orrynemrys

Stories are Signposts

I first met Kevin in 2006. He was a dear friend of my future wife’s and lived with her in this old Victorian place just left of downtown Wichita. He was actually in the process of buying the place – not because he was driven to own a home, precisely, but because Miss Jonikka had fallen in love with the house when her Ex purchased it. Now the relationship that secured the domicile was in its death throws, and Kevin knew that staying there would keep a roof over their heads and make Jonikka happy.

Sadly, the house that Jonikka truly loved wasn’t the one they lived in, but what it was capable of being… But that is definitely a different story.

What’s notable is that this kind of passion for simple joys was something that drove Kevin in many of his endeavors. He had much of the depth and wisdom that comes with age, but tempered with childlike wonder and a playfulness that left little question in my mind how he had become such an important part of Miss Jonikka’s life. He could go from prattling on about his favorite childhood television serial or comic book hero to stunningly deep philosophical meanderings without ever stopping for gas along the way. He loved to explore ethos and pathos of the stories that shaped our lives, and he penned a blog that dove head first into the way stories affected our lives over the generations with themes that appeared again and again in different cultures, era, and mythologies.

Kevin was a multicultural enthusiast who loved to see people celebrated for who they are. He saw a bit of the world when he was younger and even married a lady from China. They had four children, and he would often share stories of their youth; he clearly loved being a father. He also shared stories of his time in the Navy, likely watching the skies as much for changes in the weather as for signs of UFO activity. He would teach a course on UFO sightings and the possibility of other life in the universe on Tuesday, and then another debunking extraterrestrial testimony on Wednesday – and he reveled in the paradox. Kevin was someone who sought to penetrate the illusions and lay bare the truth of men, but still saw beauty in both the illusions and the truths.

Kevin was 61 years young when my son was born in 2008, and I think the only reason I didn’t recognize the radical metamorphosis Gabriel brought into his life was because I was busy contending with my own. He became a caretaker, then an earnest playmate. In many ways I had never been a child – I’d been so intellectual and introspective as a kid that I didn’t really connect with my peers, and my only real playmate was my younger brother. Conversely, in many ways Kevin had elected to hold on to the child inside, and now he finally had a way to indulge in it. He shared his passions with Gabriel, and celebrated his passions in return. He bought the kid about 17,000 dinosaur toys over the years, and even as Gabriel grew into a preteen and later a teenager they spoke almost every day. They would tell stories together, make up fanciful worlds and heroic adventures…

*Ahem* Not unlike, well….

Strangely, I was never jealous of their connection. Perhaps because I couldn’t have been that person in my son’s life, and I was just truly overjoyed that somebody else was. I know Gabriel and I would find a balance of our own – and we have. He’s a remarkably loving and compassionate child, thanks in no small part to his best friend.

KEVIN PATRICK BREEN passed away on Friday, April 14, 2023, surrounding by his children and grandchildren and in the company of his best friend. He has touched the lives of my family in ways that will never fade, and he will always be remembered for his passion, his love of life, and the joy he always tried to shoehorn into everybody’s lives – whether they were ready for it or not.

Gen Con 2021 | Denouement

Day Four of my Gen Con experience was a somewhat subdued affair. I had other commitments to attend to – primarily schoolwork, with weekend deadlines that cared not for my extracurriculars – but it also gave me a much-needed opportunity to reflect on the week thus far.

I received more than a few sad glances this weekend from contemporaries who learned that this was my very first Gen Con. Admittedly, I rather expected more, though I can’t be sure it would have significantly altered my plans, such as they were. Many events and features that would have stood out in previous years were absent or compromised this year, often simply because the organizers were not present. In some ways, that really did enhance the feeling that this was just a very large-scale version of what we do at home. There was gaming, vendors, VIGs, demos, cosplayers, more gaming, and even Mikey Mason – though I sadly didn’t get the chance to catch a show or even hang out with the dude.

