That little Kermit-thingy below (I'm Kermit! It so makes sense! I'm a green frog!) seems to have messed up the format of my journal, and "incompetient" [sic] as I am, I'm quite unable to fix it. Code, in any shape or form, is waaay beyond my limited intellect.

The last three days I've been mostly doing some really interesting design work. But, ack, can't talk about it! Nyaaagh! Grrr. No, it's not for Anarchy Online. I'm still working on AO, of course - in fact, I've just received the latest build of the new NPC dialogue construction tool, which enables us to do something that should've been in the game from day one: Interesting NPC interaction. Kudos to Bjørn Arve Lagim - musician-slash-designer - who's been in charge of the project. I think this is something you'll all appreciate, though I can't let you in on the specifics (yet), nor when it's due to be implemented in the game. Of course, I've talked about it before, and it's been an ongoing project, transferring the story into the game, and this is a major part of that.

Listening to Radiohead's "Kid A" (great album), and looking forward to the weekend - in a terribly geeky way - as I just got a bunch of new games: Eternal Darkness and Resident Evil on the GameCube; and Stuntman and Wipeout Fusion on the PS2.

(I'm even seriously contemplating sacrificing an evening out with a bunch of people from work just to go home and play!)

I have got to get around to some reader mail later today, because it's been piling up, and that's not good. I'll try and post a few things before I go to the gym - in about an hour and a half - so check back later.  ¶ 16:29   

  People listen. That's great. But I realise that, every time I talk about The Longest Journey, it's something that a lot of you pick up on, and react to, and mostly get upset about - simply because the news haven't been good. So I've decided to take a step back and explain what's happened with TLJ, what's currently happening with TLJ, and what will/might/won't happen with TLJ.

TLJ has sold more than 400,000 copies across the globe. That's pretty damn good. It means that well over one million people (!) have played the game - probably even more - and we actually made a decent profit. Amazingly enough. After all, adventures don't sell...do they? The game is still selling quite well, enough to stay on store shelves, but very soon it won't be - at least not in North America, where stock is running out, and where there won't be any more boxes. Why? Because it's too expensive to manufacture a 4-CD game, that's why. If it'd been on one CD - or DVDs had actually become a standard medium for PC software - there wouldn't be a problem. But the expense incurred by 4 CDs, a manual, and a nice box is simply too high for a small publisher like Funcom. In countries like Spain - where TLJ has been a huge success, and has been rereleased in a budget version - and the UK - where the game flopped (because of the horrible, horrible work by the local publisher), but was still released in a budget version - the game will remain on the shelves for the time being, until it sells out and the local publishers decide not to produce any more copies.

There's one thing I want to point out: everyone at Funcom loves TLJ. We're all proud of it, of the work we did and the success it's had. If it was purely an emotional decision, we'd start working on the sequel tomorrow. Problem is, Funcom is a business. It has to make money, because otherwise there won't be a Funcom, lots of people will be out of a job, and you can just wave bye-bye to any possibility of a sequel...ever. Right now, Funcom is very dependent on Anarchy Online to make a profit. And Funcom also wants to focus on the online market, because that's our niche now, that's where we can excel and make great games and get enough cash to make more online games...and so on. Keeping the wheel turning, as it were. Hopefully, Funcom will stay around for a long, long time.

So if it was an emotional decision, if it was solely based on what we'd love to do, we'd put together a team and make TLJ2. Honest.

Why isn't that going to happen? It might. At some point in the future, it might. I can't know for sure. I just know that it won't happen in the next 2 years. After that, it all depends on how well Funcom has done with AO and other games, how much interest there is in a TLJ sequel, and how we'd be able to make money from it. That last point sounds heartless and greedy, I know, but the fact is we're working in a commercial industry, and if we don't make money from our games, we'll go bust. TLJ - the first one - was a labour of love, but it was also an investment. We wouldn't have done it if we hadn't thought it'd be a success. I always believed it would sell hundreds of thousands of copies, and I was right. So it's not just an artistic decision, or a decision based on what we'd love to do - we'd have to be pretty sure that it would sell enough to justify the development cost.

