Uncovered from my Frontal lobe:
The biggest surprise I uncovered is that people are interested in this, this is something people want. Our first issue was either going to be a one-off or an annual, but the reaction from writers, readers and investors was shocking and flattering. Everyone expected a sequel and beyond. I learned that I shouldn't have called in all of my favors for the debut.

Uncovered from my Occipital Lobe:

Six months is a short time. And once you take a month break to recharge, you're down to five months. Plus, the thing has to get to the printer a month in advance if it's going to be there for the launch party. Plus, plus, plus. Point being: set your launch party date as soon as possible, and while it'll scare the bejesus out of you, it'll make things get done. Instead of getting around to it, you'll force yourself to get on with selecting fantastic stories, editing them, designing the issue and getting it off to the printer to save yourself the overnight fees of getting boxes shipped the day before your event.

Uncovered from my Temporal Lobe:

Trust the people you trust even more. Without Heather Kelley and Will Layman working out the .print kinks, it wouldn't be possible. By letting loose of my inner control freak, and leaning on the other .print staffers, something exceptional gets made. My current boss once told me: Do it different, and if you can't do it different, do it better. They ensure both things happen.

Uncovered from my Medulla:

Printers can be talked down. Don't just roll with the first estimate that rolls into your inbox.

One thing we got right:

Using David Barringer as our designer. Not only a super-fantastic fiction writer whose stories should fill everyone's bookshelf, but he's one of the most creative, inspiring, inspired designers I've ever worked with.

What are some keys to staging a good reading?
The thing about readings is people want to get their literary fix without falling asleep, checking their watch, or staring at the stack of papers in the readers hands, angling to see if they're almost finished.

Opium events have always been successful because they're pitched as a party that happens to have a reading attached to it. But that's not the reality. I think that just relaxes people and let's them know they're going to have fun and enjoy a few surprises. Plus, we want everyone in the room to meet everyone else in the room. People leave their houses at night to have an experience-to be inspired, to laugh, meet someone they find attractive physically or mentally. We're in full support of those things. When our events are over, we want our audience to have heard some knockout readers, met some fun/brilliant people they call their friends and say: I can't believe you missed this! It was so fun!

Of course, we have OpiumMagazine.live, now. We record the readings, and then put a different reader on the site weekly that can be downloaded to an iPod, or listened to as an MP3. So the called-friends don't have to miss everything.

Some other tricks to staging a good reading? Read the readers' stories beforehand. Be excited as fuck that people have shown up. Show short films. Invite writers you love to read. Don't just read the bios of the performers-freelance!

How did you get into video game writing? What are some of the best and worst things about covering games?
Right out of university, I lucked into a job at Playboy, which led to luck breaking into the gaming industry. I've always been a big gamer, but never liked the way games were written about (though that's changed for the better, now). As I grew as a games writer, I was able to break away from editor position at Official PlayStation Magazine, and started to freelance for The Onion's AV Club, Wired, MTV.com, along with the gaming magazines I had worked with. The best thing about covering games: it's a new technology, and you can really break some serious ground with well thought out stories (Stephen Totilo is one of a handful of games writer that I think is doing this, now). But the worst things: the mainstream media is still surprisingly tough to break into for stories focused around gaming (besides Grand Theft Auto and Halo, they're really not that into it). While publications like the New York Times will write weekly about dance and theater, they're hesitant to write about games on a week-to-week basis. But it's a process. In five years, that won't be the case.

Do you make a writing schedule, or do you fit in your own writing whenever you can?
Life in New York City-heck, for anyone trying to make things happen-is hectic. Opium takes a huge chunk of my time, along with my day job, now that I'm taking a break from writing about games.

But with all the to-do's, I still put fiction in the driver's seat. It's just that I'm not allowed to have a writing schedule because of the other commitments-I just fit it in during my work day (tell no one!), or in the late evening hours.

I'm a bit freer, now, as I just finished a novel-which counts as one albatross off my dinner plate-but now I'm looking to get the novel agented, so there's a new time-suck of a challenge. With the novel done, though, I'm finally finding time to complete my four-part "Children's Books for Adults Without Pictures" series (the second of which was nominated for the Pushcart Prize!). Which I better get back to ...