Sports, games, and simulation: Quiddich Professional League enters Alpha testing

I'm still alpha-testing my new boardgame, Quiddich: Professional League, which is part of my game series based on the writings of J.K. Rowling.  Since this is part of a series, I felt it needed to keep at a complexity level close to the others.  This, as it turned out, was a naive hope.  Quiddich is just too nuanced, and needed more rules than I usually like to model it.

In the Harry Potter series, Quiddich is described in a number of places as being "very complex".  Given the rules, however, it seems, while multi-faceted, to be simply layers of simplicity stacked atop each other.  Given my love of designing abstract strategy games, this should have alerted me to the trouble ahead.

Known as emergent complexity, this is the idea that very complex results are often the result of a few simple rules systems interacting with each other.  Complex and numerous rules, on the other hand, usually have the habit of constraining complexity.  Using more and more rules to control the situation is the sign of weak design, in an abstract strategy game.  Go is the gold standard for simple rules and emergent complexity.

Rowling's statement about the complexity of Quiddich proves true.

For a game like this, basically a simulation of a physical sport, I needed to model the movements and actions of fourteen players in four different roles, as well as the attributes and actions of four different balls.  All moving in three dimensions, all at the same time.  Each turn.

Keep it simple, I told myself, over and over.  For instance, I wanted to keep it pure strategy by not using dice for action resolution.  But that left me with the problem of players selecting from numerous possible actions by calculating the success of each and choosing only successful options.  Talk about paralysis!  The game threatened to get bogged down before I ever tested it.  The solution:  ignorance.

Not knowing a predetermined outcome is as good as randomness, so I hid a lot of the information from the opponent on cubes.  You can see your information, but the other team cannot.  Now there was no way to know if you'd succeed or not until you declared your action.  You'd have to correctly predict your opponent's intentions, a gauge how much they wanted something to happen.

The 3D nature of flying players and balls I abstracted away, and I kept the field very few spaces, to force players into tight proximity.  But the complexity of modelling a sport dogged me.  Every element was modeled with the fewest rules I could manage and still perform its function.

Throwing a ball is a good example.  There are two main types of throw in the game of Quiddich: throws form one player to another (a Pass), and throws through the golden hoops that score your team ten points (a Shot on Goal).  It seems nit-picky, but it's essential to allow blocking and interceptions, as well as defending the rings by the Keeper.  Oh, and then there are penalty shots.  How do you manage strategy when there is only one shooter and one defender?  Both players automatically have highest priority, so how can it be made strategic?

Taken together, this network of simple parts transforms into something else entirely.  And that says nothing of the technical task of writing the rules to make this comprehensible to others.  As prose, the rules are about fifteen pages long.  Gak!  I'm hoping when I do a full-art version, they'll boil down a lot.

Modeling a sport has really brought home how complex the rules of the average sport are.  The reason sports are, from a game-designer's point of view, inelegant, is that there are just so many rules.  But dealing with the real world in real time means you have to institute all sorts of controls.  Even in the wizarding world, the game was sometimes hard to watch and understand without magical assistance, and I can only imagine how a Referee could do their job.

I wanted to allow basically every interaction that was shown in the book's Quiddich matches, and I believe I have done a good job of it, now that I've been alpha-testing for a week or so.  The four types of players are all very useful, and each of the four balls in the game works completely differently.  But, now that I have a working model of Quiddich, the true complexity of the shifting tactics has really come home for me.  I wonder if J.K. Rowling realized how well her imaginary sport actually plays out, because, if my game is any sort of good simulation, the sport of Quiddich is a hugely deep, and very impressive piece of game design.  I wonder what other games she might have designed, and just doesn't talk about much.

 But I can't wait to start beta-testing, as offloading half the work onto another brain would be such a relief!

The Downward Spiral

There comes a point in every story where the end begins.  The threads have all been woven or cut, and those remaining must be tied off.  For completed work, this is the final buildup toward the climax.  For short stories, this is the end of the initial setup.  Short stories begin poised to end.

I call this moment of no return the Downward Spiral.

