{"id":21764,"date":"2018-01-23T01:52:28","date_gmt":"2018-01-22T14:52:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/?p=21764"},"modified":"2018-01-23T01:54:34","modified_gmt":"2018-01-22T14:54:34","slug":"fear-itself","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/fear-itself\/","title":{"rendered":"Fear Itself and the GM"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/skull-2525192.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"258\" style=\"border: 2px solid black\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-21765\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/skull-2525192.jpg 400w, https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/skull-2525192-120x77.jpg 120w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\" \/><\/p>\n<h3>Fear Itself<\/h3>\n<p>Fear is an enemy every GM will have to deal with on occasion; that&#8217;s simple reality. But fear comes in many different shapes and sizes, and many different intensities.<\/p>\n<p>The level of Fear that few of us ever have to deal with (phobias excepted) is the sort of fear that paralyzes, that washes away moral codes, and causes us to betray friends, family, and principles.<\/p>\n<p>Fear, ultimately, is an instinctive warning of a serious threat to our survival, but such threats do not necessarily induce total fear of the intensity described, which really is disproportionate to the point of being counterproductive.<\/p>\n<p>Those who yield to such fear are often derided for cowardice, even as we feel sympathy for the situation they were placed in, and the opposing quality &#8211; courage &#8211; is quite properly lauded as a great and admirable virtue in those who demonstrate it.<\/p>\n<p>Phobias are quite a different matter, in which the psychology of the individual over-inflates the danger posed by the phobia trigger. Phobic responses can amplify even something that may not be threatening at all beyond the point of any rational self-control. People can&#8217;t be faulted for their behavior under such circumstances, only helped. A phobia, once triggered, can be far more intense and crippling than a genuine threat to one&#8217;s safety.<\/p>\n<p>I speak from experience: I was <em>extremely<\/em> arachnophobic as a child, unable to sleep until the covers and sheets were fully drawn back to show that I would have no &#8216;company&#8217; while I slept, and still often awakening in the middle of the night screaming in terror from nightmares despite this reassurance. It might be the result of an incident that I now <em>think<\/em> was real, in which I ran between two rose bushes, and got covered in webbing and baby spiders, or that might be a particularly vivid creation of the phobia. And I have, three times, been threatened by individuals wielding weapons capable of causing severe injury or even death. As a result, I can state two things with certainty:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>When threatened by a weapon, I was able to act rationally and intelligently to minimize the threat to myself and others while retaining the ability to document and process events, despite an appropriate degree of apprehension; whereas,<\/li>\n<li>Even today, a completely harmless, totally non-venomous spider on my wall causes me greater anxiety and apprehension than being threatened by a deadly weapon in the hands of someone with both motive and intent to use it upon my person.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<blockquote><p>\nFor the benefit of anyone else who suffers from a phobia, I should probably describe how I mitigated my phobia to the point of being reasonably casual around the trigger of my phobia, Spiders, and honest in describing the extent to which I have been &#8220;cured&#8221;.<\/p>\n<p>I think I was about 8, and had started to outgrow the recurring nightmares a year or two earlier. I still pulled back each blanket and sheet one at a time on occasion before pulling the linen back up and getting into bed, but even that was growing more infrequent after years of finding nothing. I found that I could look at photos of spiders without panic, at least for a while, so I got a book with many such photos from the library and would stare at each image for as long as I could tolerate it. When I became so used to doing so that I was no longer aware of the exact position of the book within the room <em>at all times,<\/em> I progressed to trying to imagine each spider on the page (to the same scale as the photograph), and again doing so until I could do so without extreme stress. Finally, I progressed to imagining the spiders (however unrealistic in virtually all cases) as being the same size as the opened book, and moving around the walls, and &#8211; most importantly &#8211; being afraid of me, scurrying away when I drew closer, and even paralyzed with fear if I got too close.<\/p>\n<p>No-one taught me how to go about this desensitization process; I figured it out for myself.<\/p>\n<p>I was not &#8220;cured&#8221; yet; I simply had control of myself enough not to scream in fear or act in total panic at the presence of a spider.