I just found out that Gary Gygax died. He was only 69.
I failed my save vs. stunning blow, so forgive me if this isn’t the most polished thing in the world.
For most geeks, RPGs are a huge part of who we are, and many of the games I’ve loved — and continue to love — probably wouldn’t exist as they do without Gary Gygax. The news reports are calling him "the father of D&D," but he was really the father of all role playing games, whether they were played with dice and paper, a deck of cards, or on a computer. Yeah, wargames existed before D&D, and fantasy existed before D&D, but D&D is the game that introduced fantasy gaming to my generation.
I didn’t know him, and never met him, but his impact upon my life can’t be overstated.
To honor his passing, I’d like to share an excerpt from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Geek, from Happiest Days of Our Lives:
December, 1983
I sat on the floor in Aunt Val’s house and opened up her Christmas present to me. It was a red box with a really cool-looking dragon on the front of it. Inside, there were a few books, some dice, a map, and a crayon to color in the dice.
“That’s a game that I hear lots of kids like to play, Willow,” she said. “It’s dragons and wizards and those things you liked from The Hobbit. The back says you use your imagination, and I know what a great imagination you have.” My brother played with Legos and my cousins played with handheld electronic games. I felt a little gypped.
“Wow,” I said, masking my disappointment. “Thanks, Aunt Val!”
Later, while the other kids played with Simon and Mattel Electronic Football, I sat near the fireplace and examined my gift. It said that I could be a wizard or a fighter, but there weren’t any pieces that looked like that. There were a lot of weird dice, but I had to color in the numbers. That seemed silly, but at least it was something to do, so I grabbed the black crayon and rubbed it over the pale blue dice, just like the instructions said.
Aunt Val (who was my favorite relative in the world throughout my entire childhood and right up until she died a few years ago) walked into the living room. “What do you think, Willow?”
“I colored the dice,” I said, and showed her the result. “But I haven’t read the book yet.”
She patted my leg. “Well, I hope you like it.” She moved to the other side of the room, where my cousin Jack poked at a Nintendo Game and Watch.
I opened the Player’s Guide and began to read.
February, 1984
It was afternoon PE in fifth grade, and I was terrified. I ran and jumped and ducked, surrounded by a jeering crowd of my classmates. The PE teacher did nothing to stop the attack – and, in fact, encouraged it.
“Get him!” someone yelled as I fell to the asphalt, small rocks digging into my palms. I breathed hard. Through my adrenaline-fueled flight-or-fight response, the world slowed, the jeering faded, and I wondered to myself why our playground was just a parking lot and why we had to wear corduroy pants in the middle of a Southern California heat wave. Before I could offer any answers, a clear and loud voice spoke from within my head. “Hey,” it said. “You’d better get up and move, or you’re dead.”
I nodded my head and looked up in time to see the red playground ball, spinning in slow motion, as the word “Voit” rotated into view. Pain exploded across my face and a mighty cheer erupted from the crowd. The PE teacher blew her whistle.
I don’t know how I managed to be the last kid standing on our team. I usually ran right to the front of the court so I could get knocked out quickly and (hopefully) painlessly before the good players got worked up by the furor of battle and started taking head shots, but I’d been stricken by a bout of temporary insanity – possibly caused by the heat – on this February day, and I’d actually played to win the game, using a very simple strategy: run like hell and hope to get lucky.
I blinked back tears as I looked up at Jimmie Just, who had delivered the fatal blow. Jimmie was the playground bully. He spent as much time in the principal’s office as he did in our classroom, and he was the most feared dodgeball player at the Lutheran School of the Foothills.
He laughed at me, his long hair stuck to his face in sweaty mats, and sneered. “Nice try, Wil the Pill.”
I picked myself up off the ground, determined not to cry. I sucked in deep breaths of air through my nose.
Mrs. Cooper, the PE teacher, walked over to me. “Are you okay, Wil?” she asked.
“Uh-huh,” I lied. Anything more than that and I risked breaking down into humiliating sobs that would follow me around the rest of the school year, and probably on into sixth grade.
