The world is wrong, but Glitch makes it a little bit better. (It's also one of the best rpgs I've ever played!)

Glitch is easily my favourite of Jenna Moran's RPGs so far, and I was already quite fond of Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine. The central conceit -- you have developed a violent metaphysical allergy to an aspect of reality, and reality contrives to pull you into contact with that aspect with steadily increasing force and improbability -- is very easy to build characters around or retrofit onto existing characters. It makes a robust metaphor for chronic illness and disability, all the more so if you choose something mundane like Sleep or Slipperiness to bedevil your character, but with the promise of amazing void powers and an inability to stay dead in exchange for the indignity and inconvenience of your Bane interfering with your life.

Which makes it sound kind of gloomy, but that's usually not the case; if you want to focus on your characters' pain and tragedy you definitely have the option to do so, but from the example of play in the rulebook onward, every Glitch game I've ever witnessed or played in had a darkly comedic tone revolving around the protagonists' hilariously ill-fitting solutions to problems both ordinary and supernatural. The first time I used the spotlight mechanic, an incredibly handy system in which you can request a few times per chapter that a detail be elaborated upon, ask for a push in the right direction, hang additional narrative weight upon an action or a few other things in that vein, I spent it on giving an origami hat to a passerby's dog for no particularly good reason except to draw attention away from the vaguely suspicious behaviour of one of the other PCs. I feel this is illustrative.

Dr. Moran's newest work, Glitch, draws on the formula of diceless, philosophy-heavy design found in Nobilis and Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine to produce a system perfectly designed to capture the experience of playing, just, an absolute mess of a person with deep-rooted social and psychological problems and also a supernatural mandate to kill the world. The player characters of Glitch are people acausally connected with the land before time and the void before the world, imbued with its essence and violently opposed by their very nature to the fabric of Creation around them, and boy do they suck at being all of those things. It's an incredibly resonant experience as a marginalized person - someone surviving problems of gender and disability especially - under late capitalism.

The system itself is an excellent work of setting-driven design; it adapts many of the mechanics that worked best in Nobilis and draws on the more general system of CMWGE, but its best points are where it goes out of its way to highlight the experience of living as one of the Glitched with things like character design that disincentivizes having the ability to do any kind of professional work, or the fact that characters can recover, in part, from the damage they inflict on themselves in order to succeed by explicitly choosing to fail at actions and disappoint the people around them. Mechanics like the cost and spotlight systems force the player to empathize with the pain of the Excrucians, while at the same time, the lore and setting writing do the legwork of laying out exactly why they are the way that they are and paint an astonishingly beautiful picture of their beings.

Glitch's biggest weakness is frankly that, although part of its conceit is that the player characters are retired Excrucians - that they are no longer in a grand war against the world, and that the intended topic of the game is how they learn to live with themselves in their abstinence - it's entirely too tempting to try to hack it to do otherwise. (I eagerly await the publication of Nobilis 4th edition and potentially other books in the same setting which will offer more character options.)

In his video essay "The Future of Writing About Games", Jacob Geller discusses the kinds of things people write about video games, and argues that when evaluating if a game was 'worth it' to buy, you shouldn't just look at how many hours you spent playing it. He proposes an alternative metric:

"What is the hour count that a game lives in your memory? How often do you think of it, reference it, dream about it?"

I haven't yet been able to put together a group to actually play Glitch yet, but I think of it often. A major element of all of Jenna's games is taking the 'ordinary' elements of life and highlighting their importance - often by elevating them to mythic significance: in Nobilis you are its god and protector, in Glitch it is your curse, and the quest system introduced in Chuubo's and used again in Glitch, the ordinary is often given equal weight to the fantastic. It's not surprising to me then, that her works come to mind so regularly. Rarely a day goes by when I don't encounter something and wonder how it would fit into a a Glitch character - as a bane, technique or miraculously empowered item. Something will happen to me, or I'll hear a story and I'll think - what kind of quest would this fit into?

