Also, I will be a guest at two upcoming conventions: SoonerCon and FenCon. Hope to see you there!

His set up set him back about 20,000 (that’s about $32,000 in USD)

He has some really amazing photos.  

Check them all out at his web site and gallery.

Well done, Peter.

At least one of the dogs liked it:

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

I recently encountered this quote from Jack Kerouac. It pretty much sums up the reason I write:

I want to work in revelations, not just spin silly tales for money. I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand because they are the same that far down.
 
– Jack Kerouac

Rather than give a complete blow-by-blow, I’m just going to hit the highlights.  I’m sure a lot happened that I won’t even touch on, since there are so many tracks to follow.

Writer’s Workshop

Keith R. A. DeCandido Conducting Writer’s Workshop at Fencon VI

I had pretty much committed to myself that I wouldn’t do the writer’s workshop this year.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy doing them . . . I love doing them.  But the time commitment is fairly substantial.  If you’re in class with nineteen other writers, that’s nineteen critiques you have to do.  That’s a lot of crits.

But then I heard that Keith R. A. DeCandido was teaching the class, and that it was to be a series of lectures and question and answer sessions with no crits involved.  Count me in.  And I’m glad I attended.  Keith did a great job of covering the business side of writing.  And as he put it, he tried to cover the topics that no one else covers.  He did an excellent job.

Filk

Filker Tom Smith

The Filk presence at FenCon continues to be strong.  Carla Ulbrich was the musical guest of honor.  She’s always been one of my favorites.  She’s an excellent entertainer and performer.  Her hubby, Joe G performed also.  He’s technically dazzling, interjecting Michael Hedges-like two-handed tapping techniques, and his own brand of humor.  And Tom Smith was at his hilarious best.

Panels

I went to several panels, and they were all good.  Of special note was the “Endings” panel with C.T. Adams, Paul Black, Lois McMaster Bujold, Paul Cornell, and my friend Julia Mandala.  As the panel put it, lots of people hammer into our heads the importance of starting a story off with a bang.  But ending with a memorable ending that is surprising yet satisfying is a huge challenge and often overlooked.

The DIY Self-Promotion for Writers and Artists with Kurt Miller, Real Musgrave, Muff Musgrave, Gloria Oliver, Rie Rose, Steve Wedel, and Cat Conrad was excellent. I heard this same theme time and again at FenCon this year: There’s only one person in charge of your career: You. 

The main guests were great.  Paul Cornell is insane.  In a good way.  I also enjoyed Lois McMaster Bujold.  Her keynote address wasn’t a speech at all.  Right away she opened up the session to questions.  The audience kept her busy.  The session could have gone on for hours. 

One of my perennial favorites is the “Four Redheads of the Apocalypse”
press conference, where Yard Dog Press writers, and friends, Linda L. Donahue, Julia S. Mandala, Dusty Rainbolt, and Rhonda Eudaly presented a press conference–in character–each of them portraying their character creations in FROTA.  The session was capped off by a visit from Selina (Satan) Rosen who maintained the force her evil will by threatening to punish the disobedient by making them eat barbecued marshmallows.

R2D2 at FenCon VI

Of particular interest was the life-sized R2D2 showcased by Glenn Pipe from Dallas Personal Robotics Group.  R2D2 is a remote controlled robot that Glenn has been working on for many months.  It moves about and makes the endearing sounds of the “realthing.”  One really cool aspect of R2 is that he has an onboard camera and Wi-Fi that allows passers by to “tune in” with a personal device such as an iPhone, and see what R2 sees.  Glenn can also use an iPhone as a remote control for R2D2.  This is really cool stuff.

The thing that probably floated my boat more than anything was Howard Waldrop.  I caught “An Hour With Howard Waldrop” hosted by Brad Denton. 

Howard Waldrop at FenCon VI

Stories (the spoken kind) flew as Brad and Howard regaled the audience with tales of days gone by.  During the session, Brad questioned Howard about the myths and legends of Howard Waldrop, and Howard debunked or affirmed them.  Brad recounted of having heard that some fans had seen Howard on an elevator at a con just minutes before he was to participate in a reading of his works.  Howard wrote studiously on a yellow legal pad.  Legend has it that when asked what he was working on, he told his fans that he was finishing the story he would be reading to his audience in a few short minutes.

