This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning. I’d originally saved this post for last, but I think I may keep the feature going, writing others as I am inspired to do so. Still, this was the hardest one to write:

Sara Young Hindmarch is adroit. Her photographs make me jealous. Her hand-made crafts boggle me. When she writes, she is clear and confident and funny. She sets her mind to something and she makes it happen. She embodies patience and exhibits generosity. When I waver, she is steady. She does right. She gives off light. I’d be lost in dark woods without her; I might well be dead, eaten by some grue. Would that I could learn her diligence and patience, her responsibility and dedication, we could levitate above the mud. We could craft houses and light new stars. We could feed everyone we love and fix all that ails us. Would that I could learn her ways. I promise to try.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Wil Wheaton says “don’t be a dick.” It’s a philosophy he promotes and practices. More than that, he’s an energetic creator who strives to promote positivity and enthusiasm by creating fun, funny, touching things and spreading them to his friends and fans. He’s always creating—when it’s hard, when it’s tough, when it’s easier not to, he’s always making something new to post, to share, to publish. He writes, he records, he acts, he puts himself out there and it pays off for him. I’m learning from Wil how to be funny and self-deprecating without undermining my own position, my own right to be me. I’m learning, by talking with Wil, to respect my own needs as an artist—as silly as it feels to say that—and to believe that being a mensch and treating readers right may be enough to turn good writing and hard work into success. Maybe.

And then, today, he demonstrates his enthusiasm again with this valentine to Twitter, and says it as well as I wish I could. His enthusiasm spreads and warms like good scotch. Let’s get drunk.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Dammit, Rob Donoghue, stop writing so much, so fast, so well. With compossible confidence born of reason and a deep capacity to wonder out loud, he explores gaming topics in text that I only manage to daydream about. It seems like every day he is on to some new, engaging topic that cracks open the shell of gaming and exposes new workings inside. Sometimes this is deeply frustrating — as when he writes about things that I planned to write about, beating me to the field and leaving me obsolete — but always this is inspirational. I must learn his confidence for wondering out loud, for ignoring the assholic commentators, and for thinking ahead without fear of going too far, too fast.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Is anyone more generous with his own hard-earned wisdom than Fred Hicks? If I was half as smart as Fred, I still might not be wise enough to share without fear the lessons I’d learned with the world, as Fred does. He has scouted the territory, he has hunted the wild game there, and he has brought back maps and tales not just of his successes but of his setbacks. Would that I was savvy enough to make use of more than slivers of the insight Fred shares with us online. More than that, Fred seeks to embrace what’s good in whatever he finds waiting for him in life. He doesn’t dwell on what’s ugly, and somehow in doing so he multiplies what’s good. I strive to work as hard, with as big a smile on my face, as Fred Hicks does.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Somehow, Zach North is doing it all. He’s a lawyer, at that age when TV characters who are lawyers seem too young to be lawyers. He’s a budding novelist. He’s an avid gamer. How does he find the mental wherewithal for all this? He has the rare capacity to blend a law student’s discipline with a theater major’s passion — duty with creativity — without scuffing either in the process. Best of all, though, he has a cool humility that only makes him smarter — have I ever seen someone so quick to admit what he doesn’t know, and so quick to fill in the gaps? I’d be wise to steal that bit.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

When I was young, I think I may have been smarter than I am now. For sure, I thought I was smarter then than I do now. Zack Walters and Lisa Rhoden are definitely smarter now than I was then. They’re young people, but curious, well informed, and unafraid to seek out information when they sense a gap in their knowledge. They stand on the nerd scale, balanced between gamerdom and readerdom, a foot on each pan. One cooks, the other bakes. They have a passion for cocktails that I had at their age, but have since forgotten. Which reminds me: being intelligent doesn’t just mean accumulating information, but keeping up with what, and who, is next.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Erin Grant is a bibliovore. I don’t know how she does it. I picture her tearing the pages out of books, wadding them up, and shoving them into her head through a port in the back. But of course she’s aghast at the idea of hurting books so. I wish I read as she does, with quick savvy and a myriad of colliding tastes. Where I savor and pretentiously slosh sips around in my mouth, she opens books for quick dips and hearty gulps, without losing any of the flavor, it seems. From Erin I’m learning to read without ritual, to just read, to read more, to read faster, to always be reading. And still I cannot keep up.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Craig Grant keeps his cool. I don’t know how he does it. Dislocate his shoulder and he’ll wait patiently to go to the ER. When his house broke, he just sighed and got to work. Somehow I think his capacity for calm is related to his unwavering generosity and honesty — the wires for those things all go back to the same Zen device humming somewhere in his chassis. It must be some kind of psychic gyroscope, for it keeps him balanced and true while the world around him wavers like crazy. He is steady, he works hard, he soldiers. From Craig I learn how to be the kind of person that others can count on. As he exemplifies, I glean. And I haven’t even mentioned his remarkable talents as a designer.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

Ray Fawkes taught himself to draw. He was already a cunning and capable writer, but dissatisfied with just one form of artistic success, he taught himself inks and paints so that he could make his own comics. He did this without fanfare or public ego — he was his own secret project. One day he simply debuted his new talent. Let me remember that we can tap our talents by teaching ourselves, that if we want to do something we should learn how to do it. Otherwise we are in the realms of fear or laziness.

This is part of a series of posts about people from whom I am learning:

From Kenneth Hite I am gleaning new arts of discourse, of rhetoric, of bombast and debauchery as well as mixology and mythology. Ken roams all the settlements and wilderness between legendry and pop culture. He rides the train of history with a first-class ticket — look for him in the bar car. He does not merely throw parties, he conducts soirees. He holds court. His conversation reveals cunning and shortcomings in his cohorts, usually to their betterment. His taste in mixed drinks is topped only by his taste in wives. From Ken I am learning to be captivating and worthy of invitation.