LARP theory – Shoshana Kessock

Your Game Is Not A Nordic Larp – And That’s Okay!

July 1, 2019 by Shoshana, posted in Criticism, Game Design, LARP Discussion and Theory, Not Ready To Make Nice

[Please note: This article was written in 2018 during the height of a debate about Nordic Larp and American Larp. I hesitated at the time to get involved in the debate due to health issues, but now think I’d like to contribute this follow up to the question. Please read with the understanding the information is a little dated, and updates may occur.]

Nordic Larp. What does that even mean?

I had the same question myself when I headed over to Europe for the first time six years ago for Knutpunkt, the large Nordic Larp conference held once a year in either Norway, Sweden, Denmark, or Finland. I had the opportunity to drop myself into the middle of a larp discourse already in progress there, at the crossroads of many countries all discussing the different aspects of the art form/hobby of live action games. While there I learned that the Nordic larp tradition was spreading in a big way, fostered by outreach from the Nordic countries to other larp traditions across the world.

Since that outreach began, Nordic larp and its design ethos and ideology has become a part of many local larp communities, its influence offering tools to designers outside of their normal design choices. This exchange is, at its very heart, a fantastic way to grow larp as a discourse and a design practice and art form, inspiring new creations across the pond. But things haven’t been entirely… smooth in this cultural and design exchange. Not by a longshot.

For the last few years, a growing rift has begun between the centralized (as it is) Nordic larp community and the American community, driven by the way in which certain conversations have been going between the two groups and certain ideological differences. At the core of that discussion is a single idea: Nordic Larp and the ideas it espouses are rooted in a specific tradition, and to take that name and brand your larp that way outside of the community can be a problem.

More plainly: hey, people on the outside, Nordic Larp is not necessarily yours, and taking the name for your own buzz and hype is maybe not okay.

And you know what? For a number of reasons, that’s a really good point.

Your game probably isn’t Nordic Larp – and that’s okay too! Here’s why.

I opened this article with a question: what does the term Nordic Larp even mean?

There’s a lot of answers to that question. And if you think that makes the arguments about the appropriation of the term difficult, you’re absolutely right. Ask Larpers in the movement there what Nordic larp means, and you will probably get a lot of answers that seem hand-wavy and unspecific. However, there are certain key ideas behind Nordic Larp you can point to as being “very Nordic.”

This definition (which is a little long) comes from the NordicLarp.org, a website which focuses on collecting articles, videos, and documentation all about the evolving Nordic Larp tradition and discourse.

Nordic-style larp, or Nordic larp, is a term used to describe a school of larp game design that emerged in the Nordic countries. Nordic-style larp is dramatically different from larp in other parts of the world – here are a few examples of aims and ideals that are typical for this unique gaming scene:

Immersion. Nordic larpers want to feel like they are “really there”. This includes creating a truly convincing illusion of physically being in a medieval village/on a space ship/WWII bunker, playing a character that is very close to your own physical appearance, as well as focusing on getting under the character’s skin to “feel their feelings”. Dreaming in character at night is seen by some nordic larpers as a sign of an appropriate level of immersion.

Collaboration. Nordic-style larp is about creating an exciting and emotionally affecting story together, not measuring your strength. There is no winning, and many players intentionally let their characters fail in their objectives to create more interesting stories.

Artistic vision. Many Nordic games are intended as more than entertainment – they make artistic or even political statements. The goal in these games is to affect the players long term, to perhaps change the way they see themselves or how they act in society.

We’ll come back to some of the elements in this description in a moment, but keep in mind as we go forward the following descriptions: Nordic Larp is focused on Immersion, Collaboration, and Artistic Vision.

Alternatively, Jaakko Stenros, a well-known researcher, academic, and speaker gave a lecture at the Nordic Larp Talks in 2013 about just what is Nordic Larp, a talk that’s been shared the world over. I’d encourage everyone to give it a look before going any further (it’s not that long).

Stenros points out that early on in the Nordic larp scene, those within the community would label a larp Nordic when they thought it was a Nordic Larp – using the “I know it when I see it” method to build a body of work that helped define the later discourse. (And if you think that’s round-about, you’re not wrong). Yet within a few short years, the definitions of what is Nordic larp, while still widely debated, were solidifying to provide a larger context for those outside the culture and within.

During Stenros’ talk, he defines contributing elements to the definition of Nordic Larp. Some of them include:

Larps coming from the Nordic countries (Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Finland)
A social phenomenon and an ongoing discourse focused on playing styles and design ideals, rather than just geography, inspired and informed by other scenes originally such as Fastival, improv theater, and larps from other countries which helped build the basis of the Nordic tradition.
Other elements to consider in this social phenomenon is the migration of influences, social situations that created the creation ground for the tradition, key works which influenced the discourse, social network structures within the key communities, and the people involved.

His stricter definition (influenced by the work done by Markus Montola and Bjarke Pedersen) is (at minute 10:19 in the video):

“A larp that is influenced by the Nordic Larp Tradition and contributes to the Nordic Larp discourse.”

Yup. A definition which is defined by itself. As my mother would say: Oy. Vey.

Please note that Stenros’ entire first ten minutes of the talk or so is about how his definition is not “the answer, but an answer” which he’s sure will be disagreed with, dissected, and transformed within a short period of time. What does that tell us? That Nordic larp was and still remains a shifting creature which is an all-encompassing term for a larger community, often defined less by what it is and more by where it comes from, what basic artistic principles created the initial cornerstone, and then set against the context of what it actually is not.

