MISCELLANEOUS MUSINGS . . .
Seriously though . . . What’s my motivation?
“Caesar decided on an immediate attack, and marched out under cover of darkness with forty cohorts and 1,700 cavalry.” This line is found almost 20 pages into Chapter XIII - ‘Over the Waters’: The British and German Expeditions, 55-54 BC, and exactly 288 pages into Caesar: Life of a Colossus, the well-written and well-reviewed 2006 book by Professor Adrian Goldsworthy. This sentence is the first of a rather substantial paragraph, one that provides fertile ground for the ancient wargamer interested in attempting to recreate the described historical action or actions, or for that same individual or maybe a group of enthusiasts to develop a scenario or two or even three based on this narrative. The details regarding the Roman force make it possible to wargame the engagement using a variety of rulesets and scales of figures or other kinds of representative models. The night march by the Romans presents an area of interest and possibilities, as night marches do not usually feature in friendly or, for that matter, competitive tabletop wargaming. The description of the terrain for this ancient battlefield seems quite reproducible, and the inclusion of a “walled enclosure” or hill fort adds a terrain feature rarely seen in tabletop battles of the ancient period. The attack by the Seventh Legion also appears easy enough to replicate, though one might need to draft scenario rules to cover the construction of an improvised ramp while assaulting an enemy defending such a position. Additionally, it seems logical or reasonable enough to draft a scenario rule or two regarding the possible effect(s) the lack of sleep would have on the cohorts and cavalry. As I reread and continued to annotate the paragraph, it occurred to me that this historical encounter (there is no official battlefield name for it as far as I am aware) might make for an interesting project. The research, preparation, and play of the scenario or scenarios might also make for a decent or perhaps very good blog post.
On the third or fourth reading, additional marks were made in the margins while mentally reviewing what rulebooks might be best for this idea. At the same time, I wondered about the relationship between my solo wargaming activities or projects and my toddler of blog. (I use that parental/pediatric term as my blog is all of three years old.) I started to think about the comparatively short history of how I arrived at this particular point, where my solo wargaming efforts were apparently tied to or dependent upon the production of blog posts. Phrased more succinctly, I wondered if or indeed why the blog was starting to if not already was more important than my solo wargaming. When and why did the two evidently become so completely integrated? What would happen if I researched, prepared, and played a scenario or contemplated and completed some other project but did not post about it? Would there be something missing? Would the solo wargame or other project be more enjoyable because it was free from the perceived as well as ironic “must produce content” pressure? Would the much larger wargaming world be a little less colorful and interesting without a post about my latest solo wargame or related project? One the other hand, given the hundreds if not thousands of wargaming blogs and YouTube channels dedicated to wargaming in all its varieties, not to mention the coverage on other social media platforms, what does one more “grain of sand” or “drop of water” matter? On further review, I wonder if this is simply a case or example of overthinking something, of taking something too seriously? After all, it is just - or should I type simply - a hobby.
A ‘Decline and Fall’ or something else?
The theme of the August 2013 issue of WARGAMES illustrated® [Number 310] was Attila, his Huns, and their confirmed as well as much studied place in history. Five engaging articles were provided to interested readers on the capable horsemen led by “the scourge of God,” with specific coverage being offered of the Tenth Annual Society of Ancients Battle Day. While I have not done exhaustive research regarding this point and the following claim has not been vetted by a recognized agency, I believe that the 2013 Battle Day event, wherein Chalons was recreated on a number of tabletops with player-generals employing a number of rulesets, has been the only instance of a major hobby publication joining forces with The Society of Ancients. Anyway, in this August 2013 issue, Neil Smith provided a recap of the day, event, and proceedings in a three-page article titled “The Day of the Huns.” In a sidebar on page 85, Neil reported on the establishment of The Society in 1965, and then informed that its membership has grown “to between 1,000 and 1,200 since.” Further details were provided, such as The Society being a non-profit, the website address where interested individuals could find out more, and the broad sweep of history/time covered by The Society.
