Gotta Love This Guy

Never one to disappoint, my pal Chris Weedin of Horror Rules fame sent me this email earlier this week. I told you he was sensitive about his game.

"By the way, I very much enjoyed your post-Dragonflight report, it was a good laugh. And I think... wait a minute... coming up for a "visit," are you!?!? HA! HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID!!! YOU'RE SO TRANSPARENT, UNDERHILL!! YOU'RE JUST COMING UP HERE TO SEE HER, AREN'T YOU!!!! YOUR "BELOVED"!!!!! WELL YOU CAN JUST KISS MY ^&*%$! YOU BOOK-HUGGING FREAK!!! I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE, SHE'S MINE!! MIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

I wonder if he needs to stop writing horror adventures or just cut back on the caffiene...

GURPS WWII: All the King's Men Playtest Status Report

The KM playtest started yesterday; roughly 24 hours ago.

Current status: 327 messages. That's about 20,000 words of commentary and criticism, and one attaboy from Katherine Keirns (Thanks, Kit!) or approximately 80 pages of text (in 12-point Times in MS Word) if you include the message headers.

All in one day.

I love my job. Really.

"So what do you do all day?"

For those of you that don't get the pleasure of seeing me sitting at my laptop at the local Burgerville, grumbling, frowning, cursing, and drinking way too much Coke, here's a glimpse into my life:

