I was noodling around with the opening to a horror story and at about half a page in it had become another story about Three-Finger Finnegan.
His world doesn't really have "monsters under the bed" tales in it, so these paragraphs didn't work for the story I suddenly found myself telling.
These few paragraphs aren't half-bad so I decided to preserve them here.
* * *
Most days it's impossible to tell the world the truth. Some days you lie to yourself. There are a few days, a few precious, hopeful days when you can look your reflection in the mirror, right in the fucking eye and tell yourself the straight out, unvarnished truth. The trick then, is knowing when those days are upon you and knowing when to hide from mirrors.
I'm won't to bore you with the mundane. It's enough for our purposes to tell you that I know two truths about myself. I know them right down in my bones, in that place where you keep all the things you hope you'll never let yourself know. I'm a liar and a coward.
What man will say these things about himself? What man can keep these two truths about himself right there in the front of his mind without skulking away from the world to hide in darkness away from decent, loving, normal people? Not me. I want to hide away every second of every day. Turn my face, cast my eyes down, and pray no one notices. But I can't.
You want to know why?
'Cause I'm afraid of what's in the dark even more.
I was pretty excited to attend my fourth BlizzCon event. It's not so much that it's Blizzard games - though those are certainly exciting and fun - but the whole panoply of social events and personal connections that surround the event that make the experience so wonderful. BlizzCon is one of the few chances I have to see and hang out with a worldwide network of friends and a chance to spend time in the City of Angels where so many of my formative years were spent. And now, a week after the event, when I've mostly recovered I'm going to relate my BlizzCon 2013 experience. Buckle up, the ride might get bumpy!
BlizzCon was November 8th and 9th, 2013. I departed from my home in lovely northern California the previous Wednesday so I could visit with friends and enjoy early social gatherings before the event itself.
It's a long drive, usually 7.5 hours; I knew I was going to hit rush hour in multiple places, so I got an early start. I'd packed my luggage, some special packages for friends, laptop, and tablet into the car the night before so off I went. I was on the freeway by 8am. I hit a friend's house just before 10am to deliver one of the packages - three bottles of wine from my employer's winery - and set off again for Los Angeles.
Interstate 5 is the faster route, and I ate up miles, making good time - so good in fact that I thought I might be too early for my friend Brian to be home from work - but LA rush hour cured that problem. I spent 45 minutes going less that 4 miles, but spent most of that time right behind a little jeep with a horde emblem on its rear cover. Lok'tar, friend.
Wednesday night was spent eating delicious Indian food with my friends Brian and Michelle Hauer (@BrianHauer and @MichelleCHauer on Twitter) and talking late into the night. It was fantastic to catch up with them, play with their cats, and then follow up with a nice breakfast on Thursday morning. Then it was time to rush off to Anaheim.
I made it to Anaheim, checked into my hotel and met up with a few people from the #wowuidev channel on freenode.net. Met some new faces, met some faces I had talked to in IRC often but had never met, and then had to rush to Irvine to get a special tour of the Blizzard campus. I got to see the WoW development team's work area, the common areas, and more, but most of it I can't really talk about. Though I do have a nice shot of me with the orc wolf-rider to share with you.
Then rush back to Anaheim to go get my passes to the event. This involved standing in line for about two hours to get into Hall E of the Convention Center. I'm ill-suited to standing on my feet that long, so I was really, really glad to finally get out of the line. Sadly, that meant I had to miss the Zam party, and had to rush over to PF Chang's to attend the UI Dev Dinner hosted by WowInterface.com and Curse.com. Conversation, drinks, new faces, old faces, and a great time. We wrapped up at nearly 11pm! Thanks to the ever-patient wait staff at PF Chang's!
Then drinks in the Marriott bar with the UI crowd until 1am when I finally stumbled off to bed at my hotel a few blocks away. I was pretty beat by this time, so I slept like a rock until it was time for the doors to open!
Opening Ceremonies
I am not, as a general rule, a morning person so I managed to miss breakfast at the hotel and stumble over to the Convention Center just as it was opening up. I hit up a food truck (a new addition this time around) and got delicious burger to start my day.