Now then, if I take the larger number given for membership as of 2013 and divide this by the number of years The Society had been in existence to that point, I arrive at a figure of 25. To be certain, I am no mathematician, and certainly have no training in statistics or the analysis of same. To be sure, I am not arguing that there was a steady and constant increase of membership from 1965 to 2013. Logging onto The Society of Ancients Forums in the early morning of 05 June 2024, I looked at the stats. Currently and evidently, there are 777 members. If I subtract this figure from the previously provided number of 1,200, the remainder is 423. Accepting this answer, and dividing it by the number of years since 2013, it appears (italics for emphasis) that every 12 months, about 32 members, for one reason or another, decide to stop or suspend their membership to The Society. Again, citing my lack of advanced training in math and statistics, even if 25 new members were to join each year, it seems that the overall loss rate would still be a positive 7. (Or should that be a negative 7? See what I mean? I am not very proficient with math or maths.) In other words and based on this limited analysis, The Society is shrinking, not growing. If one subscribes to the idea or philosophy that “all things have a shelf life,” then it seems that The Society is experiencing or has experienced something of a decline and will, as all things eventually do, cease to exist. Understanding that it is a non-profit, that it is run by volunteers, and that the content of the six annual issues of Slingshot is completely dependent on the efforts, talents and spare time of members who draft, edit, and then submit pieces to the current person occupying the editor’s (curule) chair, what kind of viability might one be looking at over the next 10, 25, or even 50 years? Applying my “calculations” (quotes intentional), an average loss of 7 members a year translates into 175 fewer members by the year 2050. Will enough new members be convinced to join so as to cancel out those “casualties”? Will the total membership of The Society ever climb back to or surpass its reported 2013 level?
As I reviewed the numbers for members, topics, and posts, I noted that there were 80 guest users. I wondered how accurate, constant, or relevant this information was? What percentage of guest users make the transition to subscribing members? What percentage of guest users who make that transition become contributing writers to Slingshot? For that matter, what percentage of current members are drafting, editing and submitting content for future issues of Slingshot? If just 15 percent of the 777 current members took the time to write/type several pages - whether a book review, figure review, battle report, of some kind of period piece (there are thousands of years from which to choose), my admittedly poor math skills suggest that 116 individuals could produce about 466 pages of material. Dividing this by the number of months in a year results in almost 39 pages, which would, hypothetically, provide 78 pages worth of items for consideration and review by the editor for each issue. While I have not done a separate and exhaustive analysis or survey of the last 18 issues of Slingshot and recorded how many different authors there have been and how many pieces each writer submitted (perhaps 30 issues is a better sample size), I do wonder about the balance - for lack of a better word - with regard to content, writers, and active versus passive membership. I wonder too, if this second musing might fall into the “boy crying wolf” or “the sky is falling” category. The Society of Ancients has been around since 1965. It has, obviously, a fascinating history as well as a dedicated, albeit small in number, membership. However, that dedicated membership is not immortal. I see that Issue 351 of Slingshot (March/April 2024) has recently arrived in the hands of subscribers. At some point in the year 2031 then, members and casual readers can expect to find Issue 400 in their mail or perhaps for sale at some kind of specialty shop. A lot can happen in seven years. Indeed, a lot can happen in one year, in one month, or even and unsurprisingly in a single day. No one can know for certain what the future holds. (Death and taxes being the two most often cited exceptions, of course.) Educated guesses may be ventured, though, and predictions can be made if one takes the time to sort and sift through a sufficient amount of information.
Who’s in command here?!
