The Guild Counsel: The job you come home to

In the comments to my first column about guild management, I noticed that several readers referred to guilds as "work" and to guild leading as a "job." While some guilds do subscribe to (and thrive on) that philosophy, it's a big reason some players are turned off at the idea of joining a guild.

In this week's Guild Counsel, I'd like to take a closer look at the idea of guilds as a second job. Are guilds really the job you come home to? And if so, should it be that way?
When I ran Revelry and Honor in EverQuest, it was definitely a job. I taught high school at the time and coached after school. As demanding as that was, I often felt that leading a guild was in many ways more challenging. Every time I'd log in, it seemed like there was no end to the amount of tasks I needed to handle. Loot squabbles, /ragequits, officer nominations, guild applications, and non-stop requests for help with things in game were just a few of the many things I handled. I did a lot of hand-holding. I stroked a lot of egos. I spent hours playing a virtual Judge Judy. And I ended up getting burned out when all was said and done.

What I came to realize was that the more time I spent dealing with guild issues, and the more emotionally invested I became, the more pressure I felt from the guild to spend even more time and sweat dealing with these demands. I always felt like if I I wasn't online and putting out fires, the guild would crumble. But I was living a self-fulfilling prophecy. Because I felt that way, and because I based all my decisions around that concern, the guild actually began to mirror that notion and took on the philosophy that if I wasn't on or tending to the guild's "needs," it would be the end of Revelry and Honor. To no surprise, that's exactly what happened.

When I started up the guild again a few years later, it was with a renewed determination to learn from my mistakes in EverQuest. I was also armed with lots of valuable knowledge I had absorbed from my time with other guilds — some of them in leadership positions, and some not. My new motto for the guild would be, "Focused progress, but not at the expense of a good night's sleep!" I vowed that I would not run a guild that put such harsh demands on the members that it would detract from their enjoyment or intrude on their lives outside of game. It was important to me that all members of the guild have the flexibility to enjoy the game on their terms, while at the same time still be willing to participate in an overall guild focus on progression.

However, while I worked hard to keep things pressure-free for the members, I forgot about myself, and very quickly I was scurrying around tending to guild requests, rather than just playing the game.

This time around, though, I caught myself and stepped back from the abyss. Today, it doesn't feel at all like a job, and while I still have issues to handle in-guild, it certainly doesn't cut into my playtime like it used to. I can honestly tell you that leading a guild does not have to feel like a job. So how did I do it?

You make your own fun. A guild leader I once was guilded with (/hattip Kendricke) said that everyone in a guild was responsible for his own fun. Luckily, we live in an MMO world now where that is much easier to do than it was in the "Holy Trinity or die" group-oriented content of EverQuest. Clearly delineate in your own mind which are reasonable responsibilities of a guild leader, and which aren't. Be as consistent as you can in what you choose to have a hand in, what you delegate to an officer, and what you decide not to deal with at all.

It's not a Thanksgiving dinner. We've been lucky enough to have very little guild drama the second time around in RnH. Part of that is thanks to the addition of voice chat in MMOs, but part is that we have a different approach to personality conflicts. Not everyone in the guild will get along well (although it amazes me sometimes that people who would not normally be friends out of game have actually become best friends in game). But I make it clear that we don't need to all sit down together for Thanksgiving dinner; we just need to be able to play and raid together. Unless someone's behavior is directly affecting someone else's gameplay, I take a hands-off approach.

Justify your demands on the guild. This one's important, and it's not as easy as it sounds. If you're going to require someone to do something in order to be part of the guild, make sure there's a really good reason for it. That goes for everything, including the recruiting process, attendance policies, and, yes, even guild forums, which is something that came up in the comments section last week. Let's switch gears just for a bit to look at the issue and see why it ties in with my point.

In EverQuest, I stressed the importance of signing up for our guild forums, partly because it was our "virtual clubhouse," but more importantly, that was the only way I could get crucial guild messages out to everyone quickly. Today in EverQuest II, there are many ways for me to relay important information to the guild. I can send out a guild mail, broadcast a short message through the Magic Mouth board, or even hang a super-sized player notebook on the guild wall with upcoming events and important guild news. If EverQuest II didn't have so many terrific in-game methods to communicate with the guild, I'd prod everyone to use the forums a lot more. But right now, I just don't feel it's a necessary demand to put on my guildmates.

Attrition is a part of life. All guild leaders need to make peace with the idea that, on any given night, someone from your guild can leave. It doesn't mean the end of the guild, but it is something that will happen. This is something I'll talk about more in another column.

Take nights off. Avoid the pressure to always be there to put out fires. When the guild leader takes a night or two off, it sets the tone for the rest of the guild. Unlike Dwarves, who are very dangerous over short distances, guilds need to be built for endurance. Taking a night off might mean a more relaxed pace in your guild goals, but it helps in the long run.

Use care in making sure that new members sign on to your guild's philosophy. After a while, it becomes a culture, and that makes it a lot harder for a new member with high demands to rock the boat. Remember last week's question, "Who are you and what do you want to accomplish?" This is where it becomes important.

Overall, running a guild doesn't have to feel like a second job. And actually, when a guild leader carries the mindset that gaming shouldn't be work, it can have a ripple effect on the rest of the guild. When I'm on, I want to play with people who are there because they want to be, not because they feel they have to be or because they're doing it out of habit. It can be very difficult to find the right balance too — you don't want the guild to be so low key that it borders on apathy, but you don't want to push so hard that you end up burning everyone out. Once you do find that sweet spot, the experience of being part of a guild makes gaming so much more satisfying and enjoyable than going alone.