thelonelyhavocs.com/2019/10/29/havoc-cast-35-triplets-raisin-toast-and-the-hero-drinking-game/
Tag: social media
It’s a Hobby, After All
I saw it written in a rather poignant article some time ago that hobbies are essential for our well-being. That we should relish in our mediocrity of the pursuit, and never sweat mastering the craft. This is our hobby — a leisure activity. To reach for perfection is to make it more than that. I wholeheartedly agree with, and live by, this sentiment.
This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to win your games, or earn a placement in a painting competition. It means you should give it your best effort and be satisfied with the result. Perhaps you can push yourself to improve, but only against the standard of your previous self. Are you enjoying the pursuit of these things? If you are, mission accomplished!
Just today, I saw a rather prominent hobbyist on social media proclaim they were “burned out” chasing the likes, comments, and general “have-to-constantly-improve” mentality; they declared their resignation from social media as a result. I absolutely respect the decision. Being able to walk away at a time you feel is best is an admirable trait, and I will never question their motive; I applaud it. Despite this, however, there was a sort of personal hollowness underpinning the declaration in my own mind as I read it. Who was setting these standards to hold yourself against? What would my followers say if I posted a “sub-par” miniature? Surely being self-aware that it’s become a chore is evidence that we possess the power to calm it down, perhaps take a break. If you know you’re posting for the sole purpose of getting likes and social media traction, and not to further your capital-H Hobby experience, can’t that be easily remedied? Is ghosting the scene / community / your followers the best move?
If it is, go for it! You know better than anyone else. And I mean that.
But I would just implore those that are feeling this burnout to pump the brakes. Contrary to the apparently popular opinion, this isn’t a job. Very few of us make money by playing with our toy soldiers. Even those exceedingly rare few that might turn a profit likely only make supplemental income and not a living wage in their efforts. I’d even consider that still just a “hobbyist;” only dabbling in monetizing what we already love. We have no boss beyond ourselves.
I suppose I was just struck by the self-awareness of the event. As if it couldn’t be stopped, even after the realization.
My summer project of speed painting an entire Biel-Tan army using mostly Contrast paints is 100% not my best work. At the end of a session I’m sometimes even discouraged at the results; certainly not up to my usual standards! But that’s okay, I’m having a good time challenging myself with my self-imposed restrictions. And you know what? If I break some of the rules – nothing happens! We set the rules, we set the expectations, we hobby exactly how we want to hobby.
Look at the Ironsleet guys. Expertly curated vignettes of the genre, carefully crafted narrative epics that put all of us to shame. I’ll never have the time to accomplish a thing like that, the Herculean effort of creating a complex narrative with a team of other likeminded hobbyists, to travel to another country and play one almighty game, the likes of which will never be seen again upon its conclusion. It’s an ephemeral wish, a phantom aspiration we all have within our little hobby hearts — and I’m perfectly content just viewing from the sidelines. My worth isn’t measured against them, but rather alongside them. We are all hobbyists, and we can all be proud of their work.
So, if you’re feeling burned out, that you’re just in a rut of who-knows-what, or that you just are absolute garbage compared to these paragons of hobbying, ask yourself why you feel that way. Can you refocus? Are you pursuing some lofty goal that a hobby shouldn’t ever necessitate? Search for that spark of excitement you had when you got your very first miniature, and work from there.
If you’re not having a good time, it isn’t a hobby.
Out With the Old…
Look on any social media platform today, and you’ll see a flood of comments about the newly announced upcoming Space Marine releases. Some positive, some negative — all strongly opinionated about how correct their beliefs are.
While I will be happy to admit I’m very excited about the full range, I do have a slight trepidation with the reconnaissance walker’s appearance, but that would be easily fixed with some conversion work if it looks wonky in person. I’m tempted to put mesh plating between the roll bars. And, all things considered, this is such a slight aesthetic concern that it doesn’t impact my reception of the announcement at all — I’m excited by the entire release. But that isn’t the point of this post.
