squidmon5872

Yes, it is. I have finally found more secure work and have some editing work on top of that. Things are looking up.

Work has been intense for the last while. I have been slow in adjusting to being full time+ again, and every part of me, bar my wallet, is hanging out for November 30th and freedom. The editing of the student handbook for the well-known local tertiary institution is finally progressing, as the software can now handle the 60+ departments and 600+ subjects. The tutoring is fine, although like any teaching of children, it's nice to catch them in a good mood, when they haven't been told off for not doing X or Y. Check out this month's Big Issue if you want some insight into the realities of teaching, rather than the rose-coloured recruitment drives we normally get.

In school work news, I have finally finished my scrapbook of grammar giddiness, and may the gods bless the creators of the internet for their assistance in my having enough crap to fill said scrapbook. My final short story for class is a mess, with two strands of apocalyptic fiction running into one another and not quite merging into anything yet. Here's hoping I have another 1800 words by tomorrow night!

A second night of interrupted sleep, and I feel like my head is about to crash into the keyboard. Time for my grandpa nap.  Now, where did I put the cocoa?

I have been busy applying for jobs, changing tyres and generally stuffing about not writing. So I am writing now. So there.

It may be a corny mishmash with suckfest rules, but I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Shadowrun. As the first non-AD&D game I ever read, ran and loved, it has been a mainstay of my gaming, and my group's, for many years. That said, we haven't really played it (okay, anything) solidly for a good...no, I don't want to think how long it's been.

Anyhow, the point was that after last fortnight's troubled musings, I found inspiration again and am off and running. Last night's intro was solid, set up a good feel (specifically: not ever run is going to have a twist, the group get along, the group is competent, and we had some good NPC's). I have the next few sessions layed out, so I'll fill in as we go.

It's that pre-tax return time of year when things start to look a little grim around the wallet, so it's been all systems CV today.

Stage 1a, get a whiteboard and use it, is partially complete, The item in question is now hanging up, and is awaiting instruction.

I'm off to make some bread.

With apologies, Patrick!

After talking to several friends about gaming, GMing in particular, I have come to the conclusion that I need some time out. My games are no longer fresh, there's no consistency and I'm getting snappy with people. Matt asked me if this was burnout, but I think more likely I'm just burning everything at once - overburn. So, I have asked the Terrific Trio if they can sit in the hot seat for a bit while I get my shit into gear, and write some good adventure material. I don't say campaign material, because one character generation session for each of twenty games does not make for a campaign.

So, I've been thinking back to when D&D 3.0 first came our way, and the fact that Aaron, Matt and I had a absolute blast with it, and why that was the case. I have to conclude, in the manner of the geeky scientist from Dark Angel, that there are Three Steps to This:

1) I created a game world and background that suited our play style. It had: a defined role for the PCs; a clear explanation of how important metagame terms meshed with the game world, ie levels, etc; it was openly narrative in play, using the justifiably famous Vincent Baker maxim, 'Say yes or roll the dice', and; we had no munchkins

2) The rules were fresh, interesting and we didn't know them back to front, which meant we winged lots of stuff and interpreted rolls for which these days we'd know the chapter, section, subsection and all clauses. This meant that I was, no, that I felt, free to interpret rules and situations with a spontaneity I find sadly lacking in my GMing at the moment. We also had no munchkins.

3) And we all know that 3is the most important number, I had two players who were experienced roleplayers, had roleplayed with me and one another for years, and were keen to explore with new eyes and open minds. Our game came crashing down when we had three new players whose play styles didn't mesh with our own. DOn't get me wrong, I love new blood in games, but it is a very stark memory that says this is when the game broke. We had munchkins at this point.

So what? Well, I want to take a break and re-evaluate. I want to marshal my creative forces and whip them into a tight GMing machine before sending them back out to oppress my very good friends. And I also want to play.

Yesterday's chargen session went a treat, with 6 weird, wonderful characters burned up for the Wheel. So far I'm liking:
- the disgraced squire whose brother and mother set him up to be killed by the Easterlings, but he was captured and has escaped.
- the sorcereress who believes the plague was a magical curse and is determined to prove it no matter the cost. I like this one because we were all leery of the idea for her at first, but she is one of the most competent and scary of the characters
- the gloryhound horselord whose horse died of the plague, along with his family, and who is now trying to find a way to redeeem himself

These were my favourites, but the others were all as good. A big round of applause to Matt and Stephen, and to Aaron for having the courage to restart when he realized the previous group was too hard to work with.

