Being Bing: a Celebration of one hundred games of DnD

As of last Thursday, I have now played one hundred sessions of the DnD game I started with my best friends during lockdown. For over two hundred and fifty hours, I have experienced life as a child bard named Bing Whistles.

Before I discovered roleplaying games, I had never had a recurring part. School plays don't have sequels and I wrote few sketches with returning premises. Before Bing, I had not played many characters for multiple outings and those that I did were ones I had little input into shaping.

While the initial concept behind Bing was mine, he was developed with my sister, our dungeon master, and subsequently informed, as we are in real life, by the beings around us. Over the course of our games, I have had to decide how Bing reacts to the deeds and words of others. What delights him? What makes him ill at ease? Which lies is he willing to perpetuate?

After playing him regularly for almost two and a half years, I now have a strong sense of who he is and what he stands for. I can confidently justify actions with a clichéd cry of 'it's what my character would do!'. In this case, the thing he usually does is STRESS.

Oh, Bing is so worried! He worries about his family, his fellow adventurers, the prospect of war... RPGs can be a vehicle for wish fulfilment - you can create a character who is tall, confident, strong. I've unintentionally cast myself as someone small and anxious.

I never set out to create a homesick fretter. As you may be able to deduce from his name, Bing Whistles was a character initially built around a joke. My original concept was that he wanted to be a stage magician*. He lives in an universe where spellcasters abound - and he himself can cast many a powerful cantrip - but what he wants to do for a living is ask 'is THIS your card?'.

The name 'Bing Whistles' is in fact a stage name, one that could only have been generated by a child poorly ad-libbing, saying what they see nearby à la The Brady Bunch's George Glass. It is not a moniker to be intoned with respect or reverence - it's nonsensical.

In short, Bing Whistles was intended to be a little boy pursuing a job which, within a fantasy realm, was very silly indeed. A happy chap with a wholesome dream.

Well, you make plans and God laughs. While Bing would prefer to be known for his closeup magic, the incident of his that is brought up most often is that the first time he cast the spell Shatter, it made a man's head explode. No wonder he's a nervous wreck.

A perhaps unsurprisingly consequence of Bing being worried is that I in turn worry about him. There's a lot of pressure on the little guy. Bards have such an incredible range of abilities that the question for them is not so much 'can I help' but 'in which way shall I help?'.

Bing can use spells to hurt, heal, teleport, deafen, and silence. He can send messages across lands and banish enemies to demiplanes. Within six months of in-game time, he has brought four beings back to life. That is a huge amount of power for anyone to handle, let alone an eleven year old.

However, while he can save the lives of others, he cannot resurrect himself. This is his tragedy. At some point in the game, I will have to stop playing Bing Whistles. That is mine. Whether it's when our party can level up no more or in a battle where his body and soul are irredeemable, eventually I will end my run as Bing Whistles. I and my friends will experience this loss as we would with an actual death. It would be impossible not to having spent so many hours in his company.

I of course hope his final outing is not any time soon. I enjoy exploring the world through his eyes. I am curious to see how he grows. 

To that end, I started our one hundredth game with Bing realising it might be his birthday. He is now twelve!

By the end of the session, he had almost died three times. Plans, God, laughing, etc.

For now though, he lives and I love it. Being Brendan is pretty good but I am always excited to be Bing for a while. Even if I do wish he would learn to relax.


*No disrespect intended to this profession - my grandpa used to be a magician.

Five Things I loved this week

This past week I finally caught Covid. While I certainly don't recommend this experience, it did mean I had little choice but to stay at home and amuse myself. Here are a few of the things that kept me sane.

Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge

I've previously written about how much I adored A Skinful of Shadows, so, even though my generous sister had already gifted me five books (protip: befriend a bookseller), I borrowed this from her as well.

Guilds at war? A girl and her goose team up with a conman? This is very much My Shit.

This is a faux-historical romp with a couple of twists and some lovely concepts (locksmiths run a crime syndicate; everyone in town champions a different would-be monarch). Great fun.

