Yes, And-

 Yes, And-

I wrote in a recent post about how I'd recently done some game design work that felt fairly productive. Chad and I got together, played some Five Tribes (I whooped his ass - WOOOO! Ask him about it. Go on, ask him. Don't bother asking him how many times he has played the game, just ask him how the game went), and dug into some design stuff. Back when we first sat down and talked about working on game design, I reviewed the ideas in my game journal. There's one in particular that instantly evoked an idea from Chad and we decided we'd work on that one as well as a pick up and deliver game idea I had mostly mapped out before we ever sat down.

Anyway, the idea that Chad hit on came from a song I enjoy and was sort of acting as inspiration for a game theme more than anything else. The couple of times we sat down to talk about it, we threw around ideas with the understanding that "no idea is stupid" and "all ideas are worth noting." I can't speak for him, but I can say that, for myself, I meant it when I said it. But then we started pitching ideas, the ideas and direction changed, and I had already decided I liked the ideas we had pitched. I felt myself getting reluctant and sort of pausing before pitching in ideas or contributing, but I didn't really identify the fact that I was closing off.

One of the cardinal rules of improv is "don't block." That is, when someone onstage with you says a thing, don't shut them down. I used to do this in high school because I had my own notion of where the scene should go. But it's detrimental to everyone; if I wanted to do a solo show, then that's what I should have done. I'll return to improv in a second, but first, I want to quickly draw a parallel from not blocking to something with which I have much more familiarity: creating negative space. As an actor onstage, one of my most extraordinary experiences was during a production of SERVANT OF TWO MASTERS. The play is funny but the script can't stand on its own. It's Italian and while we had a good translation for our production, I've read a number of poor translations since. We had a pretty talented cast, but let me tell you something: the actor playing Truffaldino, the lead, is an exquisite actor with a very special penchant for comedy. I mean, this guy just absolutely kills. But that's not what made the production so damn good. He was incredibly funny, coming up with new stuff rehearsal after rehearsal, night after night. But it was, somehow, never about him. He kept making space for other actors. He somehow, with all of his seemingly manic energy and brilliant ideas, managed to include everyone onstage in his antics. I sat onstage and had exactly zero lines and he still included me in the action. He made me more a part of the show than the script ever did and he did this for everyone in that cast of something like 13 or 14 people. It was incredible. He created negative space for other actors to occupy whenever he was onstage.

That negative space I keep referencing is the space *not* occupied by people onstage. In this specific instance, this actor Brian kept leaving room for other actors to occupy. I've gotten decently skilled at doing this while onstage, but I can always do a better job of it in other areas, too. This is one of those areas. A little bit of time away gave me the perspective I needed to realize that, for whatever, I was taking up too much space in the conversations Chad and I were having around this design. I needed to lean harder on that other hallmark of good improv: "Say 'yes, and-'" Basically, accept the premise that someone else has proposed ("yes"), but then expand on that line of thinking ("and"). I needed to do this instead of whatever I was doing when I was clinging to some fraction of a notion of what I thought we were doing with this shadow of an idea. Chad and I talked about it and while Chad was really gracious about the whole thing and said I shouldn't mention it, I knew it was important that I said it out loud for both of us, even if he really hadn't noticed I was doing it. After we sort of took care of that conversation, we started talking about the design space again where we'd gotten stymied and suddenly, the ideas were coming fast and furious.

I've mentioned before that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and in the case of game design, one doesn't create a perfect game from nothing in a first draft. So it's not like we suddenly "have a game on our hands," but I will say this: we came up with some damn fine ideas that flowed into one another that we both like and think make the basis for a strong game design.

Just taking the time to say "yes, and" got us into a really fun and interesting design space. Give it a shot!