Thursday, July 31, 2025

Scheduling Conflicts

Let's just dive right in.

In slum-bagging it through the ol' Reddit detritus for a cheap-ass "Dear JB" to write, I am constantly assailed with post after post of people bitching about "scheduling:" how hard it is to get a day and time set when EVERYone can attend, or moaning and complaining when people miss a session or drop out because of rando stuff like "work" or "school" or "family."

*sigh*

Once upon a time, we lived in a world where there were far less concerns pressing down on us for our time and attention. There was no internet, no YouTub, no streaming services, no 5 billion different TV shows and movies to watch "on demand." There were no smart phones, no SnapChat, no Instagram, no "Meta," no discord channels to surf for hours on end. There were no pay-to-play phone games that ate up every last free minute that we might have to otherwise use for...oh, I don't know...THOUGHTS and REFLECTIONS or SIMPLE DAYDREAMING. The kind of stuff that would lead to ideas that one could work into their D&D game.

We lived in a simpler age where children were not being trained as polymaths, with music lessons and athletic activities and language classes all going on Every Night Of The Week. Instead you were either a "sporty kid" (with a couple of practices per week and a game on the weekend) OR some sort of arty kid (with a weekly piano lesson or acting class or something) and pretty much no other obligations aside from school, an hour of spiritual worship (pick your religion), and maybe a night of Boy Scouts or Campfire or whatever.

TIME. That precious commodity. We have given away So Much Of It over the years. I know I have...and my family as well. Now it's just a struggle...a struggle to find time to exercise (because it's good for me), to find time to sleep (because it's good for me), to find quality time with my family (because it's good for me), to find time to pursue my own ambitions and creative endeavors (because they're good for me, too). 

Where to fit gaming into this mix? There's not enough hours in the day.

Our time on this planet as humans is finite. We get (roughly) 120 years allotted to us, and this gets reduced considerably by our lifestyle choices...to the point that if we can cross the 90 year mark, most of us are celebrating like we won the lottery (and those last 15-20 years can be fairly burdensome ones to get through, depending on overall health). Those years are broken up into seasons filled with months filled with days and nights filled with hours...and many of those hours are accounted for, just for the sake of the necessaries of keeping us alive. We must sleep, frustrating as that may be...in a million years of evolutionary adaptation, no mutation has come along that keeps us from needing to spend one-third of our lives in an unconscious state.

SO...16 hours a day, 7 days a week for a grand total of 112 hours. Say you spend 40 hours of that on your "job" (whatever that is), 4 hours a day (28 total) on food preparation and consumption, another eight hours per week on bathroom activities (including bathing, grooming, teeth, waste elimination), three hours per week on "moderate exercise" (a bit more than recommended for optimal health but whatever), and, say, another 8 hours for home cleaning / maintenance (varies depending on division of labor in the household, need for lawn care, etc.). Of course some people commute (let's go five hours per week), and maybe you have a weekly "movie night," play, or sporting event with your family or roommates as a bonding activity...call that four hours. That leaves you with...what...16 total hours? That's a full day, right?

But, of course, it's never that easy. And even with those (fairly conservative) estimates time just keeps on slippin-slippin-slippin into the future. The only way you can guarantee your D&D game will happen is if YOU, Mr./Ms, DM makes it a priority to happen. 

Give yourself a four hour window. Pick a day and time that works for you Every Single Time, and commit to that. You don't schedule other activities that day. You plan your daily routines AROUND that time. You honor that time slot the same way you would honor any other important commitment...the same way you would with, say, your job or a university class. You put it on the calendar...weekly, semi-weekly, monthly, whatever...and you stick to it. And when the time comes up, you sit down in your seat (wherever that seat might be) prepared to run the game. 

That's how it works. Long term, that's the ONLY way that works. This haphazard, catch-as-catch-can method of tooling around everyone's schedule, making adjustments on the fly, etc. is all just exhausting, non-productive NONSENSE...and it will, eventually, derail your campaign, no matter how much effort you apply to "making it work."  

The session day/time only has to work for one person: the Dungeon Master. Without the DM, there's no game so, guess what? The DM is the priority.

Once you have your set session date, you inform your potential players of the date. And the players can decide if it works for their schedule, and whether or not the DM's game (YOUR game) is going to be a priority for their busy-busy lives. And maybe it won't be. Maybe they're not available on Thursdays from 6pm to 10pm. Maybe they have church obligations on Sunday mornings. Maybe their kid's soccer club takes them out of town on a lot of Saturdays and that's just not in the cards for them.

That's okay. You're not running a D&D game for your players. You're running D&D because you love it and you want to run it. 

If that's NOT the case...well, heck, I don't know what I can tell you. I love running D&D for my kids...Love! It!...but I don't run D&D for THEM. I run D&D because I love running D&D. If they did not want to play (because they have other obligations, priorities, friends, whatever), I would still run D&D. Because I love running D&D. I ran it before they were born. And I plan to run it even after they've moved out of the house and have lives (and, perhaps, D&D campaigns) of their own. 

It's not about the players. A solid, committed Dungeon Master can always get new players.

So, then, what happens if you HAVE players but one or more of them don't show up to the game? What do you do then?

Easy. When that happens, you just run the game for the players you do have.

As said, the players really don't matter. I don't design adventure scenarios for specific players...I just design adventure scenarios. My mind is on the world and the scenario, NOT on how the players will interact with it. I can't predict how the players will interact. I can't anticipate what they'll do when/if bad luck strikes and (for example) kills the cleric. Will the players abandon the dungeon? Roll up a new cleric? Decide to hire the village priest (because now Bob wants to play an illusionist or something)? Who knows? Who cares? 

Not I. 