No One Is Talking About This by Patricia Lockwood

An absorbing piece of autofiction that I read in one sitting. It is a novel that brilliantly captures how it feels to be Too Online, most obviously through presenting the story in short bursts so the snatches of thought resemble tweets on a feed.
Initially about the narrator's relationship with social media (Patricia Lockwood herself has multiple iconic tweets), the second half smoothly transitions into tragedy as the protagonist has to pull away from the internet and confront something real. An involving book with a strong authorial voice.

Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman

A engaging nonfiction book explaining the futility of trying to manage your time. It outlines a persuasive argument for the best attitude to adopt if you are to make peace with the limited time we each have on Earth (which, if you are lucky enough to make it to eighty, will be four thousand weeks).

It includes multiple great points that I found convincing, one of which is that sometimes people are not fully immersed in an experience, such as a gig or an exhibit, because they are instead looking forward to looking back on the experience while still doing it.

An accessible interesting look at how to handle life.

Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

I loved Bridesmaids, so this Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo movie has been on my list for a while.

Less grounded than Bridesmaids (which - and this is not a strike against it - features zero talking animals), this film is pure wholesome silliness. There's singing, disguises, and a flight-long discussion of a lady named Trish.

Goofy and joyous. A great pick me up.

Curtain: Poirot's Last Case

This is David Suchet's final TV outing as the Belgian detective and the last novel he needed to achieve his goal of filming the entire Poirot canon. It is a hell of a swansong - a dark tale with a deeply unpleasant unrepentant murderer, a case full of paranoia and jealousy.

The episode sets out its intriguing premise early: Poirot knows someone is set to die but does not know who. Setting the mystery as  as a race against time adds an air of desperation and urgency to the Hastings' gentle chats and eavesdropping. Can he help his ailing friend catch the killer?

The denouement has a few surprisingly devastating twists (and one silly one which is apparently true to the books). A satisfying conclusion to a character whose filmed adventures took twenty-four years to complete.

Thirty Life Lessons

Recently I turned thirty (“Whaaat? But you look so young!” Shush, that’s enough). I have heard two things about this next decade:

a) having experimented in your twenties and tried on many hats (figuratively, but, in my case, literally), you have a better understanding of who you are.

b) if you sleep in an awkward position once, you will be in pain for the rest of your life.

Now, I’m barely one month removed from reaching my fourth decade, so I cannot objectively assess either of these things. However, it would have been impossible to have passed three hundred and sixty months without gaining some opinions on how to do life.

Here then, entirely unsolicited and by zero existent demand, are thirty pieces of advice I try to live by.

Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted.

Our lives are made up of racing and rests. It’s okay to take a break and scroll your phone. Doing nothing is as important as doing something “useful”. If we’re always productive, we will burn out.

Prioritise you and your health over everything and everyone (source: my current supervisor)

It is okay to cancel a DnD session if you have a headache. Your friends would rather postpone an event than you attend disengaged, exhausted, and aching.

If a crucial part of your company’s service would collapse in your absence as you’re a loadbearing employee, that is not on you. They need contingency plans and a more flexible structure in place.

You cannot look after others if you do not look after yourself. To this end…

Use your holiday leave and take time off work (especially if you live in Europe where you are entitled to almost a full month of annual leave a year!)

If you must have career regrets on your deathbed, make sure it’s not that you should have worked more days. Sporadic Bank Holidays and the Christmas break are not enough rest stops in the year to refuel you. Take time off for weddings, vacations, gigs (watching or performing), seeing family, or just pick a random day for a nice day out. Most of your memories should be made outside of work.

That said…
 
Work socials are crucial

If your workplace is anything like mine, your group chat is dominated by talk of scheduling, meetings, logistics – you know, the fun stuff. The times our teams feel closest to falling apart is when we discuss only that. We forget we are friends as well as partners and colleagues in an enterprise.

This is why we need the Friday night hang. The Christmas do. The pet pics on WhatsApp. It reminds us we are more than cogs in our shared machine. We are humans with lives and we like each other.
 
Not all friendships last forever

Sitcoms would have you believe teams stay intact for eight years. These shows usually end when found families part ways.

