God Damnit.
So five years ago I managed to quit my nerd crack addiction. Nerd Crack (for those who don't know) is Magic the Gathering, the card game by Wizards of the Coast.
For those of you that don't know, Magic the gathering is a trading card game created in 1993 by Wizards of the Coast and continues to remain strong even to this day.
It's a fun game where you build a deck from cards you buy (in booster packs or other types of pack) and play against other players trying to defeat them. It's one of the nerdier things I do.
Incase you want to learn, here's the wizards website and a tutorial.
Well I have always been off and on with Magic, way back when I was a kid and watching Yu-gi-oh the cards weren't sold in England, but the MTG cards were so I bought them. That was my first interaction with them, though I did not at all play the game as intended.
Fast forward ten years, I've moved to Scotland for my first QA job and there are a bunch of people who play. They get me involved and I really enjoy it. Buying cards, playing, buying cards, making decks, buying cards.
It was very addicting.
I played a ton until the company I worked for (Realtime Worlds) went bust and we were all made redundant.
We all went home and I had nobody to play with.
3 years later and I start work at Ideaworks 3D, a mobile games studio in central London. A bunch of people play it there, but I'm only a temp so I don't bother with it. I talk to them about it, but I don't buy anything. My addiction is pushed back. I don't have to worry anymore.
Flash forward another two years and I get hired at my current job at Future Games of London. Nobody plays Magic, my money is safe. a year passes, people from Ideaworks join the company who do play magic, but nobody really plays in the office. Another few months pass, An Australian with a Magic habit joins and starts some draft tournaments where we get new cards every time. I take part, it's only £7 a time, what does it matter? right? well all those tiny bits of crack culminated last week when the latest set came out. I bought an almost £70 box of booster packs. I bought a £15 deck builder kit and I'm contemplating buying a £25 fatpack and another £70 booster box.
Almost 6 years sober from my nerd crack and now... now I've spent almost £100 in a week and still contemplating another £84 worth of cards!
There is something wrong with me.
Moral of the story; dont do nerd crack, kids... or do. It's really fun. you should try it.
Magic-Spellslingers-Tube
- James
Wednesday, 22 July 2015
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
The Next Logical Step
So I started a new project a couple of days ago (big shock, right? when am I not starting a new project?). I've been listening/reading a lot of mystery books lately. Books about people from unlikely situations who are put into the role of detective. There are a lot of books about mystery authors who solve crimes, so much so that there are TV shows about it. A couple of films. I've seen some things about actors, some about people who work in TV, movies, radio. It's all out there.
It seems to me that the next logical step from that would be games developers solving crimes. Games Designers in general have to have a lot of logical and critical thinking. They have to learn all about all sorts of things (especially if they're involved in lots of different types of games). It makes sense to me that someone with the experience of a games designer should be able to do this just as well as someone with the experience of a writer.
However I felt it was a little self-aggrandising. Like I'm writing a book about myself solving crimes. Which bothers me. Yes I named my magic detective after myself, but that bothered me for a long time as well and at first it was just a placeholder name.
To combat this I thought maybe make it a female games Designer, which led me to the idea of using Gamergate as a major plot point.
For those of you unaware of Gamergate, you can read more here; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamergate_controversy
the basics of it was that a group of people verbally assaulted female members of the games industry for varying degrees of feminism and varying opinions. the verbal assault was not limited to insults there were genuine threats and credible threats (some of which the police and security ignored for whatever reason, such as Anita Sarkeesian's Utah University speaking event, which was threatened with a mass shooting and the authorities, both police and university security, refused to assure that there were no guns present in the speaking hall). The threats were both personal and impersonal, and whether you agreed with the victims (and that is what they were in the end) opinions, no normal person can believe that they deserved such heinous attacks on their lives.
Anyway. I liked the idea and making the main character female let me use the gamergate fiasco as a source of contention for the whole thing. I'm going to start writing it and see where it goes. But this has been the first idea I've been genuinely happy with in a long time.
Oliver-Tube
- James
It seems to me that the next logical step from that would be games developers solving crimes. Games Designers in general have to have a lot of logical and critical thinking. They have to learn all about all sorts of things (especially if they're involved in lots of different types of games). It makes sense to me that someone with the experience of a games designer should be able to do this just as well as someone with the experience of a writer.
However I felt it was a little self-aggrandising. Like I'm writing a book about myself solving crimes. Which bothers me. Yes I named my magic detective after myself, but that bothered me for a long time as well and at first it was just a placeholder name.
To combat this I thought maybe make it a female games Designer, which led me to the idea of using Gamergate as a major plot point.
