It's been a solid three months since I last weighed in on my Girl by Moonlight experiences. The game continues every other Sunday evening. I haven't quit, I've kept enjoying it, and (apparently) my players continue to enjoy it as well.

That said, I think there was a part of me that believed I'd hit a point at which I'd "understand" GMing and then we'd just roll from there. Which of course is foolish — that's not true of anything anywhere. In retrospect, I think it's because I witness a degree of confidence and creativity from the GMs I admire (in my own life and onscreen) that I just figure they've hit that point.

Then again, I'm sure there are people who are convinced I am a confident and self-assured writer just because I have books in print. And boy do we all know that's not true.

The big thing I've noticed is that I never go to bed (because these games end at 10 or 11pm for me, so I go straight to bed) thinking, Damn, I nailed that one. Well done me. There's always something: I paused too long here to come up with something when a player went in an unexpected direction. I didn't define a point well enough, or make it enticing enough, to send players after it, and instead we went on a long rabbit trail to get to what I thought was a straight-line result. I fumbled here or here during combat. I forgot the rules here; I fudged the rules there.

It's like when I used to act. It's like when I write now and hit "Send" on the draft. There's always, always something I could have done better. Which is kind of a crappy feeling when your brain is running counter to what your players are saying. But it's also a bit reassuring: it's another way that GMing is like the style of writing I'm accustomed to. And the truer that is, the less alien it feels.

In fairness, it's not all double-edged swords. I like to think I am picking up tricks along the way. Friends have been helping me tackle aspects of the game mechanics that are rough for me — things like how to guide combat and know when a combat is "done" in a system bereft of NPC hit points and initiative. But I've also had to tackle things that are more "quality of life" for the player... things they want that are both narrative and mechanical in nature.

For example, this particular playbook of Girl by Moonlight, "On a Sea of Stars," has giant robots. As with fellow player characters, you can have Links with your robot (or Engine). Links let you shake off stress, get an extra die, and other such abilities. I will occasionally have the players do feet-on-the-ground missions, either because it fits the story better or as a bit of a challenge. Technically, this means that they don't have access to Links with their Engine. But they have expressed wanting them.

I didn't like saying a flat-out "no," because everyone in this game is doing amazing things with their characters and it doesn't feel like a desire to optimize solely for the sake of optimization, so the task became figuring out a way to make it both narratively and mechanically feasible. How can I create long-distance links between pilots and their mecha while still making it clear that they're more vulnerable out of their robots? To that end, I'm homebrewing items that require gathering materials and finishing projects. When complete, these items (I'm still deciding what they are) will enable use of at least one link per combat, with an increasing risk of the item "burning out" after each use in a single session. (I took inspiration for this risk from the Arcanist's Lens, an item from the Griffon's Saddlebag.)

It's also worth mentioning that getting to the point of making them required some actual "talking" with the Engines: getting to know the personalities inside these machines. (I can't say much more because I'm pretty sure all my players read my blog.) With these moments under the characters' belts, it felt much more likely that this long-distance bond could exist — and, moreover, that it was something the players would actually play narratively, rather than just using to boost a dice roll.

Just the other night, I had to make my first ruling between two conflicting player decisions. Fortunately, it wasn't a dire matter. One player was about to make an Eclipse roll ("Eclipse" being a mechanic where the character's darker, more vulnerable side is explored), and it was very very clear that this player wanted to go there. However, before making an Eclipse roll, another character can prevent it by taking on stress themselves. Player 1 was pushing for the Eclipse to happen during the Fallout phase, as cumulative stress is wiped at the end of each session and it might be a while before this opportunity would come again. Player 2 is playing a character who not only hinges on communication and understanding due to their playbook of choice, but also has a Promise (an interpersonal mechanic) dedicated to helping this specific character.