<\/p>\n<p>By the time I was an adult, I was sufficiently adjusted to spiders that if one invaded my environment, I could &#8211; after getting over the initial shock, and with great wariness &#8211; kill it as painlessly as possible (keeping my distance at all times). Over the next decade or two, I had to do so perhaps four or five times; it got easier each time to do what had to be done.<\/p>\n<p>About 8 years ago, a male <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Huntsman_spider\" rel=\"noopener\" target=\"_blank\">Huntsman<\/a> (about 7 inches across) found it&#8217;s way into my apartment. Because the complex had a problem with cockroaches at the time, having ascertained that it was unlikely to be aggressive, and that it fed on such insects, I decided to leave it be until it decided to leave of it&#8217;s own accord in search of a mate. I soon became sufficiently used to its presence that <em>once I had established its location,<\/em> I could ignore it completely. This almost pet-owner &#8216;relationship&#8217; persisted for about 3 months before I came in one morning and found it dead on the floor, presumably of old age. <\/p>\n<p>Since moving to my current residence, I have only encountered one spider. I was unsure of the species so I treated it with considerable caution, using a broom to chivy it onto a magazine I had placed on the floor (which also enabled me to estimate it&#8217;s speed of motion) and then trapping it under a small <em>see-through<\/em> bowl &#8211; I wanted to be sure of it&#8217;s position at all times! I then dragged the whole assembly outdoors by the edge of the magazine while using my other hand to keep the bowl pressed flat and therefore sealed. Once it was outside, I shook it off the insider of the bowl, and let it scurry away, fully prepared to retreat at any signs of threatening behavior.<\/p>\n<p>In other words, while my heart was pounding, I was able to deal with the problem in a rational way that minimized the risk of harm to both myself and to the spider.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>Fear is innately incredibly stressful. This is an article about the effects of fear on the GM, but right from the outset, I want to distinguish, and separate out, the effects of stress; those were addressed in my article, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/new-beginnings-2\/\" rel=\"noopener\" target=\"_blank\">New Beginnings: Phase 2: Baggage Dump<\/a>, starting with the section &#8220;Clearing Your Head&#8221; about 20% into the article, and continuing to the section &#8220;What to dump: Categories of baggage&#8221;, which constitutes the bulk of the article..<\/p>\n<p>Fear, in lesser doses, can be a quite useful survival trait. I (quite reasonably) fear burning myself, so I&#8217;m cautious when handling saucepans, lighting fires, etc. I fear the consequences of dishonesty, so my nature is to be honest. I have a wary respect of snakes, which are far more aggressive in Australia and more dangerous; were I to encounter one, I know to stand absolutely still until <em>it<\/em> decides I&#8217;m not a threat, and then to get a professional animal control officer to remove it, and so on.<\/p>\n<p>To distinguish between these grades of intensity, let&#8217;s define a fear continuity:<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/fear-scale.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"550\" height=\"200\" style=\"border: 2px solid black\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-21766\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/fear-scale.jpg 550w, https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/fear-scale-120x44.jpg 120w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px\" \/><\/p>\n<ol>\n<li><strong><em>Acute Fear<\/em><\/strong> is crippling. The fear itself matters more than the object of that fear, which exists as a composite of reality and nightmare. And note the yellow waves of panic and how much they conceal.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Fear<\/em><\/strong> is disabling. Nothing matters except the fear, but action can be taken that removes or mitigates that fear &#8211; usually after the individual has had time to build themselves up to performing the task.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Extreme Anxiety<\/em><\/strong> is disturbing, but the sufferer can still function, albeit at very high stress levels, despite the anxiety.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Anxiety<\/em><\/strong> is that level of nervousness at which the subject experiences stress as a result of their nerves. That stress often persists beyond the point of no return in decision-making.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Nervousness<\/em><\/strong> is the level of fear that we experience about everyday decisions and activities, and is generally the result of uncertainty over the outcome. It frequently fades or vanishes once decisions or situations take effect.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n<p>When it comes to gaming activities, the highest level of fear to which we should ever be exposed is Anxiety, and even that should be relatively rare. But it&#8217;s worth remembering that even nervousness triggers a flood of adrenalin in the body, and that both can have profound impacts on the individual that they should be aware of, watch for, and make allowances for.