RPG Superstar Retrospective: A Personal Victory

Paizo's RPG Superstar Logo

Every year RPG publisher Paizo holds their “RPG Superstar” contest to look for new talent in the game design industry. Now, in addition to being a writer of children’s literature, I am also a hard-core gamer. I started playing RPGs when I was twelve years old (when my cousin introduced me to Dungeons & Dragons via the "Curse of the Azure Bonds" computer game), and I have been playing ever since.

This year Paizo hosted their contest twice in one year. My husband made it into the Top 32 of last season, and this season it was my turn. I’ve been entering the contest for about four years now and never truly thought I would make it far. For me, RPG Superstar was a personal challenge I set for myself. As I have mentioned in a previous post, I have struggled with dyscalculia my entire life. I’ve had a math teacher humiliate me in front of my entire class. I’ve had a guidance counselor tell me that I would never make it into college because of my low math scores. I’ve been told that I didn’t try hard enough, despite the fact that I poured over my text book with tears of frustration streaming down my face almost every night. Numbers, formulas, technical concepts… they simply do not click with me.

Despite the math heavy rules in many table-top role playing games, I have always enjoyed them. In fact, I think they have been the best math teacher I’ve ever had. It framed numbers and formulas in a way that was fun and made sense. After college, when I finally experienced the relief of discovering dyscalculia, I started to look to gaming as a way for me to casually practice my math skills. My gaming circle has always been incredibly patient with me in this regard. They understand I can’t calculate as quickly as everyone else, and give me the time I need to figure it out. They never coddle me or get frustrated when I am too slow. They understand my difficulties and are incredibly supportive.

RPG Superstar has not only been about my love of gaming, but also an extension of my desire to prove that I am not stupid. Entering every year has been a way for me to test myself; a way for me to overcome those nasty memories, and work toward helping myself to understand and apply mathematical concepts. Suffice to say, I never dreamed I would make it to the Top 32, let alone become a finalist!

The entire experience was overwhelming but very educational. There were some rounds I struggled more than others (the monster submission of Round 3), and others that I honestly just had pure fun with (map making in Round 2). The contest challenged my knowledge, abilities, and imagination, and I will admit that at times, it simply wasn’t fun. And when I say it wasn’t fun, I mean I was literally curled up, sobbing in a corner ready to raise the white flag. But every time I hit that point, I remembered the teachers who didn’t believe in me and it gave me the strength to continue. I had to prove to myself that they were wrong.

It’s evident to anyone who participated as a judge or voter that many of my entries lacked technical and systematic finesse. This is not something I will deny. It is absolutely a weak point of mine for obvious reasons mentioned above. But neither is it something I want to ever use as a crutch. The gaming industry demands a certain level of competence with technical skills (as they should), and I fought my hardest to develop those during the contest. I didn’t always succeed, but the point is I gave it my all and didn’t give up. I am quite proud of myself for that and all I accomplished.

I didn’t win, but I made it into the Final 4 and now have a chance to write a small adventure for Paizo. This was much farther than I ever dreamed I could make it. It means so much to me that so many were willing to overlook my flaws in favor of my strengths in concepts and imagination. That said, I am going to continue to work hard to grow my technical skills and gain the well-rounded edge I would like to have as a freelance game designer. I have learned much through this journey, but I still have much more to learn. This contest has tested my limits and it has introduced me to so many amazing, creative people. It was utterly exhausting, but I consider myself to have emerged victorious and with a new-found strength.

To anyone out there who may struggle with a disability, be it learning or otherwise, know that you are more than your disability. You are more than the names you may be called. Don’t let those voices keep you down from achieving your dreams because I am living proof that anything is possible. Just try your best and never stop believing in yourself. We may face challenges that many others may never understand or experience, but I assure you it makes the victories all the sweeter. You can do it. I believe in you. 

Dyscalculia and the Imaginative Mind

I’ve always hated math. It’s not that I’m “just bad at math” – I straight up don’t understand it! No matter how many times I go through calculations or study the formulas, nothing about it makes sense to me. Nothing clicks in place. But it’s not just math that I struggle with. There are other little issues I have too – I have difficulty reading analog clocks, I’m always highly anxious about being late, I have no concept of distance and measurement and I have to hold up my index and thumb on each hand to see which one forms the “L” so I know which is left and which is right. This is how it has always been with me. It’s just a part of my reality.

When I was a little girl it was chalked up to the age-old “she’s just bad at math” and “she just has to study harder”. But I did study hard. I even had tutoring sessions. Nothing worked. Then one day, when I was in 7^th grade, I went to up my math teacher’s desk to get help figuring out a problem. She looked it over and a scowl formed on her face. This was followed by her hastily correcting my work before shoving it back in my hands before loudly berating me in front of the class for being “stupid” and needing to “get my head out of the clouds.”

I went numb. My head lowered while my face burnt with humiliation. I managed to trudge back to my desk but I couldn’t bring myself to lift my head again. The damage had been done. If a teacher said I was stupid, then I assumed that is just what I was. There was no reason for me to try ever again. It didn’t matter – I was just stupid and nothing could change that. From that day forward I didn’t even bother to apply myself with math because it was clear to me at the time that I was a lost cause.

Later, well after I managed to graduate from college, I learned about dyscalculia and it changed my entire perspective. Much like how dyslexia is with letters and words, dyscalculia is a learning disability which effects a person’s ability to comprehend numbers. Every single bullet point of the symptoms matched me to the core. When faced with this revelation, I burst into tears and felt a wave of relief crash over me. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t a lost cause. My mind just worked differently.

It’s estimated that between 3-6% of the population is affected by dyscalculia and yet it is still under-diagnosed and not well understood even by educators, who are still only now just learning about this disability. The other fascinating thing I learned about it was that many dyscalculic people score high when tested on language and reading, and tend to be highly creative. So while dyscalculia may have hindered me in mathematics, it allowed me to fully embrace this other wonderful part of my brain. This thing, which I had always viewed as a weakness, had contributed to one of my greatest strengths – my imagination and love for literature. And it is those strengths that have helped me find success and happiness in my life. So if being bad at math is the price for that – I’ll take it!

The struggle to deal with feeling of inadequacies can be suffocating at time, but it’s vital to look beyond perceived shortcomings, be it in ourselves or others, and learn to focus on our talents. I’ve come to accept that I can’t be good at everything and that’s okay! All any of us can do is to try our best and love all the parts of ourselves that make us the people who we are.