Choose one of the following numbered definitions of Lyric Games.
Whenever anyone talks about lyric games, first assume that they have the exact same definition as you, unless they make it clear they do not. Then fervently defend your own definition until the conversation becomes unpleasant or combative.
If you got angry, hurt, scared, depressed, anxious, amused or tickled at any point during the conversation, you must now switch to a different definition- you may choose which one in any way you like. You cannot switch back to a definition you’ve picked before.
Stop playing when you switch to definition nine. You are no longer allowed to talk about lyric games and you cannot listen to anyone else talk about them. You have either won or lost the game.
1. "Lyric Games all the way down"
Lyric Games are a broad term for any short, experimental role-playing and story games, including ones made before and after the coining of the term “lyric game” and those created after the heyday of lyric games (as a movement).
2. "Never let it go"
Lyric Games are a movement (or even just a moment) that happened mostly on Twitter and itch.io. Some of the key figures continue to produce Lyric Games, and their influence reverberates on newer experimental games but continued use of the term is largely just marketing (or more accurately signaling to an incredibly tiny and specific audience of mostly game designers).
3. "The Librarian's Dream"
Lyric Games are a very specific kind of role-playing and storytelling game. There are criteria to determine whether or not something is a lyric game, and that criteria probably includes: collapse of player and role, and reading as play. It might also include standards of length (short texts or playtimes), solo play, intentional unplayability (or provocative ambiguity), bleed or emotional impact as a design goal, narrow focus on experienced rather than structured narrative, experimental intent, autobiographical elements, or any number of other criteria. How the criteria is evaluated is up to the person designing the rubric. Some factors might be necessary, some might be sufficient, some might be only necessary unless a certain set of other criteria are met or a preponderance of other factors are met, some might be sufficient only when in combination with other criteria. Make up your own rubric in as much detail as you like.
3a. "Proving the Rule"
As above, make up your own rubric in as much detail as you like, but you must include an exception for exactly one game that you absolutely consider a lyric game that does not meet the criteria.
4. "The author lives!"
Lyric Games are any games that their designer describes as a lyric game.
5. “I know it when I see it”
Lyric games are any games that you say are lyric games.
6. “You’re absolutely right”
Lyric games are any games that the person you are talking to says are lyric games.
7. “Appeal to authority”
Lyric games are any games that your favorite game designer or theorist says are lyric games.
8. "Tevye is also right"
Lyric Games are any games that anyone anywhere describes as a lyric game.
9. "Endgame"
There is no such thing as a lyric game.
10. "Categories should be useful."
There is only one lyric game, and it is *insert specific game here*
This was honestly a coincidence, I had just finished up this game and decided to lay it out with some lovely Rackham art and the next day went to look at what physical game jams were running to see if there's anything I wanted to jump in on for next month, and here was a jam for the game I just finished. Excited to read the other entries in this jam.
A slim little game that efficiently reduces sword and sorcery role-playing to one business card each for the adventurer and for the world (GM-ish player). Each have a few flexible questions they're responsible for asking and answering, a focus on productive collaboration, and a simple opposed 2d6 roll for dealing with difficult situations.
Sweet-natured little game of telling fish stories and catching fish in outer space with your friends. Includes a little oracle to inspire the stories you tell each other and a very simple mechanic to decide whether you caught a fish or not as you told it. While not mechanically complex, it strikes a delicate tone suitable for fishing trips in the cosmos.
Cute little game-poem (in the old-fashioned sense of the phrase that probably no one uses anymore) about trying to convince your fellow tavern-goers to escape the mimic you're all currently inside. Not a lot of guidance or external creative inputs, but if your group are comfortable with improv and steeped in dragon game tropes it should be a good time.
