EDIT: Is this the introduction to evocative writing? Because it's really fucking similar to the book introduction.
The title of this book is "Writing Adventures for Publication." The other, more accurate, title was going to be "Writing adventures that you plan to have someone else run" but that didn't seem as pithy. A substantial amount of the advice herein can be used by a DM writing an adventure for their own use, but that's not the intent of the book, for good reason.
When you write an adventure that you intend for someone else to use there is an entirely new problem you have to face: the transfer of intent. When you come up with an idea for a room you have to get it out of your head and down on paper in such a way that the DM reading it can share your vision for the room and transfer it to the players. That's a substantially different problem than a DM writing an adventure for their own use.
When I create adventures it looks like some jumbled notes, almost a list, on a paper. It might say "R12. Chasm, bridge." When you read that how would you run the room? Did you know that I meant a rope bridge, fraying, over a chasm full of darkness, a chill wind gusting up, with some orange glow on the other side, maybe form a fire or torch? No, of course not. You had no way of knowing that. But that's what I meant when I wrote it. My notes were meant to spur my memory. I knew exactly what I wanted the room to be, I just needed a little jog to my memory.
But, as a designer writing for someone else, they don't know what you mean. They can't see the picture in your head. All they know is what's on the page. When you write for someone else you have to communicate not only the facts of the room but how the room feels, the entire picture in your head. The vibe behind the room. If you do a good job then the DM reading it understands the room at a very deep level. They know all of the atmosphere and feelings that the room is supposed to invoke. Then they can (try to) communicate that to their players.
This is incredibly difficult. I've reviewed so many adventures in which you can tell the designer wanted to communicate something more than what they actually did on the page. Boring, staid room descriptions that, no doubt, were excitedly alive in their creators head. But they didn't get it down on paper in a way that transferred that vibe to the DM. An evocative description is both hard and an incredible wonder when you get it right.
When I talk about evocative writing that's what I mean. There are many ways to accomplish it. One trap is writing too many words. We think that by describing everything it will somehow communicate what we see in our heads. In reality, it generally comes off boring with over-wrought descriptions, and commits the sin of Not Scanning Well.
[Is it worth it to comment more, maybe in the footnotes, on the danger of a home DM writing too much, to the extent we can't play a game this week because the adventure isn't ready? Maybe in a different section, later on.]
The title of this book is "Writing Adventures for Publication." The other, more accurate, title was going to be "Writing adventures that you plan to have someone else run" but that didn't seem as pithy. A substantial amount of the advice herein can be used by a DM writing an adventure for their own use, but that's not the intent of the book, for good reason.
When you write an adventure that you intend for someone else to use there is an entirely new problem you have to face: the transfer of intent. When you come up with an idea for a room you have to get it out of your head and down on paper in such a way that the DM reading it can share your vision for the room and transfer it to the players. That's a substantially different problem than a DM writing an adventure for their own use.
When I create adventures it looks like some jumbled notes, almost a list, on a paper. It might say "R12. Chasm, bridge." When you read that how would you run the room? Did you know that I meant a rope bridge, fraying, over a chasm full of darkness, a chill wind gusting up, with some orange glow on the other side, maybe form a fire or torch? No, of course not. You had no way of knowing that. But that's what I meant when I wrote it. My notes were meant to spur my memory. I knew exactly what I wanted the room to be, I just needed a little jog to my memory.
But, as a designer writing for someone else, they don't know what you mean. They can't see the picture in your head. All they know is what's on the page. When you write for someone else you have to communicate not only the facts of the room but how the room feels, the entire picture in your head. The vibe behind the room. If you do a good job then the DM reading it understands the room at a very deep level. They know all of the atmosphere and feelings that the room is supposed to invoke. Then they can (try to) communicate that to their players.
This is incredibly difficult. I've reviewed so many adventures in which you can tell the designer wanted to communicate something more than what they actually did on the page. Boring, staid room descriptions that, no doubt, were excitedly alive in their creators head. But they didn't get it down on paper in a way that transferred that vibe to the DM. An evocative description is both hard and an incredible wonder when you get it right.
When I talk about evocative writing that's what I mean. There are many ways to accomplish it. One trap is writing too many words. We think that by describing everything it will somehow communicate what we see in our heads. In reality, it generally comes off boring with over-wrought descriptions, and commits the sin of Not Scanning Well.
[Is it worth it to comment more, maybe in the footnotes, on the danger of a home DM writing too much, to the extent we can't play a game this week because the adventure isn't ready? Maybe in a different section, later on.]
