Running a role playing game is a very demanding sort of activity. The referee, or dungeon master, storyteller, game master, universe king, or whatever you would call him, has to do many things at once. It is clearly not a task for those who cannot, in a non-physical sense, walk and chew gum at the same time. Somewhere in your mind, you’re keeping track of who all these people are in the present scene, where they are relative to each other, what else is visible (or present invisibly), and what is happening. For all the active non-player characters, you have to know what they would be thinking, how they would react as the scene unfolds, and what options they have. To complicate it, you also have to be somewhat aware of the people who are not present, in terms of whether they are doing something that matters, and whether they are likely to arrive. There are many undercurrents of plots and themes being balanced, as each character well-drawn has his own story, only intersecting with this one where it matters to the player characters.
You also probably have a great deal of paperwork in front of you. There are probably game books, scenario descriptions, character sheets. In addition, most referees are creating more papers as the game progresses, making notes on what is happening, marking changes made to the scene, and otherwise keeping track of details as they unfold.
Beyond that, there is the wealth of knowledge which the referee either knows or can find at need. Every character has abilities on which they primarily rely, but also other abilities they seldom use which the referee has to understand and apply the moment the player decides to bring them into the game. This knowledge base is present, part of everything demanded of the referee.
Most games also have at least some math, if only the addition of a couple of numbers. Referees may find themselves adding numbers in their heads while looking up particular rules for a current action and carrying on an in-character conversation as a non-player character, all while attending to what people are doing and where they are standing. It is a mind-boggling effort at times.
The best advice anyone can give for how to improve your abilities as a game referee is to practice it by doing it. There is nothing exactly like it, and only by practice will you improve. It’s been likened to driving a car, in that eventually much of it becomes automatic, and you only have to think about it directly when in an unusual situation. I cannot say that there is anything you can do that will make you a better driver that is better than driving; and I cannot say that there is anything you can do that will make you a better referee that is better than refereeing.
Yet driving simulators improve driving skill; thinking about driving helps, and riding a bicycle can help. There are, in a sense, exercises you can do that will help you become a better driver, apart from driving. I’m going to propose that there are exercises you can do that may help you become a better referee. I’m also going to suggest one, something I do that I think helps me think better, which on the surface might not seem so obvious.
The next time you’re watching a movie in the theatre, stay for the credits. I know people will be pushing past you; I know that there’s some guy in the projection booth who’s hoping everyone will leave so he can turn on the lights and start cleaning up. Ignore them, ignore him. You paid to see this movie, so don’t cheat yourself out of the credits. Besides, there are movies which put something at the end of the credits that’s worth seeing, taking a cue from a few Disney films. Don’t rush to the parking lot or the bathroom (well, if you need to rush to the bathroom, all right–but plan on staying for the credits next time). Let the credits run. Stay in your seat.
As the credits run, read them. Read as many as you can, as fast as you can. You’ll find that much of the time they move too fast for you to catch them all; I think Kermit the Frog was right–those are there for the family members of the people listed, who know where to look for the name of their loved one. But if you make a serious effort to read, you’ll learn to skim, to read faster, to understand concepts without mentally pronouncing the words.
Yes, you can get the same thing from an Evelyn Woods course or other speed reading training. Speed reading is a valuable skill. You don’t have to stay for the credits to learn it, and probably can learn it elsewhere more efficiently. But that’s not all I want you to do.
While you are reading, you will undoubtedly notice that there is music playing. Reading is a left-brain function; it is about processing information. Music, however, is a right-brain function. What I want you to do is, while you are reading those credits as intensely and quickly and completely as you can, listen to that music. Don’t allow yourself to tune it out. Tune it in. Hear the melodies, feel the relationships between the notes and the interaction of the lines. Give as much attention to what is playing as you can.
But don’t stop reading. Read and listen at the same time. Do both as much as you able.
You will find as you progress that your attention drifts between the two. That’s all right; just don’t let it drift too far. Don’t stop reading, don’t stop listening. If you note that you are not as attentive to the music, focus back on it; if you note that you are not understanding anything you read, pay more attention to that.
So it seems I am asking you to do two things at once. Yet a few weeks ago as I watched the closing credits of the latest Star Trek film I realized that this is not so. I’m actually asking you to do three things at once–as I was, at that moment, doing, reading the credits, listening to the music, and analyzing the process, the exercise, as it was progressing. You, too, will be doing three things at once. You will be reading and listening, and watching yourself do both so you can keep them in balance. It was then, while I was reading credits as fast as I could and trying to absorb the music that was playing behind them, that I began forming this article; it was then that I recognized the value in harnessing our minds into several tasks at once as practice for running games.
I suspect that it will help you. I’ve gotten better at it over the years, and I think it has helped me.
Next week, something different.
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M. Joseph Young is co-author of Multiverser and Vice President for Development at Valdron Inc. His many contributions to online literature are indexed for convenience, and he looks forward to discussing these things by e-mail or on our Gaming Outpost forums.