It’s also important to note that this definition, though I’m using it as the basis of a good deal of my discussion here, is also five years old. And as Jaakko notes, the tradition is ever-evolving. So by looking at the definition listed above from NordicLarp.org and then looking at Jaakko’s definition, the terms have evolved and narrowed down to identify specific design factors as key to the Nordic larp experience. There are also plenty of different introduction videos as well by thinkers and designers like Petter Karlson and others within the scene trying to define and identify what has become a slippery monster of a catch-all design ethos.

“[Nordic Larp is] a great term to describe a wide-cast net,” says Johannes Axner, editor-in-chief of NordicLarp.org and Swedish larper, “it’s pretty useless to describe individual larps.”

It’s that ambiguity, that wide net, which stands at the heart of this controversy. Nordic larp itself is a shifting mirage, defined by all those involved in the process over and over, grinding down the ambiguity to try and distill the essence. That essence is then interpreted, delineated, and slapped on games which run the gamut from block-buster big-ticket events to black box, small-scale experiences. And perhaps that defining and attributing is for more than just design reasons.

“Five years ago, no one cared what the exact definition [of Nordic larp] would be,” says Stenros. “This has changed. The term has now brand value. It is worth something.” This worth is at the heart of much of the argument going on within the larp communities, a brand value which, when attached to a game, evokes a certain response in players looking for that ‘Nordic Experience’ (capital N, capital E) they’ve heard so much about. The brand value, when added to the advertisement for a larp, interests those who have heard about games like College of Wizardry and Just A Little Lovin’ in Europe, who’ve seen documentation about games on battleships and in castles and yearn for something bigger than perhaps what they’re used to.

Similarly, organizers have deployed the branding of “Nordic Larp” or “Nordic Inspired” to evoke the specific school of design Stenros has described in his talk – and perhaps rightly so. These games can be said to have been heavily influenced by the Nordic larp design elements learned by engaging in spaces like Knutpunkt or online groups, or even by those who have hopped the Atlantic to play the Nordic larps themselves.

“If you brand something Nordic Larp, you might get cool indie cred in the US, or you might get some players who wouldn’t have considered going to your game.” Is that really what we’re doing when using the term in the United States? Relying on the branding of Nordic larp to bring in players who might be looking for that indie cred, or else looking for a new hotness they’ve only heard of and not seen elsewhere? I think (in part) the answer is yes. Stenros may have been writing about this in 2013 but in the years that followed, we’ve seen an uptick in games in the US using the term, and those games have been very high profile and considered en vogue right now. And that attracts attendees.

And that isn’t bad. In fact, for larp designers bringing in players from across traditions, having the brand recognition of Nordic Larp can spread a new tradition of ideas to audiences which might never have had access to it before. This especially works for those American larpers who can’t hop the pond or spend the money to attend Knutpunkt, whose finances don’t allow European trips, or whose mental bandwidth doesn’t allow them to engage with ongoing (and often complex and heated) debates in online spaces. Nordic larps or “Nordic inspired” games coming to the US allows people to see just what the (rightly created) fuss is all about.

However, in deploying that brand name, not only are organizers evoking an entire larp culture’s identity, but sometimes imposing their own outsider’s opinion on what exactly makes that culture tick.

It’s coming into someone’s home and asking for a recipe, then going home to make the thing and say their food is the same as the authentic cultural cuisine. That’s been happening for generations, as Americans recreate food (which is a cultural medium by the way) and define what it is and how it should be prepared based on their own internal design/creative choices. Or else they create food fusions, taking traditions and smashing them together to make new and interesting takes on traditional recipes.

And that’s what’s happening here. “Nordic-inspired” games are the fusion food of the larp world, considered pretty trendy, attention-grabbing and fun. Fusion is sexy, it’s mysterious: what can this combination create, bringing together the best of both worlds for something we’ve never seen before. And you know what? Fusion is AWESOME. Fusion dishes are exciting and innovative and create new and fabulous tastes based on cultural exchange. Fusion is a valid and impressive form of food evolution.

Where it can become a problem is where people misidentify or else co-opt food origins altogether for their own ends without giving credence to where it came from, or considering just how they may be erasing traditions from BOTH cultures to create this newly created dish… game…

This analogy has gotten away from me here. But I digress. Let’s look at some of the factors involved in this erasure.

We’ve looked a lot at the Nordic larp tradition across the pond and how it developed, but looking at the other side of this potential appropriation debate, we must also look at the development of larp cultures across the United States. Plenty of research has gone into the myriad traditions and groups which have deep cultural roots across the US, work done by academic powerhouses like Jonaya Kemper and journalists like Lizzie Stark. The United States has decades-long histories going back to the days of the evolution of simulationist gaming into live action spaces, and non-nerd community organizations like Model UN or murder mystery weekends.

These traditions are vast and wide-spread and often developed in tandem with one another over the years. Due to geographic isolation, lack of communication between groups, and schisms splitting communities over the years, different larp traditions have evolved to create design tools that can be both similar to those from other communities and also flavored with their own experiences and innovations. And due to how massive the United States are, that decades-long artistic growth from untold separate communities has created a tapestry of American larp culture which reflects the diversity which makes America what it is today: a complicated, culturally diverse, and often fraught hotbed of inter-community cooperation and friction.

