Jess Banks schools you.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #9: Have you ever played a character of the opposite sex? Why or why not? If yes, how did the other players react? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I can only think of two male characters that I created and played–I’m sure I’ve played male pregens at cons over the years, but they don’t stick in my memory so much. The first was the aforementioned Wasabi Delmonico, the San Francisco Kid. He was for a pulp one-shot, a Chinese-American teenager who raced soapbox derby carts down the Bay Area hills and did other sorts of wacky stunts. I think we fought flying gorilla men. His name is clearly the most memorable thing about him; his gender wasn’t really a factor in the game.

The second male character I played was in a con game, but he’s lodged in my memory (and possibly those of other players) as firmly as any character in an extended campaign. My friends Lydia and Rob had raved about the fantastic sessions of Run Out the Guns! they’d played at Gen Con the year before, run by the game’s creator and historical-replica sailor Jason Hawkins. There’s a big focus on historicity and realism, for all that it’s a swashbuckling adventure game, so I didn’t want to introduce the anachronism of a female sailor, or deal with all the actual prejudice and liabilities that would come with portraying a woman accurately in the setting.

So I made a bosun’s mate named Hamish Macbeth, a brawny ginger Scot. I was thoroughly immersed in the BBC series based on the M.C. Beaton books at the time, so sue me for unoriginality if you must. I’m a pretty fine vocal mimic, so that same immersion meant that I could affect a mighty strong (and fairly accurate, if I do say so myself) Highland accent. Jason was an amazing GM–his extensive work on the Rolemaster system meant he could handle the technical aspects with a facility not associated with Rolemaster, and his deep knowledge of the setting and ships meant he made very complex things run with a wild, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, theatrical ease. The ship battles were epic, and it’s a bosun’s mate’s job to relay orders from the captain to the crew. I did this in a salty, broguey bellow that was, upon reflection, completely inconsiderate to every other game going on in the labyrinthine basement of Milwaukee’s Mecca Center. But, great good gods, did we have fun.

When the game was over, Jason shook my hand heartily and said, “Hamish, man, I’d follow you straight into hell with that voice!” I’ve shared that compliment often over the years, as one of the highlights of my game convention experience, but only upon thinking of my answer to this prompt did it occur to me that Jason and my fellow players referred to me and called for my attention all that night with male pronouns and epithets. I was so deeply into Hamish’s head that I honestly didn’t notice.

I’m not usually so thoroughly sunk in a character that I forget I’m not him/her, and the dissonance between my feminine self and a masculine character when I’m not completely in either world is the reason I don’t play male characters more often. I can’t possibly know what it’s like to be inside a man’s head, and I wouldn’t dare to suggest that I do, so I don’t trust myself to accurately portray a man’s motivations as I make decisions for that character. I think most game settings and GMs go out of their way to allow for greater gender balance than strictly historical mores would accommodate, so I haven’t felt restricted in my character choices by sticking with the gender I know.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #10: Have you ever played a character originally from a book/TV/movie? How did the character change from the original as you played? If not, who would you most like to play? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I’ve played a lot of great characters from book, TV, and movie settings I love, but for this prompt, all I can think about are the ones I despise. I’m going to bring some flak from earnest fans, but here’s the honest truth:

I HATE Sand from The Chronicles of Amber and Goldmoon from Dragonlance.

For those not familiar with these characters, here’s a bit of background. The Wikipedia entry for Sand and her brother Delwin, introduced in Blood of Amber, says this: “Delwin (brown & black) and Sand (pale tan & dark brown), twin brother and sister. They only lived a short time in Amber, preferring to live in the Shadow worlds and keep themselves removed from the affairs of their siblings.” I think it was the Diceless RPG by Erick Wujcik that introduced the idea that Sand has power over the dreams of others, but I’m not entirely certain of this. In any case, she’s a minor character, and she’s as flat and colorless as the substance for which she’s named.

And I’ve never played Goldmoon in a run-through of the Dragonlance adventures that didn’t make me wonder why Goldmoon and Riverwind didn’t take their toy and go home. In one particularly memorable campaign, Goldmoon met the rest of the companions as they punched Flint repeatedly, in an effort to render him senseless so they could cross the river. I’ve got lots of problems with the character, but frankly, I’ve never been able to get past that first, most essential obstacle.

The cruelest thing my Darling Husband has ever done to me was to make me play Goldmoon in a Dragonlance one-shot while we were hanging out with friends in New Zealand. Halfway through the game, all the characters “woke up” to discover that they were actually Amberites, being manipulated through their dreams. And Goldmoon was actually Sand.