In the middle of May, I happened upon a conversation (maybe debate is a better word) taking place on the Ancients Discussion Board of TMP. The originating post was about “activation” or the modeling of “activation” in several sets of rules (apparently - the titles purchased were not identified by the initiating member), and then transitioned into a history lesson (of a sorts) as well as a general complaint or lamentation. As a former member of TMP (a kind of austerity program had to be adopted by this household, so “luxury items” were excised from the operating budget), I found the debate (of limited popularity; it ran for approximately two, maybe three weeks) of some interest. To be perfectly candid, I also found the back and forth a little tiring. It reminded me, to some extent, of the current political situation in a certain country - ahem, where the two major parties are apparently and unfortunately completely and ideologically deaf to the more reasonable and sensible positions advocated by the other. The concerns of their constituents seem lost or are just ignored in this power struggle. Anyway, the conversation or again, debate, also reminded me of driving past an accident on the highway. It causes you to slow down; it also causes you to take notice, express or feel sympathy and perhaps reflect on other things, and then the accident, flashing lights, and etc., are in the rearview mirror and your normal drive resumes. Anyway, within an hour after stumbling upon this debate or “traffic accident,” to continue my own analogy, I posted a link to it on a rather more specialized (I hesitate to type “elite”) discussion thread on The Society of Ancients website. Almost immediately, I was subpoenaed to testify regarding my position. What did I think and why? What camp or faction did I support? Fortunately, my unrehearsed and somewhat mumbled response did not draw much attention. At the risk of generalizing, one long-standing and respected member of The Society offered this commentary: “Interesting but nothing we haven’t discussed here many times before. The OP in this case seems to struggle with the idea of abstraction and “design for effect” and obviously hasn’t been in the “gamey v. realistic” debates we’ve enjoyed here.”
At the risk of “beating a dead horse, “trying to squeeze more blood from a turnip,” or possibly wasting my time as well as the much more valuable time of the reader, I took another look at the discussion/debate held over on TMP.
Speaking only for myself, I would have found it helpful to know which rules this gentleman (his TMP identity was ‘The Trojan’) had purchased. A list of 10 or 12 of the “countless YouTube videos” that he watched would have been beneficial as well. Having recently played a solo wargame wherein Indians faced off against Seleucids, I would venture that one of these rulesets was Simon Miller’s To The Strongest! (Unit activation is a key part of these popular rules.) I would imagine that a few of these “countless videos” were tutorials about this same set. In an attempt to summarize this gentleman’s findings or concerns, I offer the following questions pulled from his various ‘talking points’: 1) What is “activation” supposed to be modeling? 2) How many times were orders delayed, went missing or were misunderstood? 2a) How many orders were issued during an ancients battle? 3) What exactly is or was command and control on the ancient battlefield?
In this section, I make no concerted attempt to address these several questions, though I do think there is merit to be found in thinking about them and discussing them in a civil manner and with an open mind. I owe a debt of gratitude to ‘The Trojan’ for inspiring me to reflect on how I have considered the issue(s) of command and control or of activation in my comparatively long history of ancient wargaming. In a similar vein, I owe a debt of gratitude to the “quite firm in his position” gentleman for making me reach, again, for Professor Goldsworthy’s excellent book, The Roman Army at War 100BC—AD 200. I was also curious enough and interested enough to look for additional information or coverage in old issues of Slingshot. I found what I was looking for in Richard Taylor’s “War, Games and Wargames: Part 2,” which was published in the March/April 2013 issue.
Attending to Chapter 4. The General’s Battle of my rather worn and dog-eared copy of The Roman Army, I noted on pages 132-133 an explanation of how a consilium worked, how orders may have been communicated and what information those orders may have contained. Admittedly, this historical information pertains only to the Roman military system within a limited time period, but I think one would not be hugely mistaken to suggest that similar practices (to one degree or another) might have been followed in other armies. On page 150, I reread this description about where a commander or general might place himself before and during a battle. Professor Goldsworthy summarizes:
Essentially, he had three options. First, he could find a point in the rear to
observe the whole battle, directing his reserves as required. Second, he could
fight in the front rank, inspiring his army by sharing the same risks as an
ordinary soldier. Finally, he could stay close to, but behind the line, directing the
fighting from this position and moving around the battlefield.
