tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19969412432384002512024-02-08T12:18:19.219-08:00Andrew KirschbaumRuminations on writing, publishing, gaming, games, society, my life and anything shiny that attracts my attention.Mark LIttlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09370904530338387259noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-60484882398981628872012-12-20T13:28:00.000-08:002012-12-20T13:28:05.877-08:00Too Busy Writing To Write?Greetings Dear and Faithful Reader,<br />
<br />
Well, it's been a while. Months have come and gone since my last post. I'm sure many of you even noticed. I have been busy during my absence from these pages, perhaps not as busy as I should be, but I didn't get into the Author business to be responsible and work hard. Which was a mistake as it turns out, but I digress.<br />
<br />
As many of you are aware, last year I announced that I would be
releasing the second Monday novel, titled Monday and the Apocalypse
Engine, this December. I have good news and bad news on that front.
The bad news first, I will not be releasing Monday and the Apocalypse
Engine this December. It turns out writing a second novel had all sorts
of new and different challenges than a first novel did.<br />
<br />
Go figure.<br />
<br />
The
good news is I'm on track for a March 2013 release for Monday and the
Counterfeit Corpse. That's right, the Apocalypse has been officially
delayed. You read it here first, folks. But wait, I have still more
good news. Just to reward all of you for your patience, I
present a pre-release of Chapter One of the forthcoming Monday and the
Counterfeit Corpse.<br />
<br />
This is a pre-release, so I
don't promise there won't be some changes between this version and the
final published one. I also don't promise there won't be some
formatting issues, punctuation, grammar, and spelling errors. But that
just makes this even more special, right?<br />
All right then, with
only slightly more preamble, I proudly present Chapter One of the
forthcoming novel, Monday and the Counterfeit Corpse (Book Two in the
Fifth World Series).<br />
<br />
Enjoy.<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">M</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">y
name's Zachariah Monday, I'm a detective for hire, personal
investigator, occasional body guard, professional pain-in-the-ass,
busybody, snoop, and accidental do-gooder. Actually I'm a
world-class do-gooder. It's just that I don't get paid for it, and
not getting paid is something I rarely do on purpose. Fortunately, I
do mostly get paid for all the rest, so I'm getting by just fine,
thanks for asking.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Detective
work comes in two basic flavors, boring and deadly. Fortunately for
me, it changes back and forth pretty frequently so I usually don't
get too bored. Or dead. The real payoff doesn't have much to do
with money though. Most cases paid, but a few precious ones were
actually fun. I was about to wrap up one of the best cases I have
ever had the pleasure of solving. In fact, I was actually going so
far as to kill time before I ended this one.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Okay,
making the bad guys a little nervous and hopefully throwing them off
their game was the official reason I was stalling. That and the fact
that I was counting on one more player in my little production, but
if I'm to be completely honest, it was only a little bit of the
former and a whole lot of the latter. I had my whole game plan worked
out, all my lines carefully rehearsed, and every possible contingency
covered. My partner says I love showing off. I tell him he's crazy,
but man is he going to be able to say 'I told you so' after this one.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I
leaned against the mantlepiece at the head of the room. I had chosen
my position and facial expression carefully. The key was to look
relaxed and calm, but ready for anything. It wasn't an easy thing to
do, but I think I pulled it off. I looked around the room at the
collection of witnesses, suspects, victims, and innocent bystanders.
I smiled, carefully showing just the right amount of teeth.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">In the
center of the room in an impressive high-backed chair sat Mrs.
Belinda Stanhope-Crane, also known as the Widow Crane, also known as
my client. Here's a hint for anyone who wants to go into the
detective-for-hire business: always have a rich client if you can
possibly swing it; it just makes everything easier. Mrs.
Stanhope-Crane was richer than King Midas wishes he had been and she
was a great client. She had hired me to find out who killed her
husband Malcolm Howard – her latest husband that is. Mrs.
Stanhope-Crane had outlived a half-dozen husbands in her time. The
deceased spouse in question was half his wife's age, at the time of
death two weeks ago.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I had
read about the murder in the papers before she came to me with the
case. It was front-page stuff, “Scandalous marriage ends in bloody
murder.” All sorts of tawdry allegations were flying. Popular
gossip had it that hubby Howard had been killed by criminals plotting
to steal all of his wife's money. And of course, everyone suspected
that Howard had been in on it. What with his history as a convicted
felon. It had all the makings of a first-rate movie of the week and
I was smack dab in the middle of it all. It doesn't get much better
than this in the detective-for-hire business. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I asked
Belinda (she insisted that I call her Belinda) if she wanted me to
prove her husband innocent or if she wanted me to solve the crime.
Her answer had surprised me. She said neither; she only wanted
justice to be done. I may just have fallen a tiny bit in love with
Belinda right then and there. Plus she offered to pay me nearly
double my usual rate.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Two
people sat on the couch to her left, Nate Crane the oldest son from
her first marriage and heir to the bulk of the Stanhope-Crane fortune
– now that Howard was dead, anyway. To Nate's left was Margaret
Stanhope-O'Shaughnessy, my client's sister. For a while Maggie
O'Shaughnessy had been my primary suspect, but I knew better now. I
hadn't revealed this publicly yet; it was better if the real bad guy
didn't suspect what I didn't suspect until it was too late. I
reached into my back pocket and pulled out my trusty notebook. It's
times like this that I'm really glad I take copious notes. Also, it
is easier to ignore people nonchalantly when you have an excuse not
to look at them. I checked my notes and ignored up a storm.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Sitting
across from those three and staring daggers at everyone was Brigid
Howard, a woman who had emerged after the murder and alternately
claimed to be Malcolm Howard's sister, secret wife, and criminal
partner at various points in my investigation. She had also tried to
seduce me, or possibly kill me. I'm still not sure which. I had her
pegged now. She was just a gold-digger with a talent for lies. Her
real name was Mildred Drood. She wasn't directly related to the case
at all, but she sure had confused me for a while.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Standing
against the back wall was the entire serving staff, the chauffeur,
three maids, a stable master, a cook, and a butler. Everyone in the
room was human except for the butler. He was a goblinblood, which is
to say that he was of mixed human and goblin ancestry. Accordingly,
he was nearly an inch shorter than the next shortest person in the
room, who was a five foot, two inch maid named Ginny. I didn't
remember Ginny's last name, but I can't be expected to remember
everything, can I? I flipped several pages back in my notes.
Ginny's last name was Prescott. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> The
goblinblood butler made up in width what he lacked in height; he
easily weighed three hundred pounds and it looked to be entirely
muscle. His traditional butler's uniform did little to hide his
powerful physique. Not for the first time I thought about being on
the business end of those sledgehammer fists and, like every other
time, I decided that I didn't want to have that particular
experience. He smiled at me, revealing huge slabs of teeth like
pearly white tombstones.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Full-blooded
g</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">oblins are like snowflakes –
or they would be if snowflakes could bench-press motorcycles before a
light lunch and shrug off injuries that would kill me three times
over. What I meant by the snowflake thing was that no two goblins
look very much alike. They were often some shade of green and they
were usually about 4 or 5 feet tall. After that things got more
complicated. Some goblins are hairless and scaly. Some goblins have
great big pointy ears. A lot of them have long and lanky
heavily-muscled limbs. But some of them didn’t have any of those
qualities. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Scientists
have theories on why goblins vary so widely from one to another.
Wizards have theories as well. Maybe the most ancient and learned
members of the goblin race know the answers. Most of the goblins
that I know really didn’t care about the reasons behind why they
were the way they were. Goblins are like that.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Mixed-race
goblins, like the butler against the wall, were an even bigger bag of
complicated. Some of them could pass for human if they wore baggy
clothing, others – like the butler – could nearly pass for
goblin. His head was wide and hairless and covered with tiny green
scales, his ears were big and pointy and rose inches above either
side of his head. And did I mention the teeth? Because the teeth
looked like they could easily grind me into paste and I like to
mention things like that.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I
turned to a blank page in my notebook and started sketching teeth.
Again, this wasn't relevant to the case in any way, but I was
stalling for time, after all. I snuck a quick glance around the room
again. If my last invitee didn't show up soon, someone's temper was
going to blow and then things would get harder.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Blast
it, Monday!” exclaimed Nate Crane as he burst up from the couch.
“How long are you going to make us sit around here? You promised
us answers!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I
sighed. Why am I always right when I least want to be?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Mr.
Crane,” I said in a soothing voice. “If you'll just be patient
for a few more minutes, I'll be able to explain everything.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Just
then the door banged open and an enormous man stormed into the room.
He was well over six feet tall and hugely overweight. His great bald
dome of a head gleamed brightly in the large room's witchlamps and a
great shaggy sprawl of red beard covered the lower half of his face
and spilled down his chest. He wore a New Jerusalem Police
Department badge on his shirt and a tie that defied all taste and
decorum.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Lt.
Mandrake!” I greeted him warmly, as an old friend deserves. “I'm
so glad you could make it. I was just telling Mr. Crane here that
you were on your way.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Fuck
you, Monday,” Mandrake growled. “You asked me to be here and I'm
here. Show me what you want me to see, but remember that you owe me
big time for this. I don't make house calls.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I
cleared my throat ostentatiously and straightened my tie, Jasper
Mandrake was a real charmer, but he was also the closest thing New
Jerusalem had to an honest cop. Mandrake cared and that was worth a
whole lot in my book. Also with the piles of cash that Belinda was
paying me, I could afford Mandrake’s bribes, which was worth even
more. Justice indeed, Mrs. Stanhope-Crane, justice indeed.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Now
that we're all assembled,” I said in my best public speaking voice.
“Let's begin. As you all know, Mrs. Stanhope-Crane hired me to
determine who was behind the murder of her husband, Malcolm Howard,
and also why he was murdered. I have asked you all to be here today
because I have the answers to those questions and more.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I
paused and let my gaze travel slowly across the large room, resting
my eyes briefly on each of the assembled. Some of them looked me in
the eyes, but others glanced away. Nervously? Shyly? Guiltily? It
was hard to say for certain. I let the moment linger. The butler
shifted slightly, moving into a stance that would allow him to move
quickly, or possibly start a fight. I noted that and moved on.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Mrs.
St – I'm sorry – Belinda,” I began in what I hoped was a
comforting tone of voice. “Your husband was not involved in the
scheme to steal all your money. All of the evidence that I've found
shows nothing but honest motivations. I believe that your husband
truly loved you and wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.
I am truly sorry.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> I paced
back and forth a little bit before going on, partly because it makes
me look thoughtful, but also because it provided a nice dramatic
pause.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Malcolm
wasn't killed by your sister or your son,” I continued. “In
fact, no member of your family was involved in the crime at all. The
true killer planted all of that evidence to throw investigators off
the track. And it worked, at least for a little while.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “The
handgun in Nathan's room?” asked Margaret Stanhope-O'Shaughnessy.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “The
plans to the family safe in Margaret's room?” asked Nathan Crane
simultaneously.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “All
put there by the true killer,” I assured them both. “To set you
against each other and to stall for time. Much like I've been doing
for some time now. Jasper, have your men found it yet?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Of
course they have,” Lt. Mandrake replied testily. “What do you
think took me so long?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “All
right then,” I smiled. “Bring it in, please.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Bring
it in!” bawled Mandrake in a huge ear-splitting voice.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> The
door opened once again and a uniformed police officer came in
carrying a two-foot tall statuette of a crying woman. It was nicely
sculpted, it looked pretty valuable. It was also the motive for
Malcolm Howard's murder.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “The
Weeping Lady?” asked Belinda Stanhope-Crane in disbelief. “What
about it?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Not
the Weeping Lady,” I replied. “This is a counterfeit. In fact,
it's one of nearly a dozen counterfeits which have been moving
through New Jerusalem for the last month.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Out of
the corner of my eye, I noticed the butler edging slowly backwards.
Unless I missed my guess – and I didn't – he was about to make
his move. So it was time for me to make mine.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Belinda,”
I said. “A trusted member of your staff has betrayed you, stolen
from you, and most tragic of all, when your husband discovered their
crimes, committed cold-blooded murder.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “But
who?” cried Belinda. “Who did it?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Perdition
take you all! I'm not going back to jail,” snarled a voice.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Twelve
sets of eyes swept the room, looking for the source of the snarl. It
was the cook and he had produced a handgun from somewhere and he was
pointing it right at Belinda Stanhope-Crane. Both Lt. Mandrake and
the uniformed officer were too far away to do anything, I was even
further away and if I moved at all the crooked cook would surely
shoot. Fortunately, I had planned ahead and had a shill in the
crowd.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> From
behind the cook and well out of his field of view, a massive
sledgehammer of a fist crashed into his head. The gun dropped from
his suddenly slackened fist and clunked to the floor loudly, followed
by the cook's unconscious body a moment later. I definitely never
wanted to be on the business end of those enormous mitts.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I
got him, Boss,” said the butler who wasn't a butler. His voice was
so deep I could feel it in my chest, no fully human throat would ever
produce a voice like that.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Good
job, Baxter,” I replied.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Baxter
Kline was my partner. Technically he was my employee, but that only
went so far as me paying him. He was a great partner and he added a
lot of value to the firm. When it came to actually following orders,
he wasn't so great. But that's okay as he frequently tells me that
I'm not so great as a boss either. We had infiltrated Baxter into
the household a few weeks ago and today it had paid off.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Wait,”
began Nathan Crane. “The butler is working for you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Yep,”
I replied with a grin. “He's my partner, Baxter Kline.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Thank
goodness!” exclaimed Belinda. “He was an awful butler. When all
of this was over, I was going to have to let him go.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Baxter
actually looked contrite. “Sorry Ma'am. I was so busy running
Zack's errands, I barely had any time for you at all.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Lt.
