Recently, I had a chance to play Wizkids’ game Tales of the Arthurian Knights (TOAK) with some friends. For those familiar with The Tales of the Arabian Nights, TOAK will feel very familiar. If you enjoyed Arabian Nights, TOAK will take that same mechanic to the next level of intense fun.

In the game, each player takes the role of one of King Arthur’s knights of the Round Table, and you start with a quest to go on and three skills of your choosing. As you wander around the British Isles, you encounter people and they ask you to make choices. Those choices affect your renown, your gaining of extra skills, and the amount of points you end up with at the end, which determines who wins.

The mechanic in TOAK is basically the same as the older game, but with a much smoother, easier to follow, and more interesting execution. The building of a narrative through movement, encounters, quests, and so on is much smoother and skills used in encounters actually make sense while having a marked impact on your future results in the game. There is a decent amount of strategy which players can employ, with enough left to completely blind side you. I was planning to be a villain of great renown, but ended up with a massive romance renown boost after offing a Queen Morgan’s husband. There is a dice-rolling component, which adds that random, luck-based uncertainty.

The components of the game are excellent quality. The primary part, beyond the large board itself, is the Book of Tales from which the story is read by players in turn. You read for the player on your right. The tokens and the cards are robustly made, though I would recommend sleeving the cards for longevity. I am a card-sleeving fanatic, it has to be said. Setting up is intense, as there are a lot of different parts to the game, so a storage system like Folded Space would be recommended if you can get one. My friends’ son designed and 3D printed card boxes, character boxes, and so on, and that made set up much easier. It made a huge difference to the game.

Although I like them, I am not a massive fan of fantasy, and less so of Arthurian stories, but I loved TOAK. For anyone who enjoys reading about King Arthur or similar and has an interest in those romances from medieval times, this game will be right up your alley. It even has a solo play option for those times when your friends have just had enough of roaming the British Isles and talking to the Fae. It is just a fun, story-building game with a good amount of strategy to get you thinking about what you want to achieve. The balance TOAK strikes is as close to perfect as you can get.

If there is one thing I missed from Arabian Knights in TOAK it is only the sense of insanity that Arabian Knights had which I absolutely loved. Being asked if I had the Swimming Skill in the middle of a vast desert which had not seen rain since the Creation was bonkers. But given that, TOAK has a superior, smoother sequence of play and function that makes sense.

Hands down, this is an awesome game, and I absolutely recommend it to any unplugged game players out there.

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I am not naturally an introspective soul. I was born in the wrong generation, to the wrong family, and in the wrong culture. Perhaps I was born in the right ones, but for an introspective bent, I definitely missed the memo. Yet, here I am, finding myself glitching a bit, so I thought I would write about it, instead of weaving my way down the usual destructive path of deleting all my accounts and withdrawing from everything, only to return days later feeling marginally better about myself. For those in the same boat as me, I hope you know at the end of this, you are not alone. Why the Kombi? I will explain that one in a bit.

One of the hardest things I battle against in this writing adventure are the voices in my head. They are often loud, and the advice you can often find in memes like the one below is not a good path to follow. Doing what they say is what I usually do, and I end up having to rebuild everything, re-open my Substack, and more, all while generally inconveniencing everyone who actually reads my stuff. All 3 of you.

Those voices in my head also have a lot to say about what I say, or rather, do not have to say. I often find it hard to even start writing something, because I want to write something meaningful, but yet do not consider anything I have to say worth putting to paper or screen. Much less spending hours and hours actually doing so, and then naively expecting someone to find significance where I simply do not. If I cannot see much value in the words I pen, how can someone else be expected to do just that? So, these voices which second guess what I am thinking and writing usually win out. This is why I do not write anywhere near the amount I should, if I am to call myself a “writer.”

The second challenge is what my daughter is utterly convinced is “undiagnosed ADHD.” I am at the older end of Generation X, so for me it is more like “diagnosed just get the hell over it and get on with life.” The problem with the approach I am accustomed to is I really have trouble finishing stuff. That is why I read anything up to seven books at the same time, and it takes me months and months to get even a short story finished. I start well, all enthusiasm and ebullient joy, and then it all fizzles out like a dud firecracker. I move onto a new project, which was probably germinated by a random song I heard on Ampwall or Bandcamp. I am, if nothing else, the King of the Unfinished Project. And don’t get my wife started on my Warhammer 40K hobby! After around 15 years, I am still to live that one down!