Letting Player 2 intervene would have meant not letting Player 1 have a specific moment that, by design, could (and probably would) come again. Not letting Player 2 intervene would have meant artificially closing off an aspect of the game's mechanics and denying Player 2 the ability to act according to their character's nature — which is an even bigger deal in a game where experience is primarily gained by doing exactly that. In the moment, I chose to let Player 2 intervene. Player 1 and I talked about it later to ensure everything was okay, and I revealed Player 2's Promise over the table to explain why I chose the way I did. Even when I knew I was making the best choice as the GM, I didn't enjoy not letting a player do something they were gunning for. (I'm a very narrative-driven player myself, so I get it.) However, the player ultimately agreed with me that it was the best choice, especially after re-reading what Eclipse looks like for this playbook and realizing that they were actually acting opposite to it. While there's still a very real desire to explore the Eclipse mechanic, we both agreed that it should be both narratively and mechanically next time, and not just a build-up of stress points on the sheet.

For what it's worth, I'm fortunate that the first conflict between two player choices was between two long-time friends over something that ultimately had a pretty clear ruling by the book. I've seen, and been part of, much less clear-cut conflicts. I'd like to think I'll handle them well when they arise, but I'll still count myself fortunate that I got to come in on the ground floor with mitigating this sort of thing.

There's now a longer gap between this session and the next one as one player goes on vacation, meaning I get more time to plan. Do I feel confident as a GM now? No. I don't think I ever will. Do I enjoy the process? Absolutely, and a lot of that is down to building a group of players that I know will both work with me and occasionally test me. I still struggle with split-second decisions, and I still hate knowing those long pauses exist while I'm cooking something up to account for an unplanned side road. But even if I do go to bed at night feeling uncertain, the amazing things the players are doing make it worth it.

 

Cross detective fiction with historical figures, add burlesque sensibilities, and you get Minky Woodcock: a comic book series by Cynthia von Buhler. Now in her third collected volume, the sleuth will take on eldritch cults, international spies, and one of literature's simultaneously most revered and reviled horror authors.

Fresh off cases involving Harry Houdini and Nikola Tesla, Minky is now in correspondence with HP Lovecraft himself, concerning a book that he and the late Houdini were planning to collaborate on. But cracking this case open leads to a run-in with Aleister Crowley himself. The notorious magician wants Minky to help clear him of a murder accusation, but there's much more at stake than she realizes. In a story that spans six years, Minky Woodcock encounters a cult, discovers the early works of Ian Fleming, and becomes embroiled in a a mystery that could decide the course of World War II.

While the surrealist art won't be everyone's cup of tea, many readers will find it very fun to look at. von Buhler also employs a number of models for reference, bringing a unique look to her art. The story itself, though, is what's fascinating, and threads of what came before are worked through this new story to ensure everyone is at least somewhat caught up to Minky's misadventures. In the final pages of the collected volume, von Buhler goes into detail about which bits of the story were based on truth and how certain events actually went. She also addresses readers who might be less than thrilled by the presence of Lovecraft as a major character in the work.

The physical release itself is a gorgeous full-color hardcover, packed with bonus material including pages of cover art from the various issues within. That is, of course, one of the best things about Titan Comics: their physical editions are truly worth owning.

Titan also offers the first two volumes: The Girl Who Handcuffed Houdini and The Girl Who Electrified Tesla. You don't have to start at the beginning — but after seeing Minky Woodcock fight off mad magicians and international spies, you will almost certainly want more.

Minky Woodcock: The Girl Called Cthulhu is now available from Titan Comics.

 

I don't have as much time as I'd like for video games — especially in the summer, when I'm balancing busy multiple busy seasons at multiple jobs. But when something unique comes along, I like to take a break and try it, rather than relying on one of my YouTube faves to play it in the background while I work.

Such is Bladesong, which is not related to my favorite Wizard subclass but is a very cool game where you smith and decorate swords. At the time of this writing, the game is available for playtesting, with a test build showing off both its Story and its Creative modes. As a story-based gamer, I tried out the former (I may give the latter a go later). And while there were elements that were a bit crunchy for someone like me with terrible spatial awareness, the story woven through the gameplay loop was extremely promising.