I attended Howards reading on Sunday.  And sure enough, moments before his reading, I saw him seated in the hotel bar, writing in his yellow pads.  Later he confessed that he was notactually writing the story.  Rather he was transcribing it into larger print so he could see to read it.  Hearing Howard read was a real treat.

That’s it for this year.  I hope to see you at the next con.

But I really enjoyed writing many of those posts, so I have decided to migrate them over to this blog.  I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. 

I recently took my moon-dawg.com blog site down, but you can see these posts in their original format here.

So a few days later, we are at Shae’s school for a parent/teacher conference. Shae is in a cheerful mood.

“My dad and I went to see Final Destination 3,” she says to her teacher.

Ms. Covington raises an eyebrow as if to say “Nice wholesome entertainment.”

Come on, I say to myself. She’s almost seventeen.

“My dad laughed every time someone died,” she said.

“I did not,” I protested.

“Yes you did,” she said.

So I thought about it. Some of the deaths were pretty funny, but I don’t think I laughed when the nail gun used a girl’s head for a pincushion, or when the preppy chicks turned into french-fries in the tanning beds. But I did laugh at some of the others.

“Okay, maybe I laughed at some of them,” I said.

“He was the only one laughing,” she continued.

Now, I’m starting to feel bad.

So we go into her counselor’s office.

“We saw Final Destination 3. Dad laughed every time someone died.”

Nice, the counselor said, not with words, but with her expression.

A few days later, she tells me, “Hey Dad, everyone thinks you’re twisted for laughing every time someone died in FD3.”

Everyone? “Who all did you tell?”

“My friends, my friends’ parents. My psychiatrist.”

“Your shrink? You told your shrink?”

She smiled smugly.

So I am thinking, A) No wonder this kid has a psychiatrist. Her dad laughs every time someone dies. B) Her psychiatrist is probably signing the papers now to have me committed.

So, I’ve been waiting ever since for the other shoe to fall.

One more time, as loud as you can, how does it go?

They’re coming to take me away, ha, ha, ho, ho, hee, hee…

“And while you’re looking at it,” I said, “Could you see if you guys can get the front bumper back on? It’s sittin’ in the back seat.”

“The bumper?” asked Jack, one of the nicest service writers you’ll ever meet. “You mean the bumper cover? It’s a big plastic piece.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That thing.”

The bumper is that big black ugly thing that the bumper cover attaches to.

As Jack busied himself at the computer, Cecilia and Brandon, the other service writers on duty, made small talk.

Jack typed in all the things we had discussed. He typed, asked a question, then typed some more.

Finally he asked, “How do you spell ‘fascia’?”

Fascia?

That stopped Cecilia and Brandon stone cold. “What?” They asked in unison. Cecilia looked at Jack like he had worms crawling out of his ears.

“I think it starts with an ‘F’,” I offered.

“What are you talking about?” Brandon asked.

“The bumper cover,” Jack replied. “It’s called a fascia.”

Now, Brandon looked at Jack like he had worms crawling out of his ears.

“Just say ‘bumper cover’,” Brandon said with no enthusiasm. The coffee hadn’t yet kicked in. “Those guys back there won’t know what you’re talking about if you say ‘fascia’.”

Jack nodded. “Bumper cover.”

Darned six-cylinder words.

***

This incident reminded me of another brush with an anomalous vocabulary that happened a few years back.

Daughter Ray, who’s now 20, was a freshman in high school. Her freshman year, she was a cheerleader. A big football game was coming up, and the girls were in the gym making signs. Signs like “Go ‘Stangs!” and “Yea, Team!”

Ray and her cheerleader friends busied themselves with painting signs and hanging them in the gym so the signs could be transported to the football field once they were dry.

In walks the coach. He eyes each of the signs, smiling and nodding. His eye catches one sign in particular, and he reads it out loud.

“Pul-ver-ize the Panthers.”

He pauses for a moment and then says, “Girls, you can’t use big words like that. This is football. Those guys out there on the field aren’t going to know what you’re talking about.”

Pul-ver-ize.

He turns and leaves.

Sheesh! Darned six-cylinder words.