Mandrake,” I called. “If you and your associate would be so kind
as to drag the cook away in manacles I can get back to explaining
what exactly has been going on here for the last three weeks.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I
ain't your errand boy, Monday,” Mandrake growled, a dangerous edge
to his voice. “But seein' as this jerkhole pulled a deadly weapon
on an upstanding citizen, I guess it's my civic duty to haul him in.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Mandrake
turned towards the uniform and jerked a thumb towards the groaning
cook, “Kovacks? Haul the jerkhole in.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Yes
sir!” Kovacks replied smartly before busying himself with the
aforementioned task.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Right
about then the room exploded into a dozen different voices asking a
hundred different questions. I flipped my notebook open and smiled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Let
me start at the beginning,” I said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> About
an hour later everyone was finally satisfied with my answers, or at
the very least they were as satisfied as they were ever likely to
get. Mrs. Stanhope-Crane and I shook hands, she gave me a fat bonus
check – which I had totally earned, thank you very much, and we
said our good-byes. Lt. Mandrake and Officer Kovacks had long since
left with their collar, and everyone else had something important or
at least distracting that needed doing. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Baxter
and I left together in a shared cab. Sure we had made a good profit
on this case, but there was no sense in throwing away perfectly good
money. We rode in silence for a time while I deconstructed recent
events. I had expected things to go worse, frankly. The cook was a
career criminal; he had been part of an underground fighting ring for
a while. I had expected him to give Bax a run for his money in the
thug department. Don't get me wrong, Baxter Kline is a damn fine
thug, a true gentleman, and quite possibly the heir to the Goblin
Throne. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /> I realized Baxter was staring at me. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “What?”
I asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Why'd
you lie to her?” he rumbled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I
didn't!” I protested.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Howard
the hubby was in it up to his neck and you know it!” Baxter
rumbled.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “At
the beginning, sure!” I replied easily. “But he really did fall
in love with Belinda and his partner killed him for it. Can you tell
me what purpose would be served by hurting her with a meaningless
truth?”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “You
could argue that it would be doing the job she paid us to do,”
Baxter suggested.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “She
paid us for justice,” I said. “Justice is exactly what she got.
It's bad enough she lost her husband. I'm not going to be the one to
take away his memory as well.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Boss,
you are even more of a romantic sap than you are unabashed hambone.”
Baxter grumbled, but his smile softened the words and made a lie of
the grumble.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I
thought I did quite well in there,” I observed, changing the
subject to an area in which I was more comfortable.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Yeah,
yeah,” Baxter admitted. “You did just fine.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Ahem,”
I said, holding out my hand.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Baxter
glowered at me, but he shoved one of his massive paws into a jacket
pocket and pulled out a money clip. He peeled off a twenty and laid
it in my hand. I made a show of examining it, holding it up to the
light to look at the paper and such.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I
didn't actually think you'd blow it, Boss,” Baxter rumbled. “I
just think you've gotten too reliant on your pocket watch lately, and
with it in the shop for repairs....”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “I'm
more than my tools,” I sniffed in a fair approximation of Nathan
Crane's voice.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> As much
as I refused to admit it, Baxter had a point. My charmed pocket
watch was a powerful tool, and it helped me out quite a lot. A few
seconds warning right before any physical danger threatened my person
was a pretty handy thing to have around. I patted the jacket pocket
I usually kept the thing in to remind myself that it wasn't there. I
was operating without a net until the danger charm got out of the
shop. And that was okay, sometimes it was good to leave the safety
nets behind.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “This
was a damn good case,” I said. “And the perfect end to a perfect
day.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “Not
quite,” Baxter said. “We still don't have any idea what's going
on with the counterfeit statuette. Why are they smuggling art into
the city? And where is it coming from? We don't know any of that
stuff.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> “True,”
I agreed. “But none of that stuff is our problem. It's Jasper's
job not ours, not until someone pays us to do it.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Baxter
revealed a flask from within the folds of his trench coat. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I'll
drink to that,” Baxter said.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> And
that is exactly what we did.</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-71384375980895768022012-07-05T08:30:00.001-07:002012-07-05T08:30:01.750-07:00Winning the InternetI like to play with the Internet and I suspect you do as well, oh Faithful Reader. I watch for interesting things and I forward them along to amuse, enlighten, and inform my friends, family, and followers. If I'm really good and very lucky, I'll do all of it to all of them at the same time.<br />
<br />
I aspire to Internet greatness. I want a Google Footprint that can be seen from Outer Space. I want Wil Wheaton to ask me for tips on how to get more followers, I want George Takei to ask me to pass a funny picture along for him. I want to crash web servers faster than Neil Gaiman. I want to be in videos with Nathan Fillion and Felicia Day (and who doesn't?). Let's face it, like all the rest of you, I want to win the Internet. <br />
<br />
I think everybody who <strike>wastes too much</strike> spends a lot of time on the Internet has their own way of winning. Let's face it, there are good Internet days and bad ones. For me, the good ones include laughing at something clever that my friends did or saw (or in some cases wrote or invented), contributing an idea or two here and there, and maybe getting a new <a href="https://www.facebook.com/andy.kirschbaum" target="_blank">friend</a>, follower, <a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/111605916400675683782/posts" target="_blank">groupie</a>, or <a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/Baron_Saturday" target="_blank">tweep</a>.<br />
<br />
I have my little strategies, I will set aside time in my busy day (Busy doing what, you ask? Well, <a href="http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/" target="_blank">Girl Genius</a> isn't going to read itself after all, and <a href="https://www.heroup.com/" target="_blank">Super Hero Squad Online</a> has a hold on me that neither love nor money can break) to surf for good material to share. I am very lucky to have a wide and varied group of online friends and correspondents so my reach is long and my surfboard is mighty. Also I cheat by checking out sites like Neatorama. Incidentally, Neatorama is where a friend of mine recently found this little gem of a Gotye Filk, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJlbPXZEpRE" target="_blank">The Star Wars That I Used to Know</a>.<br />
<br />
As a savvy Internet user; when a friend (or even the occasional fan) passes me an interesting bit of news, trivia, information, or political/social commentary, I spend a few minutes tracking down another source for corroboration. It's embarrassing to pass along a hoax or an outright lie. I'm not saying I haven't done it. In fact, posterity will show some real howlers of mine. I'm saying I try not to do it. A quick side trip to <a href="http://www.snopes.com/" target="_blank">Snopes</a> or <a href="http://www.wikipedia.net/" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a> has saved me many a #webfail. Sometimes I so desperately want that <a href="http://www.theonion.com/" target="_blank">Onion</a> article to be true. Alas, they have always been just a joke. So far.<br />
<br />
Next I check for coverage. Maybe someone else in one of my social circles has already posted this and I can re-share their post. A side benefit of re-sharing something from a friend is giving them credit. If I can help someone win their own Internet, a winner is I. Besides, it's fun to come up with four or five different synonyms for shared. I stole this from Bob, who ganked it from Jane, who bogarted it from Mabel, who can reliably claim to have liberated it from Todd in a Leverage/Sneakers style high tech caper. Incidentally, on precisely two occasions I have posted a thing before the social media big fish found it and blew me out of the water. I take my celebrity where I can find it. Oh, and I've learned the hard way that if George Takei posts it, that $#!7 is covered.<br />
<br />
It's not all work, though. Believe it or not, you can play around a lot on the Internet too. And I'm not just talking about games either. I like to play with the Internet itself. I'm hardcore that way. (And yes, that is probably the only way that I'm hardcore.)<br />
<br />
One of my favorite Internet games is Media Racing. I post some allegedly juicy tidbit on Facebook, Google+, and Twitter at the same time and then bask in the glow of my own ego as I see which outlet reposts, shares, +1's, and likes it fastest. So far Facebook is the most frequent winner, but I think that's been established elsewhere, and besides, it's fun just to watch them run.<br />
<br />
I also like to watch the sales on my various personal creations. I've got an e-book that sells irregularly through numerous channels and I have an interactive novel/game thingee for both iPhones and Androids. I like to watch them race too, especially because races where you make actual money are even more fun. It's like watching people fill out online invitations to my birthday party, which
by the way always makes me feel simultaneously popular and
obsessive-compulsive. And for those who are curious, right now Verdigris for the Android is winning, but I still love all my literary children equally. <br />
<br />
Speaking of Verdigris, I really get a kick out of corresponding with folks who have played it and asking them which choices they made and why. One of the best parts about role playing games is getting live feedback from the players, and Verdigris is my chance to play a role playing game with everyone who ever reads it. Or should that be everyone who plays it? I'm never sure what verb one uses to describe the experience of an interactive novel. Read this game? Play this story?<br />
<br />
But I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, how I play the Internet... This very blog is my favoritest favorite way to play the Internet. It is here that I speak directly to you, oh Faithful Reader. Getting the occasional comment or even discussion going here make me feel like a Social Media creator and not just a pass through. So even though my output here is less frequent than I would prefer (I'm still pretty darn lazy and easily distracted ... mostly by the Internet, but I think I'm digressing again) I'm still here and I'm still trying to win the Internet.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-67615114693064446562012-06-09T15:47:00.000-07:002012-06-09T15:47:06.211-07:00It's not a rip off, it's an homageSo when I'm writing games, I rip other people's stories off a lot. But it's for the best, trust me. <br />
<br />
Maybe I can't write like Shakespeare, but he ripped off most of his best ideas, and I can certainly follow in those footsteps.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I mostly steal concepts, ideas, character archetypes, and themes. I recombine them, recycle them, and re-use them. I'm an ecologically-aware writer, if there's ever a world-wide idea shortage, I will be on the forefront of the idea recycling movement!<br />
<br />
<br />
You only have so much time to tell a story and you have to share it with the players and what they want to do. If I need to spend a lot of time establishing a particular character, or society, or bit of technology, that's basically just me sitting at one end of the table narrating to my players. It's not really interactive and unless I'm a really good storyteller, it's kind of boring. Heck, sometimes even I get bored of doing all the talking. Every word I can avoid saying is another word my players can jam in edgewise. Believe me that's a good thing.<br />
<br />
Ripping off somebody else's idea - especially a well-known idea that is shared by most, if not all of my players - saves a lot of time. For example, if I base a society on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_Empire" target="_blank">Imperial Rome</a> and drop a few not-so-subtle hints about it, all of my players have a big leg up on the story I'm telling and they can then cooperate by contributing their own bits if they choose to. If I want to introduce a character with crazy-advanced technology and I have them whip out what is obviously a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonic_screwdriver" target="_blank">sonic screwdriver</a>, the players are likely to recognize it, even if their characters don't. It's a short cut and it puts everyone on more or less the same page. Now I can move the story along and give my players some well-deserved spotlight time.<br />
<br />
This is even more useful in a one-shot game. When I'm writing a character sheet for a 4 hour live action game, I like to keep it under six pages, including abilities and contact list (the ever-popular 'Who You Knows'). That doesn't leave an awful lot of room. If I could make the sheets shorter, I would. Most people won't memorize much more than two pages, so every page I go longer is that many more times a player needs to whip out his character sheet and bring the game to a screeching halt while they 'search their memories.' I like to keep things moving and minimize character sheet checking, so I keep the sheets short.<br />
<br />
The best method I've found for having well-rounded and fleshed-out characters that can be written in under six pages is <strike>stealing</strike> referencing other people's ideas. I don't always copy a character outright (but when I do, I do it like an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Most_Interesting_Man_in_the_World" target="_blank">internet meme</a>) but if I can get the basic concept across in a paragraph or two instead of a page or two, that's a big space saver. How many pages would it take me to describe <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darth_Vader" target="_blank">Darth Vader</a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolverine_%28comics%29" target="_blank">Wolverine</a>? Answer: a whole lot. But I can convey to a player that a character is 'just like' Vader or Wolverine in less than a page. Plus it gives them some potential ideas on how to portray the character and what his or her motivations might be. Even better, if the player does choose to portray the character as strongly reminiscent of the inspiration, the players who interact with the character will also benefit from the reference. Of course, this brings up the question of player knowledge versus character knowledge, but that's a subject for another blog. Short answer, I tend towards revealing as much as possible to the player in the hopes that it will inform their portrayal of the character and I leave 'firewalling' to the player. Besides, this incarnation of the character is very likely to have an entirely different set of dark secrets to discover so knowing an 'alternate universe' version of the character isn't as much of a leg up as one might imagine.<br />
