Wednesday, May 29, 2019

The Value of What You Do is Your Call

Sentiments like the one to the right, which was the beginning of a contentious Twitter thread about how you should price your rpg work, are essentially well meaning--but I've begun to find them more and more hectoring in tone and frequency.

I agree with much of the underlying ideology at the root of these kind of posts: reaching a state of fair wages is a conversation we should be having, creative work in rpgs is undervalued, etc. (1). But what bothers me is the assumption than anyone has a right to tell me how I should price my work and the unspoken insistence that the primary way I should find value in what I do is economic in nature.

Part of the issue, for me, is that no matter how sympathetic I am to some of the stated goals of this kind of thinking is that it reduces the creative endeavor to its capitalist expression. If "I don't care about the money" is the wrong thing to say, than it must be important to care about money. If "I'm not looking to get rich" is an errant perspective, than looking to get rich must be the correct orientation toward creative work. 

This problem is pervasive in the language used to discuss the topic. Product. Strategy. Loss leader. The assumption is that to create is to engage in commerce. I can think of a lot of reasons to give stuff away for free, none of which have to do with a lack of self-respect or a sales strategy. 

Sometimes I give stuff away for free because I don't think of it as a "product." Sometimes I just want to share something without making a transaction out of it. Sometimes it means more to me that someone finds a use for the thing I made than me getting beer money out of it. Sometimes I want to pay it forward because of all the free stuff I've gotten use out of or enjoyed (2).


But don't take what I'm saying here as prescriptive. The best answer for you is the one you're happy with. I think you should charge as much (or as little, or nothing) for your creative work as you want. $200 deluxe hardcover, $10 handmade 'zine, $1 pdf, pay-what-you-want for a full game, or zero-cost "here's a Google Drive link," it's your choice.


Sometimes I give things away for free (every episode of my podcast, all the posts on this blog, and the occasional free pdf) and other times I set a price I'm comfortable with (the books and pdfs published under the Dolorous Exhumations imprint). I get to make that call because it's my work. I resent being told I should be ashamed to make that call.

The screencaps used in this post are not intended to harangue anyone for voicing their sentiments; the examples I've used here just outline the shape of what I'm addressing, and I've made them anonymous because I don't want this to be a "call out"(3). As I have said previously in this post, I think they're coming from a place of magnanimity and solicitude. But what I ask for is simple courtesy: please do not tell me how and why I should value what I do, and I'd appreciate it if you don't imply that what I do only has cogent meaning if I attach a dollar value to it. appreciate your concern, and I acknowledge that your opinion is well intentioned, but you do you. 


Unless you're pushing that "Devaluation of creative work" line, of course--I totally get why people are dunking on that. That shit can take a hike, especially if you follow it up with some but you're harming the community rhetoric. I'm not putting my hand in your pocket and if you're taking the tack of shaming people into compliance, I'm pretty sure we do not share a community in common (4).

NOTES
(1) - Something I never (conveniently, perhaps) see: any indie game designers note that they pay their playtesters a living wage.
(2) - In fact, much of what I've done creatively wouldn't have been possible save for the generosity of people making free software available. Makers of open source software like LibreOffice, I salute you.
(3) All of the screencaps come from public, non-locked accounts, however, so I'm not putting anyone on blast here. For the record, the four posts I capped came from three separate Twitter accounts.
(4) - I have strong doubts that anyone who has ever played the what about the community? card on me reads my blog, has promoted my creative work, or purchased anything I've made. No one is obligated to, obviously, but it's rich to claim that we're bound by some notion of communal standards of support that clearly aren't reciprocal.

Monday, May 27, 2019

Childgrave

The pulp paperback boom of the 70s and 80s delivered an occasional genre gem, and Ken Greenhall's Childgrave is a prime example of a book whose back cover premise actually undersells its uncanny creep factor. Nominally the story of a photographer who is shocked when his camera captures the shapes of his young daughter's invisible friends, leading him to an isolated community in Upstate New York, this book delivers so much more.
CAUTION! Spoilers abound in this episode. Childgrave is BBfBP recommended reading, so be advised if you'd like to read the novel and tune in later.
What's the big deal about harpists? How can members of the secular society of New York City get back in touch with the spiritual? How much ambivalence is too much ambivalence during the parenting process? All these questions and more will be answered in this episode of Bad Books for Bad People.
BBfBP theme song by True Creature 
Find us at BadBooksBadPeople.com, on Twitter @badbooksbadppl, Instagram @badbooksbadpeople and on Facebook. You can discover where to get all the books featured on Bad Books for Bad People on our About Page.