It’s because of that complexity that United States larp doesn’t have a centralized definition, even though many from the outside have struggled and often erroneously attributed one to the scene (if there can be said to be a single scene). “American Larp” is often defined as “a form of roleplaying game where participants physically portray their characters” (Wikipedia) while engaging in competitive play, sometimes involving heavily controlled plotlines, live combat with contact safe (boffer) weapons, and “crunchy”, number-based systems which rely heavily on chance and competition rather than negotiation. American larp is also sometimes split in definition in an attempt to encompass those many traditions by putting them into several sub-categories: live combat (boffer) games, theater style games with no physical contact (like the far-reaching Camarilla Club or Mind’s Eye Society for White Wolf games), and the emerging and ever-growing freeform scene, with smaller and more personal games and less scenography or 360-degree immersion involved.

As you can imagine, these definitions are almost just as broad as the term Nordic Larp, even in their broken down form, and contribute to a generalization of what “American Larp” really is that does no one any favors. One could then instead go in and deconstruct just what design practices are employed by these American traditions, and you do come down (in my opinion) to some important cultural touch points which are pervasive in many designs, specifically:

a reliance on chance rather than negotiation,
a competitive spirit between players and therefore their characters,
a focus on secrets kept by characters rather than open sharing of plots beforehand or during play, and
stories heavily driven by centralized storyteller authority rather than created cooperatively and predominantly by players.

Yet even with these pinpointed overlaps in communities, these elements barely touch the complexities developed in US larps over the years. And many of the games being created defy these elements, operating outside of the definition traditionally ascribed to much of the American larp scene. These games instead incorporate perhaps some of these element – or none at all – and instead employ design choices we might more closely attribute to Nordic Larp games. This includes design ideological choices like cooperative narrative development, culturally important thematics, emotional roleplay focus over story and simulation, and strip-down of mechanics to more freeform design.

In that way, these games have more in common perhaps with Nordic design than with their American counterparts. But that does not make them any less a product of the American larp system. And to say these tools haven’t been employed by American larpers for years now is to erase literally generations of work by talented designers and powerful communities in favor of claiming techniques to a single community. Everyone in larp has been reinventing the wheel for years, but in the end a lot of our wheels ended up looking very much the same, and all doing the same job: rolling the hell along.

But then we come back to branding. And though a game might be incorporating elements which are recognized now during international discourse as “so Nordic,” the use of the term serves to attract players while largely undermining the complexity of the larp development in the United States and the world over. It appropriates the ever-evolving and often ephemeral Nordic Larp label for the sake of defining a game against the ‘American larp scene’ while still employing some of the techniques shared by both communities. And usually for the sake of creating distinction between what has come before, and the new hotness now.

In fact, many of the games being created are not Nordic Larps. They’re games which share design elements with Nordic Larps, elements which have been in use in the United States larp scene forever. And so the distinction belittles American larp while taking the brand of another community for our own. Essentially, it’s causing erasure on BOTH sides and causing further friction between American and Nordic larp communities.

Nordic Larpers express frustration about their culture being taken for profit here.

American Larpers feel under-appreciated, their traditions slighted and ignored in favor of the European import.

And so the fight has simmered, and recently exploded, and here we are.

But we’re missing a fundamental answer to this discussion altogether: games in the United States don’t need to be Nordic Larps to have the same elements. We’ve had those elements all along! We just didn’t have a brand, a label, and certainly not one with as much recognition as the hip Nordic Larp brand. (And I’m sorry for those who bristle under the use of such a capitalistic terminology for an art movement, but it is a brand today, used to sell experiences. And that class/political/economic issue is an internal debate for the Nordic community which has complicated the problem of tensions even further.)

American larpers don’t need to label their games as Nordic for them to be cool, and immersive, and emotionally intense, and freeform. We’ve had those for the longest time. In communities, for example, like Intercon and the Double Exposure communities, larps like these have been evolving for years now. Across the country, we’ve had people discovering these changes on their own. But because we’re not united in a single art scene, we needed a lable. And I believe for that reason, and for branding power, Nordic Larp was borrowed, the tradition imported, the ideology embraced.

Unless these games are run by Nordic teams in the US, even working with American larp designers (such as the teams running Just A Little Lovin’ in the US in 2017 or the newly merged Turtle House, made up of US company Imagine Nation and Dziobak Studios from Denmark), these games remain strongly American.

And I repeat. That’s okay. We can have our own hotness too.

In fact, I believe it is VITAL to the health of American larp and our pride as a larp culture that we embrace having our own hotness. That we work together in the spirit of growing national community connections to create discussions of commonality, and even perhaps create a term for our own adaptations of what traditions people are calling Nordic. “Nordic Inspired” doesn’t really hack it anymore and evokes that erasure again.

We’ve got our own thing going here. Why not find a name that serves to both give credit to the American developing scene and also detach ourselves from the appropriation of Nordic Larp? We don’t need to borrow anything when we’ve got our own sexy fusion going on, ready to evolve our larp communities to a bigger and better tomorrow.

On the opposite side of this argument is perhaps a valid point brought up by Jaakko Stenros within his above video, a point which sits strong in my mind when I feel a sense of irritation at the idea that Nordic Larp has been appropriated. As Stenros says:

“No one owns Nordic larp,” says Stenros in the introduction to his definition. “Not the designers, not the larpwrites, not the organizers. Not the journalists, not the experts, not the academics not the researchers, not the event organizers, or popularizers. Not the web service providers or the editors in chief, not the people who are working to import larp or export larp, not even the players.