My main issue I take is with many of the negative comments online that Games Workshop has somehow destroyed the Space Marine aesthetic, fluff, brand, and modus operandi in releasing units like these new Phobos-clad warriors. Childhoods are ruined, people are vowing pacts of vengeance, “Those aren’t my Space Marines!” they say.
“It’s not Grimdark anymore!”
“Tacticool Marines!”
“Update other armies!”
And this is supremely tiresome to me, for a number of reasons, because most of the knee-jerk reactions are so unfounded, it’s gotten to the point where I pity the Community Team for having to moderate and sift through those comments. I feel worse for the designers of the models who not labored over the sculpts, but went through what is likely a discerning approval process only to be absolutely shat on by a bunch of very vocal muppets online.
Let’s address the big one, and probably the most often repeated; the idea that these new marines aren’t grim-dark enough to satisfy whatever vision the consumer has of what Warhammer should be. That somehow the setting has been retconned or, worse, changed irreparably. For those that might not know, the term grimdark was largely fabricated as a direct result of Warhammer: 40,000. It’s a term to describe the particularly dystopian genre and hopeless plight of the inhabitants of the setting itself. “In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war.” The term is now used widely among various settings and systems.
So what does “grimdark” look like? Is it armored warriors belonging to an oppressive regime, with skulls on their battleplate, skull masks, purity seals, ridiculously large weaponry (with skulls on them), and exaggerated physiques all sowing terror among enemies of the overbearing theocracy? Because that describes the new Phobos marines as much as it does the 20-year-old Astartes models.
Games Workshop’s vision of their universe’s setting is literally the benchmark for what it means to be “grimdark.” Whatever suppositions the consumer might have about aesthetics, we are just along for the ride — Games Workshop can (and should) do with their Intellectual Property as they see fit. Who are we to go on their Facebook page and write scathing comments and stamp our feet until the very successful corporation realizes Timmy from Salt Lake City wants a complete overhaul of their entire range of miniatures, years in the making?
My usual response to these sorts of outcries are that they are a vocal minority. And indeed they are, a vast amount of the player base likes the changes, from what I can gather. With a global brand that has turned immense profits recently through better consumer engagement, is there no trust in their vision? After all, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen radical changes in their model lineup.
What about the other factions, you say? Surely the Eldar need new models, I hear you cry. I agree, they do. But one has to recognize that this isn’t giving the Space Marines more stuff on top of their old range. It’s effectively replacing the range. It makes sense that the company will fully revamp their flagship line and literal poster-boys before diverting attention to other armies. But even then, look at Sisters of Battle getting an entirely new plastic range. Look at Chaos Marines, look at daemons, all of the Age of Sigmar releases – they can only produce so much at a time, be patient.
Phasing out of the older marines is a hot-button issue. But I am flabbergasted when people act surprised that this is a possibility, even an inevitability. The writing has been on the walls for two years minimum, it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that they won’t be around much longer. In my opinion, Games Workshop will continue to support the model line with rules, but I don’t see any new kits being produced for the “old-marines.” When the molds wear out (or sooner) they’ll be shelved for good — and I’m okay with that. But look at the glossy photographs in the newly minted Space Marine codex, you still see the old (old!) land speeder kits prominently featured, the old devastators, and many more kits that people thought would vanish. They’re still supported.
Another point of contention I have is when people claim it’s all shoehorned and detrimental to the “established canon” of lore in making these broad, sweeping changes. Someone might say it’s absurd to concoct the Cawl story about 10,000 years of working on the Primaris Marines in a secret lab. And while I’m no expert on the minutia of Games Workshop lore, I do remember a time where the Horus Heresy was just a brief mention in a throwaway comment in a rulebook. It’s now a massively successful tabletop game, book series, and thriving setting all on its own. The first published Horus Heresy book was released in 2006 for Pete’s sake, that’s after the entire T’au army was introduced to Warhammer. I remember when we got a new plastic land raider model, when grav-cannons were brought into the tabletop game, I remember when all the armies got flyers of some kind. These were all introduced in the same way the Primaris Marines are — a cool concept developed and fleshed out to advance the setting while also selling a new product.
