The writing style is certainly no prize winning accomplishment, but RPG books (especially core books) are a form of technical writing where readers take what they read very literately, even the flavor text. There isn’t a lot of freedom there for great literature, so I don’t see there being room for the writing to get much better.

The setting is somewhat derivative, but maybe that was the point. I think that the intent of the entire book could have been to create a broad and easily accessible common world for players coming from different dark fantasy games. That is really just my own hunch.

Similarly, the rules are familiar enoguh for comfort. The system seems to be a very smooth and nicely done amalgamation of other systems. I recognize elements from Storyteller, Palladium Megaversal, and whatever the system was called for old school Shadowrun. I very much like this system.

The humor does poke through from time to time. The trenchcoat rule is a good example. No matter how monsterous the character, that person can always pass unnoticed through a crowded street by wearing a trench coat and wide brimmed hat. I would have liked to have seen more, but the game seems to rely heavily upon the creativity of the players. That is not entirely a bad thing. Perhaps the tone is best carried by the artists who present characters that are expressive and a little cartoony — like the water demon in the swim trunks.

That brings me to the sexuality issue. Yeah, it had me scratching my head as well. Beyond the definitions, this issue keeps reappearing throughout the book. At least half of the example characters are homo- or bisexual or pregnant men or something. It’s worth mention here because it feels forced and artificial every time it occurs. If the game were about sexuality, I wouldn’t have noticed, but the game has nothing to do with that. It’s like the designers were trying to reinforce a point that they forgot to make (or I missed) in the first place.

Outside of the sexuality issue feeling artificial and distracting and a setting that is a little general and bland for my tastes, I very much like this game. The price from RPGNow is great. I am very much looking forward to the upcoming sourcebook about specters.

I haven’t read How Loathsome, I’ll check it out. However, I adore The Sandman. The difference I find is that The Sandman actually explores gender identity. API doesn’t explore it, it just defines it and moves on.

To be completely honest, I handed it to three other people I regularly game with, and asked them to start reading it. Each stopped and commented at the exact same spot. Each gave similar commentary.

I do understand your point, and it’s valid. However, I really don’t think a game book needs to define those sorts of things. It’s unnecessary and condescending. If I’m writing an RPG, I don’t spend time explaining what male means, what female means, or what hair means. Widely accepted real-world terminology, particularly of sensitive nature, doesn’t need to be defined in game books. Even if the game WAS about exploring sexuality, I wouldn’t see it as necessary.

Also, definition narrows the use of the word or concept. If you simplify things, the opportunity for exploration is artificially limited. “He’s Islamic” becomes a label. There are thousands of nuances you could explore, hundreds of faiths and practices you could be talking about. “He’s gay,” could mean a number of things. It could encompass a number of lifestyle choices, it could encompass a number of stories you could tell. However, it’s been defined within the scope of the game. The definition given is “Sexually attracted to other men.” It becomes a game-world definition at that point, as far as I’m concerned.

Are you gay?

While I agree that gender identity and sexuality is a deep topic, and I don’t think API is necessarily the game to explore the topic, I do disagree that a gaming book is any less capable of exploring the topic than any other media. It’s similar to saying that comic books can only be about spandex-clad heroes and villains, and isn’t the place to discuss gender identity. If you do happen to hold that belief, I’d point you to Neil Gaiman’s Sandman and Ted Naifeh and Tristan Crane’s How Loathsome.

As a boy who, admittedly, likes boys, I don’t have a problem with API giving a quick definition in passing. In fact, I think the cursory treatment it gives speaks well for tolerance. It’s treated as no big deal because it is no big deal.

No matter how much gay or transgendered characters might be ignored by your average gamer, we still don’t need to be told what either of those words mean. If we need to get our definitions of sexual/gender lifestyles from a gaming book, we SHOULDN’T be getting our definitions of sexual/gender lifestyles from a gaming book.

Writing style is subjective to a degree, I will stand by that sentiment. That having been said, I didn’t mention the writing in the review for that reason. It’s a difficult read, and the previously mentioned detachment was actually echoed in a few opinions in the notes given to me by the group I played the game with.

A writer’s skill can improve. However, the book cannot. Once the words are published, they are published. It doesn’t matter how much the writer’s ability to convey a message improves. Once that message is in the hands of the buying public, it cannot be improved. It doesn’t mean he’s not a quality writer. It doesn’t mean he didn’t have good ideas. Do I think the message of the book could have been better communicated? Absolutely, and more than in the average rpg. Style should compliment vision, not clash and contrast with it. If you want to write a book about funny things, write humorously. If you want to write horror, write your book full of suspense. If you want to write fantasy, make the writing full of fantastic description. If your style doesn’t match your vision, you’re not going to communicate your message.

Can the writer improve? Surely. Even the best writers can. Will he ever write on your wavelength? Perhaps not.

Interestingly, the writer of the book is a non-white living in the American south. Perhaps that contributes to the perspective that seems off to you in the racism section?

I will defer to the comment about the future. I don’t recall a “this is the present” statement off-hand, but I’ll get to the reason in a moment. The book has a “this story is set right about noon tomorrow” feel to it, if that makes any sense.

In reference to the term “post-apocalyptic,” I used the wrong term. I actually meant apocalyptic. The sense the setting gives me is less that the apocalypse is something that could happen in the future. The urgency and mood actually seem to me more like API is holding back an apocalypse that’s already starting, putting a finger in a proverbial dike.

That gets me to my next point. I actually tried to read the game carefully. It was a laborious effort. When I read for a review, usually what I do is skim once, take some notes on things that I want to touch on, then I read through thoroughly. I can honestly say that I had difficulty with it because of the writing. In places, the reading was a chore. It could have benefited from being as punchy, sharp, and witty as the setting was described as. There’s a certain detachment between the game and the writing. The words I was reading were academically telling me “cool, action, horror, fun, labor of love” while artistically telling me, “textbook, matter-of-fact, have to get the words down just to get them down.”

Added to the fact that often the writing often insults the intelligence of the reader (the example about explaining what the word “gay” means presents that well,) it was altogether a difficult read. When it comes down to it, that’s probably the largest flaw in the book. It might be a far better game than I’m giving credit for. But I’ll never know because of the presentation.

To be honest, that you missed something so integral to the game makes me wonder how carefully you read the game.