Some of your friends will leave the city - or the country. After uni, you may find some bonds were based purely on geography or a shared space or purpose. Not everyone in your life will stick around but the ones you endeavour to keep around and, equally, those that actively work to see you, they will be with you forever (or as long as you enjoy each other’s company) because…
 
It’s not what you do that matters, it’s who you do it with

A spa weekend could be stressful if your mate is ticked off. Two weeks in a sunny clime can be nice but your standout memory may be the messing around at the airport.

Some of my best birthdays were not built around events where we get to places at specific times. They were relaxed low pressure hangouts where we looked for something else when we were ready.

And I’m not anti-plans. I’m a rules-loving man who loves A Routine. If we’re meeting up though? Let’s just chat and goof around! Also…
 
Don’t obsess about the pictures

I reached a point where I would be at an event and be thinking of how great the photos shared on socials afterwards would be. This is no way to live.

What cured me of this mindset was pictures never arriving (turns out life can go on just fine without snapshots of me on a stage or at a do). Or worse – images came but there was no single perfect shot. I looked odd or a friend was squinting or it was otherwise unflattering for one of us so it was kinder to not share it.

Not everything has to be marked with a picture. By all means, let’s get a group selfie when we meet, but I accept now that not all meetups will result in a new album on Facebook. After all…
 
Not everything has to be #content

Being online all the time has encouraged us to share everything. In the absence of jokes or insight to offer, the easiest thing to post is things from your life. Whether there is any value to doing this (for you or anyone else) is rarely considered. You need to feed the content machine. You don’t exist if you do not constantly dispatch missives from your world.

I think it is fine to put everything on the web if you want. But what little I have to report, I’ll just share with friends.

Similarly…
 
No one needs to know you didn’t enjoy something

There is more than enough snark on the internet. In lieu of sharing something from your day, one sure-fire way to generate #content is to dismiss something. Denigrate someone’s looks or talent. Write off a movie that SUCKED.

It’s easy. Does it make you feel better? The dopamine hits of reactions may but they are fleeting.

The cliché is true – if you cannot say something nice, do not say anything at all. If I hated a show, you will never hear a word about it from me. However, if I adored something or appreciated an element of what they did, I’ll pass it on. I only put out recommendations.

Wouldn’t you exude that energy? Be an advocate and…
 
Enjoy things unashamedly and wholeheartedly

I find it endearing when a friend is a fan of something to the extent it forms part of their identity. I can only dream of being so into something that the sight and thought of it brings you intense joy.

Granted, if your passion of choice is harmful, immoral, or illegal, I’m less inclined to encourage it, but otherwise, GO FOR IT. Buy the t-shirt, attend the convention. Decorate your life with what you like as…

It’s not a useless or frivolous purchase if it sparks joy (again, granted, unless it’s harmful, immoral, or illegal…)

Look, you don’t need a soap dish that looks like a lily pad (that said, now I’m picturing one, that does seem delightful). If it will make you smile every time you see it though, it is totally worth it.

It’s your money, your choice. So start that collection!

My vice? Blind bag of Lego minifigures. I don’t buy them constantly – I’m keen to ensure they remain a treat rather than routine – but if there’s a series or design that I like, I’ll buy one. I, quite literally…
 
Delight in the small things

When I am on holiday, I take shots of my friends, but most of my pictures are of punning shop names, interesting museum plaques, or baffling graffiti.

It is the little things that stand out. The most inspiring speech may stir a crowd, but if the speaker’s voice accidentally cracked on the word ‘action’, you can bet that’s all I will recall.

Paying attention to details is a crucial quality for most jobs, but such awareness is important generally to ensure you always see interesting stuff. Focus and it will pay off. That applies to speaking too…
 
Have one conversation at a time

One valuable lesson I learnt from practicing improv is that talking is not a competition. It is far more fulfilling to discuss one topic than taking it in turns to introduce your tangentially related anecdote.

I would rather we chat about one thing instead of several even if I have little to offer on a subject. If I ask questions that I am interested in getting answers to, I will never get bored, plus I might learn something. Not sure about this approach?
 
