Category: Uncategorized


Over the weekend we brought our long-running Trail of Cthulhu campaign to an end after a year or so of play. (It was the excellent Eternal Lies, in case you’d like to check it out—which I can highly recommend.)

Trail cover

In a Cthulhu game (of any system), there’s a temptation to tally the score and measure its success according to the number of player characters killed or driven irrevocably insane. By that count, the game was an abysmal failure: Through a year of play, only one death (voluntary, in a world-saving moment), one insanity, and a couple of significant maimings. Despite that, though, this wasn’t just one of the best RPG campaigns I’ve played through—it was, perhaps, the campaign most true to the mindbending horrors of the Cthulhu mythos that I’ve ever experienced.

How can that be? Particularly when you consider that the GM, it turns out, had made a conscious decision not to kill characters? Isn’t it a widely-held maxim of tabletop gaming that without the real fear of character death, players don’t have enough incentive to care—to worry about the consequences of their actions—to fear? And, heck, the mythos all about fear.

I’ve never believed that the fear of death is critical to the RPG experience. When we watch a movie or read a novel, the main character’s survival is rarely in question. What creates tension is the question of how the character will survive a given life-or-death struggle. Of what the consequences will be. And whether the character will overcome whatever grand conflict the plot has put before her.

It’s no different at the gaming table. Our characters might have died—even though the GM wasn’t gunning for us, the possibility certainly existed, and we dodged a couple of serious bullets along the way. But the truth is we were not motivated primarily by keeping our characters alive, particularly once we were out of the first act. We were motivated by a dire, existential threat to humanity, and the knowledge that we were pretty much the only ones who could defeat it. We were motivated by the need to succeed. And that was always in question.

(The fact that the one casualty gave her life, voluntarily, to assure the success of the mission further proves my point.)

So only one death. But along the way three characters lost limbs. One of those ultimately went insane, but not until after the close of the campaign’s events. A couple of us fell into the grip of addiction and alcoholism.  This was a party that survived, but as seriously damaged goods. And that felt more true to the Cthulhu mythos than a dozen deaths.

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

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The Strangest Week of All

If you follow this blog, you’re probably at least vaguely aware that I’m involved with a Kickstarter campaign for a forthcoming tabletop roleplaying game called The Strange.

Concepts2

You may also know, if you’re into tabletop games at all, that Monte Cook and Bruce Cordell are two of the most imaginative and admired designers of RPGs in the business. And perhaps you are aware that they’re the creators of this game. (You might even know that the two are childhood friends who reached the heights of their careers without ever working on a major project like this together.)

And you might know that Monte Cook Games, the company I helm and which is producing The Strange, recently released the critically acclaimed Numenera roleplaying game. Numenera was also funded via a Kickstarter campaign, which, a year ago, blew away all previous crowdfunding records for an RPG.

But here’s something you might not know: While several other RPGs have crowdfunded at levels approaching Numenera’s (and a few have even beaten that record), not one of them—not a single one—was a new property. Every other major RPG Kickstarter has been for an established brand that had a built-in audience eager for new product. Cthulhu. World of Darkness. Exalted. Shadowrun. All venerable names with decades of brand-building behind them. Until now.

Recursions-Ardeyn

Every Kickstarter is different, and we’re four days away from closing this campaign. The last days often see a huge spike, but I’m not willing to prognosticate. One thing is already clear, though: We’ve done it again. Even if we don’t raise another penny, The Strange will still stand next to Numenera, head-and-shoulders above any other new crowdfunded RPG.

If you haven’t checked it out, you really should. In addition to being the masterwork of two of the greatest RPG designers of all time, it’s a hell of a deal: It’s one of those Kickstarters where the stretch goals have snowballed, growing a great set of rewards into an incredible deal. And we’re hitting new ones every day.

If there’s one comment we’ve heard over and over again about Numenera, it’s “I missed the Kickstarter campaign, and I really regret it.” Don’t let that happen to you!

And don’t dawdle: The campaign ends Friday!

