Feedback

I tried something new last week.

At the behest of my editor, I started writing outside of my comfort zone. Whereas my old pieces were focused on a broad topic and wound their way to a point, my new article was the opposite. I had a laser point focus- a deck primer- and worked backwards. Sure, I had written articles like this before, but for whatever reason, this time it felt different. 

Was it because the deck I was presenting was one of my own creation? Maybe. Was it because I finally felt like I was making it as a writer, listening to my editor? Sure! It was all of these, and everything else. 

I was thrilled when I attached the document to my e-mail and hit send.

I waited. 

It went up.

I waited some more.

I'm hard on myself. I always feel like I can do better. At my job, I;m always asking what else I can do, feeling like there's some little extra I can give. When I'm playing a game (any game) I'm constantly reevaluating what can be done, going back and looking forward. It can be your typical paralysis by analysis, where I think so much, I fail to act properly. In writing, I am much the same way. I am not the best writer, nor am I the worst. But I like to think I am better than average. The best way for me to get better is to keep writing, but the second best way is for me to write better. How do I write better? Via feedback. 

When publishing a Magic article, you're limited in some ways. Some people will only focus on the content, not how it is written. Some will only focus on your "record," ignoring the quality of what you have to say. Sometimes, you'll get people who will take the time to agree and disagree with your points and let you know what they think. I welcome all these people because what they have to say matters. They are my audience and what they have to say can influence my writing.

I'm still waiting.

More than before, I really wanted feedback on this article. I got almost none. I had tried something new, and I wanted to know how I did. Writing is a challenge to myself, and I want to get better.

Let me tell you, the worst thing as a writer isn't negative feedback - it's the absence of anything. 

The absence means the only person giving me feedback on my work, is me. This is dangerous, as it can create a feedback loop where, if I'm not careful, I become the only person that matters. Do I think this will happen? No, but it might.

One of the writers I want to emulate generates a ton of comments, quite a few from people detracting him. He's been in the game for at least a dozen years, tripling my years as a writer and obliterating my output. His recent writing has made me envious. The way he gets feedback does the same, because for every five comments that have no substance, there is one that makes me a better writer.

If you like an article, or if you don't, let the author know. No one gets good at their craft by just repeating their mistakes. And sometimes, you need people to point them out.

Be the red pen.

"Unicorn Odyssey" - Brendan Kelly and Brian Fallon

One of my absolute favorites, and this version rips.

Jenny Owen Youngs might be my new favorite artist

Dave Hause, Brian Fallon, Brendan Kelly, Jenny Owen Youngs- "Trusty Chords (Hot Water Music)"

Personal Times with JADEDPUNKHULK

I'm sitting at my desk, drinking a coffee the size of my head, trying to figure out what to say.

Music, is an intensely personal experience. For a long time, I was one of those people who would cast judgement based upon the songs someone had on their computer. That all changed Junior year when someone very close to me said "who cares what you listen to, as long as it makes you happy?"

That stuck.

Music is still something important to me. It has given me great memories, wonderful friends, and more than one bloody lip (and one time throwing up into a biohazard bag backstage). When I started dating my girlfriend, it became clear that our music tastes did not line up, and that was okay. This is what adults do- they look past the little things for the bigger picture. But I wasn't going to stop going to shows, and wanted to introduce her to this part of my life.

Last night seemed like the perfect opportunity- singers from some of my favorite bands were playing solo acoustic sets in Brooklyn at the Knitting Factory. Perfect, I thought.

Her ride from Manhattan was far shorter than mine from Brooklyn (thanks G train) and I started the night by taking her to get tacos. We enjoyed a fantastic meal and Taco Chulo (right by the Twenty Sided Store) and made our way back over to the Knit. She met friends, and the show started.

Brendan Kelly, he who I am trying to emulate, came out and tried to introduce the show. He did so in his typical meandering stream of humorous banter. It was a perfect precursor. 

First off was Kyle Kinane, who killed. The GF doesn't enjoy stand up comedy, but Kinane had a knack for communicating to the audience. His rhythm was perfect, and the subject matter was just left enough of center to get the audience excited. 

One of the best things about acoustic shows is the quick change over time. Almost immediately after Kinane, Jenny Owen Youngs took the stage. I had done my "research" on Youngs, listening to her records on Spotify during work. I was stoked. She has some serious songwriting chops and a voice that can carry what her pen puts to paper. Songs about "doing it (her words)" and serial killers, as well as a killer cover of Nelly's "Hot in Here" made the night. Of course, then the "special guest" was introduced (Brian Fallon from Gaslight Anthem, to the surprise of absolutely no one) and they proceeded to rip through a fantastic rendition of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." The GF likes country, and pop, so these two covers were right up her alley.

