So Wytche (archer in the MMO I play) just face-raped Jekel: another archer who has much nicer gear. I don’t know him personally, but I believe him to be a nice guy. Nevertheless, I relish being the underdog. It’s awesome to fight against superior powers and win. That’s what makes for great stories. Sometimes, however, the underdog doesn’t win.
… your life becomes hectic. Days blend into each other and your time is either spent working or sleeping and recuperating. This is my life right now, albeit for good reasons. Everyone who buys a copy of Skyrim will see a color flyer in the box for “Dishonored” which is our game. We’re all very proud of it and are excited about the process of development.
I have it from reliable sources that the cover art for “Black Bottle” is in progress. Initial concept art shows high promise and makes me giddy. Hint: it might show a vista of the City State of Sandren.
Just a quick post to announce the, ahem, announcement of the game I’m working on at the “day job”. You can check the splendor out at these two links:
The summer’s obsession for a lot of people was the so-called trial of the century, which did not revolve around a terrorist or deposed tyrant or anyone else who had impacted the world on a large scale, but around an arguably-pretty middle class white american. These are the shallow obsessions of many of us and you will notice that I too was sucked in.
Fast, dirty blogging this morning.
If you’re me, which you’re not, you get an email from your editor round about April 22 saying that they are “very very happy” with the book and that here are the last few markups: *yay*. You then proceed to check off those markups and finish the assigned work in about three days. No problem. What happens next is that you know deep down that this is your last chance to modify…so you decide to do ONE MORE read-through.
And then I’ll tell you another. It is not easy to see the seventeen year old get a nose piercing for her birthday to add to her “above the upper lip and to the left” piercing, and the belly button, and the gauged ears and…well, who knows if there’s more. It strikes me how the instinct is to assume, as my parents did, that this recently evolved human (from the larval stage) does not *perhaps* have its head screwed on straight.
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