Of the six posts in this webspace I've made in previous years on this date--2011, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018--that from 2014 seems the most relevant to me at the moment. In that piece, I offer an amateurish review of the Legend of the Five Rings Roleplaying Game fourth-edition supplement, Sword and Fan. Now, while the game has since progressed into a fifth edition, and with a different company holding the rights to the intellectual property, I find the supplement--and the line of which it is part--still of some use. I play and administer games in it, and am gearing up to help run yet another game that will make much use of the materials in the book. Revisiting the review, therefore, seems like a useful thing to do.
There are problems in the piece, of course. As I note, it is amateurish, overly brief and skimpy on details that would likely make for a better piece of writing. (Indeed, the scholar that is still within me chafes at the lack of specific textual detail and explication thereof. And I was a scholar then, or at least was trying to be so, so the lack is even less acceptable from then than it would be from now, when I am more or less out of academe.) Too, certain features expected of book reviews are flatly absent; I do not give the ISBN or the MSRP, for example, both of which are standard features of book reviews. (I see enough of them, both in my pleasure reading and in the scholarly reading I should have done more of when I was trying to be a scholar. I ought to know better.) Neither is a point in favor of my writing's quality.
But I do follow the overall form of a review, giving a brief synopsis of the contents before identifying problems I found in the text and expounding on what it does well. And, following a form I learned while doing freelance writing I still miss--largely because of the pay, yes, but also because of the ways in which it forced me to sharpen my writing and to expand my skills with it (including working in AP style and beginning to learn HTML coding)--I spend more words on what Sword and Fan does well than what it does poorly. My overall notion is that the book is a good one, and it helps to have subtle textual features align to that idea. Neglecting problems is a foolhardy thing, but if the overall idea is that a thing is good, it makes sense to put more words into noting how it is good than how it is bad. It's not paratext, as such; it is in the words themselves. But it is not in the denotations of those words--or even the connotations of the individual words. It is in the connotations of perceived effort as indicated by the number of words. So that much is to the good in the review, at least.
Written reviews are not particularly prized for RPG products at this point--or even at the point when I wrote my review of Sword and Fan. I should be making videos, probably, or at least including graphics to encapsulate and condense my prose for ease of reading. In another webspace, I likely would. But in this one, I remain bound to text (and with some light attention to paratext, I admit). Whether that is a good thing or not, I am not at all certain.
Showing posts with label L5R. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L5R. Show all posts
Friday, June 28, 2019
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
20190326.0430
It should come as no surprise that I am involved in another iteration of the Legend of the Five Rings Roleplaying Game; I have played since my first year of undergraduate study, and I've come back to the topic time and again in this webspace and in others. My affection for and engagement with the material, then, should be clear. When another opportunity to play in such a game arose, then, I was almost compelled to seize upon it; that it has done so in such a way as the current game, which situates itself in the deep canonical history of the game as a whole, only served as a greater allure. I'm sure I'll have more to say on the matter in the coming weeks, as the game progresses, but there is something that emerges as a point of interest for me in the present moment.
A common feature of the online play in which I've engaged for some time, and which is present in the game I've joined, is out-of-character chat. While tabletop RPGs themselves depend for their effect upon the immersion of the players in the play--hardly unique to them, I know, though such games are notable in that their audiences are their performers in the moments of the performance--it is also the case that any group of people gathered for a common purpose will engage in side-conversations and other activities that are themselves enjoyable but are also distractions from the main game, the unifying purpose. Such things are unavoidable; the online games in which I've played set up places to put them, places which come to function strangely liminally as the games get going and continue.
The specific webspaces are described as out-of-character areas; the players are not obliged to narrate as if in character. Yet most of them will do so. Early on in games' lives, the out-of-character spaces serve as workshops to find and refine characters' voices; in one case, I found that I needed to apply a particular accent to a character to fit the concept, and I am far from the only example to be found of such things. And while the discussion in the out-of-character spaces do not affect those of the in-character spaces, the reverse is not true--and the players tend to discuss outside matters in the voices of their characters. In short, the out-of-character space is a play-space, one that does not affect the main story but does involve the players playing as their characters. That liminality seems an interesting thing to me; I wonder what someone better at looking at such things than I am might make of it.
A common feature of the online play in which I've engaged for some time, and which is present in the game I've joined, is out-of-character chat. While tabletop RPGs themselves depend for their effect upon the immersion of the players in the play--hardly unique to them, I know, though such games are notable in that their audiences are their performers in the moments of the performance--it is also the case that any group of people gathered for a common purpose will engage in side-conversations and other activities that are themselves enjoyable but are also distractions from the main game, the unifying purpose. Such things are unavoidable; the online games in which I've played set up places to put them, places which come to function strangely liminally as the games get going and continue.
The specific webspaces are described as out-of-character areas; the players are not obliged to narrate as if in character. Yet most of them will do so. Early on in games' lives, the out-of-character spaces serve as workshops to find and refine characters' voices; in one case, I found that I needed to apply a particular accent to a character to fit the concept, and I am far from the only example to be found of such things. And while the discussion in the out-of-character spaces do not affect those of the in-character spaces, the reverse is not true--and the players tend to discuss outside matters in the voices of their characters. In short, the out-of-character space is a play-space, one that does not affect the main story but does involve the players playing as their characters. That liminality seems an interesting thing to me; I wonder what someone better at looking at such things than I am might make of it.
Thursday, March 7, 2019
20190307.0430
In yesterday's post to this webspace, I comment that I have had several reasons to hoard printed pages. It must be the case that I have had them; I've dragged more than a ton of them across states and time-zones, and that kind of investment of time and effort has to have some justification. In earlier times, my doing so might have had to do with my work trying to be a scholar and teacher in the academic humanities, chiefly English languages and literatures. Even now, knowing that I ought to divest myself of some of the printed pages I have accumulated over the years in favor of electronic reading and library work, and knowing that I should get rid of some of the others because they represent connections to parts of me that I ought to relinquish--growths or vestigial organs that serve no purpose but threaten to grow septic--there are a fair few pieces that I mean to continue to keep. They continue to matter to me in ways that go beyond the words printed on their pages.
I've addressed some of the reasons why, to be sure. There are copies of works my wife and I have that are for display, and, yes, there is some snobbishness in having fancy ones that do not get opened often if at all. There are some that I keep for their sentimental value, because they were given to me by people for whom I cared and care. My copies of Asimov's Foundation novels are among them, for example, as is my grandfather's copy of an old edition of Shakespeare. There are some, too, that I still use, whether because I continue to play RPGs such as L5R or because I still flatter myself that I do a bit of research people might occasionally want to read or to hear me present at a conference now and again. (Did I mention I've got another one coming up in May?)
One thing that gives me some pause as I consider getting rid of some of the books I have but no longer use, or the academic journals I've gathered over the years, is that I make many notes in the margins of the books from which I study. The fancy and sentimental copies of my books are exempt from that, of course; the pretty ones should probably remain pretty, the ones that matter should get no blemish, and my pen-hand remains poor despite the practice through which I put it time and again. But my working books, the ones from which I've taught or to which I've gone time and again for materials from which to write what I write in the most formal venues where I write, are bestrewn with my notes, both interlinear and marginal. It is because owning copies of the books allows me to make the notes that I have continued to buy books as I have, and it is because there are little bits of me thrust into those pages through the guided work of my hands upon cylinders that trail something behind them that I am loath to part with so many of the pages I've acquired.
I worry that I will be diminished.
I've addressed some of the reasons why, to be sure. There are copies of works my wife and I have that are for display, and, yes, there is some snobbishness in having fancy ones that do not get opened often if at all. There are some that I keep for their sentimental value, because they were given to me by people for whom I cared and care. My copies of Asimov's Foundation novels are among them, for example, as is my grandfather's copy of an old edition of Shakespeare. There are some, too, that I still use, whether because I continue to play RPGs such as L5R or because I still flatter myself that I do a bit of research people might occasionally want to read or to hear me present at a conference now and again. (Did I mention I've got another one coming up in May?)
One thing that gives me some pause as I consider getting rid of some of the books I have but no longer use, or the academic journals I've gathered over the years, is that I make many notes in the margins of the books from which I study. The fancy and sentimental copies of my books are exempt from that, of course; the pretty ones should probably remain pretty, the ones that matter should get no blemish, and my pen-hand remains poor despite the practice through which I put it time and again. But my working books, the ones from which I've taught or to which I've gone time and again for materials from which to write what I write in the most formal venues where I write, are bestrewn with my notes, both interlinear and marginal. It is because owning copies of the books allows me to make the notes that I have continued to buy books as I have, and it is because there are little bits of me thrust into those pages through the guided work of my hands upon cylinders that trail something behind them that I am loath to part with so many of the pages I've acquired.
I worry that I will be diminished.