Try it, you might like it

Ah, another irritating bit of homespun wisdom – and all the more annoying because it is true.

In my life, this initial reluctance has applied to pizza (hot bread topped with vegetables mixed with cheese? Sounds weird); table service (don’t make me talk to strangers!); customer support (don’t make me talk to angry strangers!).

As it turns out, pizza is great, stepping out from behind the bar to write down some food orders really helps my colleagues, and customer queries can be like mini mysteries to be solved! Albeit cases where the answer is often ‘it’s THERE. You already have it. You’re just looking in the wrong place!’.

You may actually enjoy bungee jumping, but you will not find out until you leap off the platform.
 
It’s healthy to break routines

Being comfortable is not always good. You cannot stay in a hot bath forever because you will wrinkle and the water will go cold. Some conditions must change.

After the world reopened, I continued largely working from home. I was able to convince myself that staying in permanently was great and sporadic video calls were an adequate substitute for offline human interaction. Being inside was safe and who doesn’t like being safe?!

I have since been convinced to leave my room and commute in a few times a week. I now enjoy the benefits of something crucial for any job: someone to rant with.
 
You need someone to affirm your shared experience

Whether it’s a sibling agreeing that aspects of your upbringing were stressful or a colleague co-signing your frustration that lunch break is mandated for 4PM, you need a second party to go ‘you’re right, that is weird’.

To vent instead of keeping in something toxic? It’s not just for noxious gases – it works for humans too.

If feeling heard is not sufficient, one possible solution to destress...

You need nights off (even from something fun)

Most of our day is spent at work, so naturally we’re desperate to make our nights worthwhile. That’s OUR time. We EARNT this.

Of course, your social life can be as draining as your job if you overschedule yourself. Just because you once agreed to commit Tuesdays to archery practice does not mean you are obliged to attend every week until you die. Grab an early night instead of your kit. Your body will thank you.

Speaking of slowing down…
 
It’s better to be late than The Late (source: my granddad)

People would rather be put out by a delay than mourn you because your haste meant you didn't check for oncoming cars before stepping out into the road.

Semi-related…
 
Work to your own timeline

I am thirty and have only recently found a stable job with office hours. Some of my Sixth Form peers are thirty and have houses / married / kids. Not only do we do things at our own pace, we may not have the same priorities.

Comparison is the thief of joy (source: Teddy Roosevelt). Work on yourself and you will be ready to, should you want it, get into a relationship or accept that promotion. To that end…
 
Continuity can be an achievement.

Continuing to stay in one role or keeping up a hobby takes work. If you find where you are at satisfying, you do not need to level up. Some of us are content maintaining our little corner of the world. I am happy helping run an improv jam. I am not looking to become an improv teacher.
 
It is okay to keep something as a hobby.

Self-explanatory.
 
Accept your limits.

My grandma reiterates in most phone calls that she thinks I should be an actor.

Here is the thing – I know I have a limited range. I can do happy-go-lucky naïve waif or dry reserved dogsbody. I could work on expanding beyond them, but those are my sweet spots.

Would I turn down a run at the Edinburgh Fringe? Well, no, but…
 
Question the Why of your desires

Playing at the Edinburgh Fringe seems to be quite a common career milestone among my performer peers. It is one I too occasionally covet, but when I consider the core appeal of that dream, it’s not the opportunity to be talent spotted nor the chance to bump into Them Off the Telly. No, it is the prospect of doing a show a lot of times. Which I can achieve for way cheaper at the Camden Fringe.

Not that I would ever discourage pals to head to Scottish stages. Not at all! If they want to…
 
Good for them. That’s not for me

Work a job with a purpose

Before I got my office job, I did a five-year stint as a restaurant bartender. I tolerated it in part because it was straightforward.

What do I do? Make drinks. How do I know I have done it well? The drink was correct and made quickly.

It was not anyone’s dream to be there, but you knew at the end of the shift that you had Achieved a Thing. It was also reassuring to remember that…
 
Nothing must be for forever.

I accept that some people's options for change are limited by their finances, location, or family circumstances, but those that you can control, you can change.