There's simply no turning back.  And if you have all your ducks in a row, that's just fine.  You can ride the wave to the end.  But sometimes, maybe often times, the tug of the downward spiral brings a twinge of apprehension.  The rapidly approaching future is still unclear.  Sometimes just hazy, and sometimes fully obscured, a fog of half-formed approaches to getting what you need done, or, worse yet, not being certain what needs to be done at all.

I used to revel in this uncertainty, and perhaps I still do.  I love having to think on my feet, like the characters themselves.  But with some projects, this approach simply won't work.  Whether because you've jumped your outline or never had one, the vortex of the downward spiral might make you want to pause, and get your thoughts in order before you go on.  The larger the project, the more likely this sort of late-stage planning is necessary.

My current trilogy, Queen of Cinders, is a perfect example of this.

Book One was a textbook outlined project, that I followed relatively unchanged from beginning to end.  Book Two, however, derailed the outline I had prepared for it.  My expanded understanding of the characters, and the pacing that had developed, demanded events happen first at different times, and then in different ways, than I'd foreseen.  The ending was far more satisfactory than I'd pre-imagined it.

With this in mind, I began Book Three with an entirely different approach.  Rather than outline, I'd plan just a few scenes ahead.  This trilogy has many points of view, and I used a simple spreadsheet to give each character a column.  If I thought of things that needed to happen further into the future, I'd simply write it in a cell far down their column.  Sometimes I'd switch which character presented an event, based on whose take on the events I wanted to highlight.

All three of these books are in two parts each.  Now, part one of book three is coming rapidly to a close, and will be finished in a few days, leaving the final half of the final book.  Everything I want to do has to happen in an ever-shrinking future.  The ability to forward-cast interesting hooks, or events I wanted to include, is coming to a close.  A more structured outline suddenly needs to return.  Full circle?  Maybe.

This last book is going to be about four hundred pages, so I've got only two hundred pages to work with.  And that feeling of visiting a place for the last time will be growing as I write, as it sometimes does for me during the downward spiral.  Of course, as the author, I can do more drafts, and thus revisit places, but editing is different than creation.  Barring the sort of disastrous mishap that would require major rewriting, editing is a far cry from forming the initial draft.

So the downward spiral is a good thing, signalling that I'm nearly done in the process of completing a new manuscript.  The story is almost finished, rough edges and all.  But there's pressure there, to do what needs to be done in the story, and make it look easy while it happens.  It's a special time that makes many authors feel like slow-motion athletes, swimming an ever-tightening route, until the tale is told.

Identity Confusion

Today we've got guest musings from Dean C. Rich, the maestro of The Write Time blog.  Besides being the man who scored the most sought-after blog name, he also the author of Seven Silver Swords, a project he has been polishing to a mirror finish for some time now (nudge, nudge...).  Look upon his works, ye mighty, and feel just a wee bit inspired. 

Characters. Basic item for any story. Fundamental. There are many memorable characters throughout literature. 

Creating a character for a story isn’t always easy. Movies have all sorts of characters, just look at the closing credits: 1st cop. Lady with a purse. Guy with beard. 

Someone to take up space on film. Not hard. 

However, words on paper are precious. Crafting a character may seem easy on the surface. The author takes time to learn about what the character likes, dislikes, looks like, etc. Once the character is set loose in the story, they take on a life of their own. Very seldom does the character do what the author intends.

To create a character the author puts a little bit of themselves into the character. One must write about what one knows. 

To a point.

Conflict is the point of any story. Characters have conflicts. I know when I’ve written things I’ve had to do research, but my characters have done things I would never do. 

There are so many topics to write on, so many stories, and so many different conflicts. I’ve read some stories about serial killers. I know the writer isn’t a serial killer, but the character is. What the characters do in the story isn’t a part of the writer. Sometimes writers have to do difficult things to make the story work.

I know I’ve several characters I identify with, I’d like to be like that character. My character reflects what I want to be. Then there are the darker characters with flaws and issues that I have worked hard not to have. Yet I must reflect those items in the story.

