It looks like the murder mystery party I’d planned for Dec 7, 2024, is not going to happen.
That’s the TL;DR version. The rest of this post goes over the details, if you’re interested.
I’m not sad
Let’s get this out of the way: I’m not actually disappointed by this. A murder-mystery party is fun, and I enjoy them. However, I was not enthusiastically hoping and anticipating this party the way I did for the Murder Mystery Masquerade in 2019.
Why not? Because this party was not really my idea.
My original plan was to follow the pattern I established back in 1979: To hold a gaming/costume/mystery/LARP party every decade. After the party in 2019, I didn’t plan to host another until 2029.
A couple of friends of mine, who’d enjoyed themselves in 2019, were the ones who suggested that I not wait a full ten years until the next one.
I approached the prospect less with the thought “I gotta make this work!” than with the attitude “Sure, why not?”
To be clear, if the circumstances were different, I would have gladly thrown myself into the organizational work required for this party. I love doing this kind of stuff: organizing the characters, preparing the clue envelopes, dressing up in costume, etc. This was to be a party, not an obligation.
I would have also welcomed the chance to be with a large group of people, all whom I trust to test for COVID-19 before the event. As my friends know, due to medical issues I’ve basically continued the pandemic isolation since March 2020. I’ve not lived like a hermit (I still have to do things like grocery shopping), but activities like going to a movie or a restaurant are impractical for me.
However, as I’ve grown older, I’ve become aware that I’ve developed a new negative trait: I tend to try to recreate the “glory days” of my youth. In 2019, I wrote, “It was the best party I ever hosted. I don’t think I’ll host a better one for the rest of my life.”
In planning an “off-cycle” big gaming/LARP event in 2024 instead of 2029, was I trying to recreate a moment that I knew (then and now) was not going to happen for me again?
Understanding mystery parties
Before I get into the exact reasons why I’ve cancelled this event, let’s take a look at how these murder mysteries work.
When you purchase this kind of game, there are always “key roles”: People who absolutely must be present for the mystery to work. If you don’t have those people, it doesn’t happen.
I’ve hosted many murder-mystery parties. There was a period in my life when I and a friend (call her N) would host them regularly. Back then, the problem was getting eight people together at the same time. N could tell you stories about frantically phoning everyone we knew because one of the eight had cancelled and we needed to fill a slot.
Twenty-five years ago, the mystery-party games that were available had gendered roles: four men, four women. Folks were less comfortable playing a role of a different gender (though that happened once for a mystery party I hosted in the Chicago area).
These days the mystery parties are far more likely to have non-gender-based roles. But…
The problems with this party
Attendance
Let’s begin with attendance: For the 2019 party, over thirty people showed up. After I sent out invitations via email and Facebook, 16 people expressed interest for the 2024 party.
I expected this.
As a consequence of my medical isolation, my general network of friends shrunk in size. Without face-to-face contact, old friendships fade away. I’m not likely to make new friends to replace them.
At first, this may not seem like it should make a difference: I need 8 people, and I’ve got 16. What’s the problem?
I purchase the mystery-party scripts from a particular company. Most (if not all) of the mysteries are written by Bon Blossman.
She’s very much into female empowerment. When she constructs a mystery, she’s likely to construct one in which all the roles are meant to be played by women; she did this in her witchcraft mystery, otherwise I would have thrown that one long ago!
As I looked over the mysteries that were available, I saw that the majority of the parties that fell along the lines of a costume/dinner party that could accommodate 16 people (I discarded those parties with themes I thought didn’t work for us, like a disco or a saints-and-sinners) had four female roles and four non-gendered roles.
I found only one for which all the roles were non-gendered. But the roles were almost identical the ones in my 2019 party. The adventure might be a repeat. Still, I might have gone for that one, if it wasn’t for the other factors.
Remember when I asked “Which category are you?” I was specifically trying to identify eight people could fill the key roles of the party.
If four women could fill key roles, I’d have a choice about which costume/dinner-party mystery script I could use. If eight people of any combination of gender identity could fill a key role, I could host that last one party.
You guessed it: Only five people placed themselves in “Category 1” = would absolutely commit to coming. No, there weren’t four women in the group.
Substitutions
It may not be clear: For a costume-style mystery party, it’s hard for folks to fill in roles at the last minute.
Assume I tell you that your role in the upcoming mystery party is that of a plumber. I send you background on your character and suggest you contact the guests who are playing the butcher and the baker, because the script suggests that. Then assume that, four hours before the party, I tell you that I need you play a wealthy stockbroker. You may not have the costuming resources to adjust.
I’m not speaking hypothetically. This happened at my 2019 party. One of the key roles was filled by someone who I knew was reliable… who had a health issue at the last minute and simply could not attend.
Fortunately, for that particular masquerade-party mystery, the costumes were basically colored masks. I asked “Robyn Teal” if they could play the role of “Resse Cerulean”. They already had an appropriately-colored mask and costume, and they were good at improvising. It worked.
For the scripts I looked at, these sorts of easy substitutions were not possible. With only five people able to commit, the possibility of last-minute substitutions was high. If I used a script with gendered roles, substitutions might be difficult on the players.
If you were at the 2019 party, you know that I went through all sorts of preparations so that people could become comfortable with their characters. The scripts provided “pre-party” connections (e.g., the plumber, baker, and butcher were all part of a secret society to overthrow the mayor). The players could talk with one another via email or FB or whatever. This allowed those of my friends who didn’t know each other to become acquainted in the days before the party.
For a party with so many uncommitted players and a high likelihood of substitutions, the party might become less about “Who killed John Smith?” and more about “Who am I again? Whom am I supposed to talk to?”
Again, I anticipated this sort of difficulty because it happened before. In 2009, I threw a party with a script I’d written. (This party finally convinced me that I was no good at writing party scripts.) 16 people said they would come, only 12 people showed up. That particular party didn’t require key roles, though there were some plotlines that fizzled, with player A looking for a non-existent character B.
Venue
I learned something with planning this party: It can be easier to find a place to host a large party than it is for a small one.
If only ten people were going to come, I would have asked one or two of my friends with homes if I could host the party at their place.
If only eight people were going to come, I would have hosted the party in my apartment.
It turns out that finding a place for 11-15 people is more complicated. Remember, I couldn’t just rent a back room at a restaurant, because of my health requirements.
I found a matchmaking site for event venues; you post your needs, businesses respond if they’re able to accommodate you. None of the three places who responded were suitable. One said that a mystery party would be too “boisterous” for them; another sent me an ad for a massive yacht party (with a string quartet!) suitable for a hundred people; a third was located in Manhattan.
I was prepared to go back to the place I rented in 2019. It was large for 16 people, if even that many showed up, but I used the same space in 2009 with even fewer people…
And then it hit me
What had been a joy in 2019 was turning into a struggle in 2024.
I have to face the facts: A murder mystery party of this sort is just not coming together.
The joy of that big party five years ago was transforming into a web of complications now.
If you were at the 2019 party, you’ll remember that I began with a speech: That party was meant as a “thank you” for all those who’d stood by me during my medical problems of the past year.
This time, it felt like I was giving a party to honor myself.
You can’t repeat the past.
What’s next?
One of my friends suggested just getting together for a pot-luck dinner. Maybe. It still feels like vanity party.
It’s also reasonable to ask: If I’m having these kinds of problems now, what do I expect to happen when I try for the party I originally planned for 2029?
My response for now: That’s a 2029 problem. Let’s deal with 2024 in 2024, and 2029 in 2029.