Tuesday, August 26, 2003
8:00 a.m.: Wake up, cursing KLPU for playing something jazzy on clock radio #1.
8:00-8:30 a.m.: Hit snooze an inderminate number of times.
8:30 a.m.: Rouse, wondering why KLPU is playing Billy Joel's Uptown Girl instead of something jazzy.
8:31 a.m.: Realize it's clock radio #2, playing KLOG. Hit snooze.
8:42 a.m.: Grumble at the sounds of something jazzy playing out of synch with something oldies.
8:43 a.m.: Hit snooze on both alarms. Consider getting up.
8:52 a.m.: Savage both alarm clocks for playing two different types of music again. Shut off both alarms.
8:53 a.m.: Turn on computer. Start Up file plays WAKEUP.ASX, a Windows Media playlist of MP3s. Lay back down.
8:54 a.m.: Try to sleep through Shania Twain's Rock This Country. Fail.
8:58 a.m.: Try to sleep through No Doubt's Hey Baby. Fail.
9:00 a.m.: Get up.
9:00-11:15 a.m.: Deal with 14 SWAT playtest comments and 36 emails. Try to figure out why so many people think I need an online pharmacy and a bigger penis. Fail.
11:16 a.m.: Pull on running shorts, t-shirt, and a Cleveland Indians ballcap. Head for the door.
11:16-11:30 a.m.: Stretch, warmup, walk, start run.
11:30 a.m.: Answer cell phone, ringing in the pocket of my sweat shorts.
11:31-11:35 a.m.: Make arrangements for lunch with Officer Doug "Taz" Monge, hostage negotiator, Longview Tactical Response Team, all the while trying to explain why I'm breathing so hard in his ear.
11:36 a.m.: Cut short morning run, head home.
11:40-11:55 a.m.: Shower, shave, and shine. Head to Burgerville to meet Taz. Listen to The Charlie Daniels Band's Greatest Hits CD en route.
12:00 noon: Set up laptop, order a spicy black bean Gardenburger meal. Grumble at the $6.50 it costs me.
12:05-12:10: Pick at my fries while going over the Negotiation section of GURPS SWAT, trying to get my thoughts lined up before Taz arrives. Fail.
12:10 p.m.: Taz arrives.
12:11-1:00 p.m.: Visit with Taz about negotiation techniques, the local entry team, his recent trip to Chicago, and other topics. Find out that the local team now has EMTs training with them for SWAT incidents.
1:01 p.m.: Walk Taz to the Burgerville door; make plans for a ride-along in a week or two.
1:02 p.m.: While walking back to my table, notice two white-shirted fireman-looking guys eating lunch. Remember Taz's comment about EMTs and SWAT. Try to think of a good reason not to pester the two white-shirted guys. Fail.
1:03-1:15 p.m.: Talk with the fire chiefs (formerly "white-shirted guys," see above) about the EMTs. Find out one of them (Dave LaFave) is the chief of the district that's sponsoring the EMTs. Get phone number for the dayroom at the firehouse and permission to name drop.
1:16-1:25 p.m.: Try to decide if I should call the EMT/SWAT guy or not. Vacillate for nine minutes, wasting said time.
1:26-1:30 p.m.: Go outside to avoid the noise, call the dayroom of Cowlitz 2 Fire and Rescue. Talk to someone named John. Leave a message for the EMT/SWAT guy.
1:31-2:00 p.m.: Visit with my sister, who pops into Burgerville during her lunch break.
2:01-2:30 p.m.: Work on final draft of GURPS SWAT until I notice I'm missing info about the Longview team's weapons.
2:31 p.m.: Call Sergeant Koll Mykelbust, Team Leader of the Longview TRT. Leave voice mail.
2:32-3:00 p.m.: Work on final draft of GURPS SWAT until cell phone rings.
3:01-3:05 p.m.: Talk with Sgt. Koll Mykelbust; make plans for lunch on Thursday. Find out Longview now has two motorcycle cops instead of one.
3:06 p.m.: Refill my Coke and go back to work on SWAT.
3:07-4:15 p.m.: Work on final draft of GURPS SWAT.
4:16-4:45 p.m.: Talk with long-time friend, Tom Cramer (yeah, that's a 20-year-old me in the band pictures, playing guitar under all that hair). Order a halibut fish fillet - no fries, no drink. Grumble about the $3.59 it costs.
4:46 p.m.: Seriously consider finding someplace else to sit and write.
4:47-5:04 p.m.: Talk to Burgerville employee, Andrew, about gaming and writing.
5:05 p.m.: Feel mildly bad about the fact that Andrew is now late for his shift.
5:06-5:35 p.m.: Work on final draft of GURPS SWAT.
5:36-5:45 p.m.: Talk to my sister again, who has come back in to buy a bag of frozen chicken fillets. Wonder why.
5:46 p.m.: Stop wondering. Go back to work.
5:47-8:00 p.m.: Work on final draft of GURPS SWAT.
8:01 p.m.: Realize it's 8:01 p.m.
8:01:15 p.m.: Realize it's gotten dark outside.
8:01:30 p.m.: Shut down my laptop and stretch. Spot Andrew headed my way.
8:02-8:05 p.m.: Talk to Burgerville employee, Andrew, about being tired. Try not to take offense when he says: "You look tired. You look like you've been up 24 hours straight."
8:06 p.m.: Pack up, say goodbye to Burgerville employees Andrew, Chelsea, and Cairy. Wave at Stefan from a distance. Drive home, listening to Sarah McLachlan's Surfacing CD.
8:20-8:30 p.m.: Dump all the crap out of my pockets (keys, cash, change, watch, sunglasses, pen, post-it notes, business card, etc.), hook my laptop into my home computer network, boot it up. Go scrounge around in fridge, looking for something good to eat. Fail.
8:30 p.m.: Log into Pyramoo chat to kibitz during Brandon Cope's online cyberpunk SWAT game.
8:31 p.m.: Realize that the GURPS WWII: All the King's Men playtest has started and I have 167 playtest posts to read.
8:32 p.m.: Realize that I have 41 new email messages. Apparently my penis still isn't big enough, but at least my mortgage can be refinanced.
8:33 p.m.: Seriously consider finding a new line of work.
8:34-10:10 p.m.: Work on playtest comments for both King's Men and SWAT, read and reply to emails, and try to keep track of Brandon's online game. Notice I'm very skilled at switching windows in Windows.
10:11 p.m.: Wonder why I'm getting a headache.
10:12-10:22 p.m.: Cook and eat a microwave burrito. Wish I'd put cheese on it first.
10:23-1:00 a.m.: Resume switching windows (see 8:34-10:10 p.m. for details).
1:00 a.m.: Brandon's online game ends. Playtest comments remain.
1:01 a.m.: Send an email to Hans-Christian Vortisch in Germany, asking for help with vehicles and weapons in King's Men.
1:02-1:20 a.m.: Talk on the MOO with Roland Boshnack and Brandon Cope about GURPS SWAT playtest.
1:21-1:30 a.m.: Say goodnight to the guys on the MOO, close up the program. Look at the new playtest comments appearing from gamers in Europe. Post mildly witty replies since I'm too tired to actually write anything sane. Close up the playtest, cursing.
1:31 a.m.: Seriously consider finding a new line of work.
1:32-1:55 a.m.: Send off six more emails; close down Outlook. Deal with another handful of playtest comments.
1:56 a.m.: Set clock radios for 9:00 a.m. and 9:30 a.m.
1:47-2:10 a.m.: Take a hot shower, brush teeth, turn on Clarence Clemon's Peacemaker CD.
2:11-2:45 a.m.: Write this blog entry.
2:46 a.m.: Regret spending half an hour on this blog entry.

From this point forward, things get sketchy. But for the most part, it will probably look something like this:

2:47-3:56 a.m.: Toss and turn, thinking about work, wishing I could sleep.
3:57-8:59 a.m.: Sleep restless sleep of a condemned man. Dream about writing. Subconsciously consider finding a new line of work.
9:00 a.m.: Wake up, cursing KLPU for playing something jazzy on clock radio #1.
9:00:15 a.m.: Wish I'd set the alarm for 10:00.
9:00:18 a.m.: Wish I hadn't stayed up so late, blogging.
9:00:20 a.m.: Hit snooze...