At which point, the words “divorce” and “green card” and “one-way ticket home” were casually thrown into the conversation.

Ironically, though Cam writes RPGs for licensed properties, I’ve only played Smallville once; I’ve never had the chance to play Serenity, Supernatural, Demon Hunters, Leverage, or Marvel Heroic Roleplaying. This isn’t because I wouldn’t love to. Rather, it’s a function of not being able to afford babysitters for game nights, and game conventions being work rather than play for us, on the rare occasions in the last decade when we can arrange someone to stay with the boys so I can attend. Hopefully, that’ll change, and I can finally find out what all the buzz is about.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #7: How do you pick names for your characters? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I’m influenced quite a bit by the setting–if there’s a clear analog to a time period or ethnic culture, I like to find a name that fits in the landscape. Just Google “baby names” and you’ll find all sorts of fantastic lists, often with meanings attached; www.babyhold.com has one of my favorites, with lots of ethnic names to choose from. I also read a lot, and books are fantastic sources of names. You might even keep a list of your own, with your gaming supplies, so you can remember the nifty names you come across in odd places. I’ve been inspired by names I found in alumni mailings, historical documents, garden centers, news reports, even on menus (I once had a pulp character named Wasabi Delmonico, after a steak description at a trendy bar and grill!).

And in case you’re the kind who does keep lists, here’s an incomplete list of character names I’ve used over the years (in no particular order): Selwyn, Rebekah, Julia, Rosemary, Margaret (aka Maggie the Book), Caledonia (Callie, for short), Bethan, Mercia, Anthea, Amara, Constance, Helga (the Wonder Nurse), Astrid, Marilla, Serafina, Lysimachia (Lysa for short; it’s the Latin name for Loosestrife, which is awesome for a fairy name), Stella Cordaric, Twink (the halfling barbarian with a soup pot for a helmet), and Freya. I know I’ll kick myself for the ones I’m forgetting, but if any of you dear readers can remember other characters I’ve played over the years, feel free to post names in comments!

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #8: What’s the one gaming accessory (lucky dice, soundtrack, etc.) you just can’t do without? Why? (Courtesy of Atlas Games.)

I’m terrible at sitting still; I have Busy Hands ™. So my essential gaming accessory is a craft to work on while the game’s in progress. Over the years, I’ve crocheted, knitted, cross-stitched, and made jewelry at the gaming table; I do this while visiting, watching movies, even during church services (thank the gods for circular bamboo knitting needles; no danger of a mortifying clatter when you accidentally drop your knitting). This is what I’m working on at the moment; you can see examples of my jewelry here.

Some people–even other women–this takes aback. From the reactions I’ve gotten from some men at convention games as I took out my tools and fibers, you’d think I’d just whipped out a breast instead. Somehow, it seems, my crafting was an unwanted feminine intrusion into their macho adventure space. In other groups, it was the norm. The battlemat was littered with scraps of embroidery floss, yarn ends, wire snippings, and stray seed beads. All the women around the table were industriously working away on their blankets, quilts, or wall hangings, stopping only to roll a handful of dice and briskly announce, “I kill it.” It was like the awesomest kind of quilting bee-slash-special forces raid.

I know that not everyone can deal with someone efficiently multi-tasking in their presence; it looks to them like I’m not paying attention as they play their part of the scene. What I try to make them understand is that I’m actually far less likely to stay focused on the action if my hands are busy. That physical occupation calms the restless, seeking portion of my mind, allowing the creative part to fully concentrate in the mental task at hand. I’d be curious to know how many other gamers on the ASD spectrum function better while stimming. I’m fortunate that my stim of choice masks what it’s doing for me in a sensory capacity. And when I’m done stimming, I have pretty things to show for it.

Initially, I wrote this post as a note on Facebook last June, but I’m moved to repost it here. It’s been a hard week for a friend and her autistic daughter, as they struggle with a school that won’t give her what’s needed or even what’s right. It’s so hard to be a parent to these children and feel like we have anything close to what they demand, day in and day out. Every once in a while, though, you get a dividend, and somehow, other parents’ dividends show up in our paychecks too. So here’s mine, for you all, today.

Connor (in the tie-dyed shirt) leading our church group in the Twin Cities Pride parade, June 2011

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #6: Describe your all-time favorite character to play. What was it about him/her/it that you enjoyed so much? (Courtesy of Atlas Games)

I am terrible at picking favorites. That may make me a better mom, but it makes me a terrible blogger, and at the moment, it makes me an especially behind-in-posts blogger. I’ve been positively paralyzed with indecision for days now over this question, and there’s no way I’m ever going to be able to settle on a single favorite, so I’ll just write about two characters I enjoyed immensely.

