I like to say, “There are no bad ideas, only good ideas explained poorly.” In my experience, absolutely everybody has really awesome ideas for writing a book or coming up with their own cool game design. Often, there isn’t anything wrong with the cool ideas unless it’s that they haven’t been well thought out, well implemented, or attempted at all.
I believe the foundation of good writing and game design starts with hard work. Once you set pencil to paper, or keystroke to digital interface; you’re already 2 steps ahead of the competition. If you never attempt something, it’s impossible to succeed. If you ‘do’ attempt something, you’ll probably fail, but you’ll be that much closer to succeeding in the future.
I know for a fact that my writing and game designing has improved over the years. Whether it’s actually good, is a completely different question. Nevertheless, it’s a gratifying feeling to know that you’re making progress. Sometimes it just feels like you’re running around in circles, but looking back on projects from a few years ago will show you clear improvement; guaranteed. That is, if you’ve been working hard the whole while. It’s a cliché, but practice does make perfect—or at least, better.
Assuming that you’re in the trenches and working hard on your game designs, you’ll at some point have to share them with others: friends, family, editors, publishers, agents, etc. Some of these people might give you bad advice; more likely, they’ll give you awesome advice. One key element to making use of this advice is explaining things properly. If no one can understand your awesome idea for a game, it’s really hard for them to help you with the creative process or offer relevant solutions to the problems you face. If ‘you’ can’t even understand what your game design is about, you might want to take a very serious second look at the project and figure it out before sharing it with others.
In 99% of the cases I’ve seen, game designers have a firm grasp of what they’re doing. They know their objective, they know how they want to achieve it, and they understand their awesome ideas better than anyone on the planet. It only makes sense. If you wrote it, you’ll understand it best. Now the problem you face is getting your ideas across quickly and accurately to potential readers. Good writing is important here. Clear writing is more important. When any new reader can understand what you mean quickly, it’s a good sign. Going with the premise that all ideas are good, if you have a clear implementation of those ideas, people should love them.
This is something that’s much easier said than done. It’s impossible to explain your ideas in writing as clearly as you can face to face. That’s okay. Your job is to convey as much as possible of the ‘important’ stuff and leave the rest up to their imagination. One of the great strengths of writing and RPGs is that a large part of the awesomeness comes from the minds of the readers. Sometimes a vague rule only leaves the game wide open to creative tinkering, other times it can trash your game design.
Given that a little vagueness is okay, you’ll still want to be dead clear most of the time. I’ll often come across massive paragraphs in a game design that, in the end, convey nothing to the reader or give the wrong message. These long-winded sections are worse than useless. I frequently have to replace them with something short which makes sense.
Another thing most game designers are guilty of is assuming the reader knows what you’re talking about, or the opposite: assuming the reader is a complete novice in the subject and that you have to explain absolutely everything to them. I like to picture most readers as highly experienced professionals who are vaguely curious about a game design I’ve written. They might be looking for ideas, they might be looking for a laugh, they might have a tiny inkling they might like the game. My job is to clearly and quickly explain things to them upfront and personal. That way, neither of us is wasting much time. If they like the core ideas, they can keep reading into the little details and get a better grip on what I’m trying to do.
So what do we do to write clearly and to the point? That’s a massive subject covered by many creative writing handbooks. In this case, I’d like to just mention some universal and easy to apply solutions, and some things specific to RPGs themselves.
1. Abbreviations: It’s good to assume that your reader knows all the abbreviations you’re working with, but on the off chance he or she doesn’t; it’s always better to include them. If the reader loses 5 minutes worrying about what a single sentence means, you could sink your whole game design. It’s usually best to include all abbreviations you’ll be working with, even if it seems silly to do so.
2. Contents: It’s universally awesome to include a table of contents, especially in a long rule-book. Imagine trying to fix your car with a book without any index or table of contents. It would be incredibly annoying. It’s always nice to assume your book is so awesome the reader will read it cover to cover as soon as he buys it, but I find it’s best to give your potential buyers every opportunity to ‘not’ get confused by the layout of your book. Try to include at least core sections. Anything you can find in your book out of habit should be included here.
3. Appendixes: These are good to have, too. It could be lists of tables, various sections which might not be easy to find, multiple areas in the book about the same subject, key rules, or indices. What do you do when you find a book that’s completely confusing? You check the index, that’s what you do. A good glossary tells your reader that you care enough to spend 10 minutes to save them 1 minute of searching. That’s always a good thing. It builds confidence in your work.
4. Page Numbers: Have them. If you can tab or color code sections of your book, that’s even better. I once ordered a book from the library that was tabbed, indexed, color-coded, in a ring binder, sealed with plastic to protect the pages, and numbered sequentially in sections. It was pretty awesome.