You play a blacksmith living in an impoverished settlement on the outskirts of a grand city. You've just escaped death and are currently working your way up to a life within the walls of said city; this will involve gaining a reputation and a work permit, and also not having your throat slit in the night by thieves. By day you can explore the camp, make friends (or not), buy wares, and discover more about the world around you. Once that's done, you fill orders for fellow camp residents. And once that's done, you try to make it through the night.

The character selection screen is very basic. You pick a gender, a background, a single possession, and an outlook on life. The second and third of those will affect your stats, with each Background buffing one stat by +3 and unlocking unique dialogue options, and the third optimizing your game depending on how you choose to play. (These bonuses are explained under each choice, giving you plenty of freedom to customize to your liking.) The first choice simply defines how you're addressed, and the fourth... well, I'm not sure yet, other than the fact that it enables an old lady who saved your life to dunk on you one last time before turning you over to the waking world.

Making swords is at the core of this game, and your forge looks pretty rad. At the start of each day, you have a certain amount of action points. Every potential customer requires a certain amount of points to work with, and each will yield experience, coin, and other bonuses. If you're getting tired, there's always at least one quick and dirty repair job you can do for a single action point.

I especially like that there's story embedded in most of these commissions. Sometimes you'll meet a father in need of a simple blade to protect his daughter; often, you'll meet camp dwellers tired of being put upon and desirous of showing everyone else who's boss. You don't have to take every order; and, indeed, I found myself only accepting orders of certain types after a point. Generally anyone who was against the camp's cutthroat thieves was an automatic yes... along with a lady who kept showing up and claiming she could hear beasts skittering in the night. Listen, the city has a magic barrier around it, and it's clearly to keep something out.

The smithing portion is pretty satisfying, and I imagine it's even more fun in Creative mode. I mostly enjoyed filling orders in Story mode, though. This meant making swords to certain specifications: heavy two-handers with leather-wrapped hilts, well-balanced blades, or (on occasion) just something sharp to get the job done. I did run across a work order or two that felt counterintuitive — swords that, based on the game's hints, needed to have both more and less mass at the point. A little more tutorial time spent working on these seemingly conflicting orders would have been helpful... perhaps a "difficult customer" to satisfy before being let out onto the world map. But if you can't seem to get an order filled, you can leave it. You'll sacrifice those action points, but you won't be softlocked.

There was only so much exploring that could be done in the playtest, but what was there was fun. There was an encounter with a thief, which could be solved in a number of ways: arming him, leaving him waiting, or just killing him (if you're strong enough). As I mentioned, I spent a lot of time arming fellow camp members who were also victims of the thief; had the story continued, I wonder if this would have made a difference.

Your choices have at least some effect on your ability to navigate the camp, as you can befriend and help others down on their luck. Also, there is a dog, and yes you can pet it, you can pet the dog, I'm so happy, these devs know what we need in a game.

As for the broader story, there's promise. The playtest ends right after a frankly horrifying reveal, and even the few areas you can explore before entering the city offer enticing details. There's absolutely a world here for those who want to find out more. And I definitely want to find out more.

Bladesong definitely caters to those with better spatial awareness in terms of the actual forging portion of the game, and I can see lots of people getting caught up in the creative aspect. You gain new methods, new tools, and new ornamentations as you go, meaning you can make increasingly elaborate blades. (Which admittedly sounds awesome.) But if you are more story-forward, never fear: this playtest hints at a vast, dark world waiting to be unlocked.

Bladesong is now available to wishlist on Steam.

 

It is, to say the least, a hot-button topic. And it's one that, as someone who works in a variety of fields affected by the arrival of generative AI, I have to write out my stance on clearly and accessibly. Because, as time goes on, it is going to be more and more essential to draw that line.

