It seems like there’s a flurry of activity in every facet of my life. If I were ruler of some mystical kingdom just beyond the Scintillating Sea, I might take a survey of my domain. I would discover the palace architects busy with a strange House that kept changing appearance and dimensions. The money counters are wringing their hands, suggesting we tax the peasants more, raid several neighboring kingdoms for gold, or at least beseech those that tread in heavenly realms for a boon. The royal chef is preparing strange foreign meals for the king’s whimsical diet. The High Dreamers awake daily to record detailed accounts of their journeys through the sliding seafoam beaches of silver worlds. New orders arrive regularly for the court artists, requests for portraits and windows that burn with cryptic sigils. The ambassador entertains queens visiting from faraway realms while the jester dances with the cats. The king stands in his empty bedchamber and stares out across the landscape, imagining a quiet cottage on a hill where none of the clocks work.
$13k
So I’m looking at about $13,000 to get 1000 units of House of Whack published. And it will take 3-4 months to print. Still waiting for another quote, but this gives me a good idea. I’ll also look into assembling the games myself with parts of the game supplied by different vendors. Might be cheaper, but then I’d have to assemble all the components for every game. Ack.
Major Change of Plans
After some research and reflection, I’ve had a major change of heart towards House of Whack: I’ve decided to self publish it. From what I’ve seen with the major publishers, you relinquinsh the rights to your game and don’t have much say in it. Also, the profits are very small. I want control of the game and I don’t want anyone to tell me “no” because they don’t want a boardgame with a bathroom in it. If it was any other game, it might make sense to take it to a publisher, but not one I care so much about.
This decision feels right, it feels liberating. All the major game publishers that I respect started out as a couple of guys in their college dorm and their cool idea. I want to form a company that will be an outlet for my friends’ creative projects. I’ve spoken to several of my friends who have ideas for games. It would be great if I could help bring those ideas to life.
So this will be the focus in the coming year. I’ll finalize the latest version of House of Whack, playtest it like mad, finalize the art, secure funding, do an initial print run, hit all the conventions, do the marketing, etc.
House of Whack will be Dreampunk Productions’ flagship product.
Watch this space for more info in the coming weeks: www.dreampunk.com
Start
I swiftly lost my bearings in the mist, unsure of which door I had entered. Mist and shadow obscured the room’s ceiling, if it indeed had one. I was not alone. A small crowd of people gathered around the room’s only feature: an antique traffic signal, shining red and, strangely enough, blue light across the puzzled faces. The glow illuminated the numeral 3, painted on each bulb. I stood with the others, pondering the signal. 3 and 3. 33? What had happened to the yellow and green lights? Perhaps it wasn’t a traffic signal at all.
I noticed a man standing apart from the crowd, studying one of the rooms’ four simple doors. For some reason my mind recalled the stage from my old theatre days. Spare, but efficient, the cornerstone of new worlds. I approached the man.
“Tired of standing about yammering as well, eh?” he asked. “Me too. I’m ready.”
“Ready?” I asked. I could already tell from his bearing that he was of an adventurous disposition. “Ready for what?” I never know what to do with my hands in these situations, so I put them in my pockets. Eh, what’s this?
“To open a door, of course! Only question is who gets to choose first.”
“I suppose we could roll for it,” I said, showing him the dice I had discovered in my pocket.
“Aye, that’s the spirit,” he grinned. We crouched near the marble floor, each tossing a die. The clattering bones echoed up into the room’s dark, infinite spaces.
Whack dreams
The past two nights I have had dreams involving House of Whack, my board game. The night before last I had one of those transcendant dreams where I knew I was being given important information about the true nature of reality, but I could not hope to take it into waking life. I remember a crone or perhaps a hermit spreading the rooms out like a tarot reading. I don’t think anyone really understands what happens inside my head when I think of the game. They see a board game, but I see something else.
Last night’s dream involved a Kinko’s or something. The place was being robbed or I was being threatened somehow. The assailant was holding me at gunpoint and asking me to explain the contents of the House of Whack box. There was a story resting on top of the game components. I took it out and pulled out some room cards so I could show this person how the rooms connected together. I noticed that there were rooms I had not created for the game.
Inspiration
Sometimes I wonder why I find myself in certain situations, but then a magical catalyst of environment and circumstance gels together to inspire an idea. Tonight, at the excellent Coldplay concert, I was struck by an idea for House of Whack so brilliant that I impressed myself. I sat on the hillside of the Journal Pavilion, scribbling on my notepad while my muse played on stage, accompanied by some of the best visual effects I had seen at a concert.
In my own playtesting of version 2, I have been surprised at how much better the game is. I am rarely ecstatic about anything I’ve made, but I have to say that I’m feeling pretty clever lately. Version 2 is very, very good. But this epiphany I had tonight kicks the dial up to 11. I’ve devised something so astonishing and cool. It will demonstrate the power and flexibility of the Whack system. Yes, “system.” As in d20, as in GURPS.
On the other hand, I might be the only one interested in this idea at all, but we’ll see…
Architecture
I turn once more towards the House, unfinished blueprint rolled in my hand. It has spoken its desires to me, some clear, some like smoke. The names of the occupants are known, their various gambits. New paradigms have moved in, decorating the walls with glyphic lights. Old ones have been packed away into the attic. But still…still…I am not sure I have seen the House’s true face.
Renovations
While I was tacking down some new carpet in the foyer I saw the gymnasium slide past the door. People I had never seen before were poking about the free weights. That explains the leftovers in the fridge.
Before leaving I double-checked the tripwires and the pressure in the helium tanks. Something scratched and mewled behind the boudoir door. Best leave that for the guests to find.
Got an encrypted message this morning from an agent at Cambridge. They are already working on an app to track the guests online. Excellent.