I want to be on that guest list!

If God Invited you to a party
And said, "Everyone
In the ballroom tonight
Will be my special Guest,"
How would you treat them
When you
Arrived?
Indeed, indeed!
And Hafiz knows
There is no one in this world
Who Is not upon
His Jeweled Dance Floor.
-Hafiz

We started zikr with this poem last night. This past year has been the year of suck for in the realm of social circles, and I'm trying hard to see the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel, and all the other happy and optimistic cliches I am oh so well at espousing.

First there's the ongoing oddness of generally being the only person of color in any given room at any given moment 'round here. Sometimes I can feel being the other more than other times. Like at GenCon 2007, I felt like I had a sign on my back that said, "Negress Writes RPG's to Scare You." Ouch. You have it all wrong folks! This year the sign read, "Tentacle Sex", and I didn't feel as othered. Go figure. Even still, I took a break from game design and the online social network. I'm getting back on the horse now, and am happy and excited to do so. No real story there, except maybe the one about the vicious name calling from a misogynistic twit that I apparently pissed off for having and offering an opinion. That and he was made of crazy. Actually there were a few attacks from said twit, which ultimately clouded the rest of my gaming on-line social circle in suck.

It was that Othering feeling that broke the deal with church and me. That and not feeling the churchy Jesus Christ Superstar vibe any more. It's meant that where I found a new spiritual community, it will be some time before I've cultivated it enough to bring my kids in. My heart still aches every time I pass the building, though.

Meanwhile, there was the ongiong drama in my real life gaming (and otherwise) social circle. In some ways, I think it relates to being Othered. In some ways the drama makes me feel Othered. At a party last week, I wasn't the only person of color, but I was the only person that one other person has spent the entire past year compartmentalizing me into a box of deliberate misunderstanding. Things were less awkward and ugly than they've been in months, but after a year of feeling excluded from the much of Club Fun of Once a Friend, the smoldering non-engagement still burned. Ouch! You have it all wrong!

That's about 1/4 of the story, only half of my point of view, and all I have to offer. Can I even say that? Well, I did, and I'm not taking it back. Someone's treating me like shit and has built up a good year's worth of justification, and it sucks. On my end. I don't presume to know what the other side feels like, and it's been made clear to me that I'm not allowed to know. Okay.....

I used to think I was pretty good at standing up for myself and cutting losses quickly and efficiently, but I've spent too much time this past year declaring that I was being treated unfairly, and when nothing changed, I held out hope that people would figure it out and play nice, and I stuck around or came back. In the big and less personal circle of game designers it's easier to brush myself off and move on. We can't like everyone we meet at GenCon. I have more stories to tell, and I think somone will enjoy them. In the small and intimate circle of local friends, I don't have anywhere else to go. Can I realistically break ties with people I love and care about because of one person? No. That's like gouging out one's eye to remove a fleck of dust.

On the upside (here's my perennial optimist shining through! Welcome back, dear!), I've had a year of affirming and strengthening the relationship with my bestest friend, Mr. Ellingsgard, who has listened to me whine from start to finish about how things have sucked this past year. He is my strongest and favorite circle.

Hafiz's poem resonates with me because I am a perennial optimist who really believes that we, me included, are all one of God's special invited guests on the Jeweled Dance Floor. Perhaps it's what put me in this predicament in the first place. I love a good party, and if God's in charge of the guest list, I want to be there, and I want everyone to feel welcome and invited (yeah, even the misogynisitc twit and Club Fun of Once a Friend). Including the folks who don't share this view of humanity on a macro or micro level. And perhaps I am the Other for only as long as I see myself as the Other. Yeah, that's a good one. I hope I start believing it this coming year.

Picture of Rabi'a al-Adawiyya, my Sufi namesake. ("Your what?" For another time.)

Ferragamos, Hush Puppies, or Keens?

I think my crazy Target heels that I bought this summer (and wore once--I don't do heels as much as I'd love to, I'm tall enough!) We should all be so lucky as to have the chance to throw shoes at soon-to-be-former-president-but-obviously-not-soon-enough-for-most-of-the-world Bush.

Hey look! Now you can throw a loafer at STBFPBONSEFMOTW Bush.

Yes he was a fast dodger, yes no one near the stage made any real overture to block him, but what struck me most was STB... Bush's smug and smarmy response "so what if he threw a shoe at me?" Yeah. So what?

Worst. President. Ever. How many days till the nightmare is over?

Lucky Goose

I picked up the official 2008 Christmas Goose today. It's a fine lean and meaty bird, weighing in at a bit over 8 pounds. When I tried to pay for it, the farmer didn't have enough change to give me. "I'll buy something else." I said, and started looking around the very empty and unheated storefront/office. They used to sell all kinds of stuff like locally made sauces, spices, and game meat. The spices and sauces still sat on the shelves. The refrigerated case was empty (I'll miss the venison sausage in the stuffing this year.)

"Well, I'm giving all those things away. Take whatever you want," she said.

I picked up a bottle each of blueberry vinegar, cranberry vinegar, garlic wine vinegar, and dill infused sunflower oil, and brought them to the counter. If I had paid for them, it would have come to about $5 more than the change for the goose. "Really, I'm giving those away. Pick up a few more...I'll be right back." Said the farmer. While she went into the back room, I picked up an extra bottle of blueberry vinegar, cranberry vinegar, and herb blends #1 and 3.

She returned a minute later with a big box of more sauces and preserves. "Call it even?" She said.

"Okay." I said, stunned.

She opened the cash register and handed me a $5. "I'm really giving this all away." She said. I'll feel better if you take the five. You carry the goose, and I'll bring out the box. I'm not sure how sturdy it is."

On our way out the door, she put a couple jars of spices in the box. She put the box in the back of the Jeep, I thanked her profusely, and we went on our way.

When I got home I took all the jars and bottles out of the box and tallied the prices from the bottom of the jars. If I had paid for it all it would have cost about $115. I only needed $12.85 change from paying for the goose after she gave me $5. Here's what she put in the box. They're all locally produced from various small food companies or farmers, and/or from local produce:

Apple cider BBQ glaze, garden chili sauce, HOT red pepper relish, pickled dill beans, apricot butter, fig preserves, teriyaki sauce, ponzu sauce, szechuan sauce, garlic wine vinegar, cranberry vinegar, blueberry vinegar, two types of herb vinegar, dill infused sunflower oil, lemon pepper, ground basil, and cajun style blackened seasoning.