For those of you unaware of Gamergate, you can read more here; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamergate_controversy
the basics of it was that a group of people verbally assaulted female members of the games industry for varying degrees of feminism and varying opinions. the verbal assault was not limited to insults there were genuine threats and credible threats (some of which the police and security ignored for whatever reason, such as Anita Sarkeesian's Utah University speaking event, which was threatened with a mass shooting and the authorities, both police and university security, refused to assure that there were no guns present in the speaking hall). The threats were both personal and impersonal, and whether you agreed with the victims (and that is what they were in the end) opinions, no normal person can believe that they deserved such heinous attacks on their lives.
Anyway. I liked the idea and making the main character female let me use the gamergate fiasco as a source of contention for the whole thing. I'm going to start writing it and see where it goes. But this has been the first idea I've been genuinely happy with in a long time.
Oliver-Tube
- James
Tuesday, 30 June 2015
Struggle
Recently I've been having a hard time coming up with new ideas. I've had trouble getting motivated to write. I've struggled for inspiration. It's been bothering me for some time now that Maybe I'd lost the ability. My friends say I havent and that it's not possible, btu it genuinely worries me.
I havent really writen anything cool or interesting or even jus fun in a long time. a year or more.
And I still havent. I don't see any way of fixing that.
But I have decided to go back to an old project that I always liked and never finished.
Do you remember Hunter?
You do? good. that makes this easier.
I finished the first book and started sending it out to agents but at the same time I started working on a second book. Originally it was a Nanowrimo but it had a lot of potential so I've gone back to it. The funny thing is I've noticed a bunch of plot points, sub plots, that I started but I have absolutely no idea where they go.
For example;
“Hm?” She stops turning around to look at me. “Oh, fine. Just a little tired.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” She sighs. “I think-”
“Hello?” a voice comes from out in the waiting room.
“Ah, this will be your nine-thirty.” she says, happy to change the subject. “Excuse me.”
“Okay.” I say, frowning as she walks to the door. “If you need to talk about… whatever is giving you sleepless nights, you can come to me any time.”
She smiles a little. “Thank you. I will think about it.”
I am absolutely certain that this was goign somewhere. I know for a fact that at some point I was supposed to come back to it and find out why she doesnt sleep. But what exactly it is thats wrong. Whatever is keeping her awake... I havent got a clue.
Is she having nightmares about her abusive childhood? Is there a neighbour blaring music all night? does she secretly have a crush on the author? who knows.
I have to decide whether I want to cut it or figure something out. Its so minor, and the book is already bloated with plots - who killed the victim, who stole the painting, why is hunter such a child about meeting his girlfriends parents, is he going to ruin the relationship, who ordered the art theft, whats wrong with his daughter, hows his relationship with his sister developing, whats going on with Tony Dimarco, and a half dozen other plots that in the end are supposed to fold back into one - I might aswell cut it, but I feel like it was important. Or like it was going to be important eventually.
It's also quite fun to read something you wrote 2 years ago and be impressed wiht how you wrote a section, or think 'actually, it would work SUPER well if this thing happened' only to realise that I'd writen this thing in the next sentence.
Quite funny to read my comments to myself aswell, things like "Isn't this reversed?" and "This but well written, James."
I like hunter, and I'm going to keep going, but I'm still worried abotu my writing abilities.
Tubage
- James
I havent really writen anything cool or interesting or even jus fun in a long time. a year or more.
And I still havent. I don't see any way of fixing that.
But I have decided to go back to an old project that I always liked and never finished.
Do you remember Hunter?
You do? good. that makes this easier.
I finished the first book and started sending it out to agents but at the same time I started working on a second book. Originally it was a Nanowrimo but it had a lot of potential so I've gone back to it. The funny thing is I've noticed a bunch of plot points, sub plots, that I started but I have absolutely no idea where they go.
For example;
“Hm?” She stops turning around to look at me. “Oh, fine. Just a little tired.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” She sighs. “I think-”
“Hello?” a voice comes from out in the waiting room.
“Ah, this will be your nine-thirty.” she says, happy to change the subject. “Excuse me.”
“Okay.” I say, frowning as she walks to the door. “If you need to talk about… whatever is giving you sleepless nights, you can come to me any time.”
She smiles a little. “Thank you. I will think about it.”
I am absolutely certain that this was goign somewhere. I know for a fact that at some point I was supposed to come back to it and find out why she doesnt sleep. But what exactly it is thats wrong. Whatever is keeping her awake... I havent got a clue.
Is she having nightmares about her abusive childhood? Is there a neighbour blaring music all night? does she secretly have a crush on the author? who knows.
I have to decide whether I want to cut it or figure something out. Its so minor, and the book is already bloated with plots - who killed the victim, who stole the painting, why is hunter such a child about meeting his girlfriends parents, is he going to ruin the relationship, who ordered the art theft, whats wrong with his daughter, hows his relationship with his sister developing, whats going on with Tony Dimarco, and a half dozen other plots that in the end are supposed to fold back into one - I might aswell cut it, but I feel like it was important. Or like it was going to be important eventually.