The difference is that the Primaris situation is one that is replacing existing models, iconic models, so people are naturally offended by this prospect. I think Games Workshop has done their best in mitigating the outcry with continued support of the rules for that dated line of marines. But it’s time to move on.
A closing thought I have regarding the Primaris issue, which I’ve brought up before, is that it’s what the people wanted. People will defiantly tell you this isn’t the case, and they always wanted marines the size of Gurdsmen – but look back a few years at the top-rated conversions, and what all the renowned hobbyists were producing: truescale space marines. They went through great lengths to make the existing marines bigger than a gurdsman. Say what you want about the story invented to justify it, but we got what we wished for. And for that I am happy.
This is obviously a divisive opinion piece and I in no way want to suggest my line of thinking is the only correct response. It’s simply me venting my opinions on the matter, where I welcome any and all differing opinions. You hobby how you want to hobby — don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. But don’t get caught up in a mob mentality online and bandwagon on an opinion because it’s the hotness to trash on Games Workshop. Hate the story they invented, hate the models; that’s all fine. But don’t claim Games Workshop is shitting on their own property, because they aren’t. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you — look what happened to Dawn of War 3.*
Enjoy yourself, but let others enjoy their hobby too.
*Dawn of War 3 is a fun game, post-patch. But it was declared dead on arrival because of the shit reviews people who had never even played it gave online. Relic abandoned the franchise as a result.
3-D Printing, 3rd Party, and Me
I’ve seen the question asked on many of the Warhammer 40,000 forums / pages / outlets I frequent: “How do you feel about 3-D printed models?” And an enormous outcry invariably floods the comment section in defense of these 3-D printed models. The claims range from simple enthusiasm of the medium to outright rage; most often it is a disdain for Games Workshop’s pricing model and how it’s their Robin Hood-esque duty to print the models at home, for pennies. Hadn’t Games Workshop gotten enough of our money, anyway? On the numerous occasions this topic surfaces on social media, the comments explode in a back-and-forth torrent of arguments. So here I am to settle the matter (but probably just start more arguments!). I’ll try to cover the myriad facets of the discussion, but will most likely (unintentionally) leave some areas out. Feel free to comment and ask questions because, as I said, this is a discussion and mostly just my opinion on the matter. So let’s jump right in!
Printing Games Workshop related intellectual property (IP) to sell is literally stealing and, as a result, illegal.
There — that’s it, it’s settled forever! Commence ticker-tape parade!
No sane person would ever try to refute that claim, it is unequivocally illegal to sell protected IP commodities. “But Andrew,” I hear the masses cry, “All you need to do is, like, get the data files, print them, and you can get these models at home for the cost of some filament and a decent printer. It’s practically free! It’s.. it’s not illegal, it’s sticking it to The Man. No, hear me out! They charge $35 for a Primaris Lieutenant, they had it coming! Isn’t that how BattleScribe works? They should lower their prices! Finecast is garbage!”
A real dilemma is whether or not the person making the CAD files is to be held liable for disseminating the protected content. But let’s just remove that whole legality part of the equation from the discussion. We’ll even stop talking about justifying the cost. Because at this point you’re either so entrenched in the notion that the theft is justifiable, or you’re correct, one or the other. But let’s not get hung up on semantics and instead move on to other facets of the debate that I find particularly interesting. Here’s an actual question posed by someone on Facebook a few days ago which can steer us into more navigable waters:
“How would you guys feel about playing against a fully 3-D printed 40k army?”
Do you want to see how quickly a comment section of 30,000 adults in a Facebook group can explode? Just ask the above question and kick your feet up and watch the carnage unfold before your very eyes. The dead rise from their graves, human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria! What is your reaction to the above question? Surely you have strong convictions one way or the other. But do you want to know my own feelings on the matter? I abhor the notion of a fully 3-D printed army, but maybe not for the reasons you might think. To really get into my head, I’ll need to explain myself a little better than I usually do.