Picture credit: http://www.fotolog.com/fmsbotelho/15522875

Steal Away Jordan: The Man vs. Black Panthers & Nation of Islam

I get a guilty pleasure out of thinking up outlandish scenarios for Steal Away Jordan. It's a guilty pleasure because my mom, the History Professor, and head of the African American Studies Department at University of Memphis, would probably think they're not very tasteful. But Steal Away Jordan is not an educational game, it's a role playing game, and if you learn something, it's not likely to be history.

I have a couple I plan to run at Dreamation. One is set in West Africa, at the very beginning of the middle passage. The "masters" are other Africans who are about to sell you to the Spanish traders at the shore.

The other is a totally over the top homage to the Boondocks' Story of Catcher Freeman. Players are encouaged to abandon historical fact, embrace convenient anachronisms, and play as if the game were a movie directed by Spike Lee, and produced by Oprah Winfrey and Quentin Taratino.

And now the one of the title of this post. Set during the Civil Rights era, again, abandon the real historical facts and have fun playing your favorite and least favorite 1960's persona. Malcom X, Stokely Carmichael, or Martin Luther King, Jr., and Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. would make great Conjurers, George Wallace would be a fantastic Master. You could plan the greatest March or Protest (i.e. "Rebellion") that never happened. Round up every black person in the nation to march on Alabama or something.

Sorry, mom. Stay tuned.

Joyful Girl

Two years ago, round this time, I really hated my job (see Sing it, Johnny, The Camel's back..., and ...you utterly suck). What a difference two years makes. I love my job (see many more recent posts). I really love my job even when I really don't want to like my job.

I have a really awful work schedule this month, and it makes me a rather crabby. I'm working every weekend, I have two stretches of work days where I work 4 out of 5 days, and I'm working 20 miles away from home, where I could be working less than two, had I been scheduled to work at the Greenfield site. I can't see the rhyme or reason for scheduling me this way.

So I'm at work. It's Monday. I worked Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I'm unhappy to be here. One of my patients is talkative to excess. She's nice, but just doesn't stop talking. I'm grumpy. I don't let it show. I don't take my moods out onmy patients, but for a moment, I'm irritated that she doesn't stop talking, and I'm at work for the 4th time our of 5 days in a row.

Just before I leave my talkative patient's room she says, "You're a really nice and sweet person. I wish you had been my tech the last time I was here, because you made me feel at ease." She continues to gush about what a nice person I am, and how well I've been caring for her for a good minute. I am flabbergasted. I thank her, I smile, I thank her again, I tell her I'm happy to that I'm a help to her. I feel the letters A-S-S burn across my forehead.

It gets better. Or worse. My patient wakes up with muscle spasms. I help her to the bathroom. When she's back in bed, she reaches out her hand to me. I hold it. She grasps my hand tightly. "Thank you." She says, "You're a wonderful person." More praise ensues. Again, I tell her that I'm happy to help. Because I am.

I still wish I were at home, in bed, asleep, snuggling my love, and whichever smallish person who sneaks into our bed needing snuggles. But I am happy to be here, helping a stranger sleep better, treating her with about all the patience I hold at the moment. Still, it would be nice if time sped up a bit right now.

Eid Mubarak, ya'll.

Broken People

I live in a fairly small town in a smallish rural area of a small state on the East Coast. I work in health care, directly with patients, on an intimate level. I watch people sleep. But before I do that, I connect them head to toe with EEG's, EKG's, EMG's, respiratory belts, pulse oximeters, and nasal canulas. I touch people heads, I scrubs spots on their scalps. The whole set up of a sleep study takes 35 minutes to an hour.

That's plenty of time to get to know someone. Few people barely say anything to me. I pissed one patient off because I insisted he wear a shirt, and he punished me with silence. He was the only patient I was glad not to speak to. He came there looking for a fight. He got a hippie in a lab coat and nitrile gloves who didn't budge. Most people, at the very least, tell me about their sleeping habits and/or health issues. Many people tell me that, plus they tell me about their families, lives, jobs, etc. In turn, I tell people somewhat scripted, but sincere stories about my kids, how much I love my job, role playing games, my cats, my educational background, etc. I'm there for them, and they don't really need to know about me. I need to know about them, and I need to maintain an empathetic but professional distance.

I have patients who request me for their second sleep study with CPAP titration. I see former patients everywhere, all the time. It's a joy to hear about how well their home treatment is going, how getting a good night's sleep has changed their lives, etc. Being requested and being recognized make me happy. I love the feeling of making a positive difference.

Several of my patients have physical and mental health issues, which might be exacerbated by their sleep problems. In the past few weeks I've had a few broken people. A few more than usual? Not sure. Some get broken by circumstances, lack of access to adequate or preventative health care, bad cards, bad choices, etc.

Recently I had a patient who was broken by someone else. Someone close to her, and the abuse touched everything and everyone around her. It became her defining moment. I won't go into details, it's not my story to tell. What she told me had nothing to do with sleep problems. It explained a little why she was on so many medications, maybe why she was so nervous. I had her again for a CPAP trial a few weeks later. The first thing she told me was that she had not been doing well lately, that she had changed some of her medications, she wound up in a mental hospital for a few weeks, and even though she had the same room for the sleep study, the same tech (me, and she had requested me), and the same set up other than the added CPAP, she was even more afraid. Without her telling me any of this, it was clear she had to make an effort to keep it together.

And as before, she was hopeful that something would change with her. A new treatment, the constant of her support network (luckily she has a good one, too), she plans to cut her hair, and start fresh.

I'm not really going anywhere with this. I'm a little haunted by my patient and her story.The defining moment for this person was quite heinous and while she tries to rise above the trauma, it still haunts and trips her. After a week of celebration of national and global hope and change, I encountered someone desperate for a little of that light on the local level. At the very least, I hope she'll be able to sleep a little better.

Photo credit: Chris Anthony (remember him from the joy of Paintalicious? Man, he rocks!)

My country is made of win!

Yes we are!

It's Tuesday!

Is it Tuesday yet?

I'm watching MSNBC at work as I type this. Election news and political commentary have become my heroin. I need to kick it now. So Tuesday morning, when I get home from work, before I go to bed, I'm going to vote and then sleep. No news, no computer, no tv until 8 pm. That's the plan anyway. Wish me luck.

I'm really looking forward to playing Apocalypse World on Wednesday knowing that Barack Obama is the President Elect. I'm really enjoying this game. I like my character, Mary (a Brainer). She's fun to play. Elizabeth's character Damson (a Battlebabe) and Mary have one of the most fun hateful rpg relationships ever.

How sad is it that I'm having trouble writing this post, because I'm distracted by an Obama speech on C-SPAN. I'll try again in a few days.

Apocalypse World=fun. Playing Mary=fun. Politics in the last 48 hours of an election=not fun. Barack Obama=President=happy! November 5th=Apocalypse World and no more election! (God willing...)

