Money, money, money, money... Money.

This is the first of what I hope will be more joint topic posts that I make with Lotus Ceriano at her awesome blog, Lotus-Pocus. We were chatting about topics and discovered we were both thinking of posting about money, and after a brief spell of, "You go ahead," "No, you go ahead," we found we were going to be addressing pretty different aspects of the same general theme. So I'm taking on the players' side, and she's going to be discussing the club owners' side. Hopefully we'll be finishing up near enough in time that these can be read together.

Front: Hacob Hollwood and Hilda Static. Back: Niina Jenvieve, me, and Sinnamon Sands. "Win Thorn's Money" trivia at Double Standards

From the Ground Up

Not all trivia in SL is played for money. Gogomodo proliferates in many nooks and crannies, and... well, I can't really think of any other common examples. So I guess it won't be off the mark to say that nearly all trivia in SL is played for money. When I was a poor noob, my first friend and mentor took me to a dance club with a trivia orb running, and I pretty much swept the game, L$5 at a time. Since the noob wardrobe is typically substandard, and the "Best in..." contests this friend pretty much thrived on were beyond my reach, trivia quickly became my primary source of income, and that remains the case today.

The amount of money a game pays off matters, but how much does it matter? Who does it matter to, and why? Does it stand on its own as a factor or does it interact with others in building the sense of a game?

It might be because club Shiraz is the place I've been attending the longest and still the most often, or it might be because of the whole range of payouts across the trivia landscape, but I sort of see L$20 per question as a baseline, and before I began spreading out in order to write up new games for this blog, any game that paid less than L$20 didn't really capture my attention. It wasn't just that the money wasn't worth my time but that I almost didn't take such games seriously. Money attracts competition, and it's a lot more fun to win money when you're beating out speed demons and brainiacs than when you're beating out folks who aren't really either. One might say I grew out of the L$5-per-question stage.

I'm not so much of a snob these days; there are some games paying out L$10 or L$15 that are a lot of fun and worth going to, and there are some (well, one, really) that pays out well but, frankly, isn't that high on the joy scale. Obviously, every game is a balance of factors: quality of the questions, effectiveness of the format, personality of the host(s), atmosphere of the location, friendliness of the crowd, and -- last but not least -- money. If a place is strong enough where all those other factors are concerned, then you can have a bunch of friends kvetching around a gogomodo board (or several), earning no money but running up a location's team score. But those scenarios are rare, and winnings, I'd suggest, aren't just a draw because people like money but because the presence of money changes the balance of all of those factors.

I pretty much stuck to Shiraz over my first summer in SL, only branching out gradually. Come fall, though, I was starting to discover that elsewhere, I could win enough not just for a couple of cute dresses a week but to rent a home. AllieKatt Knipper's games, with their healthy bonuses, Thorn's with the first three-winner format I'd played, and eventually Chadd and Shale's first Shotgun games (at which I won only one question at the first game, but it was for something like L$800 and was about sashimi [you don't forget your first L$800 question]), gave me a new perspective on how cash can alter the fabric of a game. By December, I'd begun going to Marine Park and had reached trivia winnings nirvana.

Marine Park Mardi Gras, February 27, where players got paid not only for trivia but for telling ghost stories, flashing their boobs, and dressing for the Bests contest. (Sorry, too long ago for me to remember who is pictured here.)

No Post on Winnings is Complete Without Talking About...

I was winning too much to spend, actually, and that's one of the reasons I collaborated with Thorn to develop the Buccaneer Bowl, began paying for questions at Chaos (the truth or dare challenge was the only prize offered there for the first five or six months it was running), and eventually started conducting spontaneous trivia games in Impromptu Garden.