Let me paint a picture for you which will illustrate my own sentiments. Imagine you’ve just walked into your friendly local gaming store (FLGS) after trying to find time and arrange a schedule, and brought your army looking for a pickup game. This is a rare chance you have to get out of the house and have a few hours to yourself, hopefully it is time well spent. Upon entering, you are then immediately approached by a decent looking guy who asks if you’d like a game. Awesome, you think, no waiting around and you can immediately play! Added bonus that the guy isn’t that sweaty neckbearded gatekeeper that lurks in the corner on Wednesdays. Shaping up to be a worthwhile trip! As he unpacks his army, however, they’re all just bizarre approximations of the model in question built with Lego. Not a single actual model among them. Even his tape measure is metric, and he insists on doing the conversions with each measurement. His rule-books are poorly printed PDF scans.
How would you feel about the game? We’re not talking about whether this guy can afford the minis, or whether or not he was doing anything wrong, that’s a later discussion. How would you feel about the game? Personally, I would feel disappointed that I wasted my time playing him. And I would venture to say an enormously overwhelming majority of others would, too. This is coming from a guy that is ultra-inclusive and willing to go the extra mile to help others of all backgrounds break into the hobby — I’m a Warhammer Hero, dammit! It’s not a question of the opponents means of playing the game, but my own selfish needs being met — was it a satisfying game of Warhammer? Was it Warhammer? If I use the main Warhammer 40,000 rulebook with a bunch of colored tokens on a table, the game is still fundamentally the same. We are playing the game. But is it satisfying our expectations of the game?
When I go to play a game of Warhammer 40,000, I want a certain level of cinema, of narrative. Even the most self-proclaimed net-listing, min-maxing, tournament-try-hard win-at-all-cost (WAAC) players want this visual quality, or they’d be playing a game that was more readily balanced and fair, without all the unnecessary frills: checkers. We buy into Warhammer because of the models, the story, the imagery. So, back to Lego guy. Would I hunt this guy down, along with all his other Lego cronies, and make it my endless mission to bring them to miniature justice? Of course not. I don’t believe it is fair that I force my views of how the game should be played onto others, I’m very laissez faire in my attitudes on other people’s methods of enjoying the hobby (as we all should be, honestly). There is actually a fairly sized community of “poorhammer” and “toyhammer” players out there, to which I have zero qualms. But the issue I take is that the game is a social contract, this oft-repeated term, where two players must make concessions between the two of them for the enjoyment of both parties. I would never play with Lego guy again, because the game with him wasn’t satisfying to me.
In the same vein, I wouldn’t play with a fully 3-D printed army for that exact reason. It wouldn’t be satisfying. Whether it was me knowing that they were just mass-produced in his basement, or the nagging guilt that I’m playing with a felon*, it would be no different than if my opponent were using his Lego figurines. The game is certainly Warhammer for all intents and purposes, we are playing the game, as far as the rules go, but it’s a cheap facsimile. It’s not what I signed on for. It’s not what I wanted to be doing with my time.
But it’s much more complex than this.
Entire websites exist where you can buy 3-D printed weapons, shoulder pads, and other accessories for “28mm sci-fi space warriors.” Perhaps my favorite thing about the 3-D printing market is the clever names they have to come up with to avoid IP infringement. But these websites provide a valuable service. They’re not breaking that sacred IP mandate laid out by Games Workshop’s ravenous legal team, they live dangerously on the edge, and I’m quite comfortable with that. If you want some of those “Shadow Angel” shoulder pads to make your sons of Caliban that much more epic, you can order them and I wouldn’t bat an eye at the notion. I find it particularly interesting that in my own formed opinions I have zero issue with adding these third party parts to augment official Games Workshop models. Where is the line drawn? How much of these augmentations can you add before it crosses that line? Games Workshop events have typically allowed a small percentage of a miniature to consist of these third party components, be it shoulder pads, bases, etc. I’ve won Armies on Parade twice, and Inner Circle (arguably more strict that Armies on Parade) with such components on my miniatures, and I know others have too. This jives with my belief that after you buy the full kit, say, Space Marine Intercessors, you can do with them what you like, as long as a majority of the original mode is intact. The fault in the full-army 3-D printing argument is that you are stealing directly from the company. Here, you’re adding to it — everyone profits.