Email Trouble - AGAIN

Apparently my web host decided that since they'd let me send email (see yesterday's rant), that now they don't want me receiving email. It's down; I'm not receiving. If you're trying to email me (Angelina Jolie, are you listening?) give it a day or so. Worst case, I'll post my Hotmail address here for emergencies. Meantime, I have a trouble ticket open, but that doesn't seem to be helping. Lamers.

Two Books due out in December

Looks like GURPS SWAT and GURPS WWII: All the King's Men are moving toward production, and both are slated for a December release. They've got the web pages up for both, though there's no cover art as of this writing. But go take a look if you want:

GURPS SWAT Web Page
GURPS WWII: All the King's Men Web Page

I managed to get through most of the SWAT playtest before starting up the one for King's Men. The former is still underway for another week, the latter starts today and runs three weeks. Thankfully they only overlapped by a week, instead of running fully concurrently. That would have been horrific.

As it is, SWAT is looking like it'll be a great book. The extra pages have proven very helpful, and the playtest was probably the best one I've ever done (due, in part, to the great Lead Playtest work of Roland Boshnack - way to go, Roland!)

Enough rambling for now. I need lunch and time to clean up SWAT's hostage negotiation rules before the King's Men playtest opens. Here's to a quick, productive playtest...

Email Trouble

It seems I can't send email at the moment, though I'm recieving it just fine. If you're expecting a reply from me soon (Gene, Roland, Stephen), trust that it's in my Outlook queue, just waiting for adelphia.net to get their act together so I can send it.

Hopefully this won't last long. If it's not fixed by tomorrow, I'll start firing off emails through my spam-laden Hotmail account...

Li Mei Chen! - The 2003 Dragonflight Post-Convention Report

Okay, kids, gather 'round. It's time for the annual Dragonflight post-convention report! Gotta warn ya in advance, however, it's long. Yeah, I like to think it's worth the time to read, but you might wanna get a sandwich and take a bathroom break before you start! Let the story begin . . .

As usual, it was a wonderful con. I played too much, laughed myself into a puddle, and avoided sleep as if it were a Steve Jackson Games playtest. This year's convention was blessed with a visit from Steve Jackson Games' Managing Editor, Andrew Hackard, which made it only that much better.

Wednesday, August 13 - Geeky Fan Boys and Celebrity Headlocks
My week's festivities actually began on Wednesday when I met Andrew and Devin Ganger here in town, and we road tripped to Portland to see Wil Wheaton at a book signing. It was highly entertaining, as I mentioned earlier, and fun to see the audience turn and look our way when Wheaton pointed at Andrew and said, "I see my editor has come all the way from Austin." I nudged Andrew, told him he needed to sign some books. Pretty sure he did. I told him to put a little editorial carat (^) - the symbol for "insert this" - under Wil's signature and add a second "L" to the end of it. Pretty sure he didn't.

After the signing, we hung around and visited a while. I was awfully surprised when Andrew introduced me to Wheaton - I mean, after all, it was Wil Wheaton - and he said, "You wrote GURPS Cliffhangers? I own that book!" Surreal. Of course, not half as much as when I coerced him into letting me put him in a headlock and give him a noogie for a photo op. Sadly, I relied on an editor to do a photographer's work (right tool, right job - you'd think I'd learn!) and the pic just didn't take. Nevertheless, here it is in all its unretouched glory. That's me on the right, in white and red, Wil Wheaton in black, in a headlock. I drew a map in this version, in case you're still lost. Too bad the pic is blurred; he made a great face. But then, I guess that's why he's an actor. Or maybe I was just squeezing too hard.

Anyway, we had a great little road trip. Talked about everything from GURPS to girls, from family to Flaco Jimenez. They dropped me back in town at the local McDonald's (not a random choice - my car was there) and I prepared for the event of the year: Dragonflight 2003.

Friday, August 15 - Mongolian Grill, Brush Fires, and Magellan
Started the day out without enough sleep - pre-convention nerves kept me awake too late and NPR woke me up too early - but I managed to pack everything into my Subaru in time. Well, close anyway. My trip gear included not only a suitcase of clothes and a duffle of miscellaneous junk (clock radio, soap, toothbrush, an extra Sharpie or two, spare ammo, grappling hook, compass), and the ubiquitous gaming gear (GURPS books, Munchkin, Frag, Apples to Apples, dice, and a handful of Button Men), but also my acoustic guitar. I planned to spend some time pickin' and grinnin' with Scott and Jason Hill, whom you may remember from last year's convention report. If not, well, never you mind; we'll get back to them soon enough.