Paintalicious Makes Me Happy

I've been spending too much time reading about the election. It's horribly distracting, and I'm really fed up with the micro-reporting of unimportant bytes. I'm considering not watching the debates tonight, just so I can get my life back. I know whom I'm gonna vote for, I'm even a little confident that my guy will win. Perhaps I need to jump off the political train wreck.

Steve sent me a link to a tentacle sex picture today. I couldn't access the link, so I went to the main website, and what a site it is. I also liked the octopus affection prints of Chiara Bautista. So go now to paintalicious.org and forget about that dirty old man and the witch doctor-blessed lipstick-wearing-barracuda-shaped talking balloon for just a moment. It will all be over soon, and they will go away.

We're playing a really fun game right now. I want to say more, but I just woke up (worked last night) and I'm not feeling particularly eloquent, so I'll refer you to the art of Chris Anthony, which reminds me of my character.

Thanks, Steve!

Ode to Coffee

There's a thread at Mothering.com about coffee. You wouldn't know it now, but I used to love coffee. Then something happened.

I started drinking coffee in one form or another when I was 6 years old (and at 5' 10", it didn't stunt my growth, which is one the things it allegedly does). At various times in my life I've enjoyed up to 6 cups a day. Towards the end of the day I'd switch to decaf. I'm not terribly sensitive to caffeine, but I respect my limits. To say I loved my java was an understatement. My middle name is Jo, by the way.

I used to work in a cafe before cafes were ubiquitous. I learned how to make perfect cappucinos, Turkish coffee, I learned how to roast even. In college, every major paper I wrote for my Biology classes had something to do with coffee. If you pricked my finger, I'd bleed coffee.

One of my best memories of being an exchange student in Japan when I was 15 is drinking coffee with the local government representatives. None of the other gaijin would touch it. I had about 3 small cups of coffee. I felt cool!

When I was pregnant with Ingrid, something changed overnight. My body rebelled. I had my small pregnant lady size cup of joe, and ten minutes later I'd have horrible stomach cramps. I switched to decaf. Same thing happened. I started using soy milk instead of cream. No change. I started drinking it black with a little sugar. No change. I tried just black. No change. I felt like I was dumped by a lover because I got pregnant. It broke my heart to give up coffee, although my gut thanked me.

Then the smell of fresh coffee started to make me sick, as did the smell of chocolate and strawberries. After Ingrid was born, I could eat chocolate again, until Ingrid developed a milk allergy, and strawberries were back on the olfactory menu. But not coffee. Ingrid is 3 1/2 and I still get a little sick when Chris makes a pot. And he usually buys the good fair trade organic stuff, no flavoring. I still go to cafes, but I sit away from the counter. I still like the smell of fresh ground, just not brewed.

I miss coffee.

Jesus & Moses: Community Organizers

Pharoah and Pontius Pilate:
Executive Experience.

Just sayin'.


This is your nation on white privilege.

Next Week I Return to the Stabbing

Anyone wonder where his or her pretty Fisherman's Wife book is? I have them. I'm working on them. After GenCon, mundane life jumped on me, school started, I went back to work, had a birthday (I'm 38!), went back to being a Wife myself, and those fleeting hours devoted to bookbinding fled. Next week looks calmer. My work schedule is much kinder, Bea's settled in school, so I'll finish them up and mail them.

Here's something fun to tide you over. Click on the image to see it bigger, then make your own word cloud:

Speaking of Bea, my cool 9 year old has taken up the drums in band. She's a rocker chick in the making!

Whatcha Eating?

From Very Good Taste

Here are the directions

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (but I've had alligator)
6. Black pudding (I have blodpudding in my fridge as I type this! YUM!)
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (fried waterbugs)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Boot Girl

Okay, let's pretend for just a moment that GenCon never happened. That would be a terrible thing, because GenCon was actually quite fantastic for the most part. Fisherman's Wife did well, even though I am still binding and sending out the fancy versions. And it was such a pleasure to meet new people and see old friends.

The drive to and fro was loads of fun. Couldn't ask for better travelling partners than Tom and Graham. I learned so much slang, and engaged in potty humor. There were tragedies, like how I left all the unbound text of Fisherman's Wife and access to cash at home. And as if I needed reminding why I married Chris, the apple of my eye, my beloved FedExed my books, and I sold out of every one. Fisherman's Wife was mentioned in Ken Hite's "The New Hotness" column of the GenCon program. Steal Away Jordan did okay, all things considered.

I played a meaner, crueler pirate than Abyssinia from last year's Poison'd game. This time I played Seamus McShee, a woman disguised as a young man, who went from grumpy gunnery master to captain. Highlights of Captain McShee's career included ordering the cook and surgeon to cut up the body of a vanquished captain and feed him to his crew, and holding a red hot coin in the surgeon's hand because s/he disobeyed my command. Not a pleasant fellow. I also played a hard drinking space trooper Corporal Maggie "Shamrock" O'Malley in 3:16 (very much a pleasant fellow), and got through the darkest and saddest Fisherman's Wife with Ron Edwards.

But let's pretend none of that happened for now. Let's consider John McCain's $520 Ferragamo loafers. That's crazy! I mean they're okay, but he could've paid $90 for a similar pair of Kenneth Coles, and not gotten ridiculed about his footwear. And I can certainly appreciate a pair of Ferragamos.

I understand, Senator McCain, I have a shoe thing myself, rather, a boot thing. I get it from the woman who introduced me to Ferragamos, Dr. Bond, my shoe and handbag loving mom. I loves me some boots, especially lace up boots and cowboy boots. For the past few years, I've plunked down a few bucks for fashionable and comfortable boots. Not $520 a pair, but then again I know I own only one house. Maybe if things were different... Anyway, my birthday is coming up, and most years I treat myself just for the sake that I exist. A dubious reason to buy yet another pair of shoes, but there it is. Maybe if I ran for president I'd have a better excuse. This year was no different. See above, my hot new Made in the USA Lucchese western style boots. I think they're way cuter than Senator McCaine's Ferragamos.

A shared love of shoes does not a president make, though. I'm still an Obama Mama--in my freakin' awesome Night Cactus Lucchese Cowgirl boots that I got for a [relative] steal from Grapevine Hill!.

Revving up for GenCon!

Cross posted at Stone Baby Games:

I'll be at GenCon this year dividing my time between The Forge/IPR and the Ashcan Front booths, and will have games available at each: Steal Away Jordan at The Forge/IPR and Tales of the Fisherman's Wife at the Ashcan Front.