Saturday, January 19, 2019
20109119.0430
I am once again amid an online roleplaying game--two, actually, playing in one and helping to administer another, both of which concern the exploits of magical samurai. I am once again immersed in creating stories collaboratively, working with others to present and negotiate challenges, developing characters and pushing forward plotlines--and, given the online media, leaving behind me and my fellow players records of what is being done and how. It marks a difference from what Daniel Mackay describes as an ephemeral performance, which also opens the possibility that the games I'm in could be studied by later researchers.
I've worked on such things before, whether in reviewing products (as here and here) or acting in a pseudo-scholarly fashion (such as here, here and in preceding work, or here and in its predecessors). And I've received at least a little favorable feedback on the work I've done so far; some of the players I'm with now have seen at least some of the work that I've done, and they've approved of it, for which I am grateful. Consequently, I have some idea that more such work might be done well, and I've opined about it in previous posts, noting my desire to return to doing such things, since I have not the burdens of formal academe under which to labor anymore. (This is not to say that I would do the work well, of course; did I do such things as well as I might like, I'd likely still be in academe. But that's another matter entirely.)
What approach might inform such work is not clear to me, however. Considerations of medium and content development obtain. While the narrative in the games I play starts at a fixed point of in-milieu time and moves forward from that point, it does not do so consistently. In the game I am helping to administer, days begin linearly, but they do not end in linear fashion. Additionally, motion through the days themselves is not linear; bits of gameplay do not start in the in-milieu morning and move smoothly forward, but begin at various points in the in-game day and fill in from those beginnings. And there are many people starting and adding to narrative threads throughout. As such, while each narrative thread is linear in itself, the emergence and development of those threads is not so neat, and following the lines of narrative from structural and related perspectives is therefore more complicated than might otherwise be the case.
Addressing each narrative thread as a separate work would not work, however. The threads are too interconnected to permit of such easy untangling. They might be regarded as being analogous to chapters in a book, each treated as such, but that would also run into problems as threads run into and emerge from one another. Nor can one character's progress be taken as a focal point, given the relatively egalitarian nature of most such games. But even the notion of coming up with a rubric or apparatus to make sense of the game as a whole would be quite an accomplishment...I hope to see such a thing someday.
I've worked on such things before, whether in reviewing products (as here and here) or acting in a pseudo-scholarly fashion (such as here, here and in preceding work, or here and in its predecessors). And I've received at least a little favorable feedback on the work I've done so far; some of the players I'm with now have seen at least some of the work that I've done, and they've approved of it, for which I am grateful. Consequently, I have some idea that more such work might be done well, and I've opined about it in previous posts, noting my desire to return to doing such things, since I have not the burdens of formal academe under which to labor anymore. (This is not to say that I would do the work well, of course; did I do such things as well as I might like, I'd likely still be in academe. But that's another matter entirely.)
What approach might inform such work is not clear to me, however. Considerations of medium and content development obtain. While the narrative in the games I play starts at a fixed point of in-milieu time and moves forward from that point, it does not do so consistently. In the game I am helping to administer, days begin linearly, but they do not end in linear fashion. Additionally, motion through the days themselves is not linear; bits of gameplay do not start in the in-milieu morning and move smoothly forward, but begin at various points in the in-game day and fill in from those beginnings. And there are many people starting and adding to narrative threads throughout. As such, while each narrative thread is linear in itself, the emergence and development of those threads is not so neat, and following the lines of narrative from structural and related perspectives is therefore more complicated than might otherwise be the case.
Addressing each narrative thread as a separate work would not work, however. The threads are too interconnected to permit of such easy untangling. They might be regarded as being analogous to chapters in a book, each treated as such, but that would also run into problems as threads run into and emerge from one another. Nor can one character's progress be taken as a focal point, given the relatively egalitarian nature of most such games. But even the notion of coming up with a rubric or apparatus to make sense of the game as a whole would be quite an accomplishment...I hope to see such a thing someday.
Thursday, January 10, 2019
20190110.0430
I am running again into the issue of finding it challenging to find things about which to write in this webspace. Given the orientation of my other webspace and my desire not to duplicate work, I am not working on even casually scholarly projects here, things like my Skyward Sword bit (that gets used as a sample in my classes) or one of the occasional pieces I've written on L5R. I still dabble in that work in other places, of course, but much less frequently than I used to do--and not at all here, since this webspace does not speak to the same purposes as the others I have maintained have and do. As I've noted before (though where does not emerge so easily for me as I might like), this webspace is for more personal reflection and occasional artistic endeavors than the other. It seems a bit off to have my more scholarly musings here.
The reverse is also true, I find. There have been times I've tried to post more "artistic" work in the other webspace, whether things that tried to become serial novels or snippets of verse meant to laud other authors through sincerely flattering imitation. They have not gone as well as might have been hoped, and not as well as similar efforts in this webspace have gone. My limerick sequence may not have been ideal, but it did attract some favorable attention, by report; the hymns against the stupid god got a lot more consideration. So I have to think that it is not a matter of skill so much as how that skill interacts in my own mind with the specific online locations of writing. (And I know I've been on that topic before, considering my lone CCC publication back in the days when I thought I might actually be a full-time academic, as well as pieces on my office spaces [here, here, here, here, here, here, and here].) That is, something about the different platforms prompts different responses from me in them, and trying to work against those prompts goes less well than might otherwise be the case.
I am not sure why. There's not much of a difference in the physical locations where I access the different online locations; I write in both while seated in the same chairs, working at the same keyboards. Sometimes, I even attend to them on the same days. So, if the circumstances are largely the same, I have to wonder why it is that I can write decently (I know "well" is a stretch) in one form in one venue but not another, while doing decently in the other form in another venue but not the one. I do not know that finding an answer will do me any good, because I do not think that having an answer will make a difference in how I act. I'll still write what I write, where I write it, and I hope I will stumble further into proficiency as I do so.
The reverse is also true, I find. There have been times I've tried to post more "artistic" work in the other webspace, whether things that tried to become serial novels or snippets of verse meant to laud other authors through sincerely flattering imitation. They have not gone as well as might have been hoped, and not as well as similar efforts in this webspace have gone. My limerick sequence may not have been ideal, but it did attract some favorable attention, by report; the hymns against the stupid god got a lot more consideration. So I have to think that it is not a matter of skill so much as how that skill interacts in my own mind with the specific online locations of writing. (And I know I've been on that topic before, considering my lone CCC publication back in the days when I thought I might actually be a full-time academic, as well as pieces on my office spaces [here, here, here, here, here, here, and here].) That is, something about the different platforms prompts different responses from me in them, and trying to work against those prompts goes less well than might otherwise be the case.
I am not sure why. There's not much of a difference in the physical locations where I access the different online locations; I write in both while seated in the same chairs, working at the same keyboards. Sometimes, I even attend to them on the same days. So, if the circumstances are largely the same, I have to wonder why it is that I can write decently (I know "well" is a stretch) in one form in one venue but not another, while doing decently in the other form in another venue but not the one. I do not know that finding an answer will do me any good, because I do not think that having an answer will make a difference in how I act. I'll still write what I write, where I write it, and I hope I will stumble further into proficiency as I do so.
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
20181127.0430
In conversations with my wife over the long weekend just past, I had occasion to remark about my involvement with various intellectual properties. In my younger years, I spent quite a bit of time, money, and energy consuming such narrative milieus as the Star Trek and Star Wars universes, of Middle-earth, of Asimov's sprawling future history that now looks so quaint even though the clarity of writing remains in force, of Donaldson's chronicles of unbelief and their turgid prose (and I am sure that one shows in what I write more than I might want it to--for several reasons), of Hobb's Elderlings corpus that led to my master's thesis, of Legend of the Five Rings and of roleplaying games more generally. And I am aware that most or all of them have surpassed my ability to access them fully; they are surrounded by critical and fandom apparatuses that exceed me (in most cases; fandom is largely beyond me, though I have a handle on criticism of one of the properties I've listed, at least).
I am not sure how I feel about the matter. I've noted in other places that I'm glad to be free of the dick-wagging that accompanies so much community engagement with the intellectual properties I've engaged with and those similar to them. I've also noted that I miss being able to devote myself to them as I once did--even though I know that engagement is far harder now than when I was young, given the proliferation of nostalgia and the products that cater to it, as well as increased access through various media technologies. There are not enough hours in the day to attend to them all even if that is all that gets attention, and I am not in a position to be able to give myself fully over as I used to be able to do. I cannot afford to be so selfish.