“For we all own Nordic larp. There simply is no central bureau of Nordic Larp. And if there was, I can promise you that splinter groups would surface faster than you can say “Fucking fascists trying to limit my imagination to copyright my reality hacking tools, to steal my status and funding, and to take away my fun and misery.”

Nordic Larp in itself not only evolved, as mentioned above, by its creators and trend setters attending other larp traditions and creative communities to borrow techniques, but the community is defined by an ideology which does not belong to any individual group. It in and of itself is built around dozens of smaller communities, each networked together to define their games based on a shifting rubric. So then how can the Nordic Larp community claim ownership of this brand – simply because it’s Nordic? If the idea was to share ideas and continue to evolve Nordic Larp as a tradition, as it has continued to do over the years, then why invite outside input from (for example) Americans only to become upset when that input is given and swapped back to the US. Sharing ideas doesn’t necessarily happen the way one wants, nor produce some sanitized results. Cultural exchange is messy, and getting your peanut butter in your hummus can make some weird results that change the context of both ingredients for mixed results.

If you can’t own Nordic Larp, then is it fair to say you own or control the overall discourse? Especially when that discourse invited in the very voices now being criticized for appropriation? Is it appropriation or a cultural sharing, a blending? Or is it a one-way theft of ideas? That is at its heart the essence of a lot of discussions of what is appropriation in the first place in all media and art forms, and is now being reflected in the larp world, underpinned by a current of fear about American cultural colonization which has existed the world over since America rose to super-power and international media influencer status.

But is that what this is? Is this appropriation or exchange? The debate goes on.

While we fight about the issue, however, are there any solutions to positively influence this contentious debate?

I believe there are three major solutions.

We as American larpers have a vested interest in discovering a new definition for what is coming out of the new evolution of larp right now, influenced as it is heavily by these ideas which appear parallel to Nordic Larp design. Nordic-inspired doesn’t cut it and does little for either us American Larpers or the Nordic community. Whatever we come up with, I’m sure we’ll fight about constantly. But having a brand new hotness all our own to reflect the hard work and in-house evolution we’ve done here in America would let us define ourselves a little more based on American ethos and make us look a little less like we’re blatantly ripping off another culture (which in fact we are not).
American and Nordic larp communities must have conversations, both internally and between one another, about the manner by which people are sharing information, and whether or not it feels appropriative or acting as an exchange. A two-way street is an important start to making the cultural discourse feel mutual rather than either appropriative or elitist, depending on the interpretation of the side of the argument. Americans aren’t coming over to steal ideas and just be prescriptive about their ideas, and Nordic larpers aren’t demeaning all American larp as lesser and imposing their European ways on American larp communities. And if it feels that way, we should talk about why and try to mend those fences, for the sake of larp development and community relations.
Last but not least (and perhaps harder still) is a revisiting of the way conversations about these issues are happening. Individuals are not only becoming burnt out, but there is very little benefit of the doubt happening. Instead, battle lines are becoming highly contentious, leading to many great designers and thinkers checking out of the conversation and perhaps even communities. We are imploding in on ourselves in an effort to preserve what we feel is vital to our identities, and a lot of that is based on the tensions rising and no assumption of positive intent. I believe that positive intent exists, and where it does not, it needs to be fostered to explore our commonalities and embrace our growing future as an international community. The alternative is cultural schism once more, something which has plagued larp communities everywhere forever.

I believe we are on the cusp of a very important turning point in international larp discourse, where the decisions we make now will cement either a continually evolving design exchange which could improve everyone’s games and communities. Or else we’re going to continue fracturing under the weight of our factionalism and concerns about appropriation and political/ideological entrenchment. And if that happens, what we will lose is the chance at a brilliant future of creation together that could be wonderful, if allowed to flourish and survive.

The decision on how to proceed is largely in our hands. We just have to communicate and do the (often) hard work to get us all there together.

The Emotional Ledge and Larp

January 14, 2019 by Shoshana, posted in Game Design, LARP Discussion and Theory

It’s been a long time since I wrote something on this blog, and there’s good reason for that, which I’ll be getting into in another post. However, after attending the Midwinter Gaming Convention this weekend, I had some rambling thoughts about live action games I wanted to put together before they all slipped away.

Let’s talk about those squishy things you don’t like speaking about at parties. Let’s open up and talk about feelings.

A group of players stood in a circle in the middle of a fake party. One held a tiny green container full of viable human embryos. Well, not really. They held a tiny vial of green liquid stuffed full of tiny plastic baby dolls whose legs had been cut off (the funny things we make for larp). The player stood in a circle and discussed just what they should do with these embryos. Some wanted to take them, bring them to maturity, and raise them as their own. Others wanted to destroy them. And still others wanted to turn them over to the highest bidder. It was an emotional conversation among the most unlikely of custodians of these future babies. You see, each of the players in the conversation were playing robots recently brought to sentience who had become the inheritors of mankind’s future.

These players were the first to ever try my newest game AFFINITY, a game about sentient robots inheriting humanity’s legacy when the human race is dying out. Think CHILDREN OF MEN meets AI. It’s been a passion project of mine for several years to see this live action event come to fruition and finally we had a chance.