<\/p>\n<h3>Nervous Triggers<\/h3>\n<p>I&#8217;ve identified a baker&#8217;s dozen of triggers that can make a GM nervous. Most of these will be fairly obvious, so I don&#8217;t intend to belabor the point.<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><strong><em>New Games<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Doing anything for the first time is scary. This is usually a problem of expectations &#8211; the GM&#8217;s and the Players&#8217;, and doubts about whether or not the GM can live up to them.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>New Campaigns<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Starting a new campaign brings very similar pressures, stresses, and nerves. While the challenge of a new game system is not involved, expectations about expertise in the game mechanics will be higher.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>New Adventures (investment-dependent)<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Starting a new adventure is always a little nerve-wracking. Will it entertain? Will it derail? Is it too GM-dominant, or worse yet, a railroad? Will the spotlight sharing be adequate? Does it make sense? As a general rule of thumb, the more effort that they have invested in the new adventure, the more nervous a GM will be about running it.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>New Adventure Locales<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Introducing a new adventuring location to the mix can also be quite nerve-wracking. Has the GM been too subtle? Too obvious? Too simple? Too complex? Will the potential adventures appeal to the players? Is the setting too detailed? Not detailed enough? Will it fit the campaign? The same general rule of thumb applies as for new adventures, but because a new locale is a lot more work to define well, this almost always ranks higher on the anxiety scale. Potentially compounding the problem is the fact that new locales also often mean the start of a new adventure.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>New Players<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Introducing one new player is stressful and nerve-wracking. If the new player knows the other players, there may be expectations and baggage; and if not, there will almost certainly be an adjustment period as new and old get used to each other. Introducing more than one new player is exponentially worse. Starting a game with a whole new group is therefore the pinnacle of nervousness in this trigger area. This can be muted somewhat if you are also introducing new locales or campaigns or game elements, as the New Player factor tends to get subordinated by those more intense sources of nerves.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Important Moments<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Some moments are more important than others in a game, and we naturally get more nervous when an important moment approaches. You may have been building up to this moment for weeks, months, or even years; this might be the pivotal heartbeat of the entire campaign. The greater the consequence, the greater the investment that the GM has in the moment, and the greater the investment, the greater the nervousness.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Stylistic Changes<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Trying something in a new style can be exciting and thrilling and a fun change of pace &#8211; or it can all crash-and-burn horribly. What&#8217;s more, such changes frequently involve a fairly substantial commitment on the part of the GM, with nervousness escalating proportionately. One-offs can be written off; multi-session adventures can be written off less easily; multi-adventure plot arcs can often be written off only with extreme reluctance; and it&#8217;s often very hard to completely write off a new campaign because the style just doesn&#8217;t work or doesn&#8217;t fit what the players want (or worse yet, doesn&#8217;t fit what the GM promoted the campaign style to be), or doesn&#8217;t meet expectations in some other respect.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Difficult Relationships<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>We all experience hurdles in our real-world relationships now and then. Games can either be an escape from those, or an amplifier. Consider the problems if two players happen to be husband and wife: if the relationship is happy, they are more likely to favor each other; if the relationship is strained, they are more likely to take it out on each other; and either way, real-world baggage has a way of leaking into the campaign. Things get even worse when one of the two is the GM. And then there are the problems when two former friends who now have a somewhat strained relationship find themselves playing in the same campaign. Again, baggage. The GM&#8217;s problems come when they become aware of any out-of-game baggage because they are the one who will have to deal with it&#8217;s potential impact, and they may already be distracted and distressed by virtue of their own relationships with the individuals. Uncertainty always promotes nervousness.