Dorian Teaches Amanda Lesson 2

I don’t like losing.

It seems to me that there are already enough opportunities to lose—choosing a job, choosing a date, applying to schools/jobs, sending out writing, picking a movie for the night…why, then, oh WHY would you willingly, happily, excitedly put yourself in an EXTRA situation of potential loss?

I.E. Why would you ever play a board game??

We were challenged to teach each other something the other new nothing about. Dorian is teaching me Warhammer/Games Workshop. Dorian’s first lesson in Games Workshop was successful—we constructed some little boats, and we played a very basic version of the game. And I did like it, as he said. But he neglected to mention the post important aspect of that evening…namely, that I won.

The second lesson didn’t go so well—Dorian decided the next step would be to play a slightly more complicated version of the same game. A logical move. Unfortunately, half-way through it was apparent that I couldn’t win.

“Half-way through?” you may say. “If it was apparent that you couldn’t win, why was there another half of the game?” Maybe you won’t say that. But that is what I said, and kept saying during the hour in which I tried to stop choosing my own cards/rolling my own dice/moving my own ships, and resorted to (maturely) “napping” in-between turns as a way to dull the pain of my slow-yet-inevitable demise.

For someone who already hates losing (who won’t play tennis or even Mario Kart for points) it was basically an evening of torture. I just this minute read on Wikipedia that in chess, it is considered bad etiquette to keep playing after checkmate!

But Dorian says you have to “play out the story,” and apparently my next lesson is to be on character backgrounds, and how this game is not about winning, but creating a world….I’m excited to see how this works…

~Amanda

Dorian Begins to Teach Amanda Something . . . Not Just Any “Board Game”

“Board games.  I mean, board games?  Are we talking about  . . . board games?  I mean, board games are alright, but—board games?  I’ve played a lot of board games.  I just don’t like board games.”

Yes, Amanda, talking about board games, sounded a lot like Allen Iverson,  talking about practice.  There was quite the negativity in her every pronouncing of the words “board games”.

And yes, most board games can be a little monotonous, as you wait for other people to complete their turn before taking yours.  And yes, board games often have a certain ceiling of just how fun they can be: very few times do you hear of a board game being “wildly, unbelievable amazing” or “mind-blowing” or “the most memorable experience of 2007”.

I, challenged as a I was to teach Amanda something that I knew well (and that had been important to my life somehow) was not trying to teach her just any board game.  I was trying to teach her a Games Workshop game, based in a full-blown fantasy world of its creation.

Games Workshop makes sci-fi and fantasy miniature war games.  These games are not designed to be played for an hour or so on a Thursday evening, but rather are designed to be an entire hobby–one that can (and does for those who are devoted to it) take hours and hours over the course of years.

You collect, model, and paint each miniature–in extreme, amazing detail.  Then you create names, background, and stories for your miniatures, that fit in with the fantasy worlds created by the people at Games Workshop.  Then you create (model) the scenery for an encounter between two players’ miniatures and make up a scenario (a fictional situation) in which these two armies of miniatures might meet.  And THEN you play the game–which is elaborate (if I may be so bold as to make an understatement) and designed to represent such a meeting between strange, magical, (miniature) fantastical armies.

Some people come into the Games Workshop hobby from the painting end, attracted by the idea of painting miniatures.  Others come in because the strategic element appeals to them.  Others, from encountering the world of its fiction (there are countless novels based on the Games Workshop games, some of them best-sellers, many of them available in your average Barnes and Noble).  But all of them (and this is my point) would say of their hobby, “Ain’t’ no game of Parcheesi.”

And so, though Amanda has had some negative experiences with board games–and even some board games of a fantasy/sci-fi bent–I had a great deal of hope that she might get into it, after she let the negativity seep out of her “board games”.

We played Dreadfleet, a game based on naval warfare–tiny, miniature ships.  I think (you might have to check again with her on this) that Amanda had a good time.  And (more than that) she is excited to paint the little ships.  My hope is that her enjoyment with that aspect of the hobby will tie in, at least a little bit, with her later playing of the actual games.

HOOT, a Distract-zor, Kind of Like a Challenge-zor (see icon below), but Bad

So we have been a little distracted recently.  Well, not distracted exactly—just plain busy.

Just like making life-size papier mache takes a little longer than you might think, so does . . . everything else in life, apparently.

Particularly (in our case) founding a new literary magazine!

Yes, we recently started a literary magazine.  But no, it’s not “just” another literary magazine—ours is strange (yet cool) because it is on a postcard.

It is a literary magazine on a postcard, founded by us, and it is called HOOT.  You can find it on the web at http://hootreview.com

We are very excited to be starting this (and thank you to all who have submitted or subscribed,) but it has kept us very busy with things like– selecting a piece for the first postcard, designing the first postcard, addressing and mailing that same postcard…and just as soon as we thought we were finished, it seems November is just about here and it’s time to do it all again!

Plus, we started free online writing workshops every Wednesday. And also, general marketing (finding people to actually submit/subscribe) is prettttttty hard.

. . . it all really does take awhile.

