Chad Perrin: SOB

31 March 2009

Yes, active voice is important in fiction.

Filed under: Writing — apotheon @ 04:40

Anyone who has gotten any kind of formal education related to writing — such as taking a high school English class in the US — should have heard that “passive voice is bad” at some point.

For those who have been away from English composition instruction for too long, active voice is where you describe someone doing stuff; passive voice is where you describe how stuff was done by the person. I’ll provide examples.

Active Voice:

David ate the candy.

Passive Voice:

The candy was eaten by David.

In short, a statement uses active voice when the subject of an action is the subject of the sentence, and it uses passive voice when the object of an action is the subject of the sentence.

It’s sometimes argued that the idea that passive voice is bad is a great rule of thumb for writing essays, but not so much when writing fiction. Artistic license comes into play; the best way to tell a story is whatever works best for telling the story, and the usual rules don’t apply. It’s the same excuse used to justify starting sentences with “but” or “and” in fiction, but that’s an annoyance for another day.

While reading Cory Doctorow’s Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town, I noticed some passive voice in the narrative. People really do use passive voice in everyday conversation, so of course using passive voice in dialog is pretty much necessary for writing a story set in anything approaching the modern age that is meant to maintain any kind of effective suspension of disbelief. The example I ran across, though, was in the narrative (as I said) — and it serves as a decent example of why you should avoid passive voice in fiction, too.

Another thing one tends to hear when receiving formal education in writing, specifically in relation to writing fiction, is “Show, don’t tell.” Your readers generally want to read a story, where events can surprise them and the narrative doesn’t come across like a dry, out-of-order recounting of events with a journalistic tendency to always state “the point” first and fill in explanatory blanks later.

Doctorow started a scene in the book thusly:

They ended up at the Timberline Wilderness Lodge and Pancake House, and Mimi clapped her hands at the silk-flowers-and-waterbeds ambience of the room . . .

That’s not the passive voice, though. That came at the end of the second paragraph:

as she poured into the tub the bottle of cheap bubble bath she’d bought in the lobby.

Tortured phrasing, events described out of order, and people whose actions happen to them rather than actually performing their actions, all add up to a bad case of telling rather than showing. Doctorow is telling us (the readers) that Mimi got some bubble bath soap a while ago, and is telling us this as though the bubble bath soap is the active party. More to the point, he’s telling us this rather than showing us through a description of what Mimi did. He didn’t show us how she picked out the bottle of bubble bath soap and paid for it — he told us that she had bubble bath soap, and bought it earlier from the lobby.

It comes across as the result of bad planning, at first glance, like the author simply forgot to account for the bubble bath before this point. At second glance, it looks like laziness, like a novel made it to publication without getting edited for stuff like this. More likely, Doctorow simply thought it was more “artistic” this way, and believed passive voice wasn’t really a problem for fiction, just like a friend of mine who said something to that effect a couple of days ago.

If Doctorow had decided to eliminate passive voice from that passage by rearranging the way he narrated the beginning of that scene, though, it would have made for better reading.

What if 4E was open?

Filed under: Geek,Liberty,RPG — Tags: , , , — apotheon @ 01:54

This is part of my RPG series of entries here at SOB. See the inaugural entry in the series for more details.

Chris, over at 6D6 Fireball, has a recent piece called What if 4e was free? In it, he floats the idea of building long-term success for the Dungeons & Dragons brand by giving away all the core books as black-and-white PDFs. The idea is that this would make it easier for more people to get into the game, and would build a lot of goodwill, as well as providing a bunch of fans with the impetus to buy more non-core game books and merchandise.

Part of the reason something like this sounds like a good idea is the fact that WotC/Hasbro has burned a lot of gamer goodwill by reversing its position on open gaming. With 3E, Wizards of the Coast introduced the Open Game License, which essentially made the core rules of third edition Dungeons & Dragons into an “open source” game. While the contents of the WotC books themselves were covered by copyright, all rights reserved, WotC released the System Reference Document, which consisted entirely of materials subject to the terms of the OGL.

As pointed out in Dungeons & Dragons: The gamers are revolting! Rebecca Bryant points out what many of us already know — that, after years of declining sales, 3E and the OGL was a shot in the arm for D&D sales and for the RPG industry as a whole. Accompanying the rise of D&D, though, was the rise of third-party publishers of D&D compatible game books, and even of competing, nearly compatible systems, such as Green Ronin Publishing’s True20, all made possible by the OGL. Dozens of small, essentially basement-run publishers sprang up to create new gaming materials that would otherwise never have existed, producing a cottage industry that owed its entire existence to the OGL.

Well, darn. Rejuvenating the D&D brand also generated a whole new community of small publishers making money off of ideas inspired by, and usually dependent on, WotC’s D&D books. WotC/Hasbro decided things had to change. As Rebecca Bryant said:

But it didn’t last long. Perhaps threatened by the upsurge in competition, Hasbro and Wizards of the Coast attempted to recall the open license and revoke the rights of third-party publishers, and supporters of the open license were fired en masse. When they found that the license could not be revoked, they began work on a new edition of D&D that would not fall under the open license. They banked on the brand name’s popularity forcing the industry to comply with their new standard and created an almost unusably restrictive “game system license” allowing minimal third-party support for their new edition.

