This is absolutely the stumbling block. It's given such emphasis that these moves are the way the GM responds, so I want to do right by them, and therefore I am caught trying to make sure my honest/fiction-respecting reaction maps to one, while trying not to leave dead air in response to the players declarations as I feel each second ticking by. My instincts are probably better than I give them credit for, and I could retroactively find a way that my response does fulfill one of the GM moves.
However, there are times where a move is warranted by the rules, but there is no change that feels obviously warranted by the fiction, especially in response to a lack of action, and so I desperately scan the list for inspiration on how to respond, and it feels wildly artificial, and it takes even longer to come up with something, especially with the criticisms of failing the game ringing in my head. I do know that practice and just getting out and doing it would help build these muscles, but I also don't want to subject people to a poor experience, especially if it's one of their first.
As I write this, I think it might be that there's a bigger, or underlying, problem: I'm falling into that position in the first place by not crafting scenes that are full of appropriate danger/pressure which fundamentally demand a response and leave open opportunities for things like an unwelcome truth, approaching threat, etc.
<snip>
What I find counter-intuitive (and stressful) is the GM having to make the moves (that they are allowed to) with the frequency the book asks. As above, I probably overthink it.
Without knowing your experiences of PbtA beyond your posts, it seems to me that your thought (that I've reproduced just above the snip) is very plausible.
Compare the way two examples of play begin:
5e D&D (Basic PDF, p 2): DM - After passing through the craggy peaks, the road takes a sudden turn to the east and Castle Ravenloft towers before you. Crumbling towers of stone keep a silent watch over the approach. They look like abandoned guardhouses. Beyond these, a wide chasm gapes, disappearing into the deep fog below. A lowered drawbridge spans the chasm, leading to an arched entrance to the castle courtyard. The chains of the drawbridge creak in the wind, their rust-eaten iron straining with the weight. From atop the high strong walls, stone gargoyles stare at you from hollow sockets and grin hideously. A rotting wooden portcullis, green with growth, hangs in the entry tunnel. Beyond this, the main doors of Castle Ravenloft stand open, a rich warm light spilling into the courtyard.
Player - I want to look at the gargoyles. I have a feeling they’re not just statues.
Apocalypse World (original version, p 152): Marie the brainer goes looking for Isle, to visit grief upon her, and finds her eating canned peaches on the roof of the car shed with her brother Mill and her lover Plover (all NPCs).
“I read the situation,” her player says.
“You do? It’s charged?” I say.
“It is now.”
“Ahh,” I say. I understand perfectly: the three NPCs don’t realize it, but Marie’s arrival charges the situation. If it were a movie, the sound track would be picking up, getting sinister.
If we focus
just on the events of the fiction, both involve a character arriving somewhere and sizing things up.
But if we look at these through the lens of the dynamics of play, they could hardly be more different. In the D&D example, the GM is establishing the mood ("towers of stone keep a silent watch"), and the players follow the GM's lead (the GM mentions gargoyles, the player has their PC investigate further).
In the AW example, the player establishes the reason for and rationale of the scene (ie Marie's player has decided that Marie will find Isle and visit grief upon her; the GM provides an opportunity in response to this, by narrating Isle sitting on the roof of the car shed with her companions). It is Marie's player who establishes the mood of the scene, by declaring it to be charged.
These differences are further reflected in the divergent approaches the two systems take to resolution of the declared action.
Btw,
@Micah Sweet and
@Oofta, the difference between these two examples is highly relevant to my remarks about what I experience as railroaded RPGing.