“Why don’t you go wash off your face,” she said, not unkindly, “and sit down for a minute.”
“Okay,” I said. I walked slowly across the blacktop to the drinking fountains. Maybe if I really took my time, I could run out the clock and I wouldn’t have to play another stupid dodgeball game.
January, 1984
Papers scattered across my bed appeared to be homework to the casual observer, but to me they were people. A thief, a couple of wizards, some fighters: a party of adventurers who desperately wanted to storm The Keep on the Borderlands. But without anyone to guide them, they sat alone, trapped in the purgatory of my bedroom, straining behind college-ruled blue lines to come to life.
I tried to recruit my younger brother to play with me, but he was 7, and more interested in Monchichi. The kids in my neighborhood were more interested in football and riding bikes, so I was left to read through module B2 by myself, wandering the Caves of Chaos and dodging Lizard Men alone.
February, 1984
I washed my face and drank deeply from the drinking fountain. By the time I made it back to the benches along the playground’s southern edge, I’d lost the urge to cry, but my face radiated enough heat to compete with the blistering La Crescenta sun.
I sat down near Simon Teele, who, thanks to the wonders of alphabetization, ended up with me and Harry Yan (the school’s lone Asian kid) on field trips, on fire drills, and in chapel. Simon was taller than all of us, wore his hair down into his face, and really kept to himself. He was reading an oversized book that sort of looked like a textbook, filled with charts and tables.
We weren’t officially friends, but I knew him well enough to make polite conversation.
“Hey,” I said. “Why don’t you have to play dodgeball?”
“Asthma,” he said.
“Lucky,” I said. “I hate dodgeball.”
“Everyone hates dodgeball,” he said, “except Jimmie Just.”
“Yeah,” I said, relieved to hear someone else say out loud what I’d been thinking since fourth grade.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you reading?”
He held up the book and I saw its cover: a giant statue, illuminated by torches, sat behind an archway. Two guys were on its head, prying loose one of its jeweled eyes, as a group of people stood at the base. One was clearly a wizard; another was obviously a knight.
“Player’s Handbook,” he said. “Do you play D&D?”
I gasped. According to our ultra-religious school, D&D was Satanic. I looked up for teachers, but none were nearby. A hundred feet away on the playground, another game of dodgeball was underway. I involuntarily flinched when I heard the hollow pang! of the ball as it skipped off the ground.
“You’re going to get in trouble if you get caught with that,” I said.
“No, I won’t,” he said. “If I just keep it turned upside down, they’ll never see it. So do you play or not?”
“I have the red box set,” I said, “and a bunch of characters, but I don’t have anyone to play with.”
“That’s Basic,” he said. “This is Advanced.”
“Oh.”
“But if you want, you could come over to my house this weekend and we could play.”
I couldn’t believe my good luck. With a dodgeball to the face, Fate put me on the bench next to the kid who, over the next few months, helped me take my first tentative steps down the path to geekdom. He had a ton of AD&D books: the Dungeon Master’s Guide, which had a truly terrifying demon on the cover, and would result in certain expulsion if seen at school; the Monster Manual, which was filled with dragons; and the Fiend Folio, which not only had demons and devils, but a harpy and a nymph, accompanied by a drawing of a naked woman! with boobs!!
Simon’s parents were divorced, and he lived with his mom in a huge house in La Canada. His room was filled with evidence of a custody Cold War. Too many toys to count littered the floor and spilled out of the closet, but even though we were surrounded by Atari and Intellivision, GI Joe and Transformers, we had D&D fever, and the only prescription was more polyhedral dice.
Of all the things I do that make me a geek, nothing brings me as much
joy as gaming. It all started with the D&D Basic Set, and today it takes an entire room in my house to contain all of my books, boxes, and dice.
Thank you for giving us endless worlds to explore, Gary Gygax. Rest in peace.