I am also not sure anymore that I want to be. Aside from the simple matter--but important to the kind of little shit that I was and that many people still very much are--of a sex life (which I do not discount), family life is fulfilling in ways that fandom never was for me. To be fair, I've been lucky in my direct experience of fandom; the communities in which I participated were relatively supportive, but part of that support came only because I had a place enforced upon me, and my challenges to it were in the forms accepted by those communities. Those in which I am still engaged are far more casual and more broadly supportive--but, again, I know I am lucky in finding them. Each of us within them has horror stories of others that were...not, and they do not except the "official" fandoms, those associated most closely with or outright endorsed by the owners of the intellectual properties involved.*
My family, though, my wife and daughter, particularly, are far better for me to have than a place among the various fandoms. I am an expatriate of those fandoms no less than of academe, and I return to them as I may, but I do not think I will seek to emigrate from that smaller, greater nation in which I now dwell.
*I am aware, at least peripherally, of the challenges of fan-work and, indeed, of fandom itself, to ownership of intellectual properties in a moral and ethical sense, though not so much in a legal one. The latter seems to be the common understanding, though, and given the general audience I presume to address in this webspace, it is the one with which I am working in this piece.
I am not sure how I feel about the matter. I've noted in other places that I'm glad to be free of the dick-wagging that accompanies so much community engagement with the intellectual properties I've engaged with and those similar to them. I've also noted that I miss being able to devote myself to them as I once did--even though I know that engagement is far harder now than when I was young, given the proliferation of nostalgia and the products that cater to it, as well as increased access through various media technologies. There are not enough hours in the day to attend to them all even if that is all that gets attention, and I am not in a position to be able to give myself fully over as I used to be able to do. I cannot afford to be so selfish.
I am also not sure anymore that I want to be. Aside from the simple matter--but important to the kind of little shit that I was and that many people still very much are--of a sex life (which I do not discount), family life is fulfilling in ways that fandom never was for me. To be fair, I've been lucky in my direct experience of fandom; the communities in which I participated were relatively supportive, but part of that support came only because I had a place enforced upon me, and my challenges to it were in the forms accepted by those communities. Those in which I am still engaged are far more casual and more broadly supportive--but, again, I know I am lucky in finding them. Each of us within them has horror stories of others that were...not, and they do not except the "official" fandoms, those associated most closely with or outright endorsed by the owners of the intellectual properties involved.*
My family, though, my wife and daughter, particularly, are far better for me to have than a place among the various fandoms. I am an expatriate of those fandoms no less than of academe, and I return to them as I may, but I do not think I will seek to emigrate from that smaller, greater nation in which I now dwell.
*I am aware, at least peripherally, of the challenges of fan-work and, indeed, of fandom itself, to ownership of intellectual properties in a moral and ethical sense, though not so much in a legal one. The latter seems to be the common understanding, though, and given the general audience I presume to address in this webspace, it is the one with which I am working in this piece.
Monday, October 5, 2015
20151005.0616
I was able to get the write-up done yesterday, but I think having pushed myself to do so as I had to do is having effects on me. Something is, anyway, and the effects are unpleasant. They are not enough to stop me from doing what I need to do, to be sure, but that does not mean I am happy to have them befall me. Why would I be expected to be? Even if I acknowledge that they are just and appropriate consequences of my actions--and I am not doing so--I need not be happy with them. We do not condemn those who labor in the fields for noting the soreness of their backs, and yet that soreness is a just and appropriate consequence of their work. Why the same should not be true for the work of the mind that I, and those like me, do eludes me.
One of the just and appropriate consequences of being trained to do the work I do is that I have developed a marked tendency to look backwards at things. I keep records, after all, and although there are many reasons for me to do so, the most accessible of them is to review events and impressions from the past. This day and month have not yielded much in this webspace; indeed, only last year did I write in this blogroll on this day. Matters have changed significantly since I was moving into the L5R Winter Court, and while there was some thought that it might be the last to be run--there is always such a thought--the end envisioned was not the same kind of end that now looms large over the IP. I continue to hold out hope that things will be well, but I know that they will change--which is needful for improvement but admits the possibility of its inverse.
The comment that it is "just a game" will suggest itself to some, I know. They are right, at one level; it is a game (a series of them, really), and there are other, much more prominent things with which to be concerned. It is a game with which I have been involved deeply for some time--since I started undergraduate work, so some fifteen years at this point. It is a game that has allowed me to be a part of an international community, one in which my voice has not always sounded out but which has valued that voice when I have used it. It introduced me to a great many people whose friendship I have valued and still value. The game helped me to graduate with honors from my baccalaureate school and get into graduate school, leading me at length to my wife and daughter, and it gave me somewhat to do to help offset a series of unhappy events at one point. So while it is a game, how just it is is far less certain. At least, it is to me.
One of the just and appropriate consequences of being trained to do the work I do is that I have developed a marked tendency to look backwards at things. I keep records, after all, and although there are many reasons for me to do so, the most accessible of them is to review events and impressions from the past. This day and month have not yielded much in this webspace; indeed, only last year did I write in this blogroll on this day. Matters have changed significantly since I was moving into the L5R Winter Court, and while there was some thought that it might be the last to be run--there is always such a thought--the end envisioned was not the same kind of end that now looms large over the IP. I continue to hold out hope that things will be well, but I know that they will change--which is needful for improvement but admits the possibility of its inverse.
The comment that it is "just a game" will suggest itself to some, I know. They are right, at one level; it is a game (a series of them, really), and there are other, much more prominent things with which to be concerned. It is a game with which I have been involved deeply for some time--since I started undergraduate work, so some fifteen years at this point. It is a game that has allowed me to be a part of an international community, one in which my voice has not always sounded out but which has valued that voice when I have used it. It introduced me to a great many people whose friendship I have valued and still value. The game helped me to graduate with honors from my baccalaureate school and get into graduate school, leading me at length to my wife and daughter, and it gave me somewhat to do to help offset a series of unhappy events at one point. So while it is a game, how just it is is far less certain. At least, it is to me.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
20150912.0818
After shenanigans yesterday, I am back, if a bit belatedly. Sometimes, things get in the way. But I am back, now.
Among the things I did to entertain myself yesterday was to look at online discussions of the Legend of the Five Rings games, with which I have been involved for some time, now, as I have discussed. News came yesterday that the property is changing hands, leaving the company that began it for Fantasy Flight Games. I find myself uncertain how to feel about the shift.
I certainly experience shock about the matter. I had been given to understand that L5R was earning a fair bit of money for its now-former company, particularly through the card game (which I used to play but have long since abandoned). I know it had a smallish but dedicated following as an RPG product--largely since I stand among that following, if as a much lesser member. For the company to sell out came as something of a surprise to me--and to many others, as the online chatter has had it.
At the same time, looking back, I can see hints of it coming. The changes to management--some of which have been quite good, I might add--and some of the comments from the higher echelons of the company seem to hint at big changes, and it is not challenging to read them as a lead-up to a table-flipping "Fuck it; I'm out." Given some of what I saw administering the 2014-2015 Winter Court game, I can understand why; I am given to understand that the player base in that game is more or less representative of the player base as a whole, and there are some holes in it. (I leave it to you, dear reader, to guess what kind of hole I mean--and what can be used to fill it.)
And I have had some experience with the new company's products. What I have seen looks good; I have hope that it will be handled well. I suppose I shall have to wait and see what happens--and make sure I have a full set of the books...
Among the things I did to entertain myself yesterday was to look at online discussions of the Legend of the Five Rings games, with which I have been involved for some time, now, as I have discussed. News came yesterday that the property is changing hands, leaving the company that began it for Fantasy Flight Games. I find myself uncertain how to feel about the shift.
I certainly experience shock about the matter. I had been given to understand that L5R was earning a fair bit of money for its now-former company, particularly through the card game (which I used to play but have long since abandoned). I know it had a smallish but dedicated following as an RPG product--largely since I stand among that following, if as a much lesser member. For the company to sell out came as something of a surprise to me--and to many others, as the online chatter has had it.
At the same time, looking back, I can see hints of it coming. The changes to management--some of which have been quite good, I might add--and some of the comments from the higher echelons of the company seem to hint at big changes, and it is not challenging to read them as a lead-up to a table-flipping "Fuck it; I'm out." Given some of what I saw administering the 2014-2015 Winter Court game, I can understand why; I am given to understand that the player base in that game is more or less representative of the player base as a whole, and there are some holes in it. (I leave it to you, dear reader, to guess what kind of hole I mean--and what can be used to fill it.)
And I have had some experience with the new company's products. What I have seen looks good; I have hope that it will be handled well. I suppose I shall have to wait and see what happens--and make sure I have a full set of the books...
Monday, February 16, 2015
20150216.0719
The weather around Sherwood Cottage decided to issue a reminder that winter is still the season here; I woke up to find a blanket of white on the ground and the school where I work delaying its start until noon. (This means I still teach two of my three classes today.) I had honestly hoped that a full stop would be in order, but the administration evidently decided that things will be safe enough to permit travel to the school by noon. Whether that will actually be the case, and whether my students will believe it is the case, I do not know. I expect not, though; when even I wanted a snow day, I could hardly be shocked that my students, already reluctant to be in a class that they "don't need" with a professor who "doesn't know what he's doing," would take one. But I may be wrong; it remains to be seen.