5. Pictures: I used to think that pictures in a good book were pretty much useless and annoying. Man, was I wrong. Nine out of ten readers will tell you they like pictures in a book. They won’t even care what kind of book it is, they just like pictures. I know one person who doesn’t even care what’s in the rulebook and will just check out the pictures to figure out if she likes the book or not. Not only are cool pictures good for your book, they break up the text as well, which makes it easier on the eye. Appropriate pictures can also quickly explain hard-to-understand concepts. A diagram of a character sheet, numbered and annotated can be absolutely awesome for someone new to a game. I remember checking back to the sheet in the 3e Player’s Handbook again and again to fill out my character. It didn’t seem like a big thing at the time, but it really helped. Tables of equipment, fancy lists of items and modifiers, and so many other things can be souped-up with a little artistic flare. Personally, I’m not big on the ‘look’ of a book. I like the content. However, having an awesome-looking book is always a good thing. Who knows? You might sell a dozen to people who just liked the pictures.
6. Font, Paragraphs, Columns, and Alignment: This is mostly a matter of personal choice and expertise. One thing I like to do is to look at my favorite game books. They often have huge design budgets and the layout is usually top notch. You can see how they justify text, what size of font they use, what font they use, how many columns they use, what they do with widows and orphans, how the TOC (Table of Contents) is laid out, what form the paragraphs take, and more. It’s something that most people just ignore, but you can learn a lot from well-laid out books if you take the time. Personally, I couldn’t be bothered much with this stuff. If you can read it, and it looks okay, I’m happy. If I had the artistic skills to make all my works look like they were produced by major companies, I could probably get a job in design and layout. It’s still something good to consider. Occasionally, compare the ‘look’ and formatting of your book to industry standards. Sometimes you’ll find something really simple you can change to improve your book.
7. What’s Different?: This one applies to RPGs specifically. I always like to figure out what’s different in my game design and then bring it to the forefront. Most RPGs will have lists of monsters, magic items, weapons, equipment, spells, and so forth. It’s cool to explain all those things in great detail, but if you have an experienced professional reading your game design, what do they immediately want to know? More than likely, they want to know the major differences between your book and what’s already out there. If your new game design is so bizarre and different that everything is new, that’s fantastic. You’ll also have the hard job of explaining absolutely everything in your book. More than likely, most of what you’ve written will have been done before. That’s not to say that’s a bad thing; we learn by imitation. You’ll also probably have a few things you’ve done differently. You know what those things are, but does the reader? Two things I’ve been guilty of are 1: not explaining a complex and fundamental change I’ve dropped into the game, and 2: not explaining something simple I do which I figure everyone else does as well. For example: I once created a game system where the GM couldn’t roll any dice, period. It was a major change and, originally, I’m not sure I addressed all the questions it brought up. Secondly, I put in a load of skills and just assumed the GM would make up appropriate TNs for actions. Once I added in ‘example’ TNs, it just made sense that they should be in the book.
8. Brevity: RPGs are now competing with the digital market place. What a computer game can calculate in a few seconds might take you three hours to explain. Yes, I know they’re completely different mediums. My point is that you have to remember that the reader’s time is a limited and valuable commodity. If they have to read 100 pages to fully understand the basics of your game system, it had better be pretty awesome. If you can explain your core principals and setting in under 5 pages, then I wouldn’t really mind if you included 300 more fleshing them out. Once you have me ‘sold’ on your ideas, I’m pretty much happy to read all the rest. Even people who hate your game design will silently thank you for being clear and to the point. It’s frustrating to read 300 pages only to discover that you actually love ‘or’ hate a game.
9. Clarity: You have to love the saying, “Be better.” How are we to be better? What do we have to do to accomplish that? Are you assuming we’re not already trying out hardest? Anyway, I’ve always found it pretty funny. When it comes to clarity in your writing, I’m not going to tell you to be better. I’m assuming you’re already doing your best, and improvement takes time. What I’m trying to say here is ‘not’ to be intentionally unclear. Sometimes, a little vagueness in the rules can be helpful. More often than not, it just confuses the reader. Gamers are incredibly creative and varied. No matter how clearly you write rules, they will change things. They need no help to do this. Writing your game design to encourage creativity is awesome. Being vague and hoping the reader will figure things out just tells them you don’t really know what you’re doing and you’re shoving the work onto their plate. Some really great game designs are built on the fact the players will be bringing more than half the game system to the table. I really like the ‘openness’ of this kind of design. However, if I wanted to make up 60% of a game design, I’d probably just make up a whole new game. It’s usually a good idea to assume that if someone is reading your game design they want a few rules.
In short, formatting and clarity is something you usually have to worry about at the later stages in your game design. Simply getting people to tell you what they find confusing in your book (preferably those who haven’t read it before) can give you more than enough information to work with. Readers will often have no trouble pointing out parts that didn’t make any sense to them. Try not to let it get you down—use it to improve. This way, your weaknesses are turned into strengths.
