Fiasco: Game Or Collaborative Fiction?
Is Fiasco a game or an exercise in writing collaborative fiction? It is a game, in that it is run according to a formalized set of rules, composed of discrete parts, including a beginning, middle and end, and involves staples of game design such as dice rolls. On the other hand, there is no winner nor loser, not truly, and the most compelling part of the game takes place entirely in the collaborative creation of narrative. As players we used our imagination, and each other, to inject meaning into the experience through a type of conversational writing. In short, I consider Fiasco an exercise in collaborative fiction guided and structured by a formal set of game-like rules.
Before I was able to formulate high-level thoughts on Fiasco as outlined above I actually had to play the game which was an exercise in muddled confusion for the first thirty minutes as we attempted to make sense of the rules. In our game Brian, Nick, Jay and I elected to play in the “Suburbia” playset. I thought this would lead to small, meditative character stories but as with most (of mine at least) attempts at amateur storytelling, of which this certainly was, our plot got out of hand and became increasingly absurd. I had imagined stories à la “Mad Men” in the sense of getting insights into characters from their actions in a fairly mundane, though by nature of our given biographies somewhat scrupulous, lives. We ended up with something far nearer a thriller with wall-to-wall action reaching dizzying stakes and absurdities such as a escaping to Canada and then Britain, a deadly helicopter chase, being captured by and escaping from El Chapo when he and all other immigrants died from doctored drugs and so on and so forth. My character was a high-end drug dealer who wanted to “get revenge on the dirty immigrants” (hence their later deaths). With my pals Nick, on the right, with whom I had a drug manufacturing relationship and Jay, on the left, my closeted, gay lover. We fleshed out these roles, my connection to Nick went back to our childhood and the beginning of our drug trade in middle-school and we decided Jay was the Mayor’s son and college burnout. Finally, there was Brian who had connections to other players, but not myself, and was some sort of police officer monitoring Jay’s parole.
Playing through Fiasco, as with any time I attempt fiction, gave me greater appreciation for the skill and technique involved in creating compelling stories. While it was extremely enjoyable to play through our story it seems doubtful others would care about from the outside looking in as most of the enjoyment came from the actual creative process rather than the story that resulted from it. In addition to appreciating those who craft stories far better than I ever have, I also found myself reflecting on certain learning outcomes. In particular, writing as a process, where each turn was a chance to reflect on how I had controlled or affected the narrative previously and whether that was good or bad, something I now needed to correct, or an exciting direction I wanted to choose. Whichever of those I ended up landing on I implemented and improved my storytelling methods as I went along. And secondly, but not less importantly, collaboration. The reason I think so many people feared, or had concerns at a minimum, about this game was not only that they wouldn’t know how to play but that they would be opening up their minds to others and connecting ironically while working together. Many of us, myself included, keep an ironic distance as a coping mechanism which can often lead to worse collaboration. However, we were all able to relax and enjoy the game fairly quickly, getting caught up, as evidenced by the plot, in indulging each other’s ludicrous plotting.