There's another factor to this as well. A sequel to TLJ is pretty dependent on my involvement. Not because I'm irreplacable, but because I'm the only one who knows the story - or the stories (there are a bunch of 'em). And everyone knows that the story is critical to TLJ. So if I'm working at the local supermarket in 2 years, I can pretty much guarantee you that you won't be seeing April again. On the other hand, if I - through pure luck - can put together another game which becomes a big success and gets glowing reviews, then I'll be in a better place to suggest that maybe, just maybe, we should make that sequel (or prequel) to TLJ.

So there's still a chance. There's always hope. Don't hold your breath, because I guarantee you that you'll suffocate, but don't stop hoping, wishing, and talking about it. Because if no one remembers TLJ 2 or 3 years from now, there won't be any point to a sequel. There really won't be.

I'm still trying to come up with alternative solutions, if that's any comfort. I can't tell you exactly what that is, but I did make a promise when the game was released that the story would continue, eventually. It will. I won't leave you all hanging forever, promise. But I can't promise another adventure-game. I don't have five million dollars on my bank-account right now. But stick with me. Inbetween everything else, TLJ is on my mind, and I won't abandon it.  ¶ 00:53   

 

	You are Kermit! Though you're technically the star, you're pretty mellow and don't mind letting others share the spotlight. You are also something of a dreamer.
Take the What Muppet Are You? Quiz!

  ¶ 17:56   

  I'm guessing most of you have heard about the recent cuts and layoffs at Funcom, and some of you probably think that this spells Gloom & Doom for Anarchy Online, The Longest Journey, and any and all future games on the drawing board.

Nope.

Fact is, we're plowing on in blatant disregard of naysayers (as always). Keep in mind that not a single person from the production department - the boys and gir- uh, boys making the games - was put out to graze. We've lost some good people in other departments, but we're placing the focus squarely on development, because that's what matters the most.

What does this mean? It means that production on AO continues as planned and promised. There are no major changes aside from the ones made on a continuous basis to benefit the players and ensure that we deliver quality content within an acceptable timeframe. It also means that, at some point, we'll kickstart development on our second-generation MMO.

And, yes, this still means that there will be no sequel to TLJ. At least not in the traditional sense, and probably not in any sense. Sucks, doesn't it? But think about it this way: We'll create other worlds for you to explore. New worlds. Exciting worlds. Not Stark, not Arcadia, but something fresh and original and unlike anything you've seen before. Everything has an upside...and this is it.

I feel like I should say something pithy in closing, but I can't think of anything pithy. Pith don't grow on trees. So you'll have to settle for this:

"It just tastes better!"

Yes.  ¶ 10:49   

  ...and for those of you who did check back on Friday, as requested - good for you! Your diligence has been noted. You will receive a Certificate of Due Diligence in the mail soon, with the words 'Due Diligence' written in large, bold letters, and a gold star as well. Yes.

Last week? Hectic. Busy. Tiring. From good fun to not a whole lot of fun in the span of two days.

This week? Pretty tough so far. It will get better. But it'll take a few days for things to settle down.

What else? I had one of Those Moments: I just read an article on CNN.com about how, supposedly, nuts are good for you, whilst eating nuts. There was perfect symmetry. I feel enlightened. Balance is achieved.

There's been some reader mail in the past week that I haven't gotten around to yet, but I will. I'm generally being berated for my negativity and bitterness, and that's a good thing. Otherwise I would've been very, very cross with all of you. And you wouldn't like me when I'm-- oh, whatever.

And in totally pointless and uninteresting news: I switched my cable-TV service to a digital cable-TV service on Saturday (oooh! aaah!), which means that I now have a funky new digital receiver thingy, slightly clearer picture (but more compression blockiness), and a couple of "new" TV channels (no one in their right mind would call CNN "new", but I didn't get it on the analogue service, so there you go). More gadgets to take up space under the telly, and that's never a bad thing. It came with a funky remote, but it's shiny, so there you go (huh?). The best thing is, whenever you switch to a channel, it'll tell you what you're watching (less thinking!), how long it's on for (less planning!), and what's up next (less chance I'll ever turn the damn thing off!). I actually don't watch a lot of TV - I get my shows on watch-whenever-I've-got-the-time VCD - but now it'll look cooler when I do watch TV. And, like I said, more gadgets! More on this amazing new possession when there's something to report...like, for example, does it toast bread? Probably. It probably does.