I've been hard at work on the latter. All the books will be hand-bound and full color. I'll have about 12-15 extra special editions. No two covers will be alike, and they'll have 5 extra collaged images. Tales of the Fisherman's Wife is for mature audiences. At one point I had considered making available a "clean" version, but I'm running out of time! And the design concept for the book a Japanese pillow book. In that spirit (and in the spirit of the game), the book contains sexually graphic images (classic ukiyo-e shunga).

Tales of the Fisherman's Wife is and ashcan, but I do know the game works and it's fun. Here's what makes it "ashcanny": there is an untested mechanic, which in theory sounds very fun. I want to see it in action though. While I've played the game several times, I want more play-testing. I want to know how it plays when I'm not there. Also, this game lends itself well to creating beautiful custom hand bound versions. I want to get good at it, and practice makes perfect.

So what do you get by buying a really pretty ashcan? It depends on what you do with it. Within the next six months, hopefully you'll play it. (It takes no more than 2 hours for a whole game!). Then you'll post your play report at the Forge, or Story Games, and let me know about it. Or send me feedback by email on the text or the mechanics. If you do this, you get a free pdf of the official release, a hard copy at printing cost, or a custom hand bound edition at a discount.

I have not decided on a price for either the basic or special hand bound versions. I will have pictures of some of the special ones soon, but I'm up to my ears in book binding right now. I may not post anything until after GenCon!


And here's more (what I'm not quite ready to disclose on my "buy my games" website, heh heh) : The elevator pitch for Tales of the Fisherman's Wife could well be "A sex positive roleplaying game for lovers with demons and octopuses." Yeah. It's a tough concept to market, which is another reason why it's still an ashcan. I would love it if I could sell this game in other venues beyond games stores. See ya in a couple weeks or sooner.

Returning to my crafty roots

We just came back from vacation in New Harbor, Maine, where we go every year. We have a family cottage on the ocean. We spent a week walking around Damariscotta and Wiscassett, checking out Fort William Henry, Fort Edgecomb, and Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. Quick! Go find a US quarter--the Maine one. Look on the tail side. That's Pemaquid Lighthouse. They also have a fisherman's museum, which was very fascinating and inspiring for Tales of the Fisherman's Wife. Being in a fishing village had its own bit of inspiration, too, so much so that I'm just about done with the text. I'm aiming to be done with the text next week.

So I'm taking Tales of the Fisherman's Wife to GenCon as an ashcan. This evening in the shower I decided that perhaps pre-orders might be a good thing. I won't announce it at the Stone Baby Games website just yet. A shower-birthed idea needs time to dry off, but if I do decide on pre-orders, here's a preview of my spiel:

Tales of the Fisherman's Wife is a quick role-playing game for two to four players. The Fisherman is about to leave for the sea. Whenever they part ways, they have a few little ritual. The Fisherman asks his Wife how many nets he's mended, and what his boat is like. The Wife asks the Fisherman how long he will be at sea, and what premonitions he has of his journey. Then the couple exchange six words which they each weave into a quick parable about their own story.

The Fisherman and his Wife go their separate ways. While they are very ordinary people, they both attract all manners of demons and ghosts who try to seduce, serve, devour, possess, or supplant them. In defense, the Fisherman and his Wife attempt to seduce, enslave, steal power, merge, or destroy their preternatural visitors.

The game is set in the Japan of the Ukiyo-e woodblock prints, but is more about the working class consumers of this art. The original inspiration for the game is
the Hokusai print Dream of the Fisherman's Wife. This simple setting--a Japan that exists in art and folklore--offers games themes that can be sensual and erotic, creepy and horrific, or somewhere in between.

Fisherman's Wife is designed to be played in one session, and will appeal to seasoned roleplayers and non-roleplayers alike. It uses a standard deck of playing cards.

The ashcan version of Tales of the Fisherman's Wife will be a miniature hand bound collage book, with handmade paper cover, and full color illustrations throughout(with a few exceptions). No two books will be alike, although the text and pagination will be the same. There will be several versions to choose from:

* Pacific--Full color, illustrated with Ukiyo-e, your choice of mature audience (joyfully and bizarrely graphic erotic images), or general audience (naughty pictures replaced by more full color images of Japanese ghosts and demons).

* Atlantic--Some full color, illustrated with images of life by the sea European style, your choice of mature audiences (naughty images of European Fishermen and their Wives) and general audiences (naughty images replaced by vintage illustrations of sea creatures.)

So you can gift the game to your mama or your lover. All books will be signed and numbered. If you pre-order I can inscribe it for you, too. Price will be somewhere between $[rethinking pricing and can't commit]. I'm still gathering supplies. The dimensions will be somewhere in the park of 5.5" x 7" and 7" x 5", and about 22 pages short. Short game, short text, pretty pictures, pretty handmade book.

Here's how I envision pre-ordering will work. If you pre-order and will be at GenCon, I will give you your book at the Con. If you won't be there, I will likely (realistically) assemble and ship after GenCon. There's a good chance I will offer a less labor intensive (still fully illustrated and in color) version (the "Pacific" series, both adult and general) at GenCon as well, for about $10.

If I don't do pre-orders, and after writing all this, I can't see why I shouldn't, the only thing that won't happen is you won't be able to get a personally inscribed book. Before I got into game design and rpg's, I was (still am) a crafty chick, working mostly with fiber, but dabbling occasionally in collages and bookmaking, among other things. TOFW is the perfect project to combine my love of handmade things (see my hand made banner on the left), and homegrown storytelling.

I'm looking forward to making these books, and I've enjoyed working on TOFW. This week, if my box of handmade paper arrives in the mail, I'll put together two prototypes to see what style book works best.

Which brings me to another shower thought--a reflection on the past year with Steal Away Jordan. Quite a rewarding and character building experience. I'll save it for another time.

Since I don't have a real preview to speak of (and this is really a preview of the preview), here are some of the design elements and resources I will be using to make my books.

Articus Studio Design. I love this place.
Washi paper.
ATC (artist trading cards).
Ukiyo-e Gallery (No copyright laws will not be violated in the making of the book.)
Art credit

Getting ready for GenCon

JiffyCon, yay! I did two games of Tales of the Fisherman's Wife, which went amazingly well. I got some excellent feedback, and when we go to Maine next week, I hope to spend a nice chunk of time working on the TOFW text. I'm going to take it to GenCon as an ashcan and be part of the Ashcan Front booth.

I also got to play Steal Away Jordan as a player and not GM for the first time. My character was a 30 year old pregnant runaway seamstress, and one of my goals was not to give birth on the road. I completed my tasks and failed at my goal. Evan Torner, the awesome GM ran a game that was the funniest Steal Away Jordan ever. It was certainly a tragicomedy. There was a sacrificial suicide, a haint induced birth (my character's), a terrible betrayal which caused another character to get caught (we were runaways), and the hope and promise of freedom for a nine year old. It rocked! I like playing my game!