In Jacob's video, he argues that reading powerful writing about a game will unlock a deeper understanding and appreciation of it - an RPG rulebook happens to exist in a space where it can be both the instructions on how to play, and a compelling explanation of itself and what it means, all at the same time. Dr. Moran is undoubtedly a master at merging these two goals into one text, and while I'm sure there are some people that might prefer something drier, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

It's going to be one of my favorite games, and one I think about for a long time, even if I never do get a group together. There are parts of the book that I go back to and re-read because the writing is just that funny, moving or uplifting. It's not something that you ususally look for in a RPG rulebook, but its one of my favorite things about it.

One of the most beautiful games I've ever read. The writing really resonates, the art is beautiful and the system is a ton of fun. One to pick up if you like the sound of a game that encourages both soulful explorations of the pain that comes from living in an intrinsically hostile world, and the inevitable shenanigans that ensue when a group of ancient void gods tries to assemble ikea furniture.

I've only played a single game of Glitch, and I did not play it very well. Here is what the experience of playing Glitch poorly felt like: uncertainty quickly gave way to delight. The raw indulgence of playing a (retired) world-destroying nether god was liberating and silly. Now, there are games out there where enjoyment derives from mastery, and maybe this is one of them. It was definitely made with deep thinkers in mind, and if you brave the furthest waters, I'm sure you'll find all sorts of treasures. I'm writing this review to let you know that splashing around in the shallows is still an absolute blast.

Glitch had me hooked from the moment I heard the premise. In brief, you play hyperpowerful void-gods of destruction who can blow up the moon, but can't kick their insomnia; avatars of the void who can concoct grand strategies to reshape the face of the world, but struggle to pry themselves away from the laptop and take a damn shower. It's an absolutely astounding mixture of "empowerment fantasy" and "relatable content for people with depression, chronic illness, trauma or other things like that."

In spite of the heavy subject matter, and often because of it, Glitch is capable of supporting incredible emotional range. Do you want low-key tragicomic slice-of-life shenanigans in a gonzo urban fantasy setting? Easily done. Want a brooding and cathartic meditation on the nature of suffering and the unfairness of the world? You got it. Do you just wonder how ordinary tabletop hijinx and having fun with your friends escalate when the player characters are capable of acting at a cosmic scale? The answer is "like you would not believe."

If you're new to this author's games, or you've heard things but don't know quite where to start, I'd encourage you to check this out and read the other reviews. With pages of rules and an established setting, Glitch can be intimidating at first blush, but like most games, at the end of the day you're trying to tell a story. The difference is mostly in how you go about that. You earn XP for telling the story you want, using Quests (little cue cards full of scene prompts) and Arcs (a set of five quests that form a narrative structure) to guide your efforts. When you finish them, you pick up rewards, ranging from simple mechanical enhancements to the ability to rewrite your character sheet in full. Between Arcs and Ending Books, you have a number of ways to ensure that your story ends when and how you want it to. The GM is there to play the world and declare the results of your actions, which can range from simple kibitzing and "recovering some Cost for letting somebody down because you were holed up in your sanctuary hiding from the world" to "concocting a grand plan to use your infant daughter or your Instagram account to conquer a whole country" or "destroying the color red."

(But don't destroy the color red! You may be world-killing void gods, but you're supposed to be teetotal world-killing void gods in search of better coping mechanisms!)

If you've enjoyed Dr Jenna Moran's other titles, on the other hand, then Glitch is a must-have. I've played two games so far, both in playtest, and like the author's other titles, Nobilis and Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, playing this game with my friends led to some of the best memories I've ever made at the table.

Giltch is the latest installment of Jenna Moran's Nobilis IP, presented using a new ruleset. Glitch contains all of the virtues of her previous work - that strange energy that pervades the worlds she describes, the example of play that aptly communicates the intended experience, the diceless mechanic that provides meaningful restraints on activity even while it enables fantastical activities.

It is also sharply improved by being more accessible than many of her previous works. I've enjoyed Jenna's work since Nobilis 2e, but I've never been impressed by the apologetics by people who insisted that anyone who had difficulty grasping her designs was simply reading it wrong. Her previous work could be abstruse. This is not. She clearly communicates the shape of things. Even when an underlying setting element is abstruse, her writing makes the nature of that abstruseness clear to the reader, so that they do not worry that they are simply failing to grasp some concept.