You can drop out of the Tuesday night archery because the long drive sucks. You can leave a troupe if there’s toxic people. You can quit your unfulfilling job if the buddies that made it alright have all moved on.

Sometimes stability is not a good enough reason to maintain the status quo. Things change...

People move on (so you have to be self-sufficient)

Relationships end. Friends move away. Your supervisor can change department.

Sometimes you will have to amuse yourself or be in charge of deciding what to work on. Make as many friends as you can handle but accept that sometimes you will have to make your own fun.

Here’s the good and bad news: no one is thinking of you (source: various, but most recently, this Pearls Before Swine comic)

You are a unique complex individual with lots of thoughts and commitments and chores. And so is EVERYONE ELSE.

So yes, you won’t necessarily be on people’s minds all the time because they’re BUSY. However, this also means they’re probably not dwelling on that embarrassing thing you did that makes you cringe at night.

If you want to keep them in your sphere, great! Get in touch, acknowledge the occasional social media post, wish them a happy birthday (only on the day, obviously). If you do meet...
 
Tell people how you are really feeling.

If asked ‘how are you’, instead of completing the ritual with the expected ‘not bad. How are you?’, I take a second, then answer honestly.

It’s important to know what energy or baggage someone is bringing to a room. I won’t know to be patient to someone if they did not tell me they had a bad night’s sleep.

You know why you might not sleep well? Pain, so...

Sit up straight.

You’re thirty, after all. You don’t want to fuck up your back.

My Apology

On Monday night, I participated in an improv jam in which I expressed a clear preference for Digimon over Pokémon. In addition to this, I also shouted uttered an expletive in relation to Pikachu and declared them inferior to Digimon’s Agumon.

I would like to distance myself from these remarks. They were said in character and, as such, they do not reflect my true opinions. While I enjoyed the serialized nature of the Digimon series, I have always been drawn more to the offbeat humour of Pokémon and their quirky character designs.

Far from wishing any ill will to any Pikachu, I have previously stated on the record that I would consider getting a tattoo of their likeness. Seeing a picture of them always makes me smile.

I would like to apologise to everyone I have let down. I also offer a personal apology to Pikachu. I deeply regret the hurt I have caused and am truly sorry.

Keep Your Hobbies Fun: Why I choose to enjoy the level where I am.

'I can't wait to see to see what you do next.'

They were words of encouragement, but they sent me for a spin. Next? I haven't finished having fun with this project, let alone thought of what to follow it up with. I was proud to be making One Good Thing. Now I must devise a second?

When it comes to your career, I appreciate that it is important to always think of where you are going next. A gap in the CV will be questioned. It will look like you do not have ambition or are lazy.

What are the rules when it comes to something you pursue for fun?

I consider myself successful in many areas of my life, not because I have moved up, but because I have stayed still. I have managed to keep some of my creative ventures going for over five years. Keeping any role for half a decade, regardless of whether it is the job that pays your bills or serving as treasurer of the Taunton Crochet Club, is an achievement. If you enjoy what you are doing, why change?

Again, I must stress, in a hobby. If you are a decent employee who adds value to a company, you should ideally get more responsibilities and/or money. Unless you are the treasurer of the Taunton Crochet Club – in which case. that money stays in the communal purse, damnit!

I have previously turned down the opportunity to start teaching improv. This was for a multitude of reasons, the simplest of which is that I did not want to. I like running a show and still find that a thrill, so, although I could do that alongside running classes, I said no. I was less concerned about my continual professional development and more interested in following the fun.

This brings me to the question of what I will do next.

As of 2019, I have written four series of my comedy zombie noir podcast, Dead Drunk Detective. In addition to scripting all twenty-seven episodes, I also cast and direct the show alongside my producer, Katharine*. This figurative wearing of multiple hats means I have a big influence on the project. It also means I am frequently fretting about it.

When I eventually wrap up Dead Drunk Detective, would I want to take on the challenge of creating another show? Currently, I do not know. Then again, people say that about having more children, then some tricksy hormones make them forget all about the pain sufficiently long enough that they in fact do go through it all again.
At least, I think that is what I was taught in biology. I don’t remember – I was too busy shushing my rowdier classmates.