In the event, I get a few extra hours to work on my own materials rather than those demanded by the classroom, and I appreciate it. (I do still need to get to the office to do a bit of grading before the classes that do meet today.) Freelance work continues, and having time to read for it helps (although I will note that the book I am reading now is really bad). I imagine that the Mrs. and Ms. 8 (who turns 1 this week) will be happy to have me around a bit longer, too, although they seem to be enjoying sleeping in. (I remain annoyed at having to sleep, although I seem to need to do so more of late. I do not know why; it precedes my head-cold of last week.) I do have a better work setup at Sherwood Cottage than in my current office, although thinking on it reminds me of the setup I had at my previous job (documented in the December 2014 CCC, I might add) and which I miss greatly. Being home, then, allows me to get a bit more done than might otherwise have been the case, although not as much as was true in other places I have been.
The online L5R Winter Court game I am helping administer is winding down at last. I will have a bit more to do after formal play stops, but it will nonetheless be nice to have one less thing to which to attend. I do wish that I had had more presence of mind with it, both in administering it and in using it to further my research--I have gotten a little bit out of it, but not as much as I might have preferred. Such is life, I suppose, and I can hope to archive or otherwise record some of what happened on its boards so that I can make some use of it in the future. Maybe. For while RPG materials come up in a short talk I am giving via video, they have not much informed my research since my undergraduate days. It is another thing I miss.
There are many such things.
In the event, I get a few extra hours to work on my own materials rather than those demanded by the classroom, and I appreciate it. (I do still need to get to the office to do a bit of grading before the classes that do meet today.) Freelance work continues, and having time to read for it helps (although I will note that the book I am reading now is really bad). I imagine that the Mrs. and Ms. 8 (who turns 1 this week) will be happy to have me around a bit longer, too, although they seem to be enjoying sleeping in. (I remain annoyed at having to sleep, although I seem to need to do so more of late. I do not know why; it precedes my head-cold of last week.) I do have a better work setup at Sherwood Cottage than in my current office, although thinking on it reminds me of the setup I had at my previous job (documented in the December 2014 CCC, I might add) and which I miss greatly. Being home, then, allows me to get a bit more done than might otherwise have been the case, although not as much as was true in other places I have been.
The online L5R Winter Court game I am helping administer is winding down at last. I will have a bit more to do after formal play stops, but it will nonetheless be nice to have one less thing to which to attend. I do wish that I had had more presence of mind with it, both in administering it and in using it to further my research--I have gotten a little bit out of it, but not as much as I might have preferred. Such is life, I suppose, and I can hope to archive or otherwise record some of what happened on its boards so that I can make some use of it in the future. Maybe. For while RPG materials come up in a short talk I am giving via video, they have not much informed my research since my undergraduate days. It is another thing I miss.
There are many such things.
Monday, February 2, 2015
20150202.0638
The Super Bowl is over. I did not watch it, as I have neither television service nor any interest in the sport. Today, I will have to hear about the results--briefly--and then things will move on. It pleases me, for I have better things to do.
One of them may or may not be to attend to Groundhog Day. It is, of course, entirely immaterial, but it is entertaining. And today, at least, is still winter; it is some 12 degrees Fahrenheit as I write this, and temperatures near Sherwood Cottage are not expected to get higher than the mid-30s. I am fortunately provided with warm clothes and ample personal insulation, though, so I do not much mind. I could stand to have warmer feet, though.
Work continues, of course. I pushed through a 4,500-word freelance piece yesterday, for which I expect to make around $100. (Indeed, news about payoff came in while I was writing this.) I look forward to having another come in soon. Too, my students are to submit memoranda to me today, so I will have some grading to do in the next day or two; I probably also ought to draft the next assignment sheet for them. So far, they have been quite good about getting to my office hours; I have already seen more this term than I saw throughout the previous. Having students who care about their grades in time to do something meaningful for them is a refreshing change from normal practice, and I could stand to see it happen more often than it has.
I have not been attending to research as I ought, unfortunately. The work of teaching and grading takes up much time, as does freelancing--and the allure of payout from the latter is compelling. I have also been spending time working on a number of job applications; I sent out three yesterday after finishing the freelance job, and I have at least one that I need to send out today. (I had meant to do it yesterday, but even I can only do so much.) And, in truth, I have been giving time to the L5R pbp game, which is near its end. There is a research survey I have meant to disseminate through it, but I have not put it together yet, and I am not sure at this point that I will be able to do so. I'll make the attempt, though, and get some useful work out of the endeavor.
I suppose, then, that I ought to be about my business. There is enough of it to command my full attention, certainly, even aside from the obligations I have to family. Ms. 8 nears being a year old, and preparations to celebrate that event are underway. She also did a fair impression of an alarm clock with a short-timed snooze button this morning; the alarm is off for the moment, but finding out what shorted her circuits is something the Mrs. and I ought to see about doing.
One of them may or may not be to attend to Groundhog Day. It is, of course, entirely immaterial, but it is entertaining. And today, at least, is still winter; it is some 12 degrees Fahrenheit as I write this, and temperatures near Sherwood Cottage are not expected to get higher than the mid-30s. I am fortunately provided with warm clothes and ample personal insulation, though, so I do not much mind. I could stand to have warmer feet, though.
Work continues, of course. I pushed through a 4,500-word freelance piece yesterday, for which I expect to make around $100. (Indeed, news about payoff came in while I was writing this.) I look forward to having another come in soon. Too, my students are to submit memoranda to me today, so I will have some grading to do in the next day or two; I probably also ought to draft the next assignment sheet for them. So far, they have been quite good about getting to my office hours; I have already seen more this term than I saw throughout the previous. Having students who care about their grades in time to do something meaningful for them is a refreshing change from normal practice, and I could stand to see it happen more often than it has.
I have not been attending to research as I ought, unfortunately. The work of teaching and grading takes up much time, as does freelancing--and the allure of payout from the latter is compelling. I have also been spending time working on a number of job applications; I sent out three yesterday after finishing the freelance job, and I have at least one that I need to send out today. (I had meant to do it yesterday, but even I can only do so much.) And, in truth, I have been giving time to the L5R pbp game, which is near its end. There is a research survey I have meant to disseminate through it, but I have not put it together yet, and I am not sure at this point that I will be able to do so. I'll make the attempt, though, and get some useful work out of the endeavor.
I suppose, then, that I ought to be about my business. There is enough of it to command my full attention, certainly, even aside from the obligations I have to family. Ms. 8 nears being a year old, and preparations to celebrate that event are underway. She also did a fair impression of an alarm clock with a short-timed snooze button this morning; the alarm is off for the moment, but finding out what shorted her circuits is something the Mrs. and I ought to see about doing.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
20150113.0732
So, I am back from MLA, and it is good to be back. I am glad to have slept in my own bed next to my wife, rather than in a hotel bed and alone. I am glad to have seen Ms. 8's smiling face again. I am glad to have sat upon my own toilet, showered in my own shower, and shaved at my own sink. I am glad to be back where I can work--for I have much work to do. I am still not caught up on transcribing my conference notes so that I can use them (I think I am 40% of the way through Friday--and I went to sessions on Saturday and Sunday). Freelance work has come up once again (which is good, for I need the money). Teaching should have resumed yesterday, but I was in transit, so I was obliged to arrange for coverage (easy on the first day, as handing out syllabi and course calendars is not so difficult); I have catching up to do on that score.
I have catching up to do on others, as well. While I walked all about downtown Vancouver (and my feet feel it), I have not done the more formal exercise I had begun before leaving; I will return to it tomorrow. I have not resigned from helping with the online L5R Winter Court, after all, even if I did arrange to be away while I was away. As I am no longer away, I probably ought to look into it again. Too, there remain job applications to treat and papers to write; I am still looking for a permanent position (I do not have one, as I believe I have noted more than once), and MLA is not the only conference I will attend this year. (There are two others: the International Congress on Medieval Studies and SCMLA. For the former, I am already obliged to deliver a talk. For the latter, I have an idea I want to run by people; I can hope it will get accepted.) And I do still need to send things out in the hopes of getting them published, as doing so will help me (possibly) get one of those permanent positions I seek.
It is good, then, that I am home today. I am in my chair and at my desk again, where I know who I am and what I can do. Coffee is brewed to help me with it, and I will soon have a bit to eat to help me move along a bit more swiftly and powerfully. In and around taking care of Ms. 8, then, I should be able to get a fair bit done--or so I hope. If not, it is going to be quite the long week for me, even if it has started perhaps later than it ought to have done. But that would not be unusual; it is part of the profession in which I currently find myself, and I ought not to complain overmuch about it.
