I'd been playing Amber for about two years, and like many, had become thoroughly addicted. I've toyed with the idea of GMing Amber from time to time, but I'm involved in so many games as a player, I could never make the time.
So all I have to say is, "it's all Dwinn's fault."
When Dark Patterns, the first Amber game I played in, came to an end after 2 years and 50 sessions of angst, silliness and wonderful role-playing, Dwinn, who was my partner-in-angst in Dark Patterns, was bemoaning the fact that with DPs end, he now needed a new Amber player fix, and that SOMEBODY should start a new game. I asked him if that was a subtle hint, to which he replied, "So subtle it was completely obvious."
Saying something like that to me is dangerous. It has been said (by Dwinn, in fact) that my imagination is locked into permanent overdrive, and when people egg me on like that, I always prove that remark true. So for a couple of weeks, the seed "run an Amber game" percolated quietly in the back of my mind. And when it was done percolating, it demanded that I sit down and write up 90% of the campaign setting in one afternoon.
I was in a creative fervor for a couple of days. My housemate, Will, who wouldn't play diceless games if his life depended on it, only chuckled, and said "I knew you would end up running an Amber game some day." My friends know me so well.
So, I emailed a couple of Amber-playing friends for some feedback, including my partner in all kind of madness Mer, whose reaction was enthusiastic, to put it mildly. "You have no choice, now. You're stuck. You HAVE to run this campaign..." she said.
And so I thought, 'Well, if Mer says I *have* to...'