<br />
Characters aren't and shouldn't be static things. Even a concept that began as a point-for-point <strike>rip off</strike> homage to another character can and should evolve and grow beyond its origins. Campaigns are excellent for that sort of thing. But starting off with a good point of reference and a well-known media touchstone is a great start. One of the best characters I've ever seen started off as a fairly blatant clone of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kara_Thrace" target="_blank">Battlestar Galactica's Starbuck</a> (the modern one). The character went through a lot of changes, situations and challenges and ended her run three years later as a fully-realized, unique and compelling character that would have graced any series she appeared in. Would the character have gone as far without literary shoulders to stand on? Maybe, maybe not, but it worked and ripping off things that worked is what this blog post is all about.<br />
<br />
Taking other people's characters and putting them into new and different situations is nothing new, fan fiction has been doing it for decades, taking other people's ideas and expanding on them or re-combining them in new and different ways isn't new either, it's called '<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genre" target="_blank">genre</a>.' But using it as a short cut or place holder for character development is a powerful application for both players and game masters of tabletop and live action games.<br />
<br />
There are other ways to go, of course. I've gotten more than my fair share of twenty page character sheets, I've seen a lot of bold and unique characters, in fact some of the best players, writers, and game masters insist on creating entirely new and original characters every time. Some situations call for originality and others call for a reference. Keep a large toolbox and <strike>steal</strike> use the right tool for the right job.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-2638938601133616292012-05-10T14:49:00.000-07:002012-05-10T14:49:13.182-07:00Freedom of Choice and Other RPG DisastersIf I were asked to list the most important quality of a role playing game I might not think of the freedom to make your own choices right away, but I sure as heck would get to it somewhere in the top 10. Choice is an integral part of role playing and is implicit in nearly every interaction a player has with the game master. The GM tells you much of what you see, hear, smell, and so forth and follows up with the single most common (and most important) question: "What do you do?"<br />
<br />
Often there isn't much real choice available. Do you hit the orc with your sword or do you shoot an arrow at him with your longbow? Do you hurl mystic fire or mystic ice at the troll? "Fire, duh. Trolls regenerate ice damage." But either way, it's a tactical decision more than an actual choice. In this context, any choice is constrained and generally 'safe.' Which is to say, it is unlikely to derail the game master's plans for the evening. Nor is it going to seriously endanger your character's existence or the party's overall success... At least not any more than any other roll of the polyhedral.<br />
<br />
But there are other kinds of choices. Do we kick in the front door of the dungeon or sneak around and try to find a back way? Sometimes these choices don't have a huge effect, if the dungeon already features a back way in on the map, the GM is pretty well-prepared. Likewise, everything is peachy if it absolutely doesn't have a back door. But there are occasions where it can cause problems. What if there is a back way in, but the GM had counted on the players learning something key in the first few rooms? Some bit of plot that either relates to the larger story or a key secret that will allow them to defeat the hideous undead lord they are destined to meet at the very bottom of the dungeon? Now the GM has to scramble. Is there a way to duplicate that important bit elsewhere? Should the GM utter that infamous phrase, "No. You can't do that?" Should the GM let the dice fall where they may and allow the possibility for players to make mistakes, or even fail entirely because of what seemed like a reasonable choice at the time?<br />
<br />
There's no single right or wrong answer to these questions. Every group can find its own way through these thorny issues. But if the players and the GM never discuss these things, no decision will be made consciously. Communication is hugely important. As a GM, I don't want my players to be frustrated because they failed due to a circumstance beyond their control. At the same time, I'm proud of my adventures, my stories, and my schmaltzy jokes. I want the players to see as much of my grand tapestry as possible. I want as much of the hard work I put into the game to show as possible. Selfish? Heck, yeah, I am.<br />
<br />
In my experience, players tend to be very risk-averse in a game. They always want the maximum return for the minimum risk. And they plain hate to lose, let alone suffer the ignominy of character death. Losing happens and so does character death, but players will almost always move heaven, earth, and various elemental planes to avoid it. This leads to a lot of careful planning whenever the players think their characters are heading into a dangerous situation. Which is pretty much all of the time in an adventure game, right? So that means a lot of time is going to be spent on things that would never be explored in a novel, movie, or comic book.<br />
<br />
There's a reason why editors cut that stuff out or boil it down to a quick-cut montage set to 80's music: it's boring. It isn't any less boring when it's hashed out at the table. Even worse, it can lead to players arguing with each other - there's nothing wrong with characters arguing with each other - but I hate it when my friends fight for real. I think these arguments are based on the fear that there is a <i>Right Decision</i> and a <i>Wrong Decision</i>. And if the players make the Wrong Decision, the GM will Punish Them with loss or even death. Did I mention that most players hate losing and/or dying?<br />
<br />
The other night I ran a game of D&D 4th Edition and I wanted the players to have a real say in where the campaign went. We were at a turning point and the plan would play a large part in determining the stories we tell together for the rest of the campaign. So it was an important choice and it was a wide-open free choice. I literally didn't care which way the game went, because I hadn't written it yet. In this case, there was no wrong choice. I had nothing prepared that would be wasted if the players never saw it. I had no serious preconception of how the campaign would play out. Whatever decision the group came to was pretty much by definition the Right Decision.<br />
<br />
But neither the players nor their characters knew any of that. And I think that's a good thing, but it has consequences. In this case, the consequence was the conversation spinning down into frustration and discord. The decision was SO IMPORTANT that the players didn't dare make the wrong choice. In game disagreements were on the verge of becoming real life frustrations and tempers were fraying.<br />
<br />
So I stepped out from behind the GM screen (metaphorically-speaking, I didn't actually get out of my chair) and told them pretty much everything I just wrote down in this here blog post. There was a sort of a pause while it all sunk in and then everyone immediately agreed on the option that sounded like the most enjoyable, exciting, and adventurous choice. The entire argument was over in less than a minute and everyone seemed pretty happy with the conclusion.<br />
<br />
Except me.<br />
<br />
Anytime I have to break the fourth wall and explain something directly to the players, I remind them all that this is "only a game." Everyone breaks character and the whole fantasy world that we're all working (playing) so hard to create gets a little less vibrant and feels a little less real. We never did get back into character that night. The conversation rapidly turned to <i>Marvel's The Avengers </i>and other non-game matters. I totaled up the experience points we had racked up for the evening, did all the necessary accounting, and the game wrapped on an up-note.<br />
<br />
But I think I could have done better. I'm just not sure how. There's a certain amount of deception that any role-playing game must involve. There are some fights the characters are simply never going to lose - almost all of them, in fact. But I want the players to feel on some level that they could always lose. That's what makes winning so cool. To use a movie analogy, sometimes the choice is between cutting the
red versus the green wire in a bomb. Making the Wrong Choice is bad. But sometimes the choice is
who to date. That's a pretty big choice, but from the pool of legitimate
candidates, there may not actually be a wrong choice, just different
choices. If we are always frank and honest and open about everything, a lot of
dramatic tension goes right out the window, never to return. But if we
aren't all on the same page about which decisions are important but
safe, which ones are important and risky, and which ones are just color
text ... well, that's just no fun at all, is it?<br />
<span dir="ltr" id=":1b5"></span> <br />
I'm still working on it. Has your table hit on this problem? How'd you deal with it? I'd love to hear from game masters and players alike.<br />
<br />
Wednesday, May 9th, 2012<br />
Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-19282043976366953592012-03-23T13:31:00.005-07:002012-03-23T14:46:29.043-07:00Nuts and BoltsWith the recent (and long-awaited) release of Verdigris for the Droid platform I thought this would be a nice time to talk about my approach to writing multiple choice interactive fiction in general and Verdigris in specific. I grew up on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choose_Your_Own_Adventure">Choose Your Own Adventure</a> game books as well as great computer games like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zork">Zork</a> and its many cousins and descendents.<br /><br />These games were and are great fun and I cannot recommend them too highly. Actually that's not quite true, if I were to say that playing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interactive_fiction">interactive fiction</a> games would forever end the threat of nuclear war in our lifetimes, I would be recommending them too highly. But short of that, they are pretty dang nifty. The thrill of interactive fiction (hereafter occasionally referred to as IF to save space and delay the inevitable onset of carpal tunnel) is much the same as that of role playing games like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dungeons_%26_Dragons">Dungeons & Dragons</a> and all of its cousins and venerable descendents: Stepping outside of your own head and your own life, creating an alter ego and having adventures, solving mysteries and just generally dealing with problems that aren't the same old mundane ones you have to deal with in Real Life. As most people who have met me know, I am no great fan of Real Life.<br /><br />The problem with a lot of interactive fiction games is that they are mostly constructed out of frustration. Many IF games require you to learn the language and structure of each game. That takes time and can be painful and - wait for it - frustrating. Anyone who has played an IF game has had screaming arguments with their computer that go something like this:<br /><br />Computer says: <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">You see an interesting umbrella, you should pick it up</span></span></span><br />Player types: <span style="font-family:courier new;">Pick up umbrella<br /></span>Computer replies: <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">I don't see an umbrella here</span><br /></span></span>Player types: <span style="font-family:courier new;">Pick up parasol</span><br />Computer replies: <span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">I don't see a parasol here</span><br /></span></span>Player types: <span style="font-family:courier new;">Look around<br /></span>Computer replies: <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">You see an interesting umbrella, you should pick it up<br /></span></span></span>Player types: <span style="font-family: courier new;">Pick up the freaking umbrella!!!!!<br /></span>Computer replies: <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">There's no need to get upset here, I'm just doing my job. Did you want to pick up the umbrella?<br /></span></span></span>Player types: <span style="font-family: courier new;">Yes!</span><br />Computer replies: <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family: courier new;">I don't understand what you mean.</span></span><br /><br />At this point, Player often throws his computer through a convenient window. But once you get the hang of each program's specific quirks and requirements they're a lot of fun. Trust me here. But what Team Verdigris wanted to do was create a vibrant interactive world with lots of real choices and real consequences that was as close to frustration-free as we could manage. Unfortunately, that meant front-loading all the frustration onto ourselves. We used a structure that allows the players to choose whatever missions they want in pretty much any order they choose, and because it's all multiple choice, there was no need to learn the program's idiosyncratic language.<br /><br />The consequence of this choice was what we began calling zombie chips. Small spoiler here: the consequences of your choices in the game can lead to the deaths of some of the characters you interact with. The problem with this is that some players will move forward in the game with a particular character being alive and others with that same character being dead. This was a ticklish logic problem that led to a bit of a walking dead problem, or in some cases, a bit of a lying down living problem. It's hard to keep a good character down in Verdigris, even when they're dead.<br /><br />The other problem we had was the vanishing button conundrum. Many of the missions in Verdigris feature several different investigative paths that all lead to the same conclusion (more or less, your choices matter) but some require that the player follow every lead to piece together all the information. For these, we created structure that lets the player follow the leads in any order they choose, mostly because it's more fun that way. When each track was completed, the player is sent back to a central screen where they report back and then choose the next track. In theory, the button that leads to the tracks they've already completed will no longer appear. This is all well and good, but sometimes it led to a player getting back to a screen that had no buttons at all. There was literally no way out other then jumping around using the map mechanic or actually restarting your game. This may be my first game, but I rapidly concluded that this was a design flaw.<br /><br />Tracking down the logic errors that causes these vanishing button dead ends was a mystery as challenging as any in the actual game. Some of these central screens have over 60 discrete code elements and figuring out which one is buggy ... well Dear Reader, it ain't easy. Team Verdigris has spent hundreds (and hundreds, and hundreds) of hours playing the heck of the game trying to find and fix all of these pesky problems. Did we get them all? Probably not. Will we fix them when players find them? Absolutely. Will it be easy? That would be a big nope. Is it worth it? I said is it worth it? Hello? Is this thing on? Anybody? Is it worth the late nights, the early mornings, the lonely SOs, and the crushing poverty?<br /><br />...<br /><br />Only you, Dear Reader can answer that question for us. Play Verdigris and let us know. That is all.<br /><br />March 23, 2012<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-6800058350311058882012-02-25T10:30:00.011-08:002012-02-25T12:56:29.146-08:00But Seriously, Folks...I've got something serious to talk about.<br /><br />I know, I know ... serious is pretty far outside my wheelhouse. I promise to be relatively brief. Please bear with me. Thanks.