Dave Hause was next up. I've never seen the Loved Ones play, but I've seen Dave play three times, and each time is better than the last. The man is a consumate showman, and always brings down the house (groan). He tore through a set filled with songs from his solo album and some of my favorite Loved Ones tracks. The GF, finally succumbing to sleep, hopped in a cab around 10pm, so I enjoyed most of this set, and the rest of the night, without her.

Sharing music, sharing that part of my life, was so important. She felt bad for leaving early, but the fact she came at all tells me she's a winner. I'm crazy for her.

Dave Hause was hysterical. A common theme of the night was the playful banter between performer and audience. Telling tour stories, Dave asked everyone to put away their "YouTube Machines" (my new favorite term for cell phone) and launched into hit after hit. Closing with Fallon and Youngs on stage with "Prague" - a mind blowing song.

The hour grew later when Brendan Kelly finally took the stage. It was two years ago when I saw his band, the Lawrence Arms, play a double bill at this same venue. At those shows, he was under the influence of something (many things?) and was hilarious in his flailing. Last night, he was far more sober and played through a fantastic set of Lawrence Arms and Wandering Birds songs. Highlights of the night, for me, include "Abracadaver," one of my favorite TLA songs, and his pre "Kiss the Bottle" rant. Seeing as my sister has been served beer by Blake from Jawbreaker at the Double Windsor, I found it hit home to hear BK talk about how he though Blake would feel about the show. When the crowd asked for "Skulls" by the Mistfits, Kelly smiled and obliged. He closed the set with a Fallon infused rendition of my favorite Falcon song- "Unicorn Odyssey."

Fallon took the stage, and played a passion filled set of plodding, persistent versions of his songs. There was no aggression, but the words still hit home. The man can sing and write, and took his new found fame in stride. The set featured some of my favorite Gaslight Anthem songs, including "1930," "Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts," and "Great Expectations."

The night closed with an encore. Of course.  Dave Hause took the lead of the entire lineup (minus Kinane) for a rendition of Hot Water Music's "Trusty Chords." Brendan was selling merch at his booth at dragged himself on stage for a rip roaring version, where only Hause knew all the words. It didn't matter that it was late and no one on stage knew the words. It was a perfect end.

This show reminded me why I love music. It was a good time, amongst friends. The people performing seemed to have  genuine admiration for each other, and a love for the fact they got to play music for people. 

Big thanks for JADEDPUNKHULK (because you have to type his name in all caps)  for putting together this show. This giant coffee is dedicated to you, and your ability to give Brooklyn a great time.

Chuck Ragan- "California Burritos"

My Grand Prix: Philadelphia

I didn't win. I made a mistake in a grinder that cost me a spot in the finals. I did not swap into a better deck when appropriate in the Grand Prix and promptly dropped at 2-3. I rushed home Sunday to beat home Hurricane Sandy.

That is the "too long; didn't read" version of my weekend for the Twitter generation. But here's the story:

Until this past weekend, I had never been to a Grand Prix. I had been moderately serious about Magic for a long time, but it is only in the past year that I have acquired a job and a life situation that allows me to travel with friends for a weekend. Philadelphia is also a prime location, being just about two hours from where I live and is a city I have visited before (once for a PTQ, twice for work). The fact that the format was Return to Ravnica limited cemented the fact in my head: I had to go to Philadelphia. Luckily, I am keyed into a fantastic gamer network centered around the Twenty Sided Store- I would not be alone. 

Even at 28, the prospect of going to such a large event alone seemed daunting. Sure, I would know people, but knowing there would be at least a dozen familiar faces eased any nerves I would have had.

Although my original hotel plans fell through, the NYC Magic Google group came through and I was set up to stay in a room with two other competitors and a judge for the event. I opted to take the floor since I have a bed roll and don't mind using it. Friday morning rolls around and I finish packing and get the call: two of my passengers, Li and Zach are here. We go to load up the car and stroll back to 7th and 9th. We spot our final party member, Connor -the judge I am staying with- and wave him over. We load up on provisions (coffee) and promptly get on our way. 

The ride down was uneventful, and full of discussions about (what else) Magic. The only disturbance (if you can call it that) was the obvious odor when we entered New Jersey.  We reach Philadelphia in under two hours, and see other 20 Siders walking towards the hotel. I roll down my window and holler, happy to see familiar faces. It takes me a while to figure out exactly how to get to the valet area, which leads to a sequence of rights and lefts around what can only be described as a traffic spiral. Finally, our bags are dropped off and we proceed to the convention center to try an earn byes.

Grand Prix are large tournaments that qualify the top four finishers for the Magic Pro Tour. Players can earn up to three byes (free wins) by holding a certain professional level or competing enough in the previous season. The day before the main event, there are feeder tournaments known as grinders that allow people to win the right to start with three free wins.

