Parent Gamer

The building is behind a strip mall, around the corner. Its barely maintained parking lot is filled with cars. The structure is an ugly tan with a blue overhang where the businesses' name once proudly hung. Now a cloth sign simply reads Vaccine Clinic: appointment only, tied in place by rope. The interior is what remains of an abandoned retail location. The floors are a grimy, speckled tile, chipped and scuffed. The walls were once painted yellow and dirty white peg board used to promote the various wares this store sold. The ceiling is dirty metal beams and florescent lights. In one corner, banners from the now defunct businesses still hang: "RZONE." With a stylized O. The back half of the building is hidden behind hastily installed curtains. Instead of shelves are rows upon rows of tables or single plastic folding chairs, each one spaced out from the next. At the tables sit men and women in camouflage uniforms or dark scrubs. In the chairs sit the disparate people, mos

     As I spend time playing and writing adventures for D&D, I occasionally come up with characters, settings, or ideas that just stick in my head. A while back I wrote a short about a man cursed with immense power.        I've now re-written those few pages again and again trying to make that story perfect. Which, of course, is why I've started this writing blog. I need to stop trying to write the perfect story and just write!      To this effect, I took one of those character ideas that was stuck in my head and I wrote another short story, set in the same world as that first one. I liked it so much I rewrote it and actually went through the draft, looking for typos, grammar, etc... I now want to continue that tale but my Roommate  slowed me down, as always.      Until I can continue this tale, I invite you to partake in this first glimpse at Mr. Barroway. And as always, I am looking for criticism, responses, and advice. Enjoy!                 Ragnor Barroway wa

                I’ve been dipping my toes back into writing again; reusing the blog I had created years ago. Originally it was going to be a place where I could write honest reviews for the parents of video game players. I worked in a video game store and I was frustrated with the level of awareness many parents displayed toward what their kids were putting so much time into.                 8 year olds were standing in line to get the Grand Theft Auto or Call of Duty. Their mothers and fathers would pay, oblivious to what media their child was going to be consuming. I wrote a few reviews, mixed kind and scathing. I offered the website to a number of customers before learning that most of them had little interest in doing the research. They had decided this was not a battle they wanted to fight and would buy whatever game their son or daughter wanted. (If you are interested in learning about the games your kids are playing I suggest visiting ESRB.org )                 Dis

                There is a monster that lives in my house. A truly terrible beast. This awful create moved in one day when I wasn’t paying attention and now I cannot force it to leave. So long has this thing been in my life that I’ve forgotten what it is to be without.                 I find that I am compelled to document my cohabitation with this creature in the hopes that others might learn from my experience.                 To begin however, I must avoid the beast. Any direct contact confounds my attempts at study; any attention halts me in my tracks as I try to write what I’ve observed. Just yesterday, I sat down after an entire morning of observing this monster only to find it had found me in the afternoon and I was unable to document my findings.                 It is exceedingly strong. I find that only direct, aggressive action can dissuade it from interference. Sometimes, I triumph in this battle and can go about my day. Other days my struggle is great, so though I

                The princess woke to a beautiful morning. Sunlight snuck into her royal chambers from behind her vibrant drapes and gave her room a dark, dreamy look. She pulled her plush blankets away and sat up in her bed. The room around her was as she had left it the night before, her books scattered about her favorite reading chair.                 The princess yawned, stretched, and decided she was ready to begin the day. She activated her electronic call device and quickly her morning staff bustled into the room. The princess graced her staff with a small smile and watched as they began their duties.                 The drapes were thrown open, revealing a beautiful sunny day. Clothes were displayed and chosen, royal purple of course. The room was partially picked up, the princess watched disdainfully as the staff stuffed her precious books back onto the shelves. The princess allowed her staff to pamper and dress her and then allowed her staff to bring her down to the kitch

                “A writer writes. Always.”                 I’ve heard these words hundreds, if not thousands, of times in my life. I’ve always thought of myself as a creative person. I’ve enjoyed photography, tried my hand at drawing, I currently enjoy painting miniatures for D&D, but I’ve always thought myself a writer.                 However, a writer writes. And I have not been. As such I’ve decided to try to correct this problem. Instead of writing that book I’ve been talking about for years, I’ve decided to start at the beginning. By writing. Always.                 So I invite you to join me on my journey of discipline, practice, and procrastination. I aim to write something every week: A short story, a D&D adventure, or maybe just general musings about fatherhood, video games, life, or writing in general.                 I invite you to come along with me, offer prompts, advice, and criticism, and most importantly of all, you will provide me with accountabili