I listened in on the conversation as a Non-Agency Character, a character played by a staff member meant to steer the story a little and keep the plot moving if necessary. But really, I didn’t need to do much during this game. The players had embraced their new Mechanica characters with both hands. They stood and discussed humanity’s future while outside they knew a human’s first hate group was closing in on their location to murder them. They had to escape.

And as I listened, one character named Cassandra gave an impassioned plea for keeping humans alive, because how could they truly learn and understand feelings and emotions if the originators of that sensation were to die out.

Just as Cassandra gave her speech, the music for our fictional party changed. The Beatle’s “Hey Jude” started to play. As Cassandra made her plea, two of the other Mechanica named Joy and Watt took each other’s hands and began to slow dance. And I sat in wonder at a small moment that touched me down to my core. Because all I could think was, “You can’t write spontaneity like that. And you can’t write emotion that comes from nowhere.”

There was only one word I could find in that moment: profound. It was profound.

True emotional moments in live action games are a gift. And they are a gift given by the spontaneous expressions of one factor bouncing off another, of the improvisation + character immersion + opportunity. That’s always been my formula for seeing real deeply beautiful, powerful moments come together in a larp. However I’m now starting to understand there is another piece of the puzzle we must have to make it all come together: feeling. And now just the surface level emotion we throw out for games. I’m talking about the kind of emotion that makes us vulnerable, the kind we save for our most precious moments or unexpected outpourings.

These emotions aren’t always expected. We may come into a game believing we are going to keep our emotions to ourselves, just play the game, and leave without getting too embroiled. But many times we find ourselves embracing those offered opportunities and something strikes just the right nerve, and we’re off to the emotional races. Other people come in expecting emotion, seeking it, and when the chance comes grasping it with two hands. It’s that kind of emotional preparation that can provide the opportunity as well and the character immersion into emotion that offers up chances for profound moments. But in many cases, those long preparations into character or bracing one’s self and stating in advance that one is seeking emotional role-play (saying things like “I can’t wait to cry all weekend” or calling one’s character a suffer puppet) sets expectations about the emotional weight of a game that might not be filled.

I have a suggestion inspired by what I saw this weekend: radical vulnerability. Instead of preparing for the emotional expectations of the game, or the character’s emotional journey to begin, or even planning your character’s plot trajectory, prepare yourself instead to step out into the space and just open up your emotions. Be ready to feel whatever comes and roll with the experiences that come with it. And in the process, be ready to feel things you may not have expected, good and bad. Be ready to be touched by those emotions and have them leave marks.

Experience them together with others or alone in the quiet moments. Experience them in combat scenes or dinner parties, long walks in a forest or in a wizard classroom. Because larp still is about improvisation + character immersion + opportunity. But now embrace a frightening fourth, a hot potato that asks you to unlock parts of yourself you might not be entirely comfortable with, or even entirely explored. Here you are, and you have a chance to tap into that place when at game.

There are caveats and concerns for radical vulnerability as a process when at larps. First, there is a chance you might encounter some serious emotional bleed when pursuing this kind of openness. Bleed meaning the emotional conveyance of either your real life emotions in character or your in character emotions out of character. Radical vulnerability makes the chance of of bleed very high and so players must consider this before engaging this practice. I’d say it is necessary even to embrace metatechniques which help to deroll (deconstruct the experience) afterwards in a safe and comfortable environment.

Another consideration is the idea that larp is not therapy. There is a great deal of a difference between coming into a larp with an open emotional slate for experiences and coming to a game aiming to explore one’s deepest emotional traumas with your fellow players as part of your attempt to exorcise your demons. There are a lot of discussions going on about whether it is fair to other players to come into a game to attempt therapeutic catharsis if other players have not opted into being part of that kind of experience. But for the sake of the idea of radical emotional vulnerability, that is not the intent of this experience.

That being said as well, this kind of vulnerability might not be for everyone. People who already feel as though they are in an emotionally shaky place (either for temporary reasons or due to neuroatypical or emotional/mental issues) may find this kind of vulnerability uncomfortable or even destabilizing. This technique is not, repeat not, suggested for everyone. There are those who might simply find this kind of vulnerability too uncomfortable. Choosing not to engage in it does not in any way invalidate any other kind of engagement with larps. It’s just a suggested tool and nothing else.

The last issue is this kind of vulnerability might bring up emotions previously unexpected during play. There are techniques which allow players to check on one another during play if someone seems in distress, as well as allowing yourself to leave the game if needed to reassess, take care of one’s self emotionally, or just leave if things become too overwhelming. This kind of self-check in and community care becomes vital the more open and emotionally vulnerable one allows themselves to become.

I believe this concept of radical emotional vulnerability is not new. It has been spoken about by other blog posts and larpers for ages. But as live action events pass more into various forms, including forms like immersive theater, I believe the chance for emotional vulnerability on this scale (with the proper safeguards) can open up experiences as vehicles for all kinds of unexpected emotions created not by the spectacle provided by the event’s creators, but the players themselves thanks to their willingness to step off an emotional ledge.

Declaration of Larp Independence

March 16, 2018 by Shoshana, posted in Criticism, Game Design, LARP Discussion and Theory

Okay, let’s face it everyone: America is kind of a terrifying place right now. It’s a country full of political infighting, awful rhetoric about nuclear proliferation, with a… severely problematic person in the White House. Every day as an American is an exercise in maintaining calm in the face of catastrophic governmental change.