Which means other things, like paper mache and writing a YA novel, might also take an extra while. Which is okay, we think…because it’s kind of like a challenge itself– in that neither one have done this before, and it’s kind of a large, capital-P Project, even though no one officially challenged us to do it.

The Distract-ZOR is ALSO hungry

Doing Giant Life-Sized Dogs in Papier Mache Takes a Little While

We were challenged to make a Life-Sized Paper Mache replica of Dogs Playing Poker (the painting).

Oh the enthusiasm with which we pounced upon this project! Oh the naivety with which we believed we would be finished in two months time!

You would not think (or we did not think) that dipping little strips of paper in glue, and then smoothening them onto some wire, would take hours. But friends, it does.

To give you a specific idea of how much time it takes: putting one layer of paper onto a dog’s single arm takes approximately 1-2 hours. This time does not include the time spent BUILDING the arm itself, which is another 1-2 hours.

It is true: if we weren’t doing a few other small projects (like our literary magazine postcard, hootreview.com…we just released our first issue!) and writing a novel, and thinking-about-but-not-always-performing acts of kindness…and also busy settling into new jobs…we might move along faster.

Also, it might help if we were paper mache masters…

That said, we are progressing. Our progress can best be seen, probably, in pictures.

Dog party in our living room

Chillin'

After we finish this paper layer, we will move on to making “paper clay” which will be used to shape details, smoothen curves, and generally add support, because I don’t think we have the patience to put ANOTHER layer of paper strips

…which is maybe what we’re supposed to do…

Act of Kindness 14/20 and an Unfortunate Accidental Collection of Tennis Puns

It is hard to believe we are only on our 14th act of kindness. It feels like we have been doing acts of kindness (or not doing them, or thinking about doing/not doing them) for a year–which if we do not hurry up and do the last five, we will have done.

My appreciation for random acts of kindness has definitely increased, as it really does take some effort to both THINK about doing the deed, and then do it. Especially if you are bent upon making every single act of kindness both creative and unique, which we seem to be (but may cease doing soon, as we more and more wistfully think about simply buying strangers coffee, and other classics).

Our latest: Let a Little Boy Try Tennis and Have a Ball (not a pun).

This may not seem that kind at first. But imagine– you have been playing tennis for an hour. You’ve gotten into the swing of things. Your muscles are warm, your heartbeat is in the zone, you are focused on crushing your opponent (even if, as we do, you don’t play games or matches…you just play each ball as its own potential domination factor).

Then, from your side, there’s a racket–a little boy is shaking the fence, trying to get your attention. “Yes?” you finally say, slightly exasperated, as your next serve was about to be a fireball. “Can I try?” he asks.

To be honest, we hesitated. But eventually we waved him in, and he delightly swung and (less delightly) hit a tennis ball out of the courts.

Later on, we let him keep a ball too.

It was one of those situations where, because we were in the middle of something, our initial inclination was to turn away things that were NOT in the middle of that something too. But letting the boy “try tennis” only took three minutes, which he enjoyed, and we enjoyed watching him enjoying.

Our tennis momentum was a little slowed, but overall, a net positive.

 

–Also. Side note: it seems impossible not to write something about tennis without making tennis puns. How many can YOU find?…and I PROMISE only the last one was intentional (maybe).

 

Two People Writing a Novel Together–an Updated Procedure

Neither one of us has ever written a novel before. Neither one of us has ever written something in a partnership.

This means, in working to complete the challenge of “Writing/Publishing A Young Adult Novel” we are both doing two sort of large new things (at least). There has been a lot of trial and error. And our process has changed a lot since the last time we wrote about writing.

When we last blogged about the YA book (see that post here) we were alternating writing every other day, passing the story back and forth, and picking up where the other left off—we wrote linearly in time, following each others’ lead.

After a while, the plot spun out so far, trailing so many unconnected strings and gaps, that we had to have a meeting. Or seven meetings. Or ten.

Yes, we held two-person meetings at designated times, during which we sat on opposite ends of the library and talked via gchat. This was intended to limit emotionality as we “discussed” (i.e. battled for) various plot elements and character traits.

At the end of it, we had reworked some of the beginning and figured out the ending. As to what went in between the beginning and ending…well, all we had were some very detailed character sketches (Myke has an iguana, apparently…) and a big question-mark-shaped hole. We have no idea what happens in the middle of our story, 

So that’s where we are now. Inside that hole. We’ve changed our approach a lot—We still write every other day (alternating), but we don’t write linearly anymore—we just write some scenes, in a random order, with the characters that we defined in them. By writing different scenes that these characters might find themselves in, we’re slowly figuring out what this story is about.

…and Amanda Will Teach Dorian the Delights of Acting Games

A little while ago, we completed the challenge of “writing and performing a 10-minute play in iambic pentameter.”

Well, we didn’t write much about it then, but before the performance, we had some rehearsals. And as part of the rehearsals, we played some acting games, or rather—I rushed around giving too-brief, super-excited directions, and Dorian got quieter and quieter.

That’s when I realized the huge gap in our acting knowledge –I didn’t think about the games as being potentially intimidating, or overwhelming…though when I stopped prancing around long enough to think about it, I remembered coming home from my first three acting classes in tears.