Made plans with an old high school friend, Mark Siltala (that's SIL-tah-lah to the uniformed - the Mark part is easy to pronounce; just bark like a hair-lipped dog). Mark, the great guy that he is, was headed to our old hometown of Rainier, Oregon for his 25th high school reunion. Now, I won't say that makes him old, since I already admitted to being in high school with him. Suffice to say, he graduated before I did - by anywhere from 2-7 years, depending on my mood.

So I called Mark, who promised to "always be by his desk" to make specific plans for lunch in Olympia, Washington (which is en route to Seattle for me - no, don't get the map out, just trust me on this one). No matter how often I called him, however, that day or any other day, he was NEVER near his desk. Nor did he answer his cell phone. In his defense, he always called me back, but I think he was screening.

Anyway, we met up at a Mongolian Grill in Olympia. Now, I love Mongolian Grill as much as the next guy, but this one was . . . uhm . . . well . . . I could have actually flown to Mongolia and eaten lunch in the time it took them to get around to cooking my meal. Still, it was great seeing Mark and catching up on things. We, of course, promised we'd have to get together more often. We'll see if that proves true in the coming year. We're only an hour apart, but he's got a wife and kids, I've got Steve Jackson Games; he's got a steady 9-5 job, I've got . . . uhm . . . Steve Jackson Games. He's got a nice house, a car . . . err . . .

Okay, forget that. Let's get on with the story.

Got stalled between Tacoma and Seattle by a brush fire between the freeway lanes. Well, a big black patch covered with foam by the time I got to it, but I assume it was much more threatening at some point before my arrival. So I was late getting to the con, but still managed to make it by about 3:00 pm. Checked in, but had no room. John Poole, Dragonflight President (or something - John, what ARE you, exactly?) showed up in time and cleared it up. I got a nice end room on the fifth floor. Or fourth. To be honest, I can't remember. Devin was on one of them, I was on the other. It's all a blur.

Packed my junk to my room, got my parking permit - $18.00 for three days; "Even I have to pay for my own parking," John explained - trudged back down to my car (in a parking garage, downhill, about three stories and a good 200 feet), hauled my guitar and gaming gear up to my room (for a total of about 14 stories and 800 feet) and collapsed in my hot, not-air-conditioned room, tired and sweaty and ready to call it a day.

But not I! I cowboy'd up, changed my shirt, and headed . . . er, changed my pants too . . . and headed . . . I kept the same underwear, if it matters . . . headed down to . . . I don't remember, but I think I changed socks too . . . headed down to the ballroom in Campion Hall to meet the day.

(I really don't remember about the socks. Blur, remember?)

Somehow I managed to hook up with Andrew and Devin (and Devin's family - hi, Steph!) and after a quick round of "Hey, how are ya?" we headed to Subway for food then returned for more handshaking and book signing and general yakking before it was time for my first game of the weekend: GURPS SWAT: Cold War.

I won't bore everyone with details, but it was a great game. Devin managed to get signed up and took on the role of team commander. He hated it. Well, he loved it. Like in a "love to hate it" sort of way. Being the team commander, he got to order everyone else around, but every decision fell on him and if he made the wrong choice, people would die. Turns out, he's a natural born SWAT commander - nobody took a single hit during the entire session. Way to go, Dev!

The game broke up about midnight and I finally made contact with Scott Hill (remember him from a few paragraphs back?) See, I'd programmed Scott's cell phone number into my cell phone, expressly so I could contact him at Dragonflight without a lot of work. I'd spent the week calling his cell phone, called it on the way up, called it while I was at the con, and I just kept getting this weird voice mail. So I left no end of equally weird and potentially lawsuit-inducing messages (Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!) just to harass him.

Turns out, he gave his old cell phone to his girlfriend, and failed to give me his new number.

First Mark, now Scott. Conspiracy, I tell ya.

Scott's girlfriend: if you're reading this - why do I think her name is Magellan or Columbus or Amerigo or something? - I apologize about the messages, and I really won't do those evil things to your cat. Heck, I don't even own a hand-powered egg-beater! Are we good?

(No, really. I think it's Magellan).

Friday night turned into Saturday morning, and a group of us headed to the roleplaying floor (Floor 12 - I remember that, because it was the top floor in Campion) and grabbed an unoccupied room. Jason Hill (Scott's brother) unveiled one of his awesome games and we dug in. It was Andrew, Devin, Jason, Scott, and another Seattle friend, Chris "I Have Many Nicknames" Kemnow. We played guitar - yeah, I got to jam with Old Man Tasty! - sang some songs, played games, laughed, and generally wore ourselves out. I wanted to keep playing all night (Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!) but Scott and Jason claimed they had to paint miniatures for the next day's events. I think they just wanted to go change their cell phone numbers on me.

I headed back to my (now cold and dark and bug infested because I didn't close the windows) dorm room at about 4:00 a.m., set my alarm for 10:00, and promptly crashed.