Yet in the face of such horror, there are people who are standing up against such forces. They remember the idea that was America, the ideology that sparked a revolution to turn a group of British colonies into their own nation. And as problematic as that history is (and it really, really is), there are some ideas in the documents of the founding fathers of America that have some great ideas.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

– Thomas Jefferson, Declaration of Independence

The Nordic larp world is known for its manifestos. From the serious to the tongue-in-cheek, manifestos provoke thought, even anger and irritation, among communities. They’re the voice of an idea given documented form, meant to share and debate and spark creative thought. The Nordic Larp scene has a lot of these manifestos. But I hadn’t seen that many which were very, very American.

So I decided to write one.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident-

That all men, women, and otherwise are created equal in the sight of the community of play.

That no man, woman, or otherwise is less or more than another, but stand shoulder to shoulder in the state of play that we enter to enjoy live action games. From player to organizer to business person and crafter, from the newest member to the longest-lived antediluvian of a group, we stand as a community at play, at once equal to one another in value and worth. By action alone does a member earn further respect, and yet this remains not to set them above or apart but to better the community as a whole. For without the community of play, the individual can achieve nothing alone.”

Welcome to the Declaration of Larp Independence (downloadable here). Based on ideas many larpers would call “very American,” it tackles the issues of equality in the larp community, responsibility towards said community, and more. May there be more American manifestos in the future. After all, we can’t let down the red-white-and-blue, can we?

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LARP Traveller Diaries: Just Fly

May 17, 2016 by Shoshana, posted in Geek Culture, LARP Discussion and Theory, LARP Traveller Diaries, Uncategorized

Hello blog readers! It’s your old friend Shoshana Kessock returned to her website from a long hiatus away from blog writing. I’ve had a lot of projects on my plate keeping me away (which I’ll cover in another post) but right now I’m debuting this brand new idea I’ve had for organizing the thoughts that I toss out there into the internet-world.

A while back I came up with a heading system for the blog, with a series of posts called Not Ready To Make Nice about issues I wanted to speak about. Well, here’s the second heading, called LARP Traveller Diaries. Here I’ll toss out some ideas about LARPing and experiences I’ve had at conventions and games wherever I find them. I’ll share thoughts on individual games, experiences, and larp theory that comes up in my head.

We’re going to start right off the bat with my first post of the series. Let’s dive in!

Calendar fragment with half-opened sheets in different angles — “I can schedule a freak-out five days from Sunday.”

I have a crazy looking calendar. These days with a lot going on, I schedule my life down to the hour sometimes. 8AM wake-up, groan for ten minutes about waking up, medication self-care time, up to breakfast, on to work, etc. As someone who used to be very willy-nilly about their time management, I learned the uses of scheduling and it’s improved my appreciation for my time and everyone else’s. Scheduling taught me the value of a little preparation giving me the jump on all the things I want to do in my life.

So it’s a little surprising even to me that when it comes to going to LARP events, I like to approach things completely the opposite.

I enjoy going to big event LARPs, the Nordic or Nordic-inspired LARPs that provide big budget experiences for one weekend. They’re the equivalent to me of going to a five-star restaurant as opposed to going to a favorite joint or cooking at home. With these big-budget LARPs costing a pretty penny, most people will only go to one or two in a long while, and the LARP becomes a major experience. It becomes an event that I look forward to on my calendar, the weekend when I go and immerse myself in a weekend of BIG LARP FUN. And of course, other folks start to get excited too. Months in advance people online are talking about the game, getting hype for the fun we’ll have.

And then… then for me comes the anxiety. See, for me, hype can go over the line from fun to anxiety.

I recently signed up to play New World Magischola, the wizards-and-wands Harry Potter-inspired American LARP created after the monumental success of College of Wizardry in Europe. The company behind NWM, Learn LARP, has worked diligently to create a hell of an experience, and for months in advance there’s been Facebook groups, applications to fill out, and character connections to make. There’s not a single day I’m not waking up to a new message about the event on Facebook, especially as the game date approaches. At first, the messages helped build up excitement in me. Everyone else is so into this, I said, it’s going to be great! I saw players I knew from LARP communities around the world were signed up for my weekend, and I started to read more about the setting, the costumes. I got picked to play a professor, and I was jazzed to bring my brand of Magical Ethics class to the unsuspecting students, mwahahahaha.

1414833290132_wps_10_Film_Harry_Potter_And_The — Not this evil. I promise. Really. Don’t be afraid.

But as time went on, and there were more and more posts, I found myself falling behind. I’d recently got a new job with John Wick Presents writing full-time and I was working on a myriad of other creative projects including my own LARPs. I cut down on the time I spent on Facebook and focused on work and friends. Then, when I had time, I’d check in on the NWM prep, only to find so much information I’d already missed. People were playing scenes online, plotting previous character relationships that lasted years. I started to get a creeping feeling in my stomach: was I going to be unprepared for game? Was I going to come in at a disadvantage?

I started to feel like I was actually a kid heading to a new school for the first time.

Nobody wants to be the kid who forgets their homework, or the kid who doesn’t have a place to sit at lunch because everyone’s already with their friends. And nobody wants to be the LARPer who travels to a brand new game only to find everyone’s already buddies and you’re on the outside, looking in at the fun. As time went on, the New LARP Butterflies started to kick in.

It’s about then that I instituted my handy-dandy anxiety-busting New LARP rule list.