Additionally, I know of folks that have entirely unique 3-D sculpts of miniatures that represent something in the Warhammer game. An Instagram acquaintance of mine that I respect highly has sculpted and printed, 100% on his own, an entirely new daemon prince model to use. This I also have no issue with. It’s no different than hand sculpting a greenstuff model to supplement your army — the issue was never 3-D printing as a stigma on its own, rather it’s the idea of stealing, cheapening the game through the typical methods it is employed as a tool of theft. The aforementioned daemon prince adds to the game. It has been expanded upon, and no violation of copyright or theft of IP has occurred. Many cases of this exist.
Which brings me to another long-winded topic I won’t go into excessive detail on at this time (perhaps another blog post?); how can I say Lego guy was cheapening my experience by using dinky toy miniatures, but I’m okay with someone else using (arguably) the same thing via a printed daemon prince of their own design? Who sets the standard upon which we determine the quality of a stand-in? The difference is in a combination of intention and execution, I think. Look at the examples below:
I would never expect anyone to magically pull off Adam Savage level kitbashes or scratch-builds, but a certain level of investment in even a build of amateur talent should be evident. Show that you care enough about the thing you are building to convey to your opponent that you aren’t wasting his or her time. Be passionate about the thing. Dropping a few Lego figures on the table took zero effort. But if you really want to get into some gray area discussions and slippery slopes, you could argue that complex Lego builds take a lot of effort and thought and passion in recreating Warhammer models.
The bottom line? I have no issue with 3-D printed anything, if that’s your jam. You do you! But if you come to play with an army of color tokens (or equivalent) armies, I sure as shit won’t be having a good enough time to play with you again. Remember that while your mission to save a few bucks is a valid one, make sure it isn’t to the detriment of the community you frequently play with. One of my good friends and co-workers keeps asking to use some Predator figurines as Officio Assassinorum agents. I’m absolutely against this idea, I personally find it on the same level as “Lego guy,” but I’m not going to let it cause any sort of strife in our group. Just because I disagree with something doesn’t mean I’m correct, or even that I need to throw a tantrum over it. But seeing this guy fighting Darnath Lysander takes me out of my immersion — why would I want to play Warhammer without using Warhammer characters?
What do y’all think? Surely my opinion isn’t gospel, so let’s hear what you’ve gotta say!
*It’s hyperbole, but just assuming the stolen value of goods exceeds the state minimum which often ranges between $500-1000 to constitute felony theft.
Adepticon 2019 Recap
It’s been a week, and I’m already suffering from the withdrawals. I’ve heard others say you’d miss it immediately, and I definitely do. Going to Adepticon 2019 was my first ever convention experience — particularly on this scale — I had no idea what was in store for me. Sure, I’d done Bayou Wars decades ago when I was in school, but that was a small regional affair in New Orleans. This was going to be different. So here’s my account of my 24 hours at Adepticon, which will get edited, added on, and refined when I get more time to review it. This is a pretty raw stream-of-consciousness post:
I took off my afternoon lectures (thanks to some very cool substitutes) and got to New Orleans International Airport around noon with nothing but a backpack and my day bag with a few changes of clothes. I love traveling, and occasionally actually enjoy travelling alone (less to worry about!), and going somewhere I had never been before (Chicago) on top of the excitement of my reason for going was getting me super excited. Knowing I had only about 24 hours at Adepticon was a bit of a buzzkill, but I was determined to make the most of it. I again have to compliment my wife on her understanding and support in letting me zoom off to Adepticon on short notice leaving her with the kids; if 24 hours was all I could manage this year, it was going to count!