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I did get to meet Gary once, at GenCon 2001. He was really kind to me, and chatted with me while he signed my 1st ed. AD&D DMG. It’s because of him that I know what a brazier is.
Noooooo….it’s not true…I’ll never join you.
Raises arms to heavens…”Khhhhaaaaaannnn!”
Ironically, one of the guys my older brother played with was named Kaan. And it was watching my brother from the doorway that left the impression on me that D&D was cool (little did I suspect how misguided I was…)
It’s remarkable to see how similar our initiations were (although I went out and bought my own red boxed set with my paper route money) and the fascination with the clearly verboten Advanced books…
RIP, Gygax. I hope he had a chance to see the 4th edition before he left the material plane (man, am I nerding out in this comment, and it feels so good…just wait till your book arrives and I’ll be in the Nostalgia Dreaming!)
Alas, if only this world were like the ones he created, if the laws of this universe were as he imagined, we could find a cleric to cast Resurrection. A thousand times a thousand geeks would line up outside the Temple of Boccob in Lake Geneva and offer to undertake any quest, no matter how perilous, in compensation.
May his spirit rest in peace.
Wow.
It is indirectly because of Gary Gygax that I now have the career I have.
I just left a 13 year career in the software industry to pursue life as a novelist. This wouldn’t have happened, except that I discovered that I really enjoy writing and am actually capable of writing novel-length fiction that people don’t hate.
That, in turn, would never have happened except for D&D.
I came late to D&D. It hit the sleepy town of Flagstaff, AZ in 1981 when I was in the 6th grade. Even at that tender age, I was already pigeonholed in to the social outcast bucket-o-lepers category. Yet, being the ironic way my life tends to go, at my school D&D was the purvue of the in crowd and I was definitely not cool enough to play D&D with them. I begged my mom to buy me the game, which she did (I know exactly the basic set boxed edition Wil’s talking about), and didn’t have anyone to play it with. So I let it go.
Fast forward to college. Dorm life. A chance, socially speaking, to roll up a new character, a new me, and start over. One of the guys on my floor was a total D&D junkie, and he was itching to get up a game. I said “hey, I’ve always wanted to play that” and I was in. We played every saturday for a year, and nearly all of us got killed in the grand finale installment of the Temple of Elemental Evil module.
After college, I wanted to try my hand behind the DM’s screens and rounded up some of my geek friends who were itching to play again. But I didn’t want to do stock modules. My players had played them all already, so I made up my own.
And with it, a world, maps, cities, pantheons, nations, back-story, hidden locales, languages, and cultures. It was a hell of a lot of fun, and I DM’ed them through a story-arc every saturday for about three years.
Then in 2005, a buddy at work convinced me to participate in National Novel Writing Month. I didn’t know what I wanted to write, so I fell back on an idea I’d had while DM’ing. To novelize the campaign I had run. After all, I already _knew_ that story–I didn’t have to write it so much as just write it _down_. So I did. I pared down the cast of characters to just the NPCs that mattered to the story arc (my poor PCs never even got cameos), pared down the plot to the essential quest story of those NPCs doing what they needed to do to Right the Tragic Wrong of the past, and 36 days later had a manuscript in my hand and a new vision of what I wanted to do with my life.
Two years and two more manuscripts later, I’m saying siyonara to corporate life to do the starving writer thing.
I’d never have learned that I could write, nor how fun and fulfilling writing can be, without D&D. Thanks, Gary.
Wil, I know you’re still recovering, but do you have any firm plans to put “Happiest Days of Our Lives” on audio? I bought “Just a Geek” that way when it came out and love it. I have much more free time in places where I can listen to my iPod but can’t read, and I’d love to hear your latest that way (this passage from it made me wish for it again). Please make it a priority when your energy level returns to normal. Thanks.
Wil, when I read that he had died you were the first person I thought of. It’s a sad day, indeed. My dice are in mourning…
Wil,
Your story always strikes a chord with me, no matter how many times I read it. I’m sure various situations and places and people can just be swapped in and out by almost any gamer and we’ve all got the same basic story.