For those who are still unfamiliar with the enigma that is Marine Park, it is a long-running, three-winner trivia venue where the prizes are a minimum of L$300/200/100 per question and sometimes more. There is an entrance fee (L$100 lately), and you can't always find it by searching for "trivia"; you need to type in "Marine Park," and events are added and deleted regularly. People have mostly discovered it by word of mouth, and many go only once and decide the money isn't worth it to return, or that the stress over trying to make their entrance fee back isn't worth it. Others become addicted. (/me raises hand)

When people hear about MP and its winnings for the first time, they often ask, "How can money like that not be worth it? Worth what?" Well. Let me try being diplomatic about this. They're strict. They have very rigid rules of conduct that drain the game of any kind of social element it might otherwise have, and -- I'd say this is an even stronger aspect -- they create a nerve-wracking (for some) atmosphere with a patently hierarchical and socially segregated host/guest structure and an infamous tendency to ban people arbitrarily, with no explanation, and with no opportunity for recourse. And they seem to be completely oblivious that there's anything odd or questionable about that.

The funny thing is, all of this added to the excitement of the game there for me. The winnings raised the stakes and made the competition feel more fierce, even when I found myself scrambling to answer questions like, "What is your favorite animal?" Even the rules (speaking during the trivia is discouraged, for instance) and the owner's tendency to spring the next question without warning contributed to a more thrilling game. You frequently hear people say they attend Marine Park games "just for the money," but I believe the money element operates not only directly but indirectly, and that it is the indirect impact that is or was stronger for some of us. It draws in some of SL's best players, which makes a successful game that much more exciting, and although it makes the atmosphere tense, it also makes the atmosphere serious. I've never had qualms with the silence rule (though I have major qualms with their means of enforcing it) and think it contributes positively to MP's MP-ness, even as it becomes something people "put up with" because they want the cash.

Lillian Shippe, Bucc Bowl banker

Such a Thing As Too Much?

I certainly hope that there aren't equivalent aspects of Bucc Bowl that people put up with because they simply want the cash. I can't do a similar kind of analysis about the effects of money on Bucc Bowl because I don't experience it as a player, but there are a few things that were important to me in designing the format. First, we decided to make it high-paying because unlike most games, players need to make the full two-hour time commitment -- they can't just pop in and out as they wish -- and we wanted to make that time commitment worth their while. There is also some pre-game organization required of not only planners but players as well, and so it seemed appropriate to reward that effort. Second, after the extremely laggy first game and the institution of ARC bonuses, we were pleased to find that it relieves a concern we originally had: that it would be possible for people to make that entire time commitment and work to put a team together and still leave empty-handed. Now, if anyone does leave with nothing, it's only because they decided to prioritize appearance (at a game where many people turn their rendering off anyway) over sim performance.

But there is another side of giving away a lot of money that I've framed positively in this post but that not everyone necessarily sees as a good thing: money, as I've noted several times, draws competition. And although I love the adrenaline rush that increased competition gives me, I recognize that for some people, there is such a thing as too much. Although we get a lot of positive accolades for Bucc Bowl, as well as some constructive criticism, the one recurring complaint is that it's very stressful. Teams invest a lot of work and strategy in choosing players, and they don't want to make a poor showing, more for the sake of their teams than for themselves. Many people want to attend for the first time without playing, in order to see what the big deal is before committing to a team, but the sim's avatar capacity makes it difficult to grant every request. I believe that the fact that your performance affects not only yourself but your teammates, as well, is probably the most significant factor in the stress level, but the money once again plays both a direct and an indirect part. It shapes the game's atmosphere, for better or for worse, and I honestly can't see Bucc Bowl functioning for less than L$10,000 per game (the minimum total payout if there are no ties and no one complies with the ARC bonus).

We've created something that I acknowledge might be just as nerve-wracking as Marine Park, but for entirely different reasons (I, for instance, am capable of scrolling through chat to find the three winners out of 35 players while people are socializing). With games like these, I'll be the first to admit that it's kind of nice sometimes just to go to a 20-question, L$20 game, relax, and hang out when there's nothing on the line but your own pride in getting an answer in first. Nonetheless, in my case, the only reason I'm able to relax in this way is that I saved up enough money before being banned from MP that I now see the winnings elsewhere as merely symbolic, and I usually tip most or all of it back.

But I can only speak for myself. Here are the questions I asked at the beginning of this post, once more: The amount of money a game pays off matters, but how much does it matter? Who does it matter to, and why? Does it stand on its own as a factor or does it interact with others in building the sense of a game?

