Exchange of Realities

Yesterday, I riffed on the usefulness of collaborators in worldbuilding and plot-devising. If they’re so useful, we might wonder, why do so few of us have or choose to use them?

One of the biggest reasons is the people we have access to. Our audiences need to have several characteristics: An understanding of how we think, an idea how the world we’re trying to write is supposed to work, and an interest in giving us a hand. Which means that usually, we’re limited to fellow geeks. This isn’t too bad if you happen to be a writer, since fellow geek-writers aren’t always that hard to come by. When you’re a gamer, it’s a bit tougher, since you usually need someone who understands both the system and your playstyle.

Where’s the problem? It’s quite simple: Most of the people who fit this role are already going to be in your game group. And there are a lot of potential problems with using one of your players as a sounding board. The biggest two, of course, are the appearance of favoritism (why does HE get all the good plans?) and the fact that—well, how are you supposed to surprise them if you’re asking for their advice on all the really good plot twists?

That’s not an insurmountable issue, of course. One of my friends survives by collaborating with everyone; one person might be hearing about such and such an NPC, another might design an opponent for him, yet a third might be a sounding board for the unique philosophy he’s basing this game around. It’s not easy, of course—if one of your players is someone you’ve known for ages who lives near you, while another lives across town and another is closer but doesn’t have reliable transportation, and all of them are online but one has a full-time job and another types really slowly… you can see where this is going, right? Imbalances. That whole appearance of favoritism thing. The ones who are more out of touch feeling left out. Not a good thing.

So we try looking elsewhere. A lot of people put their questions to message board communities. On the plus side, it gives us people who are definitely geeks and most likely interested in helping us. The downside is that we still can’t guarantee our visions meshing—and more importantly, it’s public. What happens if one of our players come to look? It can, however, be a decent first step; find someone who’s got the right system-knowledge and who seems to think the way you do, then see if you can find another way to talk to them. I personally recommend personal messages or switching over to an instant messenger if possible.

People we used to game with are also a useful resource. It helps if your separation was relatively congenial, of course. The person whom you don’t game with because one of you moved away, for instance. Or the one who really did only have time for one game and the other one fit his playstyle better. Or the one who moved several time zones away and can’t make it to the regularly scheduled online session. The advantage to them is that they know how we work, they know the system, and if we’re really lucky they know the other PCs. Of course, there’s the fact that conspiring with them is reminding us that they left, and there’s always that off-chance that they’ll find their way back, but it’s worth it. And unfortunately, not everyone has ex-players like this.

These aren’t the only solutions, just the most straightforward. If we blog, we might tap our commenters—it’s not particularly hard to get ahold of them or to ask them to get ahold of us. If we’re in writers’ workshops, we might submit our plots or debut certain characters in the guises of other stories. Our friends might recommend friends to talk to.

But if you can get a collaborator, take advantage of their presence. You likely won’t regret it.