In tabletop game culture, there isn't really such a thing as plagiarism in the way we think of other uses of the word. We are not just allowed but encouraged to use modules, to mimic the styles of GMs we like, to take inspiration from the things we enjoy--and that's not what I'm talking about. I'm not talking about a rule that says you can't borrow. I think some players would be disappointed to find that something a GM is directly claiming is original is in fact just something else written by another person, but I don't think that's really a big issue with tabletop games. What I mean basically comes down to a matter of choices.
In tabletop games, as in life, everything is a choice. What you as the GM say happens is a choice that has obvious effects (and some non-obvious effects, usually). So is what NPCs say--it's a choice you're making as the GM. But then, so is everything you bring to the table. Every detail you include in GMing, from planning to the session to reviewing it for next session, is a choice.
When GMs make the choice to include something original, they are likely to perceive themselves as taking a chance. In a way, it's true. Classic things are classic for a reason, and something original might fail to live up to that standard. That's the thought, anyway. But I would contest it. Every time I've played with a GM who's done something original, be it small or large, I've been impressed. I've been gaming for a long time and have seen a lot of campaigns, some which were modules and some which were entirely homebrew and some somewhere in between. The moments that we the players and the GM themselves were most happy during was original. And yes, that means that entirely homebrew campaigns tend to be more enjoyable than modules.
But what is meant by "enjoyable"? Science has demonstrated that our brains crave novelty. Simply put, big market modules are not going to introduce much novelty--they are incentivized to provide reliable, safe fun using the ideas that have worked before. There are some more unique modules out there, such as those on this site (ranging from movie one-shots to time loop adventures)--but even these are someone else's creativity, and what will get the most novelty and enjoyment is something that feels natural to you, the GM, and that means creating something of your own. (Have you ever tried to run something as a GM that didn't suit you? It's not fun, and it usually ends in disaster.)
So we come back to the fear: what if my players don't like the stuff I come up with? This is, as many fears are, totally irrational. Our ability as humans to create interesting things is not some binary--it's not either you're creative or you're not. We all have the capacity to come up with story ideas and character designs and interesting worldbuilding. What varies the most is our faith in making our own content.
Let me present a thought experiment: two different campaigns, designed and run differently. Campaign 1 is run from a module by a GM who is uncertain of their ability to homebrew and chooses to do so as little as possible; Campaign 2 is run by a GM who is doing their best to implement some original ideas. Campaign 1 will include dungeons, monsters, combat, and some backstory, and Campaign 2 could be anything--literally anything. I've DMed a civil war, a scrape with a god, a campaign based on the National Treasure movie series, a massive sandbox, a mystery, and a game with so much importance to my world I have to set my next campaign a century later, and that's just in D&D. If those sound radically different from each other, they were! So over the course of three campaigns, the player of Campaign 1 is going to get three slightly varied dungeons, and the player of Campaign 2 will have seen a multi-storyline campaign designed in part by the players, an intensive investigation for a grisly and senseless murder, and literally becoming dragons, the most powerful people in the setting--and I have two players who have experienced exactly that. Which one sounds more fun?
Why should we be afraid to create our own stories and characters and places? I'm personally afraid of using a module--I know I won't enjoy it, and it will hold back my creativity, which is a big part of why I play, so I won't have any passion in delivering the module. A dungeon presented by someone with no stakes in the game will always be moderate fun at most. But if you make something that ends up being even a little cool or surprising or funny or dramatic or epic, that is a gaming memory that the players will carry with them. They'll think, "Oh, I remember when my DM did this crazy twist where the goofy comic relief character turned out to be the villain and almost party wiped us," not "My DM made this weird thing--I dunno, it was kinda lame." If you actually do have someone with that attitude, are they really a good party member or even friend? Tabletop games are about coming together and sharing something special--creating your own material is exactly that.