If the measure of a man’s life is the amount of joy they brought to the world I can only think there is a very special place set aside for Mr. Gygax.
His work meant so much to me growing up.
As a geek among geeks, it was the COOL geeks that played D&D, and I certainly wasn’t even counted among them.
I nearly cried when, at twelve years old, my dad bought me the Basic Set. I read it constantly, even having it folded in my textbooks so I could read in class. The Expert Set came later. In the 8th grade, I gave up my lunch money to a classmate for 8 weeks to buy his AD&D books. I spent every waking moment pouring over Player’s Handbook, DM Guide, Monster Manual, Fiend Folio, and Deities and Demigods.
You’ll be missed, Gary.
When I saw the news online today I immediately thought of all the people I would not know if there hadn’t been Gary Gygax and D&D and how my life would be different (I wouldn’t have the friends or job I have now without D&D and probably wouldn’t have had such an immediate connection with my other half if we hadn’t had D&D to bond over.). I’m so thankful he existed and brought such a wonderful social tool to my life. I failed my save vs. incredible sadness throw. 🙁
I don’t normally pimp my blog, but my response to this news was very similar to yours, to tell a story about starting to game, set in 1984 😉
If it’s of interest to you, it’s here:
http://thespian.livejournal.com/1160327.html
I wish every kid could have an Aunt Val.
I prefer to think that he has just moved on to the next RPG.
RIP Gary Gygax
E. Gary Gygax died today.
For those who have never heard of him, he was the co-creator of the original Dungeons and Dragons Role-playing game.
This makes me incredibly sad – without DD I wouldn’t be the person who I am today. Gaming has taught
I clearly remember the first orc I shot. D&D had a lot to do with who I am today(I love dodgeball, tho) I remeber in 81 or 82 I wrote Mr Gygax a couple of letters with some questions. He responded on the letters and returned them to me. I still have them. Now they mean even more…..
When I get home from work, I’m pouring out my dice for a fallen homie. Much love for the GG.
It’s never easy being different, but Gary Gygax and his fantastical D&D filled our void by giving us dorks, geeks, freaks and losers a calling. With dice in hand, we found each other, banding together to form a tight-knit community.
Sure, we’re still pretty weird compared to whatever society claims is ‘normal,’ but I’ll take us over them any day.
I’ll miss Gary forever.
I have only been a gamer girl since 1994, but it has been one of the best things I have been a part of in my life. I had never met Mr. Gygax, but I would see him at the GenCons over the years and hear stories from those who had met him. He seemed like a wonderful guy and I am sad that he won’t see the rollout of 4e. At least he had been around for the preview at DDXP…
I had the opportunity to meet Gary at GenCon about 20 years ago. If I recall, it was the first Con after he lost TSR in his divorce. My friend and I were in the dealer room looking for something or other, and there he was, sitting all by himself in the booth of his new company.
We found him very approachable, and after the obligatory book signing requests spent the next 20 minutes or so just chatting with him, although in truth we spent more time discussing alcohol than gaming. He was, at least at that time, quite a drinker. He told us about his local bar and how he didn’t even have to order when he showed up (they had an ice cold stein of gin ready for him as he sat down) and shared with us his favorite aphorism – “Work is the curse of the drinking class.”
Once I got past the “OMG, I’m talking with Gary Gygax” thing, it was great. Here he was, the guy who created fucking D&D, just sitting and chatting with a young couple he’d just met. He was excited about his new company, and their new game, Cyborg Commando.
After we left, we found a place making custom engraved pins. The next day we stopped back and gave him one. “Work is the curse of the drinking class” Every time we ran into him that weekend he was wearing it.
The world is a less magical place today.
I was sitting in the back office of my Game Store, eating lunch and reading Mr. Gygax’s Wikipedia article, when it hit me like a freight train that without his work…I wouldn’t be sitting in the back of my game store. I vividly remember 3rd grade, sitting at recess (every recess) playing D&D for the short periods we had. We couldn’t get enough. I suppose in a greater sense, I still haven’t.
