50,000 Monkeys at 50,000 Typewriters Can't Be Wrong
This is crying out for a caption. I'll choose my favorite, and send something neat* to whoever writes it. Submissions open throughout the weekend, one per person, and can only be left as comments here (it's too difficult to track on Twitter or via e-mail).
*definition of 'neat' will be at my sole discretion.
Munchkin, from Steve Jackson Games, is a fairly polarizing game, especially at BGG, where people tend to love it or hate it. I love it, mostly from playing some truly memorable games with my kids over the years.
Nolan was to my right. He kicked in a door and didn't find a monster, so he looked for trouble, playing a level 3 something from his hand. "Does anyone want to mess with me?" He asked, avoiding looking in my direction.
"It's funny you should ask," I said. "That's an illusion. You're actually fighting a level 18 Squidzilla." I played the appropriate cards.
"Oh, okay." Nolan pulled a card from his hand. "It's now enraged, so it gets an additional treasure." He pulled another card from his hand. "And with this Polymorph Potion, it turns into a parrot and flies away." He paused dramatically. "And I take five treasures."
"OHHH!" Ryan and Michael said.
"Man, that's a really great move," I said. "Too bad I'm playing Annihilation on it."
He was forced to discard the potion, and face the Enraged Squidzilla on his own.
"OHHH!" Ryan and Michael said."
"Okay, then." Nolan said. "I guess I'm running away."
We all laughed. Nolan rolled a one. He stopped laughing. We looted his body. There was much rejoicing. (Well, there was 3/4 rejoicing.)
I've talked to lots of people at cons and stuff who haven't played Munchkin, but have read about me playing it, and were curious about it.
The best way to learn a new game, in my extremely humble and unassailably correct opinion, is to jump right in and play it with experienced players (note that this is yet another reason the Friendly Local Gameshop is such an important part of our ecosystem). But sometimes, that just isn't possible or practical … and the webmonkeys and interzombies at SJ Games have created a playable flash demo of Munchkin, based on the Rigged Demo they've been running at cons for years, just for you.
"Let me in from the cold. Turn my lead into gold. Because there's a chill wind blowing through my soul, and I think I'm growing old." -Pink Floyd.
In addition to Project Do Something Creative Every Day for the Rest of the Year, I am in the middle of Project Exercise Every Day For The Rest of the Year You Lazy Fat Bastard. I mentioned this on RFB31: I'm using the Seinfeld "mark the calendar every day" method, and not breaking the chain is proving to be a great motivator for me.
Late yesterday morning, Anne came into my office and asked me if I wanted to take Seamus for a walk around our neighborhood.
"Yeah, that would be great," I said. "I'm stuck on this thing I'm writing, anyway, and I think the change of scenery will be helpful."
Seamus is part Great Dane, so he is really dopey when he's excited. He does this little walk where he keeps his back legs mostly straight, and sort of springs along on just the fronts of his back paws. I'm not describing it correctly (though Dane owners may know what I'm talking about), but it's just adorable. We call it his happy prance.
Seamus did the happy prance to the side kitchen door, and sat down in what we call his super good sit pose while Anne and I put on our walking shoes.
A few minutes later, we were walking down our street. It was a beautiful day, with just enough chill in the air to hang around in the shadows, but run away from the late morning sunshine everywhere else.
Anne held his leash while he trotted along the curb, sniffing at mail boxes and patches of grass that seemed to contain Mysterious Things That Only Dogs Know About And Are Very Interested In.
"I love that the leaves have changed early this year," Anne said, pointing to a maple tree that was covered with yellow and red leaves. "Last year they didn't change until almost Christmas."
She grew up in Oregon, and while she doesn't miss the weather, I know she misses being in a place that actually has seasons more varied than HOT and NOT QUITE AS HOT.
"Yeah, I noticed that yesterday. We're going to have serious leaf piles whenever it decides to get windy."
"Serious leaf piles are serious."
I chuckled, and appreciated the reference.