Now, I'm giving this a 5 star review, but that's because it's very good at what it is trying to do. Glitch is not for everyone - it's a very specific game, for a very specific setting, and many people will simply not be interested in what it's selling. If you're interested, I strongly recommend you read the full-size preview - if you like what you see there, you'll probably eat up Glitch like popcorn. If it makes you furrow your brow, Glitch is probably not going to do much for you.

Glitch builds on the best aspects present in two of Dr. Moran's previous ventures, Nobilis 2nd edition and Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, and creates something streamlined, stylish, and downright sensational.

All in all, Glitch is a masterful piece in the hall of diceless roleplaying games. placing its players in the unique role of retired, formerly-human supervillains who often fail to re-integrate into the simplicity of how they remember things being. Called "Strategists," player characters take the form of human-like creatures that are repelled by (and once fought against) reality itself, each imbued with a "bane" that represents the way our world will kill them...

... over, and over, and over again. For these characters, death is not only an inevitability, it's often a footnote during an already-stressful week full of grocery shopping, job interviews, and discovering yet another rift between dimensions in their own homes. The archetypical Glitch PC is simultaneously fearsome, flashy, and downright terrible at existing.

As a diceless narrative TTRPG, Glitch makes the most of its resource-management, cost-focused mechanical system in order to bring the experience of its protagonists, the long-suffering Excrucian Strategists, to the forefront. The checklist-style quest system returns from CMWGE, now bolstered with the new Spotlight mechanic to bring heated moments to the game's forefront, providing players with a variety of scenes to hit during play to accumulate experience points via actually having experiences. Throw in the adapted Fugue chip mechanic that lets you toss XP at your friends for leaving you dumbstruck out of speechless awe, and there's rarely ever a dull moment at the table.

Dr. Moran's vivid descriptions of the Strategists' night-bathed world of Ninuan and the trials they face in trying to adapt to life on Earth is the book's emotional core that provides ample inspiration for the aspiring player, and Glitch is filled to the brim with jaunty microfiction, sordid tales of suffering, and few limits to constrain who or what your Strategist can be.

Absolutely delightful. It's surreal existential absurd dark comedy mixed with heavy, deep themes and the occasional backslide into destroying the world. What's not to love?

I've cried plenty of times in my years and years of roleplaying. I've never cried reading the rules before. Glitch is different.

I have never seen a game speak to the soul as directly as Glitch does. Moran has a gift for casting a wide net that somehow feels like a spear directly through your heart and speaking directly to your experience. Each person I've shared this piece of art with has told me in one way or another that they felt like it was written directly for them, and yet we all come from such radically different life experiences.

At it's core, Glitch is a game about radicalization. It's a game about being Othered. It's a game about escaping from a cult. It's a game about being trans. It's a game about being disabled. It's a game about life. Glitch is a game for the introspective. Glitch is a game for the broken. Glitch is a game for those who are healing, or those who want to heal. It's a game about laying awake in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling through tear-filled eyes. It's a game about riffing on bad movies with your friends. It is all of these and none of these and it's the game you've always, always wanted.

Let Glitch into your heart. Read it as a novel. Read it as a tabletop. Scream it's praise from the rooftops, gift it to your friends. Love it like I do. I beg you.

Glitch is the perfect game for 2020 and everything that will come after. It is a game about living in a world that is broken and wrong and simply wants you dead, and yet still finding ways to be okay (or even happy). It is also a game where you get to pop back up after being incinerated by a fireball and say "Aha! You simply incinerated a lifelike doll of me!"

Playing a strategist is a pleasure. These world-killing void-gods are suprisingly relatable and accessible, and to be honest there's room in the same game for someone dying of Empathy and Dying of Sandwiches.

Jenna Moran's diceless system makes it so you have nigh-unlimited power, but in a balanced and fun way. You won't be arguing semantics, but rather trying to brainstorm what, exactly, destroying the sun would do.

In addition, the quest system makes progressing something that creates a story in and of itself. You can get XP for staring into the distance or playing with a dog, if that's the kind of story you want to tell.

I beg anyone reading this to pick up Glitch. the writing alone got me through many weeks of legally mandated quarantine, and running it has never been anything but a pleasure.

Glitch is...