It seems unnecessary to comment that, as historical wargamers with a great interest in the ancient and or medieval periods, we assume or play these various roles throughout the course of a tabletop battle. If we do “fight in the front rank,” we possibly suffer no greater injury than wounded pride. Given the small scale of miniatures used (even if they are 54mm figures), player-generals also have a commanding or unobstructed view of the model battlefield, seeing their own formations as well as those of the enemy. So a fourth option for position might well be above the battlefield. [Sidebar: The mention of reserves in the quoted material is interesting I think, as it is a rather rare occasion to find/see reserves on an ancients-oriented tabletop. Anyway, I digress.]
Turning my focus on questions or items 2 and 2a, I wonder if these are even answerable. That is, I wonder if there is an exact figure that can be determined and then supplied to ‘The Trojan’ and others with similar interests in ancient military history that would be satisfactory. At the risk of answering a question with a question: How many instances of “delay, disappearance or misunderstanding” would qualify as significant and therefore, merit representation, in some format or manner, in a tabletop contest? Looking back through the well-worn pages of Chapter 4, I found an excerpt describing the eagerness of Caesar’s men at Thapsus, where “a trumpeter on the right was pressured by troops to sound the charge.” It seems reasonable to qualify this as a “misunderstanding” if not perhaps even “the disobeying of orders.” Evidently and justifiably so, Caesar was not amused. In a very good work of historical fiction and in another Goldsworthy text, I recall reading a description of command and control issues at Gergovia (52 BC). Would this additional evidence make a difference to, an impact upon ‘The Trojan’s’ thinking?
On the general topic of command and control (no pun intended), after reading the various posts on TMP as well as those on The Society’s thread, I recalled the speeches attributed to the opposing commanders at Raphia, Mons Graupius, and Maldon. I wondered how or even if these pre-battle orations were incorporated into rulebooks. Then again, I wondered if this level of detail or role-playing was necessary. Staying with this general topic for another minute or so, a review of the ‘Command and Control’ section of Richard’s thoughtful and well-written Part 2 reinforces the aforementioned remark - “it’s been discussed many times before” - taken from The Society of Ancients forum. So stipulated. However, I think it might be worthwhile to quote a question asked by Richard. On the righthand column of page 42 in that March/April 2013 issue, he explains and inquires:
What type of C&C rules are adopted in part depends on the objective of the
particular rule set: is the aim to make a battlefield model, with the player as the
controller and administrator of the model, or is it to provide a command
experience, putting the player in the shoes (or sandals) of the general?
Again, speaking only for myself and as a long-standing (or usually sitting) solo wargamer, I have assumed all of these identified roles. I have been controller and administrator. I have also enjoyed something akin to a command experience. In fact, as a solo wargamer, this experience is doubled for each scenario or historical refight that is staged. The “command experience” is multiplied, obviously, if there are sub-generals and other subordinate leaders on the tabletop.
After typing a little more than 900 words on this particular topic (now dormant on both TMP and The Society’s discussion thread, as these things do tend to have a short life-span), I am wondering what might make ‘The Trojan’ happier with regard to ancients rulesets and ancient wargaming overall. It is, I think, always easier to find fault or point out problems. It is more challenging to identify and acknowledge the good, the positive. At the risk of referencing and then adapting a line from an episode of the very good (in my opinion) Apple TV series “Ted Lasso,” I wonder if ‘The Trojan’ might benefit from “being more curious instead of simply being judgmental.” In addition, I wonder if the gentleman is familiar with the writing of Donald Featherstone. On page 11 of Battle Notes for Wargamers, this instrumental figure in the organized hobby had this to say about refighting historical battles in miniature:
One could conduct an historical exercise, a demonstration of the battle as
opposed to a wargame. Another method is to follow the original course of
events reasonably well, but allow some leeway, without too much imaginative
stretch, for a reversed result. Too many liberties may not be taken, however, for
as we have said, the battle will become a wargame played for its own sake, lacking
any precision.