I have catching up to do on others, as well. While I walked all about downtown Vancouver (and my feet feel it), I have not done the more formal exercise I had begun before leaving; I will return to it tomorrow. I have not resigned from helping with the online L5R Winter Court, after all, even if I did arrange to be away while I was away. As I am no longer away, I probably ought to look into it again. Too, there remain job applications to treat and papers to write; I am still looking for a permanent position (I do not have one, as I believe I have noted more than once), and MLA is not the only conference I will attend this year. (There are two others: the International Congress on Medieval Studies and SCMLA. For the former, I am already obliged to deliver a talk. For the latter, I have an idea I want to run by people; I can hope it will get accepted.) And I do still need to send things out in the hopes of getting them published, as doing so will help me (possibly) get one of those permanent positions I seek.
It is good, then, that I am home today. I am in my chair and at my desk again, where I know who I am and what I can do. Coffee is brewed to help me with it, and I will soon have a bit to eat to help me move along a bit more swiftly and powerfully. In and around taking care of Ms. 8, then, I should be able to get a fair bit done--or so I hope. If not, it is going to be quite the long week for me, even if it has started perhaps later than it ought to have done. But that would not be unusual; it is part of the profession in which I currently find myself, and I ought not to complain overmuch about it.
Monday, December 29, 2014
20141229.0910
The end of the year is approaching, and there is an impetus to look back over the year. There is an impetus to look back more generally, perhaps to this time a year past. Now, as then, I consider the writing that I do, spending time putting words into these pages instead of onto other pages where they might earn money for me and my household or else put me into a position to be better able to earn money for me or my household. Now, as then, I maintain that the few minutes I spend in putting these pieces together serve to prepare me for the other writing work that I do, that they help me order my thoughts and accustom me to writing for audiences other than me. However small they may be.
Writing is a curious thing, though. I write much, not only in this webspace and in the too-infrequent postings to such other projects as this, but also in my work as a freelancer, a scholar, and a teacher. I also write much for my leisure; I have noted being on staff for the online L5RRPG event, and since it is a play-by-post game, nearly all of the activity for it is written. The writing I do in that context may be viewed as "lesser," as not worth attention, particularly against the other concerns, but it is still writing, and it is writing with an audience; it offers practice in things that this webspace and many of the other contexts in which I write do not--and cannot. But that will be another discussion entirely.
Even with the writing, though, with all the practice in it that I do get, I sometimes have trouble finding words to say. I sometimes have trouble finding ideas to try to put into words--or into other words than I already find them. Sometimes, as today and other days I have noted but do not care to find again at this point, I have ideas earlier than I can sit down to treat them, and they vanish between the having and the treatment time. (I am sure I could dress this up in some lovely metaphor, probably a medical one that serves as a biting commentary on health care systems. That, too, is another discussion.) They leave their traces behind, but I am not a hunter to be able to follow them to the animal I have wounded or hope to wound for meat and a trophy. (I cannot escape metaphor, it seems.)
I am not alone in it, certainly. Words are symbols, simulations, and simulations always miss things. They have to do so to be able to be used as simulations--if they have all, then they are the same, and not similar. Words themselves lose, and none of us knows all the words. I and others search for the right ones, the best ones, ones not yet known, perhaps. But there are always better words to be found.
Writing is a curious thing, though. I write much, not only in this webspace and in the too-infrequent postings to such other projects as this, but also in my work as a freelancer, a scholar, and a teacher. I also write much for my leisure; I have noted being on staff for the online L5RRPG event, and since it is a play-by-post game, nearly all of the activity for it is written. The writing I do in that context may be viewed as "lesser," as not worth attention, particularly against the other concerns, but it is still writing, and it is writing with an audience; it offers practice in things that this webspace and many of the other contexts in which I write do not--and cannot. But that will be another discussion entirely.
Even with the writing, though, with all the practice in it that I do get, I sometimes have trouble finding words to say. I sometimes have trouble finding ideas to try to put into words--or into other words than I already find them. Sometimes, as today and other days I have noted but do not care to find again at this point, I have ideas earlier than I can sit down to treat them, and they vanish between the having and the treatment time. (I am sure I could dress this up in some lovely metaphor, probably a medical one that serves as a biting commentary on health care systems. That, too, is another discussion.) They leave their traces behind, but I am not a hunter to be able to follow them to the animal I have wounded or hope to wound for meat and a trophy. (I cannot escape metaphor, it seems.)
I am not alone in it, certainly. Words are symbols, simulations, and simulations always miss things. They have to do so to be able to be used as simulations--if they have all, then they are the same, and not similar. Words themselves lose, and none of us knows all the words. I and others search for the right ones, the best ones, ones not yet known, perhaps. But there are always better words to be found.
Monday, December 8, 2014
20141208.0735
Today is the first day of exams week, and today is the first day I give an exam during the week. My literature class will get done today, and I will be putting in some final-touch type grades on my technical writing classes in preparation for their examinations on Wednesday and Friday. Thus, while I will be busy, I will not be so busy as I have been, and I will have a bit of time to focus my attention otherwise. This is good, for I have no shortage of other tasks requiring my attention.
I had hoped that some of that attention would need to be given to more freelancing work. I do not have an order waiting for me, however, either through the exchange that gives me most of my work or through the private channels that send occasional bits my way. This disappoints, because I do feel compelled to pick up another few gifts, and having the additional money would be of great help with that. Perhaps orders will come in later today.
Some attention probably ought to be paid to my work on the Tales after Tolkien Society blog, Travels in Genre and Medievalism. I have not posted to it since last month, and while others ostensibly contribute to it, I have not had submissions from other sources for some time. There are ideas growing in the fertile soil of minds; harvest them and grind them into flour for baking or malt them for brewing, that we may eat and drink deeply!
Some also ought to make its way to the ongoing search for a continuing-line job. I remain pleased with the way I am treated where I currently work; I am voicing no complaints against it. But I am on a term contract, as I believe I have noted several times before, and I would like to have less worry about whether or not I will have a job next year. Hence the search. I know that its success will not eliminate worry, but it will diminish it significantly.
A chunk will doubtlessly find itself devoted to the online game I am helping supervise. With over 100 players and some 20 staff (including me), there is a lot going on in that community, and I am entertained to watch it and gratified to participate in it. And I have an idea for a Tales after Tolkien Society piece that may make use of the community; I can turn my work on it into work I should be doing. Possibly. The results will determine if I may or not...
Finals week is the beginning of when I can attend to such things in earnest. It is not without its own challenges, of course, but those challenges are much more easily managed than those of the semester as a whole. Too, there is a near, definitive ending to them, and that is a thing greatly to be appreciated. I am not ungrateful for it, and so it is with somewhat lightened heart that I approach it now, going to do what it is that I need to do.
I had hoped that some of that attention would need to be given to more freelancing work. I do not have an order waiting for me, however, either through the exchange that gives me most of my work or through the private channels that send occasional bits my way. This disappoints, because I do feel compelled to pick up another few gifts, and having the additional money would be of great help with that. Perhaps orders will come in later today.
Some attention probably ought to be paid to my work on the Tales after Tolkien Society blog, Travels in Genre and Medievalism. I have not posted to it since last month, and while others ostensibly contribute to it, I have not had submissions from other sources for some time. There are ideas growing in the fertile soil of minds; harvest them and grind them into flour for baking or malt them for brewing, that we may eat and drink deeply!
Some also ought to make its way to the ongoing search for a continuing-line job. I remain pleased with the way I am treated where I currently work; I am voicing no complaints against it. But I am on a term contract, as I believe I have noted several times before, and I would like to have less worry about whether or not I will have a job next year. Hence the search. I know that its success will not eliminate worry, but it will diminish it significantly.
A chunk will doubtlessly find itself devoted to the online game I am helping supervise. With over 100 players and some 20 staff (including me), there is a lot going on in that community, and I am entertained to watch it and gratified to participate in it. And I have an idea for a Tales after Tolkien Society piece that may make use of the community; I can turn my work on it into work I should be doing. Possibly. The results will determine if I may or not...
Finals week is the beginning of when I can attend to such things in earnest. It is not without its own challenges, of course, but those challenges are much more easily managed than those of the semester as a whole. Too, there is a near, definitive ending to them, and that is a thing greatly to be appreciated. I am not ungrateful for it, and so it is with somewhat lightened heart that I approach it now, going to do what it is that I need to do.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
20141202.0921
I know that I am posting later than I normally do; the morning has been busy. I have already completed a bit of freelance work today, which please me no end, and I have been working with the online L5R PbP RPG I have noted before. It has formally begun, so what leisure time I have is being devoted to it at this point--and it helps me by giving me practice writing, negotiating competing demands from international audiences, and storytelling (so I need not feel quite so guilty about doing things other than work). And I have been attending to other things, as well.