On the other hand… scale matters. I purchased a few games that I had never seen, perused arts and crafts from dozens of amazing exhibitors, caught up with industry friends like Bruce Cordell, Chris Pramas, and Phil Reed – and made new friends in Tammy and Charles from Monte Cook Games, and Will and Annie at the Steve Jackson booth! – had a chance to game with some gentlemen Peter met at a Kansas City con (who may make it out to TsunamiCon next year), had a chance to sample a few of downtown Indy’s excellent restaurants, and spent a few days hanging out with an old friend whom I haven’t seen in several years (and then only via webcam!). Not to mention, I had a lovely weekend hanging out with Peter, listening to stories and sharing ideas; he harbors a deep and abiding passion for Gen Con – which he shared generously – and was an excellent guide in unfamiliar waters.

On Day Four, I took one last lap through the dealer room, in the final hour it was open. I made a few more purchases – marked down at the very end of the con – and picked up some more gifts for the kids. Peter and I wound down the evening with an excellent cognac and a little of the amazing cheese he drives to the Wichita Costco to procure and turned in early, and now I am restless and awake after only a few hours of sleep. But I’m not really doing much of the driving today, so it’s cool. I’m just ready to be home.

All in all, this has been a really enjoyable weekend with old friends and new, and I’m eternally grateful for the opportunity to visit Indianapolis and my very first Gen Con.

Salut.

Gen Con 2021 | Day Three

Saturday was unsurprisingly the busiest day yet. Though still not thick enough to inhibit traffic, social distancing was a significant challenge in the dealer hall. I dutifully spent some time navigating the shoals and surveying the nearby shores for ports of call and a chance at more booty. I stopped at a few places to chat about their product, get the occasional quick demo, and record conversations with some folks. The crowds were frankly exhausting, however, and I was just as happy to make some final purchases at the Dryad Teas booth and pick up a few enamel pins that had caught my eye, then catch up with Dan for a long overdue podcast.

One of the nice things about having a room at one of the hotels attached to the con was that it was an easy walk to somewhere quiet. Dan and I took some time to organize our thoughts and discuss our Gen Con experience, after which we parted ways – presumably for the last time – and I took a much-needed siesta.

I met Peter for dinner at the Weber Grill. I won’t be gauche enough to post pictures of my food, but I don’t think I’m overstating it to say that I had the best burger of my life. If you’re ever in downtown Indianapolis, do yourself a favor… it was pricey, but an experience all it’s own.

After dinner I realized that I had committed the unforgivable sin of neglecting to grab a selfie with Dan. This was our very first meeting face-to-face after nearly a decade of friendship, and I was devastated until I discovered that he had not yet fled the convention center. I quickly made my way back following dinner, and we relaxed in a quiet corner of the con for another hour or so.

So while I didn’t play any games on Day Three, I collected a good deal of media to share with friends and fans and spent some valuable time enjoying the convention. I don’t know if I’ll even have anything significant to discuss on Day Four, but I’m more than content with my first – and quite possibly but hopefully not, only – trip to Gen Con.

Gen Con 2021 | Day Two

My second day of Gen Con was kind of a blur.

In the morning, Peter and I had breakfast at Le Peep, a provincial cafe just a mile’s walk from the hotel. And walk we did. After the travails of the prior day, I was frankly astounded at my ability to keep up. On the way there, anyway… I was quietly grateful when Peter felt the need to rush out a bit quickly following breakfast, making for the hotel to grab the gear for his high noon festivities. I took the opportunity to mosey toward the convention center at my own pace, enjoying the morning air as I snapped photos of downtown Indianapolis.

Back at the convention center, I hit the dealer hall and made some more gift purchases I had been eying the day before. Mostly supporting artists and indie game designers. I ran a 12:00 game for Monte Cook Games with a fun group of players who, despite having to shout through the masks to make themselves heard in a noisy room, took to roleplaying their random group of dungeon delvers with enough personality and wit to quite simply amaze me at how efficiently they tackled the adventure scenario. It was a four-hour slot, and we were done in three.

Riding the high of a great game with folks who genuinely seemed to enjoy sitting down with a few strangers and pretending to be the best of friends for a few hours, I made arrangements to connect with Dan and we hit a nearby pub for a late lunch. Or early dinner. Whatever it was… the convention center food was pretty awful, so walking the extra two blocks seemed like a kindness to our bodies and our souls. Had a barbecue blue cheese burger, incidentally, that was a fascinating and very satisfying blend of flavors. Good stuff.