Adios. More later.  ¶ 16:44   

  It's been - and will continue to be - an extremely busy week, so please bear with me! Check back on Friday for a bunch of updates, and more on that whole TLJ-situation. If there's anything to add, I'll add it. And I'll get around to all the reader mail, promise. In the meantime, send me some warm thoughts these next few days; I'll probably need 'em.  ¶ 23:02   

  Hullo.

It's Thursday, which is usually a good day, because there are no scheduled meetings, no gym, and nothing to watch on TV, which means that I can improvise. It's also one day away from the end of the week. These so-called "week-ends" are often brilliant opportunities to do all the things you never have time to do - including the boring things you never have time to do, like laundry, dishes, vacuum-cleaning, and feeding the cat - and all the things you've been saving up specifically for the "week-end": Eating the candy, for example, or dressing down (in my case, that means discarding the jeans and the "tee-shirt", and making do with boxers and, uh, boxers), or playing interactive video games. The latter activity can be a joyful one, filled with laughter and much gayness. Not the type of gayness involving sexual proclivity, of course, but a wholesome, boyish (huh?), old-fashioned, God-fearing gayness. The sort of gayness resulting in broad smiles and red cheeks and good companionship and...no, this is not going very well, is it? I'm trying to be G (my preteen demographic is waaay down), and yet it's coming out all NC-17. Not good. Not good at all.

Today I'll be mostly writing NPC stories.

NPCs are non-player characters, little computer people that run around (or stand still, mostly; in fact, they hardly ever do anything at all) and that the player can chat with (in theory; in fact, the player can chat and the NPC can go "I don't understand what the f*** you're talking about, guy!"). But they will have more to chat about, oh yes, much, much more. In fact, they'll have so much to chat about to people will genuflect in front of them, cower in fear and awe, and worship the NPCs as godlike beings. Yes.

Saw Panic Room the other night. And even though I was pretty sure about how it would all end, I couldn't help being drawn in and getting worked up and all sweaty (ugh) from watching it. It's a tense little story, wonderfully directed and acted, and while not up there with Fincher's best work (Fight Club! Se7en! The Game!), it's still a minor half-gem, certainly worth catching and watching with a good friend (preferably one you can grope; but then, isn't that always the case?) and a bucket of buttery, salty popcorn. Mmm, popcorn. Ahhh...  ¶ 14:42   

  I realise that the previous posting makes me sound quite bitter, and while that may be true at times - some days I do feel a little bitter - it's not an indication of how I feel in general. In general, things are okay. They're not great, they're not terrible - they're okay. I'm not about to retract any of the statements below, because it's all true: it is tough to get anything going, and it is very frustrating to be where I'm at right now and feel completely powerless and utterly useless.

In theory, I have two jobs. Job one: I'm a writer and designer. That's what I do on a daily basis. I write story articles, I update the story Bible, I put together story elements for upcoming story content, I create story-based NPC designs and dialogue, and I answer story-related e-mails. I also design things that will - hopefully - make it into the game, either through the expansion pack, or through patches - like the first concept for a revised character creation, the initial design for Jobe, and some other stuff that I can't talk about yet. With this job, I'm a part of the AO team, and I answer to the game director. I'm not a lead. I don't tell anyone what to do.

My second job - in theory, mind - is being the creative director of Funcom. This is a management position, sort of. I say "sort of", because there's no real management-level authority or mandate. I have the opportunity to give input on certain issues - creative ones - and I'm able to bring certain topics to the table - again, creative ones - for consideration. This is a good thing. A long time ago, I argued that there was little to no concern for creative issues (and by creative, I mean game-related content, quality issues, game-play, the presentation of our "products" both internally and to the public...in other words, that whole developer-thing) in the decision-making process, and no one to speak on the behalf of the designers and the players. Thus, the role of the creative director was born, and I was it. Formally, though, there's never really been a creative director position; and while this role was initially supposed to encompass the work of the individual game directors - the vision-bearers and creative leads on each project - that's never been the case; partly because there's only been one project for some time now, and partly because I haven't done a good enough job pushing for more formalised responsibilities.