That said, I do feel some obligation to make a post to this webspace. I have, as I recall, waxed poetic about the demands of writing for a public audience--even one as small as mine tends to be (I do look at the reader statistics thoughtfully provided by the platform). More, I find myself much in mind of something I have seen attributed to the Good Doctor: "I write for the same reason I breathe--because if I didn't, I would die." My feeling for writing is not quite so strong (obviously, or I would be a *lot* more productive), but it is of the same sort; I write because I have a need to do so, and I write here because I feel a need to do so. Thank you, then, dear readers, for helping me meet one of my needs.
There are other needs, of course. The Maslovian hierarchy applies, I think, at least in part; my writing is a higher-order need than others I yet feel. For I am not at all certain of my security or of the esteem in which I and others hold me. (I have spoken to anxieties about the former on more than one occasion--not all of the training, formal and informal, I received as a graduate student has been to my benefit.) And I offer the statement not as a plea for cheap statements of validation; any that would come in the wake of this piece would register as shallow and reflexive, iterations of pity and condescension (whether intended so or not). It is simply a thing that is.
Perhaps I write as a backwards approach to the Maslovian, using what I perceive as my "thing to do" as a means to secure the ostensibly more fundamental levels of need. And perhaps that is why I remain ill at ease; I am approaching things in reverse. (It may be that Maslow is a bit off. I am not informed enough about psychological issues to be able to speak to that end; I would welcome input from those who are.) Whatever the reason or effect, however, I write because I must, here and elsewhere; I have no doubt that I will continue to do so, and I nurture the hope that it will work to my benefit and that of those for whom I care.
That said, I do feel some obligation to make a post to this webspace. I have, as I recall, waxed poetic about the demands of writing for a public audience--even one as small as mine tends to be (I do look at the reader statistics thoughtfully provided by the platform). More, I find myself much in mind of something I have seen attributed to the Good Doctor: "I write for the same reason I breathe--because if I didn't, I would die." My feeling for writing is not quite so strong (obviously, or I would be a *lot* more productive), but it is of the same sort; I write because I have a need to do so, and I write here because I feel a need to do so. Thank you, then, dear readers, for helping me meet one of my needs.
There are other needs, of course. The Maslovian hierarchy applies, I think, at least in part; my writing is a higher-order need than others I yet feel. For I am not at all certain of my security or of the esteem in which I and others hold me. (I have spoken to anxieties about the former on more than one occasion--not all of the training, formal and informal, I received as a graduate student has been to my benefit.) And I offer the statement not as a plea for cheap statements of validation; any that would come in the wake of this piece would register as shallow and reflexive, iterations of pity and condescension (whether intended so or not). It is simply a thing that is.
Perhaps I write as a backwards approach to the Maslovian, using what I perceive as my "thing to do" as a means to secure the ostensibly more fundamental levels of need. And perhaps that is why I remain ill at ease; I am approaching things in reverse. (It may be that Maslow is a bit off. I am not informed enough about psychological issues to be able to speak to that end; I would welcome input from those who are.) Whatever the reason or effect, however, I write because I must, here and elsewhere; I have no doubt that I will continue to do so, and I nurture the hope that it will work to my benefit and that of those for whom I care.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
20141026.0813
Oh, what a joy it is to have woken up in my own bed!
I doubt not that it can be guessed from the brief snippets I have posted in the past few entries, as well as the skipped day, that I have been away. I was, in fact, in the Texas Hill Country to present a paper at the South Central Modern Language Association conference (once again) and to visit family (since I was in the area). It was a good trip; the conference went well, with my paper being received much more favorably than I had anticipated and a colleague and me appointed to leadership positions at the next conference, which will be in Nashville. Seeing the family was also good, although, as noted, Ms. 8 did end up taking some kind of cold (and giving it to her father).
Even so, coming home is always a pleasure for me. Much as I love The Work and my people, I fare better when I am where I ought to be, in that place into which I have extended myself and made part of me, as I have discussed at least once. Knowing where things are without having to look for them and being able to call upon present resources without worry are things I appreciate. And, as I have noted, I construct my home-space as an externalization of myself, so that for me to be away from it is to have my being divided; to return to it is a repatriation of myself to myself, so that I feel more nearly whole. (I say "more nearly" because my wonderful Mrs. and Ms. 8 are both still away, and both of them have a part of me, as well.)
Glad as I am to be back at Sherwood Cottage, though, I realize that there is much for me to do to get things back to how they ought to be. The trip took me away for a week, so I will have much grading to do, beginning soon after I finish posting this piece. There is also freelance work for me to consider, and I am certain there are developments in my L5R RPG activities that will need attention that only I can provide. At the very least, I will not be bored; I have a surfeit of stuff to do. But that is a regular thing, as it happens; there are always many things to do, and rarely does the time suffice to them all. Particularly with a mild head cold...
Still, if I am to make the attempt to do all things for all people, I am better off doing so here in my home than elsewhere. I may not have *all* of what I need for The Work and the other work that supports it, but I have much of it, and I have the comfort in which to work swiftly, well, and long. And that having is not something for which I am ungrateful. Rather the opposite, in fact, is true.
I doubt not that it can be guessed from the brief snippets I have posted in the past few entries, as well as the skipped day, that I have been away. I was, in fact, in the Texas Hill Country to present a paper at the South Central Modern Language Association conference (once again) and to visit family (since I was in the area). It was a good trip; the conference went well, with my paper being received much more favorably than I had anticipated and a colleague and me appointed to leadership positions at the next conference, which will be in Nashville. Seeing the family was also good, although, as noted, Ms. 8 did end up taking some kind of cold (and giving it to her father).
Even so, coming home is always a pleasure for me. Much as I love The Work and my people, I fare better when I am where I ought to be, in that place into which I have extended myself and made part of me, as I have discussed at least once. Knowing where things are without having to look for them and being able to call upon present resources without worry are things I appreciate. And, as I have noted, I construct my home-space as an externalization of myself, so that for me to be away from it is to have my being divided; to return to it is a repatriation of myself to myself, so that I feel more nearly whole. (I say "more nearly" because my wonderful Mrs. and Ms. 8 are both still away, and both of them have a part of me, as well.)
Glad as I am to be back at Sherwood Cottage, though, I realize that there is much for me to do to get things back to how they ought to be. The trip took me away for a week, so I will have much grading to do, beginning soon after I finish posting this piece. There is also freelance work for me to consider, and I am certain there are developments in my L5R RPG activities that will need attention that only I can provide. At the very least, I will not be bored; I have a surfeit of stuff to do. But that is a regular thing, as it happens; there are always many things to do, and rarely does the time suffice to them all. Particularly with a mild head cold...
Still, if I am to make the attempt to do all things for all people, I am better off doing so here in my home than elsewhere. I may not have *all* of what I need for The Work and the other work that supports it, but I have much of it, and I have the comfort in which to work swiftly, well, and long. And that having is not something for which I am ungrateful. Rather the opposite, in fact, is true.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
20141015.0724
I do not think I have made any secret of my participation with the Legend of the Five Rings Role-playing Game, having only last Friday written about its most recent supplement and before that having discussed it a few times. And my engagement with the game has not been limited to that; I am even now on the GM staff for the official online play-offering, the Winter Court, having played twice in it before and having participated in the even nerdier activity of live-action role-playing at GenCon over a decade ago. I have invested a fair bit of time and money into the game, and a fair bit of thought.
In discussions, one of the tensions of the genre of game has come up repeatedly. As a game, the RPG has rules that should be followed to ease and optimize play, to help things be a fair and presumably fun experience for all involved. But an RPG is not really supposed to be competitive, Steve Jackson parodies notwithstanding; it is supposed to be a collaborative endeavor in which a group of people come together to tell a story for which they are themselves the audience. (Here, I follow Daniel Mackay's assertions in The Fantasy Role-playing Game: A New Performing Art.) The tension that arises is between adherence to the rules and adherence to story, between the letter of the law and the spirit in which the letter was written. And it provokes many rancorous arguments.
If part of the goal of the RPG is to simulate reality, to offer a secondary sub-creation (and here I channel Tolkien) into which audiences can enter easily and maintain their Coleridgean willing suspension of disbelief because that sub-creation corresponds in many or most points to the observable reality of the audience, then the fact of its provoking such arguments is a mark in its favor. For it is very much the case that the divergence of what is written and what is true animates much discussion, often vituperative, in the world in which we live--and not only in the games we play. (Sports also see it happen, I might note, so that it is not "just some nerd thing" that the minutiae get argued.) Various readings of the US Constitution, for example, or of whichever Scripture happens to be valued in a given place all see it happen, and people die because of the results. Or kill. (I might add that it makes learning how to read things well more important--but I teach reading for a living, so I would say such things.)
I come down on the side of story over rules, as those who know me know. I have abused the rules, at times, and I still look for advantage at times. But I believe that it is far better to be concerned with the narrative than with the mechanics (and, really, any world where magic works has to allow for rules to be broken). We do not remember the formal techniques Achilles used or Lancelot, but rather that they fought and why they thought, after all...