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

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A few months back, for my birthday, I received an iCade, a bluetooth controller/stand for the iPad that makes if feasible to play 80s arcade games. There are a lot of these games available for iOS–ports of the actual, original games, not modern remakes–but they are very hard to effectively control via the touchscreen. Anyway, last week I replaced my decrepit, severely challenged first-generation iPad with a new iPad air, so I was finally able to take these games out for a real spin.

Rowan tries his hand at the iCade.

Rowan tries his hand at the iCade.

So one of my favorite games from that golden era of the arcade was Xevious–and that’s the first I sunk my teeth into over the weekend. I have awesome memories of that game, which had astounding graphics, incredible gameplay, and an amazing atmosphere. Or maybe my rearward-looking glasses are heavily rose-tinted?

Nope. That game still rocks. Here’s why.

The graphics may be chunky, but they’re still something to write home about. The designers managed some incredible effects–shimmering, morphing metallic forms out of black, white, and four shades of gray. And amazing glows out of red, black, and an intermediary brown. They used these, along with an interesting array of motions, in really imaginative ways, to create a set of evocative opponents that would make any 21st-century game designer proud.

Check out that gun turret, in particular. Black, white, and four shades of gray. Throw in some motion and some glow effect in the dark areas, and then cast your mind back to 1982. Genius!

In the same way that Numenera’s sweeping vistas are a key to unlocking that game’s profoundly imaginative setting, the importance of Xevious’s graphics can’t be understated. But there are a lot of nuances to gameplay that make this game stand out among others of its era–and hold lessons for designers today.

For example, many (most?) games have respawn points–if you make it past a given point in the game and then die, you start again at that given point. But in Xevious, if you make it more than 70% of the way to that respawn point and then die, you start at the respawn point–you actually jump ahead in the game. This bit of brilliance means that you may still be discovering game content, even at the early stages of the game, many plays into it.

While many games of that era had different opponent types, Xevious had a lot and was somewhat random in the mix of bad guys it threw at you (at least the aerial ones–the ground targets are fixed). They seem to have different rarities, too, so you could play many, many times and still run into things you hadn’t seen before. Or had only seen once or twice, and so had an incomplete understanding of what it could do. The game was (and still is, now that I’m playing again!) constantly giving you something new.

Xevious was the first top-down scroller that played against a meaningful background (as opposed to a starfield or whatever that had no effect on gameplay). In an effort (I imagine) to deal with memory limitations, the background is one giant square of terrain–you scroll all the way up it, and the start again from the bottom, but offset just a bit. (This is seamless within the game.) Each pass overlaps the others, so you get new terrain but with recognizable elements from previous passes. The designers turned this into an advantage, by designing terrain elements larger than the screen width. This gives an incredible sense that the game is larger than the playspace. Flying over a partial Nazca bird figure instills the game setting–which in other games of the era was entirely without context–with real sweep and mystery.

Technology changes (especially in the world of electronic games). Game design itself evolves. But Xevious, now 30 years old, reminds us that truly good game design does not go obsolete.

Now excuse me–I have a game to play!

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

  • Receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right)
  • Follow me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, where I post lots of game, writing, and geek news and can often be dragged into conversation
  • Follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan, where I post frequent short bits on the writing process and state of my current projects
  • Encircle me (is that right?) on Google+, where, like most people, I have no idea what I’m doing

So the cat was officially released from the bag yesterday: I am now an employee of Monte Cook Games. I’ve taken up the reins as COO, which basically means I’ll be running all the operational, marketing, and business side of the, erm, business.

There are many reasons I’m super, super excited about this. Monte and I go way back, for one, and we’ve been good friends for many years. (There’s a story out there involving the two of us and a crocodile, but for better or worse it’s been swallowed by the intarwebz, never to be seen again–so I’ll just vaguebook about it here.) And then there’s returning to the games industry, my first love (industrially speaking). And of course it’s just nice to rejoin the ranks of the employed. But the main reason I’m excited is this:

Numenera

To be clear, while I loves me some RPGs, there is no specific game so awesome, in and of itself, that it would draw me to the company that makes it. Numenera is awesome, but what makes me so excited to be working with it is how it’s been received.