"But the title of the article says bad and original is better than copied and good!" you might be saying. "You haven't talked about if it's actually bad." Okay, reader, I concede that you're right. Let's talk about if it's bad. Again, I'll use an example. Years ago, I had a DM who ran a pretty nasty table. There were politics and social games and lots of discourteous behavior. It was hard to be a part of, but I was kind of hooked on the worldbuilding. Everything about classic D&D was tweaked. It was weird and silly a lot of the time. Story-wise, it was almost incoherent. Something about a threat against reality from an evil force--I don't recall much since it lacked sense and actual focus in the game. But as flawed as it was, I was really fixated. I kept coming back to face the nasty dynamics and directionlessness so I could enjoy this specific thing that the DM was doing, which was create an open world with lots of relationships and surprises.
On the other hand, I had a DM who was terrified of trying to be creative. Their fear of trying their hand at creating even a storyline or an original NPC meant that we would play directly from a famous D&D module. Folks, it was a lot of dungeons and other fights. It was presented pretty much exactly as it is in the book. I hated it. There was nothing exciting or surprising to attach to. So yes, bad and original (an inconsistent and somewhat unpleasant campaign that had a lot of interesting ideas) is better than good and copied (using a module without changing anything).
And yes, I am going to state for the record that using a module is basically copying. You're copying what the writer told you to do and copying thousands of other GMs in running that, and I say that as someone whose first bloc on this website is modules. Since the potential for what you could make up for your players is literally everything, opting to create nothing amounts to copying another experience for lack of trying. Now it's time for that teacher rant:
When I taught English classes that required essays, I would go in with familiarity of the students' writing styles. It's obvious when someone's diction and sentence fluency suddenly improve to college level skills, so I would run those essays through multiple AI detectors. Every time I was suspicious, I would get multiple hits for stuff like ChatGPT. I would go to the students who turned in these essays and ask them to define elevated words used in their essay. They could not. Because I was a forgiving and kind teacher, I would allow these students to try again using their own work. The resulting essays were generally better than the AI-generated ones because generative AI is, in general, utter garbage that doesn't understand higher thought, but also because those students were entirely capable of writing a good essay but were too afraid to try.
Your GMing career might be like that. You don't know what you're capable of until you try. I've used some examples that make me look good--now let's look at my mistakes. As an early GM, I planned storylines because I thought it was creative to do so--now I know to use creativity to respond to players guiding the story. As an early GM, I was prone to treating player characters I didn't like antagonistically--now I know to be fair to all player characters since I don't always know what their player has in store. As an early GM, I tried to keep the game at the table and never discuss the game outside of referring to in-jokes from the campaign--now I know to be proactive and talk to players when I see potential issues developing. We learn through experimentation and making mistakes, and you can't do that if you're not trying.
One last point about modules. Imagine playing a module you've heard about or read, and the GM is following it to the letter. In one possibility, they end the module the way it's written. In another possibility, they end the module in a new way that takes all the players by surprise. Which is more fun? The one with the homebrew ending is only different in one way, and yet it becomes the focal point of the whole module. The players remember their surprise at the homebrew ending. This is success. And it can be taken further.
At the end of the day, maybe it's a matter of investing in yourself. Running a module might help you learn a few small lessons about GMing, but long-term, you can only go so far with modules. If you want to really get the most you can out of tabletop games, you have to commit to the perceived risk and trust that it's worth it. And I promise you: something original will always be better than something unoriginal, so make the effort to try. I talk a lot on this site about how homebrew is its own reward and about how learning to be a better GM and player is our constant mission, but more than that, I am always telling you to try your hand at homebrewing something. I've taken homebrew to an extreme, but I don't think that's necessary. I'm not saying to drop everything and make a world and a campaign to go in it right now. What matters is that you do something of your own, even on a smaller scale.
There are two types of readers I'm imagining right now. Well, three. Type 1: Avid gamers who homebrew themselves and want new ideas about how to game even better. Type 2: Mystery visitors from all over the world who seem to visit this silly little site in droves, whose motives I cannot speculate about. Type 3: People who are module-runners who are looking to pick this argument apart. To Type 1, I say, hey, thanks for being here, and I hope you find something useful. To Type 2, I say, I don't know what all these supposed visits from the Netherlands and Brazil are about, but thanks for making me feel better. And to Type 3, I say, hey, you've read this far, so give me one last chance to change your mind.