Two blocks away from our street, the gutters were filled with leaves, about ankle deep. I delighted in walking though them, kicking them around, crunching them beneath my feet.
Anne and I were talking about the things you talk about when you're out walking your dog. She said, "hey, would you tone it down on the leaves? I can't hear myself think."
"Sorry," I said. "Serious leaf stomping is serious."
We stayed out of the gutters until we got to the corner of our street, and walked down the middle of it back to our house.
"How's your story coming?" Anne asked.
"I'm about halfway done, I think, and I hope to finish it today. This one's definitely going to need a re-write, though."
I feel pretty good about doing a draft, leaving it for a day or so, and coming back to it to give it a polish before releasing it. It may not seem like a very big deal, but just doing that and not being so paralyzed by The Fear of Failure has been a real challenge for me. But, like I said the other day, the point of Project Do Something Creative Every Day for the Rest of the Year isn't to be perfect; it's to be creative … and to just keep going.
"That's good," she said.
"Yep. I'm probably going to just lock myself in the office and go to Mysterious Writer Island for the rest of the afternoon."
"Okay."
We got back to our house, and my phone rang. It was my manager. "Hey, do you think you can go to [PLACE] for [AWESOME VOICE OVER AUDITION] at 3:30 today?"
"I would love to do [AWESOME CHARACTER I LOVE], but I think my voice is too old. Would you make sure they know I can't play too young?"
"I'll do that, but I think you'll be fine because [THING YOU CAN'T TELL ANYONE]."
We have very interesting conversations, guys. This is actually how we talk, and I am totally not just saying that because [CLEVER THING].
"Ohhh. Neat. Okay. I'll go at 3:30."
I looked at Anne. "Dude! [AWESOME STUFF ABOUT THIS PROJECT THAT I HAVE TO KEEP SECRET]!"
"Woah, cool!"
"Yeah, so I'm going to go do that in … holy crap, two hours."
I went to my office, printed out the audition sides, and prepared. I briefly looked at the blinking cursor in my text editor, and the blank space in front of it, and down the page.
"I'll get back to you later," I said, quietly. "I'm going to go do something else creative today."
I drove to the audition, where I saw my friends Chris Hardwick and Phil Morris.
"You know, it's weird," I said to Chris, "I didn't get any of the messages you sent me about how you were going to interview Matt Smith on your podcast, so I should totally come over and hang out."
He laughed. "That's so weird, because … I …. uh … totally did that."
He told me that Matt Smith was as awesome as we all hoped he would be, and that if he gets anyone else from Doctor Who in the future, I would totally get to come hang out. Then he grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me around, pretending to sob while saying, "You have to come on my podcast! The podcast can't go on without you!"
Again, I'm not describing it well, but it was really funny.
Before we could agree on a time to do it, he was called in to do his audition. Sorry, Nerdist listeners, but we'll figure it out soon.
After Chris went inside, I talked about comics with Phil. I don't know how many people know this, but Phil is a huge comic reader. His collection is just breathtaking, and his love of the artform and all the stories from the last forty years is infectious.
We got all excited about Irredeemable and The Boys, but before we could descend into The Android's Dungeon, Chris was finished and it was Phil's turn to go in.
I said goodbye to Chris, and looked over my scenes. The character is right in my wheelhouse, and everything I need to know about him and his relationships was right on the page, so I was mostly making sure I was just familiar with the scenes, instead of doing real work on them. NOTE TO ACTORS: If you get the material ahead of time, and you're still working on it when you're waiting to go in, you're doing it wrong. You have to be prepared before you even get in your car to go to the audition.
Phil came out and I went in. I talked through the glass to the director when I got into the booth.
"Do you have any questions?"
"Nope. It's all on the page, so I'll give you my take on it, and make whatever adjustments you want."
"Great. Let's do it."
I did the audition, and … I had a lot of fun! I felt confident, prepared, and able to understand and apply the direction they gave me. I think this is entirely because of my recent work on Ben 10: Alien Force and Batman: The Brave and the Bold, where I've been fortunate enough to work with incredibly talented actors and one of the best voice directors in the business.