Perhaps you are not into roleplaying games. Or perhaps you are, but you live under a rock. In those cases, you may be excused for not knowing what I’m talking about–so let me explain. Monte launched a Kickstarter funding campaign for Numenera last year, looking to raise $20,000 to publish the core book. The campaign raised a bit more than that, and by “a bit” I mean “a lot.” “A whole lot.” Enough to demonstrate in no uncertain terms how huge Monte’s following is and how enthusiastic gamers are for his ideas. And when inXile announced a computer game license for Torment: Tides of Numenera, their own Kickstarter topped $4 million in funding and proved that Monte’s was no fluke.

Third edition wasn’t an accident. Planescape and Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil were not aberrations. WotC was not wrong when they courted Monte to lead D&D Next. It turns out people really like Monte’s work–and that he can deliver, over and over again.

When I posted about the end of my last job, I mentioned that I’d love to return to the games industry–but only to a job that promised a level of stability most game publishers can’t promise. Nobody can see the future, but here’s one thing I can predict: Numenera’s going to do great. And so will Monte’s next project. And the one after that.

This is a company that’s going places, and I’m really, really happy to be on board!

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

  • Receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right)
  • Follow me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, where I post lots of game, writing, and geek news and can often be dragged into conversation
  • Follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan, where I post frequent short bits on the writing process and state of my current projects
  • Encircle me (is that right?) on Google+, where, like most people, I have no idea what I’m doing

On to a New Chapter

I have not been a very good blogger for the past year or so. Nor a good writer in recent months. Not even as good a gamer as I would like to be. The reason? My work at RiverKey Creative has been pretty all-consuming. I was brought on as a senior manager 18 months ago to assist in the turnaround of this terrific, but ailing, company.

Have a look at just one of our many really neat projects:

Despite the cool nature of our work, RiverKey was in bad shape when it came into our hands. We used every means at our disposal to restore it to health. Unfortunately, our best efforts were insufficient, and, over the past couple of weeks, the patient succumbed its wounds. Although some assets and employees may find new homes, possibly in some coherent form, RiverKey as it has existed is no longer. It’s dead, Jim.

Which means I’m looking toward a different future. Game design and writing remain my first great loves, and if there happen to be opportunities in those fields that would provide the stability my family requires, I’ll jump at them. More likely, though, I’m looking for a more conventional home for my talents.

I am an accomplished creator and, even moreso, a manager of creatives and the creative process. I have a particular penchant for bringing order and efficiency to creative processes and teams, and my experience ranges the gamut from written material through still and motion visuals, interactive, and game design. If my strengths interest you, you can find all the gory details over at my LinkedIn profile.

So I’m looking to hire a new employer. The qualities of a successful candidate might include:

  • A love of creativity and a belief in its power to change the world. That’s an environment where my leadership skills and extensive experience can help a creative team soar.
  • A culture (or the need to instill a culture) of process. I excel at organization; at detail; at bringing efficiency and order to highly dynamic workplaces—and at bringing the rest of the organization along with me.
  • A brand beloved by its adherents, or that that will grow to become beloved as is makes its way into the public eye. I cut my teeth on highly-evangelized, identity brands. I understand their communities, and the relationships they have with their constituents.
  • An environment that asks the most of its employees and appreciates what they bring to the table. I wear a number of hats with ease, and my experience across a range of disciplines can be a real asset to a company that makes the most of it.

If you have any leads along those lines, I would be very appreciative if you could steer me toward them. You can reach me directly at 276-794-2667. Feel free also to drop me a line ([my first name]@[this site's domain name]) or hit me up on Twitter. A full resume is, of course, available on request.

I think my family and I would lean toward remaining in the Kansas City area, but we’re open to opportunities elsewhere.

So that’s it. I’ve lost jobs before, and ultimately every time the change, while harrowing, led to bigger and better things. My experience at RiverKey was terrific, and I can’t wait to see what it now launches me into!

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

  • Receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right)
  • Follow me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, where I post lots of game, writing, and geek news and can often be dragged into conversation
  • Follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan, where I post frequent short bits on the writing process and state of my current projects
  • Encircle me (is that right?) on Google+, where, like most people, I have no idea what I’m doing

My boy dutifully kicked off May the 4th with a viewing of Star Wars. I lie: He popped Star Wars into the DVD player because that’s what he does on a Saturday morning. He had no awareness of today’s geeky significance.