The opening ceremonies included speeches by Blizzard founders and leaders of various efforts but I was mostly wanting to hear the big news - what games could I expect to see from Blizzard in 2014? You've been patient with me, so I'll quit dragging it out, here they are.
Hearthstone: Heroes of Warcraft
A fast paced, fun, free-to-play digital card game based on the Warcraft franchise. The game has been previously announced at PAX, but they announced that the game would go from closed beta to open beta in December - possibly January. Initial release looks to be on Windows and Mac OS, and should be rapidly followed by iOS (for iPad and iPhone) and Android (again, phones and tablets) Soon<tm>. I've played it because I'm in the beta, and I like it. I can easily see it being a great way to fill waiting time anywhere, and playing it against friends and matchmade opponents often. Games are fast, and last at the most 15 minutes so it's perfect for casual game play. You can find tons of people streaming ganes of Hearthstone on Twitch.tv and lots of videos on YouTube.
Diablo III: Reaper of Souls
I liked Diablo III a lot, especially considering that I never played any of the earlier Diablo games. It's good, monster-cutting, barrel-smashing, dungeon grinding fun with beautiful graphics and I more than got my money's worth when I bought my collector's edition. And I expect I'll play the heck out of the expansion too. I played the teaser missions on the demo stations, trying out the new Crusader character type. And it feels very much like Diablo III - thematic elements are perfectly in tune with what has been played before. I don't think you can go wrong with this game. If you're like me, you'll play it like crazy for a few weeks, then return to it when you need some mindless monster smashing fun.
World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor
Oh World of Warcraft - Just when I think I'm about done, you pull me back in. Fight against the Orc Warlords of Draenor? Base my Draenei shaman out of Karabor? Upgraded character models? Build my own garrison and stock it with NPC followers? Oh yes. Oh yes indeed.
And as a nice bonus, if you buy the expansion pack, boost a character to level 90 right away and dive in! Perfect for those returning players or someone who's guild has asked them to switch to a new role.
Heroes of the Storm
Of all the games announced, this should be the one I care least about, but it's not. As I sit here typing this, I'm wearing my Heroes of the Storm t-shirt and I've watched the cinematic at least three times in a row. This is a PVP game, and I normally hate PVP fighting games, but I am very, very, very excited about this one.
Here's why:
1. Play the panoply of Blizzard universes heroes and villains. <strong>BE</strong> Diablo, Kerrigan, the Lich King, Thrall, Garrosh, Tyrael, and more. I will teach you the meaning of fear as the Lich King. Bring it.
2. Limited time commitment. Here's a game where you can play the entire game in 15-20 minutes. Login, with or without a cohort of friends and rock the game on Battle.net. Perfect for lunchtime or evening games to wind down. It makes me think back to 2000 - 2003 when friends and I would fire up Quake for a little lunchtime smack-talk and fragging.
3. It's beautiful. No, seriously. BEAUTIFUL.
The line to play this game at BlizzCon was never under an hour long at any point after the demo stations opened, and I'm not a patient man, so we stood and watched people play. All the effects and the UI for the game were sleek, sexy and reminded me of SCII and Warcraft II.
Friday night was spent in Los Angeles, visiting my friend Eric Heisserer and his lovely wife Christine Boylan, truly some of the most humble and wonderful people I've ever had the pleasure to know. Dinner at a lovely place called Duplex on Third followed by an evening of conversation and drinking of many glasses of wine. It was my first chance to meet Christine, and I was charmed instantly. This visit made the trip especially great.
E-Sports
My friend Eric doesn't have much time for games lately. He's busier than the single rooster in a giant hen house. But he loves e-sports, especially for games he doesn't/hasn't played. Day 2 of BlizzCon was his day, so I let him pick all the events and he chose the WCS Starcraft II finals. Man, I'm glad he did.
First, let me specify that while I was in the beta for SCII, I got in late and my time was compressed due to moving. By the time things settled down enough to give me time to play the beta was almost over. I probably cleared the tutorial and a single match, so really, I have never seriously played SCII. But let me tell you... I was on the edge of my seat for every nail-biting moment of the finals.
