Jon Peterson

Put me in the "loved it" category. Yes, in the final few pages there was quite a lot of "at last, we've achieved gaming rules perfection," but up until that point the authors seemed quite open-minded about the plusses and deficiencies of the company and its games throughout its history. And oh, the art!

It's a large book (both in size of each page and number of pages) so it can (a) display the art at a decent scale, and (b) show quite a lot of it, while (c) including enough text so that you show more do feel you're reading a history, and not merely viewing a coffee table book of pretty pictures.

I pretty much devoured the first half in a single (long) sitting, then polished off the rest in stolen moments over the next two days. There's no better compliment to a book than that I'd rather be reading it than anything else.

(Note: 5 stars = amazing, wonderful, 4 = very good book, 3 = decent read, 2 = disappointing, 1 = awful, just awful. I'm fairly good at picking for myself so end up with a lot of 4s). show less

This is essentially a business history of TSR, the company that produces Dungeons and Dragons, for the first 10 years of its existence, by which time both of the game's co-creators, Dave Arneson and Gary Gygax, were ousted from the company. I came to the book vaguely familiar with the origins of the game and the rancor between Arneson and Gygax, and I instinctively sided with Arneson, the underdog in the fight. But having read the book my sympathy for Arneson is tempered by the realization show more that he was a giant pain in the ass and he either had little talent or willingness to actually write the rules of a game. Gygax also does not come off well either--TSR was riddled with nepotism, mostly due to the family of the Blumes (co-owners of TSR), but also due to Gygax's own family, and Gygax certainly seems complicit in clawing back profit-sharing schemes initially offered to contributors to D&D.

This book is a vast improvement over Peterson's sprawling "Playing the World"--it is more focused and is interested in the technical arcana of the game. show less

Jon Peterson has made a name for himself as a gaming historian. His rightly lauded and fastidiously researched Playing at the World may well be the definitive treatment of the historical antecedents of modern role-playing games across the centuries.

Game Wizards: The Epic Battle for Dungeons & Dragons tackles a more focused topic: the creation of D&D and the first 12 years of Tactical Studies Rules (TSR) from its founding to the fateful evening when Gary Gygax was removed from direct control show more of the company. Peterson is particularly interested in divining credit for the game’s creation, sifting through the competing claims of Gygax and Dave Arneson, and detailing the (mis)management of TSR which led to Gygax inadvertently placing himself in danger of losing the company he co-founded.

Like Playing at the World, Game Wizards is well-researched with 30 pages of endnotes citing various trade magazines, columns in Dragon, and other sources. But what makes the book more readable than, say, Playing at the World is that Game Wizards has a compelling narrative on which to hang the various financial figures and convention numbers. No one thought Dungeons & Dragon would be an especially profitable idea (Peterson regularly reminds us that Gygax and Arneson thought it might be a “$300 idea”). So when the game takes off, what had been built on nebulous contracts and verbal agreements quickly becomes the focus of intense legal battles as various players seek their piece of the pie.

At yet those battles seem to have been exacerbated by the interpersonal conflicts that inevitably arose when a bunch of hobbyists tried to run a business. Broken promises, poor HR policies and procedures, and the lure of wealth and fame seem to have taken its toll on those who initially banded together to bring D&D to life, leading to the sad but inevitable climax of Gygax’s reign.

Game Wizards is a treat for RPG fans, especially those (like me) who came to the hobby well after the events it depicts. I highly recommend it. show less

When I think of what inspired my imagination as a kid, I keep coming back to the magnificent 80s and 90s era D&D art which graced the novels and modules I read and played in my youth. I freely admit to being swayed by a healthy dose of nostalgia, but it was heartwarming to revisit some of those paintings which meant so much to me in my younger days, and continue to do so to this day. As a history of D&D and its art, it's passable if a bit safe, steering clear of some of its earlier and show more especially later controversies.

Keith Parkinson, Clyde Caldwell, Larry Elmore, and Jeff Easley - masters from ye olden day of TSR. To me, these artist are not just emblematic of D&D's golden era, but of fantasy art in general. While these artists are mentioned, it feels as if they are given somewhat short thrift compared to the influence they had, and still have to this day. On the other hand, since they could have filled the volume by themselves, the space saved allows other artists to be explored, and they fully deserve to have their work highlighted as well.

The main criticism would be that it is clearly a "company book," which assumes that each era of D&D is one of progress towards a more perfect whole, which conveniently is that of the current edition! While there's a certain amount of truth to certain innovations which have improved the game, there are plenty of grognards such as myself who feel the modern editions have gradually lost much of that magic which once made the game special.

Despite my occasional critiques, for fantasy or RPG fans this volume is worth exploring - even if only to experience the journey once again. show less