Hobbying in the Cracks – A Real Life Update
Balancing Content and Life After the Move
So, let’s address the obvious—I haven’t published a “This Week in Hating Dice” in over a month.
This series was always supposed to be my content pillar. If I’m using the proper lingo, it was the foundation: something approachable, consistent, and forgiving. The goal was to get me back into writing without the pressure of perfection. I could ramble a bit, be looser with format, and just... write.
That worked at first. The excitement of getting back into Necromunda made it easy to generate content quickly. But as I went deeper, I realized the campaign reports were starting to take over. So, I spun those off into their own series, and Out of the Bitz Box was born to give me room for longer-form opinion pieces. That split helped me stretch creatively—but it also pulled focus from this weekly reflection.
Quarter One Recap – DiceHate Reawakens
If I zoom out, though, the year has already been massive. I published my first real article in years at the end of January. Since then, DiceHate has been steadily rebuilding. I’ve launched new article series, reconnected with a community that somehow stuck around through my hiatus, and started making content that I’m genuinely proud of again.
On a personal level, the move to the UK has been all-consuming. Evie’s now in school. Gillian and I are applying for jobs (okay, I’ve only applied for one so far—but I aimed high). We’re slowly shaping a new routine.
But the change in physical space has been jarring. In Canada, I had a basement. My own creative bunker where I could record late into the night without guilt. Now, the computer’s in the bedroom. Any kind of video setup has to live in the kitchen/dining room—between meals, kids, and laundry. There’s no soundproofing. No door to close. It’s a whole new rhythm, and I’m still trying to find my beat.
And if I’m honest, just figuring out where everything goes—both physically and emotionally—has been exhausting. There's a kind of mental tax that comes with reconfiguring your life around new constraints, especially when those constraints feel like they're pressing in from all sides.
Taking stock—literally. Inventorying my SWU cards before they move on to a more active home.
It’s Not All Doom and Gloom
The good news? I’ve found clubs. Actual, real-life, local game groups. Three of them, in fact:
Wigan Tabletop Games Club – A great mix of miniatures and board games. Friendly folks. Solid vibes.
Wardens of the North – The closest club geographically, with a heavy Warhammer 40K and Age of Sigmar focus. Might finally be time to dust off the Blightkings.
Wigan Pies & Dice – Monday night board games that I keep just missing, but they seem like a fun crowd.
I even made the pilgrimage to Element Games in Stockport last weekend. That place is buzzing. They’ve got active communities for almost every modern system under the sun, and the attached North West Gaming Centre is a serious venue. If I’m willing to make the 45-minute drive, it opens up the whole hobby again.
Although... 45 minutes feels different here.
In Canada, I thought nothing of driving 35–55 minutes into Calgary to hit up Ogre’s Den or The Sentry Box. That was just what you did. Even driving to Red Deer or Edmonton—2 or 3 hours—was a “special trip,” not a big deal.
Now? A 45-minute drive feels like an expedition. I’m mentally packing snacks. Downloading podcasts. Making contingency plans. And this is despite living in a country that’s actually smaller! It’s funny how fast the UK mindset creeps in.
Is this heaven? No, it’s Element Games. I only bought the paints that I went in for, honest…
The “New Player” Feeling
There’s another layer too: that weird sense of being “the new guy.”
In Canada, gaming was literally my job - I helped organize leagues, built communities, worked events. I knew the rules, the formats, the politics. Even when I wasn’t feeling it, when work called for it, I could be performative, I was “the guy from DiceHate” or “that X-Wing TO.”
Now, I’m just Kris. Some bloke with a few painted models and a rather large pile of shame. I don’t know the group dynamics. I don’t know who runs what. I don’t have “my table” yet. And while that’s exciting—it’s a fresh start—it’s also anxiety-inducing as hell.
Reintroducing yourself to a hobby community is strange. There's this internal pressure to be interesting, or useful, or at the very least not awkward. But I’m also just tired. The move, the job search, the constant need to keep everything afloat—it’s a lot.
Without that clear identity as a community leader, or that pressure to be the constant that other people are relying upon, I’m back to figuring out how I fit into someone else’s structure.
That’s not a bad thing. It’s just unfamiliar.
As I follow the advice I have given out many times, “If you want to play a miniatures game, Play 40k” a wild Kill Rig appears. Step one of building out my WAAAGH!: I am sure we will see more of this soon...
Content in the Cracks
The reality is, content creation is happening in the cracks now. When the house is quiet. When the kids are asleep. When there’s no clutter in the kitchen or noise in the hall.
That’s part of why this article got delayed. And while I hated missing my own deadline, I’ve made peace with it.
In that time, I still managed to:
Publish two other articles while traveling.
Cover the AMG Roadmap announcements.
Do Adepticon interviews.
Not collapse entirely.
So yeah, I missed some Sundays. But I didn’t stop working.
Evie wanted to play Minecraft together again now that we are settled, so I picked up a used Xbox One S for cheap, then spent a Sunday morning cleaning it up as I am sure they found the dirtiest one they had in the store, but I think it turned out well.
Looking Forward
Now that the dust is settling (and I’ve stopped trying to force a “normal” that doesn’t exist anymore), I’m ready to realign.
I’m trying for a new cadence: articles covering Friday to Friday, rather than trying to squeeze a full week into a weekend rush. Expect a few more honest, reflective pieces like this—especially when the hobbying slows down. And expect more experiments as I figure out what this version of DiceHate looks like.
The goal hasn’t changed: build cool things, write good words, and stay connected to the games and people that matter. It’s just taking a little longer to get there than I hoped.
“If you’ve gone through a hobby reset of your own, I’d love to hear about it — drop a comment or find me on Discord.”
📢 Thanks for reading. If this resonated, or if you’ve ever felt the same “new player” energy after a move or a break from gaming, I’d love to hear your story. Drop a comment, join the Discord, or just share this article with a friend navigating their own return to the table.
