24 Years a Dungeon Master

Some plain-and-simple advice, one DM to another.

24 Years a Dungeon Master
Deadwood Dick Library, 1899 (Public Domain)

A friend recently asked me how to strike the right balance as a Dungeon Master—talking enough to keep momentum, but not so much that players feel railroaded or stuck in awkward silences. Here’s the advice I shared from my 24 years of DM experience.

Start by opening the feedback loop to everyone and giving it structure. I favor the Stars & Wishes format because it prompts positive highlights (the stars) and forward-looking tweaks (the wishes). Encourage players to share those at the end of each session, then post your own stars and wishes in chat to kick off discussion.

Behind the screen, think actor first, author second. You might be head-over-heels in love with your setting, but lore drops delivered before players ask can feel like sinks for the plot pace. Sprinkle in knowledge checks to ensure that information emerges when someone actively seeks it.

Follow improv’s golden rule: “Yes—and here’s what happens next” beats a hard “no” almost every time.

I picture a session unfolding in three beats—role-play, movement, action. Hitting all three keeps energy high. A role-play moment can spotlight one character if it’s swift and vivid; action that involves only one person should be even swifter.

One fix for games that feel a little off-tempo is micro-adventures: single-session (maybe two-session) side quests that build out the world, spark role-play, and deliver clear action. Each small mission nudges the larger story forward and raises the stakes.

Imagine a flood threatening a settlement where an elemental is the cause—the PCs must deal with the elemental source, secure a solution... and then deal with whatever crisis was caused by the flood. It’s not railroading to present non-optional problems; railroading only happens when you dictate the solutions.

Around the table I often see three types of play styles that affect things, too. First are the high-energy jokesters who light up when given boundaries and clever puzzles to poke. Second are the quieter storytellers who excel once they have a clear emotional hook or personal goal. Third are the tactical minds who relish leading the group through crunchy challenges but appreciate a nudge toward deeper character moments. Obviously, there can be overlap.

Shape scenes/micro adventures to make sure each style gets at least one spotlight—humor for the first crowd, open-ended feelings for the second, crisp decision points for the third—and watch as your group buys into the fun.

Pacing pitfalls to watch for? In one game, my group spent a chunk of a session animating a mundane object and coaxing a shy creature into doing something essential for the plot. Charming, but slow. If an outcome is mandatory for the plot, sometimes it’s best to let it happen quickly rather than waiting for players to guess the perfect solution.

Another tip: keep NPCs lean and memorable: a short list, one sentence each—“Old Smith Ballywag, the one-legged grouchy blacksmith you’ve known all your lives.” Flesh out more only if the moment demands or a player asks. Build pauses into NPC conversations, so the party can jump in and ask those questions if they want (or, if you've got a less experienced group, offer them some prompts to gather information as an optional task).

Virtual tables need extra polish. Trim anything that drags: tool-swapping can pull players out of character. Simple immersion tricks—display names in Zoom windows set to character names, pre-tested ambient music—go further than elaborate tech that glitches.

Anyway, thinking this through fired me up about DM craft. I hope these ideas help you keep the story barreling down the road—no meandering detours, and helps everyone have a good time. And, if you liked this, read my Stars & Wishes post, here!

Subscribe for my regular newsletter. No spam, just the big updates.