GojiBean
Your resident irradiated Kaiju King
Hoyo peeps!
I hope I'm not alone in this. But at various times in my roleplaying life I've come up with posts I felt were perfect. They were highly detailed, intricately woven with past posts and details, and the dialogue felt spot on. And yet, when I posted everyone had an underwhelming reaction. Like it was just another post to read and respond to rather than the result of hours of thought and effort laid bare.
If anyone else understands or can relate to this feeling, this tutorial's for you.
What was the issue? I forgot to hold back.
What does it mean to hold back?
Let's dive in!
Holding back means to withhold information or details from the reader for the purpose of building anticipation and/or narrative tension.
It's that simple.
You know everything about every post you make by the time you post it. But, it's important to understand that the other participants don't necessarily want or need to know the same information you do. In fact, it's better if they don't.
But why?
Let's use a hypothetical:
You're the GM of a roleplay which has been going for the past year. You've bonded with your roleplay partners and everyone's having a great time and looking forward to every new post. Finally, it's the moment you've been waiting for. You've been dropping tiny hints throughout various posts in the recent past leading up to this one big moment where your character overcomes one of the major obstacles to their personal journey. And as the moment arrives you lay it all on the table. There's a big battle to overcome a villain of your character's past. Your character fights valiantly and is almost defeated only to pull off a maneuver they've been practicing in secret which lands the killing blow. The villain lies dead at their feet, and the weight of the world which had been haunting your character for so long finally is allowed to roll off their shoulders as they drop to their knees and relish the relief which washes over them. And you describe in the most intricate detail of your life how it feels and what it means to your character to be free of this villain's shadow at long last.
After everyone finishes reading they say it was good. And then they start working on their responses. And when their responses pop up in the IC thread they're happy for your character, but otherwise they seem to ignore the depth of emotion you just poured out and are focusing on making sure everyone's okay and regrouping to get the hell out of here before any more trouble shows up. They don't gather around your character after the big moment. They don't congratulate them on the victory. They just gather everyone and say "let's get moving."
But, was that the reaction you were hoping for? "That was good?" And suddenly it's just business as usual with everyone responding in a way that ignores all that emotion you poured out? All that build up. All that planning and effort for "that was good?" This was supposed to be the moment for your character. The climax to their personal inner journey. The moment where they finally can let go of their personal demons and awaken to who they were always meant to be. But this is all we got? "That was good?"
Why didn't it land the way we were hoping?
We forgot to hold back.
We used so much description and dumped so much information into this post we forgot to leave the intangible unspoken. There's nothing for the others to really react to at this point because they, OOC, know exactly what your character is going through now and what this meant to them personally. The investment in the idea of "are they okay" is gone. They know your character is okay. Emotionally, they're better than they've ever been. So, why worry? Why give anymore attention to the known quantity that is your character's state of mind?
All the information about what was felt should have been withheld, hidden behind the actions of the character.
Remember the axiom "Show, Don't Tell?" This is a perfect case study as to why it's such an effective axiom and so highly pushed for by writers of all mediums. It's the literary personification of what it means to hold back.
But why?
The benefits are many. And most of them are in service to your fellow roleplay participants.
For starters, holding back gives the participants (and their characters) the benefit of having to work for their meal, as Andrew Stanton (creator of Finding Nemo, Wall-E, and other amazing stories) would say.
Andrew said in a Ted Talk (which is on YouTube if you want to check it out) "The audience actually wants to work for their meal. They just don't want to know that they're doing that." (He also opens that Ted Talk with one of the funniest, but most effective short stories I've ever heard)
Using Andrew's Ted Talk short story as an example, the punch line comes out of nowhere and made you laugh didn't it? Or, at least chuckle. The guy nursing a beer keeps saying he did all these things but nobody remembers him for his accomplishments. They remember him for one odd (and inappropriate) thing he did.
And if we're being honest, none of us saw that punchline coming did we?
That is the art of holding back in action. You give information, but none of it in any way gives away the ending. None of it gives away the punch line.
Going back to the hypothetical I gave in the previous section for a moment, how could we more effectively have presented the information about what this victory meant for our character and how they're feeling?
Using Andrew's short story as a blueprint, we could have described all the prep work which went into this battle. The secret practices of one maneuver which they knew their foe would be unprepared to defend against. And once the moment has come and gone, and the villain lies dead, that's when we stop providing information. Instead, we give our fellow role players 2+2, as Andrew said in the Ted Talk. Don't give them 4. Give them 2+2 and make them figure it out.