An unremarkable flight landed me in temperatures 40 degrees colder than when I departed two hours ago. It struck me at that precise moment I had only brought a very thin hoodie. No matter, I would be inside 99% of the time, let me just get a cab or use mass transit, like I do at every other airport on the planet. I’ll be there in no time! But after freezing my nuts off for 30 minutes I notice an enormous sign that says cabs must be pre-arranged, with a bank of phones under it and a preferred taxi company’s phone number. Not only had I wasted half of a precious Adepticon hour, I had been waiting for a cab that would never come. I quickly made the call, waited 15 minutes for my designated driver to show up, hopped in, and was deposited soon after at the Spring Hill Suites, which was inconveniently across the interstate from Adepticon’s Renaissance hotel. The guy at the front desk was incredibly polite, got me checked in, told me about the free breakfast, and even suggested I walk to Adepticon and save my money, as there was a pedestrian bridge headed directly to the site — perfect! So I rushed across the interstate, took the selfie you can find on Instagram, and got in touch with a fellow Instagrammer who was already on-site: @warbudgies!
Entering the warmth of the convention hall, I was struck by the enormity of the event. Thousands of attendees were there, some in costume, others toting magnificently painted armies, but all were having a grand time by the looks of it. The line for check-in was short, so I hopped in and asked for my badge, which was apparently waiting for me. The lady skimmed the list, didn’t see my name, and asked if I wanted to purchase one. No thanks. I bought an $8 beer instead and made my way to find his highness Mr. Budgies, or motorized Warlord Titan fame. Upon meeting, I found him easy to talk to, and definitely a good partner for convention shenanigans — he’s definitely not a bunch of budgies stacked on top of one another in a trench coat and hat. He’d come with his brother, who was playing in a Warmachine event. I told him about my badge mix-up and I said I’d better go find some Games Workshop top people to sort it out. I can’t for the life of me remember who it was from the Warhammer Community team that eventually helped me, but he marched me to the check-in line, and asked the exact same lady if I was on the list. She checked, and I was. She just.. didn’t see it the first time? Who knows. Either way, I got my badge! We also found a full pack of Marlboro’s while waiting in the line, which I donated to the hardworking Warhammer staff.
After meeting back up with Budgies, I hung out for an hour talking shop, cruising the vendors, and generally had a great time. Soon after, I bid him adieu as my scheduled Warhammer Heroes dinner was approaching. I found an elevator and went up to the 15th floor lounge, where there would be a short cocktail hour before dinner. The frosted glass door has some movement in it, but no major gathering of people, which concerns me. Was in I the right place? I peek inside and am greeted by who I assume is a staff member, who appears to be one of the few people in the little atrium of the lounge. She makes easy conversation, and asks about me being a Hero, and we get on to what I do for a living. After explaining my art history background, she mentions it’s a favorite of hers, too! Time goes on, more people trickle in (in various interpretations of the requested dress code of ‘smart, casual’), and I have the pleasure of meeting the other Heroes. There was Hank, the founder of Adepticon (!!!), Carl of the Independent Characters podcast (!!!!!), Dan of The Lonely Havocs podcast (???), and a bunch of others I’m absolutely forgetting. Ty Finocchiaro was there, and we spoke for a short bit about being a teacher and the intricacies of it. He reminds me of Crispin Glover, which is an amazing quality.
When we’re seated for dinner (which was delicious), I see the name placards next to my seat: Dan Gomez to my left, and Sarah Kaiser to my right. Sarah Kaiser. The artist that does like 90% of the Warhammer Community illustrations, along with those awesome staff portraits you see everywhere. I’ve been an enormous fan of her work for years. She sits next to me, and its the woman I was talking to for 45 minutes in the lobby. I immediately explain my gaffe, and have a pretty big fanboy moment explaining how I love her work. I somehow managed to proceed the rest of the evening without making a total ass of myself, until I got to talking to Dan, on my left. To make a long story short: it felt as if we’d been old friends and were just catching up. He has such a contagious enthusiasm about everything, and made the appropriate number of dick jokes. I was in good company, and I am lucky to have been seated there where I could make the acquaintance of such wonderful people. I stood, received my medal, was clapped at, and continued to have a lovely dinner among excellent folks.