In discussions, one of the tensions of the genre of game has come up repeatedly. As a game, the RPG has rules that should be followed to ease and optimize play, to help things be a fair and presumably fun experience for all involved. But an RPG is not really supposed to be competitive, Steve Jackson parodies notwithstanding; it is supposed to be a collaborative endeavor in which a group of people come together to tell a story for which they are themselves the audience. (Here, I follow Daniel Mackay's assertions in The Fantasy Role-playing Game: A New Performing Art.) The tension that arises is between adherence to the rules and adherence to story, between the letter of the law and the spirit in which the letter was written. And it provokes many rancorous arguments.
If part of the goal of the RPG is to simulate reality, to offer a secondary sub-creation (and here I channel Tolkien) into which audiences can enter easily and maintain their Coleridgean willing suspension of disbelief because that sub-creation corresponds in many or most points to the observable reality of the audience, then the fact of its provoking such arguments is a mark in its favor. For it is very much the case that the divergence of what is written and what is true animates much discussion, often vituperative, in the world in which we live--and not only in the games we play. (Sports also see it happen, I might note, so that it is not "just some nerd thing" that the minutiae get argued.) Various readings of the US Constitution, for example, or of whichever Scripture happens to be valued in a given place all see it happen, and people die because of the results. Or kill. (I might add that it makes learning how to read things well more important--but I teach reading for a living, so I would say such things.)
I come down on the side of story over rules, as those who know me know. I have abused the rules, at times, and I still look for advantage at times. But I believe that it is far better to be concerned with the narrative than with the mechanics (and, really, any world where magic works has to allow for rules to be broken). We do not remember the formal techniques Achilles used or Lancelot, but rather that they fought and why they thought, after all...
Friday, October 10, 2014
20141010.0631
I recently received a copy of the Legend of the Five Rings (L5R) RPG supplement The Book of Void (ISBN 978-1-59472-073-4, MSRP US$39.99) and read through it. It is a relatively slim volume, approximately 200 pages, so it did not take me long to read through the six chapters ("The Void of War," "The Void of Magic," "The Void of Peace," "The Void Within," "The World Is Not the World," and "Nazo Mori: The Forest of Enigmas") and the appendix in which the mechanics introduced to the game are related. Throughout, the book makes a valiant attempt to relate the philosophical, cosmological, theological, and epistemological concepts associated with the Void--a "fifth element" in the traditional four-elements scheme--to the milieu of L5R as a whole. While it necessarily falls short of a full accounting--a gaming manual cannot serve as a deep investigation of such concepts and still do what it needs to do as a gaming manual--The Book of Void does admirably at suggesting the pervasiveness of Void in the physical, social, and spiritual settings of L5R.
It also does better than many L5R supplements at offering narrative. Any tabletop RPG is fundamentally an exercise in storytelling, and having exemplary narratives does much to foster continued tale-weaving. The Book of Void follows other L5R supplements in beginning its text and each of its chapters with a vignette; more than most of the other supplements, though, it provides narratives within the text, not only using them to illustrate aspects of in-game culture, but actually ascribing stories the vaunted mechanical functions prized by many gamers. (As a scholar of literature and a believer in its transformative power, I am pleased to see that stories within the game have life of their own, at least in a fashion, and can work transformative power upon their audiences.) It does have the effect of making the book something of a miscellany, but cultures are not neat and tidy; having a miscellany suggests an authentic messiness for the L5R milieu, easing Coleridgean suspension of disbelief and allowing for a better narrative immersion.
This is not to say that the book is perfect, however. The producing company has long-standing habit of not proofreading as well as it ought to, and while The Book of Void appears to suffer less from that habit than have other texts, it still has surface-level problems that distract and annoy. Too, Chapter Six seems to take a Lovecraftian tack which, if realized, would have profound implications for the theology and cosmology of the game. (The book motions toward, but does not fully engage, them in other places.) The authors seem unwilling to pursue the Lovecraftian overtones, however, or to do so fully; the text seems to shy away from presenting Cthulhoid imagery where it would work quite well. The reasoning presented is that the players should have options, and while allowing them means that players who own the text cannot be certain what they will face when they play the game, it also means that the narrative force is somewhat weakened. For a game that relies upon narrative for its play, this is a problem.
Even so, however, The Book of Void is a fine supplement. It refines earlier discussions in the game and adds new ones to be had, and it presents mechanics that are reasonably well balanced for play (as well as suggestions for how to keep them that way). It does both amid a number of smaller stories that illumine the milieu for the benefit of those of us who tell stories within it, and that is something to be appreciated.
It also does better than many L5R supplements at offering narrative. Any tabletop RPG is fundamentally an exercise in storytelling, and having exemplary narratives does much to foster continued tale-weaving. The Book of Void follows other L5R supplements in beginning its text and each of its chapters with a vignette; more than most of the other supplements, though, it provides narratives within the text, not only using them to illustrate aspects of in-game culture, but actually ascribing stories the vaunted mechanical functions prized by many gamers. (As a scholar of literature and a believer in its transformative power, I am pleased to see that stories within the game have life of their own, at least in a fashion, and can work transformative power upon their audiences.) It does have the effect of making the book something of a miscellany, but cultures are not neat and tidy; having a miscellany suggests an authentic messiness for the L5R milieu, easing Coleridgean suspension of disbelief and allowing for a better narrative immersion.
This is not to say that the book is perfect, however. The producing company has long-standing habit of not proofreading as well as it ought to, and while The Book of Void appears to suffer less from that habit than have other texts, it still has surface-level problems that distract and annoy. Too, Chapter Six seems to take a Lovecraftian tack which, if realized, would have profound implications for the theology and cosmology of the game. (The book motions toward, but does not fully engage, them in other places.) The authors seem unwilling to pursue the Lovecraftian overtones, however, or to do so fully; the text seems to shy away from presenting Cthulhoid imagery where it would work quite well. The reasoning presented is that the players should have options, and while allowing them means that players who own the text cannot be certain what they will face when they play the game, it also means that the narrative force is somewhat weakened. For a game that relies upon narrative for its play, this is a problem.
Even so, however, The Book of Void is a fine supplement. It refines earlier discussions in the game and adds new ones to be had, and it presents mechanics that are reasonably well balanced for play (as well as suggestions for how to keep them that way). It does both amid a number of smaller stories that illumine the milieu for the benefit of those of us who tell stories within it, and that is something to be appreciated.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
20141005.0847
One of the things that has been keeping me occupied is work with the online Legend of the Five Rings Winter Court. I am on the staff this time after playing twice before, and things have opened up somewhat for it. Shepherding--or horse-herding, as the case more nearly is--has begun, and it is actually entertaining. Then again, it would be; I have been engaged in L5R stuff for a while now, including some more formal discussions of it. And there are aspects of the work of doing so that remind me of teaching when the teaching works well; the players are like engaged students, looking to work together on something in which they have a shared interest and do the necessary outside reading to be able to do it well.
There are, of course, the...less pleasant to deal with, both in the game and in the classroom. They can never be wholly avoided, and some emerge as matters develop. It is happening in the online forums where the game will be occurring. (Play has yet to begin. Character development has begun, and background development has been in process for a while.) One or two are coming off as pedants who seem bent on being "right" despite the likely fallout, and one or two others are looking for ways to use the system to break the system. Those of us charged with oversight are only human, and we are waiting for things to happen that will allow for...correction. They inevitably do--as is true of the classroom as well.
How things will progress, I do not know. It looks as if people are already having fun with the thing, which is good. I have seen pedantry and system-breaking ruin things that start out well, though, and I have to worry that the actions of a few will poison what the rest get to have. And not only in the game--some of the classes I teach got off to a decent start, but in one or two, there are a couple of people who seem bent on screwing around with things. Why they would do so, I do not know. Perhaps they feel they have to compensate for something. Perhaps it is the only way they know to validate themselves. Perhaps also they have been steeped in the belief that those of us who teach do so because we cannot do (damned Shaw again), or in the belief that the professoriate "hates all that is good" or some such thing. But I cannot do with my students as I can with those in the game; in the latter, the offenders can be ejected, while in the former, although I have the technical right to do so, exercising that right is...problematic. And I have to consider that my own insecurities might be at work...
People wonder why I spend time with RPGs as I do, why I read the things I read when my reading time is my own (which is not so often, anymore). Some of the answers should be obvious.
There are, of course, the...less pleasant to deal with, both in the game and in the classroom. They can never be wholly avoided, and some emerge as matters develop. It is happening in the online forums where the game will be occurring. (Play has yet to begin. Character development has begun, and background development has been in process for a while.) One or two are coming off as pedants who seem bent on being "right" despite the likely fallout, and one or two others are looking for ways to use the system to break the system. Those of us charged with oversight are only human, and we are waiting for things to happen that will allow for...correction. They inevitably do--as is true of the classroom as well.