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Difficult Characters<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Some characters are easy to run. Some require a lot more effort on the part of the player. And some require a lot more work on the part of the GM. And then there are complicated and complex NPCs. Difficult players always create nerves, usually in the form of anticipating problems that never materialize, and wasting time and energy prepping for them. And the more things that can go wrong, the more likely it is that something will go wrong that the GM didn&#8217;t anticipate. More nervousness. And finally, difficult characters often require a level of energy and activity from the GM during actual play that can be hard to achieve consistently, and can be a cause of apprehension.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Public Exposure<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>You can&#8217;t really GM without your personal opinions and philosophies sneaking into the game &#8211; whether you know what they are or not, or realize they are present or not. You&#8217;re attaching your name, reputation, and credibility to something and doing it in the glare of a very large spotlight. That&#8217;s&#8217; enough to make anyone nervous.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Public Speaking<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Some people have a mortal terror of public speaking. Some take to it like a duck to water. And some fall into the typical middle ground where public speaking makes them nervous. Some people will find their apprehension easing once they actually start, others are more glass-half-empty and will get more nervous if things seem to be going well <em>(&#8220;don&#8217;t mess up now&#8230;&#8221;)<\/em>. Public speaking, especially when you know in advance that you have to do it, is frequently a source of nervousness.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>New Technology<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>It can be stressful, working with a new piece of technology for the first time &#8220;live for real&#8221; &#8211; no matter how much private practice you may have put in. It introduces a new variable that we have at best a vague handle on, and that is enough to make people (quite justifiably) nervous.<\/li>\n<li><strong><em>Risks<\/em> &#8211; <\/strong>Finally, there are times when we all need to take a risk of some sort beyond those identified above. Have you ever had the fate of an entire campaign come down to a single die roll? How about the life of your best friend&#8217;s favorite PC? Risks can arise anytime, and taking a risk always induces both nervousness and an adrenalin rush.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p>That list is as comprehensive as I could make it, and the bottom line is this: there are always <em>lots<\/em> of reasons for a GM to be nervous, most often at the start of a given day&#8217;s play or in the period leading up to it.<\/p>\n<p>When you boil most of these down, though, you end up with three basic categories: Meeting Expectations, Excessive investment (too much prep), or Insufficient prep. Clearly there is a very delicate balancing act involved, and one that is changing constantly, and different for every individual.<\/p>\n<p>Well, there are three basic responses to nerves. You can give in to them, you can ignore them, or you can attempt to manage them.<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><em><strong>Giving in<\/strong><\/em> basically means there will be no game. That&#8217;s a dead end outcome that&#8217;s to be avoided.<\/li>\n<li><em><strong>Ignoring fears<\/strong><\/em> means that the consequences of nervous energy can catch you off-guard, and that can create situations that are even more nerve-wracking.<\/li>\n<li>That leaves <em><strong>Managing Your Fears,<\/strong><\/em> and that usually means acknowledging the fear and managing the consequences of it; in other words, managing your nervous reactions.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<h3>Nervous Reactions<\/h3>\n<p>I&#8217;ve identified ten reactions to nervousness that can afflict GMs, of varying levels of consequence. They are:<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>Talking too much<\/li>\n<li>Giving Away too much<\/li>\n<li>Talking too fast<\/li>\n<li>Tendency to fixate<\/li>\n<li>Shortness of breath<\/li>\n<li>Disrupted sleep<\/li>\n<li>Overreact to Criticism<\/li>\n<li>Irritability<\/li>\n<li>Aggression<\/li>\n<li>Feeling Ill<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p>Because there&#8217;s rather more to say about these, I&#8217;ve given each it&#8217;s own section, below.<\/p>\n<ul>\n<h5>Talking too much<\/h5>\n<p>Nervous babbling is a well-known phenomenon. Once it starts, it can be hard to stop. The best management techniques are to know what you want to say in advance, and say just that. If you have to enter into a dialogue, when in the guise of an NPC for example, if you detect any such tendency, take a deep breath and release it slowly before the scene begins.