I almost didn’t want to put this up (H/T Constant Reader Belcatar). I mean, what if somebody from his customer base sees this? And my carefully-concealed smirk?
You can hire [Devon] Chulick, for example, to lead an individual beginner campaign, which will set you back $300 and last up to four hours; for $500, he’ll come to your office and run a D&D team-building activity. He rents a full studio set up to stream the games he runs weekly on the gaming platform Twitch, where he has 150 subscribers who each pay $4.99 a month. He also has an email list of 4,200 people and four sponsors who provide detailed custom game pieces, beer or maps in exchange for on-air endorsements. For a negotiated fee, he’ll draw up custom battle maps, consult on purchases of various game accessories, and host bachelor parties, family gatherings, or kids’ birthdays. At present, he’s booked out several months and has a waitlist.
I mean, it’s a great finagle. One that takes full advantage of the fact that the target demographic just knows that D&D is trendy right now, and not that you can throw a rock into the average convention and hit five people who will eagerly run a campaign for you for free. Which said demographic will all probably figure out in about nine months anyway, so what the hell. Ride that pony until it collapses, Chulick. God knows you need to do something to make rent money in San Francisco.
I think what’s more of interest is singular campaigns ascending as a Brand. Invite strangers in the internet to be mildly entertained by your antics, and you may at least be able to pay for the snacks.
Back in the old days, the fun of D&D was sitting around until the wee hours, eating snacks and spinning tales with friends. Professional DMing feels a little like prostitution to me.
You perceive the essence of professional entertainment as a whole…