Take off your clothes. Dim the lights and draw the curtains.

Find two coins. Lie flat on your back on the floor before carefully placing each of the coins over each of your closed eyelids. Count to ten. Breathe deeply.

Something happened to you.

Where is the pain?

HEAD (Accusation)
THROAT (Secret)
HEART (Trauma)
BELLY (Regret)
GROIN (Disgrace)
LEGS (Contempt)

Toss a coin to your left.

Rehearse a grandiose and arrogant reaction to your shame.
Spend a moment demanding envy and appreciation.

You’re oversensitive, hypervigilant, easily hurt.
Spend a moment accusing someone of being abusive toward you.

Stop here if you want to win the internet.

Now lean to your right to toss the second coin.

Relive the MEMORY that caused your shame. Now suppress it: bury it deep down inside yourself. Your shame is contagious every time you become angry.

Relax into the pain in your BODY. Rationalise the pain: it’s just a sensation. Your shame is contagious every time you think of another person as being inherently bad.

Unless you choose differently.

Take ten deep breaths. Put on your clothes, draw the curtains; go outside. Every naked piece of you is beautiful.


#Feminism, an anthology of 34 nano-games first published by Fea Livia last year, is available in a second edition from Pelgrane Press. I recommend that you buy it. The graphic design (by Shuo Meng) is the best of any RPG book I know.

Editors Misha Bushyager, Lizzie Stark and Anna Westerling have organised the games into nine sections – Romance, Women and the Media, Body, The Digital Age, On the Move, Playing Well With Others, At Work, Difficult Decisions and Violent Encounters – and refined the description of each game into its own marginalia, thereby communicating at a glance how many players each game requires, how long it takes to play, its emotional intensity on a scale of one to five, what, if any, supplies are needed to play the game, and a number of keywords that indicate the game’s theme. There is no way to open the book without immediately apprehending what it is for or which game might suit your particular purpose. It’s form factor – analogous to a glossy consumer magazine – is inviting, suits being laid flat on a table and subtly indicates its target market and creative agenda.

I tend to prefer those games that either, (a) overcome or undermine misconceptions about feminism by including some of the opinions of those that oppose it (a classical argument), or (b) include a range of inter-subjective opinions about feminism (a postmodern argument), over those that (c) communicate a single point of view with a single idea – but those are my own political sensibilities and I do understand that violence of expression creates its own affect. When I first started reading the work of Angela Carter and Suzy McKee Charnas back in the 90s, it was the violence that drew me in: I needed the dramaturgy of the forced sex change of The Passion of New Eve (1977) and the hybridogenesis of Motherlines (1978) to help me understand the nature and extent of my own false consciousness about patriarchy.

I’ve seen guys of my own age and ethnicity (I’m white and in my mid-40s) say that nano-games, or game-poems, or short games, or whatever you want to call them, aren’t really games in and of themselves, but just an adjunct or a bit of showing off on the part of people who may or may not be able to design a “proper” roleplaying game with mechanics and dice and a fully-realised imagined space. I do not agree with this assessment. Being involved in the 200 Word RPG Challenge taught me that small games reveal a lot about the connections between people and their craving for emotional intimacy. Their brevity is part of their agency, like poems or laughter or farting. I might easily sneak these games into the conversation on a long train journey or into the gaps between longer games at a roleplaying convention: as design strategy, #Feminism is pretty much perfect.



200 logo

There are three wonderful winners of this year’s 200 Word RPG Challenge:

  • Mechanical Oryx by Grant Howitt
  • Memories by Santiago Eximeno
  • Route Clearance by Andrew Millar

Here are the winners and the finalists:

200 Word RPG Winners

I was a judge this year. I ignored things like word-counts or questions like “Is this really an RPG?” These might have disqualified an entry and I’m not here to impose rules and regulations. I tend to prefer games that marry their gameplay and their theme most effectively: those that can do so in 200 words or fewer earn my respect and appreciation. My favourite of the entries I read in 2016 were Meetings by Jaye Foster, The Vampire’s Kiss by Joanna Piancastelli and The Pope is a Space Lizard by Tobias Strauss.

I selected twenty games I considered possibilities to progress before printing these out and leaving them to sit for a few days; I found that six or seven of the games remained in my memory. Selecting four from these was difficult.

These are the twenty games I considered possibilities to progress from the 174 entries I read in the first round:


This is a well-written and well-conceived game. Playful invective and moral force are combined to convincing effect.

I particularly admire the way in which a beautifully-judged three-act structure communicates the breadth and depth of the game’s theme. This is delivered with clarity and emotional impact.

