The Year Ahead: Rowan Zeoli

We did it, y’all. We made it. Now that 2025 has properly begun, and we’ve left 2024 in the annals of history where it belongs, it’s my turn to round out our Rascal Reflects mini-series. I had a lot of thoughts, and as per usual, I ended up writing — maybe too much. But that’s all for you, dear reader. 

2024 was a year of high high and impossibly low lows. 2025 is suited to be…something, to say the least. But we’ll all be in it together, making our way through the waves of bullshit to the island paradise of games. 

My Favorite Story I wrote in 2024

Alright, starting off with the hardest question of the year. For Rascal, I wrote nearly 100 articles over the course of the last 10-ish months. That’s a lot of journalism babies. Some of them, I’ll admit, were duds (see my “Lessons I Learned” section). I think the easy answer for me is my investigation into World of Game Design, for obvious reasons, but I think I’m going to be annoying, as is my right. I liked a lot of the stuff that I wrote! Sue me!

My favorite pieces of criticism I wrote this year were my piece on Farewell, Goodnight about chronic illness and memory and — what I humbly believe to be the best piece of cultural actual play criticism out there (maybe because its one of the only ones) — my piece on Voices In The Wood that uses Tales Yet Told’s dissection of American suburbia and empire to explore my own relationship to it as a white trans woman. 

Some of my favorite interviews (because there are…so many) include my talk with RahRah and Feral from The Heart Is A Dungeon, my reflection on Dimension 20 with Orion D Black, my piece on grief with Dark Dice’s Travis Vangroff, my discussion with Dr. Em Friedman on whether people can actually make a living in tabletop, and my first ever big piece where I spoke with Montana State Representative Zooey Zephyr and acclaimed journalist Erin Reed.

There’s also what I believe to be essential reporting. That includes my labor coverage with Tabletop Workers United, how Covid has impacted the tabletop industry, my climate reporting on the Brazilian flooding and the impact of Hurricane Helene, the coverage of Gen Con and the Crit Awards, an explanation of the Ticketmaster debacle with the Dimension 20 live show, and my political coverage on government wargaming, liberal fundraising, and personal experience playing Rom Com Drama Bomb during the (first) attempted assassination of our now president-elect. 

I could go into my favorite pieces that other people wrote, but that would be a whole other section, and these are my reflections. (But Nima Dabirian’s piece on the tabletop scene in Iran is at the top of that list.)  

But more than anything else, I got to write about the cultural connection between the desire for authenticity in both actual play and porn. And where else could I do that, besides at Rascal.

Favorite Game I Played This Year

I wish I could say this was a tough one for me, but I did not get to play as many games as I would’ve like this year. Most of them, like Bloodbeam Badlands, Deathmatch Island, Blades in the Dark, I’m sorry…did you say street magic?, and Seven Part Pact all made our Lay It On The Table column this year. (Okay, looking back on it, that’s a lot of games.)But my favorite game I played this year – and maybe ever – was another Elliot Davis joint, The Time We Have. Played on the opposite sides of a closed door, The Time We Have is a card-based duet game about two brothers in a zombie apocalypse, living out the final six days before one of them succumbs to their infection. I got the opportunity to play it with Dillin Apelyan, a person who has become (largely thanks to this game) one of my closest friends. We explored the trauma of chronic illness and being the one who survives in a way that I will not mine for content. That’s why, among other reasons, this was my favorite game. As a game, The Time We Have hits. But even more, it provided an intimate, cathartic experience that is for no one but me and Dillin. Not even you, dear reader.

Games I Want To Play in 2025

Well, if you read my post-PAX burnout piece, you’ll know I got…maybe too many games. I’ll admit it. I am a glutton for physical media. Is it my tendency to want to collect myself with reflections of humanity’s inherently hopeful creative pursuit, my desperate fear of a time when digital media (like this very site) will simply be turned off, or just a mild case of hoarding — who’s to say. 

There are so many games I want to play in 2025. I would love to play in a campaign of any game, truly. My one-off sessions are great to get a taste for systems, to learn the landscape of the industry, but I want to play campaigns that allow me to occupy another perspective, returning back to the table and seeing how they (and I) have changed over the course of months (dare I say, years). 

But, to give a straightforward answer, of games I’ve already played, I would love to do full campaigns of Triangle Agency, Yazeba’s Bed & Breakfast, and Deathmatch Island. To try for the first time? I’d love to find out what’s going on with The Between. 

What I Learned This Year

Quality over quantity, every time. I’ve learned so much this year. I learned how to run a business, how to file taxes for said business, how to keep that business running amid an unending series of crises and trust that the people around me will make it all work. I learned that I need to take more rest than I’ve given myself — and actual real rest, not doomscrolling. I learned that being precious about something isn’t the same as wanting to be proud of it, and that rushing to the finish line will only hurt in the long run. I learned I don’t want to write content, I want to write journalism, criticism, and talk to people who have different perspectives on the things I believe to be true.

Maybe most importantly, I’ve learned that there’s a difference between your enemies and your allies, even if those allies seem like they might come from unlikely places. Leftists love to eat each other; we love to be pure and unsure the people around us are pure too. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that no one's pure. There are plenty of enemies in abstract, but in reality, they are much fewer and farther between than we may assume. There are people at the top of our society, actively working to bring it all down so they can maximize their profit, while convincing those below them that their enemies are anywhere else. I’ve learned compassion for mistakes, both in myself and others. Journalism is about keeping those in power to account, supporting and minimizing harm to those suffering, all while highlighting everything that makes this world beautiful. 

My phrase last year, and one I’ll continue to carry with me into 2025, is “Praxis is knowing where to direct your anger.” And if there’s one thing I’m going to keep doing, it’s knowing who to be angry at and knowing who deserves a little grace.

A 2025 Prediction

I have a lot of thoughts about the future of games and actual play, but I’m a journalist not a prophet (probably). So let’s break out the tarot cards. I’ll do a little three card spread, one for where we’ve been, one for where we are, and one for where we’re headed. 

Where We’ve Been: The Ace of Pentacles — New beginnings, opportunities, potential

Where We Are: Three of Swords — Grief, loss, disappointment, a wake up call

Where We’re Going: Knight of Wands — Taking action, fearlessness, adventure, pursuing destiny

Now, I don’t read tarot cards. Those were the meanings I found on the internet. Take that as you will. Sure sounds good though, doesn’t it? 

Happy 2025, rascals. I can’t wait to do it all over again.