What do you think?

Lemmings: the official mascot of SL trivia. Cinna "The Lemming" Xaris in foreground; AnaMaria "every day is Thorn day" Quintessa and Chaddington "I like to watch lemmings" Boomhauer in background.

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Up For Discussion: Timing

I observed not too long ago that most trivia games run at a pace of ten to twenty questions per hour, usually filling two-hour event blocks. There's a huge difference between these extremes in terms of how the rest of the time gets used. A good host can make a game enjoyable regardless of the amount of time between questions, and some games seem to drag regardless of actual pacing. And of course a critical factor is whether trivia is the only thing taking place at the event or if there are other activities keeping players occupied, like sploders and dancing.

I've occasionally heard people complain about the pace of slow games, whether it's about starting too late, waiting too long between questions, or sitting through a forty-minute intermission that was supposed to be fifteen. These complaints are rare among trivia regulars (besides the one about the forty-minute intermission, which is an ongoing joke), and pretty much only trivia newbies lack the tact to do it privately. But I've never heard anyone complain about a game moving too quickly, which makes me wonder why most hosts tend to opt for games with sparser question formats.

When I started doing impromptu trivias, I made it a point to try wrapping up the twenty questions within an hour (though bonus questions extend past that) because they take place in my garden, not at a club, and there's pretty much nothing else going on there except the trivia and watching the turtle walk around when I happen to have it rezzed. Also, the concept behind them recommends it: I'm asking people to come over at the last minute for trivia; I'm not going to make them wait for it.

There are reasons for slower pacing, though, and one of my other games -- Chaos Trivia/Truth or Dare -- falls at the other end of the spectrum for that, and a lot of effort goes into managing the pacing of this game for exactly that reason. There's much more going on at Chaos than trivia: when a player gets a question right, he or she wins the opportunity to challenge another player to a truth or dare. Some of these are quick (such as the dare to shout across the sim that you want to have sex with a chosen person), while some are much longer (those who put the most effort into the dare to IM something erotic to three people in the group tend to spend a lengthy chunk of time composing their messages).

My cohost Reke Wezzog and I try to move things along by paying attention to how much time is elapsing and by allowing people to complete longer dares while we continue asking questions, but much of the pacing depends on the players, the truths and dares involved, whether people are afk when they're challenged, whether a person completing a truth is a slow or a fast typist, the time it takes to find props for certain dares, etc. As a result, it's not unusual for ten or more minutes to go by between questions, though we try to keep it closer to five. In addition, I've recently begun turning my typing animation on while hosting Chaos specifically so that I don't appear to be silent or absent when I'm typing in between the times when something is more clearly taking place or when I'm answering a truth question. I started doing this when I noticed that players who use typing animation make it easier for us to gauge timing because we can tell if they're finished completing a truth or a chatty dare.

The point, though, is that the best pacing for a game is relative and hinges on a number of factors, at least when there are factors other than the trivia to take into account. Nonetheless, the questions remain: What's your pacing preference, both as players and as hosts? Does timing affect which games you choose to go to? If you host, are you conscious of pacing and/or did you use it as a factor in designing your game? If you prefer a more relaxed pace as a player, why?

Jasmina Kline hosting trivia at Charitable Bliss

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Up For Discussion: The Plink

plink \plink\ vb : plinked ; plinking : to taunt a trivia player who is playing well and standing out in a game

plinker \`plink-ər\ n : one who plinks

This is a word that a friend and I made up because we wanted an easy way to describe this phenomenon, to be able to say, "Hey, I just got plinked." The taunting involved in plinking can take many forms, but here are some examples from one time that I was plinked:

[2009/02/24 18:52] Plinky Plinklesworth: damn .. someone pls break Lette's keyboard

[2009/02/24 18:56] Plinky Plinklesworth: ok, time to slip Lette a computer virus

[2009/02/24 18:59] Plinky Plinklesworth: wow ... did Lette get that? there's a surprise

This person is a serial plinker. Two days later, he'd moved on from plinking me and was hitting that night's standout:

[2009/02/26 18:15] Plinky Plinklesworth: someone break Olm's keyboard

When I was brand new to SL trivia, I actually saw it as a compliment to get this sort of attention. Over time, though, it became more and more trite. There aren't too many people for whom every single game is a stunner, which means that for most of us, when we do have a good one, it can be an exciting moment. There's a minor high involved. And for someone to call attention to your performance in such a way that isn't about "Hey, great job tonight," but rather implies something less supportive, it can be a let-down at best and seriously aggravating at worst.

