I’m an avid Dungeons & Dragons player, and have been a Dungeon Master for nearly ten years. For those of you who are unfamiliar with D&D, the Dungeon Master (or DM) is the chief architect of the world in which the players have their adventures. As a DM, I have planned plot-lines, created characters, laid the metaphysical foundations for magic, and constructed worlds from the smallest village to politics on a global scale. Being a DM is nearly the same as being a fantasy novelist, which is part of the reason it was so easy for me to translate my D&D world into The Wind from Faerie. However, there is one important difference between writing a novel and writing for a game of D&D: in the game, characters talk back.
I’ve often heard writers say that their characters have a life of their own, which is a feeling I can understand, but D&D takes the concept to a higher level. Your characters actually have a mind of their own because they are played by real people, and those people bring their own personality and interpretation to those roles. As the DM, I may imagine a heroic end for a mighty warrior, but that plan might change if the wizard decides to join the warrior in his final sacrifice. Suddenly, the scene becomes about companionship against all odds, and loyalty to the end. Even though I may meticulously plan the details of the world, I can never fully account for the free agency of the players and so they always surprise me. I think if I could attain that level of character development in my novels, a point at which my characters go beyond what they were created to be and become the arbiters of their own destinies, then the pages would breathe with life and authenticity.
Writing characters has always been the most difficult part of writing for me. I can easily and joyfully build intricate and authentic worlds, but character creation is the real crux. It is also the most important part of a story. Without interesting, characters, the most exciting plot becomes dull. With interesting characters, we are content to read about anything. The Harry Potter world is riddled with inconsistencies and its plots are simple in scope, but they have become some of the most popular books of all time because they feature a lovable cast of heroes. Even the father and master of fantasy, J.R.R. Tolkien, used fascinating characters to make interesting what might have been dull. The Shire is a land of simple people and country delights, and is perhaps one of the most sleepy places ever conceived. Nothing of note ever happens in the Shire, until Bilbo Baggins hosts an unexpected party. Yet even without the dwarves and wizards, the rangers and wraiths, it is the hobbits who make the shire interesting. Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Mary, and Pippin are wonderful, fascinating characters that make the Shire into a place of excitement. That’s simply good character writing, and D&D is helping me to be better at it.
The surprises that the players bring to the table can be both welcome and unwelcome. It is heartwarming when the players provide a splendid interpretation of what I have planned, but their contributions are not always so appreciated. Inevitably, the players find the holes in my plot, the part of the map that hasn’t been filled in, or take the path I hadn’t considered. Having to go off-script is both maddening and exciting; it invalidates many of my preparations but leads to improvisation and whirlwind creativity. Readers have a nasty habit of doing the same things to my novels. They can always see what I can't, and point out the places where I obviously could have done better. The trick, which I’m still working on, is getting them to tell you these things before the book hits the shelves. Every worthwhile critique after the fact reminds me of my childhood; if my parents knew I was going to break something playing soccer indoors, then they should have stopped me before I turned their favorite vase into dust.
Thankfully, D&D allows me to run simulations of ideas to see how foolproof they are, and there is no fool like a D&D player. Anyone who has played D&D understands; sometimes you enter town for supplies, and leave it in ash having gained nothing. Sometimes even the most well thought-out plans go sideways, and that goes double for the DM. I’ve had players accidentally win in the most impossible circumstances, and somehow create a disaster from the most innocent of social interactions. Characters, like people, can ruin a perfectly good plot. They find the plot hole and exploit it for a cheap victory, or can back themselves into a situation so bleak, you wonder how you’ll ever get them out. They’ll take you to the unwritten places, where you’ll be writing with equal parts excitement and dread. They may even change the entire message of your story. This is not the place to despair. These are the flames which will temper your work, making it, and you stronger.
A good storyteller rolls with the punches, and turns her blunders into victories. The key is to keep making mistakes, and have good people who can point them out to you. I’m learning that a story becomes what it was meant to be in editing, but we have to know what’s wrong with it first. Being a DM is my favorite form of cross-training for writing because it makes me consistently aware of my shortcomings, and my friends are graceful enough to let me improve.