If you write, draw, paint, sculpt, build, or do any kind of creative work, there has probably come a point where you’ve made something and have decided to show it to a close friend. Someone you trust. Someone safe.
“This is great!” they say. “You should share it!”
There it is. That frisson of fear. All of the tiny voices come crawling up.
It’s not ready
It’s not good enough
No one will care
I’m not good enough
This is a set of feelings that I’m pretty sure every creator has felt at one time or another. I know I have. And today I’m going to talk about something that I think is very important and that often gets overlooked when you’re doing creative work (this includes GMing or even playing games):
It’s Important To Be Visible As A Creator
I’ve been listening to a lot of the back catalog of Talking TableTop, a podcast that Jim McClure hosts through the ONE SHOT network. In it, he talks to RPG designers and notable industry people, and they range through a lot of topics. For creators, I noticed a trend–they’d be recounting their history of how they became a game designer, and there was a common thread. Many of them had a moment at some point where they realized: there are people who make these games. This is a job someone does.
That kind of revelation seems simple, but it’s really important. When you’re a kid, teen, or whenever, there are lots of these moments. Everything we use and touch was, at some level, made by someone. When those things are games we love, that means there’s a person who we can model ourselves after. There’s a path to follow.
The more that the act of creation is seen and normalized, the more people will do it–and that’s a good thing.
Without being able to see people making things, it can be difficult to imagine that you could make things. This is also why representation matters in the media we consume. If a black child only sees white people making things, they may assume that they’re not allowed to do the same.
Make Games, Talk About Games, Don’t Stop
More people than I care to count have ideas about how games should work, what they could do, how they could be presented, etc. Most of those people will never do anything with those thoughts aside from share them with friends.
This is my call to you: please talk about the things you care about. Redesign character sheets if you don’t like the ones you see. Write fanfiction if the plot doesn’t go the way you wanted it to. Make up new worlds where people who look like you are center stage. Do these things, and do them where people can see you. Here’s why:
If people see creators try, fail, try, mess up, try, succeed, try, try, try? That’s encouragement.
It’s really easy to get discouraged when you’re creating things. The picture in your head will almost never match what ends up down on the paper. You don’t know the right people. You’re afraid people won’t care.
There’s often this perception that you need permission to do things in a professional capacity. I see this all the time in RPGs and other tabletop games. This is an industry where the line between hobbyist and professional is really blurry and, in some cases, nonexistent. The truth is: no one needs to give you permission to make games except yourself. You just need to decide to do it.
Everyone starts somewhere, and everyone needs feedback and refining. Putting your work out there for people to see gives you access to those things. That said…
There Are Real Concerns Out There
Everything I’ve written here is true as I understand the world. I’m also a white, dude-like person in a heterosexual relationship. I’ve got privilege in spades. By and large, I haven’t had the world telling me no, I don’t get harassed online, and the society we’re in basically tells me I’m tops all the time.
If you have few or none of those versions of privilege, all of what I’m saying to do could be much harder for you. In my mind, that makes it even more important for you to do them because the more people who are not white, straight, cis-gendered dudes make and talk about things, the more people who are not white, straight, cis-gendered dudes will be encouraged to make. A rising tide raises all ships.
HOWEVER, that puts all of the burden on you. So here’s my promise: I’ll support you. If you make things, you have my axe. I’ve got your back, think you’re awesome, and will do what I can to use my voice to help you succeed. I’ll use my privilege as a weapon and a shield.
My Twitter handle is @TheOtherTracy. My DMs are open if you want to talk or need help.
This is a complicated issue, this visibility as a creator. It doesn’t come with instant anything, is hard work, is often thankless, can feel like shouting into the void, and can make you feel invisible for all that you’re putting yourself out there. I promise this: the more voices there are, the less void there is. The more we shine, the less room darkness has. Put yourself out there, if you can. I’m with you.
* * *
Next article, I’ll go back to a more traditional look at game design as I keep working on my re-write of Iron Edda. For now, I’m happy to hear from you in the comments or on Twitter about the awesome things you’ve been making.
Thanks for the inspiration Tracy!
This made my throat close on me and I felt like tearing up.
I’m one of those people hesitant to put my work out there.
I tell myself it’s because no one cares anyway, so why bother.
But that is not true at all. In fact, the most important person in this matter cares a lot. I care.
And the truth is, I’m afraid.
Afraid no one will see and probably even more afraid of what will happen if they do.
But that’s not all of it, of course. If I put my work out there, I feel obligated to put myself out there.
The thing is, I am tired of being a non-straight woman on the internet. Having strangers trying to convince me asexuality doesn’t exist. Or asking me, as a woman, what is my opinion, as if the fact I have ovaries is somehow more important than my life experience, my education or my personality. Or how mental illness is secretly a superpower because pain equals art.
The truth is, I never wanted to be a non-straight woman artist. I just want to be the one who wrote the Witches of Wyrmwald and occasionally does the funny Batman-spoofs.
But both of those projects are still sleeping on my hard-drive, because I don’t have the heart to put them out there.
Publishers still tell women fantasy-authors to pick a male penname so their work will sell better. There’s still people who’s head gets blown wide open when they hear there’s not just the straights and the gays.
So, I feel I have a responsibility to get out there and be part of the representation, but I am tired and afraid.
So, having someone tell me, even over a long distance of time and space, that there are strangers willing to have my back, means something to me.
It also means, if I go out now and show my stuff, someone on the other side of the globe years from now might find it and be inspired.
And to me, that made it already worth the effort.
So, thanks.
(I know this article is from a long while ago, but since it’s still here for new people to read, I’ll assume it’s fine to leave a comment.)