(Photo by the incomparable Alina Sandu)

We don’t write enough.

Well, that’s not strictly true; I for one operate in an almost entirely text-based space, and as I have very few social obligations and a barely-functional mobile phone, I have almost managed to remove speaking from my life entirely and replaced it with written words.

I quite like that.

There’s something much more… polite, I suppose, about writing down what you need to say and firing it off rather than engaging in the often-confusing art of conversation, whether that’s over the telephone or face-to-face. I can craft my responses. I can use my skills. I can write a second or a third draft of an email and come across as carefree and witty and debonair, and not stutter through my first mouthfart of a comeback as I do in meatspace.

But I’ve spent the last two months either with my nose buried in my book – which is nearly through the arduous second draft, and fast-approaching the terrifying process of sending it out to preview readers and thinking about a synopsis and maybe trying to make some money from it – or firing off articles to magazines that I will never be able to read. My writing feels private and hidden, or clinical and professional; aside from a weirdly successful bit on roleplaying that I published, there’s been nothing that’s found purchase in the world.

So it’s time to write more. To make a mark on the world, however small, to exert my will over words and throw them out into the void hoping they skip like stones. And not sink, also like stones. Similes are a weakness of mine. I could stand to improve those.

This is all derived from a conversation with my wife, who said she wanted to write more, and sort-of-challenged me to 10 consecutive days of blogging. Then I started writing this post and realised 10 days didn’t sound like an awful lot, so I bumped it up to 14, then I realised that I’m going to be at PAX Australia all next weekend and that might make posting to schedule difficult if not impossible. So I stuck with 10.

So that’s the deal; she and I blog every day, at least once a day, for the next ten days. I have no idea what the hell I’m going to write about, so suggestions are welcome. Incredibly welcome. If you’d like to join us, to make a load of tiny marks together, then you’re more than welcome. There should probably be a hashtag or something.

The blog posts:

DAY ONE: Hey kids, let’s all meet the GIN WIZARD
DAY TWO: “A detailed summary of everything that’s ever happened to you up until you read this comment. Details I am especially interested in are meals and dreams.”
DAY THREE: The Panoptinomicon
DAY FOUR: The Thursday Night Wednesday Night Dungeoncrawl
DAY FIVE: On writing, on making marks, on depression

DAY SIX: Rockstarting out slow
DAY SEVEN: How can the Milgram Experiment help us run better livegames?
DAY EIGHT: The Department of Narrative Administration
DAY NINE: Behind the scenes on the Wednesday Night Dungeoncrawl


Categorised in: Diary

5 thoughts on “10 days of blogging

  • Bill says:

    You’ve managed to monetise aspects of your life most people place somewhere on a continuum between ‘pleasing time-waster’and ‘hobby’.

    Write a blog post about the first time someone payed you to create a game or gameful experience – how did you find out about the gig, why did they pick you, what were the pressures involved, what did it teach you.

  • Konrad says:

    You definitely write too little. I scan my feeds hourly and it’s always a pleasure to see something new from you. Why don’t you write for some of the more prominent game-blogs? RPS comes to mind.

    Also, the layout of the comment section is slightly askew. There’s a checkbox next to “Name*” which probably belongs to “Notify me of follow-up comments…”. It took me the most part of a minute to figure that out, thinking about why I would want to “check” Name when I’d have to enter it anyway.

    • grant says:

      Very kind! RPS have a pretty arcane applications system, I’m told, and as I’m on the opposite side of the world from them it’s often hard to get their attention. (I used to specialise in preview events, back when I was in London, and those are few and far-between in Sydney, apparently) But you’re right. I’ve always liked their stuff and I should probably get off my arse and start pitching to ’em.

      Thanks for the heads-up on the comments; I’ll talk to tech support (read: my wife) on that and see if we can’t get it ironed out.

  • Will says:

    I would like a detailed summary of everything that’s ever happened to you in your life up until you read this comment. Details I am particularly interested in are meals and dreams.

  • Leave a Reply

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

    This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.