Once our party reaches the tournament site, we all go to register for Saturday. At the registration table, I run into the incredibly tall Nathan Holt, who makes the Walk the Planes videos. I make a joke about our disparate height and he chuckles. I wander the dealer booths and eventually run into Eric Klug from Klug Alters, and talk to him (at him?) briefly about Cube. I regroup with my friends and head back out to the Reading Terminal Market. This is one of the reasons to play major tournaments in Philadelphia- a huge food court of awesome options located across the street. Our mixed group scouts the location, and I opt for the Cajun stand. On the way to get my food, I run into Chris Pikula and introduce myself. I had been communicating with Chris on Twitter leading up to this event, as I live in his former neighborhood. We share a laugh, and head on our way. Once we have all acquired food, it was time to grind.

Out of the 32 people in the tournament, 7 of us came from the same store. I win my first three rounds with ease (my pool of cards was quite strong) and it was my overly aggressive play in the last game of the semi-finals that cost me a chance to play for the byes. However, I am not upset. I know I cost myself the byes, and I tell myself I will not make the same mistake in the Grand Prix.

I guess I lied to myself just a little.

Rather than sign up for another event, I opt to get dinner and wander around the convention center for a while before opting for sleep. I make my way back to the hotel and eventually pass out in my corner, excited for what Saturday would bring.

Saturday morning rolls around and I make my way to the shower in the darkness of the room, attempting to not wake anyone else up. It does not matter, as by the time Connor and I leave to get breakfast, everyone is starting to get ready. I wear my Twenty Sided Store shirt, donated by the store, and proceed to the site.

Lauren and Luis run the store, and sent down the shirts with a few regulars. They did not ask me for money, instead giving us the shirts as a way to promote their store. However, for the first time in I do not know how long, those shirts made me feel like a part of a team. It was made even cooler by the fact that one of the people I was staying with, the one who booked the room, helped to get the store started before moving to California. 

I mill about the site, seeing familiar faces. Some of them I know personally, some I recognize from Magic coverage. There is tension in the air; the tournament is about to begin, but the specter of Hurricane Sandy lingers at the back of our collective consciousness. However, they seat us and we get to start looking at the pools of cards we will be registering. Finally, we have the opportunity to get the cards we will be playing for the day. I'm seated next to Owen Turtenwald, former Player of the Year. Part of me wants to ask him to take a look, to give me advice. I know it is against the rules, but my desire to get better is kept in check by my desire to compete.

The tournament itself does not go well. I win my first two rounds, but make a mistake that costs me a game in round three. I never get a chance as my opponent easily takes game two. In rounds four and five, I play against decks that are much better than mine and proceed to resign from the tournament. But my weekend was just getting started.

After refueling on food, I start making my way around the hall. I end up grabbing friends who had been eliminated for a Cube Draft. We sit ourselves a table away from Adam Styborski. Adam is someone I count as a friend. We started chatting about Pauper Cubes almost two years ago, and have kept up communication. He tried to lure me out of semi-retirement for writing when he took over Gathering Magic, but I declined. A few weeks later, I was writing for Star City. Oh well. I show him my draft deck and he gets a devious gleam in his eye. During this time, I run into Chris Pikula again and he introduces me to other gamers from Park Slope. Small world. 

As the day draws to a close, we stop playing and start watching our friends, looking out for those who will get to come back on day two. One by one our friends are eliminated. But one makes it through. Lirek, the youngest of our group finishes his round and comes running over to us, arms in the air. He made day two.

If I take one thing away from the Grand Prix, it will be the look of happiness on Lirek's face as he got lifted into the air.

I close the night by speaking to Steve Sadin of the coverage team after he finishes his shift. Steve is a good man, and we had run into each other the weekend before the Grand Prix at a food fair. We chat about limited and New York Sports. Eventually I meander back to my friends, make plans for the next day (as Sandy is definitely going to be an issue) and eventually pass out.

Sunday comes and I once again grab breakfast with Connor. He judges, I pass time at the tournament site. I play a few games of one-on-one Commander, watch friends draft, and try to help Lirek keep his cool. Eventually I run into Nathan and Adam again, and watch them crack packs of Mirage for some free-for-all multiplayer sealed. I'm introduced to Jon, one of the writers for Gathering Magic who just finished an ambitious and epic writing project in 52 FNMs. 

I wanted to stay, but the sky was getting darker. Last year, Hurricane Irene altered my plans for moving. This year, it altered my plans for fun. 

We loaded up my car, swapped Connor (who had to stay and judge) for Tim, and headed home. Again, no problems (aside from the smell in New Jersey, and my GPS falling off the windshield) and made it home with enough time to stock up in advance of the storm.

I scrubbed out, I made mistakes, and I had an amazing time. I regret my play mistakes, but what I regret more is not making an effort to talk to some of the luminaries of the game. I guess this just means I will have to do it again at the next Grand Prix I attend.

Because I am going to go again. How could I not?