Was I excited about the game? Yes.
Did I like the premise? Yes.
Did I have any concerns about the safety of the game? No.
Was the game accessible to me? Yes.
Did I have any other conflicts that would make me concerned about my experience? No.

With these questions answered, I instituted Emergency Anti-Larp-Anxieties Answer #1:

Just Fly.

The quote comes from the first Christopher Reeves movie, when Superman catches a distressed plane in his very first heroic act. The co-pilot is freaking out trying to figure out what’s going on, how they’re not crashing, wants to know all the details. The pilot, who spotted Superman under the wing, can barely believe what’s going on. But he’s not going to look a gift flying-man in the mouth and tells the co-pilot, “Fly. Just… fly.”

LARP anxiety, especially in new groups, I believe is rooted in the old performance anxiety with a dash of first day at a new school-itis. You don’t know what to expect, not only from the game setting and mechanics or from your own roleplay, but you don’t know how you’ll interact with those around you. Will they accept me? Will I have a good time in this new place? Is it going to be worth all the work I’ve put in? Will I be disappointed?

It’s been my experience that disappointment usually occurs when reality and expectations don’t meet. When the hopes I’ve had about a LARP experience don’t mesh with what actually goes on in game, I walk out with a sense that something was missing. Except perhaps there was nothing missing at all! Maybe I just wanted one thing and got something that was equally awesome, but I was so busy worrying about what I wanted that I didn’t embrace what I had. Planning before a LARP for me then becomes a series of ways to set expectations which then distract me from what happens, right then, in the moment. It makes the game about what will be, instead of what is during play.

I had this issue during College of Wizardry and I wrote a lot about it in my article about how LARP can turn you into an asshole. A lot of my difficulty with College of Wizardry is because the adventure of the weekend didn’t meet my rosy-cheeked optimism of playing in a Harry Potter world. I wanted to be the plucky heroine, and ended up playing the kid who got picked last for dodgeball. Instead of embracing the play right then, I got stuck on what I’d prepared for and thought of and worked for before game. I questioned whether if I’d prepped more, played more scenes with others, built more relationships, if I wouldn’t have had a better time. In the end, I recognized that it was expectation that had soured my experience, and that’s where my rules of New LARP were born.

cow3 — It’s understandable. I mean, admit it: we all want to be Harry Potter. Above: The minute you realize you are not the LARP protagonist.

I’m going to New World Magischola with just enough prep in place to be comfortable. I have to prep lesson plans, sure, because I’m faculty. I’m going to talk to a few people about how we know one another in advance. But that’s about it. I’m going to read the game document. I’m going to chat online a little. But otherwise I’m approaching play with a “Just Fly” attitude. I’m shucking any comparisons to College of Wizardry because this game is its own creature, and I don’t want to set false expectations by equating the two falsely.

I’m just going to go to New World Magischola and be Thessaly Kane, professor. I’ll show up and I have no idea what’s going to happen. None at all!

And that’s okay. In fact, that’s great for me.

Because otherwise, I turn into THIS.

stressed-about-wedding-planning — Except maybe a little less put together.

Now for some people, the “Just Fly” attitude makes them anxious. Showing up this way makes them feel unprepared and nervous, so prep helps them. That’s cool. As a friend says, you do you, boo. As long as there’s room for both our prep styles, we can both have a kickass time at the game. As long as there’s no expectation that you HAVE TO prepare so much in advance. That one is better than the other. And nowhere have I encountered anyone saying you have to do tons of preparation for New World Magischola. When we arrive game day, we’re all equal in the eyes of the LARP gods, ready to have a kickass weekend.

New World Magischola is coming up in June, and I’m ready to fly. But in the meantime, I got other stuff to do. I’ll pack my bags maybe a day before I get in the car. I ordered a couple of new props and read the rules. And I’m chatting online a little. But otherwise, game will happen for me at game. I’ll come in a blank slate, ready for whatever comes. And that’s what makes me a happy LARPer. Everyone else should do what makes them happy LARPers too, and it’s going to be a great game. As long as we all remember: nobody’s way is better. We all prep for our fun in different ways.

Besides, we all have one worry we can all agree on anyway: how am I going to pack all this stuff for game?!

431019_783250233253_2048161822_n — “Just one more bag, guys, I promise!”

Ah well, some LARP worries can’t be solved by cool movie quotes. But one problem at a time.

Video: “Ethical Content Creation and The Freedom To Create”

May 31, 2014 by Shoshana, posted in Game Design, LARP Discussion and Theory

I’m excited to announce that the video of my short TED-talk like Nordic Larp Talk in Gothenburg 2014 has gone up. The topic is “Ethical Content Creation and The Freedom to Create” which was based on my research for my article on ethical content creation in the WyrdCon Companion Book for 2013. I’m really proud to have been included in this brilliant event, and encourage folks to check out the other Nordic Larp Talks for this and year’s past.

Exploratory or Exploitative: LARP as Emotional Tourism

June 23, 2013 by Shoshana, posted in Game Design, LARP Discussion and Theory

Not long ago I went to Knutepunkt, the Nordic LARP convention held outside of Oslo. As I mentioned in a previous post, it was probably one of the single most transformative trips of my life. One of the reasons for that was the intense level of thought it forced me to put towards LARP design. It made me consider, among other things, why I love LARP more than other gaming forms. I came to the understanding through that week that I adore LARP because of it’s ability as an immersive, performative form to allow me to experience life through a different lens for a little while. It gives me experiential knowledge of being inside a simulated environment that is tactile, sense-based and interpersonal in a face-to-face setting. That to me makes LARP, above other kinds of roleplaying games, a special kind of interactive experience.