After dinner, fueled by too much champagne, I unabashedly requested admittance into the posse of Dan, who was going to meet more of his crew at the hotel bar. He graciously allowed me to tag along, for which I was thankful as I had nowhere else to go! I met an insane amount of amazing people, and felt the warmth and camaraderie from the group as if I had known them for ages. It was also at this time that the gang made a pledge to get me active on Twitter, as my Instagram celebrity status wasn’t enough. We’ll see how that goes. But I could wax poetic about the community as a whole and how these people are a great cross-section of it, and its inclusive nature, but I would gush for hours on the topic. Just know that the community in its entirety is welcoming, and never have I experienced it more fervently than I had in the few hours I was at Adepticon that day. What seemed like hours of shenanigans passed, and I found it time to make the cold walk home.
I made it safely to my room across the interstate. Hit the bed, and immediately slept.
Now, let me explain my life for the past ten months. We have a four year old daughter who sleeps through the night, but my 10-month-old son has prevented my wife and myself from getting decent rest for nearly a full year. Part of the guilt of going on this trip was that my wife would resent me having a whole hotel room to myself with uninterrupted sleep while she (an RN that works the night shift, which is already an immense strain on your sleep patterns) dealt with the kids alone at home. I am safe to say that I felt no guilt that morning, because I woke up, inexplicably, at 6 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. I’d assume it was just my normal sleep rhythm waking me up that early — I couldn’t sleep in if I tried! So I showered, talked to my family on the phone, waited a short bit, and texted the only person I knew: Dan. I met him, Scott, and Nick for breakfast at the hotel buffet, which was delicious. We then all cruised the vendors, where I was disappointed to find out that Forge World had sold out of Reaver Titan weapon arms, which I wanted to snag while I was there. Though I did get a couple of the limited edition Space Marine Lieutenants for some friends (I could only get a couple!).
After some time, a few of us toured through the gaming halls and marveled at some of the excellent armies in games or on display. It was truly a sight to behold! Then, we all went to the hotel lobby and found a corner of sofas and chairs and melted into their soft embrace. I had only been there 24 hours and I was ready for a break. I had resigned to sit there until I had to be at the airport for my flight home, in a few short hours. Until my phone got a text from an unknown number – the area code was that of my hometown:
One of my former students, who’s at Loyola in Chicago – one of the founding members of our Warhammer club back at school sent me a random text to say he was at Adepticon! He had no idea I was there, much less a Warhammer Hero! To say it was a cool moment is an understatement. He came and found me, with a few of his friends in tow. We talked for a bit and caught up before he went on his way, and I eventually had to go on mine. I had a flight to catch!
All-in-all, the experience was absolutely amazing. It’s something I want to make an effort to attend every year. There are things I didn’t even do at Adepticon that would only heighten the experience. I want to play actual games next year! To witness the 5,600+ people there, all sharing the experience with you is humbling, to meet new friends, to see incredible displays, watch exciting games, demo products, buy whatever you want (except Reaver arms), is something you should not pass up. I make a big deal about community-building through my social media presence, it’s an important topic for me. We need to all be excellent to each other, to enjoy this hobby together, and to build up rather than tear down. And man, everything I saw at Adepticon 2019 made me happy that I’m a part of the community.
[I’ll likely add more and edit this as the week goes on. If you want to know anything specific, just ask!]
The Community & You: Being a Good Participant (or How to Gain a Lot of Followers)
Let me start off by saying y’all rock – this isn’t a rant, a call-out, or anything scandalous. The community is truly amazing. I already knew this to be the case, but going to Adepticon this year only made it more evident that my beliefs are well founded. The community is healthy, welcoming, and encouraging in all aspects. There are obvious trolls and miserable people to be sure, mostly online, but I firmly believe this to be a vocal / visible minority. And this extends beyond the behemoth that is the Warhammer community, but really any fandom.