<br /><br />This week I made the decision to enter the e-book of <a href="http://amzn.to/AvPi2n">Monday and the Murdered Man</a> into Amazon's Kindle Select Program. This is a pretty exciting program that lets Amazon Prime members borrow my book for free, it also offers me various promotional and publicity support options (which is plenty exciting for me at least). But there are downsides. During the promotional period, <a href="http://amzn.to/AvPi2n">Monday and the Murdered Man</a>, the e-book will be available exclusively from Amazon.<br /><br />I am philosophically opposed to exclusive deals. I think they're bad for industry in general. Exclusivity did incalculable damage to the comic book industry (which as you might well know is near and dear to my heart). Going back a few decades it wasn't so hot for the Betamax either.<br /><br />So, all in all, this decision is out of character at best and downright hypocritical at worst. That being said, I thought I'd share some of my thought process on the matter. It mostly comes down to voice and reach. I'm an opinionated fellow and I've got a lot to say. I'm also impatient and I'd rather not wait 10 years to become an overnight success if I can avoid it. Marketing is a big part of my plan. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IDIC#.22Infinite_Diversity_in_Infinite_Combinations.22">Infinite Marketing in Infinite Diversion</a> (Roddenberry forgive me) is my basic strategy. I'm going around to conventions and book clubs and book stores, and libraries and anything else I can think of. I'm posting on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/andy.kirschbaum">Facebook</a>, tweeting on <a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/Baron_Saturday">Twitter</a> and +1-ing on <a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/111605916400675683782/posts">Google</a> +. If people want to listen to me talk, I will go forth and talk to them.<br /><br />At first blush this line of thinking should fly in the face of going exclusive. You can probably see why this whole mess is giving me a brain ache. The thing is, I know I can't do everything all at once. I can only speak in one venue at a time and I'm comfortable with that (although if anyone has any ideas on how to get around that limitation, I'm willing to listen).<br /><br />By focusing for a while on Amazon sales exclusively I am hoping to get more exposure in the largest e-book arena, hopefully more exposure will get more people reading and listening, more people reading and listening hopefully gives me a chance to share my thoughts, ideas, and philosophies about How Things Should Be (tm and patent pending) with a wider audience. Enlightened self interest for the win? Hopefully.<br /><br />In the eternal battle between pure artistic integrity and becoming a shameless sell-out, I definitely lean towards the shameful. I rely on my friends, editors and fans to tell me if I go too far. I figure that as long as I'm producing a quality product, it's my fiduciary duty to sell it as well as I know how. And let's be honest with each other, shall we? I could use some more money off this project. My day job is running a game store, which is only slightly more profitable than writing novels (which is only slightly more profitable than wishing real hard for it to rain zinc).<br /><br />So will my nefarious plans for financial solvency and minor celebrity status succeed? That's an excellent question and one that I am keenly interested in. Stick around and we'll find out together. In the meantime, I have a lot of writing to do.<br /><br />Thanks for listening and I'll try to be funnier next time.<br /><br />February 25th, 2012<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-4854083300602309392012-02-18T20:09:00.000-08:002012-02-20T11:17:07.898-08:00It's all part of The ProcessSometimes it is difficult for the untrained eye to spot the difference between a working writer and a lazy slacker. I'll admit that there are certain similarities, so I'm all too willing to forgive the error. I have a lot of conversations that go a lot like this:<br /><br />Her: What are you doing?<br />Me: Writing.<br />Her: You're playing Facebook games.<br />Me: It's all part of The Process.<br />Her: Are you sure?<br />Me: I'm sure.<br /><br />Time passes.<br /><br />Her: What are you doing now?<br />Me: Writing.<br />Her: You're watching Farscape!<br />Me: If you already knew what I was doing why did you bother to ask?<br /><br />More time passes.<br /><br />Me: Before you ask, yes I'm writing.<br />Her: You're getting drunk.<br />Me: It's part of The Process.<br />Her: Are you sure?<br />Me: It is crazy, how sure I am!<br /><br />So there it is. <br /><br />Can you, Dear Reader, spot the differences? No? To be honest ... some days, neither can I. There's definitely something to be said for keeping the conscious mind occupied while letting the 'boys in the basement' (to pilfer a line from <a href="http://www.stephenking.com/index.html">Stephen King</a>) do their work. I personally find that some level of distraction and refocusing is absolutely necessary to do creative work. I hear that <a href="http://www.neilgaiman.com">Neil Gaiman</a> likes to go for long drives. <a href="http://www.jenniferpelland.com/">Jennifer Pelland</a> does belly dancing (and she does it quite well.) And it is crazy how many authors like to get blasted out of their minds on the controlled substance of their choice.<br /><br />But on the other side of the keyboard, there are countless authors who fritter away their days goofing off, waiting for the muse who never comes, and building social empires out of Twitter accounts. Most of these authors don't get enough written. And I, Dear Reader, am very much one of Those Authors. There are many different jobs that a writer needs to get done. Some of them require some goof off time, many others require a whole lot of focus, dedication, and time in chair. For every hour I spend day dreaming about plot, I need to put in 6 more on writing and 20 more into editing. <br /><br />Creating plot is the fun part for me; it's the bold and exciting part of any project where there are no wrong answers and everything is possible. Then there's the nuts and bolts writing, worrying about word choice, timing, continuity, style, and character. And then comes the dreaded editing. Punctuation, spelling, grammar, typographical errors, and all the other hobgoblins of good writing are the anchor that drags me down.<br /><br />Which just makes it all the more exciting when I flex my mighty metaphorical thews and stand proud, lifting the anchor above my head and howling the author's fierce victory cry, "The End!" Somewhere between the slacker gazing out the window and the head's down keyboard cowboy, I get my best work done.<br /><br />None of this is easy on my writing partners, most of whom have much, much better working habits than I do. Through clever planning and unearned audacity, I have multiple deadlines all converging right about ... now. Feverish typing at 3 in the morning has become pretty normal for me, and my collaborators are probably getting equally used to seeing my latest work first thing in the morning. I hope that working with me is rewarding on some level, because it surely frustrates on more than one.<br /><br />For those of you out there looking forward to the final session of <a href="http://www.serendipitystation.org">Serendipity Station</a> and Feast of the Minotaur at <a href="http://www.interactiveliterature.org/L/index.php">Intercon L</a>, please say nice things to my co-writers about how patient and considerate they have been. For those of you patiently waiting for my next interactive smart phone app and novel, that is still a way's off... For those patiently waiting for my next blog posting, here it is! How do you like it so far?<br /><br />It has been said that writers wear many hats, the mind set, skill set, and temperament required for getting a rough draft out of your brain and onto the computer screen is entirely different from the hats you have to wear during later phases of any literary project. Switching gears is very hard for me, and I'm sure it's just as challenging for most other writers. But the rewards are pretty great so I'll keep doing it as long as I can. Because, frankly, I suck even worse at most everything else.<br /><br />President's Day 1/20/2012<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-41808387263301973002012-01-31T20:53:00.000-08:002012-02-01T10:11:26.849-08:00Putting things off, one thing at a timeIf I have one true gift in this world it is procrastination. I'll put my putting-things-off skills against any and all comers. I'm so good at procrastinating, I can even get behind schedule on my Facebook games. Don't try this at home, kids. And definitely don't try it at work or you'll be having some unfriendly conversations with your supervisor.<br /><br />As evidence of my prodigious skills, I am actually procrastinating on six different projects at the very same time. I'm currently blowing off writing two <a href="http://www.interactiveliterature.org/L/Schedule.php?action=25&EventId=300&RunId=596">live</a> <a href="http://www.serendipitystation.org/info/info.html">action</a> games, an iPhone application, and a novel. I'm failing to play test another app and not getting much marketing done on yet a <a href="http://bit.ly/kluTJH">third</a> (except the last two are both mostly the same). To round out my list, I'm behind schedule on marketing the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Monday-Murdered-Man-Tale-World/dp/0984768211/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1328078307&sr=1-2">novel</a> that put me near the map.<br /><br />What am I doing? Besides watching <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Farscape">Farscape</a> re-runs, reading back issues of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Factor_Investigations">X-Factor</a> digital comics, and playing Castleville on Facebook, that is? Well, at least I'm writing this blog. In fact, I am about to check one of my longest over due commitments off my to-do list. Yes, Dear Reader (and to you especially, Mr. Smith) I am pleased (and somewhat surprised) to announce my long-awaited thoughts on <span style="font-style: italic;">Once Upon a Time in Tombstone.</span><br /><br />For those who came in late or just don't remember anything from last year, <span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone</span> was a live action game I played down in Maryland back in October 2011. It was a big deal for me because, unlike most games I'm playing these days, <span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone</span> was a weekend-long game. I love the three day form, it offers more complicated stories and more time for character development without the commitment of a full campaign.<br /><br />I also think that more people are willing to go for the epic fail and a glorious public demise in a weekend than they are in either a campaign or a shorter game. I'm a big fan of character loss in live action games. There's a difference between the player winning and the character winning. One of these days I'd like to see a villain's character sheet that plainly states the character's goal is to get caught by the good guys for the opportunity to give a 'This is how I did it' speech. I love giving those speeches. And there's nothing like being the guest of honor at a hanging to get the whole game to pay attention to you for a minute or two.<br /><br />Which brings us back to <span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone</span>. I knew from the start my character was going to come to a sticky end on Sunday afternoon. The character sheet that I had received weeks before made that much clear. It's wonderfully freeing to know the time of your own demise. For example, I knew that no matter how much of a bastard I was all day Friday and Saturday, I was invulnerable. They couldn't kill my character because I was fated for that on Sunday sometime after High Noon. The worst they could do to me was try to throw me in jail. And did I mention that my utter bastard of a character was also the Tombstone County Sheriff? The Game Masters were very, very good to me and I thank them for that.<br /><br />So while the majority of the game was scrambling around trying to solve mysteries, mend broken romances, discover hidden identities, and avenge themselves on the man who shot their Pa, I was able to wander through it all with a smug smile on my face and a song in my black heart. I drawled venomous honey in equal measure at the lawmen who wanted me in jail and the outlaws who wanted me dead. It was great fun being a man in the middle. My character wasn't as bad as the bandits who terrorized Tombstone, but he was blackmailing and bullying his business partners, smuggling rotgut hooch to the Indians, swindling half the town with a bogus silver claim, and tricking a Russian millionaire into thinking he had shot an Indian for sport (yeah, we stole it from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maverick_%28film%29"><span style="font-style: italic;">Maverick</span></a>, that's part of why it was so much fun). And there might have been some dark secrets in my past about conspiracy to murder the previous Sheriff (Tom Destry, Sr.) and frame his best friend (Washington Dimsdale) for the deed. I was a bad, bad man. My character was an amalgamation of Bill Cobb from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silverado_%28film%29"><span style="font-style: italic;">Silverado</span></a> and Behan from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tombstone_%28film%29"><span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone</span></a>. This was a choice villain and the game's meta-mechanics allowed me to ham it up without fear of wrecking anyone else's game or prematurely ending my own.<br /><br />The writers also had a nice mechanic to represent the endless vistas and ranges that are the staple of many a Western. A good-sized function room was devoted to County Land. Two dozen different parcels of land were represented by masking tape boundaries and printed signs. A pile of chairs and a long table in the back corner comprised the bandits' secret hideout. I went there once or twice in character, but my Sheriff really didn't get along very well with the bandits. I did manage to score a few hundred dollars by offering to suppress some wanted notices, but that was mostly just for fun. The real money was in crooked railroad deals and duping Russian millionaires.<br /><br />There was so much going on in the game that I was barely aware of 80% of the plots. The continuous hustle and bustle of the bulk of the players was a fantastic back drop to my own triumphs and tragedies. A good game provides its own dramatic canvas the same way a good novel does.<br /><br />More or less smack-dab in the middle of all of this criminal fun was the big poker game of Saturday night. I'm always seriously ambivalent about any kind of game-within-a-game mechanic in live action. Even if it's my favorite game in the world, it still drops a player out of the action and steals valuable plot and role play time, not to mention the havoc it can cause other players whose plots are hung up until they can talk to your character. I am pleased to say that the poker mechanics worked unusually well for me in <span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone. </span><br /><br />First off, the mechanic for playing poker was mostly 'play poker.' This may sound like a no-brainer but you'd be surprised. A big part of the appeal to live action games is being able to feel like you're doing something you can't do very well in real life. Between that and the lamentable fact that it takes a long time to finish a game of poker, a lot of game writers choose to either dramatically simplify the game rules or replace it with an entirely different mechanic. <span style="font-style: italic;">Tombstone</span> chose a middle road; they gave limited-use game powers that could improve a hand but the basic betting, bidding, and bluffing was pure poker.<br /><br />The other thing I really liked about playing cards for an hour or two was the table talk mechanic. Some characters had special abilities that forced other players to reveal secrets, motivations, and knowledge across the table. I didn't have any of the abilities, but I sure had my share of juicy secrets. Being forced to reveal my nefarious plans was a big surprise, but I was comforted by the knowledge that I couldn't die before my time and that - as Sheriff - I was all but immune to jail time as well. What were they going to do to me? Nothing, that's what. Much like the movie villains I was inspired by, I swaggered boldly through a town full of people who knew I was dirty but couldn't touch me. This was live action gold, Dear Reader.