Sure, it's just teasing and is therefore theoretically harmless, but this is one of those instances where it's important to remember there are people with feelings behind the avs, and although many people are able to brush off the plink, I also know others who get so self-conscious that they essentially stop playing for the remainder of the game. In that first example, the plinker in question was pretty benign. I responded to him with friendly banter, and eventually we became friends. Others, however, don't really know when to stop:

[2009/01/08 19:54] Plinkelle Plinklewood: lette needs to share their lindens...hmm

[2009/01/08 19:54] Plinkelle Plinklewood: ahh we can just put a hit on ya

[2009/01/12 18:12] Plinkelle Plinklewood: someone put handcuffs on her so she cant type

[2009/01/29 18:22] Plinkelle Plinklewood: someone blow her off the sim pls

Over time, this person got more and more aggressive with the plinking. The night of that last comment, she and I had a falling out about where the line is between tolerable and intolerable plinking. For me, when it veered toward threats to bodily harm, that's when it stopped being ordinary teasing and became misplaced aggression.

Mythology night at Blaizing Inferno

Plinkers are often, but not always, people new to the game or people who aren't very strong players and would be plinking anyone at all who stood out. When I get teased by someone who consistently answers in second place to me, it has an entirely different feel. The vibe to that tends to be more of competition mixed with mutual admiration. However, this type of teasing might constitute plinking to someone else. There is no black-or-white when it comes to what is plinking and what is not, because different people may interpret different scenarios differently. But there do tend to be some things that get me more than others.

Plinking becomes irritating when the people who do it seem to think that their comments are somehow funny or original, not realizing that the veterans among us have been hearing the same lines ad nauseum since we started playing. When it happens to me, I usually respond by saying, "If _____ were here, I probably wouldn't be your target." And it's true. Although I seldom fail miserably in a game, I'm also not usually the standout player, so when I am, I don't generally appreciate a response that implies that I shouldn't be, even if it's delivered in fun. When I give the "If _____ were here" response, I'm trying to point out to the plinker that I'm not that amazing, I'm just convenient. That strategy hasn't been effective yet, though, so I'm looking for other ways to respond that don't sound like an over-reaction.

It's annoying also because when new people do it, they're missing the broader context that these games take place in, and when more regular people do it, it just gets old. For instance, in the last Plinkelle example, I had only answered two questions correctly that night before she asked for someone to blow me out of the sim. Who wants to play under those conditions? Do they think it's still funny the eleventh time they say it? Apparently at least some do. I asked Pinkelle to cool it once her comments headed into violent territory, and she thought that was a joke, too. She seemed to have no perception that even the mild comments could be annoying. In my guide to people new to SL trivia, I suggested that if you plink (though I didn't use the word in that post), be cognizant of how your target responds, and if they don't seem to be playing along, then don't push.

I have my own theories about where the tendency to plink comes from, but I'll stop here and let others comment. Why do people plink? How do you feel when they plink? Do you respond when they do it to you? when you see them do it to others? Are there some types that are annoying to you and others that aren't? Or do you even find it complimentary, like I did when I was new? If you've ever been a plinker, why have you done it? What are some good strategies to responding to plinking that don't make you look like you have no sense of humor?

Fairy tale night at Blaizing Inferno, with some people arriving from Shiraz's sports night

Credit goes to Lou Netizen for coining the term "plink."
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Up For Discussion: Alt! Who Goes There?

