GDJ Epilogue: A Tip-Toe 'cross the Chasm

PART ONE: Wrapping Up

Well, this is it. The end of the trip. I won't bore you with worn out Grateful Dead lyrics (never was a fan, anyway), but I will say that I never thought the whole thing would be so damn long. I remember reading Frank Miller's afterward to the first Sin City graphic novel, when he said he originally planned the whole thing to be about a dozen pages or so. Three hundred pages later, he's got a monster named Marv on his hands, rampaging through his life, putting a bullet in the head of anything that distracted him from telling his tale.

My Marv's name was Bashthraka. He wouldn't let me put the damn book down.

It's been more than a year, and there's a few last things to say. A few last words of advice for all you out there who still have the wistful notion that this journey is worthwhile (another Chapin lyric).

It's been two weeks, and I've read the book cover-to-cover three times, circling every mistake. And, there's a lot of them. Problem is, I remember fixing more than a few. Something went wrong between me and the printer, and I'm not sure what it is just yet. You already know about the missing two pages of Afterward. There's a couple other things I would have done differently had I a spare week, and Tom's just cracking to get a hold of the scans I made and touch them up. So, yes, I will be reprinting the book. However, here's a promise for you:

There will be no additional material in the reprint. None. I will fix typos and other errors, but I will not add anything new& with one notable exception. The only "new" thing that goes in will be the Afterward, and that will be available on the web page in a few days. If I included new rules or rule patches, people would have a right to complain. Two pages of pure self-indulgence that has absolutely no effect on game play? I don't think I'm too concerned if people complain about that.

But, I want you guys to know something about those typos. Chris Hepler, Jennifer Brandes, Rich McHugh, The Wife and I sat up all weekend and read through that text. We circled everything. We made sure it all got changed. And even with five people combing through that text, mistakes still got through. I don't know how, but I'm gonna find out. I've got the disks I sent to the printer and I've got my original drafts on backup. I'm going to go through those disks and backups with a copy of the book and find out where the errors originated. Then, I'll let you know.

And speaking of "letting you know," while the GDJ will continue (wait for it), all Orkworld updates will now be found at www.orkworld.com. I'll be putting a whole mess of new material up very soon. If anyone wants to put a Winter Home link up, just drop me a line and I'll take care of it.

For those of you who are wondering just how much Orkworld cost me (the final tally), get your calculators ready.

That's $14,640.

Now, Rich took care of the printing costs. However, he did so with the understanding that he'd get 50% return on his investment. Add another $4750 on to that total and you've got a grand sum of $19,390.

If the entire print run sold through distributors, I'd make a grand total of $24,000. That's 3000 books at $25, minus Eric's 12% and the distributor discount of 60%, for a total of about $8 a book, for a total profit of ($24,000 - $19,390) $4,610.

Four and a half grand for a year of work. Thank Bashdowmga Eric does internet sales.

Every internet sale is worth $22. If I sell eleven hundred copies over the internet, I make more than through the distributors. That's a third of the books for the same money. And, as Eric's told me, I've sold more books through the internet than I've sold through the distribution channels. I'll let you figure that one out for yourselves.

* * *

You know the old cliché: "I'm not very good at goodbye?"

Well, the one and only writing teacher I ever needed gave me a bit of advice once I'll carry with me to the grave.

"Writers don't use clichés, John. They invent clichés."

* * *

PART TWO: Goodbye to Two Daughters

Gen-Con taught me a lot. One of those lessons was all about letting go.

I left out one major event at Gen-Con. It happened on Sunday. It was the L5R Finals.

I won't go into details, but suffice to say, it taught me something important. It taught me how to let go. Or, as the orks would say, "Stupid man. If you aren't carrying it, it isn't yours."

For a very long time now, I've been living on the periphery of game worlds I helped develop. I'm speaking, of course, of Rokugan and Théah. There's a lot of emotion there, a lot of love, sweat and tears.

And it's time, once and for all, to say goodbye.

I haven't carried Rokugan for a long time. Not since the Day of Thunder. Kachiko was my viewpoint character. I spoke her first words, and I spoke her last. That's it. All done.

Théah, on the other hand, is an entirely different goodbye. I hardly got time to know her. Jenny and I, in many ways, were her surrogate parents. It's hard to watch other people raise your kids. Yes, there's things I would have done differently. But, it's not for me to say. She's not my daughter.

Now, don't get me wrong: I was born a Scorpion, I live my life a Scorpion, and if The Lady demands, I'll die a Scorpion. If somebody comes up to me at a con and wants to talk L5R or 7th Sea, I'll be more than happy to sit down and chat about my girls. But every time I do, it'll be like giving her away at her wedding.

They're not my little girls anymore.

PART THREE: One Last Rant

It's a quick one. Trust me.

I just got e-mail from a buddy of mine who was at Gen-Con when I read No Regrets. He wrote:

John,

I'm sorry I missed your reading of the Last Kachiko Story. My son was in the Pokemon tournament, just across a few tables from where you were reading. I saw you stand up on the chair, lose your composure more than once and fight against the bullhorn announcements.

There were twelve people in the Pokemon tournament. A photographer from the WotC daily rag was there taking pictures. I told her who you were and what you were doing. I pointed out the huge crowd gathered around you and told her what was up. She blew me off and took more pictures of the Pokemon tournament. Oh well. Their loss.

For those of you who weren't at Gen-Con, WotC had a daily Gen-Con newspaper, covering the major events of the con. I checked each and every day. Not a single L5R event was covered. Not one.

Not even an event that didn't involve a single prize, but drew three hundred people anyway.

And, by the way, they weren't there for me. They were there for The Lady.

PART FOUR: Putting Things Away

Putting things away. One by one.

Tom's got all the art back. The disks are stored away in a cold, dark and dry space. The Wife and I have time to talk again. She's excited about a zombie story. I'm hip on writing a short fiction piece for that Pendragon anthology coming up. Both of them are less than 5,000 words. First drafts will take an afternoon. Edits at night. Re-writes the next day. We're excited about working on something that isn't a game.

But then, of course, my vacation is short. In a couple of weeks, I'll start working on Warhamster 3rd Edition. That'll take a month at most. Ten episodes.

And then? The biggest thing I've ever tried to do.

The Flux.

So, after all this heavy, heart-wrenching stuff, we get a light romp through the mind of Joe Cottonworthy (you'll meet him next week), a monster, epic task. Consider W: 3E the ginger between the sushi.

And, before I forget, let me say a final thank you.

To you. Yes, you.

You who have been here since Episode One.

You who joined up around Episode Nine because someone told you we were doing something special here.

You who dropped out after Episode Five, picked us back up at Episode Fifteen, dropped us again, picked us back up and stuck 'round 'till the end.

And even you, who are only just now reading for the first time.

All of you. The Wick fan-boys, the nay-sayers, the critics, the self-appointed foils at my obviously over-inflated ego (yes, you too), and the ones who've never said a single word, but just sit back quietly and listen, smiling to yourself.

I thank you.

And I hope to see you again soon.

Take care,
John