The instant the villain is dead, information stops flowing. All we provide is surface description of action. Our character looks back and notices the villain is dead. Their body shakes. Their hand trembles and they drop their weapon. Their eyes brim with relief, rage, sorrow, and hope all wrapped up at once. And they drop to their knees and can just barely hold themselves up as the reality of their victory slowly sets in.
End of post.
Why end it there?
Because we've just given the other participants 2+2. They see the reaction on the surface. That's the first 2. They see the wheels in your character's head turning via the emotions in their eyes. That's the other 2. But what does it equal? What does the 4, which is the solution to this equation, actually look and feel like?
That, they don't know. But they want to know.
How do they respond to this moment? They instantly dive into having their characters react to the action and then come over to your character asking if they're okay. Asking if they need any help. Asking if they need a bucket to puke in. Whatever it may be, they're invested in your character's well being and whether or not they're okay. They want to know. They need to know. And if they don't get their characters over there to start a dialogue exchange they may never know what this all meant.
As born problem solvers, investigators, and storytellers, most of us can't handle not knowing the answer to this 2+2 equation. We want and need to know what that 4 is.
And in your follow-up responses you can slowly drip feed what this means and how it feels via dialogue exchanges with the others. Don't dump it all out in an answer to the first question asked. Only answer each individual question with as much information as needed for that specific question. Don't go off on tangents and answer unspoken questions. Answer only what's asked.
Bottom line: No info dumping. No deep descriptions about what it means or how it feels. Keep it all under wraps. Hold it back. Show everyone the beginning of what it means and how it feels on the surface. But if everyone wants to know how deep the rabbit hole goes they need to work for that info.
Holding back is a rather simple affair once you get the hang of it.
You know the beginning, middle, and ending of whatever post you're putting together. You know how your character feels, what they want, what they need, and what drives them. But everyone else isn't supposed to know all that. We're supposed to work for that information. We want to work for that information.
We want to discover. Not be spoon-fed.
We want to make mistakes and misinterpret what we see and accidentally get our character into the doghouse with your own so there's some tension between them which needs to be resolved later.
We want to work for our meal.
So, make us work for it.
Hold back.
Cheers!
- GojiBean
I hope I'm not alone in this. But at various times in my roleplaying life I've come up with posts I felt were perfect. They were highly detailed, intricately woven with past posts and details, and the dialogue felt spot on. And yet, when I posted everyone had an underwhelming reaction. Like it was just another post to read and respond to rather than the result of hours of thought and effort laid bare.
If anyone else understands or can relate to this feeling, this tutorial's for you.
What was the issue? I forgot to hold back.
What does it mean to hold back?
Let's dive in!
What Does It Mean?
Holding back means to withhold information or details from the reader for the purpose of building anticipation and/or narrative tension.
It's that simple.
You know everything about every post you make by the time you post it. But, it's important to understand that the other participants don't necessarily want or need to know the same information you do. In fact, it's better if they don't.
But why?
What Happens When We Don't Hold Back?
Let's use a hypothetical:
You're the GM of a roleplay which has been going for the past year. You've bonded with your roleplay partners and everyone's having a great time and looking forward to every new post. Finally, it's the moment you've been waiting for. You've been dropping tiny hints throughout various posts in the recent past leading up to this one big moment where your character overcomes one of the major obstacles to their personal journey. And as the moment arrives you lay it all on the table. There's a big battle to overcome a villain of your character's past. Your character fights valiantly and is almost defeated only to pull off a maneuver they've been practicing in secret which lands the killing blow. The villain lies dead at their feet, and the weight of the world which had been haunting your character for so long finally is allowed to roll off their shoulders as they drop to their knees and relish the relief which washes over them. And you describe in the most intricate detail of your life how it feels and what it means to your character to be free of this villain's shadow at long last.
After everyone finishes reading they say it was good. And then they start working on their responses. And when their responses pop up in the IC thread they're happy for your character, but otherwise they seem to ignore the depth of emotion you just poured out and are focusing on making sure everyone's okay and regrouping to get the hell out of here before any more trouble shows up. They don't gather around your character after the big moment. They don't congratulate them on the victory. They just gather everyone and say "let's get moving."
But, was that the reaction you were hoping for? "That was good?" And suddenly it's just business as usual with everyone responding in a way that ignores all that emotion you poured out? All that build up. All that planning and effort for "that was good?" This was supposed to be the moment for your character. The climax to their personal inner journey. The moment where they finally can let go of their personal demons and awaken to who they were always meant to be. But this is all we got? "That was good?"
