A full year has turned, and once again I’ve got an article in The Escapist. Last year’s Games of Christmas Past was a heartfelt effort that I was really glad I could get out there. This year, to be honest, my piece is just set dressing for the issue. It’s not a big deal, I don’t mind writing fluff. Unfortunately, there was so little room for my fluff this year that pretty much everything I was trying to say with the article was left on the editing room floor. The realities of a gaming magazine. No biggie. I still think it turned out pretty well.

During the holidays, when the games themselves change to reflect the season, it’s a great chance to reconnect with what makes them fun to play. It’s not the raiding, and it’s certainly not the epic loot. The reason we play World of Warcraft or Star Wars Galaxies is the same reason we travel home for the holidays: We need to connect with people that can make a difference in our lives.

Thankfully, the realities of blogging means I can bring you the parts of the article The Escapist didn’t pay for. If you’d like to read the full version of my article, go ahead and open up a tab to the piece on the site: Going Home for the Holidays. Then, read on below to get the rest of the article. I hope you enjoy this ‘writer’s cut’ of the article, and are looking forward to a good Holiday season yourself. :)
Fair warning: This never got an editor’s attention. Russ and Joe are some of my favorite peoples, because they make my writing better. I wish I had a little editor right here on my desk, to help me out all the time.

Here’s how to read the article in its entirety. Read the first paragraph, then start reading below:

Popping open my games folder, I had several options to begin with; almost by instinct, I chose to begin in familiar stomping grounds. City of Heroes focuses on the shining streets of Paragon City, and has always had a soft spot in my heart. More than any other game to date, I’ve primarily stepped into the tights of my Electricity Blaster surrounded by real-life friends. When the guy in the purple suit, or the chick with the fire aura are people you know personally, it’s hard not to take such memories seriously. Perhaps I’d hoped to log on and find them there, frozen in the game world as they’d been all those months ago.

I was very much alone, though, when my avatar stepped out of the shadows of Talos Island. The Gamester holiday event was in full swing, with packages strewn everywhere, but the relatively low-level zone meant that there just weren’t that many people around. I decided I’d participate over in Atlas Park, because there at least I’d be assured of some company. A few superjumps and I was there, soaring over the statue of Atlas to take in the newb-cluster below. The conversation in the public chat centered around the inanity of the holiday gift, a free jetpack. I hadn’t realized we’d gotten a freebie, and immediately pulled it out to give it a try.

It was white and green. Festive green, and it had sparkly snowflakes coming out the back. As soon as I’d put it on, music had begun playing, a sort of jaunty wordless tune that tried to capture Christmas and mostly made me think of shopping malls. It was also considerably slower than my super jump, and so I stuffed it back into my utility belt with a sigh. The packages tempted, and I was all set to see what the ‘Gamester’ had left me for Christmas. I ran up to a cluster not too far from the newb-gathering beneath Atlas, and clicked on a well-wrapped package of green and gold. Instead of a gift, I got a beat-down. Snow-beasties leapt up out of the ground, all of them level-appropriate for me, and laid into my fragile Blaster hide. Surprise and my lack of recent experience with CoH’s controls quickly saw me splayed out on the ground, and then rezzing in a Hospital. I asked around, and found that there was a chance you’d get a gift, and a chance you’d get a creature. Essentially, this was an even less-entertaining version of the 2004 Halloween event, which featured a number of creatures popping out of the trick or treating doors. That realization killed the holiday mood the event had for me, faster than a sour batch of eggnog. With a last look at the very sad-looking SuperGroup list, I closed out the CoH client.

With many hours still to go before my wife got home, I didn’t want to call it a night yet. Everquest 2 was not something I’d played a lot of at the time, so I decided to take my half-elven mage for a quick walkabout in Qeynos. Even if there wasn’t anyone on to talk to, at least I’d get to check out the decorations. As soon as I’d logged on, I noticed the cheery Christmas changes the Norrathians had made. There were some beautiful decorations up, and the new music was most definitely not something you’d hear in a mall. I’d heard there were some interesting quests to do, but after taking in the scenery I realized my time here would be relatively short. My entire (admittedly anemic) friends list was dark. Nevertheless, the spirit of the Frostfell Season beckoned, so I made my way to the clock of Ak’anon to snag my avatar a gift. I came away from that part of the city with snowballs, a stocking for my apartment, and a grin on my face at the forced good cheer the developers had injected into the game world. Once again, though, I found myself alone in a holiday state of mind. Once my stocking was hung up, my pet dragon had been patted, and the upkeep on my apartment had been paid, there wasn’t much left for me to do. The Everquest 2 client closed out even more quickly than City of Heroes had.

Once you’re done there, read through the Warcraft section of the published article. When you finish the paragraph that ends “… just too depressing”, read this:

When I came back to my desktop, though, I’d received an instant message from someone I hadn’t heard from in quite a while. A former member of the first World of Warcraft guild I’d been in, this guy had headed back to the verdant fields of Vana’diel and Final Fantasy XI . While the guild’s incompetent management had torn itself apart, he’d been forming a strong linkshell group and gaining levels like crazy on his Galka Samurai. I had gone to the shell with open arms after the split, and managed to push back my frustrations by pulling down massive XP with my little Taru Taru Black Mage. The message was kind of rambling, but it made me crack a huge smile. He’d been playing again recently, and wanted to know if I wanted to hop on for the Starlight Celebration. I responded by logging in, and my super-short arcanist stretched his arms for the first time in months under the Windhurst skies. We hooked up, and it was just like old times again. Bumming around the beautiful surroundings in the Taru Taru home city, we caught up on recent events while trying to figure out what we had to do for the crazy Taru kids. We’d gathered that we had to give presents to the younglings, but when they started offering to teleport us to other cities we became very confused.

We understood the gist of the Christmas card quest, though, and quickly compared to see which one had the more annoying hunt on their hands. Each card we were given was addressed to a character with a specific job and in a certain level range. His had him looking for a White Mage in the 40s while mine wanted me to track down a Ranger in the 60s. An hour or two passed as we hung out by the Auction House, talking and emoting while we kept an eye on the passing crowd. I was always surprised by the number of people that can clog up the Auction Houses in FFXI, and we spent as much time commenting on passing players as we did catching up. He’d just recently had a kid, and I’d just recently gotten married. Some mutual acquaintances were moving to new parts of the country, some had new jobs, and one had apparently quit massive games altogether. We laughed at that last, and made bets on how long it would be before he succumbed to the lure of ‘just one more level’. We eventually caught up with a White Mage in her 40s, who was delighted to accept the card and help my friend complete the quest. With at least one mission accomplished, my former party leader made his excuses and logged off for the evening; his wife had just come home from work.

Then pick up with the paragraph that starts “Back to the desktop …”.

Hope you enjoyed!

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