The USO dance from "Memphis Belle."

Little known fact about me: if I could go back in time for one night to any period of history, I would go back to 1942 for a USO dance. (No, not the Middle Ages; I know so much about them that I’m quite sure I would be miserable back then.) I love the ’30s and ’40s–the fashion, the movies, the music, the architecture, and the general sensibility. Sure, I’d ditch the sexism and racism, and I know from direct testimony that the Great Depression sucked immeasurable ass; I’m not wishing things could be exactly like that again now, like some weirdly myopic nostalgic folks do. But I’d give a lot to check my hairpins and Max Factor red lipstick, straighten my stocking seams, and go swing dancing in an airplane hangar for one night (preferably with Capt. Jack Harkness, but I’m not picky).

As I’ve mentioned before, I also really love theatrical, over-the-top, seat-of-the-pants adventure roleplaying, and when pulp action games are at their best, that’s exactly what you get. So when the Darling Husband announced his plans to run some pulpy goodness using his own house system, I was all in.

My character was mild-mannered housewife Rosemary Rogers. But at night (you knew it was coming), she became a masked vigilante, determined to rid the streets of crime. She was…

The Cleaner!

No, this isn't The Cleaner, but it's in the ballpark.

Yes, with her matched shotguns Spic & Span, she patrolled the streets on her trusty Rinse Cycle, red raincoat snapping smartly behind her as she scoured New York City!

And she did kick unholy amounts of ass.

I don’t remember a lot of specific events, to be perfectly honest. She did fly a plane (or was it a pterodactyl?) through the window of a museum to escape some thugs, long before Ben Stiller did. And we had many fine confrontations with Mexican badguy El Suerte (later revealed to be criminal mastermind El Muerte) and his stubbly henchmen, led by the mountainous luchador El Toro.

If this all sounds terribly cheesy, you’re absolutely correct. That was the point. The puns, the one-liners, the ridiculous stunts–the only thing we didn’t have were giant primary-color speech balloons reading “POW!” and “BAM!” There was no deep angst, there were no wrenching decisions, there wasn’t even any meaningful character development. I’m not saying that those things don’t happen in good pulp/noir fiction or games; I’m just saying that we weren’t in the game for that. Personally, I was in it for the moments when I described the most outrageous, over-the-top stunt I could think of, earning a squint from Cam and, in a highly dubious tone of voice, these words: “Roll it.”

And somehow, far more often than probability math supports, I did.

I played in other fantastically fun pulp games over the years, most notably a one-shot of Silver Age Sentinels on one of our trips to California, in which I played a Judy Holliday-style ditzy blonde bombshell, exposed to an atomic test while visiting the troops in the Pacific, leaving her with flight and light powers. I called her The Hollywood Starlet, and I chewed gum and talked like Marisa Tomei does in “My Cousin Vinny.” While I did a number of heroic things in the game, I best remember tormenting Fred Hicks’ inscrutable Atlantean character Deep Blue by asking repeatedly, in that squeaky Brooklyn accent, “Deep blue what?!”

None of these characters are worth more than a few panels in a yellowed comic book, but for sheer untroubled fun, it doesn’t get much better.

Ironically, catching up with work at Atlas Games has put me behind on Atlas Games’ blog project, Reverb Gamers. But it’s a quiet afternoon at work, with no big restocking orders today and my bosses home with sick twins, I’m taking a moment to get up to date.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #3: What kind of gamer are you? Rules Lawyer, Munchkin/Power Gamer, Lurker, Storyteller/Method Actor, or something else? (Search “types of gamer” for more ideas!) How does this affect the kinds of games you play? For example, maybe you prefer crunchy rules-heavy systems to more theatrical rules-light ones.

This question refers to basic archetypes offered by game designer extraordinaire Robin Laws. If you’re not familiar these terms, he says most players fall into one of five categories, as summarized in an excellent blog post:

• The Power Gamer: Get more powers and use them often and efficiently.
• The Butt-Kicker: Enjoys combat and pwning NPCs!
• The Tactician: Like to beat complex situations through thought and planning.
• The Specialist: The one who plays a <insert character type here>. Ninjas and Drizzt clones are popular.
• The Method Actor: Likes total immersion in a character’s assumed persona, whatever the costs!
• The Storyteller: Enjoys exploring a story unfold around a character’s actions and choices.
• The Casual Gamer: Shows up to be with friends and share the social energies of the group.

(These are also the character types in the fantastically entertaining movie The Gamers: Dorkness Rising.)  Of those, I’m clearly The Storyteller: I love telling stories with my friends around characters. I explained this more fully a little earlier.