<br /><br />I eventually went bust in the poker tournament, which was just fine with me, I was ready to go back and mingle some more. Besides, all the people who knew the details of my dirty dealings were still 'trapped' in the poker game. Can I get a good old-fashioned villainous laugh? Mwah Ha Hah and so forth.<br /><br />Sunday morning brought me to my last hurrah, and quite a hurrah it was. I got to lounge around in the street outside the Shootout at the OK Corral, I got to gloat about having managed to purchase the most valuable parcel of land in the entire game, and got to drawl yet another vaguely creepy threat to my business partner, flashing my smug and toothy smile all the while. For maximum drama, it was important to hold up my 'nothing can touch me' attitude right up until the last moment.<br /><br />That last moment came when a combined posse of the Earp Brothers, Tom Destry, Jr., Sheriff Washington Dimsdale and a disguised (and mostly reformed) Jesse James came to call me to task for my crimes. I leapt to my feet and drew my trusty six-gun. And Destry shot the gun out of my hand. Well that simply wouldn't do! But fortunately I had a second gun which I promptly drew. And Wyatt Earp shot the gun out of my other hand. Golly, this was getting old fast. As luck would have it, my occasional partner in crime, Johnny Ringo was in the crowd and he managed to throw me his spare gun without anyone noticing (in character, anyway). I deftly caught Ringo's shooting iron (in character anyway) and pulled it up, ready to shoot good ol' Dimsdale the reformed-and-lovable town drunk right in the heart. And Doc Holiday shot the gun out of my hand.<br /><br />Moments like this are why I play these games. If I'm going to lose, this is the way I want it to be! They took away my County Sheriff's badge and threw me in my own jail. The writers of Tombstone had cleverly put the jail cell right in the center of game space, so lots of people came by to talk to me and to ask me what I was doing in my own jail cell. And I, in classic hammy villainous tradition, got to wax on about how I was going to get the no-good-do-gooders who did this to me.<br /><br />I got my trial in a speedy fashion. The good guys wanted to convict me of killing the previous Sheriff, but the writers had made me too wily and they couldn't pin it on me. The only crime they could prove was my old smuggling hooch to the local Indians operation. Fortunately for justice's sake, Judge Roy Bean had no qualms at all about sentencing me to hang for hooch smuggling; an elegant solution to the lack of murder evidence, we all thought.<br /><br />And so we come to my hanging time and my brief minutes of undivided attention. I stood on a chair and held the noose in my hands. Sadly, the length of twine that served as noose prop was way too small to go over my big fat head, but there is an amusing picture of me wearing it like a tiara somewhere on Facebook. I ranted. I gloated. I confessed to everything and I cursed the men who had brought me down. In short, Dear Reader, I was in my glory. Losing is a lot of fun when you do it right.<br /><br />My story may have been over, but the rest of the game wasn't. I did a quick and dirty costume change and hung around game space as Generic Townsfolk and watched the inevitable and over-the-top gunfights, duels, and knife fights that comprised a large chunk of the game's dramatic conclusions. There was plenty of steely-eyed staredowns, mustache twitches, bluster and bravado followed by a whole lot of shooting and at least one harmonica solo. In short, it was epic. Thanks once again to the writers, game masters, assistants, and players who worked and played together for one magical weekend, once upon a time ... in Tombstone.<br /><br />And now I think I have procrastinated enough for one evening. It's high time I got back to writing Feast of the Minotaur for <a href="http://www.interactiveliterature.org/L/index.php">Intercon L</a>. Or maybe I'll watch a little more Farscape first ... ?<br /><br />Chelmsford, MA<br />February 1, 2012Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-29108614775484306242012-01-22T14:45:00.000-08:002012-01-23T14:14:30.895-08:00Love and Hate at Arisia (2012 Edition)I was fortunate enough to attend the Arisia 2012 Science Fiction & Fantasy literary convention recently. I've been to many previous Arisia conventions and, as usual, it was a great time. In addition to a terrific literary schedule, Arisia also features plenty of media entertainment (often into the wee small hours of the night before and morning after), a top notch costuming track, and enough great shopping to beggar a far wealthier man than myself. All of these are good things.<br /><br />This year, for the first time ever, Arisia featured a reading and a signing by Yours Truly. Note how I subtly imply that this fact comprises some kind of Big Deal (tm and patent pending). That's a literary technique called 'making stuff up.' Those of you in the audience who aspire to the fabulous lifestyle of a published author might want to take notes at this point.<br /><br />Thanks to Martin Luther King Jr., Arisia is a 4 day convention. My reading was early on Friday and I spent most of the week leading up to what we shall henceforth refer to as 'The Event' worrying that no one would show up. I mean literally no one, I was more than half convinced that I would get lost on the way and not show up myself. I spent the remaining time that week practicing the passage I was going to read. To do this I had to do something risky. I had to read my own book. I've known a lot of creative people in my life and the main thing they always have in common is the answer to two simple questions: What is the least favorite thing you've ever done and what is the most favorite thing you have ever done? The answers are 'the thing I just finished is my least favorite and the thing I'm working on right now is my favorite.' I already knew my own answer to the second question, I'm about hip-deep into 'Monday and the Apocalypse Engine' and I am very excited about it. It's my favorite thing right now. What I didn't see coming was my answer to the first question.<br /><br />I sat down to take a serious look at my own book for the first time since I finished it. A little perspective here, 'Monday and the Murdered Man' is getting great reviews, both from professional reviewers and casual readers. I have been thrilled and gratified all to heck and gone by all these positive reviews. Imagine my surprise when I discovered they were all totally off base. I wasn't gripped by the opening words, I wasn't amused by my own witty banter, and I wasn't happy. I discovered to my shock and chagrin that the book I have just completed was my least favorite of all (1) of my books.<br /><br />In desperation, I turned to my friends who had read - and in some cases, edited - my book. Each of them assured me affectionately that I was crazy and quite possibly stupid as well and also that my book was just fine. I love my friends, truly I do. Thus heartened, I packed up my life into the new and improved Authormobile and headed into Boston for the show.<br /><br />I only got a little lost which is pretty good for me and I got all checked in and registered in plenty of time for my reading. Kudos to the Arisia operations staff for an efficient and speedy process even with hundreds and hundreds of people arriving all at once. Incidentally, the registration line is a great place to meet people, everyone goes there ... sooner or later.<br /><br />I was scheduled to read alongside <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_H._Hunt">Walter Hunt</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Stallman">Richard Stallman</a>. At this point, Dear Reader, you may be asking yourself, 'Was Andy nervous and insecure reading alongside two people way more famous than he is?' The answer, Dear Reader, is 'You bet your ass I was.' But I acted all cool and calm, because that is what the cool and calm kids do.<br /><br />I was up first and read my prepared piece. It went quite well. People laughed in the right places and applauded politely when I was done. Messrs. Stallman and Hunt read after me and there was some time left and I was encouraged to read more. I had not prepared more material which did not make me less nervous or insecure, but I soldiered on (authored on?) and read the next chapter. It went well too. Who would have guessed?<br /><br />After the Event I had a few spare hours to wander around, meet people, shop at the dealer's room, and generally catch my breath before the midnight vampire panel where I was speaking. There is very little that is more fun than talking about vampires after midnight at a science fiction fantasy convention. My thanks to the other panelists and our great audience!<br /><br />My signing was at 10am the next morning, so coffee was my friend and savior. I was seated next to the charming and talented <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toni_Kelner">Toni L.P. Kelner</a> so I knew that even if no one came by I would have a good time. As it turned out, quite a few people visited and my first signing flew by. May all my future signings go nearly as well!<br /><br />After the signing, I grabbed brunch with some friends and cruised the convention in a nerd herd until my 4pm panel on creating memorable characters in role playing games. This turned out to be not so much an opportunity for a few talking heads to share their accumulated wisdom and experience as a great conversation with 30 or 40 friends I hadn't met yet. I love it when that happens. I hope everyone else enjoyed it as much as I did.<br /><br />Saturday night was a blur of parties and friends and good times that ended all too early. And yet, somehow I still didn't get enough sleep. I attended a panel on the new shape of the self-publishing market Sunday morning and spent the rest of the day generally slobbing around the convention. I told anyone who would stop and listen that I was wearing an 'Author' Hall Costume and that my book was my prop. This is the kind of thing I think is funny when I'm seriously sleep-deprived. Sunday night featured yet more parties and yet more hanging out with friends I don't see nearly often enough. The life of a professional author is hard, Dear Reader, but I persevere.<br /><br />I got a late start on Monday (what else is new?) and was moving kind of slowly and a bit wobbly. I recovered in time for my last panel, a literary analysis of the Dark Lord in literature. Most of the audience were aspiring writers and they took a lot of notes and asked a lot of interesting and challenging questions. It was a great panel that really made the best of the format. It might well have been my favorite panel of the entire weekend. After that, there wasn't much to do other than have a celebratory drink with friends and wend my way back home to the Authorcave and back to bed.<br /><br />Next stop Boskone 2012!<br /><br />January 23, 2012<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-84917612470577141222011-12-20T09:34:00.000-08:002011-12-20T10:34:33.886-08:00A Signature DilemmaI thought I was prepared to be an author.<br /><br />I've done the research, I have prepared witty answers to all the popular questions (Where do you get your ideas from? When is your next book coming out? Is this character based on me? Where do you get your ideas from? How does the book end? Will there be sequels? Where do you get your ideas from? and so on) I've steeled myself for the slings and arrows of cruel reviewers (so far, not so cruel!) And I've practiced my signature and limbered up my signing hand. I am so ready. Fame and fortune, here I come!<br /><br />Or so I thought. There are pitfalls that I was not expecting. Pitfall number one? The personalized inscription. How hard could that be, you ask? Good question, Dear Reader, good question. I was unprepared for the pressure that little space on the first page of my novel could bring. Friends, customers, family, all grinning madly at me as they slide my own book towards me. 'Write something clever,' they say. Or 'write something witty, I know how good you are at this.' Or my personal favorite, 'Just write something I'll love!' Something clever, witty, and good that they'll love. And personalized, of course. And different from whatever clever, witty, good and personalized thing I wrote in the last book a few minutes ago. The pressure gets to me after the first fifty or sixty inscriptions. I'm running out of clever and I'm running out fast.<br /><br />Please don't misunderstand; I'm incredibly flattered and pleased that people enjoy my writing and that they expect me to be clever, witty, and so forth! It's all good, and I really love signing and inscribing my books for people. I just wish I were better at it! Now whenever anyone comes at me with one of my books, panic sets in. What if this inscription isn't as good as the last one? What if I start to repeat myself? What if everyone I've signed a book for gets together and compares notes? Inevitably, my brain seizes up and I totally blank out. So I'm holding a pen in my hand and I'm staring at that first page and it's tiny little space for inscriptions. Someone who likes me and/or my book is standing right there, smiling at me, waiting and I'm drawing a complete blank. <br /><br />'To whom shall I make this out?' I ask to stall for time.<br /><br />'I'm your mother; make it out to me,' replies my mother.<br /><br />That stall didn't work so well.<br /><br />The line of smiling people stretches out endlessly behind my mother, all of them holding copies of my book, all of them expecting something original and funny and warm and personal. Or so it goes in my nightmare anyway. I am not ready for this.<br /><br />There are worse problems to have.<br /><br />Meanwhile my life continues to amuse and distract me. If all goes well, tonight will see the first session of a new role playing game campaign. We're trying a Cthulhu thing this time around, so I have failure, insanity, and death to look forward to. No really, it's going to be a good time. Trust me, I'm an author.<br /><br />I've been playing a board game called Stronghold lately. It's a great fantasy board game where one player controls an enormous invasion force of orcs, goblins, and trolls trying to overwhelm a walled city full of good and noble human soldiers. Stronghold has a sort of a tower defense vibe with the human player desperately trying to decide where to spend limited resources as the hordes of bad guys hurl themselves at the walls. The defender has to choose which walls to shore up, whether to invest in boiling oil, better trained soldiers, or a host of other options including praying for some truly impressive miracles. The attacker has a slightly randomized selection of options and the difficult choice of throwing bodies at a single wall section or spreading it around in hopes of overwhelming the defender. So far I'm slightly better at defending than assaulting, which is kind of a shame because my heart will always be with any side that can field trolls.<br /><br />On the book front, I'm enjoying the heck out of Stephen Hunt's 'The Court of the Air.' Hunt has crafted a complicated political intrigue adventure in a fantastical steam punk universe that doesn't forget to offer up plenty of punk alongside the steam.<br /><br />In the world of comics, I'm liking the new Action Comics, Justice League Dark, Secret Avengers, and Dungeons & Dragons. I'm also re-reading the classic (and all too short) run of Chase and the recent run of post-Annihilation Nova. I've loved the human rocket ever since his first appearance back in 1976. So yeah, I'm a fanboy.<br /><br />And now it's time for me to read some classic pulp science fiction to get excited for my next interactive novel. It isn't always easy being me, but it sure is fun! Happy Merry Chrismahannakwanziyulikka everybody!<br /><br />December 20, 2011<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-1850921847981189902011-12-14T14:32:00.001-08:002011-12-14T15:01:05.378-08:00Zero Content TheaterSo it's been a while since I've posted here.