Our evening game was a Savage Worlds Victorian pulp adventure Peter has run at TsunamiCon previously, and this was my very first chance to sit at one of his gaming tables. I definitely enjoyed his thoughtful approach to getting characters involved in the story and his openness to creative – and sometimes tropey and hilarious – innovations from the players. It was the same group of participants from the night before, and we had a good time.

Friday at Gen Con was a much busier affair than the previous day, and the gaming hall was pretty packed. The space between tables kept it from feeling unsafe, but we also started noting a more lax stance amongst participants concerning the masking regulations, particularly when you could invoke the consideration of eating. We roleplayed through our masks, but many people seemed to adopt a sort of restaurant etiquette at the table – that is, despite the policies posted by the con, once sitting down masks seemed to be optional. Because the place was so crowded, this felt like a poor decision… I was imminently relieved that the table Peter had grabbed – the same as the night before – was somewhat remote and removed from much of the population. I could see that he was distracted by it while running the game, however, even to the point of mentioning my own dangling mask after I failed to put it back promptly following a pull from my soda.

And I think that’s what bothers me the most. While it feels like it is possible to make relatively safe decisions and avoid the majority of risky situations with a little conscientious care, we shouldn’t have to walk that edge while trying to enjoy our time at the convention. Though I am enjoying myself immensely, it casts a bit of a pall over much of the experience.

That being said, I am looking forward to whatever comes next.

Gen Con 2021 | Day One

One of three Chessex booths at Gen Con 2021

After wandering to wakefulness at around 4:00 in the morning (would have been 3:00 back home!), I finally gave up on sleep and resolved to begin my day with a clear head and a cup of Lapsang Souchong. Nice face full of wood smoke and happiness. I hadn’t had a chance to test it, but my new little travel tea kettle worked beautifully.

I eased into my first day of the con. Though events were starting at 8:00, my primary interest for Day One was the exhibit hall, which opened two hours later. Also, given the COVIDs, I didn’t want to risk the traditionally packed opening ceremony shtick and gave it an extra half an hour or so. I took my video camera and started recording immediately as I was leaving the hotel via one of the skywalks over toward the convention center. No one seemed to give me much thought as they maneuvered around me or trudged in my wake, but I did find it interesting that conversations would die as people ventured near, so as not to disrupt the production I assume. Or be caught on tape being an insufferable nerd or something.

All in all,, folks were terribly polite.

And masked! And largely keeping their distance. This was – and still is – my biggest concern about this trip. Beyond a mask mandate and a general attempt to space tables further apart, the convention has taken no extraordinary measures toward crowd control or health and safety. The up side (depending on whether you sit on the convention board, that is) is that the crowds are significantly diminished per their expectations – and they had planned to limit capacity to half of the previous in-person convention. Word is, it’s nowhere close. Although that hardly means that the crowd is small – we’re still probably talking between 15 and 20K, but the immensity of the convention halls and additional spacing allows for much greater freedom of movement than I was given to expect going in. And like I said, the attendees are generally taking the mask thing very seriously.

That immensity, by the way, made my first day at Gen Con a truly surreal experience. I was floored by the expanse filled with gaming tables, walls so far away that I could barely register them as such. I spent hours wandering the dealer hall, stopping occasionally to snap a few photos, purchase some gifts for my gamers, and visiting with industry folks I’ve known for years but never met in person. Truly, I only stopped when I did because I was starving and my feet had registered a complaint with home office.

After a brief nap, some lovely thai food, another brief nap… I geared up for my first game of the con. And by geared up, I really just meant a bag of dice, as I wasn’t running this one.

The game was Deadlands Reloaded, and my character was a great explore / big game hunter named Rufus who talked through his mustaches and acted absolutely fearless in the face of exploding dice. The best part, I got to game with the Honorable Peter Hildreth, my guide on this sojourn to Indianapolis, and my friend Dan from the Carpe GM podcast. Dan found out I was going to Gen Con and made the trek from St. Louis – admittedly a less harrowing trip than ours – to hang out. We’d visited many times over the past six or seven years and used to have regular rap sessions over Google Hangouts, recorded bits for each other’s shows, shared industry information and guest contacts, and even collaborated on some jams! But this was our first face-to-face meet ever. And sharing a game table was a fantastic way to start the weekend.