Glitch is an experience.

Glitch is a hard and harrowing read, at times; it is sometimes wrily funny; it is always suffused with this sense of ancient, baroque grandeur. It is pretty rare that a tabletop game be fun to read, on its own merits, as literature, rather than as a template perscribing play. Other tabletop games that are fun like that tend to have a siloed off setting section that is literature, and then a tasteless mechanics section. Not so here! The mechanics and the narrative are interwoven, the same dry humor that notes the horrifying plight of the Strategist also explains that your maximum Cost level is the same as the number of stitches on a regulation baseball.

The ending to this tabletop game made me cry.

If that is the sort of experience you want in your tabletops, please buy Glitch. If it isn't... well, I'd encourage you to keep an open mind and buy Glitch as well!

An excellent and groundbreaking game that builds on the narrative mechanics of Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine very effectively to create a specific, more serious, philosopically interesting feel. Definitely a unique design, and leads to really fun and interesting play that's less about whether or not you can do something and more about how willing you are to use your power and face the consequences. Focusing on the player's attention and interest keeps the story engaging for everyone, and the combination of quests and a varied arsenal of miraculous powers creates lots of room for player creativity and dynamic situations. A solid and very worthwhile game.

Jenna Moran has been in the space of game design working orthogonally to what a lot of creators were doing for a long time. I feel like we're finally at a point now that she's not entirely in a field of her own; however, her work still stands up as an extremely good example and a personal favourite strand of mine.

Glitch is a companion game to Nobilis, which takes some of the refined narrative mechanics from Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-granting Engine, and gives a preview of how some things might work in a future 4th edition of Nobilis. You play as Strategists, people or other beings who glitched out of the world and found a way to take control of the wrongness that was killing them.

You're a Prince of the void: of Ninuan, the place-beyond-place, the land at war with Creation and everything in it. And, supposedly, you always were - it's up to you how much you buy into that. You exist in an uneasy, tenuous balance between the world and the void; always in danger of slipping further out of life, but with access to amazing powers and a deep reserve of strength that you can draw on for conflicts or personal projects - if you don't mind it killing you slowly.

Imported from CMWGE are Quests and Arcs, structures that allow you to run a story-driven game from the perspective of a player. It's an idea that will be familiar to players of Burning Wheel or more modern narrative-based games, giving the players goals to focus on achieving during gameplay in order to advance their own story.

Updated from Nobilis are the stats: Strategists have five, with base ranks from 0 to 7 and an effect ladder that can be pushed as high as 12, or further for an edge in a conflict. These effects range from your Ability to clean your house, to summoning creatures of the Not and banishing pieces of existence; and you'll have to make some hard decisions about how to spend your precious character points at creation.

Strategists don't have access to Will or Miracle Points, pools of energy from previous games which refilled at narratively appropriate moments. Their natural abilities are the only thing carrying them through day to day. Instead, pushing your abilities beyond your normal limits is represented by taking points of the appropriate Cost. Cost can be reduced in a few specific ways, notably resting in an environment that's specifically less hostile to you; but short of that, it accumulates, building until you can't handle any more and either you or your GM decide you have to take a wound to balance it out.

You might think that's terrible. You'd be right. It is. Being a Strategist is a hard life. Many exist like candles lit at both ends. But the stories you can tell in that lifespan are amazing.

Glitch is a game for telling stories about having weird and impossible experiences. Glitch is a game in which cleaning your house or preparing for a dinner party can be an equivalent challenge to fighting a world-ending threat. Glitch is a game in which the world sucks and is out to get you and your friends in particular, and if you try to tell anyone they probably won't believe you, and if they do they might start seeing spirits everywhere. (The spirits were always there, but not seeing them allows us mortals to go about our daily lives as though they weren't.)

Glitch is a game in which your past informs your present, and you can forge a new path at any time. Glitch is a game about being capable of anything, but in which trying to do everything will burn you out fast.

What will you spend your effort on? What's important to you? Everyday things? Connecting to others? Travelling to mysterious places and experiencing incredible, impossible events?

You can always push harder, up until you can't push at all - but should you? Is it worth it?

It is. (Worth it.)

(The game.)

(Your money.)

Probably.