It's also quite fun to read something you wrote 2 years ago and be impressed wiht how you wrote a section, or think 'actually, it would work SUPER well if this thing happened' only to realise that I'd writen this thing in the next sentence.
Quite funny to read my comments to myself aswell, things like "Isn't this reversed?" and "This but well written, James."
I like hunter, and I'm going to keep going, but I'm still worried abotu my writing abilities.
Tubage
- James
Friday, 5 June 2015
Experimenting
So I realised recently that most of my good projects come from writing exercises, from experiments. For example When I wrote Hunter I wanted to write a story all about magic, but never let the main character use it. When I wrote Exile I wanted to write a story all about a war, but never have the characters fight in it. When I wrote Dark Prince I wanted to write a story about a character with tons of social power but minimal magical power and a character with minimal social power but massive amounts of magical power and how they work together.
And so I wanted to talk to you about my latest short story, it's called the Receiving Room. The premise is that the main character is a room in the house of a lord in a mythical kingdom not unlike Victorian london. The room - the receiving room - is where the majority of things in the house happens. Its where the lord greets his guests, where he talks to his business interests, and with the back of the room opening up onto hte ballroom it is where things like weddings and wakes happen. I want to tell a story from the perspective of this one room. It will be a story of love and loss, war and peace, betrayal and business.
The reason I want to do it is because I think it'll be very interesting to write, and hopefully interesting to read.
I dont have much so far. Only the first scene and a bit of the second or third scene, but I thouhgt I'd share it with you. The first pass at least.
“And this is the receiving room, where one greets and entertains the more formal of their guests. The room is twenty feet by twenty-five feet.” Garrett explained as he stepped into the final room of the house, moving aside so that the latest husband and wife couple could step in behind him. With most homes the receiving room, as the first room any guest would see - other than the entrance hallway of course - would be the first room shown to prospective buyers, but whenever the agents of the estate showed the Ravenwood Estate they showed the room last.
The receiving room of the Ravenwood estate was a masterpiece. Garrett had known people to hate the entire rest of the house, only to turn around and swear that they would get the money to purchase it somehow.
“The floor is the original dark oak hardwood, over solid stone to block any sort of infestation that might arise in any other home.” He explained, turning to the couple as they looked around the room. The man was tall and quite severe looking, one of the wealthier business owners in the City. Garrett knew that he would have no hold over him. The beauty of the room would not sway him and his cold demeanor. The young woman, however, she was a different matter. She was beautiful and seemed sweet, excitable, passionate and all the positive adjectives that were appropriate to use for some other man’s wife.
What she saw in the cold man, Garrett had no idea. His wallet, perhaps? It didn’t matter. She was his in. While the man appeared unmoving and unemotional it did appear that he cared for the woman, loved her even. There was a moment at the bedrooms that she had become excited by the curtains and the wall murals when he had almost certainly smiled. Garrett knew that if he convinced her then he would have the sale he needed. “The hip level wood panelling of the walls is a lovely rosewood that matches the rest of the ground floor. notice the engravings all along the top that line up perfectly with the murals above? These were both created by master artisan Darrin Go’Hall.”
“Genuine Go’Hall work?” The young woman exclaimed, gasping. “The Go’hall? who painted the walls of the Clairmont Citadel?”
Garrett smiled, concealing the surprise at the woman’s knowledge of classical art. “The very same.” He sad. “He also sculpted the fireplace. Note the exquisite workmanship, how the rosewood blends with the dark colours of the fireplace stone and metal grate? You can hardly tell where one begins and the other ends, thanks to the carving on the wood and the stone.”
“Wow.” She exclaimed, taking in every intricate detail of the floral carvings, the vines and the small animals that looked so real that they might burst from the wood at any moment.
“Now; if I could draw your attention to the rest of the room.” Garrett continued, waving an arm around the room, focusing on the furniture. In one corner was a personal bar, already stocked with fine whiskies and wines. In the centre were various seats. An armchair, a three seater sofa and a chaise longue with matching off white, green and red floral pattern. The sofa and the chaise longue faced each other, about four feet apart with the armchair blocking the end furthest from the door to the room leaving a gap at one end to allow people to walk into the island of seating without having to squeeze through an inappropriately small gap. Between each chair was a small identical table, topped with small circles of varnished wood for those seated to place their drinks glasses upon.
The walls were as uncluttered as possible, to allow important visitors to have a man-servant or two standing at the ready. There were three slightly larger tables, made with the same wood and carved with the same patterns as the smaller tables and the wood panelling.
“It’s beautiful.” The young woman said to her cold man, almost involuntarily.
“The furniture will be remaining when the current owners vacate.” Garrett added. “Some of it is fine work, you can keep it or sell it if you have furniture of your own.”