How things will progress, I do not know. It looks as if people are already having fun with the thing, which is good. I have seen pedantry and system-breaking ruin things that start out well, though, and I have to worry that the actions of a few will poison what the rest get to have. And not only in the game--some of the classes I teach got off to a decent start, but in one or two, there are a couple of people who seem bent on screwing around with things. Why they would do so, I do not know. Perhaps they feel they have to compensate for something. Perhaps it is the only way they know to validate themselves. Perhaps also they have been steeped in the belief that those of us who teach do so because we cannot do (damned Shaw again), or in the belief that the professoriate "hates all that is good" or some such thing. But I cannot do with my students as I can with those in the game; in the latter, the offenders can be ejected, while in the former, although I have the technical right to do so, exercising that right is...problematic. And I have to consider that my own insecurities might be at work...
People wonder why I spend time with RPGs as I do, why I read the things I read when my reading time is my own (which is not so often, anymore). Some of the answers should be obvious.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
20140628.0840
I yesterday received a copy of the newest addition to the Legend of the Five Rings Roleplaying Game, Sword and Fan. Written by Marie Brennan and others, the book presents information about the world of Rokugan taken from the perspectives of two major in-milieu texts: the Book of Sun Tao (modeled after Sunzi's Art of War) and Otomo Madoko's The Subtlety of the Court (an extended application of the Book of Sun Tao to diplomatic settings). Discussed are strategy and tactics (and the differences between the two), the use of cavalry, in-milieu factional conflicts, refined etiquette, seasonal politics, and outsider politics; new game mechanics are presented in an appendix in the back. Overall, the volume is an excellent addition to the materials for the fourth edition of the L5RRPG.
This is not to say the volume is perfect; there are some flaws which mar the otherwise superb work. One is minor, but annoying: erratically throughout the text, italicization is misused. This is not in the sense of putting into italics what should not be; it is in the sense of individual characters within words that are otherwise italicized (and should be) appearing in plain type. It suggests a lack of attention to detail and implies that other parts of the text may not have received the kind of inspection and consideration that they ought. The implication is confirmed by how clunky some of the mechanics in the appendix are. Some of the quirks in the presented techniques make sense, given their thematic flavor and the need to be adaptable across more than twelve hundred years of in-milieu history. Others, however, seem to be heavy-handed attempts to balance power, and while power-balance in a game meant to be fun for all players is good, principles of good storytelling (with which L5R and RPGs generally are concerned) suggest that the mechanisms underlying the story be kept hidden.
There is far more good in the text than bad, however. The extended discussions of battlefield and courtly strategies and tactics are welcome. In particular, the more exacting discussions of etiquette and protocol included in the three political chapters are helpful; much of the culture of Rokugan appears in its forms of etiquette, and help in navigating those forms promotes engagement with the milieu and thus a more immersive storytelling experience. Too, the major fictional thread that unites the book is handled well. Detailing a conflict over a particular province, it exemplifies the theories discussed in the main text of the book, including that of the ultimate power of the political over the directly martial. Further, the way in which the vignettes are divided creates the impression of a long time spent in study on a read-through of the book. The events depicted span some time, and reading through the book carries the reader through that time. At the end, then, the reader has the impression of having been deeply in contemplation of the work across a significant span, fostering a sense of wisdom that appropriately echoes the study of major cultural touchstones.
Sword and Fan will doubtlessly be useful to me as I run more games and play in them. I have the notion that it will also be useful away from the gaming table, which I appreciate and may, at some point, discuss in this webspace.
This is not to say the volume is perfect; there are some flaws which mar the otherwise superb work. One is minor, but annoying: erratically throughout the text, italicization is misused. This is not in the sense of putting into italics what should not be; it is in the sense of individual characters within words that are otherwise italicized (and should be) appearing in plain type. It suggests a lack of attention to detail and implies that other parts of the text may not have received the kind of inspection and consideration that they ought. The implication is confirmed by how clunky some of the mechanics in the appendix are. Some of the quirks in the presented techniques make sense, given their thematic flavor and the need to be adaptable across more than twelve hundred years of in-milieu history. Others, however, seem to be heavy-handed attempts to balance power, and while power-balance in a game meant to be fun for all players is good, principles of good storytelling (with which L5R and RPGs generally are concerned) suggest that the mechanisms underlying the story be kept hidden.
There is far more good in the text than bad, however. The extended discussions of battlefield and courtly strategies and tactics are welcome. In particular, the more exacting discussions of etiquette and protocol included in the three political chapters are helpful; much of the culture of Rokugan appears in its forms of etiquette, and help in navigating those forms promotes engagement with the milieu and thus a more immersive storytelling experience. Too, the major fictional thread that unites the book is handled well. Detailing a conflict over a particular province, it exemplifies the theories discussed in the main text of the book, including that of the ultimate power of the political over the directly martial. Further, the way in which the vignettes are divided creates the impression of a long time spent in study on a read-through of the book. The events depicted span some time, and reading through the book carries the reader through that time. At the end, then, the reader has the impression of having been deeply in contemplation of the work across a significant span, fostering a sense of wisdom that appropriately echoes the study of major cultural touchstones.
Sword and Fan will doubtlessly be useful to me as I run more games and play in them. I have the notion that it will also be useful away from the gaming table, which I appreciate and may, at some point, discuss in this webspace.
Friday, January 31, 2014
20140131.0650
I think I have mentioned before that one of the pleasures with which I have indulged myself is playing tabletop role-playing games--rolling dice and telling lies, as I have described it to people in the past. Throughout my collegiate career, both at the undergraduate and graduate levels, I was fortunate enough to have access to excellent groups of gamers: the House of Lowe Thor's Day Wrecking Crew (in the Alamo City) and the Gamers of the Haven and the Booth-Sitters (both in Hub City in Cajun Country). Playing with them was an excellent experience for me, and while there are some things I very much ought to have done differently, I feel that it was good for me to do.
In The City, however, I struggled to find groups with which I could meet regularly and that would play my favored game--L5R. Several short-lived campaigns sprang up, progressing irregularly for a while before dying away. I was fortunate enough to participate in some online L5RRPG, as well, although some of those did not work out as well as I would have had happen, either. So I have in some senses languished as a gamer, and I feel the lack.
That I should feel such is overly sentimental, I know. It is something like high school or college athletes looking back on glory days after their bodies have begun to soften and the demands of daily life have begun to tell upon them and remembering when the small part of the world in which they lived was bent to their wills, attendant upon their whims. Like such cases, there is something sad (I am sure) in my looking back at sitting around a table in a garage or shed or shop, laughing and joking with friends as we worked together to tell a story in which we were all taking part and which connected us with a worldwide community (to which I have had the good fortune to contribute).
Unlike such cases, however, I can in some senses return to such things. Sherwood Cottage stands in a college town, and my work puts me in contact with other gamers. I have not acted to further that contact as much as I ought in the past, but that is changing, and I think it is to my benefit that it is. Once again, I will be able to be part of a group of people telling a single story, working to craft a narrative in the moment of its performance, serving simultaneously as authors and audience in the extemporaneous ephemeral art (as Daniel Mackay calls it; I have studied such things in a formal sense). And for it I thank both those loyal people who have gamed with me through campaigns in The City and the countryside and those who are coming newly to my table.
We will craft an epic together, and your names will carry forward for so long as I can find my way back to friends and dice and fun.
In The City, however, I struggled to find groups with which I could meet regularly and that would play my favored game--L5R. Several short-lived campaigns sprang up, progressing irregularly for a while before dying away. I was fortunate enough to participate in some online L5RRPG, as well, although some of those did not work out as well as I would have had happen, either. So I have in some senses languished as a gamer, and I feel the lack.
That I should feel such is overly sentimental, I know. It is something like high school or college athletes looking back on glory days after their bodies have begun to soften and the demands of daily life have begun to tell upon them and remembering when the small part of the world in which they lived was bent to their wills, attendant upon their whims. Like such cases, there is something sad (I am sure) in my looking back at sitting around a table in a garage or shed or shop, laughing and joking with friends as we worked together to tell a story in which we were all taking part and which connected us with a worldwide community (to which I have had the good fortune to contribute).
Unlike such cases, however, I can in some senses return to such things. Sherwood Cottage stands in a college town, and my work puts me in contact with other gamers. I have not acted to further that contact as much as I ought in the past, but that is changing, and I think it is to my benefit that it is. Once again, I will be able to be part of a group of people telling a single story, working to craft a narrative in the moment of its performance, serving simultaneously as authors and audience in the extemporaneous ephemeral art (as Daniel Mackay calls it; I have studied such things in a formal sense). And for it I thank both those loyal people who have gamed with me through campaigns in The City and the countryside and those who are coming newly to my table.
We will craft an epic together, and your names will carry forward for so long as I can find my way back to friends and dice and fun.
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