I wouldn’t own a game store and wouldn’t have YEARS of memories
Thank you Gary Gygax. You sure did do an awful lot for us.
If you haven’t already seen it, Gabe at Penny-Arcade drew this up:
http://www.penny-arcade.com/comic/2008/03/04
I still remember walking around Jr. High, playing diceless between classes. It was a great challenge because you had to keep the map in your head, remembering which way that treasure room was and the best escape route from the ogres you’d just stumbled across. I also remember having twice the books at my disposal because my best friend’s mom was convinced D&D was satanic, so he kept his books at my house.
A lifetime of my memories can trace their roots to the creations of Gary Gygax.
Roll well on your new character, Gary. You can join the party again.
I commented earlier, but reading everyone elses comments sent me off on a journey remembering my D & D days.
My hubby and I bonded in our group before we started dating. He was gnome with a tendency to be a clepto. I was a mage. He saved me with his cloak of invisibility once and 15 years and 4 kids later, here we are. This game brought us together. We’re still friends with the people we played with. I have nothing but fond memories. Our original DM kind of turned us off when he brought in other people who were not cool, so one of our members decided to break out on our own and DM us herself and we had the most fun then. She actually got me started gaming. She took me to the comic book store to pick out a figure. Then I had to get the right paint and I painted that thing that night. She had long red hair, a burgundy and green vest, and brown pants and knee high boots. And a staff. I named her Gwyneth and I still have her. ALong with polyhedral dice. They are my most prized possessions. Were it not for this game, I would never have met my husband and had the 4 beautiful children I have now. One of them is a geek like me, but my 2 boys are into my hubby’s old game of Might & Magic for the PC. I think we’ll turn them on to D & D now…
My “Red Box” was actually the boxed set of MERP, I still take it out of storage in the attic every now and then remembering afternoons spent adventuring with my mates or late nights fueled by several cups of tea designing ruined keeps to explore.
Without Gygax and D&D, MERP or the many other rpgs I played (and still play) might never have existed and for that I’m truly grateful for his work. In a poignant way it was fitting that he passed away on “GM’s day”.
Keep on rolling 20’s in the Astral Plane, Gary. I will catch ya on the flip side and bring the Mountain Dew.
Great tribute.
Propelled!
http://tech.propeller.com/story/2008/03/04/wwdn-in-exile-across-the-sea-a-pale-moon-rises/
Badly as I wanted to be a hardcore D&D player when I was in middle school, my town was just too small, and my friend Mike & I were the only kids interested. And neither of us wanted to be the Dungeon Master. And yet we still managed to have a blast faking our way through “The Lost City” and “The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh”, and spent many many hours at each others’ houses soaking up the pages of the rule books and the Monster Manual and the Fiend Folio.
You see, these are the posts that I can most identify with. I lived in Phoenix at the same time and you paint out of the same paintbox I use for my memories. Wheaton you are a brother.
Failed my save vs stun also. Thanks for the system Gary! d20’s still thunder, percentile’s charted.
My cousin, who was older and lived far away, introduced me to D&D on one of his visits. I had no one to play with for ages as being a bookish misfit and a girl was a double strike against me. But I read the manual I had from cover to cover on my own. I eventually found some friends to play with. Boys who judged me by my ability to play D&D and handle the gaming group’s python mascot, rather than my inability to throw a ball well.
I eventually moved on to RPG video games as my primary source of gaming entertainment.
Now, so many years later, I’m a gamer, married to a gamer.
Thanks Gary Gygax. May you rest in peace.
This hit me hard. Harder than I’d have thought. I’ve been a gamer for 20+ years and it’s been a big part of my life.
My closest friends have always been other gamers. I worked in and managed a game store during and after college. I’m still friends with gamers from that time.
On arriving to Fort Wayne 11 years ago, I didn’t know anyone except the woman who is now my wife. I found some guys to game with and that has been the foundation for most of my friendships here.