Saturday, August 16 - Did I Mention it was a Blur?
Despite my earnest desire to get a lot of sleep, I woke up early to the sound of . . . aw, heck, I still don't know what it was. Something outside my window and four (or five?) stories down that sounded like a cat in a hand-powered eggbeater. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite like that. Probably just construction equipment or an industrial cardboard shredder. But it was early and I was awake. Laid in bed until NPR announced it was 10:00, and I trudged to the showers.

Did I mention it's a community shower? I felt a little like Tony Shaloub's Monk as I tried to take a shower without stepping in anyone else's residual, germ-filled water puddles. Can't be done.

Much of midday is kind of blurry (Have I mentioned that before? Did I also mention I hadn't slept enough?) but I remember introducing Andrew to various friends in the industry (Chris Weedin, Raven Mimura), and meeting some new ones (Tim Morgan, Todd Downing). I also surprised Raven's agent / manager / representative / something Deirdre Wehrman (Deirdre, what exactly IS your title?) by remembering her name (though admittedly I couldn't spell it correctly - it's right this time, though, right Deirdre?) and thrilled Chris Weedin by telling him I actually had notes for a pulp Horror Rules adventure I'm planning on writing.

I met Chris two years ago - at Dragonflight 2001, I think - and we've been friends since. I FINALLY got to actually PLAY Horror Rules on Saturday afternoon, despite having been a number of cons with him in the interim. It was a great game. I played Burcham Wickes, Executive Vice President in Charge of Marketing and something something . . . mumble . . . Condiments . . . something and Marketing. Er, okay, so I said "marketing" twice. It's a blur, remember? So Wickes - my character - ended up in a secret lab in the basement of a condiments manufacturing research lab thingy (it made more sense at the time, really) and ended up being crushed to death by a giant anaconda with a woman's head. (Okay, maybe it didn't make much more sense, but it was still a blast). It only dawned on me later why we were at a condiments building. The snake was named Ann; the building's cover was condiments. Ann-condiments. Anaconda. Chris, you're just too weird, my friend. But I'll still write the pulp adventure.

So anyway, I headed back to the main floor, hooked up with James Ernest for a big Diceland: Ogre tournament (he gave me a signed copy - he's a nice guy), but turned it over to Andrew to represent SJ Games instead. He is, after all, Higher On The Food Chain Than I. According to his report in the August 20, 2003 Daily Illuminator, he crushed the competition. Way to go, Andrew!

After a quick meal I headed back to run GURPS SWAT: Murder, Incorporated, a sort of sequel to the first game. This time around, the team commander role fell to Paul Tevis, an SJ Games MIB who'd flown up from Santa Something, California. Turns out, I've now added Paul to my "cool guys I've met at conventions and wish they lived closer" list. It's a good list; welcome aboard, Paul.

Despite Paul's fine commanding ability, and some suggestions from Dragonflight veteran and founder Chuck Monson (who is also on that list, by the way), the SWAT team ended up taking several hits this time around. Two were stopped by trauma plates in the armor, one was a flesh wound, but the others were a little more bothersome. They did, however, manage to stop the Bad Guys and none of the PCs died.

The game, like the previous night's session, was well-received. Turns out there were a lot of folks that wanted to play, but couldn't get signed up. Being the ever-vigilant Shannon Hunter, Daring Photojournalist that I am (inside reference; ignore it if you don't get it), I arranged to run yet another SWAT session on Sunday (Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!) so that everyone who didn't get to play, could.

After the game, it was back to Floor 12 for more silliness with the Midnight Dragonflight Crew. (That's my new name for us, so I don't have to write "Andrew, Chris, Devin, Jason, Scott, and I" every time. Of course, I had to write it just now to explain it, so maybe that wasn't very helpful. I'll try and use it again later).

This time around, we gamed until daybreak (no, really, Scott and I took pictures of the sunrise over Seattle. I'm sure his turned out better than mine; I have a crappy digital camera). I fell into bed, with echoes of Scott's oddly intonated choruses of "Li Mei Chen!" in my head (you had to be there to understand that reference - she was a character Chris played in one of our games), and was out like a light. I vaguely remember setting my alarm for 10:00 again, although it was well after 7:00 a.m. by the time I got back to my room. Ah, Dragonflight.

Sunday, August 17 - News from Lake Wobegon
Music . . . bright lights . . . what's happening?! Is that Garrison Keeler I hear? Who's that singing?

Oh, right. NPR. It's morning, Sunday, and I'm in a tiny twin bed in the middle of the biggest city in Washington State, having only slept 2 1/2 hours, and I have to get up and run SWAT. Hoo boy.