In my historical wargaming career, I have never conducted “an historical exercise.” I have, however, staged a fair number of historical refights. I have also set up, played, and reported on (to one degree or another) an even larger number of wargames. To be certain, there has been some experimentation and some tinkering done. To be sure, imagination played a key part, as my 6mm, 15mm, or 28mm figures were and continue to be represented by two-dimensional colored counters. At the risk of disagreeing with this pivotal figure in the hobby, I would respectfully suggest that there is something to be enjoyed about and said for playing a wargame for its own sake, even when the opposing armies might not be historically compatible. (For just two examples, permit me to offer 100 Years War French versus Classical Indians and New Kingdom Egyptians versus Gauls.) Speaking from a certain amount of experience, these various solo wargames were not precise in a mechanical engineering way, but they did satisfy a curiosity or questions about ancient or medieval military history, and they did provide hours of education, engagement and enjoyment.
Pleasure, Production, and Progress, not Perfection
It is a complete coincidence that I start this section on the 80th anniversary of D-Day, as I will be reviewing but not focusing too much on my history with the hobby, my history as a wargamer. (It is not a complete coincidence that for the past couple of weeks, I have been rereading sections of Volume Three of The Liberation Trilogy, by Rick Atkinson. Earlier this morning, while completing my daily walk (weather permitting), I could not help but think about what it must have been like to be a part of those invasion landings. I also recalled having visited certain Normandy sites when I travelled to Europe in the late summer of 1987.) Anyway, as I kept no physical records of my hobby activities 40 or 50 years ago, and the mind being what it is - at least for some - these specific memories are a bit incomplete. However, I did make an attempt to recall this history and to introduce myself in one of the first posts to this blog. (Explanatory note: This section was typed before the leading “Seriously though . . .” section was thought of and then drafted. My apologies for any redundancies.) In fact, I went back to that early 2021 post to cross reference the typed word against any other memories I had been able to dredge up out of the muddy moors and mists of my mind. For what it is worth, I recall the fiddly shields of the dark gray plastic Airfix Romans and the not quite orange of the Airfix Ancient Britons. Having more of an interest in the Horse & Musket era(s) at that stage or age, I had hundreds of American Revolutionary War and Napoleonic figures. These were all Airfix. These were all cream-white in their appearance, they were all unpainted, and they were glued to hand-cut cardboard movement trays. From what I can remember, the extent of my artistic talent was creating crude standards with color markers, paper, tape, and straight pins. I also converted a number of French Cuirassiers to Lancers by using a similar method. Terrain was, as one might expect, rather primitive - especially when compared to the tabletops of today. At the risk of generalizing, I would guess that a broadly similar experience or introduction might have been enjoyed by other wargamers when they were around the same age. Anyway, the basic point that I am struggling to get to and express is this: It seems that there was or may have been a greater level of enjoyment and pleasure with regard to hobby involvement at this time. Was this simply a product of my innocence and lack of education and experience? Perhaps. Was this simply a part of “the process”? That is to say, with anything new, such as interest in a hobby or a sport, one tends to go through stages. Through practice and training, one develops a better appreciation and understanding. Then again, one could also sustain an injury (to continue the athletic analogy) or one could be exposed to something entirely different and find attention and interest shifting in that new direction. As observed in a previous section, it occurs to me that I may be overthinking this. How can I justify comparing my wargaming interests and activities when I was 12 or 13 to the wargaming interests and activities I have and involve myself in when I am, well, let us just say significantly older?
At that tender age, I had no idea that I would, at some point, begin approaching or taking the hobby more seriously, that I would, at another point, have articles and reports published in a number of journals or magazines catering to the hobby. To be sure, I need to tread carefully here, lest readers think poorly of me and either develop or cement an opinion that I am rather “full of myself.” That concern noted, the record of my production and publication cannot be denied. This body of work is an established and objective fact. The question of whether my body of work has added anything of value to the hobby is, of course, a leading as well as subjective one. It would be rather presumptuous of me to even suggest that this question has ever come up in discussion. On further reflection and review, it seems safe as well as correct or at least defensible to say that I have made progress with regard to my wargame writing. It seems that this is arguable on both objective and subjective grounds. While I have not attempted a critical and exhaustive analysis of all my articles and reports (shudders at the idea or rereading material from 1995, 1996, and or 1997), I should like to think that my writing has developed, that it has improved. (In an early version of that sentence, I typed “gotten better.” Ugh.) I should also like to think that, by and large, the subject matter has become more adult, complex, or serious. At the same time, however, I sometimes wonder if I have written and or solo wargamed myself into a a kind of comfort zone, for lack of a better description, and as a result, made further progress that much more difficult.