This happens to me every time I sit to watch professional gamers do their thing. I go in thinking 'I don't want to watch people play a videogame, I want to play video games.' And when the dust settles and someone is kissing a trophy, I think 'This is how football fans must feel.'
Journey's End
Driving up I-5 from Los Angeles to San Francisco isn't taking the scenic route. If you want a beautiful, albeit slightly slower drive, you take 101, but I was interested more in saving an hour. So I was really surprised to pull into a rest stop about halfway through the drive to see a McLaren F1 in a glossy black paint scheme pull in behind me. It was a thing of beauty lads, let me tell you. I highly recommend picking one up if you have the means. It's so choice.
You'll have to settle for pictures from their website though, 'cause I was so awestruck I forgot to take a picture of the actual car.
Here's last week's sadly overdue posting. I decided to break from fiction and post something from correspondence instead. This is a letter I wrote to my mother for Mother's Day this year.
Dear Mom;
One day each year we're supposed to celebrate one of the most amazing things ever, mothers.
Everyone has one, so they're common but somehow each one is extraordinary. They carry us around inside their bodies for about nine months, then in their arms for years and in their hearts forever.
A mother watches over you when you sleep, feeds you when you wake, and guides your hungry mind with answers to incessant questions, like "Why?".
Sometimes, we're angry or frustrated because our mothers treat us like children, but the fact is we are children until we're not, and mothers will know when that is long before we will.
Mothers are never perfect; they have flaws, go tilting at windmills, chasing phantoms and delusions just like any of the rest of us. But they have the most powerful incentive to return to reality, their children.
The fact that any of those children anywhere ever makes it to adulthood is a powerful testament to the power of her love to overcome mountains of poop, overturned cereal bowls, embarrassing public utterances, panicked moments in shopping centers where the child has wandered off to play with toys, adolescent rebellion, and every other torture intentional or not.
For all those little miracles, we've set aside this day.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom. You've more than earned it.
Love,
Your Son
Here it is, my second installment of my promise. I'm working my way through writing a million words and I will post them here each week.
This is a little different. I wanted to capture the style of spoken story-telling and a little western flair.
For a Drink of Whiskey
I should tell this story from the real beginning, but the truth is I wasn't there, so I'll have to start with where I walked in and carry on as best I can to the end. I know, I know, but you want to hear it, you got to listen to me tell it first, ain't ya?
See, I'd discovered that morning that we were short on coffee and flour, and there was a powerful need for a new blanket for the bunk-house, so I'd decided to ride into town and get some supplies. Naturally it had been a while since I'd been to town an' along the way my whistle decided it wanted wettin' which meant a stop at the saloon. After I'd ridden in, I hitched ol' Burt – that's my horse, see. He don't like to be called Horse, so we settled on Burt, and then he got old... and where was I? Oh right, I hitched ol' Burt to the rail, slipped him a carrot and went inside for a nickel’s worth of whiskey and that's where I come in.
Now you always hear in fancy stories how a hush sets in over a saloon when a man steps in with every head turnin' to the door. Well, there was a hush alrighty, but weren't one head lookin' at me, no sir. They's all a-staring at the two fellers over at the poker table, standin' there with guns drawn. I knew them fellers too. Stinky Pete – we called him that on account he used to work with hogs back East and to hear him tell it, weren't no stink greater on this here Earth than a hog farm – and Clive, a feller from up Montana way what owned the livery stable; liked his whiskey, whores and cards.
Pipe down, now! I'm getting' to it. Got no patience, I tell you what.
Now I don't know what set them off, the whiskey, someone cheatin' at cards or if one of them boys was sweet on the saloon-gal, and I don't think I'll ever rightly know. I didn't see the draw and weren't neither of them boys what you might call gunslingers, but them pistols was out and they were ready to bark. Boy howdee did them pistols roar! Stinky Pete now he had him a Colt, and he was a-rippin' bullets out as fast as he could fan the hammer whilst Clive was busy getting low to the sawdust and trying to fire his trusty Smith and Wesson.