So first off, I should be clear about what this blog post isn't. It is not an attempt to change your mind, to make you understand that generative AI as currently utilized and marketed is bad for our brains, bad for the environment, bad for business, and bad for human creativity. If you were unaware of any of these points, the hypertext in the previous sentence will help you learn, and I encourage you to check those links out. But if these are all things you are aware of and you still champion large language models as "progress" (or even as "harmless" or "not great but"), then one middle-aged nerd in the U.S. is not going to change your mind.

If there's one thing this blog post is covering, it's my bases. Because I am a writer. I have books coming out, I review books, and I write for magazines and news websites. Every field I work in is being invaded by large language models, and people are being less and less open about their use thereof, or more and more slipshod with their admissions of use of it.

To that end, I want to be very clear about my stance, if I haven't been already. While I acknowledge the concept of artificial intelligence as useful in research and data processing and figuring out whether Freddy Fazbear is going to jumpscare you, I will never knowingly associate with a project that makes use of generative AI.

"But," say some of you, "you're going to be closing off a lot of creative venues." I sure am. And honestly, I'm probably going to have to step back from several things in the coming months and years. And I'll be sad to do so. But I am more committed to ensuring that I am never involved in the abuse of someone else's copyrighted creative work than I am in maximizing my income streams.

So, breaking it down:

I will never knowingly work with a publisher that allows the use of generative AI in their written work, in their covers, or in their press.

I will never knowingly attend a convention that employs the use of generative AI in its advertising.

I will never knowingly review or promote a book or project that uses generative AI.

I will never knowingly be a part of a project that uses generative AI, and if I discover too late that the project has employed generative AI without my knowledge, I will speak to the people in charge and discern whether they plan to continue using it. If they do, I will part ways with that project, and I will be open about why if asked.

Note that I put "knowingly" in every case. This is because I have ended up seeing generative AI integrated into projects after my portion was done, and without my knowledge. These happened at a time when I wasn't aware just how pervasive this would be, to the point that I would need to establish a stance and write it into any future agreements. Lesson learned. Going forward, this is going to be something I check regularly.

If you discover that a project I am currently active in is currently and actively employing generative AI, please don't hesitate to let me know. Because odds are I don't know about it and I'll want to be told.

With all that said, I'm very happy to say that two publishers I work with regularly - Obverse Books and 18thWall - are both of the same mind. Obverse makes a note of their commitment to human creativity in every book they publish now, and MH Norris of 18thWall spoke out about NaNoWriMo's misguided stance on generative AI and accessibility. I am proud to work with them and honored that they count me among their regular contributors.

I will continue to vet the projects I review, support, and in which I participate. There will be misses along the way, but it's more important to me to stand firm on this. Once this post goes live, I will link it prominently so it's always accessible.

To those of you who continue to value human creativity, thank you. You're keeping something really beautiful alive.

 

Thanks to the awesome people at Titan Manga for making me a part of this book tour! Be sure to check out the entire roster as we finish out the month, and get your own copy now!

I got to review volume 1 of Chang Sheng's gorgeous, genre-busting YAN for the Otaku USA website back in May. I was completely unfamiliar with Sheng's work, knowing only that I really like Titan's manga releases and that they tend to find titles that even avid fans might miss or overlook.

Reader, I was not prepared. I was so unprepared that, when I was offered a spot on the book tour for YAN Vol. 1, I accepted it, just to have a chance to say more.

First off, the obvious: the art. Every single page, every single panel of YAN is a treat. So often I see series that cannot walk the line between realism and expressiveness, with the need to achieve visual perfection making facial expressions look either strange or nonexistent. Until a month ago, I would have pointed out Kiyoto Shitara's amazing two-page spreads for Bug Ego as the only exception to the rule I'd personally seen and enjoyed.

YAN, though... good lord. For every character to stay on model, to stay expressive, and for the protagonist to spend a lot of time in ornate Peking Opera headwear and makeup? It's unbelievable.