But I’m quite taken at the moment with a different set of classifications, offered by my dear friend Rob Donoghue:

• The Connector: Plays for story; rules are of negligible importance.
• The Evil Muppet: Creative, whimsical, engaged, and in it for a specific kind of interaction: he wants the GM to bring the pain.
• The Swooshy Giant Brain: Super-smart, but mostly just wants to stab things for fun.
• The Rookie: Enthusiastic, rules savvy, in it for fun, but with not as much experience to draw on.
• The Wildcard: Somehow both the most inspiring and most maddening player at the table, with a creative, twisted mind and enough rules know-how to take the whole game offroad.

These categories don’t make some of the assumptions that Robin’s do, the most problematic of which being the incompatibility of technical and creative emphases. Rob’s archetypes are patterned after mutual friends, which makes it personally fun, but they’re also more easily combined to reach a personal description.

In this system, I’m about 70% Connector, but at least 30% Wildcard; these proportions vary depending on my mood. It’s still all about the story for me, but some of my choices have been known to derail entire chunks of planned adventure. What can I say? It’s a gift.

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #4: Are you a “closet gamer?” Have you ever hidden the fact that you’re a gamer from your co-workers, friends, family, or significant other? Why or why not? How did they react if they found out?

I was surprised at how negatively some respondents took this question, so let me clarify. It’s pointing to the fact that some people feel that they have to hide their gaming, not suggesting that anyone should feel that they have to. And sure, if you’re writing a public response to this prompt, you’re probably not closeted anymore, but many kids had to dissemble with parents and teachers about what, precisely, they were doing with friends, so it’s not as alien a notion as it seems.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate in a number of ways that have prevented it from ever being necessary to hide my love of gaming. While very devout Christians, my family is the liberal, Methodist, God-is-love kind of Christian, not the kind that’s threatened by imagining worlds where other powers are possible. To their minds, we were kids who were reading, doing math, telling stories, and not committing crimes–what’s not to love? My work never made an issue of it, either. College is all about exploration, and I was only a lowly TA or adjunct, so nobody cared enough to be upset about my hobbies. And now my hobby is my work, at least for the time being.

All this being said, I know at least two good friends who do not want a word of their participation in gaming breathed outside the confines of the houses where the games take place. Both of them feel strongly that being “outed” as a gamer would be a liability to their careers, and I’m inclined to agree with them. Yes, it’s unfair, yes it’s silly, and yes, attitudes are changing. But they haven’t changed all the way, and some fields are more conservative in their expectations and acceptances.

So it’s still very possible to know these people. You may even game with them. Just something to be aware of when you go naming names in the posts about your weekly game. They’re not just being silly, and it’s nobody’s decision but theirs to let those around them know what they do for fun.

Me playing Gloom with some kids at the Student Council Game Day last May

REVERB GAMERS 2012, #5: Have you ever introduced a child to gaming, or played a game with a young person? How is gaming with kids different than gaming with adults?

The short answer is yes. I used to pack my copy of Kill Doctor Lucky when I went to substitute teaching assignments, and at some schools, kids would come up to me in the hall and ask whether they could sign into my study halls to play whatever I’d brought that day (yes, they asked a sub. Take a moment to absorb that.)

Now I have my own kids, and they’re finally at the ages (9.5 and 5.75, as of this moment) where I can enjoy playing organized games with them. I’ve also been doing this more for other people’s kids over the last year: I helped the Student Council at my boys’ school organize a Game Day, and I taught games at last fall’s Youth Pride Festival in Anoka, MN.

I’m not a particularly patient teacher of game rules, though, and I’m married to Cam Banks, a vastly more experienced GM with the skills and creativity to roll with whatever wacky plans the kids come up with, so I’m usually only in charge of teaching board and card games. That being said, it’s been unexpectedly fun, just over the last few months, to try out new finds and old favorites on my sons. They’ve really arrived at what I consider the earliest optimal age for games. Yes, I know they can play at much earlier ages; you don’t need to convince me. I just have this aversion to one particular feature of gaming with kids (or anyone): the complete devolution into silliness.

I love joking and kidding and having fun at the game table as much as the next person, but both the mom and the Aspergian in me absolutely lose it when kids start making the pawn figures knock each other around the table, and going up chutes and down ladders, and stealing money from the bank, and drawing cards until you get the one you want. Yes, I need to relax, and yes, more play teaches them play etiquette faster. I’ll be the first to say that my reaction is more a matter of me being annoyed than them being annoying. But it’s a barrier to enjoying games, and it leads to the urge to knee-jerk refuse requests to play something.