I suppose it would be easy enough to trace my production by listing the various publications in which these various articles and reports have appeared. Very generally speaking, it seems that I started by writing - without being totally aware of it - for a broader and primarily American wargaming audience, and then “graduated” to drafting and editing material for a smaller, more specific and international one. An interesting as well as ironic email from an editor eventually paved the way for me to explore the opportunities afforded by blogging about my wargaming interests and activities. This certainly has been an interesting (sorry to reuse the word so soon) experience in the few years that my blog has been up and running, or stumbling. There is, without question, the potential to reach a much larger audience even though my preferred subject matter has changed little over that comparatively small window of time. It is also interesting (there I go again) to note or perceive the pressure to produce content for a blog, as opposed to the more relaxed atmosphere of writing for a journal or magazine that is published bimonthly or once a month.
Shifting gears here, but staying on the figurative road, I recall reading, with interest, (goodness, I simply have to find a different word!) Malcolm Gladwell’s piece about if you spend a certain amount of time on anything, then at some point, you will achieve expertise or perhaps even a level of greatness. I understand that his research and argument(s) have since been questioned if not disproved, but I wondered about the general idea or point. It would seem that it stands to reason that if you spend a lot of time doing something, you should or likely will get better at that something. I have been writing about wargaming for approximately 31 years. I have not kept track of the dates and time when I was “in the chair” and “staring at the blinking cursor” or “in the flow” at the keyboard or with a legal pad and pen. However, if I use the 10,000 hour figure or measurement as a kind of unofficial benchmark, then simple division informs that for each of those 31 years, I would have needed to spend roughly 322 hours or approximately 13 full days occupied by the hobby or wargaming. It seems more manageable to spread those 332 hours over 365 days. This distribution would have required a daily attention or focus of approximately 52 minutes on wargaming. To be certain, the definition of “occupied” is rather fluid. This could mean reading or writing about wargaming. It could also mean setting up a scenario and playing it. I suppose cleaning up my tabletop after a battle could also count. I would be remiss and possibly offend if I did not include rule writing or tinkering, prepping and painting figures, building terrain, or participating in competitions/tournaments. Incorporated with the reading and writing is time spent on the internet, checking out myriad blogs or discovering “new” ones about the hobby, typing the occasional comment, checking back a few days later, and then wondering why there seems to be so little time left in the day to attend to matters on the tabletop set up behind me, in the spare room, or even out in “the shed,” for those fortunate or resourceful enough to have a dedicated and separate standing structure for their hobby pursuits. I am nowhere near to being able to make even a reasonable approximation of how much time I have spent on the hobby of wargaming. Even though I have been involved in the hobby, in one way or another and with varying degrees of intensity which has resulted in higher production rates at times, for over three decades, it seems reasonable to suggest that I have a ways to go before I reach that objective as well as subjective milestone of 10,000 hours.
OK then . . . What’s next?
This is an easy question. I honestly don’t know. The assumption or hope is that this collection of random thoughts will be finished, edited several times and then posted to my blog around the 14th of June, a few days before the 209th anniversary of the several battles that marked the end of Napoleon Bonaparte. Anyway, after that, well . . . I have started preparing 60mm units (base width, not figure scale) of Late Achaemenid Persians and Alexandrian Macedonians for a possible scenario or series of TRIUMPH! solo games wherein 96-point armies will be employed. However, nothing is certain as of this typing.