Why didn't it land the way we were hoping?
We forgot to hold back.
We used so much description and dumped so much information into this post we forgot to leave the intangible unspoken. There's nothing for the others to really react to at this point because they, OOC, know exactly what your character is going through now and what this meant to them personally. The investment in the idea of "are they okay" is gone. They know your character is okay. Emotionally, they're better than they've ever been. So, why worry? Why give anymore attention to the known quantity that is your character's state of mind?
All the information about what was felt should have been withheld, hidden behind the actions of the character.
Remember the axiom "Show, Don't Tell?" This is a perfect case study as to why it's such an effective axiom and so highly pushed for by writers of all mediums. It's the literary personification of what it means to hold back.
But why?
What Benefits Are There To Holding Back?
The benefits are many. And most of them are in service to your fellow roleplay participants.
For starters, holding back gives the participants (and their characters) the benefit of having to work for their meal, as Andrew Stanton (creator of Finding Nemo, Wall-E, and other amazing stories) would say.
Andrew said in a Ted Talk (which is on YouTube if you want to check it out) "The audience actually wants to work for their meal. They just don't want to know that they're doing that." (He also opens that Ted Talk with one of the funniest, but most effective short stories I've ever heard)
Using Andrew's Ted Talk short story as an example, the punch line comes out of nowhere and made you laugh didn't it? Or, at least chuckle. The guy nursing a beer keeps saying he did all these things but nobody remembers him for his accomplishments. They remember him for one odd (and inappropriate) thing he did.
And if we're being honest, none of us saw that punchline coming did we?
That is the art of holding back in action. You give information, but none of it in any way gives away the ending. None of it gives away the punch line.
Going back to the hypothetical I gave in the previous section for a moment, how could we more effectively have presented the information about what this victory meant for our character and how they're feeling?
Using Andrew's short story as a blueprint, we could have described all the prep work which went into this battle. The secret practices of one maneuver which they knew their foe would be unprepared to defend against. And once the moment has come and gone, and the villain lies dead, that's when we stop providing information. Instead, we give our fellow role players 2+2, as Andrew said in the Ted Talk. Don't give them 4. Give them 2+2 and make them figure it out.
The instant the villain is dead, information stops flowing. All we provide is surface description of action. Our character looks back and notices the villain is dead. Their body shakes. Their hand trembles and they drop their weapon. Their eyes brim with relief, rage, sorrow, and hope all wrapped up at once. And they drop to their knees and can just barely hold themselves up as the reality of their victory slowly sets in.
End of post.
Why end it there?
Because we've just given the other participants 2+2. They see the reaction on the surface. That's the first 2. They see the wheels in your character's head turning via the emotions in their eyes. That's the other 2. But what does it equal? What does the 4, which is the solution to this equation, actually look and feel like?
That, they don't know. But they want to know.
How do they respond to this moment? They instantly dive into having their characters react to the action and then come over to your character asking if they're okay. Asking if they need any help. Asking if they need a bucket to puke in. Whatever it may be, they're invested in your character's well being and whether or not they're okay. They want to know. They need to know. And if they don't get their characters over there to start a dialogue exchange they may never know what this all meant.
As born problem solvers, investigators, and storytellers, most of us can't handle not knowing the answer to this 2+2 equation. We want and need to know what that 4 is.
And in your follow-up responses you can slowly drip feed what this means and how it feels via dialogue exchanges with the others. Don't dump it all out in an answer to the first question asked. Only answer each individual question with as much information as needed for that specific question. Don't go off on tangents and answer unspoken questions. Answer only what's asked.
Bottom line: No info dumping. No deep descriptions about what it means or how it feels. Keep it all under wraps. Hold it back. Show everyone the beginning of what it means and how it feels on the surface. But if everyone wants to know how deep the rabbit hole goes they need to work for that info.
In Closing
Holding back is a rather simple affair once you get the hang of it.
You know the beginning, middle, and ending of whatever post you're putting together. You know how your character feels, what they want, what they need, and what drives them. But everyone else isn't supposed to know all that. We're supposed to work for that information. We want to work for that information.
We want to discover. Not be spoon-fed.
We want to make mistakes and misinterpret what we see and accidentally get our character into the doghouse with your own so there's some tension between them which needs to be resolved later.
We want to work for our meal.
So, make us work for it.
Hold back.
Cheers!
- GojiBean