It was midnight before I turned in, still riding high just a bit from the Day One experience.

Gen Con 2021 | Arrival

We arrived at the hotel near 5:00 on Wednesday evening. At first blush, little sets Indianapolis apart from any other middle American city. A detour on the highway even routed us through a graffiti-enhanced smidgeon of urban sprawl that disappeared instantly as we crossed the river into the downtown area, which sports some very cool architecture.

Our hotel is attached to the convention center via a skywalk – a system of which appears to connect several hotels and nearby buildings criss-crossing the immediate vicinity – and we wasted little time after checking in heading over to the con to get our badges. I walked for half a day to the room where I picked up my press pass, stopped to water my camels and pick stones from between the toes of my favorite Sherpa, and meandered for several days more toward the orientation for GMs running events for Monte Cook Games. I have games scheduled for Friday and Sunday, which blessedly leaves me much time to wrap my head around the Gen Con experience before I settle into the time-honored tradition of performing graciously for a table of complete strangers with a blood lust in their eye.

I met up with my traveling companion and erstwhile guide in these unknown waters, and we ventured even further on foot to an Italian restaurant where they serve spaghetti and meatballs on a plate the size of a small battleship. With a heartfelt arrivederci to my dietary goals, I did my best to balance my consumption with the inevitable brisk walk back to the hotel. I was pseudo-successful… my Sherpa only had to revive me once, and that was following a brief rockslide incited by rapacious scooter-fiends roaming the city sidewalks to the beat of native buskers beating plastic tubs that echoed eerily beneath the skywalks.

Having had a chance to peruse the maps provided in the Gen Con program – and noting that events span both floors of the massive convention center and four surrounding hotels! – I have wisely decided that I am not one of those gamers who must clear the fog of war from every corner of the map. Tomorrow – or more accurately given the early hour, perhaps, later today – is for catching up with friends and perusing the dealer hall. Perhaps I can hire someone to carry me…

Wilting in the Heat

Prithee bring me windy days and butterflies
                And morning dews upon the grass
Clover soft between my toes
                And high above a sunny lass
Besotted by the sweetness of
                A change upon the day just passed
With memories of winter’s breath
                Yet lingering, alas
Prithee bring me dreams of autumn’s long caress
                The sultry notes of summer nights
Reds and yellows all aglow
                The sunny lass at last alights
With warm illusion on the hill
                Her toils for our feast delights
We long for winter’s wild chill
                As sashes close and fires build
In slumber holding fast until
                The morning dew invites.
Dreams of Springtide by Erik Emrys Carl

I am not fond of the summers in Kansas. When I lived in Dodge City, summers were interminably dry and dust-coated, sweltering, ungodly highs of around 108 in August with nary a cloud in the sky. In Wichita, August highs still reach 100 degrees with intermittent rainy days and pollen so thick it qualifies as precipitate. Even the night holds the heat close like a wild animal caught in a trap.

Forgive me for waxing poetic. Suffice it to say, I am not fond of summers in Kansas.

I love the fall, however. The scents of summer drifting on a steadily cooling evening breeze as the colors change and days grow shorter. When the bugs are drawn to the decay of dying leaves as readily as tender flesh, and a cup of tea on the porch after the sun’s gone down becomes a moment of zen rather than a cry for relief. I’m looking forward to it.

Meanwhile, I am fortunate that many of my preoccupations pair well with air conditioning.

Systemic Change

I seem to have acquired the most morbid news app EVAR on my phone. While it reports items of national interest, skewed in some fashion to an algorithm that picks articles similar to items I’ve explored on previous visits, it also focuses on local stories. I live in Wichita. It is a sizable community of more than half a million residents, but by no means a city renowned for its crime and hardship. Yet Every. Single. Morning. I am greeted with a morose notification regarding a violent crime, a shooting, a fatal accident, and so forth. I’m not sure what started this trend – I can’t even blame it on the algorithm, as I rarely click on any of these – but the past several weeks have somehow made this city feel remarkably unsafe. I’m confident that it’s an illusion – at least in contrast to business as usual – but it’s effective.