The fourth and fifth sentences offer up the “insecure” emotional space of the TROLL while allowing the player to distance herself from what she is putting across. The ALL IN CAPS second act accurately depicts the lurid “active-defensive” (as opposed to “passive-aggressive”) dominant feature of Trolldom, while the third act ties-off the angry insecurity of the TROLLS raised in the first act – “write down three physical aspects about which you are insecure… DO NOT draw on your own insecurities” – with a conclusive switch between the shared imagined space of the game – “by the name of [winner’s handle]” – with the real world of those playing: “agree never to speak or write as you have done”.


I like the violence of this one. There can’t be many of us left who believe the old “sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me” adage.

I also like the cadence of the game: its shape suggests its theme – a common undercurrent in the 200 Word RPGs I admired – by communicating the attributes of a human relationship inside a dramatic moment.

“You must suffer pain or do something to impact the relationship” feels truthful to me, and more than a little tender, like a bruise or a moment of regret; it reveals that the desire to be in the right is in fact the desire to be liked in disguise. I consider this to be an accurate assessment of human nature.

To Alex!

You could play this in the bar, on the train or on a quite Sunday morning, hungover and full of regret. It catches the full extent of a sorrow while retaining a playful and inclusive air; I like the combination of its 6-6-6 structure and its conversational informality. The prompts are good too.

The Town of M

I’m a bit of a sucker for inventive ways to use everyday objects in games & I’d never encountered using sweets as RPG mechanics. I suspect that it might become difficult to “resolve” things without considerable discussion in the middle of the game but that wouldn’t necessarily stop it from being fun. As someone with a pretentious bent, I also read a coded message about corporate responsibility into the fabric of the game.

The Great Work

I’m also a bit of a sucker for Tarot and I think this would be fun, not least because of the ritual of drawing a card in front of the other players and their waiting to hear what the player said about her great work. I’d have preferred to have seen each player interacting with one another’s great works rather than merely describing their own progress during the third act but this is the sort of game I’d probably play more than once, just for the joy of describing the transformation.

One-Night Stand

This may be the perfect subject for a 200 Word RPG: intensity, sex and dramatic misunderstanding, all turned up to eleven in the space of two hundred words.

I love how it includes the truths and delusions of sex and how playful it is about how either truth or delusion might improve the experience or make it worse. The anxiety and expectation of the moment are present too and the game does a good job of communicating how those emotions might transmute into either disappointment or ecstasy. Or both.

There were a few games in my tranche of entries about the pervasive humiliation of the workplace and the following two were the best of those I read:

An American Workplace

It would be easy to write this off as a rewrite of The Office but I think it successfully communicates some of the agony and the necessity of being at work and of the dishonourable conduct it encourages in both bosses and workers. The mechanics are appropriate to the theme but I feel they could have interacted with one another more fruitfully.

Office Party

This accurately represents my experiences in journalism. I also like that it goes straight for the jugular and pulls no punches about the heavy-lidded competition and insecurity of the corporate structure but I think a little dramatic opposition or variation might have improved the play experience: you sort of get what you’re expecting from off.

There were also a few games among my entries with investigative themes and the following two were most interesting of those I read:

My Alibi

This is the kind of theme that relays itself to almost any audience and can be played in almost any context; the UK Freeform scene does this stuff well and I hope purists won’t be too distressed if I remark that I like that it is both a parlour game and an RPG. The mechanics are well-chosen but their descriptions need sharpening up, both in terms of what happens when and to what purpose.

And then there were none

A well-trodden trope once again, but that’s as much a strength as a weakness: the process is clear but the mechanics get a little fuzzier the longer the game goes on and they put the onus on those playing to provide relevant details rather than providing means of revelation. Almost anyone could play this and relish the details of description, I think.

Measured in Cups

Was there another tea-making-and-drinking game out there? A Google search isn’t turning anything up. It’s a great focus for a two-person RPG, particularly one about considering the range of a human friendship. I like the way this draws out the ritual and forces those playing to consider what they’re doing in terms of what they’re saying and vice versa. I’m not sure about “decide together what caused your relationship to fade”. People often have very different ideas about what ended a friendship, particularly after the fact.

Lawsuits & Litigators

This is a game that states its job and does its job with admirable efficiency. You really could drop it into any PBTA game – and perhaps other games too – and watch it create (a) dramatic display and (b) dramatic resolution. The fact that I know I’d hate playing it means that it’s a good game not a bad one.

Jersey Gore: a game for 4 to 6 players

This does a good job of communicating both the sullen and inconsequential narcissism of reality television and some of the reason why people enjoy it so: it is animal behaviour commodified. I might hate it but I’d probably play it anyway because it’s witty and theatrical.

He say you Blade Runner

This is one of the more complete entries I read: I think it really can claim to be a complete game, despite referring to a well-known intellectual property and being part of a bigger whole. It occurs all on one plane of understanding and I’d have like to have seen some examination of the “What is real? What is human?” theme that underpins Philip K Dick’s work.

Good Morning Magicland

This is fun: never underestimate the impact of playability and re-playability. The mechanics are both joyful and workable and framed by a register that everyone understands. It’s one of those games that would either come alive or not and I think in most cases it would.