So what am I about to say? Nothing earth shattering; but something I say whenever I can, and hopefully it is something that resonates with y’all. It is not some soapbox for me to pontificate on an idea in the hopes of going viral or getting more social media traction for myself – I say this with no ulterior motive and an altruistic spirit:
Interact with the community on social media.
And I mean it. You actually should interact with folks. Smashing the like button on every image, or even on all comments isn’t enough. That has no heart, no warmth (well, I guess it literally is a heart). I sometimes stand in awe at how I managed to gain 10,500+ Instagram followers here, and gain a healthy thousand-strong population on an always-active Discord server, and recently ballooning my Twitter count. Now, I’ll be the first to say a follower count isn’t important, there are amazing accounts out there with less than 100 followers. I’m only using it as an easy metric in this instance to measure reach and influence for the good of the community at large. Big accounts have big influence.
So why me, how did I do it? I haven’t entered Golden Daemon, I’m not showcasing stellar paintjobs, I’m certainly unremarkable in every way compared to every other hobbyist out there. How did I get such a following? How in the holy hell did I get to be a Warhammer Hero?
I do one simple thing: interact! I respond to just about every comment on my Instagram. And I try to not give one word platitudes (though sometimes I do, which bothers me in hindsight). Provide an insight, an observation, a word of encouragement, or (gasp!) even a criticism! The trick is to actually have a meaningful engagement. My biggest initiative, #hohohobbyvices, is the very definition of this – it’s forced interaction! Some of my most engaged posts of all time are ones asking questions. And not just generic, simple questions that illicit an easy response to drive analytics, but thought provoking opinion topics. Have conversations with the community – be sociable.
In the same vein, there’s been a recent push on Instagram to #spreadthehobbylove. It’s a fantastic drive started by (I believe) @og.paintworks, which is at its core the ideal way to engage. It mobilizes the community to seek out those who may lie on the periphery, it promotes interaction! My only gripe — and it’s a very small gripe which doesn’t undermine the intended function — is that it’s turned into spam, it’s lost it’s charm. This does not diminish its effect, overall, but I’m not going to watch an Instagram story with 50+ unique account features of a screenshot with one of their works. You can see who views these kinds of spam stories, and the view count drops sharply after the first few are scrolled through. As I said above, there’s no real heart to it, it’s cold and sterile when it’s used on such a massed scale. This isn’t a knock on the initiative, I would just love to see it pared down to be more personal. Featuring one spotlight a week, or even a day would be more effective. Look at @the_drop_bear_au on Instagram. I’d say his #makinmatesmonday hashtag is arguably more engaging than the massed #spreadthehobbylove. He delves into his weekly “mate,” and explores what they’re all about. There’s a level of effort there, a connection. Both of these drives are valid, and worthy of high praise.
I see many self-styled “professional hobbyists” on all social media platforms failing to engage. They’ve might have the home studio for their vlogs, the branded content, the Patreon exclusive perks, but they’re sometimes lacking one vital element: engagement. Sure, they’ll like a comment, say “thanks!” or upvote a post, but it’s so sterile – there’s no community building in that. It’s a means to an end; driving site traffic to chase that monetization (in many cases). Not that monetization is bad, it isn’t, but if you’re just chasing the follow count and pushing site traffic for dollarydoos, the community will sniff it out a mile away and you’ll lose credibility. Look at Spikeybits, and other sites of a similar vein.
Despite this, don’t make it a second job, never exhaust yourself trying to be always-on and responsive at all hours. But we as a community, myself included, should make a stronger effort in actually being a community. Take a moment to construct a meaningful response to a comment, ask a question, or provide some avenue for discussion rather than something that resembles a captcha response.
Can you be an excellent member of the community without posting responses and actively engaging? Of course you can! But if you’re wondering what you can do to possibly get a little more from the community, considering a proactive approach. Be someone people enjoy talking with, be the community.
What do you think? Are there ways the community can be more responsive? Have I missed the mark?
HOBBYVICES 