I'm also going to be working at the Indie Press Revolution/Forge booth, working the cash register and stocking the shelves. I will not be demoing Steal Away Jordan. SAJ is my first attempt at game designing, publishing, and selling. What a long strange trip this past year has been. I mean that in a 75% good way, and the 25% unpleasantly strange trip has been character building, to say the least.

All that to say that I do not plan to demo Steal Away Jordan at GenCon. First, logistically it just wouldn't be fun. I really want to push Tales of the Fisherman's Wife. Demoing is emotionally and physically draining. This GenCon I want to work my ass off and have fun, too. Secondly, demoing Steal Away Jordan is particularly emotionally taxing, and not in the positive character building way.

Okay, I'm going to say it, and gentle reader, especially you gentle gamers out there, please don't take this the wrong way. I am well aware that SAJ is not for everyone. I get that some folks out there find it off-putting to game race, and no matter how many times I deny it in a podcast, in a 15 minute demonstration of my game, race is what a good number of people will focus on even if I say, "this is a game about historical narratives and [African American] folk tales..." And I'm well aware that my skin color and gender are not typical among gamers and game designers. Last year at GenCon I felt my blackness and womanness--my otherness--more than I've ever felt it before.

Steal Away Jordan was not meant to be an "educational" game. African American history is rich in adventure, drama, and story, which to me seems to be perfect material for a role playing game of the "story game" type. It's not a game designed to make people feel bad or guilty about where they come from. Steal Away Jordan is not a game about hopelessness.

In other words, I don't want to spend my weekend explaining and defending my work (a celebration of my American cultural heritage) to people who glom on to my otherness. I was described as a "nice black lady" in one review, and my ethnicity was mentioned in several other reviews of the game. It would be naive of me to say I don't know why it matters, but the uppity part of me says, why should my race and gender matter? And maybe I'm actually a mean black lady! I don't think the writer meant it to be patronizing, but... Anyway, I'm taking myself out of the equation with the hope and fear that my otherness may be a barrier to some people's interest in reading the text and trying the game.

That said, I'm really looking forward to GenCon. I'm excited about seeing and playing with the kind people I met last year. I'm looking forward to buying some cool games and eating sushi.

I can't believe I bought this dress

So I wear lots of patchwork-hippie, simple shirt and skirt combos. I sort of have a uniform. It's a style that works for me. My clothes are practical for a mom with two kids.

I've been wanting to get one of those cute handmade patchwork hippie dresses with the ties in the back, but I can't ever find them in my size. One that would have been a perfect fit came up on eBay recently, and I almost bid on it. Ultimately the price was too steep. I had just bought yellow kimono sleeve patchwork dress to wear to JiffyCon, and I didn't have much more to spend. (Come to JiffyCon and you'll see!)

I really like the new JiffyCon dress, but it's makes me feel a little crunchier than usual. Silly as this may sound-it is a fluff post, after all-I want to go on a fashion adventure this summer, get gussied up, and go out on a hot date with Chris. I feel the urge to branch out of my earth mama hippie crunchy sugar magnolia mold.

So on a whim I started looking for less crunchy dresses. I tried to push out of my comfort zone. I found that I like the halter top maxi dress style. It retains some crunch, and still looks charming and hot date worthy. I narrowed the choices down to 7, and I showed them to Chris. He helped me eliminate 4. In the end, this shimmery salmon backless plunging neckline floor-length halter won out. Even better, it was floor-length for little old 5' 9" me. Even better still, it was my size. It's as far out of my comfort zone as one can get. Chris said he picked another dress over this one because he wonders if I'll wear it. It's up there with the pirate bikini I got last summer in Puerto Rico as far as how much skin I tend to reveal. I wore that (a couple times). I picked up the vintage lace paisley shawl to go with it. The shoes I got a few weeks ago. I also got two packages of adhesive bras. Adhesive Bras! I just got a dress where the only bra I can wear more or less consists of giant band-aids.

Thanks to the platform heels and the lace shawl, the look retains just the right amount of crunchiness that I won't feel completely out of my skin. My mom had a shawl like that from the 70's.

So the big question of the day is "where the heck am I going to wear this dress?" Who knows, but I can't wait to go.

JiffyCon this Saturday!

Come one, come all to JiffyCon this Saturday. More details at the official JiffyCon website.

I’m running Tales of the Fisherman’s Wife, and Evan Torner is running Steal Away Jordan. I’m thinking about playstorming Murder Ballad Blackjack to put it back on track, but we’ll see.

See ya’ll there! I make no guarantees, but I have no plans to get sick this time.

I was a new mama today

Nine years ago today I became a mother for the first time. We named our daughter Amelia Beatrice. I liked the name Amelia, Chris liked Beatrice. When the midwife asked what we wanted to name our baby, Chris chimed in first. He said later that he used my choice because, as he put it, I had worked so hard to birth her. Still, Amelia is very much a "Bea". It's rare that we actually call her by her first name. Here are some more funny tidbits about Bea's early days.

We couldn't agree on a boy's name, so if Bea had been a boy (we didn't find out until she was born) she might have been Joshua, Jacob, Jesse, Jedediah, or Primo. I preferred the J names. If Ingrid had been a boy (we found out before she was born) I was really pushing for Jedediah again. I liked Josiah, too. I really like Clint Eastwood westerns, and old fashioned names.

Bea was born with a very distinct "WTF???" look on her face. The whole eviction from the womb apparently threw her for a loop. To this day, she still has trouble with sudden transitions.

She was 7 lbs 14 oz and 21 inches long. She was the exact same weight as I was. Her little sister was nearly a pound more. She had blue eyes until she was about 5 months old, then they turned gray, and then they turned green/hazel. She had a head full of black hair.

One of Bea's first words was "no". Others were "mama", "papa" and "bear". She was an early talker and walker.

She and our late dog Kaya the rottwieler got along famously. When Bea grows up she wants to be a vet.

For about two years (age 2-4) her favorite article of clothing was a pink shorts and tank top set with batiked shells on it. She called it her pink outfit, and she would wear it for days on end. She was way too big for it by the time I hid it in my drawers. Ingrid's worn it a couple of times, but she's not obsessed with it.

Bea nursed until she was almost 5. She hadn't nursed for about 3 months when I got pregnant with Ingrid. She called nursing "nip".

Bea's imaginary friend was named Annie and she lived in a castle.

Bea's favorite book as a baby was Big Little Lion.