Who, then, ensures that there's a focus on the game, on quality and content, in the decision-making process? Fortunately, there are other individuals with more power, more authority, who care about game-play and quality control in the management structure, and, fortunately, the Funcom hierarchy isn't as strict as it is in other, comparable companies. The "regular employee" can speak up and be listened to. That's pretty rare, to be honest. Funcom isn't a "flat" organisation; it's not a democracy. But it is a place where initiative, spirit, intelligence, and talent bring you further than titles or how long you've worked for the company.

It's about "what are you doing now?" rather than "what have you done before?". Experience counts, but not as much as what you contribute to the company today.

That's good, in general. Like I said in my previous posting, it can be an unfortunate thing as well, when no matter what you've done, what you've accomplished, you're back to square one when it's time to start anew.

So, two jobs: one contributing a tiny bit - not enough, but doing my best - to Funcom's most important project ever; the other a largely ineffective, but well-intentioned, addition to the management structure. It's a noble ideal, protecting the visionary aspect of game development. But it's one that often falls victim to circumstances, not the least of which is an inability to effectuate change; to actually carry through on idealistic issues, to institute a policy. My fault? At least partly, yes, absolutely.

What to do about it? Everything boils down to one thing, all my concerns and worries and complaints and hopes: My desire to make a game. It's as simple as that. I don't know what your passions are, those of you who read through all this, but I'm certain that, at one point or another in your life, you've felt as though your dreams and ambitions have been restrained by mundane practicalities, or by other people, or by circumstances; that you haven't been able to do the thing you most want to do, even when it's your job, even when it's your life (as game-development and writing is to me). I'm sure most of you can sympathise with the sentiments, if not my apparent bitterness.

Trust me; it ain't bitterness. It's frustration. It's frustration on behalf of myself, and on behalf of the gamers out there. Because the greatest joy is in creating something that people eventually get to play and comment on and criticise and love and hate. Nothing beats that. Nothing. And to be denied that whole process, that whole creative loop...that really does suck. Big time.  ¶ 13:22   

  In this business - in any creative business - it's very hard to actually get a project going. Even when you have a proven track record, even when you've been an important contributor to a certified hit, you're often back to square one when it's time to start something new. There are some major exceptions, of course; Miyamoto, Spielberg, Molyneux, Lucas, Spector, Whedon - these guys don't necessarily need to cross a lot of hurdles when they're putting together a new project. After all, in combined revenues, their games and movies and TV-shows have amassed enough cash to buy a galaxy far, far away.

But not everyone can be them. In fact, only they can, um, be them. Stands to reason, right?

Take me, for example (since this happens to be my website, it's a fair case). I'm not exactly a Miyamoto or a Spector. I've worked in the games industry for nine years (approximately), and I've only two games to my credit: Casper and The Longest Journey. I've worked on a bunch more - including The Snow Arrow (my first job; it limped to a sad but inevitable death eight years ago), Anarchy Online (which I'm still working on), and, ugh, Dragonheart (probably the worst game in the history of ever) - but Casper and TLJ are the only two games I feel I can take any credit for. Luckily, they were both big successes: in the case of the former, this was due more to the enduring (and incomprehensible) appeal of the character (a dead little boy, grotesquely enough) than any particular skills on my part. In the case of the latter, I was blessed with an incredibly talented team of artists, programmers, audio designers, and voice actors who made my job much, much easier. Also, with TLJ, management and marketing left us alone. Which can be a Very Good Thing.

TLJ was completed in November 1999. The very next day, I started pitching a game called Miracle - an MMO that I'd been thinking about, and working on, for many, many months. In addition to Miracle, I also had the plot for a TLJ sequel and prequel ready to go, as well as a bunch of other ideas and concepts for games, both online and single-player.