Anyway… good morning. Today is a new day, and I’ve decided to make an effort to chronicle said newness as part of a lean toward accountability. Journaling is a healthy habit I’ve found myself advising to others on numerous occasions, but I have never been able to invest in private journaling as a personal retreat. Somehow, anything completely private fails to buoy my sense of self-worth – which seems counter-intuitive, but doesn’t surprise me. While I enjoy no shortage of confidence in my abilities, the greater value of a creative effort is invariably in the sharing. As always, I will maintain a sense of openness and honesty. Authenticity in the public forum begets vulnerability, but I believe any less would be disingenuous and counter-productive.

That being said, if you’re reading this… welcome. Now to the point of today’s story.

I recently discovered a YouTube channel that presents a wealth of deep and thought-provoking content. I’ve enjoyed discussions regarding characteristics of genius, procrastination, objective reality, political marginalism, and life-hacks that help redefine your potential. This video, however, echoed a thought experiment that has guided some of my grander projects for many years.

It’s not a terribly long video. The core principle regards productivity in light of successes and failures. Setting goals may seem like an intuitive tool for success, but it effectively keeps you in a “fail state” until you achieve a goal, which can often be a minute and hollow victory inspiring an almost irrational need to set another goal ASAP. Thus starting the cycle anew. Setting a system, however, creates a pattern of behavior that generates feelings of success as the steps of the system are met, driving an overall sense of success toward the “goal.”

For example, I have around 45 to 50 thousand words left to complete Veil of Shadows, the now-tardy sequel to my debut novel. This goal has loomed larger the longer it takes to reach it, and my continued frustration at struggling through passages of the manuscript has been dispiriting, to say the least. As a goal, it keeps me a fail state. I have attempted to chop it up into more manageable chunks. Chapters. Story arcs. Even word counts. As goals, they are hit and miss, and the misses weigh more heavily than the fleeting accomplishments.

As per the advice rendered in the video, I have instead decided to create a system. I will specify an hour of the day – I’m currently working with the 9am hour, when I am often feeling well-rested, just after breakfast, and everyone else in my house remains fast asleep – to spend on the manuscript. I won’t set word count goals or anything similar; some mornings I may fly through a passage, others I may accomplish nothing (or even edit out a previous section on a follow-up read). But the pattern of successfully devoting time to it will keep me in a positive frame of mind regarding my efforts to succeed.

I mentioned that I’ve used this approach before on a macro level. Usually it’s on projects that have a hard deadline – like a promotional project or an event – thus making the goal itself irrefutable. With the freedom of that deadline, I can more easily focus on the time I spend and the steps I take to prepare for a con over the six months leading up to it. To use a random example.

But now I’m going to experiment with this same approach on a micro level. I am notoriously bad at goofing off, as it happens… I will occasionally binge a couple hours of a TV show, but I’m typically unable to engage in private entertainments when if feels like I could be doing something productive or creative (or preferably both!). So I’m going to try structuring my time. Using Google Calendar, I’m laying out an idealized schedule for my principle obligations. Here’s a look at this week:

The dark green items are hard scheduled driving, where a friend employs me to provide transportation for him. The light green are related to managing TsunamiCon and Assam Teas. For the latter, I have a lot of detail work I need to do to plan and promote the convention, and I believe that carving out specific times for it will be beneficial. For Assam, I’ve been slacking on our promotions and there are various managerial functions that need be kept up with. The dark blue items are actual game, and the lavender stretches are for schoolwork. I slot it meal time to ensure that I keep an eye on them; I like to prepare meals for myself and my wife (and my kids when they are interested in what I’m making). The yellow are medical appointments and such. That leaves the light blue entries, which are for writing, game prep, and podcast editing.

I’ve left space, of course. To relax, to record some music or read a book, watch TV, play a game, what have you. And it’s important to note that, though my rationale for this approach is to prioritize my work much like I would a full-time job, it’s entirely flexible and very experimental. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Oh, and it goes without mentioning… Comments are welcome.

Cheers!

There’s Something in My Eye

I just finished the Mistborn Trilogy by Brandon Sanderson.

