Host better game nights, one Thursday at a time.

I have explained a lot of rules. Since 2018 I have been the person at our table who reads the rulebook in advance, sets up the board early, and then tries to get six hungry people to listen for ten minutes. I have done it badly more often than I have done it well. Here is what I have learned, mostly the hard way.

Start with the goal, not the components

The single most common mistake, and I made it for years, is to start with what is in the box. “These are the wood cubes, these are the stone cubes, this is the market board…” Nobody can remember any of it, because nobody knows yet why it matters. Start with one sentence about how you win. “We are all running bakeries, and whoever has the best reputation at the end of the week wins.” Now everything else has a hook to hang on.

After the goal, explain how you get points, then what you do on a turn, and only then the details. Goal, scoring, turn, exceptions. That order works for almost every game we own.

Teach the turn, then play the turn

For anything heavier than a party game, we play an open first round. Everyone takes their turn with their hand face up, and I talk through the options without telling anyone what to choose. It feels slow, but it saves time, because people learn by doing. After one round, the rules stop being abstract. Most questions answer themselves.

Leave the edge cases for later

Every game has rules that only matter twice per game. “If the market runs out of grain and someone has the harvest card, then…” Skip them. Say “there are a couple of special cases, I will tell you when they come up”. Then actually do it. The table will trust you more, not less.

Watch faces, not the rulebook

When eyes glaze over, stop. Ask someone to repeat back what they do on their turn. If they cannot, that is information about your teach, not about them. We also keep a strict rule that the teacher is not allowed to say “it will make sense once we start playing” more than once per evening. It has been a useful discipline.

Give the new player the best seat

Put the newcomer next to someone patient, not next to the person who wins everything. Let them go second or third, so they see a turn or two before their own. And if the game has a catch-up mechanism or a beginner variant, use it the first time, even if the veterans grumble. A first game that feels hopeless is the best way to make sure there is never a second one.

Finally: it is fine to lose your own first teaching game. It is almost expected. I have built an entire reputation on it.

Every December, my mum Brigitte asks the same question: “What can we play with everyone?” Everyone means three generations, two dogs, and at least one teenager who would rather be on their phone. Over the years we have built up a pretty reliable list, and the good news is that family games have never been better.

Our rules for a good gateway game are simple. Rules you can explain in five minutes. Something happening on every turn, even for the youngest player. A play time under forty-five minutes. And, crucially, at least one moment per game where everyone at the table laughs or groans together.

For the youngest players (five and up)

Seven Sleepy Dragons is our go-to. It is a memory game with a lovely twist, where you have to remember which dragon snores, and children are often far better at it than adults. My nephew beat four grown-ups on his first try and has never let us forget it. Teacup Tempest is a dexterity game that works across all ages because steady hands are randomly distributed and grandparents often have the best ones.

For families with older children

Gilded Beekeepers is the game I recommend most to friends who are new to the hobby. The rules fit on one card, the wooden bees are delightful, and there is just enough choice to make adults think without slowing down a ten-year-old. Paper Zeppelins is a racing game with card drafting that teaches a little planning while still feeling silly, and Riverboat Rumble is pure push-your-luck dice fun that works at six players.

For mixed groups of any size

Comet Cartographers is our secret weapon. Everyone plays at once on their own sheet, so it does not matter whether there are two players or six, and there is no waiting around. My mum, who claims not to understand “these modern games”, has won it three Christmases in a row.

Tips for making it work

Let children set up the game. It gives them ownership and keeps them at the table. Explain only what is needed for the first round. Do not play to win against a child, but do not obviously let them win either; children notice, and it takes away the fun. And stop while everyone is still enjoying it. One great game is better than three where the last one ends in tears.

Above all, keep it short and keep it social. A gateway game does not have to lead anywhere. If everyone has a good time around the table, it has already done its job.

When I joined the group in 2019, the shelf was a disaster. Boxes bulging, lids held on with rubber bands, and a mysterious bag labelled “MISC CUBES” that nobody was willing to open. Since then I have become, by popular demand and mild obsession, the person in charge of how our games are stored. Here is what has worked.

Start with the original insert

Before you buy or build anything, check whether the game’s own insert works. Modern publishers have become much better at this; the tray in Hearthwick Village is so good it doubles as the player’s supply during play. If the insert works, keep it. If it does not, do not be sentimental. A broken insert that makes every setup slower is worse than none at all.

Small bags, clearly sorted

Resealable bags are the cheapest upgrade available. We sort by what you need at setup, not by type of component. So instead of one bag with all the wooden cubes, each player gets one bag with their own coloured pieces, and the market gets its own bag. Setup for Ashen Crown went from twenty-five minutes to about twelve once we did this.

Small craft boxes with lids are worth it for games with lots of tiny tokens. Label them. A small sticker that says “moss” or “flame cubes” saves a surprising amount of time.

Store boxes flat if you can

This is controversial. Storing boxes vertically, like books, looks lovely and saves space. But pieces slide around, cards bend, and boards can warp. We store heavy games flat and keep only small, sturdy boxes upright. If you do store vertically, make sure everything inside is bagged and the box is full; a bit of foam or a folded tea towel can stop things rattling.

Protect the cards you shuffle most

We sleeve cards for games that get shuffled a lot, like Signal Fires and Clockwork Caravan. For the rest we do not bother. Sleeves make cards slippery and boxes harder to close, so be selective.

Keep a spare-parts box

Finally, every shelf needs one box for spare pieces: extra dice, leftover meeples, a few pencils, a pad of paper for scores. Ours is an old biscuit tin. It has rescued more game nights than we can count, especially the ones where Malte borrowed a component and “definitely brought it back”.

Every group has house rules, and most of them are born the same way: someone is losing, someone else feels bad, and suddenly there is a new rule about trading. I have been on both sides of this. I have also been accused of inventing rules mid-game to win at social deduction, which was mostly untrue.

House rules can make a good game better and fix a flawed one. They can also cause more arguments than any game ever will. Here is the etiquette our group has settled on after a few heated Thursdays.

Play it as written first

Give the designer the benefit of the doubt. Play a game by the rulebook at least twice before deciding something is broken. Many rules that feel odd on the first play turn out to be holding up something important. The strange hint restriction in Signal Fires is a good example: it felt fussy the first time and turned out to be the whole point.

Agree before the game, never during

This is our golden rule. A house rule must be proposed and agreed before the first turn. If someone suggests a change mid-game, the answer is always “great idea, write it down for next time”. That way nobody can change the rules to help themselves when they are behind, and nobody feels cheated when they are ahead.

Write them down

We keep a small card inside every box that has a house rule, with the date and a one-line explanation. For example, the contract fix in Lanternfall Harbor and the goal draft in Moss & Mortar. It sounds over the top, but it stops the classic argument where three people remember three different versions of the same rule.

Tell guests up front

If you are playing with a new person, especially someone who knows the game already, tell them about your house rules before you start. Nothing feels worse than learning, halfway through, that the game you thought you knew has been quietly rebuilt by your hosts.

Good reasons and bad reasons

Good reasons for a house rule: making a game work better at a player count it struggles with, fixing a clearly unbalanced card, making a heavy game friendlier for a first-timer, or helping a colour-blind friend. Bad reasons: you lost last time, you do not like a particular player’s strategy, or it is late and you want to go home. For the last one, just say you want to go home. That is allowed.

House rules, used kindly, are a way of making a game truly yours. Used badly, they are just a polite way of arguing. Choose wisely, and write it on the card.