The comic, for those of you who are unaware and who didn't read my OUSA review, is about Yan Tien-Hua, sent to prison for what was believed to be her role in a brutal massacre at her opera company. She was also believed to have died in prison—but here she is, decades later, looking no different than she did when she was put away. And she's out for revenge.

That story along would be more than enough; there are already multiple mysteries to unravel here. But even within the first volume, we're not done. There's also Higa Mirai, a Japanese go prodigy who appears to be able to see the future. How do their lives tie together? What really happened 30 years ago? Why is Yan the same as she was back then? This first volume lays out enticing mysteries, coupled with gorgeous visuals.

And then there's the book itself. I've mentioned I love Titan Manga, and Titan Comics in general. Besides the titles they pick up, I also love the print volumes they put together, complete with tons of bonus material in the back. This first volume of YAN is weighty—about double the size of your typical tankobon. The vibrant cover is the perfect gateway for the story inside.

I read a lot of manga and manhwa and webtoons and light novels for work, and these days it's rare for me to stick with something long-term unless an anime adaptation is on the horizon or it hits just right. YAN hits just right. I've truly never seen anything like it, and I want more.

YAN Volume 1 is now available from Titan Manga.

 No matter what anyone tells you, you don't need generative AI to help you build a game setting. All you need is some human collaboration—or, failing that, a creative jump-start from James D'Amato.

I've reviewed so many RPG tools from D'Amato here on my blog, from storytelling games to book that help you build a fully fleshed-out character. His latest contribution to the GM's toolkit is The Ultimate RPG Worldbuilding Deck: a set of cards that can be used alone or collaboratively to add details to your campaign or setting.

At the moment, as many of you know, I'm running a Girl by Moonlight campaign. As my players are about to go somewhere new and meet several new people, I figured this was a perfect opportunity to put the latest deck to work. For the purposes of the single session coming up, I pulled two cards from each of the five categories: People, Places, History, Rumors, and Institutions. Since I had a fairly solid idea of where these new elements would fit into the story, I allowed myself to switch out cards if something simply did not fit.

Each card gives you a heading that dictates what this person, place, or thing is. A Thief. A Sad-Sack. A Burial Site. An Accord. And so on. Underneath that, on the top half of the card, is a set of fill-in-the-blank or multiple choice questions. You don't have to create anything whole-cloth for the questions at the top. If you're stuck, you can flip a coin or roll a die to fill in answers.

Once that first half of the card is done, the second half then asks a series of questions based on what you've decided. This is where it's time for your own brain to tick over. But even if you're feeling a little blocked or uncreative, there are two things that make this easy. First, the questions generally start by stating a fact and asking you to elaborate. For example, rather than simply asking "what is this NPC like," the card might tell you that the character has a false exterior, then ask what they are hiding beneath it.

The second thing that helps is that every card asks two questions about how this new story element relates to a PC. For example, which PC does this character become fascinated with? Or, which PC has extra expertise that helps them adapt to a certain new place? I found that, by imagining my group in action, I had more ideas at the ready. This also serves the purpose of ensuring that every new addition serves the party and gives at least one player a chance to shine.

As a multiplayer experience, it's a bit like The Quiet Year, albeit without the mapping element. As players draw cards, they bounce ideas off each other, slowly creating a world that builds on everything that's come before. Much like D'Amato's Oh Captain, My Captain!, this feels like it could also be a great warm-up when played with fewer cards. If you happen to be GMing for a game that encourages collaborative worldbuilding, this could also be a way to get ideas flowing.

I have yet to encounter something from the Ultimate RPG Series that disappoints. Everything I read or play goes directly on my gaming shelf, if not directly into my gaming bag. This series has measurably improved my gaming experience both as a player and a GM, and this in particular is a tool I'll be pulling off the shelf on a regular basis.

The Ultimate RPG Worldbuilding Deck is now available from Adams Media.