“I love it.” The young woman said, and Garrett’s greed drank in the meaning.
His gaze turned to the cold man and a crinkle appeared at the corners of the cold man's lips and eyes. A smile. He nodded slightly and turned to Garrett. “We’ll take it.” He said. “Lord Victor McAdams and Lady Amelia McAdams.”
It's only a first pass, but I'mhopeful that I'll be able to write this story. I like it. Or I like the idea.
I find it interesting.
Fallout-Tubage
-James
And so I wanted to talk to you about my latest short story, it's called the Receiving Room. The premise is that the main character is a room in the house of a lord in a mythical kingdom not unlike Victorian london. The room - the receiving room - is where the majority of things in the house happens. Its where the lord greets his guests, where he talks to his business interests, and with the back of the room opening up onto hte ballroom it is where things like weddings and wakes happen. I want to tell a story from the perspective of this one room. It will be a story of love and loss, war and peace, betrayal and business.
The reason I want to do it is because I think it'll be very interesting to write, and hopefully interesting to read.
I dont have much so far. Only the first scene and a bit of the second or third scene, but I thouhgt I'd share it with you. The first pass at least.
“And this is the receiving room, where one greets and entertains the more formal of their guests. The room is twenty feet by twenty-five feet.” Garrett explained as he stepped into the final room of the house, moving aside so that the latest husband and wife couple could step in behind him. With most homes the receiving room, as the first room any guest would see - other than the entrance hallway of course - would be the first room shown to prospective buyers, but whenever the agents of the estate showed the Ravenwood Estate they showed the room last.
The receiving room of the Ravenwood estate was a masterpiece. Garrett had known people to hate the entire rest of the house, only to turn around and swear that they would get the money to purchase it somehow.
“The floor is the original dark oak hardwood, over solid stone to block any sort of infestation that might arise in any other home.” He explained, turning to the couple as they looked around the room. The man was tall and quite severe looking, one of the wealthier business owners in the City. Garrett knew that he would have no hold over him. The beauty of the room would not sway him and his cold demeanor. The young woman, however, she was a different matter. She was beautiful and seemed sweet, excitable, passionate and all the positive adjectives that were appropriate to use for some other man’s wife.
What she saw in the cold man, Garrett had no idea. His wallet, perhaps? It didn’t matter. She was his in. While the man appeared unmoving and unemotional it did appear that he cared for the woman, loved her even. There was a moment at the bedrooms that she had become excited by the curtains and the wall murals when he had almost certainly smiled. Garrett knew that if he convinced her then he would have the sale he needed. “The hip level wood panelling of the walls is a lovely rosewood that matches the rest of the ground floor. notice the engravings all along the top that line up perfectly with the murals above? These were both created by master artisan Darrin Go’Hall.”
“Genuine Go’Hall work?” The young woman exclaimed, gasping. “The Go’hall? who painted the walls of the Clairmont Citadel?”
Garrett smiled, concealing the surprise at the woman’s knowledge of classical art. “The very same.” He sad. “He also sculpted the fireplace. Note the exquisite workmanship, how the rosewood blends with the dark colours of the fireplace stone and metal grate? You can hardly tell where one begins and the other ends, thanks to the carving on the wood and the stone.”
“Wow.” She exclaimed, taking in every intricate detail of the floral carvings, the vines and the small animals that looked so real that they might burst from the wood at any moment.
“Now; if I could draw your attention to the rest of the room.” Garrett continued, waving an arm around the room, focusing on the furniture. In one corner was a personal bar, already stocked with fine whiskies and wines. In the centre were various seats. An armchair, a three seater sofa and a chaise longue with matching off white, green and red floral pattern. The sofa and the chaise longue faced each other, about four feet apart with the armchair blocking the end furthest from the door to the room leaving a gap at one end to allow people to walk into the island of seating without having to squeeze through an inappropriately small gap. Between each chair was a small identical table, topped with small circles of varnished wood for those seated to place their drinks glasses upon.
The walls were as uncluttered as possible, to allow important visitors to have a man-servant or two standing at the ready. There were three slightly larger tables, made with the same wood and carved with the same patterns as the smaller tables and the wood panelling.
“It’s beautiful.” The young woman said to her cold man, almost involuntarily.
“The furniture will be remaining when the current owners vacate.” Garrett added. “Some of it is fine work, you can keep it or sell it if you have furniture of your own.”
“I love it.” The young woman said, and Garrett’s greed drank in the meaning.
His gaze turned to the cold man and a crinkle appeared at the corners of the cold man's lips and eyes. A smile. He nodded slightly and turned to Garrett. “We’ll take it.” He said. “Lord Victor McAdams and Lady Amelia McAdams.”
It's only a first pass, but I'mhopeful that I'll be able to write this story. I like it. Or I like the idea.
I find it interesting.
Fallout-Tubage
-James
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