I didn't feel like I was stretching or reaching or struggling to create a voice and a character for this guy; I felt like I was working with the director to do the best I could do. I'm sure there are actors who feel like this on every audition, but I'm not one of them, and I was grateful for the experience. Everyone on the other side of the glass seemed happy with what I did, and I felt really good about it. There are a ton of reasons I may not book this job, but not doing the best I could do won't be one of them.
I drove home, somehow falling between pockets of rush hour traffic, in just under 25 minutes. When I walked in the house, the dogs met me at the door.
"Hi dogs," I said. They thumped their tails against the wall, happily.
"How did it go?" Anne asked me.
"I had a great time, and I feel really good about it," I said. "Even if I don't book the job, I can be proud of what I did today."
"That's awesome."
"Yeah, I'm really happy."
I walked into my office, and sat down at my desk. I looked at the blinking cursor, the blank space around and beneath it unchanged. As soon as I put my fingers on the keys, though, I knew that nothing was going to come out of my brain.
"That's okay," I said to myself, "I've done something creative today." I made a mark on my calendar. "And I exercised, too!" I made another mark.
I looked at the chain: only eight days long, but unbroken. I'm not going to lie to you, Marge: it felt good.
Ryan was home for Thanksgiving, and as part of Operation Make The Most Out of Having My Entire Family Together for a Few Days, the four of us went out to dinner early Saturday evening.
After we put in our drink orders, I got up to wash my hands. On my way to the washroom, I passed a mom and two kids at a table near the back of the restaurant. The kids were a boy and a girl, probably about 8 and 12. The mom appeared to be in her late 30s. I noticed that she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. I wondered if she was divorced, and this was part of her weekend with the kids.
The boy was holding a Nintendo DS up, furiously smashing the buttons. The girl was wearing headphones, and watching something on a device that was either an iPod or iPhone. The woman, who I assumed was their mother, looked sad and resigned. My heart ached for them all, as I passed them.
When I got back to our table, I put my arm around Nolan and hugged him.
"What was that for?" He said.
"For coming out to dinner with us, and actually being here. It really means a lot to me that we're actually together, and not just sitting at the same table."
"Uhhh, okay," he said.
I kissed the top of his head. "I love you."
"Okay, Wil," he said, not unkindly, "I love you too."
He and Ryan shared one of those "Wil's being sentimental again" looks that I've seen so often over the last decade or so.
Nolan stage whispered to Ryan, "He is so weird."
I looked over at Ryan. "I'm so glad you're home."
"Me too."
Anne and I shared one of those "we sure do have an awesome family" looks that we've shared so often over the last decade or so.
The Lords of Shirt.woot heard our prayers, and have brought my shirt, (or, as I like to call it, Critical Mass), back for the holidays!!
Real quick history lesson: I designed this shirt, that I really love, for shirt.woot last year. It was pretty damn popular, but was overtaken by other awesome designs in the Reckoning, and was sent off to a farm where it could run around and play with other shirts. I was super bummed (and a little angry) when it died, because I didn't get a chance to cast a single healing spell on it … but today, it's been given a second chance at life.
I'm super excited that they're doing this, because I can replace mine (there was an unfortunate incident when I failed a DEX check and took ongoing stain damage that not even the washing machine could end), but also because we've improved the design a little bit for the reprint.
When I thought up this design, I wanted it to look very similar to the old D&D sourcebooks that I loved as a kid. To that end, I suggested thin, dark lines to hold it all together. In theory, this is awesome; in practice, it's pretty easy to lose the thin black lines on the dark grey shirt. Unfortunately, I didn't realize or consider this until I'd seen it a few thousand times on other people at conventions all over the place. So when I was contacted about doing as a reprint for the holidays, I suggested that we make the lines a little heavier, and make them white instead of black. The crew at shirt.woot waved their magic wands, and it was done.
Here's what the revised design looks like:
By the way, your DM told me that if you wear this to the next session, you get +2 on the roll of your choice.