That substantial paragraph on page 288 of Professor Goldsworthy’s biography of Caesar continues to appeal, so maybe I will develop something or a few somethings based on that description. The number of cohorts and accompanying cavalry seems ready-made for a Tactica II treatment. Of course, I could also stage a version of this scenario using To The Strongest! Anyway, to continue. I made the “mistake” of skipping ahead and rereading portions of Chapter XV - The Man and the Hour: Vercingetorix and the Great Revolt, 52 BC, so now I am also thinking about the possibility of some kind of campaign game set in Gaul. It would seem that supply, diplomacy, and strategy would have to feature prominently in this campaign, but how to do this as a solo player without burying myself in paperwork or procedures presents no little challenge.
Then again, I could convince myself to stage something having to do with the Italian Wars. I blame - that is to say - draw inspiration from the “Grand Poobah of the Palouse Pals,” Jon Freitag, and his several excellent reports of umpiring refights of Fornovo with remote player-generals. (See, if you have not already done so, https://palousewargamingjournal.blogspot.com/2024/04/battle-of-fornovo-1495.html, for the first course of this verbal and visual feast.) However, I would not stage my own interpretation of this historical battle. Instead, I would draft plans for a fairly sizable and imaginary engagement featuring armies assembled from the army lists found in the Early Renaissance section of Advanced ARMATI.
Going back in time over 1,000 years from the period of the Italian Wars, there is also a certain attraction to trying my hand at a reconstruction of Sentinum, 295 BC. This idea can be traced to the engaging LOST BATTLES report recently posted by Aaron Bell. (See https://prufrockian-gleanings.blogspot.com/2024/06/sentinum-295-bc-with-lost-battles.html.) It might be interesting to see how ARMATI or To The Strongest! or TRIUMPH! handles this historical battle.
Sufficed to say and adapting the embellishment employed by ‘The Trojan,’ the number of options are limited only by my imagination and or the amount of time I spend looking at wargaming blogs. If any one of these several listed ideas are pursued and turned into projects, will a wordy article or report eventually make its way onto my blog? Would it not be more generous to submit whatever article or report might result to the gentleman occupying the editor’s chair at Slingshot? Then again, at the acknowledged risk of overthinking it, I wonder if these ideas might be pursued, turned into projects, and then considered finished once the solo wargame is cleaned up and the dice and so forth are put away. Would I be able to recapture some of that simpler pleasure and engagement from years past, knowing that the game or the play was the thing, knowing that I did not have to or chose not to produce content for the blog?
Over the years, I have learned that there is such a thing as “a lead mountain.” I have also overheard conversations wherein the phrase “wargaming mojo” or something similar was mentioned. For good or ill, for better or worse, I have never owned “a lead mountain.” In fact, I do not recall having ever aspired to possess such a figurative (literal?) mountain, let alone establish a base camp while scaling such a geographical feature formed by dozens of opened and unopened packs of miniatures. For good or ill, for better or worse, I can relate more to the idea of “a wargaming or a wargamer’s mojo.” I have not gone back through my records to find details and produce evidence in order to prepare an official case, but it seems safe enough to suggest that my “mojo” is most often associated or tangled up with writer’s block. This is not to discount the impact of major life events, however.
The word count on the screen informs me that this current draft of a likely post is just north of 6,000. Recently, I posted a report about Raphia that was in the neighborhood of 8,500 words if the orders of battle are included. If they are not, then the report came in at around 7,000 words. So, it seems safe to remark that what I am currently experiencing is definitely not writer’s block. On further reflection and review, this particular collection of thoughts, etc., strikes me as more Socratic than anything else. But I must be careful with this kind of comparison, as I don’t want to become too philosophical. There is no great appeal to “getting lost in the weeds.”
In an attempt to bring this post to something resembling a conclusion, it would appear that my “examining and questioning” of articles and efforts in the past was restricted to those articles and efforts. That critical process continues to this day, but I should like to think that the “examining and questioning” is more considered, intelligent and nuanced. I suppose I could add mature to that list of adjectives. I should also like to think that this subjective analysis and assessment factors in or focuses more on the bigger picture of what I am trying to do, or think I am trying to do, and why I am trying to do it.