<br /><br />When I do something I shouldn't do (which is often) or don't do something I should have done (even more often) there are reasons and there are excuses. We're all familiar with excuses. The dog ate my homework, I'm a little behind at work, I got massively drunk and spent the day hung over ... all perfectly reasonable and understandable excuses for why Stuff Doesn't Get Done (tm and patent pending). Excuses rarely impress anyone, perhaps it's because they actually are so very reasonable and understandable. In real life (a place I prefer to avoid) when things don't get done it's often for really bizarre and unbelievable reasons. My homework stack was so tall it fell over on my dog and I had to drive him to the emergency veterinarian, there was a flood/fire/electrical explosion leading to a fire and a flood at work, and so forth. These are reasons, but they make lousy excuses. And for the record, I have no dog, but if I did, he or she would be fine so please don't worry. And there hasn't been a fire, flood, or electrical explosion at my store in weeks; I'm just being rhetorical and stuff here.<br /><br />My point - and I do have a point around here somewhere (more or less) - is that I haven't been keeping up with the blog thing and I'm hoping that a little bit of artful whimsy will distract all of you lovely people from that sad and glaring fact. How am I doing so far? That bad, huh?<br /><br />It isn't as if there hasn't been plenty of Stuff Going On (tm and patent pending) the big shipment of <a href="http://amzn.to/uElOmk">Monday and the Murdered Man</a> books has arrived, completing two-thirds of the literary hat trick (hard covers are still in process) and making me a very happy author, indeed. Things have been hopping at my game store, <a href="http://www.3trolls.com">3 Trolls Games & Puzzles</a>, and my partners and I are hip-deep in preparation for the big finish of our Firefly-themed Live Action game <a href="http://www.serendipitystation.org/">Serendipity Station</a>.<br /><br />So why haven't I taken the hour or so out of my busy day to keep you, Dear Reader, up to speed on All Things Andy in my uniquely (and allegedly) entertaining fashion? Have I been hard at work on reviewing Once Upon a Time in Tombstone? No. Have I been overwhelmed with the logistical details of first-time publishing? Well, a little bit, yes, but not enough to account for all my time. Have I been laboring in the literary coal mines of the next Monday book? Again, yes, but also again, not all the time.<br /><br />The answer is that I have no answer. No reasons and not even an excuse. Life just gets away from me sometimes. And you know what? That's okay as far as I'm concerned. I give myself permission to blow a few deadlines now and then. It's good for me stress-levels.<br /><br />Not too often, I promise.<br /><br />You'll be hearing from me again soon and next time with actual content!<br /><br />Maybe.<br /><br />Chelmsford<br />December 14, 2011Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-85330516411382719342011-11-18T11:36:00.000-08:002011-11-21T11:48:54.551-08:00A few thoughts on GenrePeople keep asking me about my novel's genre. I'd love to be able to come back with a snappy one word answer that effectively answers their question, but I can't. I think when someone asks the genre question they're asking a lot of different questions all at once. What's it about? Will I like it? What other novels that I have already read and enjoyed is your novel like? And other stuff like that. So when I answer contemporary urban fantasy murder mystery, the response is often, 'Say what now?' I really need to boil that mouthful down to a one or two word version.<br /><br />But that got me thinking about genre in general and I thought maybe instead of answering tough questions, I could just sort of make stuff up. I'm way better at making stuff up, and I bet I can make a passable blog out of that, so let's go with it.<br /><br />When people say genre these days they usually mean anything other than mainstream. It could refer to romance or science fiction or fantasy, or horror, or mystery. Technically mainstream literature is a genre, but in practice it's more like the lack of genre or perhaps just the default. The word genre comes from the French and originally meant 'hard to get published.'<br /><br />One book can fall into more than one genre, for example my own book is both a classic noir mystery and an urban fantasy. The Lord of the Rings is both an epic work of high fantasy and a travelog of Middle-Earth. Believe me when I tell you to skip Mordor when you book that tour. Steampunk is almost always accompanied by another genre. Classic steampunk is often paired with Victoriana, but it can also be found in contemporary fantasy, pulp science fiction or even post-apocalypse adventure. Where ever you find anachronistic technology (often over-sized and baroque as all get out) paired with social inequity, goggles and hats you will find steampunk. It's really more of a style than a genre.<br /><br />Can stories can change genre after they've been published? When Frankenstein was first published it was science fiction (and horror, of course) because folks believed that maybe - just maybe - if you shot enough electricity into a corpse, that sucker would get up and move around again. Now I think it's safe to say that idea has been relegated to fantasy. But does that mean that the novel should likewise be relegated to fantasy? Should we re-shelve Frankenstein? How about billing it as the world's first medical drama? Or should we just call it proto-steampunk and move on?<br /><br />Let's consider Paranormal Romance. Is the paranormal part more important than the romance part? Is dating a bad boy from the wrong side of the grave cooler than dating one from the wrong side of the tracks? Could I write a historical romance novel, replace all the instances of the word pirate with vampire and have a million seller? They both wear pretty much the same kind of floppy shirts, it could totally work. Should I add a pretty-boy vampire to my next book? Should I add steampunk to my next book? Does throwing in elements from another genre change a story? Would it make a book better?<br /><br />For me the answer is not just no, but hell no. When I'm writing in a genre, I want the heart of the story to be intrinsically related to that genre. If I'm writing a fantasy murder mystery than the means, motive, and opportunity all have to have fantasy elements. If they don't I'm just re-skinning a story using genre elements. There are reasons to do that and I might do it some day but not today. Tomorrow's not looking so good either. Is the genre the story or merely the way the story is told? How many stories can be translated into an entirely different genre without changing the essential elements of that story? <br /><br />These are the things I think about late at night when other people are thinking about that last slice of pie in the refrigerator. It's just as well, I could stand to lose a few pounds.<br /><br />Chelmsford, MA<br />November 21, 2011Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-30967251443753266052011-11-15T20:38:00.000-08:002011-11-16T15:29:30.878-08:00My plot for World Domination.This is the part where I get to be a super-villain.<br /><br />Not the kidnap Aunt Petunia type of super-villain, but rather the fly over Manhattan on a zeppelin and hold the entire island hostage type. We're talking your typical masked megalomaniac here; you know the type. Why do I get to become a monolog-spouting, world-conquering masked menace? It's simple, I write contemporary fantasy.<br /><br />Moo hah ha!<br /><br />Not seeing it? Make yourself comfortable inside my slow but insidious death trap and let me explain ... because I believe that only someone like you could understand how someone such as myself came to be. Before I kill you, Dear Reader, I shall explain my nefarious plan ...!<br /><br />I write contemporary fantasy and that means I get to translate any aspect of real life I want into my own little fictional world. I can re-write history any way I please. I can replace science with magic and coincidence with destiny. That last part is important because it means that I can change history in my fantasy world as long as it always makes dramatic sense. Even senseless tragedy or meaningless coincidence can be used as story-telling elements that eventually lead to good pacing and drama.<br /><br />Like when the innocent little girl loses her family and her home and is forced to lead a life of deprivation, but whose wholesomeness and plucky inner strength lead her to greatness - or in some cases a really terrific boy friend. Or like when the villain shoots his gun right before the fight scene starts, knocking over an oil lamp and starting a fire. During the fight, the fire grows and grows as the combatants ignore it completely. After sufficient thrilling action ensues, the fire causes a beam to fall down, clonk the bad guy on the head but leave the good guy completely unharmed. For bonus points the good guy then saves the bad guy's life by dragging him out. No one will mind that I totally <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deus_ex_machina">Deus ex Machina'd</a> the end of the fight because the meaningless coincidence was given meaning. After all, the bad guy did start the fire, right?<br /><br />I won't need to do a lot of research when I change history because it's an alternate world and any number of things could have gone differently. I'm describing a world where magic is commonplace, it should be easy enough to slide in some wild historical inaccuracies. So long as all my changes make good dramatic sense and support my story, no Literature Professor in the world would prosecute me. Or so goes my plan. Only time will tell.<br /><br />I am pondering such thoughts as I celebrate E-Day. Yes, E-Day! From this day forward, I will mark November 14th as the day my novel became publicly available as an e-book, thus E-Day. This is the day I will completely forget about each and every year, only noticing a week or so after and saying to myself, 'Damn, I missed E-Day again. I really should celebrate next year.' Where ever my writing and publishing career goes from here, this will be the day it officially began.<br /><br />It's good to have official beginnings. Actual beginnings are usually pretty murky and notoriously hard to pin down. Did Monday and the Murdered Man begin when I decided to publish it in August 2011 or when I sat down to write it in January of 2009? Or when I first thought of the Murdered Man and his unusual request while writing for a live action campaign called <a href="http://www.threadsofdamocles.org/">Threads of Damocles</a>. How about when I first named a character Zack Monday back in college? This is why I'm happy to have an official date that can be easily written down and subsequently forgotten.<br /><br />Publishing my own book puts me in some very distinguished company, both historically and today. I'm certain there are <a href="http://timerime.com/en/timeline/21769/The+History+of+Publishing/%22">lots</a> of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Publishing">webpages</a> that can tell you the true history of publishing, but in the spirit of being a history altering super-villain who can make up his own history as long as it's entertaining, I'm going to say the history of publishing goes like this:<br /><br />In the Beginning God Self-Published the Universe. Or maybe there was a Big Bang, I wasn't there, I don't know. Either way it certainly wasn't a traditional publication so I'm going to go with God being an independent.<br /><br />Later on the Renaissance happened and steampunk was invented, and shortly after that enormous steam and electric-powered typewriters that were so big you had to use ten servants to hit all the keys (and the two guys at the back only got to fight over who hits the space bar). And so DaVinci's Legendary Lost 13th Notebook becomes the next noteworthy historical publication.<br /><br />At this point the gag is getting old so there's a rock-music montage of a bunch of literary images that brings us to the present day. Because I skipped over a lot of the details I can go back later and add stuff without contradicting myself. Again the only rule is that whenever I mold history to my whim it has to be cool.<br /><br />So I don't get to do this in real life, but I can do it all I want in my books. Zack Monday's Fifth World is a lot like our own on the surface, but I can dip below that surface anytime I want (or at least I can anytime it serves the story) and bring up some bizarre and cool difference between our two worlds. And I can change history to do it. I can say that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newton_v._Leibniz_calculus_controversy">Gottfried von Leibniz</a> and <a href="http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1265/who-or-what-are-fig-newton-cookies-named-after%22">Isaac Newton</a> were the heads of rival magical societies involved in a shadow war to control all of reality and that's why traditional publishing houses first came into existence in 1719 when Leibniz died. After that moment and for the next 300 years all who published without the help of a traditional publishing house were doomed to failure. Only the invention of the automatic printing press in the year 2,000 could finally break the curse.<br /><br />So yeah.<br /><br />That's how I would say the History of Publishing went if I were a time-warping, reality-controlling super-villain.<br /><br />And also I would have made E-Day fall on 11/11/11, because that would have been so much cooler.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-48235285176739483322011-11-03T13:18:00.000-07:002011-11-07T07:42:17.955-08:00My Problem With Reality<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I've never been very good at real life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That's probably not a huge shock for most of the people who've met me, but please let me elaborate. My problem with real life is simple: it's not very well written. Everyone knows what makes up a good story. You want a catchy opening to grab your attention, interesting characters that are introduced logically and who get development and arc as the plot moves forward, some solid structure a little bit of foreshadowing, and a satisfying well-constructed conclusion that ties up all the loose ends and makes some kind of sense. That doesn't seem like too much to ask, does it? We expect it from our entertainment and we cry foul if we don't get it. Unless we're talking about foreign film, but that's a topic for another day (much like my review of Once Upon a Time in Tombstone).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But real life hardly ever works that way. We're expected to figure out what's going on without any flashbacks or exposition or narration. The characters are either unmemorable or unbelievable and there's no satisfying resolution to any of the ongoing plots. I'd say it's like one of those night-time drama soap operas, but even they have some structure to them. Heck, even so-called Reality TV has a better plot than actual reality does. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And let's talk about pacing. In any decent story - be it television, movie, novel, or campfire tale - the action is spread around so there aren't long boring stretches followed by everything happening all at once. Once again real life steadfastly refuses to follow even the most basic rules of story development and structure. Reality is also filled with fiddly little details and long passages of time where absolutely nothing interesting happens. This is the kind of stuff that any good story totally glosses over. I'm not necessarily saying this is a bad thing it's just how real life differs from a good story.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Despite all the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=1996941243238400251&postID=4823528517673948332" org="" wiki="">Chekov's Guns</a> that go unfired and all the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=1996941243238400251&postID=4823528517673948332" org="" wiki="">Occam's Razors </a> that never get to shave their conclusions down in real life, I'm still stuck with it until something better comes along. That's why I like to take little vacations from reality by playing games (where balance and mechanics often over rule petty concerns like realism and accuracy), reading, and writing. Real life does have the advantage of surprise; unpredictability is hard to predict after all.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In other, completely unrelated parts of real life, I'd like to give a shout out to a great web page that my real life cousins have put together. If you're so inclined, click on over to <a href="http://www.despiteeverythingobama2012.com/index.htm"> Despite Everything Obama</a>. Warning: Contains Politics.