, the experience of listening to descriptions as they take place is jarring at first, but very rapidly the descriptions begin to recede into the background of your attention, and you begin unconsciously following along with the meter and language of that description. If you’re anything like me, you’ll find yourself moving faster and more evocatively in your descriptions almost immediately.

 Nothing will ever, ever make conversations between two NPCs anything but painfully awkward for everyone involved. Sorry. 

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Over time, it also becomes easier to tell how to smoothly transition between character dialogue and description. Though nothing will ever, ever make conversations between two NPCs anything but painfully awkward for everyone involved. Sorry.

Pay Attention to Space

Accessibility Functions: People with mobility concerns or mobility aids like canes need clear walkways and adequate space between tables, walls and chairs. Cluttered surroundings can lead to your friends struggling to move around in the space you’ve set up for them, or in extreme cases, not being able to participate at all.

How it can make your game better: Paying attention to how your space is laid out helps all of your players move in and out to grab snacks, quickly step away from the table without disrupting others, and, for an added bonus, helps make cleanup quicker and easier, too.

Take Breaks

Accessibility Functions: Players or GMs with joint, back, or muscular problems, attention issues, or some conditions like Crohn’s disease need to take breaks more frequently than players without those issues.

How it can make your game better: Getting into the habit of taking more frequent breaks (five minutes or so every hour or hour-and-a-half of gameplay) helps to keep your players fresh, and allows them to plan their next moves. It also takes the pressure off of you as a GM to keep the game running for long stretches of time. When setting the expectation for frequent breaks, it also helps maintain focus during other times, since everyone knows that there will be another break coming soon, and provides a convenient stopping point for a session.

Note that it’s critical to keep short breaks short—especially at first, it’s very easy to allow a five-minute break to stretch into a ten-minute or fifteen-minute break, but that can very rapidly turn into not getting to play at all. Having frequent breaks means everything that isn’t a break needs to stay on task.

Focus on Visual Aid Design

Accessibility Functions: Players and GMs with ADHD, dyslexia, and visual impairment sometimes struggle to read rules or handouts that are overly long or designed for those with sharper vision.

How it can make your game better: There are a few clear ways that paying closer attention to how your visual aids are designed can help you and your players enjoy your handouts more. Paying attention to this kind of thing is 25% graphic design, 50% writing, 30% putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, and 7% being terrible at arithmetic. But don’t let that intimidate you; if you’re thinking about this at all, you’re already light years ahead of many GMs.

 The harder something is to be used, the less likely it is that it actually will be used. And your stuff is there to be used, right? Right? 

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The harder something is to be used, the less likely it is that it actually will be used. And your stuff is there to be used, right? Right?

Keep handouts short and sweet. It’s tempting to add additional evocative language to your handouts. Don’t. That’s what your narration is for. More words means crowded text and longer sentences. Every second your players spend reading is a second they’re not listening or engaging the game. Most players should be able to take in everything (unless it’s a puzzle) at a glance. Your handouts are reminders, not instruction sheets. Speaking of:

Don’t rely on written rule instructions. I have a dyslexic friend who is one of the best players I know; I enjoy every game I’m in with him, and if he hadn’t told me, I never would have known he was dyslexic. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t impact his experience. Once, in a large con game, this player was handed over a dozen pages of densely-packed rules when he walked in to play. While the rules were e-mailed out before the game, predictably, almost none of the players read them. Anyone would have struggled to understand such complicated instructions in a compressed timeline, but for my friend, that wall of text erected a barrier it was completely impossible for him to get over in time to participate in the game. In that situation, the GM taking the time to boil down the essence of the rules to the players all at once would have gone a long way to making sure everyone could play. There are a lot of challenges out there, and not every player who has them will be comfortable telling every GM.

Remember that design matters. Use big, simple fonts. Usually, I try not to use anything smaller or more complicated than size 14 Calibri. Fancy fonts may look cool, and occasionally have a neat immersion effect, but use them sparingly and intentionally. There’s nothing wrong with using simple black text on a white background; odds are good your players won’t even notice. The real imagination is in the game, and other combinations run the risk of making it exhausting for your players to read.

 You’re not trying to create a logo here—you’re trying to create a tool to get your players more in the game. 

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You’re not trying to create a logo here—you’re trying to create a tool to get your players more in the game.

So what do you think? Do you do anything at your table to help make it easier for your players or GM to engage?

Resources:

Fans for Accessible Conventions (Facebook Group). A great group of folks with a wonderful perspective on the intersection of fandom and accessibility. I can’t recommend this group highly enough, and a couple of these suggestions came directly from this group.

Usabilablog’s Article on Design for Color Blindness. The same blog’s article on readability is also worth a look.

Interactive Design Foundation’s Usability for All While focused on web design (like much of what you’ll find on the web, unsurprisingly), has a great overview of how accessibility is broader than thinking about how someone with a given disability may interact with your stuff. Worth a read.

  4 Ways to Make Your Game Better By Making It More Accessible published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com