This morning, after I dropped off my son at daycare and grabbed a coffee, I had some time to kill before the day truly began. I flipped through podcasts I had yet to finish and landed on one that always manages to be my rainy-day, comfort listen:
It’s called the Hall of Blue Illumination and it’s about M.A.R. Barker’s Tékumel.
A few words about that:
M.A.R. Barker was a nazi apologist at best and a full-blown nazi at worst. He wrote a neo-nazi novel in 1991 under a pseudonym and is believed to have sat on the editorial board for a holocaust denial journal for a decade (or more).
Not that this is anywhere even close to the above bullet, but James Maliszewski (one of the hosts of the podcast and of GROGNARDIA fame) is a bit of a polarizing figure in that his crowdfunding campaign’s fulfillment troubles a decade or so ago ruffled quite a few feathers.
I know next to nothing of the other host, Victor Raymond, beyond that he’s played in Tékumel for functionally his entire life. He seems like a cool dude.
I say all this not to necessarily throw anybody under the bus, but rather to shamelessly defend myself. I’ve never played Tékumel, nor do I plan to buy any Tékumel books (though, to my understanding, proceeds from the Tékumel Foundation now go to a Jewish charity). Even beyond that, a lot of the time, the podcast is very dry, circuitous, and a bit boring.
So why do I listen to it?
It's about the ritual—the process of performing a routine or mundane task that leads to something magical. This is why there's a whole culture around making coffee: the ritual of crafting the perfect cup is the true experience, not necessarily the coffee itself. It's also why the first few turns or sessions of a game are often the most enjoyable for many people; starting something new is a ritual in its own right. The Civilization video game series captures this perfectly, giving rise to the phrase, "just one more turn."
I listen to the Hall of Blue Illumination because in the process of listening to the hosts pontificate on something I know next to nothing about, I can feel myself on the path towards something fantastic.
Many game designers talk about the “core gameplay loop”, or the mechanic that every other mechanic in the game orbits around. For DND, this is the DM describing the scenario, the players telling the DM what they want to do, and the DM adjudicating how that plays out. Then you do it all over again (hence the term ‘loop’). This is the ritual of play—the structure beneath the fun.
Ritual is the backbone of your habits, your desires, and your enjoyment. I’d wager that the excitement at trying something new is partially the novelty of it being new, but largely more about discovering the ritual behind the new. Taking a pottery class despite never sitting at a throwing wheel isn’t about making a cool vase (otherwise, you could just buy one for much cheaper)—it’s about learning what goes into making a cool vase so that, assumedly, you can understand its underlying function better.
A while back I suggested that you should Work on What You Love and then, a little later, I discussed how I want to be Making Bigger, Better. Both these posts dance around the subject of ritual and I think despite not using that word or language, the principle of ritual was there.
So how do we invoke it in our work? What can we do to make sure we’re capturing the fire that drew us to the work in the first place? A few ideas:
Create a writing ritual. Likely you already have this in place, but if not, set 15-30 minutes aside before writing to clean your space, make some coffee or tea, read some other blogs, post a few notes, or whatever you enjoy that you think will help get the juices flowing.
Work on something small, quickly. If you’ve been making games for a while, you probably have a hundred or so backburner ideas in your notes, drafts, etc. Take a bit of time to pull one out, reread it, and iterate on it a little more. You don’t need to finish it, nor do you need to dedicate a ton of time to it—this is all about engaging with the process rather than having something “done”.
Try rapid prototyping. Instead of agonizing at your rules trying to perfectly capture what you want the game to accomplish, get something in there that’s functional. Then, immediately afterward, play that by yourself (or with a chronically available friend) and see how it feels. Take some notes and go back to the drawing board.
Break down your core gameplay loop. Try to find the main component of your game and find a way to explain it in less than 10 seconds. This is your pitch, or your ritual you’re promising to potential players.
Short one this week! But I want to leave you with this:
Q: What are some of your favorite rituals you perform in and out of gaming?
Share your thoughts in the comments below and let’s chat.∎
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This is perhaps less a ritual, and more a Pavlovian trigger, but I love assembling a music playlist that I listen to while working on projects. After a few work sessions, that music becomes a trigger that immediately puts me in the headspace for work.
Late to the game here. I used to have a daily ritual, which I very much preferred. Life has not allowed me for the last few years to have that high-level of consistency. Now I have a somewhat weekly ritual. I'm grateful for any structure that helps me stay afloat amidst all that life currently requires of me. If anything, this "new" way of life has allowed me to grow more patient and flexible, so I won't complain since growth has occurred.