At the end of the day, I find this situation, and the feelings that go with it, endlessly frustrating. I am just surprised I have kept the same pseudonym for such a long time. The heavy, gut-level weight I carry around a lot is wearing a bit thin, and it is not something I have found an easy answer to. As a person of faith in Jesus Christ, of course, I have prayed about it. A lot, actually. But, in His wisdom, God has chosen to act through people more than He does directly, it seems. The frustration remains, and the impending, looming sense of uselessness remains a shadow wrapping its chilled outline around me.

Writing, and I am not talking about marketing stuff or getting your books out there, but just the act of writing stuff, is a hard slog. When someone compared it to a marathon, of which I have run three in my life, they really got it wrong. Marathons are much easier. At the end of twenty-six miles (forty-two kilometres), you are just exhausted. Even the voices are too stuffed to bother you about anything. Writing something is harder, in my humble opinion. No amount of chugging back isotonic drinks and energy pouches is going to make the words come any easier or make you feel better about them. No matter what shoes you have on, the same slog is the same slog. It is a cliff up which you need to run.

The lesson learned, I think, is I need to be like that VW Kombi in the picture above. That car has seen some hard times, been through some real crap, and it is still kicking. It might be considered ugly, but I think it is a more beautiful machine for the dents, missing lights, stickers, scratches, and worn out paint work. Each flaw speaks to the experiences the Kombi has had, and the perseverance with which it has weathered the storms and trials. The Kombi, I could almost imagine, is sitting there giving the world a middle finger and a quiet “f*** you.”

Part of my middle finger to the world and to the horror show that is marketing for me, (I would rather a zombie with broken teeth gnaw off my nether regions), I have decided to mess about the #AlternativeFacts idea. I was inspired by some writers lying about the number of countries or states (in the USA) their books were banned in, so that people would be more interested in buying the books and so boost sales. I thought it was a cool idea to do the same, but make some truly ridiculous claims, which any thinking person would know were nothing more than BS. This example, which you are seeing before anyone else, is the least offensive of them, I think. I am sure to go ever more deeper down the rabit hole of my own darkness on this. Sometimes, you just have to find the fun and start playing about. If for no other reason than to preserve your own sanity.

Authors, if you are feeling the grind, know you are not alone. If you like, reach out, and lets share some. Leave a comment or whatever. If you’ve read this far, I truly need to thank you for enduring the ramblings of an old fossil who makes most of Gen-X look like tweens.

Hang in there. Kia kaha, e hoa mā!

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SPOILER ALERTS

This review has some spoiler alerts about the end of the main character. If you want to read Amalgamation before the end gets talked about here, do that now. And brace yourself!

I had blessedly forgotten I had read ’s short story Amalgamation. And then someone had to remind me. Then I remembered how much I enjoyed the squirmy feeling my first aptly-named “squelchcore” story sent my way. Amalgamation is the only story I have seen where the author challenges you to finish it. When a write like Drew issues such a challenge, it should give you pause for thought. A really long pause. Indefinite, I would say.

Let us assume you paused and decided to plunge in.

First, there are a lot of trigger warnings, and Drew is not joking about these. Heed them.

The first thing I really dug about the story is the main character: a below-average joe, and far from the saintly type. Drew Valdez colours this guy in with a detailed eye for the objectionable, to the point where I was sure I had met Alex’s twin brother in high school. Alex really is a piece of crap, which makes this story even more satisfying, even if disturbingly gross.

Drew Valdez has a gift for picking the right words to grab the emotion he is aiming for and yanking it as hard as he can. The scenes are described in gloriously decayed and foetid detail. “Wet plop,” the latter of which I do not recall reading in any other work, is an example the skin-moving quality of Valdez’s writing.

Amalgamation is almost a lesson in divine (or infernal) justice and the idea of reaping what you sow. The overall message of getting what’s coming to you is made all the more memorable through the viscerally challenging story of a douche-bag’s visit to his grandparents’ home.