Ideas are cheap. This is an important fact to remember. Any game designer has a hundred Good Ideas in his or her head, ready to pitch at a moment's notice, like some fancy, automatic pitching-machine. Turn us on and we start selling. We're like some zombie army of sales-pitchers. Ahem. Now, the hard part is transforming that idea, any idea, into a full design, and making a playable game from that design. That's what separates a skilled and experienced designer from someone off the street with a Brilliant Idea - transforming a dream into reality. And that ain't as easy as it looks, boys and girls. It's actually very, very hard, which is why so many games turn out to be a terrible waste of time. The idea may have been good, but the implementation wasn't.

So, yes, plenty of ideas, but also - I think - a proven track-record for turning Ideas into Games. That's where I was at, two and a half years ago. Rearing to go with any of a dozen Good Ideas. Inspired by the completion of one game, in good shape, ready to invest another two to three years deep in the trenches of development.

Fast forward one year, to spring 2001, and I'm working as game director - the vision-bearer and creative lead - on Midgard. Not one of the projects I've been carrying around in my head, but a good place to be, a great game, a great team.

Fast forward another year - bang! - spring 2002. Midgard has been put on hold, and I'm mostly doing AO writing tasks, story stuff, NPC dialogue, design jobs, marketing, whatever's needed, wherever it is needed. Lack of resources and a general uncertainty about how to carry through on the storyline means that the work, at times, can be frustrating. Still enjoying myself, still getting things done, participating and contributing together with everyone else at Funcom. But, of course - no secret - waiting, itching, to start working on my next project, because, hey, that's what we live for. Our own babies, our own creations. No matter how cool AO may be, how important it is, it's still someone else's game; I still have to follow someone else's rules, even when I don't agree with them.

Summer 2002. Now. Today. This minute. Still waiting. And working. The AO story is slowly being integrated into other parts of the game, assigned to other people on the design and events teams, and that's a good thing. It may mean that the players, finally, will get what they've asked for, what they've been promised, what they deserve. We'll see.

Still waiting. I'd like to make a game. I've been waiting for two and a half years. Still waiting.

It's hard to get a project going, no matter who you are and who you're working with. It's hard, because in this business - like most other creative businesses - projects are expensive to put together. They take a lot of time, they require a lot of skilled professionals, and they cost a lot, a lot, of money. Investors and share-holders and executives are afraid to commit to anything, because they don't like risks. Risks mean that there might not be a payoff, and that's a frightening prospect, understandably enough.

But what does this do to the people responsible for coming up with ideas and turning them into games? It's frustrating. It's bloody frustrating. Even when you have something to show for, it means very little in the long run. And when months turn into years, it's no longer a question of "what have you done?", but increasingly of "what have you done lately?". And lately, there's been no "lately". There's a limit to how long you can live off past successes when that past is slipping below the horizon behind you.

And by "you" I do mean, of course, "me".

Naturally, I use TLJ to leverage my own position. If that's what it takes to get a project moving, then that's what I'll do. I want to create more games, and I think people will want to play them when they're done. I'm arrogant in that way. It's what I do for a living. Although I'm not really sure what I do for a living anymore, because it sure ain't making games.

Yes, it's a little pathetic to whine about it. After all, I have a job, right? I get paid for working with games, and a lot of people would kill to be able to do what I do, to work where I work. Fact? Probably. But there's a difference. I've worked in this business for nine years. I've created hits, and I've learned the craft. I've paid my dues, if that's the right word to use. You'd think that would mean I'd be able to put together a project, get it rolling, and create a great game for people out there to play and enjoy. Yes?

Still waiting.

(And if you're waiting for a sequel to TLJ, don't hold your breath. Seriously. I'll be honest with you: even if that was my first choice for my next game, it still wouldn't happen. Not now. Not bloody likely. The only way a TLJ2 will ever see the light of day is if Funcom suddenly starts making loads and loads of money, and simultaneously changes its strategy to encompass single-player games. Or, alternatively, they could sell the license to someone else and let them carry on the legacy. Because Funcom's future, boys and girls, is online only. Sad? Sure. I'd love to see a sequel. But I'd be happy to work on any game of my own creation right now. Ack!)  ¶ 11:34   

  Still hot.

