Dragon Magazine

I almost didn’t write this up. I’ve written about Dragon Magazine here before. About specific issues. About how I discovered it. The influence the idea of it has had over me. I seriously considered just linking to one of those articles or posting here what I wrote for my own version of Dragon, Yggdrasil MGZ.

I almost ran out of things to say… Which is exactly the moment when you find one more thing…

A decade ago, there was this thing called Google Plus. For a brief, bright moment, it became the hub of table top gaming discourse on the internet. Forums had begun to collapse from the weight of change on the internet and blogs were too bidirectional for esoteric discussions on what exactly did Saint Arneson mean by that phrase. Google’s afterthought became the answer.

It could have been a right time, right place sort of situation for Google. More robust than Twitter, no family members like Facebook, less incomprehensible UI like Tumblr? These things might be true, but I think there was something powerful in the way you organized people you engaged with that is something like what we have with subscribers of newsletters, but more free form.

But that is just context, not the juice.

At some point during this brief, bright romantic moment, I began writing about Dragon Magazine. Not quite reviews, not quite nostalgia. The write ups were short, targeted, and probably the most popular thing I had done on the internet up to that point, including publishing games.

Thinking about that moment in time and the fun I had talking with people about those early issues got me thinking about why this magazine has had an enduring impact on my brain.

It’s time.

Magazines are like amber catching an insect, only they catch that specific moment at a specific place in time. In a world where everything is torn down and replaced only to be torn down again, that makes them important. Something special.

More than books, they capture culture almost in the raw. A book can take years to move from idea to read by an audience. It makes them a reflection of a few years prior from when they come out.

I would be remiss in my armchair philosophizing if I didn’t also point out that these magazines were in print.

I know, I know. The world has changed. Everything is digital so our labor can be squeezed by the technocratic oligarchs like the guys who run this platform. Some folks think print is more damaging to the environment… People who don’t understand all that makes up a data center…

That discussion aside, a physical object adds to that permanence. To that capture. I may only have a few dozen physical copies these days, but there is power in these magazines that no digital version ever will have.

As a magazine. As a monthly magazine Dragon issue 113 is giving us a raw snapshot of the late summer of 1986. It is showing us the culture of gaming centered around a lake in southern Wisconsin.

If you look at the contributing credits, you discover some context around who was working there and with a little digging, how old they were. You see how they talk about games. The subjects they think people are interested in. The letters and forum column give you a picture of the audience at that moment.

The ads! My goodness the advertisements are possibly even more fascinating than the articles, because they expose you to other, related cultures. It is like meeting someone’s distant cousin and noticing that despite the accent, they both smirk a certain way.

There is something compelling and fascinating about it. So much so for me, I sometimes contemplate starting up my review of Dragon once again.

I have the files. Wouldn’t take much…

Why do I keep coming back to this magazine in particular!?!?!

Why does it have such a hold on me that I write about it. That I made my own house magazine for Torchbearer? Why do I still hunt and peck through bargain bins looking for tattered copies of something I have digitally?

This isn’t one of those moments where I have a profound answer.

This isn’t that kind of moment.

This where I end this article and go dig through my collection of print magazines.

One day I would love to make a living off my art and writing. That requires an audience. The more you share, the better my odds get.