<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Giving Away too much<\/h5>\n<p>A lesser form of talking too much is <em>revealing<\/em> too much. This is essentially a means of seeking reassurance and validation from the others at the game table, of trying to justify yourself and the decisions you&#8217;ve made. Unfortunately, in mid-game is hardly the right time for doing so, and seeking it from the people you are supposed to be keeping in the dark about something their characters don&#8217;t know is hardly the ideal means of calming your nerves.<\/p>\n<p>This is also one of the hardest symptoms of nervousness to manage. The best technique is to have a third party who you can use as a sounding board in advance, but issues of differing style can complicate that. The second-best technique is to create an imaginary NPC and tell it to them (and have them approve what you&#8217;re doing) &#8211; because just as your apprehension is the result of imagined shortcomings in what you have planned for the session, so can be the safety valve.<\/p>\n<p>Unfortunately, this can lead to secondary problems &#8211; the well-known echo chamber effect of social media has nothing on what can happen inside our own heads! Experienced GMs learn to distinguish between decisions that are really to cause angst at the game table and those that are just nerves on their part, and to ignore the latter and consult others regarding the former &#8211; and that&#8217;s easier than ever to do thanks to social media. So my advice would be to adapt the first solution to the 21st century if there&#8217;s no-one of like mind that you can consult in person.<\/p>\n<p>Of course, this doesn&#8217;t eliminate the potential for disaster. The Adventurer&#8217;s Club has two full-time GMs who collaborate on everything, and we&#8217;ve still managed our share of catastrophically-bad decisions &#8211; see   An Experimental Failure: 10 lessons from a train-wreck Session for an example. So you will make mistakes, everybody does. Learn from them and they will grow more and more infrequent.<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Talking too fast<\/h5>\n<p>This is babbling without babbling &#8211; you deliver exactly what you wanted to deliver in terms of narrative and roleplay, but you talk so fast<br \/>\n that half of it goes over the intended recipients&#8217; heads.<\/p>\n<p>The solution to this problem is the deep breath mentioned earlier. The challenge is that this is the hardest symptom of nervousness to recognize when it occurring to you, and so you don&#8217;t know when to apply it. Players are all-too-prone to assuming that <em>they<\/em> are being unusually slow-witted, today and are the only person who is struggling with the pace of delivery, and so say nothing.<\/p>\n<p>So the <em>real<\/em> solution to this problem is to assume that it <em>could<\/em> happen and to deliberately slow your pace of delivery just a little bit <em>all the time<\/em> so that you are still intelligible when it does. That takes practice, but it&#8217;s worth the effort.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Tendency to fixate<\/h5>\n<p>The fight-or-flight instinct that accompanies nervousness evolved as a defense against danger, and that evolution was more successful when those threatened could focus on the source of the danger and ignore distractions. That specific myopia poses a problem in the modern day, because it means that in a crisis (even a rather mild one, like being nervous before a game), the natural tendency is to focus on the trees and lose track of the forest, or even forget that the forest exists. Worse yet, we don&#8217;t even focus on all the important trees at once, instead fixating on first one and then the next.<\/p>\n<p>There are two really good defenses against the problems that can quite obviously result, and I rely on both of them on a regular basis. They both take the form of game prep.<\/p>\n<p>Defense one is to do my best to design my adventures in such a way that the big picture is inherently built into events, so that all I need to focus on at the game table is the &#8220;tree&#8221; in front of me. I&#8217;ve actually been working on an article about how to do exactly that, off and on, but it&#8217;s grown too large (104 pages containing more than 33,700 words) to actually post here at Campaign Mastery. The problem is that it doesn&#8217;t work well when broken up, either &#8211; so I&#8217;m contemplating publishing it as a low-priced e-book. But that would mean rewriting it as a lot of the contents are instructions to WordPress on how to format it&#8230; <\/p>\n<p>Defense two is to structure the campaign in such a way that I naturally get opportunities for &#8220;bigger-picture reality checks&#8221;. Every adventure has a defined purpose within the context of the campaign; every act has a defined purpose within the adventure; every scene has a defined purpose within the act; every encounter either contributes to the purpose of that scene or it gets extracted and placed into its own scene. At the start of each scene, I remind myself of the purpose in a note to myself, and the same at the start of each act, and so on. Which means that if the players go off-the-rails, I know where I want the scene to go, and don&#8217;t really care whether we get there by high road, low road, submarine, helicopter, or parachute. So long as the purpose is achieved, everything else is wherever the players want to take things, and my planning only deals with the path I consider most likely to eventuate. But this also means that if I ever lose sight of the forest for the trees, there&#8217;s a built-in reminder.