Ah, Melbourne. Beautiful one day, full of germs and snot the next. As I write I am getting over my second cold in as many weeks, and this one is a delight. I'll spare you the details, but it is not one I'd recommend. As a result, I have missed some days of that much needed work, and have the feeling I'll miss some more still.

That's all for today.

Ah, Cameo. And it's even funnier now than then. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKmtsN_gzMM

This has no relevance other than it came up at trivia a few weeks back, and I wanted to relive the hilarity.

In relevant land, I got a new keyboard and am having to adjust from the laptop, with a nice drop in speed and readability, so there!

This week has been one of highs and lows. Or lows and highs, maybe. First was the realization that the money was nearly gone (again) and that work was not beating down my door. Then there was the absence of my group work partners in editing - this coming on top of my previous group work does not bode well. I mean, sure I might smell, have odious personal habits and be a roleplaying dork, but dammit people, this is worth marks!!!! And then there was the take home exam with the large chunk of stuff from the lesson I missed. Oops.

In good news mode though, I have work as of next Monday. For a a few weeks at least, at  I can once more become a barnacle on the good ship Melbourne Uni. As noted above, this came at a sterling time, and big thanks to Mell for suggesting me. 

In further good news, Mell and I are off mushrooming this weekend in Blackwood. A visit to the family mansion in Franklinford (not least so I can return all the DVDs I've borrowed) will be followed on Saturday by a walk in the black forest (who gets the Goodies reference?) and some mushies, followed by a mushy dinner at the Gardens of St Erth (yes, that's a real place, no they are those sort of mushies).

¡Hasta luego, muchachos!

Here's to the D&Ders who get that reference. For me, it's about my hot new writing desk, courtesy of our Swedish friends. It comes with enough room for all my shit (well, so far at least). I also have a balkissen, which has nothing to do with that Irish comedy of a few years back, but is a nice butt massager and balance disk. Which was probably too much information, but that's the internet for you!

Well, in study news, first presentations are done for class, and in record time (I had a twelve minute speech, delivered in about four). Also, our exciting range of grammar fridge magnets should be coming to an editing class near you soon.

It all started in The Drowned Rat, down in the Bleakers. It’d be nice to say it was a dark and stormy night, but really it was just any old night-dank, dull, misty and ripe with, if not promise, then at least the stench of fish. The ’Rat, one ordinary night…

‘Argus, do you ‘ave to do dat wif yor eye,’ is what Odrum said, the young guttersnipe’s words all but incomprehensible.
‘Why yes, dear Odrum, I do. See, without tears to keep the marble moist in the socket, it pains me so.’ Argus was, clearly, a more cultured fellow. Or at least that is what his public voice would lead you to think. Hear him in a dark alley sometime, slicing some would-be mugger, and his true diction was more Bleakers than even Odrum’s.
‘Do you think they’ll show?’
‘Odrum, dear boy, do be silent and deal. They’ll be here when they’ll be here. No sooner, no later.’ Argus flicked the cards off the table for emphasis, forcing Odrum to bend down to pick them up. Whilst there, he noted an unusually clean, vividly red pair of knee-high boots standing by the bar.
‘Um, Argus?’
‘Yes, my peripatetic companion?’ Argus, finished polishing his eye, placed it on the table in front of him. He found its distracting qualities gave him an unfair advantage over Odrum in games of chance.
‘Um, you know that bloke what we scored them blades off, the one we dumped in Choke Finger Channel after he tried to stiff us?’ Odrum, still under the table, drew a well-oiled throwing knife from his boot.
‘Yes, Odrum, I find I recall the events of that evening particularly clearly. Do get to the point. Or deal. Either is fine.’ Argus removed his fine clay smoking pipe and some tobacco from the depths of his greatcoat.
‘You remember he said he had a brother in the Bald Hill Blades? Name of Red-boot Roger?’
‘Yes, Odrum, I am once more recollecting with great perspicacity the events of the aforementioned gloaming. Do, dear boy, arrive at a point in all haste.’ Argus proceeded to tamp the pipe.
‘Well, that twat at the bar…’
Argus glanced up at the bar. There was indeed a chap in knee-high red boots, but what concerned Argus were the 4 bravos with him
‘Ah. Yes. Perhaps a hasty exit is in order.’ Argus pushed back his chair and bent from the waist so that he could look Odrum in the eye, under the table. ‘Out to the privies, over the wall and into Shambledown Alley?’