So, because we were challenged to “teach, as well as possible within a week, one thing that I know that the other knows nothing about”, I have decided to teach Dorian acting games—not just because acting (and the games involved) have played kind of a major role in my life thus far (understatement) but also because the point of the games is to increase focus and precision of movement, and to decrease self-consciousness (the bad kind)—blah blah blah, which overall is supposed to build self-confidence…which is good for everyone!

Also they are fun.

So I’m busy developing a delicious curriculum involving pulling imaginary things from imaginary bags, and dancing, and pretending to be water, and masks, and….oh boy!

…Dorian is not as excited as he should be.

Dorian Will Teach Amanda the Epic Game of Fantasy Battles

I must teach Amanda something.  Something that she does not know very well, and that does not suck.

I’m not going to lie, but my first thought was—Ludwig Wittgenstein!

His Philosophical Investigations, I do think is great, and it is difficult to read (difficulty being a theme of this blog) and yet . . .

And yet, I didn’t want to teach her Wittgenstein’s philosophy, or how to read Wittgenstein, or anything like that.  I wanted to teach her something fun, something we could do together, something from the primal and biographical depths of my childhood, something that she had absolutely never before experienced . . .

I want to teach her . . . and even now, I can barely manage to write the word (it’s too ridiculous). . .

WARHAMMER, the game of fantasy battles.

Yes, it is a pseudo-board game involving the painting of miniature fantasy creatures that fight epic (yet miniature) battles against each other.

Imagine if you took Risk, and set it in Middle Earth (where the Lord of the Rings is set), and made it four times more complex (and twenty-five times more dorky).  That is what WARHAMMER, the game of fantasy battles, is like.

And yes, it is actually kind of fun.  Amanda’s not that warlike, but she is kind of dorky and very imaginative (and a little competitive) so there is some small hope that she will enjoy WARHAMMER, the game of fantasy battles.

But it’s a small hope.  I do think it will be something very different for her, and cool exploration of what was for central to my experience of free time during middle school.

We will battle Lizardmen (Amanda) against Skaven rats (Dorian)

Other Types of Challenges- or, why we haven’t posted as often of late

We were supposed to have finished three challenges by September 18^th, but the status of our challenge completion is almost exactly where it was a month ago.

What happened?

Well, simply–It turns out that NOT moving out of the country takes up almost as much time as actually going.

We have been insanely busy with the following things:

• –Actually moving into our home. All those boxes of winter clothes, art supplies, and Warhammer game pieces (Dorian’s) that we weren’t planning on taking abroad? Gotta unpack them now. We’ve also needed to set up a more functional kitchen—so we’ve been shopping for and assembling Ikea cabinets, moving washers and dryers around, and organizing our cans of black beans and bags of rice.
• –Getting actual jobs. Getting jobs is hard in general, but the jobs we were looking for had very specific requirements – namely, 1) They couldn’t be in the morning, because that was our time for writing our YA novel; 2) They couldn’t be full time (which would interfere with challenge-doing), and 3) They couldn’t suck. We have spent days filling out job applications and going on interviews—often two interviews in a day. We’re almost done—Amanda accepted a job as a private music teacher (!) and Dorian had two interviews today for very “promising” positions.
• -Dealing with the hurricane. Our apartment flooded. Our microwavable Indian boxes were floating. Everything was hung up to dry, all over the place. Plus, the power was out for five days… YOU try paper macheing in the dark.
• –Visiting with friends we thought we weren’t going to see for a while. We thought we were moving to another country, so we’d bought tickets to California to go camping with Dorian’s college friends.
• –Washing cat pee out of our bed. The cat didn’t like it when we left for California (see above). Cat pee scent is ferociously determined.
• –Starting a new project. Not moving abroad means we’ll have TONS of free time…for running a business? Err…We co-founded and are now the proud editors of a postcard literary magazine, HOOT, (http://hootreview.com) which we have been spending time promoting.

SO—this post is just to let you know (if you’ve been wondering or worrying about our slowed momentum) that we will hopefully be back to our normal challenge-doing schedule next week or the one after. We’re very much looking forward to it.

Hundreds of Blank Checks on Street after Hurricane: An Act-of-Kindness Dilemma

Once upon a time, Dorian was walking the streets after a hurricane.  Blank checks were scattered about, among other debris.

Dorian thought, ‘I will rescue these checks, and mail them to their owners.’  That way, he figured, no scoundrel could misuse them.

And Dorian picked up those blank checks, and continued walking.  But—as Dorian continued walking, he saw (what else?) but more, and more blank checks.

He was walking on a street littered with blank checks. There were too many to pick up and re-mail.  ‘Probably, these checks are some kind of trash.  Out-of-date checks.  Checks that were in the garbage, and so more easily blown about during a hurricane.’

And so he threw away the blank checks he picked up.

Did he make an ‘I can’t help all the poor people, so I won’t help any of the poor people’ type of mistake?  Should he have simply kept the checks he picked up, mailed them to their owners, and counted it as an act of kindness?

We let the reader decide.