What are story games? And why?

Let this post act as a primer, for anyone who’s interested in story games. Too few people know what story games are. There is a huge wealth of amazing, creative, social people in the world. People I’d love to play games and tell stories with.

This post is an attempt to paint a picture for those people. If you’re one of them, welcome. Here’s this thing I do:

Stories are vital. They’re the reasons our hearts beat. They’re how we make sense of emotions, and fortunes, and the days of our lives. When we don’t take time to honor and cherish stories, we fall back upon only the necessary ones. The ones that help us cope, that reinforce our pre-made choices. We fall back upon the belabored and uncontested stories.

When we step outside of ourselves, and seek stories out on purpose, we hit a great diversity. There are things we hate, and love, and things that change us. We change some things in return. Exploring a story can fill us with awe. It can also be tiring.

Games are vital. They are playful, and engaging. They give us a chance to succeed, but also the freedom not to fret over our success. If you don’t win at a game, your life is still OK afterwards. When something takes the form of a game, it becomes instantly lighter and more playful.

So, marrying these two things, that’s a pretty obvious first step, right?

So, you know those old radio plays? Where people take on characters and speak as them, but occasionally switch into narrator mode? That’s how a story game sounds. Except that instead of reading from a script, we’re creating that through play. Some of it we’re making up all on our own, and some of it’s coming from the rules of the game. We roll dice, sometimes, because the rules tell us certain things based on what we roll. So, there’s elements of radio play, improv, board games and conversation. The specifics are always different.

Story games allow us to experiment with storytelling, in a way that’s detached and playful. We can take on new roles, experiment with new ideas, and we can leave it behind when the game is over. That it’s a game takes away a lot of the pressure – of doing it well, of proving anything, of impressing anyone. The point is simply to play.

That it is play doesn’t reduce the value, either. We can tell super meaningful stories, go to really intense places with our storytelling, portray our characters brilliantly. We can take what we want from the experience, and then move on to something else, burying the rest without ceremony.

There’s this great story game designer named Vincent Baker. He’s written this great game called Apocalypse World, in which he nails it:

Roleplaying is a conversation. You and the other players go back and forth, talking about these fictional characters in their fictional circumstances doing whatever it is that they do. Like any conversation, you take turns, but it’s not like taking turns, right? Sometimes you talk over each other, interrupt, build on each others’ ideas, monopolize. All fine.

All these rules do [...] is mediate the conversation. They kick in when someone says some particular things, and they impose constraints on what everyone should say after. -Vincent Baker

When I read that quote, it fills me with joy. Picture it, with me: a conversation that’s all play, where we aren’t on trial. A conversation built out of fantastic elements, themes and visuals that we want to know more about. A story that we’re all excited about making up, one that we’re making up just for the sheer joy of doing so. A supportive group of people, sharing these goals. And rules that help us focus that story, to add twists and constraints… to make it both easier and more interesting.

That picture is basically what a story game is.
It’s a pretty awesome pastime.