Over by the bar, the aforementioned twat had just finished asking the barman a pointed question-well, had just asked a question at knifepoint anyway. The twat, hereafter referred to by the more sinister (so his mum said) title of Red-boot Roger, turned and surveyed the crowd. Slowly his eyes settled on a remarkably empty table upon which sat a still-smoking pipe and a marble with an unusual blue pattern. Roger signalled his companions and they pushed through the crowded common room to the privies.

‘Over the wall with you, Odrum. Then give me a hand up.’
Odrum, looking back, gasped, and disappeared over the wall.
‘I fink not,’ sneered Roger, motioning to his henchmen. They fanned out, five in all, cutting off any escape.
‘I don’t suppose a bribe would do the trick?’ asked Argus, sarcasm in his voice and a small, sticky-bladed throwing dagger in his concealed fist.
‘Na, don’t s’pose it would. You’ve made a mockery of me an’ mine, and now ya gonna pay.’ Roger had clearly spent more time on his wardrobe than his elocution. ‘Get ‘im, boys.’
Argus whipped his hand up, and Roger felt a stinging pain across his left ear.
‘Darned depth perception,’ Argus muttered.
‘What, you gonna scratch me to death?’
‘Well…’ Argus waited for the poison to do its job. Drawing another blade from the sheath at the small of his back, he prepared to hold off all comers.
The henchmen sidled forward, none eager to be the first to cross blades with a back alley brawler of Argus’ repute. Roger shoved one of his men forward, and the man slashed at Argus with a rusty cutlass. The blade left a reddening line across Argus’ shirtsleeve. Argus returned the cut with interest.
‘You pissant, filthy coward, Roger! C’arn get it!’ Argus spat.
Roger, by this point, was finding things a bit tricky. Things like thinking, standing up, breathing, that sort of stuff. He flopped to the ground, frothing at the mouth. His henchmen, born the school of realists, legged it back out into the pub.

‘You all right over there?’ came Odrum’s voice from the other side of the wall.
‘All good now. Fancy a new pair o’ boots?’

Last Monday's Cold City game will go down in my game mastering hall of fame as one of the most eye-opening, challenging games of all time. Not that it was complex, it wasn't. Not that it was hard, it wasn't. Not that it was anything other that fun, it was. It gets a record because it was an amazing revelation in the now famous Lumpley "Say yes, or roll the dice". Man, what a change. No more endless planning sessions before tackling the crime scene. No more searching for the hidden meaning in the bag of herbal tea. No more faffing about with boring crap, when the main point of playing is the fun stuff. Thank you, Malcolm Craig!

Of course, Monday was also when I went to the doctor's for my flu shot, with the wacky result of me now having the flu.

In other exciting news, my brush with the closest thing to hell on earth, Centrelink, has me well on the way to tearing my own ears off in frustration at the endless repetition of "You don't have blah document" Of course I don't, you forgot to send me ANYTHING to tell me what to bring. Fnargling berks.

In cool news, thanks to artbroken for the Thieves World Gazeteer - a fun read in between the ear pulling and teeth gnashing.

Yes, you! If you are reading, you need to be commenting. Or I'll tell everyone about Namtab.

We're back from Portsea, land of the too expensive coffee and ludicrously too expensive everything else. The street party in Sorrento was so full of Toorak tractors and Prue and Trudes that I felt physically ill. But, thank the lords of the sea, there was a young man in his sailors outfit, a la 1979!

All in all though, the weekend was a fabulous breath of fresh air. It felt great to get out of the city and into some greenery, salt and sand.

And yes, I do mean word. Editing class’ll do that to you.

It’s how I feel after a week of frustrating, unsuccessful job searching, and rushing assignments to catch up. I reckon there is nothing in our modern world to compete with the sheer and utter self-loathing that the prospect of having to go to Centrelink can provide. Yes, our taxes pay for this service. Yes, I have paid a lot of taxes over the last few years. Yes, I need money. But Centrelink is the black hole of hope, that extra pit of hell Dante didn’t quite get to, because it was just a bit far out of the way on his tour. I just can’t bring myself to go there yet. After a week of hating money, hating needing money and hating myself for wanting to have some more than I do, have I done anything about it? You bet yourself I haven’t.

