Starkadder: well put, and exactly right.
Back in the late 1970s, I lived in an area where few people were interested in gaming. I saw an ad for Starweb in the back of an issue of Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. I bought the rules, started my first game, and my world expanded to include thousands of other people who liked what I liked. That was the essential appeal of play-by-mail gaming. None of the games themselves were particularly inspired or revolutionary; it was the large player base that made them attractive. I couldn't get that anywhere else.
What's changed? Not the games; they're still the same as they were decades ago, except that instead of thousands playing them, there are now dozens playing them, and it's the same people popping up in each game. Where's the appeal?
Nowadays, I can find hundreds of free games online, with a virtually bottomless player base. I don't much care what they're called. They're games.
Things wear out over time, and play-by-mail gaming is one of them. It was great while it lasted. Companies like Madhouse and maybe a few others do still make a nice secondary income from their games, but that's the extent of it. Somewhere on this forum, Rick McDowell boasted that he'd started 20 games of Alamaze, a re-engineered play-by-mail game that "old guys" played "30 years ago" (and which ironically is promoted with snippets from reviews in defunct play-by-mail magazines from 30 years ago). I believe Rick has done more to promote Alamaze than most moderators do to promote their games, and yet the thoroughly underwhelming results speak for themselves.
Nicky Palmer and I have been playing a bunch of games of "Through the Ages" on BoardGameGeeks.com. Free. Always new opponents. Turn-based. I don't think of it as a play-by-mail game. I don't think of it as anything, really. If it needs a label, I suppose Steve Tierney's "turn-based gaming" works well enough. But what brings me back is the decent game play and the big player base. Thirty years ago, I'd have had to pay for that. Now I don't. Why would I go back, no matter what you call it?
Back in the late 1970s, I lived in an area where few people were interested in gaming. I saw an ad for Starweb in the back of an issue of Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. I bought the rules, started my first game, and my world expanded to include thousands of other people who liked what I liked. That was the essential appeal of play-by-mail gaming. None of the games themselves were particularly inspired or revolutionary; it was the large player base that made them attractive. I couldn't get that anywhere else.
What's changed? Not the games; they're still the same as they were decades ago, except that instead of thousands playing them, there are now dozens playing them, and it's the same people popping up in each game. Where's the appeal?
Nowadays, I can find hundreds of free games online, with a virtually bottomless player base. I don't much care what they're called. They're games.
Things wear out over time, and play-by-mail gaming is one of them. It was great while it lasted. Companies like Madhouse and maybe a few others do still make a nice secondary income from their games, but that's the extent of it. Somewhere on this forum, Rick McDowell boasted that he'd started 20 games of Alamaze, a re-engineered play-by-mail game that "old guys" played "30 years ago" (and which ironically is promoted with snippets from reviews in defunct play-by-mail magazines from 30 years ago). I believe Rick has done more to promote Alamaze than most moderators do to promote their games, and yet the thoroughly underwhelming results speak for themselves.
Nicky Palmer and I have been playing a bunch of games of "Through the Ages" on BoardGameGeeks.com. Free. Always new opponents. Turn-based. I don't think of it as a play-by-mail game. I don't think of it as anything, really. If it needs a label, I suppose Steve Tierney's "turn-based gaming" works well enough. But what brings me back is the decent game play and the big player base. Thirty years ago, I'd have had to pay for that. Now I don't. Why would I go back, no matter what you call it?