Flirt Party Aftermath

This has a touch of the Nordic LARPs about it and I think the mechanics suit the theme: I also think that the guidance about what the players write on the index cards needs to be a bit more precise and that the chair-swapping might get a bit confusing. I like the combination of randomisation and solace.

Fatimah’s Busy Day

Beautiful set-up for a game: “anthropomorphic burqa” is a masterclass in domesticating something that has been mistrusted, and perhaps demonised, by certain forms of Western discourse. The phenomenology of what Fatimah sees and hears and chooses is great too and I love the dramatization of the relationship between Fatimah’s inner world and her outer reality. I also admire the way the author has put the larger truths front and centre without being heavy-handed. I did wonder if everyone taking part should get a go at playing Fatimah, as some of the truth of those experiences may be more evident to the person playing Fatimah than to everyone else.


The doginess is strong in this one: I almost feel the game bounded up to me and playfully humped my leg into submission. What’s worse, I liked it. I could play this over and over with the right gaggle of young people; perhaps the same would be true of playing with the appropriate pack of dogs.

Ghost Estate

This had the best language of any of the entries I read: it’s deceptively playful while actually managing to relay quite a bit of the political register and history of the Irish ghost story. People tend to “misunderestimate” the point of combining terror and humour. Phrases like “SPOOKY” and “NOGGIN” and “wheelie based messianism” made me laugh and sufficiently lowered my defences to give me a moment’s pause about the impact of English colonialism on Ireland.

Stop Reading to Lose

This was the most original of the games I read. I love the way it encourages and then complicates the combination of the external and the internal consciousness of the person playing. The decision to leave vast stretches of space between its pieces of text is pretty great too: this uses the physical constraints of the 200 Word RPG Challenge (no formatting, no illustrations, all plain text and so on) to inform its theme and the dislocated-but-intense feelings it wants to create in the player.

Perhaps the distances between the pieces of text might be varied to better reflect the shifts between descriptive and transformative pieces of narration: there are a couple of points where it feels like the game should shift gear but doesn’t. Some element of the player’s “real” environment might be included at the game’s beginning to assist in its claustrophobic intensity – but these are quibbles, really. Using a short form to render the simultaneous vastness of inner and outer space realizes a major characteristic of science fiction.

Call them game-poems, nano-games or what you will but I’m a big fan of short-form roleplaying games and it struck me that this, the third year of the 200 Word RPG Challenge, had fostered a surprising number of entries that felt thematically-complete. Offering those playing the chance to enact some fairly complex concepts and experiences conveys greater emotional impact than mere performance or consumption, and sometimes in the space of a few minutes or half an hour.


David Schirduan’s 200 Word RPG Challenge is available to download online. Any donations go to Doctors Without Borders.

My games Deconstruction and Vampire Dark made the finals in both categories. I’ve read at least two dozen games better than either and I’m sure there are dozens more. Please don’t tell the judges.

The thing I most enjoyed was engaging with people via the G+ community. The hyper-factionalised world of RPGs can be a strange and lonely place for a newcomer but the occasional outbursts of beauty make it worthwhile.


Sturm und Drang Commentary


I realised after submitting Sturm und Drang that it was based (subconsciously) on a game called The Life and Death of… by John Keyworth, designer of Intrepid. (Sorry, John: sincerest form of flattery and all that.) It started out being called ‘The Romantics’ but modernised itself according to Patti Smith’s precept that the secret of improvisation is rhythm. Not a consistent beat, necessarily, but rain and sun and a buffeting wind, like sex or a mountain walk. It’s pretty impenetrable. Sometimes when you reach out for something new you find something someone has already done.

Sturm und Drang


David Schirduan‘s 200 Word RPG Challenge is marvellous. My entry appears below:-

Sturm und Drang

A game for 2 players

Who if we cried out might hear us?*

Here we are, out for a walk, our post-industrial sigh;
Our nights are made for lovers to hide;
Beneath the sky, those bricks:
Leave them behind, but bring their remnants with us:


One coin, Queen’s head reversed;
Two people, each using the other as cover.
Three parts: beginning, middle and, of course, The End.
Four-Eyes; how shall we remake this spectacle?

Take back the past to shape a future.

Who lived here?
What did they do?
Where did they go?
How did it end?
Why does it matter?

Who holds the coin narrates their piece
Then passes it to their lover.
Transmit, receive;
First one coin, then the other.


All that remains of us is rubble.

Nature is the horror we refuse to recognise:
That’s why she’s beautiful.

Despoil her as she despoiled us.
Fill her empty space with your seed.
Eggs lay discarded on stony ground.

Hold hands!
Sweet fury of sex.
Stories are on the wind.
Rules of language
Punctuate your death.

This is the game worth playing.
Every tower is falling.

* Rainer Maria Rilke