Like many industry dominating corporations, the WotC/Hasbro collective decided it was in its best interests to make sure that nobody else got to make any money off its core brand or anything spawned by that brand. I keep seeing this sort of thing happen — in music, fiction publishing, online news, and other industries dependent on copyrightable works — and, pretty much every time, I find myself shaking my head in incredulity at the short-sighted stupidity of such business strategy. Fans and customers get alienated, and other businesses are destroyed, all for no real benefit in the long run. Getting all the profit for oneself doesn’t ensure you’re going to make more money. If your business dominates 90% of an industry, and you decimate (literally, “reduce to one-tenth”) destroy a 90% majority of the industry, gaining total control of the whole industry means you’ll be left with a ninth of your previous profits.

(edit: as pointed out in comments, I had a brain fart in which I managed to reverse the definition of “decimate”, so I altered the sentence accordingly)

Decimation isn’t what’s happening to the RPG industry, of course — at least, not yet. WotC/Hasbro isn’t proving nearly that effective in destroying the competition. In fact, it seems to be increasing the competition with its actions, turning third-party publishers of materials that supported D&D in the past into first-party publishers of competing products in the present.

If 4E was as open as 3E, there may still have been attempts to create competing 3E-compatible game lines. They probably wouldn’t have been likely to get a chance at as much market share as they do get now, though — because third-party publishers wouldn’t have been effectively driven away from 4E by its restrictive licensing policies.

As someone who prefers the underlying system of 3E over that of 4E, there’s definitely an upside to WotC’s reversal of direction on licensing; Pathfinder RPG, my favorite descendant of the original D&D game, probably wouldn’t even exist without WotC/Hasbro attempts to drive third-party publishers out of business. Still . . . my ideal world would have both Pathfinder RPG and D&D 4E (leaving aside for the moment that 4E wouldn’t be called “D&D” in my perfect world), and both would be licensed under open terms (the OGL would do well enough).

Open licensing helped make D&D 3E the success it was. Restrictive licensing has only stood in the way of 4E’s success. This is the kind of lesson I’ll be taking to heart in the future, as I work on an RPG of my own for publication. It’s also the kind of lesson I don’t expect any industry dominating corporation will learn any time soon.

24 March 2009

THAC0 was actually easy to use. No, really. I mean it.

Filed under: Geek,RPG — Tags: , — apotheon @ 03:27

This is part of my RPG series of entries here at SOB. See the inaugural entry in the series for more details.

Lost in the mists of time is the Second Edition of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. AD&D 2E was the edition of the game that immediately (by which I mean “by about a decade or so”) preceded Third Edition Dungeons and Dragons. Back in those days, Armor Class was a number that was better when it was lower, ranging from 9 (if you had no armor) downward. One could have a negative AC, and that was a really good thing to have.

Spike Page at Ubiquitous Orcs asks Descending Armor Class ….Does ANYBODY still use it? The most important question asked there, I think, is not the query in the title. Rather, it’s an implied question. Spike says:

Now I normally consider myself to be just weird enough that I can actually find the bizarre logic behind just about anything, no matter how silly..but this one has me stumped. Perhaps descending AC is legacy rules from some old mothbally tactical historical game that TSR wrote back when TSR used to write such things..or maybe somebody wanted to make the math unnecessarily complicated so that non-nerds would shrink back in fear upon encountering such esoteric arithmatic.

But far be it from me to pontificate about which method of AC numbering is “right” and which isn’t. I certainly don’t mean to say anybody out there needs to change if they prefer the descending method…but I am genuninely curious as to why.

The implied question, then, is something like this:

What’s up with descending AC?

Most people (including Spike, probably), I think, would assume that the implied question is more like this:

Why do people use a difficult, math-heavy system of descending AC?

That version of the question assumes some things that simply aren’t true, though. The THAC0 system used in 2E isn’t any more difficult and math-heavy than the ascending system used in 3E. The problem isn’t THAC0; it’s the way THAC0 was explained in the books, and the fact that for some reason it seems like almost nobody ever noticed how easy it really is to use. I’m not really sure why it wasn’t figured out by more people, many of whom are quite intelligent (they’re gamers, after all).

What follows is a brief description of how you use the ascending AC from 3E.

player: I attack the orc. I rolled a 12. With my +5 Base Attack Bonus, that comes out to 17.

DM: (checks orc stats, finds that this orc has an AC of 16) That hits. Roll damage.

Next, I’ll provide an example of how most people used THAC0 in 2E, because this is how the 2E Player’s Handbook told them to do it.

player: I attack the orc. I rolled a 12. My THAC0 is 15.

DM: (checks orc stats, finds that this orc has an AC of 4, opens the PHB, finds that with a THAC0 of 15, it takes an 11 to hit the orc, forgets what the player said he rolled) I’m sorry — please remind me what you rolled.

player: 12.

DM: Oh. That hits. Roll damage.

Finally, I’ll provide an example of how THAC0 should be used in 2E.

player: I attack the orc. I rolled a 12. My THAC0 is 15.

DM: (checks orc stats, finds that this orc has an AC of 4, adds that to the roll of 12 for a total of 16, which is higher than the 15 THAC0) That hits. Roll damage.

See, the key is that descending AC isn’t a target number, nor is it a means of finding a target number on a chart, as most people thought. No, it’s a modifier to the roll. The target number is the THAC0.

It’s really that simple.

All that having been said, though, I still prefer an ascending AC. I just don’t see that it’s really all that big a deal.

The GURPS system, with its target numbers you have to roll under, is a real pain in the ass, though.

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