About now I will chime in with a shout-out to the lovely, ever-supportive and tolerant Mell, without whom my life would be dull, tasteless and bland in all ways. She rocks. She’s also built up an awesome spice collection. Mmm, chipotle…. Anyhoo, I mention Mell here not because she is one spicy chica, but rather because she has been helping me put together some flyers for sticking up around the local TAFEs and unis in order to drum up some business. Whether that’s kosher or not, I don’t know. Right now, I couldn’t care less.

But I'm back! Actually, I'd just finished reading Judd's post about turning his house into a Waitsian spoken word piece, so there's your title right there. Aaron's wedding is closing in, and we spent a day on the field of paintball and Wii, with the unsurprising result (given that we are all mid-thirties deskjockeys) that we can't move. Mell politely informed me, after gales of laughter, that I walk like Frankenstein's monster. And I really do. Slap a bolt on my neck, paint up the old scars, and let's get a scaring folks.

Let's see -I have been busy. The Japanese left amid tears, flag waving and cheers, and I slipped into a big pile of work I'd put off-three short stories; three summaries of talks given; one language assignment on the origins of words in English that have come from swordplay; and one group project on freelancing (the writing, not the actual lancing).

In addition I have been devouring everything I can get on freelance editing and setting up my editing business, although this is a very slow and, at the moment, piecemeal effort.

I am making a-what's not quite the opposite of triumphant-return to miniatures painting. I was less than impressed to discover in the many cleaning frenzies Mell and I have had that I transferred my paintbox outside, in the sun and rain, where it must have sat for nearly a year. You can imagine the result. So, I have new paints (using the Vallejo ones - much better than Games Workshop), new glue and new miniatures. I still need to get a new set of files (the old ones being a largish rust stain in the bottom of my paintbox) and a new drill.

On the gaming front we played a session of RQIV last night which Harry kindly ran. It was our usual comedy of errors, but fun! Aaron lent me Conspiracy of Shadows, which I'm enjoying greatly. I really like the way Keith has laid out the Series Bible - must give it a go as soon as we have a spare spot.

So, it's been a busy week. I'll break it down for you:

Work: has been  good, although I am over being so tired. Five hours of teaching, followed by study, is exhausting and makes for  junk-food-fuelled grumpiness that isn't fun to be around. The Japanese are still cute, though. Kawai! Also, I need to find a new job, as this one finishes this week. I'll be dropping past my old school tomorrow on the way back from handing in Mell's essay, so I'll see what they might have in the way of work.

Study: Has been great, but see work (above). The group project looks a little more solid now, and one member has emailed me some research. My turn next. Finished the first assessment piece for Short Story, and my umpteenth re-draft of Spring Cleaning went down well, so I'll post them both up soon.

Learning: All about grammar. I was a primary (that's elementary for our US listeners) school teacher for the last four years and taught grammar to the little tackers, but the thing is, I never learned grammar at school. At least, not in English. I learned everything I know about grammar from Ms Reich, my German teacher. So there I am in Editing 1, translating English grammar into German, and back again, just so I can make some kind of sense of it. Wee!

Gaming: Aaron, Matt, Stephen, Alan and I had a good BW session last weekend, with the lads off wandering Mirkwood in search of some missing kids. Some mistakes were made in rules, but it was a much better first session than the one I ran before Christmas, so it looks like this one will go the distance. Aaron was GMing, and did a good job of keeping on top of things. Matt played the Gondorian noble, Stephen the hunter, Alan the banner-boy and I had the proto-Rohirrim horseman. In my own gaming, having reviewed the group I have for next Sunday, I am thinking of alternatively crying myself to sleep or running something new. Pendragon springs to mind, as we've never played it, and it feels like it'd be fun.

When we were in school, a five fingered discount was stealing. Having picked up (and paid for, honest!) the Five Fingers supplement for Iron Kingdoms, I am inspired to run a 'thieves in the city' game, with intrigues and nail-biting knife fights and stinking sewer chases. However, our gaming of late has been sporadic at best, and terribly overcrowded. This time last year we were struggling to fill out our games past me, Matt and Aaron. Since then, Steven has joined us for a nice bit of TROS/Warhammer FRP courtesy of Aaron. In December, John, Pirate Pete and Poker Pete all joined us in the initial Burning Wheel session I ran, which was awesome but taxed me. Six players is too many for me, at least it is if I'm running a game I don't know well (BW). Which brings me to my dilemma - do I dump some players and go BW, or do I keep it open and stick to d20? In days gone by, we'd have killed (or at least offered bribery to people) to have three or more players in our games. Now we've got it and we can't handle it.  Woe is me.