But I don't see any real value in . . . a 'classic' definition outside of the historical context which coined it.
Words mean things.
I can call a tin cup a gold nugget, but that doesn't make it worth $44.62 a gram.
RPG design is evolving and the language is evolving too such that what constituted 'sandbox' in 1985 is not necessarily what it is now. In the fluid world of RPG theory I don't see any consensus on a definition right now.
I think there is much more consensus than not among actual practitioners.
I find that most of the disagreement comes from gamers who do not run
status quo, 'sandboxy' settings; some of the disagreement comes from lack of familiarity, some for reasons on which I won't speculate.
And I certainly don't see the value in asserting a definition which focuses on the method ("You must prepare a world or it's not sandbox") rather than the result ("You are empowering player decisions so it is sandbox"). Such an approach looks like a recipe for stagnation to me.
Methods are one of the tools by which we achieve results, particularly replicatable results. I'm not a FoRE*-player, but I believe this is one of the reasons 'System Matters' is a part of game theory.
One can prepare a complete world and not run a sandbox game (e.g., the
AD&D Dragonlance modules). One can run a sandbox and prepare only a very small portion of a world (e.g.,
Keep on the Borderlands). One can empower player decisions without running a sandbox (e.g.,
pemerton's game). And one can run a sandbox without empowering player decisions, I suppose (
Celebrim's 'rowboat,' perhaps?).
Such lengthy and probably fruitless debate aside, this thread was intended as a discussion of practical play to try and maximise fun and minimise recurring complaints associated with sandbox play (like 'directionless' or 'nothing to do').
I'm here to see those ideas.
Prep to improvise: A lot of my preparation is focused on improvising during actual play. I begin by getting a good handle on the genre; I want actual play to capture the feel of the source material. After that I immerse myself in the setting; for historical games that means studying the relevant history and geography, for fictional settings it means inventing the same. Finally I prep lots of npcs, from bare stat-skeletons for generic recurring figures like a barman, a guard, or a merchant to fully-fleshed-out unique npcs.
This allows me to set scenes and roleplay characters on-the-fly in response to what the adventurers are doing; perhaps more importantly, it allows me to use simple encounters ("2D6 bandits") as a tool to reinforce both the setting and the genre (the infamous highwayman
La Capuche Noire and his band of vile miscreants, or a family of Auvergnat 'hillbillies', frex).
Random encounters are the 'living' setting: Random encounters are
in media res situations the adventurers face in the course of the game. An encounter with "2d6 guards" isn't six guards walking down the street; it's the sieur de Boisrenard, sergeant to the provost-marshal of Paris, and five archers dragging a man out of his house in manacles while his lovely young wife pleads for mercy.
One of the elements of genre-emulation that's difficult for me to reconcile with a
status quo setting is coincidence; coincidences are a regular feature of cape-and-sword stories, but I don't want to force coincidences on the adventurers. My way around this is to make coincidences a function of the environment of the game, by plugging unique npcs into various encounter tables, so that a coincidental meeting is something of a genuine coincidence generated by the dice in the course of actual play.
*
FoRE = Friend of Ron Edwards