Velocimancer Games

So the other night I was lying a-bed and trying to give my eyes a break from digital screens.  I got to thinking about this week’s Mechanic Monday, and about BURN.  Something that had gnawed at the corners of my vision for how the game should be experienced, had been a question that wavered between replayability and variability.  As I mentioned in my previous post, the game was inspired by a particular film, with a specific narrative.  I could envision one great way the game could be played; but how many different ways were there? How could I give the play direction without giving it rails? Having identified this concern, I confronted it and examined it.  I asked myself: What are the choices, and how will they be enjoyable? And what are the ludological tensions - i.e. what will create stakes in the space between options? So I re-examined the narrative.  Something my teen self enjoyed about Spy Game was how Robert Redford’s character masterminded a perfect plan that anticipated every

Ok, so things are a hair brighter than they were last week.  Well, to clarify, things aren’t any better, but my outlook has acclimated.  I’m pulling myself out of the shock now, one phalange at a time.  And this week, I do actually want to write about BURN. As I alluded in last week’s installment, BURN is a 2p inspired by ROOT.  Well, really - it’s inspired by a movie I saw as a teen that, near as I can tell, left virtually no cultural footprint beyond the impression it made on my own memory.  That film is Spy Game - starring Robert Redford and Brad Pitt.  I’ve never seen or heard reference to it since it came out, and I think it truly was fairly forgettable fare; in all likelihood it only found purchase with me because I was young and had no real prior experience with spy/espionage media.  I’d never watched a Bond film all the way through (and still think of Pierce Brosnan as Bond), and the Bourne films had either yet to be made or I’d not been allowed to see them.  I hadn’t seen a

I kind of wanted to write about some mechanics from BURN today (a 2p asymmetric coop set in the world of ROOT) but I ran out of time.  Time is a funny thing in this quarantined world we abruptly find ourselves in.  Elastic and brittle all at once, stretching out and snapping without warning into unlikely instants.  I wanted to write about BURN, a game about someone inside a city trying to help someone trapped inside a city to escape.  Instead I’m going to touch real quick on a mechanic from the reserve pile.  Let’s take a look. Elegant Turn Order Cards In GREEM, a 4p game, each player (Red, Green, Blue, Yellow) has 4 initiative cards (numbered 1-4) for the 4 turns that comprise the game, with each number having a different player colour tiebreaker sequence.  At the start of each turn, each player will secretly select an initiative card to play face-down.  Once all players have selected a card, reveal them all simultaneously; turn order will be based on the lowest card played, with e

It’s Final Preview for the show I’m in, opening is tomorrow.  So even though this is technically a tabletop game design blog (I mean, right? Is it? What are we doing here?) I want to come at this from another angle and noodle around on theory here for a bit – not just as it pertains to writing games but also for the stage. I’m a devout believer that writing across different genres, subjects, and media is all to the good for building your voice and your skills.  Broadening your approach, tackling a variety of challenges, and learning other perspectives; all of these represent tremendous opportunities for a creator.  I consider my game-writing to be (ironically) non-fiction, since the act of invention can result in something real (mechanics), rather than imaginary (fantastical/story), and I’ve noticed a genuine uptick in my writing abilities as a result of my commitment to write regularly in both fiction and non-fiction.  Fiction-writing inspires and livens up my non-fiction-writing; no

For every Monday, there must be a Mechanic.  This was the maxim handed down by my past selves.  And though I curse their (my) name to the Heavens, like lowly Tantalus I keep coming back to this. Oh we’re in a cheery mood eh? Sorry, I’m in the trench that is Tech for the show I’m acting in, so my vim and vigor levels are perilously low.  I’m also dredging up an idea from my reserve list, as opposed to expounding joyously on an idea that has caught recent fire in my brain.  So pray forgive me if the idea is a little more muddled, and my takeaways more head-scratchy.  It’s always tougher when I’m scrolling through my reserve list, trying to re-experience the moment where a mechanic granted me inspiration.  Casting my mind back, I believe this idea may have bubbled out of a froth based on some Dan Thurot reviews on auction games and Peace of Westphalia, as well as the debt cubes from Cole Wehrle’s John Company.  Anyhow, without further adieu: Debt Markers In GREEM, you take out Debt Ma