No, just this once I'm not talking about myself (although I could be). I'm talking about the weather. The weather is still barkingly hot. It's so hot that I've given up any and all attempts to be productive. Summer is great. Summer is also lazy.

I know that it's exceedingly boring to talk about the weather, but this week's been so thoroughly hot that I can't not talk about it. It defies omission. It crushes all other topics of conversation beneath its sun-browned feet. It has become the sum of our existence; a constantly nagging fact, reinforced by the enormous, glowing thingy hanging right above our heads, due south. Yes.

So it's hot. We've established that. It's murder to work. We've established that, too. This is a time for cool gardens, refreshing fluids, and loose-fitting clothing. And salads for dinner. It's not a time for hot coffee, steak-and-kidney pie, jeans, and boots. Also, it's hot. Yes.

My upstairs neighbour is excessively noisy. He goes to bed too late, and rises too early. He's an aggressive walker, and when he traverses his apartment, the floor shakes. Also, he plays the bass. You know, the biggest damn string instrument in a symphonic orchestra. Size of a whale. Sounds like one, too. In fact, it sounds like the Barry White of whales. And deep sounds travel down, down through the walls and into my spinal column. I'm dreading that one day he might discover the Brown Noise. So when my neighbour is up and about, it's quite, quite impossible to sleep. I'm getting less and less of that every night. This makes me grumpy. Added to my pre-existent grouchiness, I've turned into Mr. Burns. Only much, much younger, and a great deal more attractive. I hope.

TGIF. You know, because of that weather-thing. Yes.  ¶ 12:47   

  I liked this one:

"dear sir, you have read dune too many times. it may be fortunate that frank herbert has long since passed beyond..."

While I'm not certain that 'fortunate' is the right word to use, I am certain that I've only read Dune once, and, like most everyone else, I enjoyed it immensely. If this reader is implying that Anarchy Online resembles Dune in some ways, he's probably right. The genesis of AO was definitely in part inspired by - amongst other literary works, films, television series, comic books, myths and legends - Frank Herbert's novel. No one's claiming that the general setting is hugely original or groundbreaking. But there's thought behind it, there's an extensive history, there are many original elements, fresh twists and turns, and how the setting is used is more important than what the setting is. Besides, we haven't revealed everything yet, not by a long shot. Yes, Rubi-Ka is a planet with lots and lots of desert, and yes, notum is an important element unique to Rubi-Ka. But that's about as far as the Dune similarities go, in my opinion. I may be wrong. Maybe we just copied everything, and tried to pass it off as an original creation. I mean, who reads books anymore? Huh?  ¶ 18:18   

  I love Disneyland. I really, really do. I'm not an adrenalin-freak - I get excitement enough watching the latest episode of 24 - and so the relatively gentle nature of Disneyland's rides appeals to my (not so) inner child. Space Mountain is the most extreme ride the park has to offer, and it's not very, but it's just about sets my limit for roller-coasters. Yup, I hate flying, too. Anyways, here's a snapshot of myself and two colleagues in the midst of one of the ride's numerous dark dips and invisible turns. Yes, I look goofy. You would, too, when you're travelling at what feels like 819 mph in almost total darkness:



Just so you know, that's me in the bottom left corner, Jorgen - Anarchy Online's product manager - next to me, and Ulf - Funcom's marketing coordinator - behind us.  ¶ 13:14   

  Yea, yea, I didn't post nuffin' yesterday, but the day was packed and I was beat, so gimme a break. Today, I'm just awfully, awfully sleepy. Fifteen minutes ago, I almost fell asleep with my head on the keyboard. Scary.

At least there's little reason to miss California right now. Oslo's hotter than L.A., the sun's beating down, and it's a real nightmare trying to work without air-conditioning. The window's wide open, but it's not helping: The heat is tyrannical. Phew. (Of course, Californian girls are hard to beat, the food's cheaper, people are nicer, shopping is a lot more fun, and the cinemas sport subzero temperatures, so, to be honest, L.A.'s got the upper hand by a good margin.)

