The Board Game Dealer | IRL Update
I push cubes for a living and stories for fun.
Hey folks!
Sorry to interrupt the regularly scheduled doses of addictive fiction with this message but it’s an important one! As some of you may know, when I don’t write fiction I write copy and stuff for a board gaming studio that makes really cool games.
We’ve launched a new Kickstarter campaign today that has 2 of our games—Project L and Square One—available. These are gamer and non-gamer friendly, great for families but playable across all age groups!
In essence they’re puzzley very thinky games where you have to solve your cards with beautiful plastic pieces, to gain more pieces and points! The player with most points wins.
Project L — the one with Tetris like shapes, is more about the spatial imagination and ability to fill in the space efficiently
Square One — the one with little cubes, is about thinking ahead, taking right cards so you’re able to fill them with the tiles you have
I might sound a bit biased since I worked on these, but I never met a person who disliked playing them. If you want to know more or would want to get them (which indirectly supports the Fiction Dealer as I get to keep my job) follow through the button below:
To spare you of the fiction withdrawal symptoms. Feel free to Microdose on the word Puzzle, with 100 words! Here’s my story from last year
Jason sat in his study, whiskey in hand and dancing shadows on the wall only companions.
A wooden box on the table mocked him. It's been weeks since his father passed, leaving it behind. He didn't dare to open it.
Jason borrowed a sliver of courage from the whiskey and grabbed the box. Holding it brought back the memories of him and his dad, poring for days over puzzles.
He slid the side wall and banged the pin out, revealing a hidden compartment with a note.
The scribbled words sent tears to Jason's eyes.
"I love you J, keep solving the puzzle of life without me."
Last bit of news
There’s a good chance the Microdosings will be coming out a little slower this week, as the stress around the release has and will be high.
Thanks for being writing with me!
~Miguel
The Puzzle
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Microdose on the word Puzzle, with 100 words!
He stared at the puzzle for a long time. His eyes flicked up and down, left and right, and still no other part of him moved.
His opponent noticed the sweat pouring rivulets down his face.
The audience sensed the tension building to levels that kept raising the stakes.
Suddenly a twinge started at the corner of his mouth. The eyes pondered as the mirth became reflected in his lip movements.
His eyes flickered as his hand moved forward, then back, as he took one more look at the board with serious intentions.
“Checkmate,” he cried as his opponent wept.
Miguel, I am in the process of dissolving my household and reducing my possessions to the absolute minimum. Also I am also. So no I cannot offer pledging for the interesting games. I give you 102 words of a Puzzle instead:
100mg of a Puzzle with Trees, a Forrest and a Canyon.
A puzzle, I thought. My life is a puzzle. Missing pieces, edges torn, some parts warped from trying too hard to fit them. For years, blank spaces. Not metaphorically—truly gone. I remembered nothing. Then fragments returned, not as truth, but as echoes. The brain doesn’t store—it recreates. So each piece wasn’t found, it was born again. That’s when I knew: I’d never solve it. Never complete the image on the box I never got. I traded puzzles for forests. Got lost in trees. Then holes appeared. Real holes. And the Canyon whispered, I’m not a puzzle. I am the shape around it.