Bea has an aversion to buttons, and hasn't worn anything with buttons (even just for decoration) since she was 3. She's not fond of snaps and zippers, either, and try as she might, she really doesn't like jeans. Her aversion was so strong at one point that if someone else was wearing buttons she wouldn't touch that person, and she wouldn't sit in a chair with a buttoned shirt or jacket hanging on the back. She once told me she was afraid of them.

Bea loves reading and math. She's an amazing artist.

Bea and I bicker because we are so much alike. I think she's much cooler than I am or ever was, though. Her persistence and tenacity will serve her well as she gets older. She has a dark sense of humor. She is a loyal friend with a sensitive soul.

Happy Birthday Blooter!

New Mama!

I'm organizing our stuff in the attic for a tag sale. I've been going through boxes and boxes of photos, children's clothes, baby stuff, books, toys, files, journals. My head is swimming in memories (and dust).

Today I am sorting things we no longer want or need, setting boxes aside that we still want or need, throwing away things no one would probably want or need. Making way for more stuff. It painsme to part with some of the baby stuff, but hopefully my sister in law will find a use for them because....

I'm an Aunt! Moya Ezekiela Sofia... was just born around 1 pm today.

Bad Friend Foods

When Ingrid was an infant she was allergic to dairy products. They gave her weepy, oozy, itchy, eczema patches all over her face, the back of her legs and her elbows. The best way to prevent them was to avoid all dairy. That meant I had to avoid all dairy. Goat, cow, sheep, water buffalo. No dairy. No cheese, yogurt, no fun for me, pirate dairy queen that I am.

She grew out of it, and now dairy doesn't bother her, and now I can eat it, too.

Actually, no I can't. I've been battling another health issue since Ingrid was born, too. It comes and goes, and when it comes, it does so with a vengeance. At times I've been miserable and uncomfortable. I've tried everything, except a change in diet, because I know it would require a radical chance in my eating habits for at least 6 months, and this radical change in diet will mean no more of favorites. No more comfort food.

I can't stand it any more. I'm back to being physically uncomfortable, and I don't want to go the pharmaceutical route again, because it's only a temporary fix. So starting tomorrow, I'm getting on the restricted diet train. In a word, I'm bummed. Here's what I won't be eating for the next six months:

Sugar in all forms, including honey, except occasional whole fresh fruit.
Fungus, molds, and yeast in all forms, including vitamins and minerals.
Most B vitamins (unless label states otherwise).
Most breads and commercial baked goods.
All alcoholic beverages. (At least I can still make wine!)
Mushrooms
Starchy vegetables like corn and potatoes.
Dry roasted nuts.
Barbecued potato chips.
Most commercial soups.
Apple cider and natural root beer.
White flour.
Bacon and other pork, which often contain molds.
Wheat, oats, rye and barley, (gluten).
Fruit and diluted fruit juices, high in fructose (fruit sugar)

Then there are the things I will have to limit:

Whole grains
Nuts and seeds (small amounts).
Beans and other legumes (small amounts).

I can have kombucha, meats, fish, poultry, vegetables. No bread or pasta.

Bummer.

UPDATE! Fermented foods and vinegar are back on the list! Hello Kim chee! (And no way was I going to give up kombucha!) Still no dairy or alcohol.

Vertamae

I picked up my bike on Wednesday. It's big and green. You know how some bikes are sleek and sexy? If they were human they'd be tall and svelte, they'd have deep voices and wear slinky clothes. Even my Giant hybrid has some sex appeal in this way, but she's more like Greta Garbo.

Not my new bike. Vertamae, as I've named her, is the kind of sexy where if she were human she'd look like Lena Horne with hairy armpits and cat eye glasses. She has a big wicker basket on the front, and fenders, and a bell. I rode her to town on Saturday and had a little accident where I broke the bracket that holds the derailleur to the bike. As luck would have it, this happened in front of the co-op, and a couple of friends whom I haven't seen in a really long time happened to run out the store and offer me a ride. They took me to the bike shop, I dropped Vertamae off, and picked her up today. It was actually a good thing. I got to spend time with my friends, who are moving to Costa Rica in August, and the damage was minimal.

Vertamae and I are going to have a good summer. There will be biking for the whole family. I'm going to ride to work as often as possible (except when I work in Amherst). Ingrid is big enough for our tandem bike attachement this year, and she still fits into the bike trailer. Bea looks so cool on her Electra Cruiser (if it were human it would look like, well, Bea). And Chris isn't taking any classes this summer so he'll have a chance to get on his road bike. His bike is sexy in that sexy husband way. So I guess if our bikes had babies they'd look like our kids as bikes.

I Am Made of Win!

I entered a raffle contest from my favorite local radio station last week. From the title of this post you can guess what happened. I won something! Something kinda big and wicked cool. Actually I won a couple of things: organic cotton bedding, a wool comforter, and best of all, a Raleigh hybrid comfort bike.

Two years ago I won 4 tickets to the Vermont Renaissance Festival from the same radio station. That time I had to guess the current event correlation between three songs. They all somehow related to George W. Bush taking the prime minister of Japan to Graceland. That was a natural for me. I'm from Memphis, I was an exchange student in Japan, and, um, when I lived in Memphis, George Herbert Walker Bush came to my high school and I got to ask him a question. Okay, so the latter was a stretch there.

Basically, I won 4 tickets (a $40 value) for keeping up with current events. This time around, I won some things (I'm guessing close to an $800 value) for knowing my name, phone number, having an email address, and knowing what town I live in. Quite simply, I am made of win.

The Sun Doesn't Set on Our Love

Another playtest of Tales of the Fisherman's Wife. This time we had 4 players, and it rocked. I'd eventually like to try it with 3 players, and I'm pretty confident that it would work. I tested new card mechanics and they worked much better. I'm still not confident about the final scene play, but it could be just insecurity. We created a great story and had fun, and that's most important to me for now.

I'm going to shelve my plans to make M'Alice an ashcan by August and focus on Fisherman's Wife.

He're a quick synopsis of our game. Emily was the Fisherman, Vincent the wife, I was the Fisherman's demons, and Meg was the Wife's demons.

Act I: The Fisherman leaves for his trip. His wife packs him rice balls with little surprises in each one. After drawing clubs, the Wife reports that she has mended 3 nets for him, and his boat is big. After drawing spades, the Fisherman tells is wife he will be gone 4 days and he has a premonition that he will lose something to the sea.

Their 6 words--The Fisherman to the Wife: "The sun doesn't set on our love."

To the Fisherman: "Turtles come alive under the moon."

Act II: The Wife encountered 3 different demons and she prevailed over all three. Sort of. The first one was a spider demon who wanted to serve her. I can't remember what she wanted from it. But at the end of the first scene, the Wife had a new little servant, who helped her around the house. The second demon wanted to seduce her, and she wanted to merge with it or steal its power, which she did. She turned it into a comb for her hair. The third demon wanted to devour her beauty. The Wife destroyed her, if I recall correctly and did away with her quickly.