<\/p>\n<p>Unless you have designed your adventures in this way, though, these defenses are not available to you. The only solution is to take that previously-recommended deep breath and deliberately remind yourself at every pause and interval to contemplate, however briefly, the big picture.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Shortness of breath<\/h5>\n<p>Another natural tendency from fight-or-flight instincts is the tendency to be as quiet as possible. That often translates into taking shallow breaths, which can mean that you run out of puff before you get to the end of any lengthy narrative passages. It doesn&#8217;t matter how easily you were able to get through such passages in rehearsals; this physical reality can still find you caught short.<\/p>\n<p>Worsening this phenomenon is the fact that you have to project you voice loudly enough to be heard over both the ambient noise and everything else that might be going on at the table, and that usually requires a greater expenditure of breath when speaking.<\/p>\n<p>Over time, you&#8217;ll learn (almost subconsciously) how much you can fit into a statement or passage of narrative, and begin to reshape them naturally to accommodate your limitations. Until that happens, new GMs can use this rule of thumb: If you can read it aloud one-and-a-half times before you run out of breath, you&#8217;re at the limit. If you can read it twice, you have a margin of comfort.<\/p>\n<p>Even without such pro nuances, taking that proverbial deep breath can help oxygenate the blood and mitigate the effects of any shallow breathing.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Disrupted sleep<\/h5>\n<p>When nervousness escalates into anxiety, worry can cause disruption to normal sleeping patterns. This probably won&#8217;t happen very often, and usually indicates that tolerance for anxiety has been eroded by other problems in life, but it can happen eventually, to any of us.<\/p>\n<p>Adding to the problem is the tendency of a lot of us to leave game prep until the last minute, which &#8211; if it runs over-long &#8211; then eats into sleeping schedules. I have an unusually low requirement for sleep, and it&#8217;s happened to me, so I have no doubts that it happens all the more often to those who need a full eight hours rest in order to function.<\/p>\n<p>I combat this by prioritizing my game prep (as described in <a href=\"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/plus-n-to-longevity\/\" rel=\"noopener\" target=\"_blank\">Game Prep and the +N to Game Longevity<\/a>) so that the most vitally important tasks are dealt with <em>first.<\/em> Knowing that relieves a huge burden from the mind, provided that you have prep time that it anywhere close to adequate; all that adding extra time does is allow you to polish and deal with relatively low-importance items on your prep-list, and means that getting a decent amount of sleep before game-day is something that can naturally be accommodated into the schedule. Not only are you going to get more sleep, you&#8217;ll worry less, and so that sleep will be of a better quality. That&#8217;s a win-win in my book.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Overreact to Criticism<\/h5>\n<p>The knock-on effects of disrupted sleep make a lot of preexisting responses to nervousness more acute, and one of the first is a tendency to overreact to criticism. Impartial and impersonal commentary assumes an unwarranted personal dimension, and thoughtless behavior by which absolutely nothing was meant can be interpreted as a willing, even deliberate, failure to appreciate your efforts.<\/p>\n<p>Fact: Every GM feels underappreciated by their players every now and then.<\/p>\n<p>Fact: Hardly ever do the players in question realize that they are triggering that response in the GM.<\/p>\n<p>Before you respond to anything that has had a negative emotional impact on you at the gaming table, take a deep breath and use the moment to put whatever the &#8220;anything&#8221; was into a more realistic perspective; you will often find that you don&#8217;t actually have to say anything, because nothing was actually meant to be hostile. If you <em>must<\/em> respond, use the moment to deliberately keep your vocal tone normal &#8211; not unnaturally flat, or expressive of anger or impatience, or cold, or with any whine in your voice. Any of these will only escalate problems. And if you still have a problem with behavior at the game table, talk to the player involved during a break or at the end of the session, without interrupting play for the purpose. Why ruin everyone else&#8217;s fun? Or worse, force them to choose sides &#8211; when they might not choose yours?