These things aren’t as much of a problem with RPGs, but sitting down to roleplay with kids requires a level of attention,energy, and uninterrupted time that isn’t always available in the day-to-day chaos. I really enjoy roleplaying with kids sometimes; we had friends’ pre-teen son at our games for several years, and it was just fine.

Gaming with my own pre-teen son is an astonishing experience. He thinks in storyboards, and he’s had an amazing grasp of narrative since he was two (no lie), so his capacity for character-driven drama and decisionmaking is far beyond his years. He’s also got that kid-gift for lateral thinking, which makes him a real Wildcard (see earlier) sometimes.

His Asperger’s brings its own blessings and challenges to the gaming table. His volume control goes away when he’s excited, which is most of the time when he’s having fun. He’s happiest when he’s the center of attention, so he’s not good with extended cut-away scenes that don’t involve his character (Cam does an awesome job of managing game flow to minimize this). And he gets really frustrated when the rules or chance won’t let him do what he’s picturing in his head; he takes it very personally when he can’t bring those visions to fruition. But his attention to detail, steel-trap memory, and typical Aspie fixations mean that, once he’s decided to master a system or if we’re playing in a world he knows and loves, he brings a level of sophistication that is frankly astonishing.

There’s nothing like gaming with kids to blast apart all the stodgy, preconceived notions experienced gamers bring to the table. As with everything else, they’re seeing it for the first time, and their perspective shatters the jaded accretions we’ve picked up over time. It’s good to be reminded of the wonderment we all experienced the first time we discovered the power to build worlds.

Reverb Broads 2011, December 30: If you could go on a trip regardless of cost, where would you go and what would you see? (courtesy of Dana at http://simply-walking.com)

I’ve already been crazy fortunate in how much of the world I’ve seen. I’d been to all 48 contiguous states, most of the provinces of Canada, and across the Mexican border before I graduated from high school. By the time I got married at 21, I’d added England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Poland, the Czech Republic, Italy, and New Zealand to the list. Like I said, crazy fortunate.

Still, there’s a whole lot of world left to see, and I’m an adventurous traveller. There are loads of things I want to see and do out there. Here are just a few:

• I want to see the wooden shrine at Ise in Japan. It’s the principal shrine for the Japanese Imperial Cult, and every twenty years, they completely rebuild the entire shrine complex on an adjoining plot because Shintos believe natural spirits live in trees, and renewing the wood rejuvenates the spiritual power of the temple.

• I want to sleep on a rooftop in Greece under that blue, blue Mediterranean summer sky.

• I want to eat my way across India, and wrap myself in its bright silk, and bathe in the holy Ganges, and let the liquid syllables of Hindi and all its dialects wash over me in the breathtaking heat.

• I want to take my family to the parts of America that stick in my memory like splinters: Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, the Black Hills, the Colorado Rockies, Yellowstone, Crater Lake, Bryce Canyon, the Grand Canyon, New Orleans, Savannah, Charleston, Vermont, Bar Harbor.

• I want to go alone to a storm-washed rock in the North Atlantic or Irish Sea and let the ascetic austerity settle deep in my spirit: Skye, Skellig Michael, Iona.

• I want to steep myself in the spices and the history of Morocco and Egypt.

• I want to hear the crackle and chime of the Aurora Borealis, or the eerie midnight sun, across the skies of Iceland and Sweden.

There are a few places I have relatively less interest in visiting (Russia, South America), but were I offered the opportunity, I’d be on a plane in a heartbeat, because I love the adventure of it all. And there are places I want to go, not for pleasure, but to help with the meager skills I have to leverage: Haiti, Congo, or Senegal.

In short, I want to keep travelling. I want to see everything.

***Reverb Gamers is a month-long blogging project for RPG, MMORPG, and LARP players. Each day in January, there’s a prompt that explores our experiences in gaming. You can find more information, and links to the participants’ daily posts, on the Facebook page for Reverb Gamers. This project is the genius plan of Michelle Nephew and me, on behalf of Atlas Games. Join in the fun! ***

Reverb Gamers 2012, January 2: What is it about gaming that you enjoy the most? Why do you game? Is it the adrenaline rush, the social aspect, or something else?

I game as performance art. Not freaky David Blaine performance art, but when I’m roleplaying, I’m creating something new so that others can (hopefully) enjoy it.

It scratches three itches for me, each distinct, but all intertwined.