Coupla things going on right now. I just started working on the non-player characters (i.e. the people you meet on Rubi-Ka who aren't controlled by other players) in Anarchy Online. We're rewriting most of the dialogue, and adding a lot of information about the planet and its history and current events - partly to move more of the story into the game, partly to compensate for the fact that a lot of the NPCs currently in the game are just dull. Deadly dull. And dumb. The plan is also to update the NPCs on a regular basis, to include recent events and changes in the game-world. It's an ambitious project - headed by the multi-talented Bjørn Arve Lagim, also responsible for the kick-ass music in both The Longest Journey and AO - which ties into an upcoming interface-modification related to NPC chat. It'll be a while before these changes take effect, but keep posted; there's much more to come.

Aside from that, we're also approaching an important deadline in regards to what's next for Funcom. A lot of people keep asking me what's up with Midgard, an MMO (Massively Multiplayer Online) game we started working on a good while back. In fact, that question popped up during several Shadowlands presentations at this year's E3. Midgard was put on hold back in September, so that we could focus our attentions exclusively on AO (and it's a good thing we did, because AO was in desperate need of some good lovin'). Things have changed and settled down, however, and with the huge AO team now split between the expansion pack and patches, it's time to think about the future. Like I told journalists at E3, by the end of the summer we'll hopefully be able to make a decision about Midgard. Don't worry, though: Anarchy Online, the expansion pack, and the live updates will remain our number one focus for the conceivable future, no matter what happens.

Oh, and it's finally looking as though the revised and updated TLJ site will go live soon. Yay us. I'll post a notice when that happens.

...and there's more. But it'll have to wait. There's pressing business to be done. And I still plan to post an account of my oh-so-exciting trip to SoCal later this week. With pictures! Crazy!  ¶ 15:42   

  It's well past 2 A.M., and I'm having a serious case of jetlag-slash-the-blues-slash-simple-insomnia. Returning to work tomorrow for the first time in two weeks (not counting E3), and there's tons of stuff to dig into, but I...still...can't...sleep! Ack!

(Another contributing factor to my sleeplessness may be that my wallet. my preciousss, is AWOL, and I'm oh-so worried about all my credit cards, but I don't want to cancel them: I think my brother "stole" the wallet (inadvertently; it looks similar to his wallet - he's not, for the record, a kleptomaniac), but I can't get a hold of him to find out. He, too, is AWOL. AWOL is a very, very useful word in these circumstances.)

The cat is staring at me. I thought I should mention that. Cats are prone to staring.

Okay, I will make another concerted effort at sleeping. Right now. Wish me luck.  ¶ 02:23   

  I'm back, baby, and I'm...really, really tired.

I actually returned the day before yesterday (I think; time becomes very flexible when you travel in the opposite direction of the sun), and I'm unusually lagged. Probably because I slept almost all the way from L.A. to London, something I never do. I watched one movie in its entirety - Kate & Leopold, blah - and then five minutes into the next one - The Last Castle - I basically passed out and woke up an hour and a half before landing. I remember waking up and falling asleep again regularly throughout the 'night', but little else. Funnily enough, I didn't have any trouble sleeping Thursday night, but then I spent most of Friday in bed, and last night was a chore.

Anyways. Enough of my somnolent night-(and day-)time activities.

The trip. I'll get around to the trip. Not right now, though. I've dropped by the office to check on my mail (oh...my...God - there's no end to the junk. I've been marked by e-marketeers everywhere, and they're gunning for me; I've never seen so many offers for Viagra and penis-enlargement in my life), and I intend to get out of here in a few minutes. It appears as though the good weather followed us back from California, because while Oslo has had a miserably cold and wet week, today was - still is - a beautiful and warm, sunny Saturday.

Suffice it to say, the trip was, in general, quite awesome. I wish we could have stayed another two weeks. But it's good to be back. There's work to be done.

Check back on Monday for tons of updates on what happened at E3, in L.A., and elsewhere. Hopefully, I'll have some pictures up as well. It'll be fun. Promise. Have a great weekend!  ¶ 20:54