\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Irritability<\/h5>\n<p>In fact, it&#8217;s fair to say that nervousness can make anyone a bit more irritable than they would otherwise be, and this is only exaggerated and compounded by irritability from any shortage of sleep. Now, some people&#8217;s tolerance levels are so high that this increase makes no practical difference whatsoever; in the vast majority, though, it is a factor that we need to take into account. If something is irritating you, ask yourself if it&#8217;s just the insomnia talking? Make the deliberate choice, when you think that you might be a little more prickly than usual, to make greater allowances for the irritations that are caused by others, and everyone will have a better time of it &#8211; including you.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Aggression<\/h5>\n<p>Aggression goes hand-in-hand with irritability, but it can also manifest in more subtle forms, sneaking up on the GM as it were. Grudge-monsters. Nit-picking. Pedanticism. Authoritarianism. Intimidation. Outbursts of anger. Penalties.<\/p>\n<p>The PCs, and the players that control them, are not punching bags present for the GM to use in order to unwind and work out his issues. And, as a general rule of thumb, if the GM relaxes, lightens up, and has more fun, he&#8217;ll actually derive more benefit than if he unleashes such abuse of power, anyway.\n<\/ul>\n<ul>\n<h5>Feeling Ill<\/h5>\n<p>Even quite low levels of nervousness &#8211; so low that you aren&#8217;t consciously aware of them &#8211; can impact on the GM&#8217;s sense of well-being, and &#8211; like virtually all the symptoms since it was mentioned (which is no accident), this is only exacerbated by inadequate sleep. How can you tell? If the feeling of ill-health goes away when you actually start running the game, the odds are that it was all psychosomatic in the first place, or a minor reaction to adrenalin.<\/p>\n<p>Legends abound &#8211; some of them true &#8211; of actors and actresses who were so nervous before going on stage or before the cameras that they were physically ill. Being a GM is less stressful and more sheltered an experience, and results in a lesser form of the phenomenon. It&#8217;s always better &#8211; provided you aren&#8217;t infectious &#8211; to try to run the game and fail, than it is to call it off for an illness that will never go away if left untreated. If you feel unwell the morning of the game, focus on how much you are looking forward to the game, and on what specifically you are looking forward<br \/>\n to experiencing &#8211; for just long enough to get you through the nerves, then forget such expectations (disappointment if they are not forthcoming can feed back into a worse reaction next time).\n<\/ul>\n<p>There&#8217;s nothing wrong with being nervous before taking a big step in something that matters to you, or when doing something for the first time, or when you feel inadequate to the demands that are going to be placed on you. That&#8217;s life; harness the nervous energy and manage the downsides. Fear&#8217;s biggest virtue is that it holds us back when contemplating actions dangerous or foolish; the biggest reason why it is a bad thing is that it can hold us back when there is no real justification for it. Most of the time, we have nothing to fear that is so detrimental to our potential for success as Fear itself. Master your fears and you free yourself up to make rational choices, instead of being at the mercy of an irrational subconscious.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Fear Itself Fear is an enemy every GM will have to deal with on occasion; that&#8217;s simple reality. But fear comes in many different shapes and sizes, and many different intensities. The level of Fear that few of us ever have to deal with (phobias excepted) is the sort of fear that paralyzes, that washes [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[65,29,32,74,89,91,97],"tags":[100,104,107,108,109,172,286,146],"series":[],"class_list":["post-21764","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-campaign-creation","category-campaign-management","category-game-philosophy","category-mike","category-npcs-etc","category-plans-and-prep","category-world-design","tag-adventure-prep","tag-behind-the-screen","tag-campaign-setting","tag-campaigns","tag-dm-advice","tag-npcs","tag-opinion","tag-running-encounters"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1toiD-5F2","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21764"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21764"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21764\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21771,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21764\/revisions\/21771"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21764"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21764"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21764"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.campaignmastery.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=21764"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}