Last weekend, I learned that someone had outed my alt to a few people, two of whom already knew about it. The harm at that end was not major because I've more or less regarded it as an open secret anyway, that people who didn't care didn't know, while people who enjoy alt hunting probably figured it out already. I also don't use my alt for any truly deceptive purposes, so it's not like I was caught with my pants down about anything.

I use my alt for two reasons: 1) because different sides of my personality come out when I'm using each avatar, and I have ended up with a different social dynamic when I go to places; sometimes I just feel more connected to the social group with one than with the other; and 2) because Lette Ponnier is really frigging busy, and it's nice to have a lesser-known av that doesn't have to do announcements and host games but can still play trivia and talk with the friends who know that both are me. I can deal with trivia business to whatever extent I want with my alt, and if the person I'm talking to wants to get too professional on me, I can just say, "Sorry, but I left that info in my other inventory."

There were other reasons that I was upset about what happened; in particular, there was disclosure of RL info in the mix, too, for which I ARed his ass. What made me really upset, though, was the moral arrogance he conveyed throughout the entire thing. He seemed to consider the use of alts inherently wrong and deceptive, regardless of their purpose. When one of his confidantes informed him that she too had more than one av, he merely expressed shock and ended the conversation. To my knowledge he hasn't chatted with her since. Plenty of people don't use alts and don't ever want to, but this attitude of moral righteousness was a first for me. It seems like it hadn't occurred to him that alts, far from being the tools of the wicked, are often part of the day-to-day of SL. The room I was in when I heard about what happened contained at least nine people whom I knew had more than one avatar... and that's only the people I knew of.

So here are some questions, and don't forget that if you want to post anonymously, you may do so. How do you feel about alts? In trivia or otherwise? Do you have any? What do you use them for? Do you have any experiences, good or bad, that have contributed to how you feel about them? Are there things that you're ok with people using alts for and others you're not? If so, what? If you don't have alts, why not? And because this is a trivia blog, I'd be especially interested to know how the use or non-use of alts figures into playing or hosting for you, including whether your awareness of alts affects how you run an event.

Now posting from:

Rev, Nelly, Maggie, Pinklady, Sharon, and Carrie avoid the diner smells by hanging in the lot

Sharon's Diner holds trivia most weekday mornings from 9:00 to 11:00am, http://slurl.com/secondlife/Doldari/113/120/67

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Up For Discussion: Contested Terrain

Most of the time we're able to get along just fine and dandy in trivia games: the host asks the questions, the players give the answers, and even if a question is a little weak, we realize that at all but a few games, the prizes essentially add up to around ten cents in American money per question, so we might comment (kindly or snarkily) and move on. But inevitably, eventually, someone has a much bigger bone to pick over a question. I've also seen and experienced a minor grumble about the phrasing of a question get interpreted as a challenge to the host and escalate beyond where the complainer intended it to go (because after all, Puerto Rico is not a country, I promise).

So here are some questions. As a player, have you ever challenged a host on a question? Under what circumstances? What kinds of challenges do you believe are legitimate and what kinds aren't? Have you seen any challenges take place that especially rankled you or that you thought were appropriate? If you're a host, have you had any particularly uncomfortable run-ins? And most importantly, how do you handle it when one of your questions is challenged?

I want to thank Lotus Ceriano for providing this idea for a discussion topic.

Lacey Lukas and Cybershot Dover cut a hardwood floor at Shorty's Ice House

Lacey hosts trivia there Thursdays at noon: http://slurl.com/secondlife/Magnolia%20Falls/205/40/22

Up For Discussion: The Google Factor

It seems like everyone has a position on using Google and other search engines during trivia. Some see no problem with it or even consider it a method of "research." Others consider it cheating, or at least a lesser form of trivia playing. I'd like to use this as the first topic of discussion on the new blog. Please post your thoughts: pro, con, or indifferent (if anyone is actually indifferent about this).

Do you Google? If so, why? If not, why not? Does it bother you when others do it? If you host, do you ask the players to refrain? Resign yourself to the fact that some will? Try to design questions that are "google-proof"? Discuss!

Now posting from:


Blaizing Inferno: http://slurl.com/secondlife/Charmed%20Beach%20Isle/96/77/711