Article: Charging the Entertainment

Pay to Play
by Todd VanHooser

Over the past year I have had the chance to become involved in the Arizona convention scene, and in some cases, have even been a fairly big part of it. As an author I have participated as a vendor, and as a game designer I have participated as a Game Master, or event runner. There is a great amount of work that goes into both of these roles, but recently I have become aware that some of our local conventions have cast a serious shadow over one of these roles in particular.

As a vendor, it makes sense to pay for your booth space. Its the equivalent of paying rent to hock your goods for the weekend. For the most part, these spaces are fair in price...even if the overall attendance (and therefore market) of the convention has been disappointing. Paying for vendor space, however, is not the point of this article.

Instead, I'd like to look at the role and the value of the game master at a convention.

I recently returned from a gaming convention where I literally spent twenty hours entertaining those in attendance. By "entertaining," I mean crafting complex and engaging stories, printing pre-generated characters for easy play, preparing miniatures and settings, and of course juggling a table full of eager gamers, each with the full expectation of being fully entertained for 3-4 hours at a time.

While visiting from out of state, my mother-in-law stopped by the convention for a few minutes just to see what all of this looked like. The next morning, before taking off for my hour drive to Mesa where the convention was being held, she said to me, "It's incredible how much work goes into all of that! How much do you get paid?"

"Paid?" I said with a laugh. "Actually, most game masters paid to be there."

She was stunned. And the more I thought about it, so was I.

All of this comes on the heels of yet another announcement that an upcoming local convention is, once again, asking game masters to pay for their convention badge. Sure its "only" half the cost of admission. In other words, you're looking at being out $20-25 in order to provide everyone else a good time.

That's exactly what I would like to discuss here. I'd like to address the notion of asking game masters to pay for their badge at conventions. Knowing first hand the amount of actual work that goes into this role, I find it...well, insulting.

This shows a serious lack of respect for the entertainment aspect of these events. And it is a troubling trend for this industry.

First of all, let's really break down the role of the game masters. During the actual convention hours, these people are slaving away doing their best job to show attendees a good time. If its a tabletop RPG, then more than likely, there were several hours worth of preparation that came long before the convention opened their doors. Any "recreation" on the part of the game masters likely occurred after the gaming hall closed.

Putting my own personal experience aside, I saw a number of familiar faces locked behind a table from the moment I walked in the door to the moment I left for the evening.

The people attending a gaming convention have come to have fun. They have come with the expectation to have a good time, lose themselves in a RPG, escape their normal lives for a weekend, and to see the full value of their convention badge. The convention coordinators are not the ones providing that entertainment. The game masters are. What would those attendees be doing if those game masters were not there?

Many of those attendees, in fact, only came for certain games. In other words, the only reason why they paid for their convention badge was to participate in a specific game.

You see, the game masters are the entertainment. They are storytellers and tour guides to a fantasy adventure. In fact, the game masters are the bridge to that weekend escape those attendees are looking for.

Making game masters pay is the equivalent of actually charging a band to play at a concert. Its insulting to those people who have put forth the hours worth of work in an effort to show someone else a good time.

I'm unhappy with this trend, and it's not the money that's the problem. It's the principle.

For convention coordinators, I'd consider an old saying: "You get what you pay for."

And for the record, all game masters will be getting in for free at the Laughing Moon Convention in September--each with our deepest debt of gratitude for taking time out of their weekend to entertain the crowds, and my personal thanks for the hard work that goes into it.

-T

Article: The Good Ole Days of Dragon Magazine

When There Were Dragons
by Todd VanHooser

Recently while digging through my office, I stumbled upon a stack of old Dragon magazines. Just looking at the covers of these brought about a wave of nostalgia, and I decided to put away my work for the night and immerse myself in the magazine that I used to love as a kid.

For those of you who don't know, Dragon Magazine was a publication that covered the RPG world, with an emphasis on Dungeons & Dragons. It was a one-stop-shop for the latest word on upcoming releases, feedback on aspects of the game, comics, convention calendars, and fiction. Oh, and some of my all-time favorite fantasy artists were responsible for the most unforgettable covers of the magazine's long print run.

I spent two hours flipping through 5 or 6 golden oldies from the mid-late 80s. Sure, Dragon was published all the way up to just a few years ago, but I think anyone who was a dedicated fan would agree that the pinnacle of that magazine was somewhere in the 80s. For a couple of hours I was lost in "Sage Advice," "Beyond the Dungeon," "Dragonmirth," new magical items, spell uses, character break downs, and some pretty entertaining fiction.

What really struck me about my stroll down Dragon lane was the sense of community this magazine offered back in the height of its publication. This one magazine offered a number of great articles, suggestions, magical items, adventure ideas, and a sense of fun to a community of gamers.

And that's the key word that I thought about after closing the last issue--community. Despite all of our technology--Facebook, texting, twitter, online console gaming, etc.--it seems we have lost that sense of community that really brought people together back in the day.

There was genuine excitement for GenCon right around the corner, or buzz about the new Dragonlance novel (remember waiting for that last book in the Legends trilogy?), and a sense of awe about that amazing Elmore painting on the cover. Dragon was more than just a magazine, it was an invitation into an exciting world that allowed you to be the hero.

Flipping through those magazines re-ignited that sense of adventure and anticipation that used to go hand-in-hand with this hobby. Seeing features on "DM of the Month" or reading feedback and advice on the various nuances of the game reminded me of how...BIG it all seemed. When you sat down to play that game, you knew that you were partaking in a world of adventures, which in turn, connected you to that wider community. And here was a magazine that captured it all in one place.

I want that for today's young generation of gamers. I want that kid who just bought his first set of dice to know that he's just stepped into a larger world of adventure, storytelling, and fun. And that kid isn't alone.

That community still exists, but the struggle for our new generation of gamers is to find it beyond the superficial world of technology.

It can be done, but its going to take some work to get it there. The burden of that sense of community, I'm afraid, falls to us "old-timers." Its us who have to extend the hand and welcome in the new blood. This means getting that younger crowd to conventions, placing good books in their hands, and tearing them away from their online world to interact in a social environment.

In other words, its up to us to inspire this younger generation and show them what made all of us fall in love with this hobby to begin with.

That's what Dragon was all about: sharing the sense of adventure with a community of friends.