The first is social. I’m loud and extroverted and chatty and gregarious. Roleplaying is the perfect activity with both good friends and new acquaintances. With good friends, there’s history, and all the joys that brings: in-jokes, running gags, the accretion of collective memory. You’re loose and comfortable, so risks don’t feel as risky. But even with folks you’ve just sat down with at a con table, RPGs break down so many barriers. You know you share a hobby, and common tastes, and probably a lot of cultural references. And the act of picking up a character sheet gives you license to put yourself out there a little more than you usually would with strangers, knowing you can always take cover in the shadow of your character.

The second is performance. I’m a performer at heart. I’ve sung in choirs since I was five, acted in countless plays and musicals. I stood in the middle of a football field playing a solo in marching band. I read aloud to my kids’ classes. I give sermons in church. I taught university classes for 15 years, and my teaching style is as much showmanship as it is preparation. Roleplaying is improv, and I’m very good at “Yes And…” I love putting on voices and accents, the postures and gestures of strangers. It’s wonderful, intimate theater, with infinite possibilities.

The third is fiction. It’s taken me a long time to come to the conclusion that I’m probably not destined to write a novel; I can’t do plot very well. So many writers I know say they’re just scribes to the scenes playing in their heads. That’s not me. I feel more like a medium, when I’m roleplaying. My characters regularly shock and surprise me, and I’ve found myself saying or typing something for them that I didn’t see coming. If I have a gift for roleplaying, it’s a gift of reacting well. It’s not as admirable as being able to create story whole-cloth, but it’s given me a lot of good moments over the years.

Reverb Broads 2011, December 29: What was the soundtrack of your year? Of your life? Which songs most strongly represent the various eras of your life? What songs were playing for the most crucial, formative moments of your life? Or, if the chronological approach doesn’t work for you, which songs best capture the different facets of your life? (Childhood, Love Life, Adulthood, Loss, Growth, Career, Happiness, Sadness, etc.) Please elaborate. (courtesy of Bethany/Katie)

These are just a few of my songs. I know, the list is unbelievably long as it is, but it feels so incomplete. Some of them, I don’t even like, but most of them I always have and always will. And, for better or for worse, they’re like little hyperlinks to my memory. I did the best I could with the actual links; there’s supposed to be a YouTube clip attached to each. If it doesn’t go where it’s supposed to, you can Google as well as (or better than) I can. And how could I do it in anything other than mixtape form?

Side A: Child and Teen Jess

“The Bare Necessities” from Disney’s The Jungle Book — my favorite movie, age 2

The Star Wars theme — my new favorite movie, age 2.5

“Stardust” by Willie Nelson — my first concert, age about 2

“Help!” by The Beatles — Mom is a Beatlemaniac, and she started us young

“The Rainbow Connection” from The Muppet Movie — my new favorite movie, age 4; also excellent for showing off at the rollerskating rink

“Tomorrow” from Annie — my new favorite movie, age 7, and a good audition piece

“Mickey” by Toni Basil — those first heady days of MTV and the roller-rink

“Thriller” by Michael Jackson — the cassette I got with my first walkman

“Purple Rain” by Prince — my first R-rated movie (I still stop to watch it whenever it’s on VH1)

“The One I Love” by R.E.M. — my first taste of college radio in my stepbrother’s room

“All Cried Out” by Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam — my first junior high dance drama

“(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” by Bill Medley and Gloria Loring from Dirty Dancing — my new favorite movie, age 13

“Watermark” by Enya — mission trip to Appalachia, and my first taste of New Age music

“Everyday Is Like Sunday” by Morrissey — my first kiss

“So Alive” by Love and Rockets — my first chaperone-less concert

“With Or Without You” by U2 — my first high school dance drama, and the beginning of a 10-month abusive relationship

“Three Little Maids from School Are We” from The Mikado — my first college-level theater experience, as a HS sophomore in the chorus

“Skid Row (Downtown)” from Little Shop of Horrors — music from the soundtrack I sang with my girlfriends as they took me in and protected me after the abuse

“Blue Monday” by New Order — falling in love at music camp

“Cuts You Up” by Peter Murphy — first (voluntary) you-know-what

“In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel — first big breakup

“You Are The Everything” by R.E.M. — falling in love at World Affairs Seminar

“Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd — senior year long-distance relationship

“Blister in the Sun” by Violent Femmes — senioritis and graduation

“Under the Bridge” by Red Hot Chili Peppers — school trip to France

Side 2 — College and Old Jess

“These Are Days” by 10,000 Maniacs — first semester of college

“One Night in Bangkok” from Chess — first off-campus apartment with a boyfriend

“Supervixen” by Garbage — AmberMUSH and the start of so many good things

“Possession” by Sarah McLachlan — end of an engagement; freedom

40-Part Motet by Thomas Tallis — singing in my fantastic college choir

“Linger” by The Cranberries — study abroad in France, and the beginning of a courtship

“Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden — dating by phone call and mix tape

“Je t’aimais, je t’aime, et je t’aimerai” by Francis Cabrel — life in France

“Ngaire” by The Mutton Birds — planning a wedding, half a world away

“The Macarena” by Los del Rio — coming home, and the ’96 Olympics in Atlanta

“The Lark in the Clear Air” (trad. Irish) — the song I sang at our wedding

“Darling Nikki” by Prince — working at the record store, the song we had to sprint the length of the floor to skip before he sang the word “masturbating”

“He Watching Over Israel” from Mendelssohn’s Elijah — staging the oratorio as an opera, with my fantastic college choir again

“Candle In The Wind” by Elton John — moving to Pennsylvania

“Tubthumping” by Chumbawumba — first semester of grad school

“The Trick Is To Keep Breathing” by Garbage — my fibromyalgia diagnosis, and the depression that followed

“Du Hast” by Rammstein — so very sick during my first pregnancy, but the baby loved this song, before and after birth

“The Night” by Morphine — the song playing while I was in labor with my first son

“Woke Up This Morning” by Alabama 3, from The Sopranos— that first long summer of motherhood

“Fix You” by Coldplay — my second son arrives

“American Idiot” by Green Day — mad, mad motherhood

“Business Time” by Flight of the Conchords — moving to Wisconsin, and gaming conventions

“What’s Left of the Flag” by Flogging Molly — life in Wisconsin among my Irish family

“I Will Follow You Into The Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie — teaching at Carroll and getting by

“We Used to Be Friends” by The Dandy Warhols, from Veronica Mars — moving to Minnesota, and depression I almost didn’t survive

“Bad Things” by Jace Everett, from True Blood — rediscovering joy

“Paparazzi” by Lady Gaga — the long, hard winter, and children old enough to start influencing their parents’ listening habits

“The Parting Glass” by The High Kings — a much better summer

“Firework” by Katy Perry — the Next Big Thing arrives for my Darling Husband

“I Still Believe” by Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls — back to school, and the best concert I can remember

Our first walk as Mr. and Mrs. Banks, 5 October 1996

Reverb Broads 2011, December 28 (my birthday!): Do you consider yourself a romantic person? Do you prefer fancy dinners, roses, and chocolate, or are you more non-traditional? What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for a loved one or had done for you? (courtesy of Kassie at http://bravelyobey.blogspot.com/)

Answering this question feels almost redundant; my whole life is an answer to this question. But I forget sometimes that not everyone knows my weird story, so here’s a quick recap: I made friends with a guy in New Zealand on the MUSH (real-time, text-based online roleplaying game) we both played on in the mid-’90s. We talked on the phone, sent silly packages, and slowly fell in love. We became “exclusive” at the beginning of my year in France, and on my birthday in 1995, he left his island for the first time in his life to fly to London and meet me in person. He had the engagement ring in his suitcase. He asked me in Aberdeen, Scotland on New Year’s Eve; I said yes, then made him talk through all the practical details before I would even open the ring box. We travelled together for three weeks, then he went home until I was back in the States that summer. He flew in to Florida, where I was staying with my parents before returning to Kansas for my last semester of undergrad, and we’ve been together ever since.

So, there are the answers to questions 1 and 3.

But even generally speaking, I’m a pretty unapologetic romantic. I love grand gestures, though I lean toward the non-traditional in what I appreciate. While I enjoy fancy dinners and flowers as much as the next girl, the efforts that speak to really knowing me well are the ones that really ring my bell. My husband bought me a Doctor Who charm bracelet on Etsy for Christmas this year, which was just perfect. And I wear Tresor perfume partly because I love it, and partly because he always says how much he loves the way it smells on me in particular.

I also adore surprises and pulling off ninja-level arrangements. When I went away to Welsh camp during the week of my husband’s birthday, I hid presents for him for each day, all around the house, and left him clues to open each day. I hid a barbeque grill behind the television stand; I put a video of our favorite MST3K episode in one of my kitchen cupboards. I had the poor man convinced I was sneaking home from Toronto every night to hide things that he was sure hadn’t been there the day before. Part of this is helped by his general obliviousness to detail (sorry, love, but you know it’s true: a side effect of being a storytelling genius is that you’re more aware of made-up things than the ones right in front of you), but part was sheer ninjatude on my part. One of my only regrets is that I don’t really have a surprise ninja for myself.