Cut to Act III: The Fisherman met a demon who wanted to devour him, but the Fisherman would have no part of it. It was a creepy eel looking thing, the Fisherman prevailed. For the next three scenes, the Fisherman met the same demon, who alternated between wanting to seduce and devour the Fisherman. The Fisherman seduced the demon, and to keep from being eaten, successfully seduced her again.

So the Fisherman brought a seductive water demon home from his fishing trip. You might guess what he lost at sea.

Act IV: Meg played the industrious spider demon who now served the Wife, I played the seductive water demon, and we played in teams, demons vs. humans. The thing is, we both drew the seduction suit. So the question was, who would seduce whom. In the end, the humans won. Now that the wife had the power to breathe underwater, she could go swimming with the water demon.

They all lived happily ever after. Sort of. The Wife told the tale about how the sun did in fact set on their love, and related it back to the Fisherman's behavior with the water demon.

My memory is sketchy, and I've forgotten some details, but this game was terribly fun. Other players, please chime in!

(Cross posted at the Forge, typos and bad syntax and all.)

Clam produces an enchanted pearl of cinnabar

Last night Meg and I played Tales of the Fisherman's Wife. I have a few mechanical kinks to work out, and as I mentioned before the end is really clunky, but we had fun, and told a hilarious story complete with sex with giant fish and kelp men.

Act 1
The story begins with the Fisherman preparing for his journey. I was the Fisherman, Meg was the Wife. The Fisherman asks "How many nets have you mended and what is the condition of my boat?" Meg draws a Spade (can't remember the number) and says, "Four nets and I have made sure your boat is in tip top shape. And here's your lunch!"

The Wife asks how many days would the Fisherman be gone. I draw a Diamond card. "Two days, and because you have mended so many of my nets, I predict my baskets will overflow with fish."

They leave each other with the following 6 words. To the Wife: "Clam produces an enchanted pearl of cinnabar."

To the Fisherman: "Moon makes a silver necklace for a lady."

[Note: Articles, i.e. "that", "an", and "a" don't count in the 6 words.]

So off the Fisherman goes.

Act II
The Wife tends to their kelp drying business (they sell nori.) I'm playing the demon now. I draw a 10 of Clubs ("Devour"), Meg draws the 5 of Diamonds ("Enslave"). The demon approaches the Wife first as a giant piece of seaweed. They exchange witty barbs back and forth (ex, "I want to have you for dinner"), and when we get to the final card, the kelp demon transforms into a handsome man, and declares that he wants to "devour" the Wife, but not in a food way. I have the high card for Clubs. But Meg as the high card for Diamonds. The first round ends up in a tie. The kelp demon devours the Wife in a conjugal way, and is her slave for the night.

The next day (Scene 2) the kelp demon returns. This time he wants to Possess (Spades) the Wife. The Wife wants to "Steal a Power" (Clubs). Meg wins this round. She is immune to his charms, and at the last minute she steals a shell from his hair and gains the power to summon water creatures. Dejected, the kelp demon turns back into kelp and floats away.

Act III
(Scene 1) I now play the Fisherman, and Meg plays the demon. I draw a Heart (Seduce), and Meg draws a Diamond (Serve). Fisherman discovers a giant golden fish in his net. Immediately he is smitten. He places her in a giant tank and woos her, while she offers to serve him. I win this round, and the Fisherman seduces the fish demon. Yup, while she's still a fish.

(Scene 2)
The demon returns, this time to Possess (Spades). The Fisherman wants to Seduce (Hearts) her again. This time she changes into the form of a woman with glistening scales. Now the demon has 4 chances (4 Scenes) to succeed, since the Fisherman has 4 nets. And in the end, Meg and I both had the high card, but the Ace of Spades is the unbeatable card. When played by the demon it becomes "Supplant", and when played by a human it is "Destroy". So the Fisherman is supplanted. The fish demon controls him outside his body with strings like a marionette. They return home early.

Act IV
The Wife suspects something, and the fish demon knows her brother the kelp demon has been consorting with the Wife. The fish demon was going to try to Enslave the Wife, and the Wife was going to try to Destroy (Ace of Spades) the fish demon. The end game mechanics need some work, so we just fudged it. The Wife tries to save the Fisherman from the clutches of the fish demon by using her new power to summon water creatures. She calls on crabs to try to clip the strings that bind her husband to the fish demon. In the end, the fish demon strikes a bargain with the Wife. If she takes the Fisherman with her back to the sea, she'll call her brother back to become the Wife's lover. The Wife was happy with that, especially when reminded that kelp can grow up to 2 feet a day.

The Fisherman asks his Wife to tell him a story with the 6 words before they part forever. She tells the cautionary tale of how a clam fell in love with a bird, and out of love and from a piece of wood, the clam produced a beautiful pearl of cinnabar. The bird died, the clam died, and that's all the Wife had to say about inter-species love affairs.

The kelp demon returns, the fish demon gets her man, and they all live reasonably happily ever after.

There are a few mechanics I want to change, but as it is, it's playable and definitely fun. It's a short game, and playable with 3 and 4 players. The end game needs the most work. I'm going to take the rules down for a day or two while I make the first round of changes. Chris and I are going to play it tonight and see how it goes.

First Draft! Tales of the Fisherman's Wife

Wow! That was fast. I love it when I have an idea and it just flows to completion. I wrote the rules for Tales of the Fisherman's Wife last night, and even got it from notebook to computer. Print and play it and tell me what you think. The final act is a little loose and needs work, and there are parts where play might be a little clunky, so please give me some feedback. I got rid of the d4's and use cards only for the whole game. D4's are too pointy to play with in bed.

Some feedback questions:
Is play long enough or too long?
How do the cards aid in narration?
What really works? What did you love about it?
What's confusing? What totally doesn't work?
What needs work? What needs explaining?
What would you be sad about if I changed it?
Anything else you'd like to say.

The pdf isn't here any more. The game is almost finished. I'm putting together the books for GenCon. See you then!

Enjoy!

Reminder: Pirates are not funny

Two posts in one day may seem a little excessive, but since I have formally adopted "Pirate Queen" as my self-referential title, I couldn't help but share. Besides, I thought this would be interesting to those who know why someone once called me the Pirate Queen. Some of these folks probably know that I think highwaymen are "cooler", but that's irrelevant. I'm the Pirate Queen. (In rpg's) I didn't quite make it as the Highway Robber Queen, but I kicked ass as the Pirate Queen.