One thing that works for my writing is to read my words aloud. Read the dialogue. Action; where I can – act it out. It becomes real. So when the characters are contrary to my personal character: Identity Confusion.

Like an actor who plays the dark parts, contrary to themselves, decompression is needed to return to their balance. 

When have you experienced Identity Confusion? How did you deal with it? Were you successful?

Recurring Themes

To get 2014 started in style, we have a guest post by the mighty Joyce Alton, the creator and overlord of the Yesternight's Voyage blog.  Go there, and marvel!


Aaron asked a couple of simple but poignant questions:
     Looking at your work as a whole, do you see any recurring themes or imagery?
     What does that suggest to you about yourself?

So I pulled up my story idea list, the finished, the half-completed, and the ones waiting to be done, approximately 150 altogether. What I think I liked best about this topic was the self-analysis it involved, because my best ideas have come from my subconscious while I sleep. And I wondered what my recurring themes were.  I had three pop out at me:

1 – Travel and how settings affect people. Common places and settings that really stretched my imagination. I’ve had an abiding love for geography and while I may not have traveled the world, I’ve sent other people places and done the research. I find cultures and languages fascinating. One thing that relaxes me and helps me brainstorm is to draw a map. I’m always considering how my setting will play into the plot or even the overall mood of what I’m writing.

Along with natural setting, architecture and engineering fascinate and inspire me. It’s easy for me to brainstorm places and I never have anyone ask me to work more on this aspect of my writing. Usually, I have to cull description. What does this say about me? Part of me wishes I could travel. I wish I had the time to learn several languages, learn first-hand about other cultures. I love being transported when I read a story and I want to do the same thing for others when I write.

2 – Overcoming personal handicaps, particularly ones characters put on themselves: inhibitions, moral or ethical crossroads, fears, grudges, perception, the ability to choose, action vs. inaction. I love a good internal conflict. I also believe that oftenest in life our enemy is ourselves. Reaching the point of recognizing when we have an issue, choosing to ignore it or change it, the consequences, the tests and mistakes, and hopefully the point of overcoming have contributed to every story I’ve written.

I tend to be a self-doubter, a perfectionist. I’m constantly analyzing myself, my motives, and stressing over my weaknesses. I admire people who overcome, whether it’s kicking a bad habit, someone who chooses the harder road because it’s the right way to go, or the person who develops restraint despite its unpopularity and the extra persecution others think they can then heap on that person. I think I have at least one person who’s good at restraint in each of my stories.

3 – This last one is the biggest recurring theme and I’m dividing it into three parts:

Human relationships:
a) Family. Family’s a big deal to me and the people I’m related to had the most powerful impact on my life. Whether those influences were positive or negative, they are the ones I remember best, the ones which helped to shape me as a person. Recognizing that, there is a theme of family in my stories. Whether it’s a large family dealing with their largeness, a broken family, someone finding or creating a new family, or someone running away from family—every story has this element in it.

b) The side kick. The person without superpowers or position. I’ve written many stories where my point of view character or even protagonist is in actuality the side kick to someone else. These characters are strengtheners; the ones who help the more powerful characters achieve their goals. In real life we tout the
superstars, the famous, the person who took an idea and made it work, the people who are most obvious. We usually overlook the many other people who made that fame, that idea, that opportunity happen or work out. We don’t read their stories, we don’t know their names, we don’t know of their inner struggles. I’m fascinated by these not so obvious heroes and heroines and I write about them.

c) Another must are the good quirky relationships involving someone who isn’t really classified as a people person. Call it an Anti-Popular Person Successful Relationship, I suppose. This one gets a bit more personal and I have the most experience with. They say to write what you know, and I know about these kinds of relationships. You know, the person you’ve never spoken to but partially admire, partially are afraid of or think you’ll loathe? The person who isn’t necessarily a loner, but they aren’t always the center of attention. The person with their own sense of humor and who looks at life differently than most people. It’s easier to go on avoiding that person or shunning them. But here’s the secret, if you connect with someone like that, you really connect. They aren’t here-and-then-gone-again friends. And they draw you into their ideas, their perspective, their world.