I believe the foundation of good writing and game design starts with hard work. Once you set pencil to paper, or keystroke to digital interface; you’re already 2 steps ahead of the competition. If you never attempt something, it’s impossible to succeed. If you ‘do’ attempt something, you’ll probably fail, but you’ll be that much closer to succeeding in the future.
I know for a fact that my writing and game designing has improved over the years. Whether it’s actually good, is a completely different question. Nevertheless, it’s a gratifying feeling to know that you’re making progress. Sometimes it just feels like you’re running around in circles, but looking back on projects from a few years ago will show you clear improvement; guaranteed. That is, if you’ve been working hard the whole while. It’s a cliché, but practice does make perfect—or at least, better.
Assuming that you’re in the trenches and working hard on your game designs, you’ll at some point have to share them with others: friends, family, editors, publishers, agents, etc. Some of these people might give you bad advice; more likely, they’ll give you awesome advice. One key element to making use of this advice is explaining things properly. If no one can understand your awesome idea for a game, it’s really hard for them to help you with the creative process or offer relevant solutions to the problems you face. If ‘you’ can’t even understand what your game design is about, you might want to take a very serious second look at the project and figure it out before sharing it with others.
In 99% of the cases I’ve seen, game designers have a firm grasp of what they’re doing. They know their objective, they know how they want to achieve it, and they understand their awesome ideas better than anyone on the planet. It only makes sense. If you wrote it, you’ll understand it best. Now the problem you face is getting your ideas across quickly and accurately to potential readers. Good writing is important here. Clear writing is more important. When any new reader can understand what you mean quickly, it’s a good sign. Going with the premise that all ideas are good, if you have a clear implementation of those ideas, people should love them.
This is something that’s much easier said than done. It’s impossible to explain your ideas in writing as clearly as you can face to face. That’s okay. Your job is to convey as much as possible of the ‘important’ stuff and leave the rest up to their imagination. One of the great strengths of writing and RPGs is that a large part of the awesomeness comes from the minds of the readers. Sometimes a vague rule only leaves the game wide open to creative tinkering, other times it can trash your game design.
Given that a little vagueness is okay, you’ll still want to be dead clear most of the time. I’ll often come across massive paragraphs in a game design that, in the end, convey nothing to the reader or give the wrong message. These long-winded sections are worse than useless. I frequently have to replace them with something short which makes sense.
Another thing most game designers are guilty of is assuming the reader knows what you’re talking about, or the opposite: assuming the reader is a complete novice in the subject and that you have to explain absolutely everything to them. I like to picture most readers as highly experienced professionals who are vaguely curious about a game design I’ve written. They might be looking for ideas, they might be looking for a laugh, they might have a tiny inkling they might like the game. My job is to clearly and quickly explain things to them upfront and personal. That way, neither of us is wasting much time. If they like the core ideas, they can keep reading into the little details and get a better grip on what I’m trying to do.
So what do we do to write clearly and to the point? That’s a massive subject covered by many creative writing handbooks. In this case, I’d like to just mention some universal and easy to apply solutions, and some things specific to RPGs themselves.
1. Abbreviations: It’s good to assume that your reader knows all the abbreviations you’re working with, but on the off chance he or she doesn’t; it’s always better to include them. If the reader loses 5 minutes worrying about what a single sentence means, you could sink your whole game design. It’s usually best to include all abbreviations you’ll be working with, even if it seems silly to do so.
2. Contents: It’s universally awesome to include a table of contents, especially in a long rule-book. Imagine trying to fix your car with a book without any index or table of contents. It would be incredibly annoying. It’s always nice to assume your book is so awesome the reader will read it cover to cover as soon as he buys it, but I find it’s best to give your potential buyers every opportunity to ‘not’ get confused by the layout of your book. Try to include at least core sections. Anything you can find in your book out of habit should be included here.
3. Appendixes: These are good to have, too. It could be lists of tables, various sections which might not be easy to find, multiple areas in the book about the same subject, key rules, or indices. What do you do when you find a book that’s completely confusing? You check the index, that’s what you do. A good glossary tells your reader that you care enough to spend 10 minutes to save them 1 minute of searching. That’s always a good thing. It builds confidence in your work.
4. Page Numbers: Have them. If you can tab or color code sections of your book, that’s even better. I once ordered a book from the library that was tabbed, indexed, color-coded, in a ring binder, sealed with plastic to protect the pages, and numbered sequentially in sections. It was pretty awesome.