But in honor of May the 4th, here’s a small, insignificant fascination I have with the original Star Wars.

I remember 1977. Here’s what I remember: 8-track tape players. Really big cars with carburetors under the hood. Pocket calculators that were just beginning to fulfill the promise of actually fitting in your pocket.

Considered awesome because you never had to rewind it!

Considered awesome because you never had to rewind it!

There were no cell phones. No computers in people’s homes—and certainly not in their pockets. No internet—people wouldn’t start commonly using the web for nearly two decades. Heck: Microwaves and VCRs were just hitting the market. The Atari game console was still several years away.

Star Wars had droids and computers. Nothing special about that; both had been in the public consciousness (and movies) for decades. But when did we become aware of networks and their potential? I don’t recall being at all aware of such things—but when R2 shuts down a garbage disposal from a network interface half a small moon away, the audience went right along with it. In 1977.

I guess maybe this concept was already out there. Or maybe it made such intuitive sense that people bought it without thinking. I don’t remember it being a “wow” moment.

But then, it was Star Wars. It was the summer of ’77, and there had never been an experience like it. Maybe it was just lost in the blinding glare of a hundred “wow” moments.

Am I right to find this bit of trivia fascinating? Or am I misremembering—were we already all like, “Yeah, duh, it’s a computer network. Happens all the time.”?

Writers live and die by the feedback they get from their readers, so I’d love your comments—there’s a little link just down below to the right. Also:

  • Receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right)
  • Follow me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, where I post lots of game, writing, and geek news and can often be dragged into conversation
  • Follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan, where I post frequent short bits on the writing process and state of my current projects
  • Encircle me (is that right?) on Google+, where, like most people, I have no idea what I’m doing

The Thing

I’m not going to tell you that The Thing, the prequel to the 1982 John Carpenter classic coming out in about a month, is going to be great. It ought to be great, but that’s hardly an indicator in this day and age. I will tell you this, though: It’s gonna get $8 of my money. I’ve been excited about this movie since the first teasers (but then, I was also pretty psyched about Tron Legacy).

If you’re anything like me, you don’t need any convincing at this point. But I’ll show you this anyway:

From the original movie: The strange body MacReady finds burned and frozen outside the ruined Norwegian base. Sometimes referred to as "old splitface."

From the red-band trailer for the prequel: This guy is alive and in motion in the trailer. I think there's a flamethrower and a freeze in his immediate future.

Ironically, all indications are that the plot of this prequel is a direct mirror of the original. We certainly know how it ends! But one of the things I found compelling about the original was the implication that MacReady and crew’s story was just one iteration in a thousand horror stories that came before it—at the Norwegian base, on the alien saucer, and who knows how many times before? The fact that I know the story and the ending doesn’t dampen my enthusiasm one bit.

Seriously, with a nod like that one (not just the presence of ol’ splitface, but the fact that they teased him in the trailer), how can you not want to see this movie?

Comment below; you know you wanna! And receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right). Converse with me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, or follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan.

I had a very busy summer. I built this:

They say if you build a better Gen Con stand, the world will beat a path to your door. No, actually, they don't say that. But Cubicle 7's stand at Gen Con was pretty darn busy.

Perhaps you might wonder to which “this” I refer. I refer to the stand you see there: Cubicle 7‘s booth at Gen Con. It’s hard to see exactly what you’re looking at there, so here’s another picture, taken (from a different position) while we were setting it up.

Apologies for the really terrible picture quality. Cell phone camera. You know how it goes.

Cubicle 7, publisher of the extremely awesome The One Ring (the new Lord of the Rings RPG), Airship Pirates (take note, Abney Park fans), Doctor Who, and about 630 other RPG game lines, is one of my marketing clients. They’ve made a huge leap in status over the past year, vaulting from the indie field to become one of the biggest publishers of RPGs. And they had not one but two major launches for Gen Con—and that meant they needed, for the first time, a real, grown-up looking Gen Con stand. They had 400 square feet to work with (in an unfortunately odd shape), and, well, nothing else.