I don't worry a whit about what PCs Sally and Bill and Terry are bringing to the session. What concerns me is the part of my game world they're in, and what adventures are open to them in that part of the game world. These days, my players (kids) tend to head "straight to the dungeon" (as soon as they can locate one)...in my youth, my players would futz about a bit more in town, getting into trouble or pursuing various ambitions. All that's fine...eventually their wallets will be empty enough that they'll start looking for some loot-filled adventure or quest. All their grandest schemes (generally) require money anyway. Just as in real life. My job is to make sure there are things for them to do (i.e. adventures) because I'm the DM running the thing and that's my responsibility as a DM.

So it doesn't matter to me whether Sally blows off the session because she's got a date that night, or is writing a term paper or whatever. Sally's character won't be available to the party (because Sally's not available), but the rest of the players can still posse up and trek out to the dungeon. Sally's PC is "off doing something" (sleeping off a drunk, or shacked up with some dude, or meditating at the abbey, or whatever)...adventurers, like their players, are a notoriously flaky bunch. The question isn't "where's Sally's character," but rather "what do Bill and Terry want to do?" Sally's PC can always 'catch up later.'

But what about players skipping a session in the middle of an adventure?

Ah, yes...always a possibility as, depending on how a session goes, it is not unusual for me to end a session with the PCs still two levels underground in some (probably corpse strewn) chamber, bagging coins from some newly discovered treasure chest. This is COMMON...I don't force players to 'return to town' at the end of sessions, and for long adventures (like the D-series of modules or some plane-traipsing extravaganza) such a return trip might be practically infeasible. So then: how do you, DM, explain when the next session opens and Bill can't make it because he came down with the flu? His ranger was bagging gold with the rest of the party at the end of last session, what now?

Again, easy enough: the ranger has gone missing. He stepped outside the chamber to answer the call of nature, or eat some rations without being assaulted by the smell of dead hobgoblin, and got turned around and lost somewhere in the dungeon. While the rest of the party sets about exploring (i.e. participating in the adventure) THIS session, Bill's ranger is hiding and/or wandering trying to find his way back to the party, avoiding wandering monsters, and trying not to get killed. Hopefully, Bill the player will be back to full health by the following session, and the ranger can "rediscover" the party...either in the dungeon or back in town.

But what happened to Bill's ranger "off screen?" Nothing of import. He fought nothing. He found nothing. He expended no resources. Maybe he used a torch...and subsequently found a replacement. Through ranger craftiness or blind, stinking luck he somehow managed to avoid combat and confrontation, and avoided falling prey to a trap. Perhaps he was paralyzed with fear and simply didn't move around much. Perhaps he knows the old ranger adage "when you get lost, stay in one place" and just waited for the other party members to find him. Who knows? But GAME-WISE he did nothing to warrant any change in his character sheet with regard to hit points, experience points, treasure tallies, nada. Somehow, his character just "lucked out."

And if Bill actually quits the game...say, he gets a job that precludes him from re-joining the Tuesday evening session the DM has scheduled...then something terrible has befallen his character. It was eaten by a wandering otyugh or something. Them's the breaks.

[unless the DM wants to use Bill's character as an NPC, of course]

You see, it really doesn't matter whether or not a player or three skip a session; the D&D game is not about individual players. Frankly speaking, the D&D game is not "about" anything at all. The D&D game is just a game. As a DM, I run the game, and I get the great joy that such a creative endeavor brings. The players? They just get to play...if they show up.

Now I understand that a lot of folks who learned the game in a post-DragonLance era are going to have difficulty shifting their brain into the proper mindset because (since DL) so much ink has been spilled and words vomited proclaiming that D&D is "telling a story." And all stories are "about" something. And usually that thing they're "about" are the characters in the story. And you see how THAT logic...built on a faulty premise...leads one to the (wrong-headed) conclusion that the players (or, at least, their characters) are necessary to play the game.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The only thing that's necessary to play the game is a Dungeon Master, armed with the proper tools (rule books, dice, etc.). Got it? The ONLY thing. So as far as scheduling "conflicts" are concerned there's only one person whose time and availability matters. 

D&D is an activity...a powerful activity that has the ability to forge bonds of friendship between people. But the game isn't necessary for those bonds to be sustained...people can remain friends long after their time and participation in the game has ended. We make the mistake of thinking that these relationships we create through the activity are contingent on continual engagement with the activity...that we will LOSE our friends if we don't find a way to make the game work for everyone to play. This is inaccurate. As we move through life, we encounter different people in many different activities and environments: at jobs, at school, at clubs, at church, at events, in sports teams, etc. Some of the people we encounter "stick" with us...for whatever reason...and become part of our social circle. And just because we change jobs, leave school, quite the team, etc. doesn't mean we LOSE these friends...we can still see them, and interact with them, as much as works for our (finite amount of) time. It's not the schedule that matters; it's the prioritization of engagement. 

Don't fear loss. Embrace the friends you have. And make MORE friends, build MORE relationships, while engaging in the various activities (like D&D) that you do.

Happy Thursday, folks.
: )

1 comment:

  1. The consistent schedule is crucial; I can't imagine a long-term campaign functioning without it. Five-plus years in, the players have come and gone - mostly stayed - even as real-life obligations mean we're missing at least one regular once a month or more. Some show up via Zoom when they're sick. Hell, I've refereed to everyone remotely from the dining room table when the household was quarantined because I was upright and it was Friday night. I'm running the game, my kids are excited for the snacks that show up, and an empty chair means a kid is going to sit in and absorb the game as it unfolds.

    That same freedom that lets us hand-wave when a regular isn't here is the same that lets us welcome in a new player without having to explain squat. They're here. They're part of the team. Be nice to the new person who brought a six-pack, and let's get to it.

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