I’ve got a full life and have done lots of things and gaming is just a small part of it anymore, but I know it led me into some of the best friendships and best times I’ve had.
And we wouldn’t have had D&D or any other RPG without Mr. Gygax. He was at a con in Fort Wayne several years ago and ran a game of D&D. I wasn’t able to get in the game, but I really wish I had.
Gygax’s legacy is a lot more than being the guy who invented D&D. This is a guy who created a whole subculture of geeks.
I’m going to tip one in his honor tonight and look thru my copy of “The Keep On The Borderlands”. RIP Gary.
In some ways, I was less lucky than you – I didn’t discover D&D until my Sophmore year of high school. I wasn’t even reading fantasy or sci-fi before my Freshman year, but was very lucky to find friends in high school who played. It’s been a part of my life ever since, and one of those friends (the first and best one, honestly) is still someone I go visit every chance I get, even though he’s half a country away and his cigarette smoke usually gives me a killer migraine if we game together all night. He still DM’s a weekly session at one of the local game parlors back in the sleepy military base town where we met.
That friend, with Mr. Gygax’s help, is a big part of who I am today.
For me, it must’ve been 1981 or 82 and I was 8 (or 9). At a family gathering in Vail, CO, an older cousin of mine had the Monster Manual (sky blue cover, pictures of trolls?). I was enthralled and begged for my mom to buy it for me. It was fun to try to deduce the system from the monster descriptions. Later I got numerous box sets, books, and subscribed to Dragon magazine for a really long time. Friends and I carried out campaigns, late nights, all the usual. For me, it represents that amazing evening you had when you were 14 with friends were you ordered pizzas and played RPGs and Wargames on the dining room table until 2 in the morning. Yes, “the happiest days of our lives” indeed.
I came late to the RPG party – somehow not starting until I was in college! There were plenty of boys in my neighborhood who played D&D when I was a kid, but I always assumed that no one would want ME to join in.
But once I did start playing games, I really wished I had had the guts to ask someone if I could have joined, way back when.
I learned about today’s sad news at work, this afternoon. Coincidentally enough, I had just been playing with the giant plush d20 I keep at my desk.
I must have looking rather dumbstruck, as my coworker came over and asked me if I was OK…
Happy trails, Mr. Gygax! Thanks for helping to free my imagination from its dungeon!
safe travels in the outer planes, GG.
i’ll drink to you tonight in the undercity, and think back to those years – hunting for treasure and glory in the keep on the borderlands, keeping the healing dice primed and ready. thank you, sir. for all of it.
This news brings tears to the eye of a ‘personal stranger’ who nevertheless feels a remote friendship. Mr. Gygax’s death is a great loss.
Reading most of your posts makes me feel like an ‘old’ gamer as I didn’t discover the joys of RPGs until I was in my early 30’s and introduced to D&D by my nephews who came to stay the weekend with their cousins. After about an hour of listening to the ‘kids’ (12-16 years) this old lady asked if she could roll up her own character and join. Talk about some freaked out kids!
That first game was great and had me hooked. I went on to play and host many a D&D weekend at our house for anywhere from 2 to8 players. My husband would chase us all off to bed around 6am and breakfast ‘at Aunty’s Inn’
The games and all night weekends at Aunt Shanon’s house still remain topics of conversation and fond memories when the ‘kids’ all have the rare chance to get together now 15 years later!
So long Gary! Campaign Complete.
Really awesome tribute, Wil!
I have three older brothers who got me into it, and two of them still play. So does my s-i-l Susan, whom you met on one of the Trek cruises to Alaska I believe. I think you played Magic with her and her husband John.
XOXOXOXOX
Suzanne Lanoue
The TV MegaSite
http://tvmegasite.net
Yeah…you nailed it Wil.
My version: http://www.bynkii.com/archives/2008/03/goodbye_gary.html
Wil, you hit it on the nail. I saw this on boing boing this morning (well…it’s morning over here in Malaysia) and was smitten. Mr. Gygax will be mourned.