Despite having set my alarm for 10:00, somehow my body ignored the "unforgettable comedy sketches, acoustic-based music, and Garrison Keeler's signature monologue" of the Prairie Home Companion that had been blaring for nearly an hour (well, "blaring" is relative; it was only a clock radio, after all). I climbed (fell) out of bed, checked the clock (10:45 a.m.), and walked (stumbled) to the shower where I basked (swayed unsteadily) in the steaming hot (lukewarm at best) shower (trickle), totally oblivious of other people's germ-laden puddles (germ-laden puddles).

I ran into Andrew about 11:00-ish, we headed up to a little teriyaki place, where we wound up being two of the last three people to get any food. They ran out of rice and Andrew's pork looked suspiciously like my chicken. The cook was out sick (not a good sign, in my book, but we stayed anyway), so his housekeeper or mother or geisha or something was filling in. She worked hard, was very nice, but sadly ran out of food. I'm still trying to figure out how you run out of food in a restaurant, but that's fodder for another day.

Lunch with Andrew was nice. It was actually the first time we'd gotten to visit by ourselves. Seems like there was always a friend or a fan around. If it wasn't that pesky fanboy Wil Wheaton following me around Powell Books-

"Brian, I'm your biggest fan! Can I get a picture with you? Will you sign my shirt? What's it like to work with Gene Seabolt? Will you put me in a headlock?" Hmm . . . you don't suppose he can sue me for that, do you? I mean, my memory of the event might be a teeny bit off.

-it was Chris Weedin shoving an autographed copy of my beloved Horror Rules in my face:

"Take it, Brian! You wanted it so badly, it's yours! And you're not getting a single TWINKIE you #@%!&$* JERK!" He hates it when I call his game "my beloved." Makes him furious. That's what all those weird characters are about. Oh, he doesn't really talk that way, but I thought it made for a better story. And I'm still going to marry his game.

Anyway, despite the fact that Andrew and I could have badmouthed everyone we knew, plotted a hostile takeover of Steve Jackson Games, made fun of certain well-known industry professionals, or even [ENTRY DELETED DUE TO NATIONAL SECURITY], we did not. Actually, it turns out we'd already done all that and had run out of things to talk about. Yeeeeah . . . nothing like sitting in silence, in a mostly-empty take-out restaurant of indeterminate Asian origin, trying to make small talk, and eating the last of the chicken-shaped pork teriyaki with your editor.

Yeah, that's the life.

(Okay, I have to digress and be serious for a moment. It was a great lunch, and Andrew is honestly a great guy. We got a lot done over the weekend, even on Sunday, Bloody Sunday. He's a fine editor and an even better person. He's on my list too. I just hope he doesn't send me editorial suggestions for this story . . . )

So we finished up lunch and headed back to the campus (Dragonflight is held at Seattle University, downtown). I wandered the con for a bit, catching up with folks I hadn't gotten to talk to and taking more pictures. Did I mention I have a crappy camera? Well, I do. And I also have crappy pictures. Might put them up if I get some crappy time.

Eventually, 2:00 p.m. rolled around. Time for the final SWAT game. This one was originally slated to be a little shorter, so I went with a single call-out: a bank robbery gone bad. Paul Tevis once again jumped in as commander, and this time Devin's wife, Stephanie, got to play. Way to go, Steph! I also got to play with Rob Lowry of Thread Impressions, who made me an awesome GURPS S.W.A.T. t-shirt, which, unfortunately, I have to deny exists since it probably violates some kind of SJ Games trademark. Steve, if you're reading this, there's no such shirt, honest.

(Okay, there is, and it rocks. Black t-shirt with a cool white GURPS S.W.A.T. logo over the left breast. But don't tell Steve).

Rob's friend Adam (who I erroneously signed a book cover to as "Andy" - more on this in a moment) and MIB John Kono also played. Mike Kelly jumped in later in the game, when Paul realized he was late for a plane back to Santa Something. He promised to come to Portland and visit, though. We'll see. He'll probably give me a fake cell phone number.

The game went great, but the presence of hostages slowed the planning stage. I gotta admit, though, that the plan they finally executed was a good one. After over three real-time hours of planning, they cut power to the bank (to disable a video camera on the back door) and part of the team made a stealth entry through the back. When the power came back on, they blew up the bank's front windows with squibs and sniper fire and the rest of the team made a dynamic entry through the resultant holes. Together the two halves cleared the bank, killing two suspects, wounding one, and taking one without injury. One SWAT officer was wounded (Mike Kelly, shot in the foot, shin, thigh), but the hostages were all saved. The whole execution took about 15 seconds of game-time, maybe 20 minutes real-time. Way to go, team!

Anyway, remember the erroneously signed book cover from two paragraphs ago? It was an uncut cover from GURPS WWII: Return to Honor, and I'd signed it, in big, bold black: "To Andy, Brian J. Underhill." Well, since his name was Adam, that wouldn't do (have I mentioned the blur? The lack of sleep? Garrison Keeler?) So I ended up giving him a more accurate version (sorry, Adam!), and then pondered what to do with the erroneous one. Somehow, with a little help from the players, I eventually hit upon a brilliant, nefarious plan.