Maybe, after all these many months apart from friends, it would be refreshing to get people together not for the sake of a project, but to just hang out. One of my first podcasts at uni was basically an excuse to invite pals and funny acquaintances to tell me their stories. Now why have that contrivance?

Speaking of The Booth, that panel show was one of my first Good Ideas and a format I really have been trying to top ever since. Eventually, like a lot of creatives who find something that hits early in their career, I took the easy route: I revived it. Twice.

My thinking was that I like doing it, I know how it works, and it is a chance to play with my friends. Most crucially - and now I hit upon a key reason Dead Drunk Detective may be a little more work than it has to be – its release does not have to tie-in with an annual holiday.

Herein lies the solution. Just as with my decision not to start teaching, I should continue to create, but on my terms. In devising a show that must appear on or by Halloween, I managed to make the fraught role of showrunner even more stressful. It was like deciding that juggling swords wasn’t hard enough, so I opted to do it while walking across a tightrope.

If – and it would still be a big ‘if’ even without a pandemic draining my will to write – I do run another series, I will give myself the space to enjoy it. Having no deadlines at all guarantees something never gets down, but casually committing to something might be the way to go. After all, I’m not being paid for any of it.

* Katharine has written a guide to creating podcasts for your business! It will no doubt be excellent. Download the book.

My Five Favourite Pieces from 2020

Ah, 2020. A year in which very little occurred - but only because ONE VERY SPECIFIC THING happened.

I went into the new decade quietly determined to write more. I had neglected this page as of late - most years the number of posts I wrote were in single digits - so vowed to not only up the quantity, but also increase the range of formats I tackled.

The result? I ended up producing thirty-nine reviews, episode guides, and dumb jokes. It was my most productive period for the blog since its inception. Although, admittedly, that is largely because I spent October looking back at every single episode of my spooky podcast, Dead Drunk Detective.

That said, I'm proud of the work I did in the last twelve months. I think a few of the things I wrote are some of the best pieces on the blog. Here is a ranked list of my top five posts from the year (which, weirdly, all were written at the end of their respective months).

5. 'How Tabletop Role-Playing Games got me Through 2020' (December 28th)

My attempt to explain to the unconverted why games like DnD are fun. It also gives me an excuse to promote 'Monster of the Week', an RPG that I love.

4. 'Good for Them. That's not for Me' (March 24th)

Some sincere advice on dealing with jealousy. In terms of career envy, that is. I have nothing to offer in terms of dealing with relationship drama.

3. 'My Secret to Staying Young' (January 24th)

A quick 'one joke and I'm out' piece. My apologies to anyone who clicked the link in hopes of finding out how I keep it tight.

2. 'Five Thing to Know about Improv' (February 28th)

As of 2020, I have been performing improv comedy for five years. That makes me more than qualified to offer some unsolicited advice.

1. 'Passed A Way' (July 29th)

An extremely dumb piece full of nonsensical instructions for my funeral. I started the first draft of this on a laptop which later crashed. Choosing to ignore this omen, I finished writing it up once I was back online. It is a deliciously silly list and I love it very much.

How Tabletop Role-Playing Games got me Through 2020

I miss making up stories onstage. Sure, like the rest of the global improv community in 2020, I now do shows via video chat, but the gigs I am part of usually feature montages of disparate scenes. We often explore the same universe, but we are rarely telling one tale.

While it may be a while before I’m doing narrative improv in person again, I have found a medium that sates my need to devise adventures with friends: tabletop role-playing games.

Much like the improvised quests I devise with The Parentheticals, games like Dungeons & Dragons are focused on collectively creating a story that follow the same characters throughout. Everyone involved becomes emotionally invested in the party’s journey. You wince at their pain and punch the air when they are victorious. It is exhilarating.

I cannot wait to get back onstage, but until it is safe to do so, I am very content with participating in what are essentially private performances. Each campaign is a story shared with only five to eight people. Some groups livestream their game or turn sessions into podcasts, but part of the appeal for me is that no one else can fully appreciate the world in our heads.

