Oh, here’s something from a long time ago: TTRPG writing I did about 25 years ago, from White Wolf’s Hunter: the Reckoning. It’s been so long since I wrote fiction and game advice /rules that I’d pretty much forgotten I wasn’t bad at it.

A book page with English text and subtle illustrations in the margins.

I’m not saying that my girls have a “losing things” problem - but this is what the Guides camp leaders have called the lost property bucket:

A blue plastic tub labeled The Tinworth Tub is placed on a textured concrete surface near a wooden fence.

Having a strangely quiet morning, because both the girls are off at camp.

I miss them.

Stolen moment

A long, light-filled dining room with wooden floors, featuring a central communal table with brown chairs on either side. Large multi-pane windows line the left wall, letting in natural light. At the far end, three tall arched stained glass windows with floral and bird motifs provide a decorative focal point. The right wall has a brick fireplace with an ornate white surround, framed artwork, and painted white brick walls with stone pilasters. Additional smaller tables and chairs are arranged along the right side of the room.

For those of you wondering how I’m getting on post-accident, I wrote an update yesterday. It’s… a mixed picture.

Interested in interactive theatre and storytelling? Here’s why you should go to Voidspace Live next month.

Charles Arthur on UK plans to power data centres by burning natural gas, making climate change worse:

It feels like we just about got past bitcoin and all the other proof-of-work cryptocoins, and saw the threat they posed to our electricity mix ameliorated, and now we have this – far worse, and with the eager approval of governments which think buildings full of computers are a brilliant job creation scheme. How can people be this daft?

Found my author copies from my days freelancing for White Wolf Game Studio.

A cardboard box contains various hardcover role-playing game books, including one with the title Werewolf: The Apocalypse.

Cooking birthday breakfast pancakes for our newly 11 year old daughter.

A plate of freshly cooked pancakes rests on paper towels beside a pan and a small ramekin.

This is how I’m looking three weeks after the accident. I still can’t routinely wear my contact lenses - the left eye needs to heal more first.

Close-up selfie of a man with short grey hair, black rectangular glasses, and two long stitched cuts on his forehead, one covered partly by a small dressing.