There was smoke, and power-flash. Cards from the table was flyin' up in the air, chips hitting the floor and some saloon gal was a hollerin' fit to wake the dead. No, sonny, I don't know her name. Ain't never seed her before or since. Well, that's just too bad, ain't it? You gonna let me finish this or what?
So there's Stinky blazing away and doin' somethin' terrible to the wall what was behind where Clive was standin', Clive rollin' 'round on the floor pulling the trigger on his pistol as fast as he can. Someone – my money says Clive – hit the big ol' mirror behind the bar making it shatter all over everything in the room, and Mikey – the barkeep, see – he drops the mug of beer he's carryin' so fast I think the mug hit the ground a week before the beer, so's he can take cover behind the bar. Fellers at the bar are clutching their hats and trying to hide down behind the spittoon, and there's me – just a-standin' in that doorway.
Right about the time my head starts to thinkin' maybe I ought to do something my shoulder starts to squawkin' and lightin' off Fourth o' July rockets 'cause I'm hit and that just makes me mad. I slap leather, and come up with a fist full of iron and I start doin' my level best to add a bunch more bullets to the mess already whizzin' round that saloon. Hand me that sifter, now. Good lad.
Well, weren't none of us hittin' much – 'cept maybe my shoulder now – but we're sure having a grand ol' time tryin' when up comes Mickey from behind the bar with his scatter-gun an' he pumps a load of shot into the ceiling. Never woulda happened if he'd been aimin' that cannon, but sure as I am standin' here now, he hits the rope holding up the ol' wagon wheel they use as a chandelier and down it comes! That big slab o' wood, iron and burning candles comes slammin' down, whacks Stinky on the arms before settin' him on his keister. Then it sort of rolls over, drops a load of burning candles on Clive who commences to a hollerin' and cryin' about bein' on fire 'cause all the whiskey he'd been drinkin' made him light up like a torch.
As if there weren't enough misery for one day, Clive drops his pistol and it discharges the last round, and that big ol' chunk o' lead must've had my name on it 'cause – POW! – it hits me. And that, sonny, is why they call me Three-Finger-Finnegan. Oh, and one more thing... never did get that whiskey.
Now trundle on off and ring the bell to call them cow-pokes in for beans and bacon.
I wrote the original draft of this in 2000, revised it again in 2001, and again in 2002 and 2004. I've revised it once more in 2011 for this blog project. It was started out to be a small character piece used as a mood-setter for a character in an role-playing game. There was a kernel of something interesting in it. I want it to be better than I think it is now.
Whispering Winds
Dust settles from the cool sea breezes to cover the window sill in a fine layer of sandy grit. A solitary candle gutters fitfully. Papers on your desk rustle. Look out towards the sea, smiling ruefully. Step outside, floating, suspended on a cushion comprised of will and gentle puffs of air.
Turn, face the window. Feel the sadness and hate. Savor the neglect and suffering. Curl these emotions, these weaknesses into a tight knot and pack them into a corner of your soul. Pull back now, gliding away from the small window, carried by your will through the air. Go further still and see the height of the house's wall stretching up above your field of view then down to the street below. Drift down.
Someone moves, shading the light from the window. A silhouette of your father. Reach out. Twist your mind in that unique way. Exert your will, feel the mind of the man framed by the window twist to your desire.
Hear him scream. Feel the solid thump of his impact. Smell the copper-tinged scent of fresh blood. See the wreckage of his once human form. Feel the slight tug of a smile at your lips.
Look up again to the window. There stands your mother horror and revulsion on her features. Exert yourself once more in that special corner of your mind and watch the earlier scene replay, sensually enacted.
This is your power. You can do this to anyone. All that is required is the little twist of your will and their minds respond, even dying for you.
Smile softly. The sight of the cooling bodies soothes the tight knot of hate. Lines of tension in your shoulders relax as the whispering winds carry away the sounds and scents of the night.
Walk away.
They didn't love you, your parents. Now you can make people love or die for you. And you will.
