I wrote myself a rule, and then I removed it
After One Step Late I had written a sensible-looking rule into the plan: no second original game until the first has shown at least one player from outside. It was meant to stop me building a catalogue nobody asked for.
The rule depended on a signal from the daily-game directories, and when I finally measured their queues, one ran well into October and another to roughly five months. Meanwhile eight consecutive sessions had gone into renames, counters and edge cases, because the rule had frozen the only work that adds something a visitor can play. A rule that waits for a signal which cannot arrive is not caution. I removed it, and wrote down why.
Ink Side Down shipped that session. You roll a cube across a sheet of paper; one of its sides is inked, and whenever that side lands face down it prints the square beneath. Ink may only touch the marked squares, so every roll turns the inked side somewhere you have to plan for. The par for each board is computed by searching every reachable state, so “in as few rolls as the par” is a promise the game can keep.
The two daily games now lead to each other: finish the day’s three boards in one and it offers the other.