To explain what happened during these sessions is akin to telling someone your dream. The significance of events is lost of them. You cannot adequately convey how exciting it is to defeat a fictitious foe. In-jokes are never going to be as funny when explained to someone.

Given the improv background of my fellow players, there is a giddy silly energy to proceedings whenever we play. There are lots of comedy bits and tangents. Introducing an audience however could make us self-conscious. The Observer Effect would kick in.

These sessions have helped me become far more comfortable telling a joke for one person than trying to please an entire room. I still miss the thrill of whipping up a crowd, instinctively feeling when to ride a laugh, but I think I may emerge from this time at home as a less needy performer. I don’t want to be a SUPERSTAR. I am satisfied just making my pals laugh.

That said, I do enjoy how RPGs allow me to do some acting without the rigmarole of pursuing it as a career. The roles I give myself are never ones I would be up for in auditions. No one would look at my boyish chubby cheeks and floppy fringe, then cast me as a po-faced bureaucrat nearing retirement (which is exactly the part I created for a Monster of the Week campaign). You can play characters outside of your age, gender identity, and, if you want, species. As these games take place inside your mind, the only limit is your imagination.

Playing the same person each week makes me feel like I am part of a long-running serialized drama. I have the luxury of being able to settle into a role. Just as in an improv scene, I can gradually feel out which choices instinctively seem wrong. I can adapt and drop quirks until I have a rounded character whose choices are completely different to mine. Brendan thinks running into danger would be a terrible idea. My grumpy monster hunter however…

Admittedly, at times, the line between myself and my creations can be blurred. For instance, in one campaign, I am playing a boy saddened that circumstances beyond his control mean it is not safe for him to go home and see his family. Mostly though, it is a joy to turn up each week and know whatever happens will be fun.

After all, the most obvious benefit of playing these games in these times is escapism. For a few hours, we have a chance to temporarily forget the ongoing numerous crises and instead focus on something fantastical. Don’t think about rent – we have an orc to slay.

I will now stress, for the sake of my parents, that I do also think about how to pay rent.

Right now, in the real world, we are not encouraged to travel. In our imagined adventures however, we can go all over the map, traverse many lands. We ride horses, sail boats, and trek across fields. We hunt vampires and haggle for potions. We can actually hang out in a pub! And all from the comfort of our respective homes.

Holding these sessions virtually is so convenient. Playing together in the Before Times required coordinating half a dozen schedules to find the one Saturday afternoon a month in which we can all travel to the same house. Now we play weekly.

It is a delight to “meet up” so often. Before the lockdown in March, I was already part of one campaign. I now play in three. In this year alone, I have played seventy sessions of TTRPGs. To put that into perspective, in 2019, I played a total of twelve.

The games are such a great way to bond. They are the happy medium between a free-flowing jokey chat of a check-in with mates and the structured fun of a quiz (although both of these have been part of my lockdown too). I finish each week with two consecutive nights of games and always leave them wanting more.

When we can go to each other's houses again, all the campaigns I am in will continue and most, if not all, will stay online due to people living in different cities. Tabletop role-playing games are a major part of my schedule now and I like it that way. They form part of a balanced diet of hobbies alongside improv and making podcasts.

I love having these games in my diary. They have kept me sane. They made sure I’m still exercising my storytelling muscles. They gave me something to look forward to. In other words, they are exactly what I needed to help me cope with my time at home.

The Games that Got me Through 2020

Dungeons and Dragons (various authors. Currently published by Wizards of the Coast)

I am playing two campaigns. One is taken from a book (Curse of Strahd. I’m a big fan of this as I love all things spooky). The other is an incredibly inventive homebrew adventure devised by my sister.

Monster of the Week (original guidebook is by Michael Sands)

Your group is a team of monster hunters trying to figure out which supernatural threat is causing chaos this week. Basically, it’s your chance to roleplay as Buffy and the Scoobies/Mulder and Scully/Sam and Dean.

Goat Crashers (one-shot by Grant Howitt)

A one-page game in which you are all goats trying to fit in at a party.