MEAT SANDWICH

Amalgamation

Trigger Warning: Please note this story contains subject matter which may be upsetting to some readers. Subjects include, but are not limited to, blood, gore, sexual violence, and visceral descriptions of violence. This story was made with the sole intention of making…

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10 months ago · 33 likes · 64 comments · Drew Valdez

If you are up to it, Drew Valdez has woven a story that is pure squeamishness, and he set out to do just that. I would say he has more than achieved his stated aim, and even excelled it by lightyears.

Give Amalgamation a try. If your stomach is up to it.

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J. Michael Thomas - Author

First Contact (part 1)

This wasn’t one of those blurry UFO pictures where you can almost see the string it’s hanging from. This was live-streaming, clear as day, on all the major news o…

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4 months ago · 53 likes · 28 comments · J. Michael Thomas

The theme of first contact has been covered in a lot of different ways before, from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, perhaps the most monotonous science fiction film ever made and one which I would prefer to avoid seeing again by having all of my teeth extracted by a baboon with pliers and a chisel, to the television series V. In First Contact, Thomas approaches alien visitation from a different angle I have not seen done before.

When an alien space ship arrives, to much ado on Earth, people are a little more than floored when the aliens emerge to reveal they are as human as us. What ensues is the pursuit of a lot of different agendas by the natives as the new arrivals try to figure out what the hell happened to their planet. As I have only read to chapter 9, I am still waiting for that answer.

The pace in First Contact is fast. Thomas keeps you moving with hardly any breathing space, which is good. The pace rips through and you catch a lot of the urgency the characters are feeling in their individual experiences of the story’s plot. The pace, however, does not take away from the character development, but rather merges with it. Before you know it, the complexity of some of the characters has simply leeched into your awareness without a big deal being made about it.

Keeping you moving through the story is the eternal presence of mysteries and questions. These questions are teased and hinted at, but the final solutions to them are left until later. There are enough hints and suggestions to keep you wanting more, though. What has happened to the people whom the new arrivals were expecting to find? And are the druids who meet at Stonehenge involved with any of this?1

First Contact has been a great read, and one that has managed to hook me in quick and keep me caught up in the story. For science fiction that is not too hard on the brain and keeps you filled with mystery and wonder, J. Michael Thomas’ story is hard to pass up. I definitely look forward to the rest of the story!

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What is this “gothic horror” of which you speak? That was the first question I had when I came across A.M. Blackmere’s substack. I was basically hooked when I read “medieval” and so on, and knew I had to get The Necessary Mercy read. This is a small book, weighing in at just eighty-five pages, but in that space, the book packs a psychological wallop well above its weight class.

The tale is set in the medieval town of Virelais in 1348, just in the midst of the dreaded Black Plague, which would wipe out a vast chunk of Europe’s population. Sir Alard Veyne, a knight, arrives just in time for the town’s Council to take some drastic measures to protect the people from the plague ravaging whole countries beyond its walls.

The first thing to be said about this book is to the modern reader. Do not rush this. Like J.R.R. Tolkien and Frank Herbert, Blackmere writes with a careful deliberateness which deserves and requires a careful reading from the reader. Each word is careful chosen to maximise the interaction between the reader and the characters’ psychological states. The descriptions are almost brakes on the urges to rush through and miss essential pieces that really are the building blocks of the horrific dread saturating every page.

Nowhere is this care more apparent than in Blackmere’s use of metaphor and simile, which are both immersed in the time period and help bring the reader into the streets of Virelais through the eyes of Sir Veyne. There was only moment where a simile felt a little anachronistic to me, but I no longer recall what it was or where it was. It is of no import, and The Necessary Mercy loses none of its impact.

From the point of view of a devout Christian, I found the priest an interesting character. He came off as a reluctant pawn of the state, through fear of his own for his own well-being. Even when the Council makes some terrible decisions, it is not the priest who intervenes, but the local medicine woman, Elia. The coercing of religion to legitimise a rule or governing body is something which goes on this day, and this interplay gives The Necessary Mercy a certain critical lens through which it speaks to these very modern concerns. And Blackmere does this with gentle force, without sinking into the all-too-common crassness of other authors who employ grossly exaggerated tropes to make their points. Blackmere is gentle in this respect, but this very factor gives all the more strength to the point being made.

The Necessary Mercy is masterfully written and it is a wonderful introduction to darkly gothic horror in a medieval setting for those who wish to dip their toes into the genre. I read this book in two sittings, and relished every last word.

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