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Speaking of real life, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family:arial;" >Monday and the Murdered Man</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> lurches zombie-like ever closer to publication. If all goes well and no one shoots it (or me) in the head, I will have some cover art to show soon. If other parts of all go equally well, the upgrade for the Verdigris interactive steampunk novel will be available at <a href="http://itunes.com/apps/verdigris"> iTunes</a> by the time you're reading this. We added two new storylines, a bunch of new locations and simply hundreds of new screens of material. If you've already bought the original Verdigris, the upgrade is free. If you haven't gotten it yet, it will set you back a mere 99 cents.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Addendum</span>: Things didn't go well, but at least no one has been shot. Yet. Why isn't anything ever as easy as it's supposed to be? In theory, all we had to do was upload the new Verdigris build and have a sandwich. Guess what? You guessed it: Real life strikes again. This game has been so tricky, I'm beginning to think I should have cribbed from MacBeth instead of Hamlet. The first time we planned to do the update (a few months ago, my partner João had to go on a series of business trips. This was a good thing at the time, because it meant his day job was actually going well, but it put things off. We had planned to do the build and load out last weekend, but Mother Nature intervened in the form a 4 and 1/2 day power outage. (Believe me Dear Reader when I tell you that heat and light are good things to have.)<br /><br />And that brings us to today wherein the our code seems to have chosen to redefine how parentheses work. Or something like that. I leave the programming details to my partner; I'm just the word monkey. A couple of hours of multilingual cursing later and much talk about partially versus fully formed expressions, what the aforementioned expressions can and can't see, and something about the correct binding of tokens, things were back where they used to be ... I hope. Maybe we can publish the update tomorrow. Sometimes reality sucks more than others.<br /><br />Stay tuned for further developments.<br /><br />November 6th, 2011<br />Chelmsford, MA<br /></span><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-75395467805916797522011-10-27T08:16:00.000-07:002011-10-27T10:25:22.577-07:00It's all about TimingAs I stare down the barrel of the season's first snow, I find myself - to paraphrase <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Lehrer">Tom Lehrer</a> - waxing philosophical while I wane sensical. Looking back on the weekend that just passed, everything went well. I and a group of friends ran a session of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Serendipity Station</span> live action game and then the next day I got to play in <span style="font-style: italic;">A Dance of Flame and Shadow</span>, an old school vampire game. By old school I mean that it harkened back to the live action games of the late 90's, so maybe the school isn't all that old.<br /><br />I was struck by the structural differences between the two games. Having recently attended a weekend-long game (<span style="font-style: italic;">Once Upon a Time in Tombstone</span>), a six hour-long game (<span style="font-style: italic;">Serendipity Station Game 5</span>) and a four hour-long game (<span style="font-style: italic;">A Dance of Flame and Shadow</span>), I'm in a good position to observe the differences between the three different forms.<br /><br />In any role playing game, there is only so much game to go around. Whether you're talking about secrets to be discovered, interactions to had, puzzles to be solved, rituals to be performed, combat to be resolved, or any of the other myriad things that happen in a live action game, the most important thing is pacing. If all of your game gets burned through in the first quarter, you're going to have a whole pile of bored and grumpy players. But is it just as bad to have three quarters of the game all happen right at the end? There's nothing wrong with an exciting and dramatic climax, but if there's too much going on, players will feel rushed, confused, and yes, grumpy. Deciding how a game should be paced is a good start, but actually adhering to that pace during run-time is the brass ring. How to pace a game is a hotly contested challenge.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Once Upon a Time in Tombstone</span> did it with a combination of lengthy and intricate character sheets, a moratorium on character death for most of the game, and regularly scheduled events. I think the writers also relied on the players having a sense of timing, drama, and fair-play inspired by the movies the game was based on. Most players won't want to have a big showdown with their arch-enemy first thing Saturday morning when they know that there will be a day and a half of game to play afterwards.<br /><br />I've played in some great games that featured a steady trickle of information over the course of the game, sort of a serialized character sheet. This works particularly well in amnesia or other limited information games where that sort of thing makes sense in game as well as mechanically.<br /><br />In <span style="font-style: italic;">Serendipity Station</span> we employ a number of tools to control pacing. Our go-to method is something often referred to as a Social Puzzle. That's where one or more characters in the game know something that another character must discover in order to move forward with their own plots. This challenge has multiple levels. In some cases, the players (and their characters) don't know who has the information they need, so some time must be spent identifying who to speak to. An additional layer comes in to play when the characters with the information have reasons not to share it immediately or even at all. A well-written Social Puzzle will give the player the proper tools to eventually gain the information they need to move on. Examples include blackmail, fair trade, intimidation, or a mid-game paradigm shift that removes the original reason not to share.<br /><br />We also had major in game information reveals that we hoped would spread through the gossip engine that most on-going campaign games enjoy. Since that information gave the players the tools they needed to resolve some major long-term plots we were confident that the information would get where it needed to go in reasonably good time. This is a risk because some players hoard information no matter how badly it hurts them, but we know our players pretty well at this point and we try to have at least three different sources for anything really important. We also had new characters enter game space at the half-way point and a half hour before game wrap with vital new information. That isn't always an option but when it is it can be a writer's best friend.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A Dance of Flame and Shadow</span> used in game intelligence gathering methods (in my character's case, talking to rats), Social Puzzles, and escalating villainy to move the action and the plot inexorably forward to a series of rapid-fire climaxes and combats. I enjoyed the bulk of these combats from a nice comfortable laying down position as my character was a bit out of his depth in a fight and got hammered flat pretty quickly.<br /><br />Pacing a live action or a tabletop role playing game isn't all that different from pacing a novel or a movie, but the writer has completely different tools, advantages, and limitations to make that pacing happen. In the end, the goal is the same: entertaining the audience. The main difference is how much absolute control versus collaboration the creators have in each project. From effectively complete control with a novel all the way down to the 'fire and forget' of an improvisational live action game, each level brings new challenges and rewards. Seeing what extreme wackiness players get up to with the pretexts and situations you have written for them is one of the great rewards of writing and running live action games.<br /><br />But I'm still working on that timing thing.<br /><br />October 27th, 2011<br />Chelmsford, MAAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-6112496991172111302011-10-19T10:52:00.000-07:002011-10-19T12:51:37.526-07:00A tree grows in ChelmsfordDear Reader,<br /><br />As is rapidly becoming usual, I am once again not writing about Once Upon a Time in Tombstone. (which truly was a great game, honest!) No, today I am writing about the founding of an independent publishing company, my independent publishing company. Cherrytree Publishing, future home of <u>Monday and the Murdered Man</u>, <u>Monday and the Apocalypse Engine</u>, and <u>Monday and the Clockwork Corpse</u>. Yeah, I've got a theme going but it's working for me so far.<br /><br />For those Dear Readers who don't know what is involved in the establishment of a publishing company, the following description will very likely be absolutely no help whatsoever. Sorry folks, but that's just the way I roll.<br /><br />Yo.<br /><br />Yes, that's right, I'm pretty 'Street,' now.<br /><br />So my first stop on the bureaucratic odyssey was my local banking establishment. Everyone was very nice and helpful and we got my accounts mostly set up, but since it was to be a business account, we couldn't finish without a few simple details. Simple in theory, but not so much in practice. I was informed that I needed to register as a business at the local town offices. 'Okay, that sounds easy enough,' I thought. 'I'm a townie, I should be able to handle this.'<br /><br />I hop back into the author-mobile and scoot across town to the local town offices. So far, so good. I was pleasantly surprised at how well-labeled and organized the offices were; it took me no time at all to find the town clerk and slide into line behind all the other confused folks on their own bureaucratic odysseys. When it was my turn, I told the nice lady behind the counter what I wanted and she told me I had to go ... Downstairs. (cue: ominous music!)<br /><br />Downstairs was everything I had been afraid of, narrow labyrinthine corridors with dozens of closed and cryptically labeled doors. I wandered aimlessly until I found a group of people waiting outside one particular closed and cryptically labeled door. I figured this many people couldn't be entirely wrong, strength in numbers, <span style="font-style: italic;">et cetera, et cetera</span>. So I decided to get in line behind them. Eventually, it was my turn and I explained to the nice man behind the counter what I wanted and he told me - believe it or not, no word of a lie, that I had to go upstairs. Sometimes this blog just writes itself.<br /><br />It turned out that the guy downstairs was the first person I needed to talk to, but I needed a form from upstairs first. I went upstairs, waited in another line, got the form I needed, went back ... Downstairs, got back into line #2 to talk to the guy who needed the form, filled out the form and got told by the guy that I needed to get it notarized and then give it back to the lady upstairs that I had gotten it from in the first place.<br /><br />Notarized, check.<br /><br />'Can I get that notarized somewhere in this building?' I ask.<br /><br />'Nope,' the guy replies, 'new legislation says we can't do any notarizing.'<br /><br />Somehow, I am not surprised. I ask where I can get the document notarized. The downstairs guy replies ... wait for it ... at the local banking establishment. I should have seen that one coming, in retrospect. It actually all made sense from a story perspective. And people ask where I get my ideas from.<br /><br />I hop back into the author-mobile and scoot across town back to the local banking establishment. Everyone is pleasantly surprised to see me again so soon. 'So soon?' I ask. 'It feels like it's been weeks since I was here last.' The precious document is swiftly and duly notarized and I motor on back across town to the town offices. I slide back into the very first line and wait for one last time and I am in business. Cherrytree Publishing is born.<br /><br />Huzzah.<br /><br />I wonder what tomorrow will bring.<br /><br />Today's distraction: <a href="http://nodwick.humor.gamespy.com/ps238/comics/index.php?date=2001-11-29">Ps238 Online!</a> Read Aaron Williams' spectacularly funny, well-written, well-plotted and well-drawn comic about young super beings, their school, their teachers, parents, and adventures. I can't recommend this one highly enough.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-45143964336971650612011-10-16T16:36:00.000-07:002011-10-17T13:26:54.062-07:00The Art of Procrastination<style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } A:link { so-language: zxx } --> </style> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Things I should be doing right now:</p> <ul><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">A video project for <a href="http://www.serendipitystation.org/">www.SerendipityStation.org</a></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Working on <i>Monday and the Apocalypse Engine</i></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Paying bills, filing paperwork, reading catalogs, etc. at <a href="http://www.3trolls.com/">www.3trolls.com</a></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Filling out the post-game report from “Once Upon a Time in Tombstone”</p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Writing a blog about “Once Upon a Time in Tombstone”</p> </li></ul> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Things I am doing right now:</p> <ul><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Reading web comics</span></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Cruising the internet for totally awesome and cool things</span></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Eating</span></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Watching old episodes of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Adventures_of_Brisco_County,_Jr"> The Adventures of Briscoe Country, Jr. </a> </span></p> </li><li><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Writing a blog about procrastination</span></p> </li></ul> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal">As you can see, my stats don't look so good. For me, being productive is the art and science of tricking myself into blowing off one project by doing another. Most of my major life successes have been achieved at the expense of whatever it is I was supposed to be doing at the time. In fact, I wrote most of </span><i>Monday and the Murdered Man</i><span style="font-style: normal"> while I was supposed to be writing an entirely different novel, not to mention a live action game. I seem to need a 'straw project' to ignore while I do something else. If I only have one thing I'm meant to be doing, nothing gets done. Kids, don't try this at home. I'm a professional.</span><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The good news is one of the totally awesome and cool things I found was my good buddy Dog doing something mind numbingly geeky and yes, totally awesome and cool. After you're done reading this, pop on over to his tumblr page and listen to him sing from The Canterbury Tales (in Middle English, naturally) to the tune of Billy Joel's “The Longest Time.”</p><span style="font-style: normal"></span> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Between Dog and Bruce Campbell, I might well have my hands full. <span style="font-style: normal">Sadly, having multiple projects on my metaphorical plate doesn't seem to result in more than one thing getting done at at time. And that's a shame, really. Given the length of my average to-do list, I should be the most productive guy on the planet. I am not. In fact, working with me can be awfully frustrating for more traditionally productive types. I generally meet my deadlines, but not with much space to wiggle around in. Douglas Adams once wrote, "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they go by." I don't know if I actually love deadlines, as such, but I do seem to need them if I'm ever going to get anything done.</span><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal">Perhaps I need the 'juice' that comes from impending deadline doom. Perhaps I need the threat of imminent failure. Maybe I'm just lazy. Whatever the reason, I've had the most success when large groups of friends (many of whom own swords) are eagerly awaiting whatever it is I've promised to produce.