games

Boston has been about seventy degrees for Christmas. This is all highly anomalous and the house I stayed at was been stuffy and warm. I’ve gotten some reading done and some gaming and plenty of knitting.  

The reading’s pretty all over the place:

I’ve been making music, playing games, writing games, programming tools, and writing stories since I realized I could. Not all at the same time. For years it was music, then games and music, and now writing. For a while, I feared myself a creative dilettante. I assure myself that music is something I can get back to. I tell myself I’ve made some interesting music already whether I do go back to it or not. I don’t need an identity as ‘a composer’ or ‘a writer’ because I have already made music and written some stories and they have made me and a few others feel things. I still get neurotic about it, though.

I have never fancied myself a writer. I loved writing when I was young, and I have always loved reading. As I aged, I stopped writing fiction. My internal editor and censor was too loud to squeeze much out. I would have plenty of stories in my head, but I would only jot down notes and use them as inspiration for the pen-and-paper/LARP games I was involved in. Writing is a craft that requires plenty of dedication and practice. Since I have so many hobbies, I've never thought I'd have the energy to give writing my stories. However, I recently had an idea that learning to write could improve my communication.

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