And being located in Oxford, England, with approximately 5,000 miles, an entire ocean, and half a continent between them and Indianapolis, they weren’t in much of a position to put a stand together themselves. Tough to make a 400-square-foot space look nice with the contents of your suitcase.

No problem, I told them. I’ll arrange it. (Potential clients take note: I am a full-service marketer.) When I said they had nothing else to work with, I lied: They gave me a budget, an amount of money that wouldn’t seem unreasonable to the average person—unless that person had ever had anything to do with arranging stands at major events. Got a thousand bucks? That’ll rent you a table and a potted plant for four days. I exaggerate, but to give you a real example, having internet access at our booth would have cost nearly $1000. For four days. I quickly determined that the reasonable budget available to me wasn’t going to cut the mustard.

Stability testing an early prototype.

The obvious, sensible, simple alternative was to build the stand myself. With my own hands, and my own extensive building experience (I wrote that last part with a straight face). In my own garage. (And in, as it turned out, a massive East-coast heat wave.) All I needed to do was design a 400-square-foot stand that could display roughly 200 RPG products, provide visual impact to support two major launches, fit in an odd-shaped space, and look highly polished and professional. Oh, and I had to be able to transport it in my car and set it up in one day with just a small assortment of hand tools.

A slightly more finished prototype, incorporating some improvements gleaned from the first one.

I was able to anticipate roughly 1 million things that could go wrong with this plan, and throughout July my restless sleep was haunted with visions of Cubicle 7 toughing out Gen Con with nothing more than a stack full of boxes. My nightmares did not include a flood in my garage, soaking 32 triangular braces I’d meticulously built over the preceding week. Or running out of gas outside Pittsburgh and having to abandon my car on the narrow side of a busy highway while I went running up mountains in the 95-degree heat looking for petrol. Or IKEA having only 9 of the 42 shelves I needed, despite their web site promising they had hundreds. Actually, my nightmares did include that last one.

The design reaches its final state. Lessons: Slatwall weighs approximately 400 pounds per square foot. Cutting it generates insane volumes of fine, powdery sawdust that covers everything in your garage, with no regard for whether it belongs to you or your not-so-keen-on-sawdust wife. And bevel cuts create edges similar in sharpness to a moderately honed surgical scalpel.

Despite those issues, and a razor-fine margin for error in the timing of getting it all together, it all was pretty much gotten together. Come the opening bell at Gen Con, we had a stand. It looked pretty good. It displayed the product nicely. Nothing collapsed; no animals (or gamers) were harmed. My nightmares were for naught.

The kids give the final product a sense of scale. The whole shebang involved eight of these towers, which provided structural support for wall-sized graphic panels and were also faced with shelves. Each tower was made of two of the prism-shaped elements in the previous photo, stacked. Each prism broke down into two slat wall panels, two triangular braces, and a cross-brace, all of which basically flat-packed. I should get a job with IKEA!

So that’s how I spent my July. I’ve spent most of August recovering.

Another look at the final product, with Dom and Francesco being interviewed about The One Ring. Almost looks like I knew what I was doing!

Were you there? Did you stop by the stand? What do you think—did I pull it off, or should I keep the day job?

Oh, wait. This is my day job. . . .

Comment below; you know you wanna! And receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right). Converse with me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, or follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan.

A few months ago, I posted a bit about the web comic Oglaf. If you are a gamer and you like funny things, and you are not a prude, you should read it. But not if you are a prude. Or at work. Or in the presence of the underaged. Or even close to any of those things.

Well, a funny thing has happened since then: story. Throughout Oglaf’s run there have been any number of recurring characters and mini-plots, but these have seemed to be only loosely related and widely interspersed with standalone vignettes. Since, oh, early December, though, the bulk of Oglaf episodes have been focused on a single, major storyline.