</span><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">So fear not, friends, readers, and random internet browsers, all of the things on my list will eventually happen. Some of them may even happen tonight. But right now I'm doing this thing right here, and it seems to be going pretty well. Which is more than I can say for Bruce Campbell over in The Adventures of Briscoe County, Jr., he seems to be in a bit of trouble right now. Oh, and here's the <a href="http://inurashii.tumblr.com/post/11535058354/sorcyress-said-dude-if-you-are-still-taking">link </a> to Dog's tumblr:</span> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal"></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><span style="font-style: normal">Chelmsford, MA<br />October 15, 2011</span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-78553796686226459812011-10-15T08:05:00.000-07:002011-10-15T08:10:24.438-07:00Unexpectedly Harrowing and Accidentally EpicGreetings Dear Reader and welcome to the second installment of an ongoing and poorly organized tour of my brain.<br /><br />I had intended this to be an entertaining and informative recap of my weekend adventures in Hagerstown, MD where I was fortunate enough to participate in “Once Upon a Time in Tombstone,” a weekend-long live action roleplaying game set in the wild American West. However, to quote <i>Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip</i><span style="font-style: normal">, “This is not the comedy we intended to do when the week began.”</span><br /><br />No, that tale shall have to wait. Instead, I present the unexpectedly harrowing and accidentally epic story of how I and my boon companion and federal crime-fighter (hereafter referred to as Federal Crime-Fighter) traveled back and forth across the Eastern Seaboard in four different cars and countless different states. No human beings were harmed, injured, or oppressed during the making of this adventure. Sadly, the same cannot be said about cars.<br /><br />The trip began innocently enough. My good friend the Federal Crime-Fighter suggested that we travel to the game together. She lives in Connecticut, which – I am reliably informed – is closer to Maryland than my own beloved Commonwealth of Massachusetts, so I piled myself and an inordinate amount of Western-style clothing into my faithful author-mobile and trucked on down to meet her at her Crime-Fighting Cave. We put my inordinate pile of Western-style clothing on top of her pile, clambered into her faithful crime-fighting-mobile and we were off. (Noted for the record, the faithful crime-fighting-mobile is her off duty car and not an Official Government Vehicle. Had an actual Official Government Vehicle been used, things might have been much, much more complicated.) For the first several hours of our trip, all went well. The conversation was agreeable and occasionally witty; the traffic was relatively light and so were our hearts and minds.<br /><br />We decided to take a short rest break in Berndardsville, NJ. The town was chosen because my good friend the Federal Crime-Fighter (hereafter referred to as The Fed, because this is just getting way too long) has relatives nearby. It turns out that I do too, but that isn't relevant to the story, merely a point of trivial interest for the hard-core Andy Kirschbaum fans out there. We were cruising along Rte. 202 in Bernardsville at a comfortable clip when things went downhill rapidly. I shall not relate the details of The Incident; suffice to say that it was brief, highly impact-full, and turned the crime-fighting-mobile from a well-maintained, finely-tuned engine of cross-continental travel into a decoratively-crumpled Go-Kart inclined to fly apart in a stiff breeze or at the first indications of a sharp left turn. I hasten once again to assure you, Dear Reader, that no human beings were harmed, injured, or oppressed during The Incident. We were, however, mildly surprised to find ourselves standing on the side of Rte. 202 in Bernardsville, NJ awaiting the arrival of the local authorities. The nice lady driving what we shall call, for technical purposes, The Other Car was quite friendly and helpful as we exchanged pleasantries and vital statistics.<br /><br />In short order, Officer Friendly of the Bernardsville, NJ police department showed up. Now, I will admit that I have been known to apply the occasional sarcastic nickname to the people I encounter in my travels, but absolutely no sarcasm is intended in this case. Officer Friendly of the Bernardsville, NJ police department was efficient, polite, helpful, and – yes, friendly. Based on the reactions, attitudes, and sudden swooning from every female in the immediate vicinity, I also gathered that Officer Friendly was quite the hunk. I often miss small details like this. As an author and literary specialist, it is possible that my mind is too keenly focused to notice such things. Another small detail that had escaped my keen literary notice was pointed out by Officer Friendly when he examined my ID. Apparently, my license to operate a motor vehicle had expired slightly over a month ago. Yes, Dear Reader, it was shaping up to be One of Those Trips.<br /><br />After everything was as sorted out as it was likely to get, Officer Friendly bid us and the lady in The Other Car a fond farewell and we GPSed up the location of the nearest Insurance-Approved body shop. We found one that was supposedly a mere 11 miles away, as the crow flies. How, we wondered, did people do this before Smart Phones and GPS devices? We limped the poor wounded crime-fighting-mobile to the aforementioned Insurance-Approved body shop. And believe me when I tell you this was a harrowing and hazard-light filled trip. The supposedly mere 11 mile trip turned out to include a stint on the highway and far more than 11 miles on twisty back roads. Both of us held our breath and sat quite still, fearing any excess movement might cause our vehicle to explode apart into chrome and tinsel. It didn't. After turning around and backtracking once or twice (the GPS may well have known where it was going, but we didn't) we safely arrived at the body shop.<br /><br />Paperwork was filled out and heels were cooled while we waited for the nice people from the not-so-nearby rental car company to come and get us. We were instructed, warned, and admonished not to forget anything in the car when we left. We politely tolerated these thoughtful words. Surely we would not be so foolish as to leave anything behind? Surely not. (Note for the record, this confidence will come back to bite us in a future episode of this very blog.) Eventually, the nice people from the not-so-nearby rental car company arrive with our car. They assure us, that this was the only available car and if we truly wanted to make it to Maryland tonight, this was our only way.<br /><br />Believe me Dear Reader when I tell you that this 'car' was one good meal away from being a school bus. If we could have lifted it, we could have easily tucked the original crime-fighting-mobile inside and still had room for both passengers, all of our piles of inordinate Western-style clothing and perhaps a mid-sized nuclear family in the back seat. I'm saying this car was big. But it was also the only car available. Also, because of my embarrassing license situation, the Fed was the only driver available. Given our options, we took the car and returned to our journey. And so it came to pass, a mere 4 hours after we stopped off the road for a quick rest stop and sanitary break, we finally made it back onto the road and continued our trip, somewhat worse for the wear.<br /><br />A few blessedly uneventful hours later, we approach our destination. The Fed asks me to call a soon-to-be local costume shop to see if they will be open tomorrow (Saturday) morning so she can pick up a wig for her costume. She knows the name of the store she's looking for and with a little bit of Web-Fu, I manage to track down a phone number. We once again wonder how these things were done in the days before Smart Phones and GPS devices. I call the number and a pleasant-sounding gentleman answers the phone, but not with the name of the costume store I thought I was calling. I ask if I have reached the number to whom I am speaking. I am informed that I have. I ask about their Saturday morning hours. I am informed that the costume store has gone out of business. I am sympathetic, but ask if there is another local store where I might be able to get a wig tomorrow morning. The gentleman asks me if I am looking for a wig for my wife. I respond that the wig is for a lady. This is, apparently insufficient information, so the gentleman once again asks – as if, perhaps, he had misheard me – “Is this wig for your wife?” I glance over at my good friend the Federal Crime-Fighter and decide that some battles are simply not worth fighting over the phone. “Yes,” I reply. “Yes, it is.”<span style="font-style: normal"><br /><br />With the honor of the wig business upheld, the gentleman gave me the address of another costume shop and we were able to arrive at the hotel without further comedy. Even though the game had already begun by the time we dragged ourselves down, several friends broke character to wish us well and greet us. I amiably explained, that my horse had broken down outside of town and we had to get a replacement rental horse. The Fed explained, to those who asked, that "there was a problem with the wagon," and that some complicated repairs were necessary outside of town, and that at least no one died of dysentery, and that hopefully, soon enough, all would be well to raft down the Dalles. The Fed it seems is a big fan of “Oregon Trail.” Eventually, the two of us got into costume and into character and managed to have a lovely evening in Tombstone of the 1880's. The next morning, while I got into a showdown with my coffee, the Fed went off to trade in our enormous rental bus for something smaller (and cheaper!) and purchase the aforementioned wig of honor. I am pleased to report that she was successful in both endeavors.</span><br /><br />Stay tuned to this web page for the game report and the (much less exciting) story of our return trip (and my adventures at the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles...) <p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal"><span style="font-style: normal">October 13</span><sup><span style="font-style: normal">th</span></sup><span style="font-style: normal">, 2011</span><br />Chelmsford, MA (and various points South)</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1996941243238400251.post-85638252526830575802011-10-12T13:31:00.000-07:002011-10-12T13:37:45.145-07:00Who he is and how he came to be!Hello and welcome to a ongoing and poorly organized tour of my brain.<br /><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Who am I?<br /><br />My name is Andy Kirschbaum and I'm a novelist, game store owner, LARP writer and general nerd-about-town. You can find my store at <a href="http://www.3trolls.com/" target="_blank">www.3trolls.com</a> or in lovely downtown Chelmsford, Massachusetts. Most days you can find me there, too, if you're interested in meeting me in person. Confidentially, I'm much more interesting over the internet, also taller.</p><br />When I'm not writing novels or goofing off, I'm writing LARPs. LARP is a very silly acronym for Live Action Role Playing game. Which basically means dressing up, walking and talking while you're playing role playing games. It's great fun and absorbs all of my spare time, money and sanity. I'm currently involved in two live action role playing games, <a href="http://www.serendipitystation.org/" target="_blank">www.SerendipityStation.org</a> which is an ongoing campaign and Feast of the Minotaur which is scheduled to run at <a href="http://www.interactiveliterature.org/L/" target="_blank">http://www.interactiveliterature.org/L/</a>. I'm collaborating on both projects with other very talented creators and I'm lucky to be able to work with them.<br /><br />I'm currently in the process of publishing my first novel, <i>Monday and the Murdered Man</i>. My previously published interactive story, <i>Verdigris</i>, is available from the Apple iTune store. <a href="http://www.verdigris-tales.com/" target="_blank">http://www.verdigris-tales.com/</a>. I also just wrapped up a successful project at <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/" target="_blank">www.kickstarter.com</a> to fund a print run of <i>Monday and the Murdered Man</i>. If you come to this blog by way of any of those links, welcome! If you just happened along, you're <span style="background: transparent">even more </span>welcome! I'm glad to have you along and reading.<br /><br />While I will talk a lot about the writing and publishing process in this blog, it's not going to be my primary subject. There are lots and lots of fantastic blogs that already cover these subjects in depth, and I'll certainly be talking about some of my favorites going forward. (<a href="http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/">http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/</a> is a must-read for all aspiring author/publishers) I'll also be talking about board games and role playing games that catch my fancy, as well as other diversions I enjoy ranging from television, movies, coffee, books, comics, web comics and anything shiny that catches my eye. And yes, I will occasionally talk about politics, but not too often. Hopefully, there will be something of interest for everyone who stops by. Please feel free to suggest topics for consideration; I don't promise anything, but sooner or later, I'm going to run out of things to say and believe me when I say, I'll be grateful for the suggestions then!<br /><br />Because I'm largely self-absorbed and more than a little bit egotistical, I'll be talking about what I'm currently up to in any given week. As often as not, that will amount to a lot of goofing off. I'll also talk about what I should be doing instead of goofing off, just for the record.<br /><br />Speaking of goofing off, I recently discovered a really cool web comic called 'The Bean.' You can find it at <a href="http://www.beanleafpress.com/" target="_blank">www.beanleafpress.com</a> and decide for yourself how cool it is. Writer/Artist Travis Hanson has a very clean style. His use of negative space and creative borders is as visually appealing as the story itself, and I love the little lizards and faces carved into rocks that accumulate in the corners of panels. It's a fantasy epic, by the way, so be prepared for a long haul. You won't find daily punchlines or quick story resolution, but you will find interesting characters that develop slowly and a well-developed world with a past and a future.<br /><br />Speaking of what I should be doing instead of goofing off, my writing partners and I are in the final stages of preparation for the October 22nd run of Serendipity Station. The tricky part of writing a game with multiple authors is continuity. We try to get the primary writing done a month before game run so we can go over everything with a fine-tooth comb and find where we contradict ourselves. We're in the continuity stage of things right now and it can be challenging having to re-write things that were 'put to bed' days or weeks ago. We've done this 4 times so far and I think each game has been better than the one before. Live action gaming is an ephemeral art. It's a collaboration between the writers and the players and when it's over it's gone and lives only in our memories. Is it worth all the time and effort and expense? I think so, but you'd have to ask my players, or perhaps my co-writers.<br /><br />In novel news, now that the Kickstarter project is complete (yay!) I'm reaching out to a small army of professionals to design the physical book, the electronic book (multiple versions), web site, and what-have-you. The hunt for a cover artist continues, as does my stressing over which printer to use. There are so many tiny little decisions to make. When I was a wee tyke dreaming of being a published author some far-off day, I never dreamed about which fonts looked good together or worrying about white or cream-colored paper. Reality is so much more complicated than fantasy. <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">October 1, 2011<br />Chelmsford, MA</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13456903930393597066noreply@blogger.com0