I’m Alex Wiltshire. I’m a writer and editor in the world of games. I work at Mojang Studios on storytelling for Minecraft, am the author of books including Britsoft: An Oral History, Making Videogames, Home Computers and Minecraft Blockopedia, and am a former editor of Edge magazine.
Recently I ran a session of the tabletop RPG Trophy Gold for my gaming group, and because one of us had already read all the introductory adventures, I decided to make my own one, called The Everbarrow. And since it seemed to go pretty OK, I thought I’d make it public here.
The apples from our front tree have been amazing this year. They’re juicy, tangy and sweet. Terrifyingly, and yet gratifyingly, there are hardly any worms in them. And there are lots, and we’ve managed to pick the good ones before they fell, and most are now sitting in the cool darkness of the bottom of our fridge.
Meanwhile, our back tree has hardly borne any apples. Usually it’s prolific (though they aren’t that good). Weird!
A new edition of Japansoft: An Oral History is out, available in a limited slipcase edition of 500 signed copies and a paperback!
I edited this book of interviews with members of the early generation of Japanese game developers a few years ago, and now it’s returning in a new slipcase edition, complete with a new preface chapter.
It was great to get the call that the book was to be revived, and I was even happier to get a chance to add the preface. The original’s introduction set out the historical context in which the first Japanese game developers began to work, but it lacked a more reader-focused context that addressed the question: why are Japanese games important? And what makes them special?
The product was terrible, but the game was solid. The rough edges were actually charming. The community was young and welcoming. It was fresh. It was fun.
Importantly, it kept evolving and improving every few weeks. Issues were fixed quickly. Improvements and features were added frequently. There was an incredible velocity of evolution happening before our eyes, at just the right time for just the right audience.
I realize many Brits are sort of mortified by their own country (as many readily admitted to me), and I get it (hey, I’m technically American), but most (all?) first-world countries today are well-beyond the lily-white. I don’t know what I’m doing. The world burns and I try not to throw out the walking babies with all the frustrating, seemingly-intractable political bathwater. This is special stuff: the rights-of-way, the walking culture, the barren fells, the pentimento walking history of England. No, it ain’t perfect, but if you find yourself in a position to traipse along the dun tones of Wainwright’s Coast to Coast, I say go for it.
Today I played the excellent Warhammer 40,000 squad skirmish game Kill Team for the first time in forever. Naturally, my Khorne Legionaries lost against my son’s Ork Commandos, but they did so very bloodily by taking out all but two of his 10 operatives (skulls, throne, etc) and my plasma gunner scored the game’s first kill with a roll of four sixes.
Setting up the team made me revisit BattleScribe as I tried to shortcut creating a legal team, and that led me right back to my old Kill Team CSS for BattleScribe, which I made years ago to make nice-looking army and team rosters. And I ended up updating it to the style of the latest edition, with revised fonts and some other tweaks. You just have to.
I’ve been GMing Warhammer Fantasy Role Play for my games group. It’s a venerable tabletop RPG similar to Dungeons & Dragons but grittier, weirder, funnier and has more of a focus on role-play. Though set in the Germanic realm of the Reikland, it feels awfully British. Social class informs many interactions; there are 60+ jobs that act as its character classes, from rat catcher and grave digger to flagellant and huffer to charlatan and bawd; there’s a whole skill devoted to consuming alcohol.
We’re playing the legendary scenario A Rough Night at the Three Feathers (originally written in 1987), in which the players go to the pub and a lot of complicated scheduled-by-the-minute stuff happens around them. So far, Marsh has been robbed for every penny and Oli failed to catch the thief. Jim poisoned a surprised scholar and then he and Oli nursed him back to health. And Dan listened to a couple rutting in their room. I’m really looking forward to concluding the night on Monday.
Way back, probably in 2003 or 2004, when I worked on the design magazine Icon, I interviewed Shin and Tomoko Azumi, leading designers of stools, chairs and homeware. I don’t remember much about it, beyond liking their elegant and minimal but expressive work and the ride along the North London Line to get to their home and studio. So when I stumbled on the article after restoring it to this website, along with a bunch of other ancient posts that had been locked away in a Wordpress backup, I noticed something that I’d entirely forgotten:
After their BA courses, Tomoko worked at architectural practices and Shin worked in the electronic giant NEC’s personal computer department where he designed the casing for the PC Engine Duo, the first CD-rom based videogame console.