The Return of Terrible Gamers!

Terrible Gamers began as an idea in 2013. We thought there was room for gaming journalism that took its readers seriously. Too much of the writing we encountered stopped at the surface, as though people who played games were not capable of, or interested in, a deeper critical discussion of their hobby and its culture.

Our interview with Brian Cross about Eclipse Phase at Gen Con 2013 and our review of Shadows of Esteren are examples of what we had in mind. We wanted to ask more of games and of the writing about them, and we still do.

We also wanted to build a community. That meant welcoming LARPers, tabletop roleplayers, wargamers, casual weekend board gamers, miniature gamers, and collectible card gamers. Whether you played with a group or by yourself, there ought to be a place for you here. That remains as much our goal today as it was then.

Another part of that original vision was a live-play podcast. We loved what Critical Hit was doing, and we wanted to explore what recorded play could capture. For many of us, our first introduction to pencil-and-paper roleplaying games came from watching other people play. In middle school or early high school, watching a game of AD&D could feel like watching people write a novel together—one given shape by the game mechanics.

Some thirty years later, we still tell stories about the games we played as kids. They have become part of the way we remember our friendships and our younger selves. That speaks to the social character of memory: the stories we share help shape who we are, and playing together gives us stories that none of us could have made alone.

We saw Thac0artists as participatory fiction. We wanted to capture how a story takes shape through the interaction of players, game mechanics, and dice. The rules give that collaboration a structure; chance introduces things no one planned. What interested us was the process of making a story together, not simply the finished story.

A lot has changed since we first imagined Terrible Gamers and Thac0artists. There is now an abundance of actual-play podcasts, gaming podcasts, and YouTube channels worth exploring. Some have explored possibilities we hoped to pursue ourselves. With so much available, a website devoted to written journalism might seem anachronistic.

We do not think it is. Good written criticism gives an argument room to develop and readers time to consider it. You can return to a passage, follow a reference, or stop to question a claim. A review should explain how a game works in practice, what its mechanics encourage, and where its ambitions meet—or fail to meet—the experience of playing it.

Readers should be able to see how a writer reached a judgment, disagree with it, and decide whether a game offers something they want. Taking games seriously does not mean that every game needs to be solemn, complicated, or ambitious. It means paying attention to what a game is trying to do and how well it does it.

That is the kind of journalism we want to offer. Reviews that explain their judgments. Interviews that give interesting questions and thoughtful answers room to breathe. Writing that treats our fellow gamers as people capable of engaging critically with the things they enjoy.

That is why I am proud to announce that Terrible Gamers is back in proverbial business. There is more we would like to do with the wider Terrible Gamers Project, including the community and participatory-fiction ideas that helped inspire it. For now, the original writing is available again, and we are looking ahead to new work. We will share more as those plans take shape.

Finally, I want to thank Mira Vale for her contribution to the rebirth of Terrible Gamers, and everyone who contributed to the original project. Expect more from familiar voices and new contributors as we return to the table.