It’s the beginning of a new year, and retrospectives are totally a thing. 2013 featured the ten-year anniversary of my high school graduation, which has had me thinking about the last ten years.

This year saw the launch of a Kickstarter campaign to fund my next webcomic — and I have high hopes not only for 2014, but pretty much the rest of my life.

Why?

– I suffered the second worst breakup of my life in 2005 — my D&D group. We continued gaming together the next several years, but it was never the same again. I had become pretty self-destructive and it was probably my fault.

– Each of my relationships fell apart in turn, and I continued to experience the repercussions of my poor decisions for the next five years. That didn’t actually dissuade me from continuing to make bad decisions however.

– I was elected to the student board at my college after applying on a whim. I didn’t do well in the position, as I discovered my crippling fear of leading campus tours. I took dance classes because they were plentiful, comparatively inexpensive, and I was having a lot of fun. I mixed in acting classes for good measure.

– I played Arkham Horror for the first time and began performing improvisational comedy on a semi-regular basis at anime conventions. I mention these together because they happened at the same time — also when I staffed at a convention for the first time, and found that I enjoyed staffing more than attending.

– I discovered National Novel Writing Month through a friend, which I tried for the first time. I failed miserably after writing something like two thousand words. I wouldn’t try to write another novel for NaNoWriMo until two years later, in 2007.

– I attended my first GenCon, where I discovered my love for convention gaming. From that point forward, my efforts for several years were devoted to going to as many conventions and playing as many games as possible.


I spent a great deal of the year trying to get my head back on straight. I experienced DM “burnout” for the first time, after sixteen months. Incidentally, sixteen months seemed to be the longest I could commit to a regular activity.