Using my red Sharpie - yes, I have one - I drew a sort of editorial mark for "delete this" (a sort of loopy thing with a big tail on it; or at least that's what they call it in The Industry), running the mark through the "Y" in Andy. Stay with me here. I then put an "insert this" mark (a carat sort of thing, like this: ^) underneath the end of the word (which now read, simply, "And") and added three little letters: "rew." Get it?

(If you can't figure that one out without help, stop reading and call me, I'll explain).

As we wrapped up the game, Andrew showed up at the table. He'd been playing Horror Rules, I think; he seemed to like that game a lot. So I gave the now-edited, "revised first draft" of the signed cover to Andrew who accepted it graciously and in the spirit it was offered. It's now framed in glass and prominently displayed in his office in Austin. (Right, Andrew? Right? Aw, c'mon, please?)

As we wrapped up the day, I got a nice invitation from Devin and Steph to come over for homemade pizza and some games. I think Andrew was going to run Horror Rules. But I was already a zombie ("Braaaiinns...") and had a long drive ahead. So I gave 'em all hugs - yeah, I hugged my editor; cool, hunh? - and said goodbye. Blew my last $5 cash on a big fat McDonald's meal (Quarter Pounder with a shot of Special Sauce if anyone cares) and called everyone I knew on my cell phone during the drive home so I'd stay awake.

Seems like most of them had changed their numbers.

Looking Back, Looking Forward
As usual, Dragonflight was an amazing con. Too much gaming, too much laughing, not enough sleep. I tried for 5-2-1: 5 hours of sleep, 2 meals, 1 shower, each day. 5-2-1. It's my con thing. I managed the meals and the showers, but I'm still working on the sleep part. Maybe I'll get it right some day.

I always look forward to this convention and every year it ends too quickly. There's people I didn't get to spend enough time with, games I didn't get to play, sleep I didn't get to get. But I know it'll be around next year, and I'll laugh/game myself into a stupor once again.

I turned 41 this year, though, and it makes me wonder how many more Dragonflights I have left in me. That 5-2-1 may have to be enforced next year. One day it may become 6-2-1, 7-2-1, or worse. Will the friends on my list grow older at the same pace? Or will I leave them behind and retire early to my (cold and dark and bug infested because I didn't close the windows) dorm room, and listen to them laughing 8 (or 9) stories above? How old does one have to be to actually grow up and stop playing games, stop laughing, stop staying up too late? For me, I hope I never find out.

See, I don't usually worry about things like that. After all, I'm only 41. I've got a lot of Dragonflights left in me. A lot more games, a lot more laughter, a lot more people to add to my list.

So there will be a lot more Dragonflights for me. I just have to make sure I make every one count.

This year? Yeah. I did.

Kind Words from a Nice Guy

The August 20, 2003 Daily Illuminator - a regular email and web-based newsletter from Steve Jackson Games - had some nice words from Andrew Hackard about Seattle, Dragonflight, GURPS SWAT, and even me. Check it out if you have time, and thanks Andrew. :)

The Dragon Has Landed

Made it back from Dragonflight intact, if a bit worn out. It was a great con, as usual. Got lots of work done with my editor, Andrew Hackard; laughed myself silly with old friends; made new ones; finally got to play Chris Weedin's great game, Horror Rules; and ran close to 15 hours of GURPS SWAT. Whew.

More details to come in the annual - and much anticipated, they tell me - Post-Dragonflight Report. That is, when I'm not nodding off at the keyboard . . .

Zzzzz . . . Zzzzz . . . . Zzzzz . . . .

Taking Flight

I'm off to Dragonflight tomorrow morning, back Sunday or Monday. If you're in the vicinity, by all means stop by Seattle U and say howdy. Meantime, everyone have a safe weekend, and go buy Wil Wheaton's book. :)

Dancing Barefoot

I headed down to Portland last night - well, Beaverton, actually - to see Wil Wheaton at a book signing, for his new book, Dancing Barefoot. It was not really sure what I expected, to be honest. After all, wasn't Wil Wheaton that kid that played Wesley Crusher in ST:TNG? Well, yeah. But that was fifteen years ago. And Wil Wheaton is not Wesley Crusher.

The thirty-year old guy I saw at Powell's Books last night proved that to me in spades. He was mature, funny, entertaining, serious, down-to-earth, and absolutely cool. The kind of guy you just wanna hang out with and drink beer.

He read a couple of excerpts from his book. I was happily surprised. Not only was the material good, but his reading was great. I found myself alternately laughing my head off and trying not to get all teary-eyed. Great stories, great delivery.