Those folks at Blizzard owe their millions to him.
When I heard the news, the first thing I thought was, “I wonder how Wil Wheaton will blog about this.”
I haven’t gamed in years, but I still have my dice. And to this day, the Friday-afternoon D&D group my friends and I had in 7th and 8th grade remains the best-organized, well-run activity I’ve ever been involved with.
RIP, Mr. Gygax. And thank you.
Wil – that was a fantastic teaser and utterly appropriate – thank you for sharing.
One comment, which I hope you’re willing to reply to. “Simon’s parents were divorced, and he lived with his mom in a huge house in La Canada. His room was filled with evidence of a custody Cold War. Too many toys to count littered the floor and spilled out of the closet, but even though we were surrounded by Atari and Intellivision, GI Joe and Transformers . . ”
Being as we’re both step-parents, witnesses to custody cold wars, but from homes where out parents remain married (and silly enough, still love each other) – how do you feel about this statement when you examine it separately?
I used to think that I and my son’s extended family over-indulged the child with toys in compensation or competition. But now that I have a daughter with my wife, that observation appears to be completely erroneous. Both my kids, may they know their blessings some day, are almost drowning in toys and other amusements.
That was a lovely tribute. I never met Gary in person, but my dad worked for TSR so he was a household name. It makes me so sad to see my father’s colleagues, the characters in the stories of my youth, fading away.
I weep.
Gygax is gone. My companion, when no one… well, everyone here knows what I would say.
But I cannot find my 2nd Edition DM guide with the totally awesome single player role your own dungeon rules in the back of the book. And I weep all the more.
Thank you Mr. Gygax for your important contribution to our world. If not for imaginative persons like your self , many of todays RPGs including the one I am a participant in (freeform Star Trek RP on myspace) may not have even happened. You will be missed.
Awesome tribute Wil! Drops Dark Side of the Moon hat in memoriam.
Oh noes. Saw the news on Wall Street Journal online, and knew that Wil’s blog would be The Place to Air It All Out. Indeed. His imaginings inspired so many great stories we created together.
Myself, my rogue PCs Roaen, Denali, Garwan, and Tholos Lunk, and my crafty NPC Marron Stex now hold a long moment of silence in E.G.G.’s memory.
“With a dodgeball to the face, Fate put me on the bench next to the kid who, over the next few months, helped me take my first tentative steps down the path to geekdom.”
That gave me chills, Wil. Thanks to people like Gary Gygax, and you, and countless others, we’re loud and we’re proud. Rest in peace, Gary.
Never played D&D, but the clarity of your excerpt finally drove me to comment.
I absolutely hate your politics, but you are an excellent, emotive, and detailed writer.
Your recall of childhood, which most of us either discarded or repressed, is very impressive and makes for wonderful storytelling.
I always look forward to reading your blog and have enjoyed your books. I also congratulate you on having success with the sinus surgery that I sought but was told would be almost assuredly unsuccessful.
Continued success!
Great story there, Wil. As soon as I finish my current stack of books-to-read, I’ll definitely read one of yours.
My experience was different, and the same. You nailed it Wil. I have to admit I’m crying, Gary’s influence on my life was/is monumental. Thank you so much for the best and most appropriate eulogy he could hope for.
Fail saving roll.
Lament.
From ‘i can has cheez burger’.
http://icanhascheezburger.com/2008/03/04/dnd-kitteh-morns-loss-of-gary-gygax/
A very sad day.
That’s just too sad.
I never got to play when I was younger, but do as an adult.
My first time was with a group of 5. We played once a week, up into the wee hours.
I still have the posterboards with all of our drawings. All the x’s of creatures killed, all the places we had to go through.
This one game last well over a year. It was awesome.
I kept a journal of all our adventures with details about our loot, kills, etc.
The movie Dungeons & Dragons came out while we were playing. I was seeing our characters in real life. I knew what all the cool magikal stuff was.
Playing D & D is one of the best times of my life.