No.

Telling Stories Together

There’s a common adage in the world of story games, introduced through the text of Vincent Baker’s Dogs in the Vineyard: Say yes or roll the dice. Follow the link to read his words on the subject, and then meet me back here.

Vincent’s writing assumes two things: that conflict produces meaningful story, and that saying no gets in the way of producing meaningful story. It’s the second of these two assumptions that I want to draw into question for a moment. Does saying no to a player or a character block meaningful story?

It definitely does some of the time. Let’s say that we’re telling a story about a pistol-wielding archeologist adventurer, and I say that he leaps from the cliff and lands in front of a cluster of evil henchmen, ready for a fight. I’ve got a great idea for where to take this scene, and it’s pregnant with action and struggle. And you say, “well, let’s discuss whether you’d actually be able to survive that kind of fall.” That’s blocking (what my example self considers to be) exciting conflict and meaningful story. It doesn’t add anything to the story, it doesn’t prompt my character to make decisions under duress and it doesn’t change our options. It limits, and it replaces a zinger of a story conflict (will I be able to fight down these sinister henchmen?) with what is at best a crappy story conflict (will I get the chance to face off against these henchmen, like I want to?) and at worst a crappy social conflict (why won’t you just let me do this cool thing?).

So, I’m going to agree that saying no can be detrimental to creating meaningful stories. That’s nearing on unarguable. However, is there also space for blocking/denying/saying no/delaying to be a useful tool in stories? I would say yes. I’m going to reverse my argument before making it, though. There are ways to hear no which are useful to producing good stories, regardless of whether saying it was a good idea. I’m going to walk through a few of the ways I’ve heard “no” surface in story games, and how to make use of them.

Hearing no at a player level

“I don’t see it.”

Willem Larsen introduced me to this phrase. It’s something he uses in group character creation, so that you can have an entire group participating in the creation of a character, but still allow that character’s owner agency and control. This phrase says “I can’t envision what you said plausibly and organically building upon what has already been said / my vision”. It’s elegant in that the speaker assumes responsibility for the disconnect, and it doesn’t necessarily end communication. Try to hear this as “No, but… show me what you’re envisioning.”

The two things that you can do in the face of “I don’t see it” are to acknowledge that there is a gap in the shared imagined space, and work to bridge that gap. The bridging might take the place of differently articulating your contributions (if the gap is one of undestanding), or retreating a narration that breaks someone else’s immersion/belief/investment/plausibility (if the gap is one of expectation).

“No. That’s dumb.”

This phrase doesn’t need much unpacking. Sometimes an idea is not a good idea, and it’s not about a failure of vision. I’ve heard this kind of no over several of my ideas in the past: having the teen gang ride hover-bikes, having my character attempt to assassinate another character in the first scene. I’ve watched people shoot down ideas in the stage before play (the planning/prep stage) several times. Sometimes, this shuts a player down. Sometimes, it forces a player to take a step back, re-evaluate where the group is at, and try to match up their own expectations. Try to hear this as ”No, and… you should take a moment and check your expectations.”

Ultimately, this is someone attempting to protect the artistic integrity of something they’re involved in, and that’s important. The way they’re going about it is problematic, in that they might damage the social integrity, but there are still ways to take this feedback and use it. Hear this as a concern about the final product. They are saying that they don’t want to have to build upon a suggestion they don’t like, and as artists, that is their perogative.

In a sustained, real-time, improvised artistic medium like story gaming, it is assumed that some of the things we introduce will sound dumb. This is natural, realistic and totally fine. To an extent, we must work with the contributions of others even when they aren’t radiant and brilliant, but to an extent we also have the right to exert our standards. If someone deems a contribution subpar, accept that maybe it is. And accept that as being natural, realistic and totally fine. Kill your darling. Listen to the group, hear that there is a difference in expectation, try to find the page that others are on and occupy it, and see if you can infer preference from the block you’ve just received.

“That crosses a line.” or “I’m not comfortable with that.”

There are times when no communicates a comfort differential. Sometimes a member of the group won’t have the established tust necessary to take the story in a certain direction. Sometimes they worry that a certain direction would be triggering, upsetting or too similar to their real lives. No can communicate that someone is not comfortable with I Will Not Abandon You play. Check with yourself about whether this is because the person feels unsafe with the group (something to work on) or unsafe with the subject (something to respect).

Hearing no at a character level

“You don’t find what you’re looking for.” or “It doesn’t work.”

You have a brilliant idea for how to address the story situation that presents itself. You share your plan, expecting it to go through. Someone else playing the story game (or, telling the story) says that your plan fails. They don’t offer a dramatic twist, they don’t offer conflict (in the form of some force with conflicting goals interrupting your character’s efforts), they just say no. You’re left looking at a still-locked-door, or an empty desk drawer, or some other impasse.

This is another player in the group looking at a situation and seeing a way to make it more pregnant and dramatic. If your character failed to pick the door lock and get into the office that way, maybe they need to smash a window. Maybe they need to take the night guard hostage and force him around by the scruff of his neck. This can be interpreted as a preference that the character should exasperate resources, burn bridges, get desperate or escalate the situation in order to get what they want. Try to hear this as, “No, because… I want you to have to earn this one.” It’s delaying the payoff to make it greater.

Now, this no can quickly lead to dysfunction. Maybe they’ve given you no clear indicate how to push or escalate. Maybe they’re actually saying “No, that’s dumb” (ie, saying no to you, not your character), and they’re choosing to mask that in fictional terms. Maybe they’re delaying your fun. Maybe you hate riddles. I’m not advocating the use of this no, I’m merely suggesting that there are constructive interpretations of it.

“No, you can’t do that.” (without the opportunity for conflict)

This is the same as “I don’t see it”, but wrongly targeted at the character and not the player. Interpret it as a no at the player level.

“No, someone else is going to try to stop you.”

There is a conflict of interest. This is the no that we, as story gamers (especially of the indie, Forge-inspired tradition), codify and work with pretty regularly. Try to hear this as “No, unless… you earn it from me.” And then try to earn it, probably through the game mechanics.

* * * * *

There are other ways that we hear no in story games: “Not yet”, “Perhaps we should make this a conflict” and “Why do you want to introduce that?” all carry with them a different no.  I’m not sure how to interpret them productively (that, or I’m just uninterested in talking about them).

I’m not sure how useful saying no is. But I’m pretty confident that learning how to hear no is one of the most useful things that a collaborator of any type, especially a story gamer, can do.

But maybe that’s just dumb, and you can’t see it, and I don’t find the answer, and someone on the internet wants to stop me.

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