5. Pictures: I used to think that pictures in a good book were pretty much useless and annoying. Man, was I wrong. Nine out of ten readers will tell you they like pictures in a book. They won’t even care what kind of book it is, they just like pictures. I know one person who doesn’t even care what’s in the rulebook and will just check out the pictures to figure out if she likes the book or not. Not only are cool pictures good for your book, they break up the text as well, which makes it easier on the eye. Appropriate pictures can also quickly explain hard-to-understand concepts. A diagram of a character sheet, numbered and annotated can be absolutely awesome for someone new to a game. I remember checking back to the sheet in the 3e Player’s Handbook again and again to fill out my character. It didn’t seem like a big thing at the time, but it really helped. Tables of equipment, fancy lists of items and modifiers, and so many other things can be souped-up with a little artistic flare. Personally, I’m not big on the ‘look’ of a book. I like the content. However, having an awesome-looking book is always a good thing. Who knows? You might sell a dozen to people who just liked the pictures.
6. Font, Paragraphs, Columns, and Alignment: This is mostly a matter of personal choice and expertise. One thing I like to do is to look at my favorite game books. They often have huge design budgets and the layout is usually top notch. You can see how they justify text, what size of font they use, what font they use, how many columns they use, what they do with widows and orphans, how the TOC (Table of Contents) is laid out, what form the paragraphs take, and more. It’s something that most people just ignore, but you can learn a lot from well-laid out books if you take the time. Personally, I couldn’t be bothered much with this stuff. If you can read it, and it looks okay, I’m happy. If I had the artistic skills to make all my works look like they were produced by major companies, I could probably get a job in design and layout. It’s still something good to consider. Occasionally, compare the ‘look’ and formatting of your book to industry standards. Sometimes you’ll find something really simple you can change to improve your book.
7. What’s Different?: This one applies to RPGs specifically. I always like to figure out what’s different in my game design and then bring it to the forefront. Most RPGs will have lists of monsters, magic items, weapons, equipment, spells, and so forth. It’s cool to explain all those things in great detail, but if you have an experienced professional reading your game design, what do they immediately want to know? More than likely, they want to know the major differences between your book and what’s already out there. If your new game design is so bizarre and different that everything is new, that’s fantastic. You’ll also have the hard job of explaining absolutely everything in your book. More than likely, most of what you’ve written will have been done before. That’s not to say that’s a bad thing; we learn by imitation. You’ll also probably have a few things you’ve done differently. You know what those things are, but does the reader? Two things I’ve been guilty of are 1: not explaining a complex and fundamental change I’ve dropped into the game, and 2: not explaining something simple I do which I figure everyone else does as well. For example: I once created a game system where the GM couldn’t roll any dice, period. It was a major change and, originally, I’m not sure I addressed all the questions it brought up. Secondly, I put in a load of skills and just assumed the GM would make up appropriate TNs for actions. Once I added in ‘example’ TNs, it just made sense that they should be in the book.
8. Brevity: RPGs are now competing with the digital market place. What a computer game can calculate in a few seconds might take you three hours to explain. Yes, I know they’re completely different mediums. My point is that you have to remember that the reader’s time is a limited and valuable commodity. If they have to read 100 pages to fully understand the basics of your game system, it had better be pretty awesome. If you can explain your core principals and setting in under 5 pages, then I wouldn’t really mind if you included 300 more fleshing them out. Once you have me ‘sold’ on your ideas, I’m pretty much happy to read all the rest. Even people who hate your game design will silently thank you for being clear and to the point. It’s frustrating to read 300 pages only to discover that you actually love ‘or’ hate a game.
9. Clarity: You have to love the saying, “Be better.” How are we to be better? What do we have to do to accomplish that? Are you assuming we’re not already trying out hardest? Anyway, I’ve always found it pretty funny. When it comes to clarity in your writing, I’m not going to tell you to be better. I’m assuming you’re already doing your best, and improvement takes time. What I’m trying to say here is ‘not’ to be intentionally unclear. Sometimes, a little vagueness in the rules can be helpful. More often than not, it just confuses the reader. Gamers are incredibly creative and varied. No matter how clearly you write rules, they will change things. They need no help to do this. Writing your game design to encourage creativity is awesome. Being vague and hoping the reader will figure things out just tells them you don’t really know what you’re doing and you’re shoving the work onto their plate. Some really great game designs are built on the fact the players will be bringing more than half the game system to the table. I really like the ‘openness’ of this kind of design. However, if I wanted to make up 60% of a game design, I’d probably just make up a whole new game. It’s usually a good idea to assume that if someone is reading your game design they want a few rules.
In short, formatting and clarity is something you usually have to worry about at the later stages in your game design. Simply getting people to tell you what they find confusing in your book (preferably those who haven’t read it before) can give you more than enough information to work with. Readers will often have no trouble pointing out parts that didn’t make any sense to them. Try not to let it get you down—use it to improve. This way, your weaknesses are turned into strengths.
