I’m back home after doing a gig for GE in Scottsdale. Really nice resort at the Camelback Inn. On the way out from ABQ, while standing in line at the security checkpoint, I turned around to find Christopher Lloyd standing there talking with his attractive companion. He looked like a really laid back, affable guy. Maybe he was filming a movie here or something.
Feelings
Today I can feel my heart and chest again. It is all love and heartache, both almost too much to bear.
Numb and dumb
Ordinarilly I am a kind, considerate person, but tonight I didn’t feel anything at all. Not the music, not the people, no feelings. There were two songs I could feel and I could dance then, but I went back to feeling nothing at all. I closed my eyes and the whole world went away, but it wasn’t any different when I opened them. No one around me seemed to be there, they didn’t show up on my radar.
And I’m old enough to take care of ourself. I don’t need to make someone help me. It’s the worst thing to do when you are me.
An extraordinary evening
The other night I went to this local board gaming group and had a completely unprecedented experience. First of all, this guy has a whole guesthouse just for games. His library contained pretty much every Euro game I had ever heard of. At least 150 games. Then he introduces me to one of their regular members, the owner of Rio Grande Games. I got to playtest two games, one that was a prototype, one that isn’t available here yet. They were really fun. There was also a stack of games that debuted at Essen (the big German game expo) that you can’t get here yet. Just sitting there!
And get this: when Jay, the owner of Rio Grande, found out I was a graphic artist, he asked me to bring him samples of my work next time because he needed a graphic artist for an upcoming game. It was like a weird dream. I didn’t even push for any of it to happen, he was just there and he asked if I did graphics for game design. I would not mind doing graphics for a board game that would be published by one of the most recognized publishers in the world.
Crossing Paths
Today I discovered that I’ve gone out with both of the women who own a fabulous high end lingerie shop here in town. Weird. Both were pretty fantastic, but I didn’t really connect with either one.
DreamPunk now online
Here’s a special first look at DreamPunk.com, for all you readers of my blog:
Who will win the PSP?
From the Insomnia Radio site:
The entries are in, and they exceed any expectations I had. The authors of these stories are gifted, dedicated, edgy, and inspired. This should basically be the hardest decision I’ve had to make in quite a long time.
Keep your eyes on the site as we narrow down the finalists.
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Man, I hope I win! In any case, I’m happy with the story. I haven’t written one in a while.
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
Bus and Bill Dreams
In the dream I climbed aboard the bus-like supertransport. Imagine a combination triple-decker bus and high-speed train. As I walked down the aisle, trying to figure out where I’m supposed to sit, I peered out through the windows, hoping that perhaps She had changed her mind and will come with me to California. She hadn’t. As I near the back of the passenger area, I realized that there weren’t any assigned seats and I could sit wherever I want. There was a seat available next to a very lovely woman. I sat down next to her. She was completely enchanting. Her voice sounded normal, but when I asked her name, these otherworldly syllables came out, as though perhaps she were speaking Elvish. I asked her to spell her name because I didn’t quite get it. I leaned in, ear near her lip, and she spelled her name in letters that weren’t a part of any human language. I laughed, shrugging it off. She said she had an accent because she’s from the South. The dream shifted to us getting off the bus at some street corner in California.
A dream fragment: I am in the corridor of a military spaceship. I seem to be a female officer. While chaos and red lights and klaxxons surround me, I calmly crouch to access an ancient-looking computer terminal in the floor. At the command line I type in “Contact Adama”. Apparently I’ve just had my first Battlestar Galactica dream.
Another dream took place at a really lame high school party. Looked like it was in a YMCA or something. I sat down on a computer and visited my friend Bill’s site. I clicked on a link and a video started to play. It seemed like a strange personal ad, only it wasn’t for a dating service but for readers of Soldier of Fortune magazine or something similar. Like if you needed another commando for your team, you’d check out these ads. Anyhow, there was Bill, only it was this super-buff Rambo version of him. He had shaved his head and had tattoos around each now muscular arm. The video was a rapid-fire montage. He was doing all these funny poses, changing hats from this bike Nazi helmet to one of those hats you wear while exploring the Australian outback. He had a paintball gun in some of the shots. It was funny because it still looked like Bill, with his perpetually-quizzical expression only with a shaved head.