Jun 04, 2008 15:18
So, Aileen and I went to our local comics/gaming retailer recently, and he said to us happily, "So you guys know about the upcoming big release this week? You know - the Vampire book?"
That was nice of him, I thought.
Of course, to some extent it was true. He'd lost some sales of the D&D 4th edition to people who cancelled their preorders and went to buy the book at a big chain store that had broken the street date. And up here around Asheville, World of Darkness stuff has been nicely competitive with D&D. Enough so that it kind of illustrates a point about just how unusual the hobby is.
Basically, RPGs spread through viral transmission. You might be infected by picking up a game cold because it looks cool, but it takes social contact in order for the RPG to properly incubate and grow. And at that point, it starts infecting others. D&D is a particularly popular game in part because it had a big epidemic outbreak in the '80s, and it's had a lot of carriers ever since. Vampire and the rest of the World of Darkness enjoyed their own heavy outbreak in the early '90s as well, giving us a nice little foothold in the collective gaming consciousness.
The interesting thing about this is that communities can become interesting pools that incubate odd preferences. For example, locally Werewolf was consistently more popular than Vampire; a trend that doesn't reflect the market in general, but up in Appalachia where the woods are closer and the cities smaller (or at least, they were - goddamn "progress"), the werewolf seems a more natural fit than the urbane vampire. There are towns where games that are far from market leaders are dominant, thanks to some gamers who run good games that have inspired other people to run more of the same. You might know of a town where Toon is remarkably popular, where Paranoia has never gone out of style, or where Spirit of the Century has caused a lot of people to quit delving into dungeons and start swinging from zeppelins. LARPs can skew this even further (as I'm sure happened locally); even in the oWoD days, you could see places where a boisterous Changeling LARP meant that Changeling was far and away the most popular game.
Now, this does make things a bit tough for us when we're trying to figure out just what's working and what isn't. Changeling: The Dreaming was never a major contender in sales; yet in some places, it was clearly tapping into the local mentality quite nicely. It can be hard on fans, too. I've always hated to have to tell someone who asks me "Why in the world did you cancel [Game X]? It was the most popular game around here!" that well, we wish it had been that popular elsewhere, too. But for some reasons, perhaps filtered through my oh-so-charming disease metaphor, the virus just didn't prosper and transmit itself quite as vigorously.
So you look at games a little harder. You want to find out ways to make them more... contagious, really. You want it to be easy to describe to other players what exactly you do, or why the game is so cool - but you also want your ideas to be distinct enough that they don't feel recycled. You want to try finding talking points that a reader just has to tell a friend about. And that's hard. Seriously, it's like trying to find the philosopher's stone; if we'd perfected the art, we'd be rolling in gloriously weak American dollars. But even if you can't find the perfect formula, you can maybe pick up on some elements that make your game just a bit more infectious.
But ultimately, it's not up to just us. It's up to the people who play. A good and interesting game will never be quite up to the power of a talented and enthusiastic Storyteller who is willing to entertain newcomers, or a group that says "hey, come over and try out this neat new thing." So while we may be spending time trying to figure out those magic transmission vectors, we also take time out now and again to appreciate those people who are out there spreading the love for no other reason than just enjoying the hobby. For all of you out there who've ever welcomed a newcomer, or taught a friend, or just answered a few of a stranger's questions about a game - you have our heartfelt thanks. You are what makes the whole idea of a gaming community worthwhile.
And sorry about the whole pathology metaphor. That might've been a bit... yeah.\
--
Ring Name: Jess Mullins
Hails From: Huntsville, Alabama
Angle: Face; the quiet one
Style: Technical
Entrance Music: “Sweet Home Alabama,” Lynyrd Skynyrd
Working the Crowd: Laughs at a private joke
Foreign Object: PDF archive
Finishing Move: APB (“Alternate Press Bomb”; sitout crucifix powerbomb)