Full disclosure: I don’t read that much anymore. While consuming literature – particularly fantasy, with a dose of sci-fi and horror – was a preoccupation of my youth, I’ve found less and less time for it in life as the years roll by. As a write, I naturally find this admission a little painful. And to my credit, whenever I’m feeling stuck in my own writing I tend to pick up a book.

I have been fortunate in that I have always found inspiration in art. Some writers or musicians absorb another artists’ work and feel intimidated, maudlin, or downright depressed. Even though much of my craft is relatively mediocre – with a maddening penchant of making me work all the harder for Every. Little. Scrap – I have always found motivation and inspiration in other people’s work.

I have to admit… I’m struggling with that a little bit right now. The Mistborn books are an excellent read, and Sanderson is more than proficient at creating compelling characters and weaving a story that holds you as it moves along. Still, I read the books in fits and starts over the course of two or three months. At times it felt like he was wandering a bit, and much like my absolutely favorite writer Mr. Robert Jordan – and, not coincidentally, yours truly – he likes to switch perspectives every few chapters to create an illusion of momentum that pushes everyone along separately in the same narrative. It’s effective, but a little disjointed at times.

And yet I never questioned whether I would push on to the end of the series. It was just too good.

I finished the third book less than an hour ago. (And yes, I know that if you look up Mistborn you’ll find three more books that follow the trilogy, but if you’ve read this stuff you know why the end of book three hit me so hard.) And for the first time in a long time, I’m simply stunned. Flummoxed. Intimidated, even. I just don’t know how to get back to my book after that. I’m still reeling.

I know that time and distance will offer perspective, but I have to say that I rather enjoy being in this place. I kinda want to hold on to this feeling for a while, even if it makes me effectively unproductive.

Read Mistborn. It’s worth it.

Nobody’s Home

Today… has been rough. It’s been 13 years since my father passed away. It actually almost slipped right past me. It’s typically pretty easy to remember, given proximity to Valentine’s Day… but this year’s Valentine’s festivities involve cleaning and making deliveries. Not ideal for marking the occasion.

I have to admit… I’m feeling pretty helpless lately. Without going into details, we’re dealing with a level of financial ruin that we simply didn’t anticipate. We thought we had this shit under control – we had every reason to be confident about it, despite the challenges presented by health issues and unemployment – but some things just spiral out of your control. I’m not terribly depressed – so many people are in much worse situations! – but it’s demotivating.

Jonikka and I spent the past seven days working tirelessly on deep cleaning the house. Niera helped us replace our broken steam cleaner, so the carpets are starting to look really nice, but the house is a shambles with bedrooms all switched about and furniture piled against walls in different rooms. And we had to wait for cash to buy new carpet shampoo – which we now have – but the weekend is here and we need to get some deliveries in to try to make some money, and we can’t recover our living space until we have time to finish the carpet…

And now, of course, the meteorological shift into single-digit temps has put Jonikka into a world of pain and chronic exhaustion.

It’s little things. The bank account it dry. My wife can’t function. I don’t have money for meds or household supplies. I can’t set up my computer desk and mixing console to work on podcasts. Or record music, and I have a few songs that are absolutely beating at the inside of my head trying to get out. I have games to run – and I will – but I’m having a hard time getting excited about it.

My dad’s position on hardship was always pretty practical. One thing at a time. Like me, he had a hard time sacrificing comforts for expediency, but he was quick to commit to a change if it solved a major problem. I’ve done quite a bit of that over the past several months… I know that there’s more I could sacrifice. But you have to measure living against quality of life for as long as you are able.

As Maslow’s Bitch, I’m not always able… so I hang on to what I can.

I was planning to start school next week. Online. Getting my MBA. I may have to put it off until next term. I thought we’d be in a better place by the time this term started. It’s really important that I can focus on the work.

Damn.

I was going to write about my new songs and how excited I am to get some recording done. I’ve already sent one composition to my rhythm section to work on their parts. “Nobody’s Home.” Basically, my pandemic song. Really moody, bluesy stuff. I laid down a few layers of guitar and strings, as well as some scratch vocal parts. Brendon and Drew are gonna get the bass and drum sections figured out, then I’ll see if my friend Anne can layer in some piano work. Then on to Bonnie to work on vocals. Very cool piece. Can’t wait to share it.

Still miss you, Dad.