dogged

i got laid off, my dog is sick, and for most of the past month i was on deadline.

I considered for a full month whether or not I wanted to attend Pax Unplugged — the annual tabletop RPG and Board Game convention in Philly that showcases indie RPGs and emphasizes playtesting, gaming, and community experience. I was slated for two panels, one on unions in the TTRPG space (this will be the focus of another clickbaiter) and one on game design as it relates to the USAmerican South. Obviously between two financial handicaps Pax U was looking less and less likely.

Oh, I had just gotten laid off from io9. You folks know that story. To add insult to injury (or, I dunno, injury to insult) my dog had gotten a paw injury that took a month of meds and vet visits to fix. She’s fine now, but it was incredibly stressful and (despite my father helping with vet bills) still put pressure on my expenses. But I was lucky—ZigZag is on her way to recovery and we figured it out before we had to do something drastic. Please observe my very sad, but ultimately very okay dog.

dog tax!

But, despite this, I needed to be at Pax U. This is the industry I love, this is the career I’ve chosen, and I didn’t want to lose out on the opportunity to strengthen my friendships, relationships, and connections in the space. So I swallowed my pride, asked for help, and drove on down to Philly.

It was wonderful. I met up with folks I had only ever spoken to online and many more that I meet up with twice a year at conventions. The panels went well and at the union chat, we gave out a ton of literature. None of this is the point of this newsletter, but I’m bragging a little bit because this is a newsletter about being dogged.

I have lost my job; but so have 20,000 other media workers—journalists, writers, SEO professionals, researchers, editors. We’re all disposable, fed to the machine in horrible ways and churned out in ways that are ignominious, unfair, and utterly unconcerned with the work we’ve done.

During November, I kept writing, meeting with people, and making plans. I talked with editors, friends, co-conspirators. I turned in [REDACTED] and I’ve started on my next big project. I’m not leaving my career behind, I’m making it better. I’m refracting it, I am going to come back in 2024 exponentially better because fuck you, that’s why. I’m not done here!

And now, news from the coast that Hasbro has eliminated 1100 jobs, and unlike the 800-person cut earlier this year, this time Dungeons & Dragons staff were affected. I hope they all land on their feet. I hope they find better opportunities. I hope they know they didn’t deserve it. I hope they stay dogged.

As a treat, to really illustrate my point, here is a video of Zag finding roots in my backyard and going after them. Will she ever dig up the giant tree she’s fighting with? No. But she’s going to fight the good fight.

I don’t know why my dog digs up roots! I don’t know why that empty milk carton is one of her favorite toys! I don’t know who buried that metal thing next to the tree. But I do know that the dog is dogged, and so the fuck am I. 2023 was a big, massive year for me. Some of the things that happened I’m still not allowed to talk about. In 2024 I’m gonna reap what I’ve sown, and I have been tilling rich soil. I’m just hoping I don’t end up digging at roots.

So much of this year in capitalism—this year in complete corporate fuckery and rampant enshittification—proves the systems are breaking down. But there are also indications that people aren’t taking it anymore: There were two massive labor actions in Hollywood, and dozens more across the US. Dropout is profit sharing with freelancers. A group of writers co-founded Aftermath. We might be pulling at the roots of a tree that is not coming down, but we’re all working towards something better, something bigger, and we’re dogged enough not to stop. I think together we can bring down a forest.