It’s so tricky finding romance in everyday life. A lot of the time, quite honestly, we use laughter and shared interests like methadone for the elusive heroin of romantic gestures. And I’ll be the first to say that, some days, I have exactly enough romance in my body to read about five pages of a smutty novel before I fall asleep–two-way romance takes way more energy than reading about somebody else’s romance. But when the astronomical odds of ever having found my perfect partner in the world give me vertigo to contemplate, it doesn’t take much to feel like there’s romance all around me. There’ll be time (and maybe money) for grand gestures when the kids grow up.

And they lived happily ever after...

Reverb Broads 2011, December 26: Write about the things you collect, include photos, tell why these items are cherished by you? (courtesy of Catie at http://catiecake.typepad.com/catiecake/) and December 27: What does your office/home/bedroom tell others about you? (courtesy of Kristen at http://kristendomblogs.com/)

I collect a lot more things than I consciously set out to collect, which is why my house says things about me I’d rather not said out loud. But there are a few things I do set out to collect. They tend to fall into one of four main categories: toys, craft supplies, pictures, and books.

I like all kinds of silly toys, but I’m a total geek, so my toys tend to reflect that. Naturally, I’ve got a lot of Star Wars, comics, and movie-inspired toys. I also really like toys of things that wouldn’t normally be toys; I have a stuffed Anubis (the Egyptian god of the dead), a purple Lucite Ganesh statue, and a wind-up walking nun. I prefer monsters and villains over heroes, for the most part, so I have toys of my favorites, like Maleficent (the evil fairy from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty–in fact, one of them is our tree topper at the moment) and Japanese movie monsters like Godzilla and Gamera. And of course, I’ve got quite a few Muppets.

I’m also quite the craft ninja, and I’ve got a big wardrobe full of supplies, plus several large plastic tubs full of fabric, yarn, cross-stitch projects, jewelry supplies, and anything that might be improved by the application of hot glue. Crafters know that creativity could break out when you least expect it, and you’ve got to be ready.

I can’t imagine leaving walls–or any decoratable surface, really–blank, so wherever I am tends to be a visual feast of photos, posters, art, and anything else I can get to stick to a vertical surface. I’m a huge fan of Art Nouveau icon Alphonse Mucha, and Art Nouveau blends well with my passion for Celtic designs. I also like art that contains visual jokes or is multi-referential. For instance, I’ve got a huge bus-stop poster from France that shows a painting of Saint Peter (painted in rich Italian Renaissance style, with even an ornate gilt frame on the edges of the poster) as he reaches for a round of Brie floating above him. The caption at the bottom reads, “Il n’y a rien au-dessus de President” (There’s Nothing Above President [Cheese]). The absurdity of the elaborate art and the sacrilegious slogan (quite remarkable to find in a nominally Catholic country) tickle my funny bone. And I’m a very sentimental person who likes to be surrounded by loved ones, so I have photos of family and friends everywhere.

Finally, I would like to have ALL THE BOOKS RIGHT NOW THANK YOU. My husband actually asked me whether I wanted a Kindle for my birthday this year, and he really didn’t know whether I would enjoy it. I had to answer honestly: no, I prefer books. I can’t inscribe or annotate a download; I can’t press a favorite PDF into a friend’s hand with passionate entreaties to share my new find. I’m terrible about getting rid of books, too; I’ve felt less attached to some of my cats than I am to some of my books. I’ve got some incredibly cool autographed volumes, and some lovely old books (though I don’t collect old books just because they’re old, despite what my family thinks), but all my books are like beloved children. Sure, it’s time to let some of them leave the nest; I’m tired of carting hundreds of pounds of things I’ll never read again from residence to residence. But I’m rarely happier than I am in a room filled with books, those I’ve read and loved, and those that sit like treasure chests waiting to be discovered.

My desk at work reflects all of these things, except the books, because when I’m at work I’m not supposed to be reading anything but emails and roleplaying games. I’ve got my adorable sons, Captain Jack Harkness, The Beatles (that’s the corner of a black-and-white poster at the top right) and Eric the vampire to keep me company, and The Endless watch over my work from atop my monitor. My boys’ artwork and a picture of Padme Amidala in the style of Mucha adorn my walls, and a host of other little friends crowd around my keyboard.

What does it say about me? It says I’m a geek, of course. It says I haven’t grown up. It says I love color and cute men. It says my bosses are very cool and patient with my quirkiness. It says I’m ready for the kids who are sometimes in the office. It says I’ve got a lot going on. What it doesn’t say–but it’s good to know–is that there are always snacks in my top left drawer. Lots of tasty snacks.

My desk at the Atlas Games offices