Still, I find the storybook, role playing game, and folk tale pirates quite entertaining, and do so delight in telling their tales, even if when they're horrible. The real life thing is an entirely different creature. One who is NOT funny.

We should be concerned that pirate attacks rose 10% in 2007. Yo ho ho...No thanks.

Even still, I have to ask: What would Abyssinia do?

Mission Statement Mission

In the past couple of years, I have committed a great deal of time and money to playing and designing role playing games. I'm getting to the point where the hobby pays for itself financially and I've received significant personal, social, and creative returns. So for now I'm getting what I put in. It can't hurt to ask occasionally, why make the investment, and to ask when the investment makes a positive impact on one's life.

There's an interesting conversation on Story Games on using cards (vs. dice) in role-playing games. It's prompted me to consider why I decided to write a role playing game, what keeps me interested in designing role playing games, and who is the audience I'm trying to reach with my games. So I'll ask my third question first.

I want to make games that would attract people who aren't Role Playing Gamers, in the traditional or "indie" sense. RPG's can be fun for people who hate TV, people who like board, card, or dice games, storytellers, folksingers. I would like for these people who don't come from an RPG background to bring what they like about story (or game) and play.

I think about how long it took me to actually play a role playing game, from the time I was first interested (elementary school), to when I first bought one (late 20's), to when I actually played one (a few years later). The things that kept me from jumping in when I was a kid were much different from the things that prevented me when I was an adult. As an adult, it was time, money, and stories to be told didn't grab me.

What I did like was the possibility to hang out with friends, not watch tv, and tell stories. I think those are attractive endeavors to more than just Role Players. So I want to make games that tell stories that perhaps you already know (like folk tales and myths), but you tell them at a different angle, with a different conclusion, different middle, or you bring in characters that don't have a great voice in the original telling, but could.

Also, the time thing. With two kids and full time job, my game time is quite limited. I won't rule out making a game that could go on for months or years, but I like the idea of shorter, single or multi-session games, so you get the satisfaction of a conclusion. This is a conversation I need to continue with myself.

Here's why I included the octopus picture: The Octopus Dating Game.

What are you looking at?

He who won't speak to me, but spends an astounding amount of time reading my blog? It's a little stalkish. I feel hainted.

Yeah, I've been looking at my visitor stats lately. I still don't get all the people who come here looking for "naked sauna" entries.

At this blog, I mostly talk about my kids, my hair, role playing games, both playing and designing (Steal Away Jordan, Murder Ballad Blackjack, M'Alice, and now Tales of the Fisherman's Wife), tattoos, Japan, food, creepy dolls, murder ballads, and autoharps. I haven't been in a sauna in months, although I really miss it.

The internet is not a reasonable facsimile of me. It's more like a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy. But if you must know some minutia of my life, Meg trimmed my hair the other day, so now it doesn't fall in the toilet and I don't sit on it any more. It looks much neater.

I strongly encourage people to leave non-spammy comments. If you stop by, sign the guest book!

Sincerely,
Parthenia, aka The Pirate Queen

Octopus Falls in Love with You

Utagawa Kunisada.
Floating Bridge of Dreams
(Yume no ukihashi), 1854.

I'm making a game for Chris for two people, inspired by my freaky tattoo thing (so you know what kind of game it will be), called Tales of the Fisherman's Wife: Roleplaying the Floating World.

Set sometime in a fantasy Japan. When the Fisherman leaves for sea, he gives his wife 6 words to weave a story while they are apart. The Wife creates a story from his 6 words (see title of this post for example), which she tells him when he returns.

He rolls the d4 to determine how long he will be gone. 1-4 days. The longer he's gone, the more they miss each other. The more they miss each other, the more graphic her story.

The Wife rolls the d4 to determine how many fish he caught. The more fish, the more leisure they will enjoy. The more leisure they enjoy, the more input the Fisherman gives.

But the Fisherman and his Wife have caught the attention of kami, oni, or otherworldly beings who try to seduce, possess (or supplant), devour, or serve them. While the Fisherman fishes, the "Wife" Player plays the part of the being attached to him, and the Fisherman player plays the being attached to the wife. Players take turns playing out what happens while the lovers are apart and vulnerable to the demons or spirits.

Players must successfully hold off the spirits until the couple is reunited. The Wife's story should incorporate the couple's escapades while they are away.

It uses dice and cards. A short game, no more than an hour. That's what I have so far, what I came up with at work last night. Now I'm going to sleep on it.

A Serendipitous Encounter

I love Atlanta!

In the airport, on my way back home, I bumped into my cousins Chi Chi and Antonio. They were flying back from Argentina, where they were visiting their son, who works there. A luggage mishap kept them from leaving the airport and going home to Auburn, AL. It also made it possible for us to cross paths in a city neither of us lives in, going in opposite directions, but both going home.

I'm in Atlanta!

This is short notice, but if you’re in the Atlanta area, I’m giving a presentation on Steal Away Jordan and game design at Spelman College Monday, March 24 at 6 pm in the Ennis Cosby Reading Room.

I’m going to talk about how I came to design a role playing game about slavery, about story games, the community, being an “only” in the community, and anything else that’s relevent. I’m also going to do a brief demo of Steal Away Jordan.

There's a possibility that I might run an evening game at the hotel or on campus. We'll see. Email me if you're interested.

Slave Narratives: Prince Among Slaves & The Story of Catcher Freeman

[From Stone Baby Games] I have a new category: Slave Narratives. I'm on a search for all kinds of slave narratives in all kinds of media. Fictional, autobiographical, mythical, books, film, spoken word, still life. I am particularly looking for slave narratives that break with convention.

Last month, as I watched Prince Among Slaves (the book on which it is based) on PBS, I realized that Steal Away Jordan has more in common with a televised dramatization of a slave narrative than a text, such as Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.

I push the notion that in SAJ you play a hero. Your character can be larger than life. Your story has a full orchestra soundtrack. Your character's costumes and makeup would win Oscars. Your characters may not get everything they want, and quite possibly may not survive, but they will go out in a blaze of glory. The audience will howl and weep and will cheer at the end.

Stories spoken out loud have that affect on me. It's one of those things that drew me to role playing games in the first place. I could not resist the chance to exchange stories. Reading a book is a personal story telling experience. Movies and role playing games are enjoyed best in groups.

Last night at work, I finally saw an episode of The Boondocks. Tonight I watched The Story of Catcher Freeman. It illustrates perfectly and hilariously the power of collaborative story telling. You have four people each giving their account of a legendary slave hero, in all his cinematic glory. Each story reflects the ideals and perceptions of the story teller, for better or worse. Best of all, it was painfully funny. You can see it here for now.