I won’t try to put together a synopsis; if you’re interested it more or less starts in the episode entitled Tribute Day 2, to which I have conveniently just given you a link. From that point forward, the story is pretty self-contained—there are plenty of references to earlier strips, but none that you’ll need to recognize or that seem to have any direct bearing on this plotline. With one exception: The cumsprite (you’ll know it when you see it) is introduced in the very first Oglaf strip, and makes more sense if you follow the mini-plot through the episodes 100 Tiny Eyes, Glove, Rapunzel, and Emancipation. (In each case you’ll want to hit the “next page” button until you’ve read the entire episode. Oh, and if there’s an “epilogue” button at the end, hit that, too!)

If you’re new to Oglaf, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do. But the links I’ve provided here give you a nice tour through the series, with a good look at how Trudy Cooper’s style has evolved over the course of it. I talk a bit more about the virtues of that style, and point out a few of my favorite episodes, in my earlier post on Oglaf.

Given that the cumsprite goes back so far in the story, and that a number of secondary characters in this plotline have shown up in the past, it will be very interesting to see if other elements from early in the strip come into play in this story—or, indeed, if Oglaf is turning out to have more of a story to it than it has previously seemed (this move toward plot could be an aberration in the long run). Either way, I’m going to keep looking forward to Trudy Cooper’s excellent work every Monday morning!

* Percentage of story not actually verified.

Comment below; you know you wanna! And receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right). Converse with me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, or follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan.

Facebook and web sites and Twitter, oh my. The intarwebs feature a lot of channels of information these days, and it seems that in recent years the web has been sort of polarizing around a few of them. I tend to overwhelmingly use four of these channels, and in so doing have come to see the strengths and weaknesses in them. I mention this not to promote my new internet marketing seminar (I’m not, because I just made that up), but because I spatter this web site with links to my Facebook page and Twitter feed, and you might want to know why they’re relevant. And also because I’ve just started working as the internet voice for my very good friends at Super Genius Games, for which I’ll be using largely the same tools.

So let’s start with me. Cause, you know, it’s me.

  • This web site is a great place for me to tell you stuff. I own the space, and can go into as much detail as I like. I love your comments—seriously, I await them breathlessly every day—but conversations on a web site tend to be short and not too immediate. Mostly, I talk to you.
  • On the other hand, Twitter is a conversation tool. It’s the place for people to talk to each other live and in (virtual) person. If you talk to me here, or on Facebook, or a message board, I might answer in an hour or a day. But if we’re talking on Twitter it’s a live chat. Twitter is fine for shooting out announcements, but they’re mostly just directing you to other places (like this). So mostly, on Twitter, I talk with you. (In fact, in the time I’ve written the above few paragraphs, I’ve chatted with three or four friends on Twitter.) Did I mention you can reach me at @charlesmryan?
  • Facebook is kind of like the web, but, having its roots in a social network, even business-oriented pages need to have a more casual, less corporate feel to them. And the nature of Facebook posts make them shorter and more immediate than a web site. I use my Facebook page as a sort of writer’s journal: Whereas I post on this site a few times a week (when things are ticking along), choosing Topics of Grave Import, I usually post about the writing process on my Facebook page just about every time I write. Posts tend to be brief, spontaneous, and a bit more personal than the web site—but more in-depth than Twitter. And you can find them on Facebook at Charles M Ryan (no dot after the M).
  • The honorable mention goes to message boards, the internet grandaddy of all this social media stuff. Message boards are a great place for in-depth discussion and back-and-forth. I love me some message boards, and I’m active on a lot of them. But they’re someone else’s turf, so their relevance to any given user can ebb and flow. My ENworld handle is CharlesRyan; you can also find me on the WotC Community and I still drop in on UK Roleplayers.

So there you have it: It all makes sense now. These communication channels aren’t bewildering and redundant after all—they all have their own, wonderful strengths and uses!

That’s how I use these things for my own purposes, and probably how we’ll be using them at Super Genius as well. (You can hit us on Twitter at @SuperGeniusRPG. We’re also on Facebook and the web at the obvious addresses.) I find that a clear understanding of each channels helps me get the most out of them, both as a general-purpose user and a guy with a message to get out. Are you active across all of these channels, or do you keep a limit on it—and if so, why?

Comment below; you know you wanna! And receive an email notification of every update to this site by subscribing (see the link to the right). Converse with me on Twitter at @charlesmryan, or follow my writing diary on Facebook at Charles M Ryan.

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