So thank you, Aaron, for this opportunity to analyze my writing and myself into the bargain. I definitely learned a few new things. I’d love to read about what other writers discover when they ask themselves the same questions. What are your recurring themes and what do they say about you?

Welcome, toddler 2014!

Wow, baby new year is already potty-trained, and I'm still reeling from New Year's Eve celebrations.  Well, this year is going to be a mixed bag of writing, editing, and publishing.  I've re-jiggered my goals for this year to be more in line with the amount of time I actually spend doing stuff in a year.  Somehow, I only work on my own stuff about 300 hours a year, which is only half the time I technically have.  But rest has to come from somewhere, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it.

That said, here's a goal list for this year:

Writing:
1 novel completed
This will be Queen of Cinders, Volume Three, and finish off the trilogy.

Publishing:
The Gallery Hunters, Volume III
This anthology will compile the stories of Gloren and Yr Neh published by Black Gate Magazine, as well as a number of new tales.  It will serve as a test-bed for self-publishing.  Airbags and sick bags in stock?
Check!

Self-Promotion
I'm working on a small animated short to go along with The Gallery Hunters release.  Yes, I love animation and cinematography.  And yes, it does take a long tine.

Agent Hunt
I can't give up the traditional route, now that things have changed so much since my last efforts at representation.  Since I used to do much the same thing in a different industry, I understand that getting an agent is far from the goal, but merely a first step.  that will help with the rejections involved with the process.  I've got enough work in the pipe to keep any success or failure of any one of them from being a game-ender.

Painting
6 Covers
I need to get cracking on marketing my art.  This is something I've avoided long enough.  But marketing isn't my thing, so I'm going to be groping, here.  But I've got a few projects already under way, so we'll see how this goes.

And that's it, mostly.  Pretty modest.  And modest is my middle name.

Queen of Cinders, Book Two Complete

Though overdue, I'm happy to announce that the second book in my current work-in-progress, Queen of Cinders, was finished in mid November, and I immediately launched into writing the third and final volume.  My plan is to finish the entire trilogy, and then do editing runs on all three books at once.

So, how did writing this second book (Widow) compare to writing the first (named, for those not in the know, Waif)?  This is a tough question.  Waif was written so quickly, and went so smoothly, that writing Widow came as something of a shock.  Repeatedly interrupted for painting commissions, it took a year an a half to write, as compared to the first book's twenty-seven days.  Even being longer, this book wasn't that much longer.

Also, I know that there are continuity errors written into it that I'll have to tackle when I do an editing run.  Having gaps of months between writing blocks made keeping certain things straight very difficult.  For example, I wrote the same dialogue twice, from different points of view.  Worse still, the characters took opposite sides of the argument in each of these two scenes.  Taken together, the exchanges make no sense.  Also, I'm not certain how well developed certain characters are, given their secondary but pivotal nature.  This is a common problem with first drafts, and rereading often makes this sort of balance issue easier to spot.  But for now, I'm just going to have to live with the uncertainty of it, and plow ahead writing book three.

Also, Widow jumped the tracks about half way through, flying free of my outline for it as the plots matured.  Strangely, this wasn't the reason for the continuity errors.  The story just outgrew the conception I'd had of it before beginning the series.  The characters are deeper, their motivations more nuanced, and the sharply defined actions and motivations I thought would be needed for clarity turned out not to be needed at all.  This is one reason that planning too far out isn't really a good use of time, for me.  I'd have to strangle a lot of the growth of the characters in order to service my planning, and keep the story in the lines.

And we've all read books that have that particular flavor, haven't we?

So, Book Two is done, and I'm happy with it, including the very different denouement than I'd planned.

Onward, to Book Three!

Spotlight's on You: A.G. Carpenter

This short story, highlighted in the very first Stupefying Stories Showcase feature, shows how to do SF right.  Man, this is creepy stuff.  Hats off to A.G. Carpenter for crafting this small gem.