The Dragon Tank

Obama Axes Pentagon Plan To Build Billion Dollar Tank In Shape Of Dragon

In for penny, 

Up for an ENnie

The maps for my Sellswords of Punjar are up for an ENnie award. As always, it's great that our work (specifically the work of Carto-Rex) is being recognized, but ... man, the writing by my companions-in-arms in Isle and Portal was really, really good and deserves to be recognized. 

Grumble. 

Though in fairness, it is a sign of vainglorious times indeed, when a creator is bitter that his team's work is only up for one award. Heh. How lame am I? Lame indeed.  

My consolation is that the art for Death Dealer is, as the critic said, "seven shades of awesome." C'mon, ENnies 2010!

//H

KQ Interview: Joseph Goodman

Probably only of interest if you have a stake in the RPG business. Still a good interview, and some great insight into this hobby we love. 

//H

I still ... live. 

Man, it's been a while since I've been over here. If anyone has been checking in, thank you, and I hope not to let you down again. But the pre-Gen Con push is finally past us, so it looks like I might be stopping over a bit more. 

With my birthday around the corner, it's becoming increasingly poignant how important my friends are to me, and – consequently – how much I miss them. To cure myself of that lethargy (and because I didn't have a word count deadline tonight!) I picked up my deck and went out to skate. 

Now, for context, I used to skate all the time at night. There was a period in college when, considering my evenings, I actively had to make the decision between allotting my most productive hours to either writing or skating. 

You'll notice I didn't publish a lot during college. 

That's since changed, and now I do most my skating in the mornings, and mostly at the skate park. But because of the way I "came of age," daylight skating and park skating have always felt like placeholders for the real thing: skating street after the sun goes down. 

And as I dragged my body out into the darkness, I was struck by the very strong sense that I was making a mistake, that my days (nights) of hitting the concrete hard after dark had passed me by. 

More powerfully, was the realization that I didn't even see them go. 

But I'm nothing if not stubborn, so I hit the hill and beat my way down to the church, with its new parking asphalt parking lot, and low ledges. 

And of course, it was magical.

An hour later, I made it back home, scraped and bleeding, but also feeling more at home in my body than I have for a while. 

Feels good to be posting again. Feels good to be skating after dark. Choose Death still lives. 

//H