Yet one of the ideas brought up at Knutepunkt and later when I returned to the US was the idea that LARP could be a form of emotional tourism.

What does that term mean? Emotional tourism is the idea that a person steps outside of their comfort zone to go to another part of the world to ‘live’ for a little while in the boots of another person. Sometimes that can be benign, like going to couch surf on someone’s futon on the other side of the country to see how people live there (see: house or apartment swapping). Yet the negative use of the term emotional tourism usually is leveled at folks who will travel somewhere less prosperous in an effort to experience how other people less fortunate or more at risk live. People seek out these experiences to be shook up out of their comfort zone, to really feel what it’s like to not live a safe life, and can be considered exploitative, the mark of the privileged trying to assuage guilt rather than really learn anything. Examples I’ve heard bandied around are rich children going to tour refugee camps in foreign countries, or volunteering to build houses in impoverished areas while ‘roughing it’ with the locals for a little while.

The term emotional tourism interests me on a completely different level – isn’t it good to be trying to help other people, even for a little while? – but putting that question aside, I was perplexed by the idea that LARP might be considered emotional tourism. Are LARPs a way to emotionally experience something that you don’t have in your every day life? Yes, perhaps. So is that exploration then or exploiting situations that aren’t our own for recreation? And is it one or the other?

Let’s build a scenario: LARP organizers decide to do a game based on a real-world serious topic, such as the plight of immigrant workers in the United States. The idea of the game is to have players work through the confusion of giving up everything you knew to find a home in a new country, especially if you have to seek that new home by dangerous and illegal means. The issue is a hot button one, so the designers abstract the game. They make it about two no-name countries in a heavily industrialized cyberpunk future, in which a non-technological country is going bankrupt and people must flee to a better land where they can get jobs. Players play the game on a camp site on the edge of a small city and must cross the acres of land to reach a checkpoint into ‘the city’, living by their wits to survive and get to their new promised land. Through the experience, players emotionally get in touch with feelings of isolation, uncertainty, guilt and a myriad of other feelings while getting a look at big issues like bigotry, immigration, economic issues, violence and nationalism. At the end of the game, they walk away from the game with a new look at these topics, so closely mirroring real world concerns through a game setting.

Now, one could say that the players are signing up for a weekend of ‘fun’ to experience these things, and that optional sign up and the implication that the experience is recreation for the players makes the game somehow more exploitative. In the real world, folks who experience the race for a better life across the US-Mexican border aren’t doing it because it’s a ‘fun’ artistic experience they’re having on a weekend with their friends. Yet players of a LARP can opt in to the game atmosphere to get a taste of these situations as a recreational activity. If the events become too intense, there is always the option to step away and return to their everyday lives, a fact that those in the actual situation cannot do. Is it then exploitative to take these real-world scenarios and parrot them in games for the exploration of gamers?

The question isn’t for LARP alone. Games which mirror real world content, such as first person shooter war simulations, by the same token could be considered emotional tourism as players are given the opportunity to ‘feel’ what it’s like to be in a battle. Yet it’s the immersion and live element of LARP that makes the question more immediate. Where the controller and video screen creates a medium boundary between the player and the world they’re experiencing, a LARPer does not have that medium between them and experience. Therefore the emotional intensity level can be ramped higher due to direct interaction with the intense environment.

I feel like perhaps this is the reason why roleplaying games have focused so heavily on fantasy content for so long. It’s easier to discuss questions of real-world issues when given a separating medium between you and the content. It’s easier to talk about racism when discussing the hatred between elves and dwarves in Lord of the Rings, or questions of slavery when playing in a post-apocalyptic setting like Dystopia Rising. Without that filter, I believe people encounter a discomfort with engaging with these big problems, especially when it could be construed from the outside – or even the inside – as emotional tourism from a place of privilege.

My answer to the question of whether LARPs might be emotional tourism is simple: yes, they might be. But they don’t have to be. The idea behind emotional tourism being a bad thing comes down to a question of intent. First, players come to games for many different reasons. Sometimes, it’s to emotionally express or experience. Sometimes, it’s just to hit lizard folks in the noggin with a latex sword.* But even if a player does go to throw themselves into a role, the reasons behind it are not always for exploitation of the plight of real world people. A player might go to experience something that helps them explore themselves, their feelings, and a new atmosphere that teaches them rather than lets them get a vicarious thrill. It’s that difference – the educational experience versus the vicarious visceral one – that sets the line in my eyes between exploration and exploitation, and that keeps me from feeling uncomfortable with the notion of LARP being the negative kind of emotional tourism.

Is this a cut and dry answer? No, it’s almost identification by degrees. But with more ‘serious’ games being run by the year – thanks in no small part to the spread of the Nordic LARP and freeform traditions into other countries – we are seeing more real world topics being tackled in ways that are devoid of fantastical medium, or at least more thinly veiled than ever before. Designers must, in my opinion, carefully consider why they’re creating their games and how they are representing these real world issues so as to keep from treading over that fine line into exploitative territory. Emotional experience is not a bad thing on its own – like many other things, it all comes down to the design.

* (Just kidding folks – don’t hit people in the head, that’s generally frowned upon).