We all know the thrill of making a tabletop game character. Imagining their personality, appearance, name, backstory, goals--it's a high unlike any other. All that creativity gets channeled into making something, and now your character is special to you. This is a nearly universal experience for tabletop games as far as I'm aware. Hold that feeling in your mind, the way it reaches you on a deep level, the way it drives you to be with that character or make a new one. Now imagine that anything in a gameworld could give you that feeling. Every NPC can give you that feeling if you try. Every detail about the homebrew world can fill you with joy. Every moment in the story can bring you the elation of creativity shared with others.
Let's put the fear to bed. Tabletop games are often and always should be safe spaces. We're all coming together to have fun, and that's a vulnerable place to be. If you're playing with friends, they are not going to be rude to you about trying to do something interesting. If it helps you, tell them in advance or right afterward that something is homebrew, and that will help them to understand that you've made something for them, and the expectation is that they treat you graciously for it. And some of you might be saying, but what if I don't like what I make? Then remake it, or scrap it and start over, or borrow inspiration to change it in a fun way. You don't have to use stuff you don't like. You can just make some things you enjoy, create an idea for a story around it, and let the players do their magic with it. It's not too good to be true--that's how all the campaigns I've run have worked, and they've been rewarding and successful. Dismiss the fear. It isn't real. Just try.
I'm a creative person. This is the 258th article on this site. I've written and published a four-novel series about my favorite D&D character. I wrote a free book about Tarot interpretation. I've crocheted 50 stuffed animals, many of my own design. All of that happened in the last five years, while I also ran two incredible campaigns and played in another. I know from experience that making something is scary at first--I didn't try actually writing things seriously until I had almost finished my first degree in English. But what I learned quickly was that once you start, it becomes much easier. Creativity is intuitive, and tapping into it comes quickly for many of us. We all imagine and create differently, but all of us express ourselves somehow. The trick is just finding your voice.
Finding your voice as a person--not just a GM, but a person--is deep, even spiritual work. I don't have an article for something as personal as that. But I can tell you that listening to yourself and knowing yourself are tools we can all benefit from. I use this in my creativity. If I am feeling an emotion, I can write about or in that emotion. If an idea is stuck in my head, I can find a way to work it into whatever I'm working on. (I once, in a fit of writer's block, wrote an article about tattoo art because I just just gotten a new tattoo I was really excited about.) Accept that your first few tries at creativity will be rough and unsatisfying--it's the returning to it that matters. But as you refine your voice, creativity becomes easier and more expansive--being imaginative is a skill that improves with use. If you want to be able to homebrew a campaign in a homebrew whole world, you have to start by imagining one guy or sketching a map or having a cool idea for a campaign. It comes slowly, but surely.
So, Type 3. You're still here. The promise of improved gaming for the simple price of making an effort to try homebrewing something has kept you. I'm glad. Here's where we'll leave this, and this is for everyone, but especially my Type 3 friends out there:
Your approach to gaming is valid and worth time and consideration. I've written modules here because I acknowledge they are a real and present part of gaming. I'm not saying you are wrong about anything. But I also know the reputation homebrew has and the way players talk to me with respect because of my world and stories. I know people have a glow in their voice when they talk about the things that the module didn't write, the exciting moments that happened because of the party's choices. I know the way my players get excited when they come to me with wild ideas about customizing their characters. We all see the ways that creativity makes gaming more exciting. I'm saying that DMing should cater to that. Keep your module but use it to structure your own story--that's still creativity. That still heightens the game. That still has you making something special for your players, which always matters.
So don't fear trying to be creative. Make something bad and original, throw it away, and make something less bad and more original. Keep going until you have something good and original. Trust your players to play it in good faith and make it even more special. You only stand to gain by trying and will gain nothing by not trying. Tactically, that's a clear choice.
That's all for now. Coming soon: how to get into your GM's story, friendship in my homebrew setting, and symbols of power by culture. Until next time, happy gaming!
No comments:
Post a Comment