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Feast Your Eyes

Art that has inspired me lately:

Andrew Mar

 Andrea Sorrentino

 Drew Hayes (from Poison Elves)

Philippe Druillet (from The 6 Voyages of Lone Sloane)

Artist unknown, community college mascot


 Becky Munich


 Santiago Caruso


Toshio Saeki

Satoshi Matsuura

Monday, May 13, 2019

Ultimate Fashion History: The Weimar Republic

Becky Munich, whom you might remember from the cover and chapter art in Krevborna, passed this video about the fashion of the Weimar Republic along to me. 

From the description: "People often ask me which moment in the past do I think has had the greatest impact on fashion today. Without hesitation, I answer; 'The Weimar Republic!'  The 'divine decadence', cabaret scene, sexualization and 'the outsider as insider' of Germany 1919-1933 gave birth to some of fashion's most immediate signifiers.  So WILKOMMEN to this Ultimate Fashion History special."

Check it out:


Also, while we're on the subject, y'all know this is out, right? 
Good god, that cover!



Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Jojen Paste and All Your Other Game of Thrones Needs

"Did...I get eaten??"
With only two more episodes left until Game of Thrones concludes, it feels like Thronz Mania is in full swing. If you need a source for episode recaps, livestream chats, and fan-theory summary, I think you could do worse than checking out the Alt Shift X Youtube channel.

(It also covers other shows like Westworld, but nobody is really excited about that, right?)

Here's my favorite insane theory Jojen Paste: Does Bran Eat Jojen?




Friday, May 3, 2019

A Drug-Fueled Ship Sailing the Silver Sea

(continuing the adventure that started here and then continued here.)

Setting & System: Cinderheim, 5e D&D

Characters: Warleader Kro (human barbarian), Sylvester Tremaine (human mystic), Blatherskite (kenku fighter), Lilai (human cleric)

Events: A lot of time has lapsed since this part of the adventure was played; I'm going on hazy memories here, but this is what I remember happening:

Lilai took an instant dislike to Petros. She sidled up to him casually, then kicked his barbed staff across the room and brought her maul down on him.The group's combined efforts took him out swiftly. That wet degenerate never had a chance.

While exploring further, the party found a kitchen in which robed skeletons were mechanically chopping vegetables and adding them to a simmering stew pot. Warleader Kro ate the stew to no ill effects, although he has now unwittingly committed cannibalism.


In the back of the larder, the group discovered another member of Kro and Sylvester's mercenary band hanging by meat hooks that pierced his ankles. The body appeared to have been drained of blood. Sylvester and Lilai tried to get him down but the body began to shudder and convulse as it came to unlife and attacked. The skeletons from the kitchen joined the fray, but a well-timed turn undead stemmed the tide.

The search for intoxicants with which to fuel the vessel they discovered in the prior session continued. The smell of opium greeted the party as they discovered another young dancer blissed out of her mind in her bedroom. They took her stash, and Kro slung her over his shoulder.

However, Lilai felt that they had unfinished business with Navara. Navara felt the same way; she was waiting for them in one of the central tower chambers. Since they were unwilling to do her bidding, combat witht he group was inevitable. Navara's limbs turned into hideous flesh-whips tipped with demonic barbs. Blatherskite was nearly felled when one of those barbs caught him and sent poison coursing through his body. Lilai was also pierced by one of the barbs, but instead of being poisoned she was cursed. She now bears a demonic mark upon her skin that she is not best pleased by. And yet, Navara was ultimately no match for the party that opposed her.

Returning to the vessel, the group fed opium into the ship's "control maw." Acrid smoke filled the interior of the vessel, which sighed contentedly. Then, suddenly, the ship was no longer in the stone chamber in which it was discovered; it was now sailing a silver sea.
After a few hours, the vessel exited the silver sea and appeared in a cavern. A passage was carved in the rock, and a number of rope ladders run down from apertures in the cave's ceiling where the light of the demon sun streamed into the chamber.


The characters climbed the rope ladders to get some idea of where they were. At the top, all they could see was sand and desert stretching as far as the eye could see. However, they also realized that the "cave" below was the interior of a great statue. The apertures they had ascended through were the statue's eyes and nostrils. The rest of the statue's body was buried in an enormous sand dune.

They descended into the cave to explore and were greeted with a horrific smell that was like a combination of spoiled milk and rotting rice. They surprised the source of the stench as they stumbled into a den of troglodytes who fled at their approach. Sylvester's attempts to communicate psionically were no use; the trogs ran for it and attempted to steal away with their treasury (but only secured about half) before collapsing a passage behind them in a rain of rubble.

Currently, the characters are regrouping within the "cave system" with other passages yet to be glimpsed.