Reflections on Gen Con 2025

This year Gen Con felt different. Some of our friends from Europe, like Thilo Graf and Stephen Yeardley, couldn’t make it across the pond, and were dearly missed.

During this Gen Con I met publishers consumed with genuine passion who spoke about forming a kind of 3rd party alliance—an effort to support one another, to create stability, and to keep the art of independent publishing alive. Most of us are not getting rich doing this, the intrinsic inspires us. Passing the torch is our raison d’être.

At AAW Games, we’ve been lucky enough to work with an incredible network: artists, cartographers, writers, editors, and designers from across the globe—people who’ve lent their talents to Paizo, Chaosium, Wizards, and countless other publishers. The tabletop industry is small, and many of us overlap. That’s why it feels more important than ever to collaborate, to lift each other up, and to keep the creative fire burning.

Games and Booth Life

Even with a smaller crew—just me and my family—we kept the booth running all day, every day. Over in the AAW Games room at the JW Marriott, we introduced two new D&D 2024 adventures: Dark Redwood Distillery (download) and Totemic Vandalism (download). These featured our new tools—AMBR Cards (Action, Move, Bonus Action, and Reaction) to help players learn the game quickly, plus character cards to replace bulky sheets. For short convention sessions, players don’t need five pages of paperwork. They need clarity and speed, and these cards gave them exactly that. We also added equipment cards, so players could mix and match gear in ways that created surprising, often fun results.

Watching people dive into those adventures, seeing their excitement and hearing their feedback, reminded me why we do this. The games were full, the energy high, and despite our skeleton crew, both the booth and the game room thrived.

Behind the Curtain

Gen Con isn’t just about what you see on the floor. Behind the scenes, setup is grueling. The air conditioning is shut off in the convention center while exhibitors work, so you strip down to the bare minimum and sweat through hours of hauling boxes, building displays, and arranging product. Big companies like Paizo fly their staff out nearly a week early. Small publishers like us usually have just a day or two. This year, we arrived Tuesday, worked into the night, and spent all of Wednesday setting up to be ready for Thursday’s opening.

In those back hallways you run into the crews from Fern (the company that provides a lot of the convention infrastructure) and the Indiana Convention Center staff. They’re everywhere—hauling, fixing, sweeping, checking badges, emptying trash. They’re the invisible backbone of Gen Con, often overlooked simply because there’s so much happening.

This year, I had a moment that reminded me how important it is to see every single person. While hauling cardboard to recycling, I got lost in the back corridors and met a staffer named Leo. We walked together, talking about our work, family, and the relief of finishing a long shift. Later that day, I spotted him pushing a garbage can past our booth. I called out his name and waved to him, honestly happy to see him. His face lit up—he smiled, waved, and kept smiling long after he passed. It was a small thing, but it reminded me: every role matters. From hotel cleaners to food servers to security guards, everyone is part of making Gen Con possible. And everyone deserves to be seen and appreciated.

Fun After Hours

Of course, Gen Con isn’t all work. In between booth duty and the games room, I managed to sneak in some fun. One highlight was running an alpha playtest of Drow Borg, our new RPG coming to Kickstarter. Sharing beers with friends and fans while testing out mechanics was a thrill—especially watching Claire Stricklin end a session in spectacular fashion by hurling a sack of potions at a weakened avatar of Naraneus, the spider goddess. It worked. The table roared. That’s the magic of playtesting.

After the exhibit hall closed for good, we capped the weekend with friends: Stephen Beasley of SD Games, his friend Jan the painter, Claire (a.k.a. Dr. DM), and others. We started at Rye Bar with a beer and a game of Women Are Werewolves—and the creators of the game happened to walk in, snapping photos and grinning at the joy of seeing their game played “in the wild.”

From there we tried for duckpin bowling (closed, sadly), so we drifted to The Bar in Fountain Square, a place where everyone feels welcome. James Brown demanded attention from the speakers while we played pool—and I learned Claire is hands-down the best pool player I’ve ever met. Next came Bluebeard’s for an absolutely delicious late-night dinner. And just when we thought the night was over, we ran into Ginny Di. After this, beers in hand, we spent over an hour talking about life, the gaming community, and the status quo.

These are the kinds of moments that make Gen Con unforgettable. Yes, it’s about the games. But more than that, it’s about the people—the friends, fans, staff, and strangers who together make this the unique, electric experience that it is.

Looking Ahead

Gen Con always ends bittersweet. The exhaustion, the laughter, the stories—they’re all over too soon. But they leave behind an energy that pushes me back to my home table, eager to keep playing. Since coming home, we’ve already run Achtung! Cthulhu and have plans for Dungeon Crawl Classics and Shadowdark followed by some 5E.

I miss my European friends, but was grateful to connect with my crew and new people, and I’ll miss Indianapolis until next year. But 2025 reminded me of the resilience of this community—publishers, players, fans, and workers alike. Gen Con is a massive collaboration, one that only works because of every single person involved. I’m grateful for them all, and I can’t wait to see what 2026 brings.

Until next time.