I'm putting a message in a bottle

I'm sitting here staring at a mostly blank page, wondering how it is I came to be here.

I'm not someone who has ever been enamoured with social media, or having a large online footprint, or building a brand/following. Yet despite my imposter syndrome acting as my own personal Grima Wormtongue, something has stirred me to action - the overpowering stench of digital waste choking the life from the internet.

I'm starting this as an act of almost certainly futile posterity, in the hope that these little bottles wash up on the shores for people to find and (Tymora willing), use. Where once the challenge of having your words reach their intended audience was all the other identical bottles floating about, the problem is now that there is so much AI generated shit bobbing limply in the Internet's waters that all the sensible people are staying away from the filth.

And most of those who remain are pigs quite happy to roll around in it.

To that end, this blog exists to provide unique insights I've gathered over 17 years of running TTRPG's, and how it forms a diad with my views on game design - one uplifting and informing the other.

Creating a Creative

A brief history of me

I can pinpoint the moment I fell in love with the concept of the TTRPG as a vessel for self expression.

I was at my local Games Workshop as a certified 10 year old weirdo, when one of the staff invited me to play in a version of Space Hulk that was being run that day. Having only Ork miniatures, they allowed my character to be an Ork, and while I don't remember much of the game, I remember how it ended. I asked if my ork could throw their underwear to attack (I will not be accepting questions at this time, thank you), the store attendant smiled and said "Sure, and since they are an ork's underpants, I'd say they count as a Power Weapon".

That moment of "Here is an idea I have" validated by another human being saying "Your idea is so cool, I'm going to build on it", is what its all about. If this bottle ever finds its way to that employee at the now closed Games Workshop at the Pagewood Westfield, thank you for building such a powerful memory within me.

Over the next few years I would invent all sorts of games for my friends to play that were little more than Three GM-Fiats in a Trenchcoat. Come high-school, I would get a chance to play my first real TTRPG in what must be the most hellish confluence of circumstance imaginable; DnD, 3.5e, in 45 minute segments during lunch on Tuesdays.

Not long after this, I started playing in a game hosted by a teacher from my friends high-school, and this would be my first foray into tabletop games in the standard once a week, 3-4 hour session format. I played a Warlock whom I cosplayed during our sessions. I still have photos of myself in costume that I pray will never break containment.

Soon after I bought my own copies of the core 3.5e books and read them all cover-to-cover in the unique, hyper-focused way only a child with unmedicated ADHD is capable of. After a few weeks I was confident enough to run for my friends during our LAN's where we would play quite literally all day and into the night. If only I still had that stamina.

Things basically continued in this fashion for the next few years. Sure I would branch out to other systems, but I always came back to DnD, not because of any unique excellence of the system, but because contained in its pages were my fondest memories with friends. Though when I think back on them I have to focus to avoid collapsing into a cringe-induced singularity, I have to give myself credit. Anything that could compete with our love of Warcraft III must have been doing something right.

Jumping forward a few years to 2020, I'd been blessed enough to find a niche for my skills that allowed me to earn a few extra dollars on the side while working full-time as a chef, but in 2024 I made a big leap and quit my day-job to pursue it full time. Since then I've made connections with amazing players and creatives from various different fields, managed and designed elaborate campaigns and stories that span multiple tables across multiple venues, been hired to run at conventions, provided TTRPG's as a service to the disabled, and almost co-authored a book (a story for some other time).

When I type it out like that, my story lands somewhere firmly between farcical and mundane, a series of anecdotes that at best provokes the response "Oh... cool". How is it then that I derive so much meaning from interactions that anyone else would likely call meaningless? I'm not going to try answer that question today, but suffice it to say that to me, that's the juice, that's what separates TTRPG's from other forms of entertainment - making magic from the mundane, and building memories and experiences that are uniquely yours.

Don't believe me? Have you ever tried to explain to someone what happened during your groups last session, only to realise half way through that the eyes of the person you're talking to have glazed over, clearly unable to understand the borderline fever dream you're describing? Same thing. That's your version of Power-Weapon-Underpants.

Welcome to the club.