It also turns out that Wil's a Steve Jackson Games fan, and actually owns GURPS Cliffhangers (amongst many other GURPS books). How weird is that? Wil Wheaton owns one of my books. Hmph. Now if I can just get him to come back up this way and play a game or two. (Wil, ya listening, bud? You're invited. No more headlocks, I promise! )

Yeah. I'm sure he'll jump all over that...

Anyway, all said and done, if you get a chance to pick up his book, do it. Even better, if you get to hear him do a reading, do that. I'll get a review up when I finish Dancing Barefoot. Probably take it with me to Dragonflight and try to get some of it read then. Good book, good guy. Two thumbs up.

Just Some Rambling

I tried to think up a witty title for today's entry, but to no avail. Probably because I don't have anything terribly earth-shattering to report, just a bunch of little stuff all jumbled up. So bear with me if this seems disjointed. It probably is.

1) Went for a morning walk/run today and in typical Pacific Northwest fashion the sunny day turned into a downpour. Needless to say I kicked it up a notch once my shirt had soaked through and I couldn't see for the rain in my eyes. What a great way to start the day: exercise and shower in one fell swoop. Wish I'd brought shampoo.

2) SWAT: The Movie opened this weekend. Gotta go see it, but haven't. Later this week. I'll try and post a review, for what it's worth.

3) I dug out an old half-written novel I started years ago. Not sure why, since I have another I'm trying to finish. I stumbled across it on my hard drive last week and started reading, got hooked, started thinking. Now I can't sleep at night cause my brain's writing the rest of the story. But that part's not really new. If I get ambitious, I'll try to post the first few chapters here. It's radically different than Cult of the Double Axe. Cult is pretty light; this other piece (tentatively titled Chosen) is awfully dark and heavy. It'd probably end up stuck in the horror section of the book store.

4) The GURPS SWAT playtest is scheduled to start today, though as of this writing it's not up yet. Probably will be soon. Likewise, playtest on All the King's Men is going to start up Real Soon Now. Good grief; concurrent playtests, my worst nightmare.

5) The short story for Silver Age Sentinels is complete and has gone through three or four revisions, thanks to suggestions from various folks. I'm still not 100% satisfied with it, but at least now I know why. There's a scene missing from the story that would have allowed me to get into a secondary character's head (Gray Ghost for those of you in the know). The submission guidelines said 3,000-6,000 words, however, and Hero - the short story - is already at 5,850. Couldn't do her justice in only 150 words, so I never wrote the scene. If the piece gets picked up, I still retain the copyright, so I'll eventually have to write the scene and include it in the "director's cut" - which will, of course, be posted here in all its superhero glory.

6) I cancelled a lot of projects last week, the ones that had been hanging over my head and causing a lot of stress. The toughest choice was to tell Mongoose I wanted to revoke my application for their salaried writer position. It's not the job that would have been tough, but their writing assignment/test fell at exactly the wrong time for me to do a halfway passable job. Maybe another time. I also stepped down from a slot with Game Storm for next year. I was going to oversee a "How to Get Published in the RPG Industry" workshop for next year's con, but (as I've mentioned before) my schedule is just too tight. Northwest Gamers wanted a monthly column on gaming, but I turned that down too (sorry, Greg!) They were tough calls, all, but at least I have a little room to breathe.

7) Actor and author Wil Wheaton is doing his book signing at Powell's Books in Beaverton, starting at 7:00 p.m., on Wednesday, August 13. I'll be there, so will Andrew Hackard, managing editor of Steve Jackson Games. Come on by if you can.

I'm outta here for now. Going to clean up Hero and get it sent off, work on Chosen or Cult for a while, and grab lunch at the local Burgerville. With Dragonflight coming up next weekend, don't look for too much more out of me until at least a week from now.

Make sure and swing by Powell's if you're in the Portland area, or come up to Dragonflight in Seattle next week. Until then...

Outta Here

I'll be gone from Thursday, August 7 through Monday, August 11, so don't look for any updates and try to keep the emails to a minimum during that time. Thanks, all! Have a great weekend.

Stress and Other Perqs of Being a Game Designer

Went to the doctor yesterday (routine checkup). My blood pressure was 154/110. Welcome to the exciting world of game design...

Hackard, Wheaton, and Underhill in One Place? No way!

Steve Jackson Games managing editor, Andrew Hackard, will be coming up to Seattle next week and making a stopover at Dragonflight. He's been semi-planning it for a while, but I talked to him today and he gave the thumbs up.

Andrew and I will (hopefully) be popping down to Portland to visit Wil Wheaton on the 13th. Wil's in town doing a signing for his new book, Dancing Barefoot.

So whether you're a Wil Wheaton fan, an Andrew Hackard fan, or a Brian Underhill fan, you'll have plenty of chances to step up and say howdy around August 13-16-ish in both Portland and Seattle. Details coming soon, as usual.