07-20-2017, 05:07 AM
Grim!
Your singular achievement -- Suspense & Decision and this site -- has echoed across time and space in ways you can't possibly know. Your crabby enthusiasm and furious determination drove a herd of moribund cats across the prairie for the first time in a millennium. For the first time in ages, it was possible to know that a PBM space still *exists*. We could reprise some of the finest memories of our youth by tearing into a new issue of The Magazine That Demanded To Be Read the very instant it came into our grubby paws. I felt that way when I first subscribed to The Dragon, back in the late 70s. And in The Dragon I came across an article on Tribes of Crane, along with a host of cryptic ads for some mysterious and unfathomable games. The same eager anticipation accompanied each turn in every PBM game I then joined -- and in each turn I personally processed in my own single attempt at being a moderator.
I went on to compose a few issues of a tiny zine for my personal gaming buddies -- Super Stud. The greatest of our gaming glory days were already behind us, but I wanted to do something to help maintain our little crowd as we all moved on into jobs, apartments, wives, and children. I still have a handful of old Super Studs in my archive. My tiny little subscriber base and the fact that we drifted out of regular gaming anyway does nothing to diminish the warm glow I get whenever I take a peek at them -- a sense of pride in creation, warm memories of friendships and high amusement, and the community of people who knew me and liked what I liked.
Seeing S&D enter publication was something like finding out that your favorite band from your college days had just come out with a new album, that the album did not suck, and that in fact the songs, the album, and the band still rocked. Hard.
Under the morbid glare of mostly-solo computer gaming, I hadn't really written anything game-related after college until S&D. Your efforts inspired me to contribute. There have been others erecting blogs or small fan-sites for what ghosts of PBM still remained. But most were flat and quickly aborted. What you did was *execute*. You made a plan, you drove yourself to get it done, and you created something big and meaningful for our curious hobby. Indeed, S&D has already taken its rightful place next to the other giants of PBM periodicals, like Flagship, Nuts & Bolts, and Gaming Universal. Every issue is a collector's rare lucky find.
It's been taking me a while, but I have been putting together my own zine project (having first previewed the idea here on this forum some time ago). I've been focused on the higher conceptual context and operational framework, but have recently started drafting "actual content" for the inaugural issue of PROG. It will mirror S&D's online PDF format -- a print magazine for a digital age -- because I see the benefits of giving things the pulse of regular deadlines. You showed us that. Having a loose, unmoderated forum can help a community, but it doesn't do much in terms of good quality content. Having a publishing event means that all the content within has gone through a number of gatekeepers, putting it all well above most forum posts or blog entries.
And a magazine format provides a common watering hole where the entire community can gather and mingle. The articles are red meat for the fans, to be sure, but for readers there is value not just in reading the articles, but in knowing what everyone else is reading.
I've had my writing-moments. I've also had dry spells and periods where I was either too busy or too drained by other responsibilities to muster up the energy to push anything new out. I can do better, and indeed the older I get the more I feel like I MUST get back into the thick of it. When we *create* something -- a magazine, a game, a band, or a cub scout campfire skit -- that's when our human spirit really truly lights up. These PBM games are small in the big picture of our lives, and our passion for them can well and truly be called silly. But the enthusiasm we share for them and the buzz we get from playing, reading, and writing -- these are all valid, important, and not at all trivial.
So thank you, Charles, for your magnificent magazine, for the memories it has created, and for the future it has inspired. Really, thanks.
Your singular achievement -- Suspense & Decision and this site -- has echoed across time and space in ways you can't possibly know. Your crabby enthusiasm and furious determination drove a herd of moribund cats across the prairie for the first time in a millennium. For the first time in ages, it was possible to know that a PBM space still *exists*. We could reprise some of the finest memories of our youth by tearing into a new issue of The Magazine That Demanded To Be Read the very instant it came into our grubby paws. I felt that way when I first subscribed to The Dragon, back in the late 70s. And in The Dragon I came across an article on Tribes of Crane, along with a host of cryptic ads for some mysterious and unfathomable games. The same eager anticipation accompanied each turn in every PBM game I then joined -- and in each turn I personally processed in my own single attempt at being a moderator.
I went on to compose a few issues of a tiny zine for my personal gaming buddies -- Super Stud. The greatest of our gaming glory days were already behind us, but I wanted to do something to help maintain our little crowd as we all moved on into jobs, apartments, wives, and children. I still have a handful of old Super Studs in my archive. My tiny little subscriber base and the fact that we drifted out of regular gaming anyway does nothing to diminish the warm glow I get whenever I take a peek at them -- a sense of pride in creation, warm memories of friendships and high amusement, and the community of people who knew me and liked what I liked.
Seeing S&D enter publication was something like finding out that your favorite band from your college days had just come out with a new album, that the album did not suck, and that in fact the songs, the album, and the band still rocked. Hard.
Under the morbid glare of mostly-solo computer gaming, I hadn't really written anything game-related after college until S&D. Your efforts inspired me to contribute. There have been others erecting blogs or small fan-sites for what ghosts of PBM still remained. But most were flat and quickly aborted. What you did was *execute*. You made a plan, you drove yourself to get it done, and you created something big and meaningful for our curious hobby. Indeed, S&D has already taken its rightful place next to the other giants of PBM periodicals, like Flagship, Nuts & Bolts, and Gaming Universal. Every issue is a collector's rare lucky find.
It's been taking me a while, but I have been putting together my own zine project (having first previewed the idea here on this forum some time ago). I've been focused on the higher conceptual context and operational framework, but have recently started drafting "actual content" for the inaugural issue of PROG. It will mirror S&D's online PDF format -- a print magazine for a digital age -- because I see the benefits of giving things the pulse of regular deadlines. You showed us that. Having a loose, unmoderated forum can help a community, but it doesn't do much in terms of good quality content. Having a publishing event means that all the content within has gone through a number of gatekeepers, putting it all well above most forum posts or blog entries.
And a magazine format provides a common watering hole where the entire community can gather and mingle. The articles are red meat for the fans, to be sure, but for readers there is value not just in reading the articles, but in knowing what everyone else is reading.
I've had my writing-moments. I've also had dry spells and periods where I was either too busy or too drained by other responsibilities to muster up the energy to push anything new out. I can do better, and indeed the older I get the more I feel like I MUST get back into the thick of it. When we *create* something -- a magazine, a game, a band, or a cub scout campfire skit -- that's when our human spirit really truly lights up. These PBM games are small in the big picture of our lives, and our passion for them can well and truly be called silly. But the enthusiasm we share for them and the buzz we get from playing, reading, and writing -- these are all valid, important, and not at all trivial.
So thank you, Charles, for your magnificent magazine, for the memories it has created, and for the future it has inspired. Really, thanks.