Monday, June 30, 2014

Con Report: ConTemporal, Sunday

Sunday began with two of my favorite lit panel topics: “The Best of Middle School and YA Books” with GOH Emilie Bush, JM Lee, and Marina Segeyeva; and “Effective Writing Collaboration” with teams Tanith Tyrr and Todd Stewart, and Clay and Susan Griffith.

I would also have liked to sit in on “YApocalypse”, with JM Lee and Chris Berman discussing the popularity of post-apocalyptic dystopias in YA literature.

A fun panel rounded out the schedule for our lit guests, “Artsist vs. Others Pictionary”, with The Traveling Revelers, Emilie Bush, The Gin Rebellion, Danny Birt, Scotty Sunshine, and Clay & Susan Griffith.

The day was both long (we were all feeling pretty tired by this final day) and too short, as we left closing ceremonies and began the mad round of goodbyes and taking down all the framework of “Chicago 1933”, returning the North Raleigh Hilton to “normal”.

Port Raleigh destabilized, and the ConTemporal departed for another year of adventure, scheduled to return when Port Raleigh restabilizes next year —in 1632. :)

I want to give a *huge* round of applause and thanks to the fantastic literary and crossover guests who joined us this year:

Guests of Honor
Emilie P. Bush
Dave Lee
Aleta Pardalis

Literary and “Crossover” Guests
Suzanne Adair
Chris Berman
Danny Birt
Clay & Susan Griffith
JM Lee
Jean-Michel Margot
Misty Massey
Marina Sergeyeva
Winfield Strock
Tanith Tyrr & Todd Stewart
Mark Van Name
Suzanne Warr
Allen Wold
Darcy Wold

I also want to give a “shout out” to Daughter, who worked hard as a “minion” all weekend, wherever she was needed. We got Fitbit bracelets right before the con, and she outpaced me every day. All through the weekend, staff stopped me in the hall to tell me what a great help she had been. That’s my girl.

Dogs in house:
Houdini


Music
Arcangelo Corelli - The Best Of Arcangelo Corelli Concerto Grosso, Op. 6


Time writing
Too long, and interrupted by cute animal pictures


June word count
11,301


Con Report: ConTemporal, Saturday

Saturday started early for ConTemporal’s fledgling writers’ track, with new guest Suzanne Adair’s workshop on “Plotting with the Hero’s Journey and Creating Archetypal Characters”. Given that this was a new addition to the con, I wasn’t sure how much of an audience we would have. I confess I was disappointed to only have two people pre-registered, but ultimately seven people participated, which is an excellent number for a first-time workshop offering, and a good size group for interactive discussion.

The next morning lit panel was “Nostalgia for the Future”, with Guest of Honor Emilie P. Bush and new-to-the-con guest Winfield Strock, talking about why the science fictions visions from the past continue to hold so much power over our imagination.

A spate of mid-morning panels included “Under Sung Heroines and Heroes”, with GOH Emilie Bush, as well as Lady Attercop, Tanith Tyrr, Emmett Davenport, the Gin Rebellion, and JM Lee—discussing women and minorities in leading roles in literature, comics, movies, games, and more.

One of my personal projects came to fruition as we brought in Jean-Michel Margot, one of the world’s leading experts on the life and writings of Jules Verne. Margot gave a wonderful presentation on Verne’s life and his role in the early rise of science fiction and “fantastic tales”—to the extent that we are not even aware of how completely Vernian references have infiltrated into our culture. Margot has also been instrumental in bringing out a series of Vernian stories that had never before been translated into English. As Margot says, if Verne had not told his Extraordinary Tales, steampunk may never have come about!

One disappointment is that we didn’t have a larger audience for Margot’s first presentation. And although he had graciously agreed to give a second presentation for the Apprentice track, we didn’t have *any* attendees for that. Daughter and I enjoyed sitting and talking with him during that time, however. We also learned that Margot leads a monthly geology walk at Occoneechee Mountain in Hillsborough, which we will definitely plan to join soon.

This is one of the perpetual frustrations of con running—you simply never know how many people will “tune into” any given event. I’ve had concerts with three people in the audience, and panels with more panelists than audience participants, and “meet the guest” tables with no visitors. At best, the few enjoy the time together, often with unexpected discussions. At worst, the guest(s) feel unappreciated, and the con runners are left scratching their heads over how to do it better next time. I do indeed have a few ideas about how to do it better next time, and I’m already talking with people about some of those ideas.

The morning also included a “Meet the Guests” session with Clay and Susan Griffith, longtime supporters of ConTemporal. I always enjoy talking with the Griffiths, and we truly appreciate their enthusiastic and gracious participation.

The Griffiths joined another new-to-the-con guest, Suzanne Warr, as well as Braxton Ballew of Valentine Wolf, to discuss the comic book heroes and mythos of the 30s and 40s—tying into the overall theme of the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair.

We had a lunchtime trio of “Meet the Guest” sessions with Danny Birt, Misty Massey, and Mark Van Name. Early afternoon sessions followed with our two Suzannes—Suzanne Adair and Suzanne Warr.

The afternoon started off with Allen Wold’s “world of writing” workshop, featuring panelists Darcy Wold, Misty Massey, and Danny Birt. I’ve participated in this workshop perhaps half a dozen times in the past, and I find it invaluable for beginning new stories and receiving immediate feedback from published authors and editors on how to improve the beginning in a way to draw the reader along further into the story. We also had about half a dozen participants in this workshop, and I am sure they gained a lot from the experience.

Our fledgling writers track included a discussion with Chris Berman on “Writing Effective Air Combat Scenes” and with Suzanne Warr and Danny Birt on “Writing Humor”. As with so many other panels, I would really have enjoyed listening to these! The downside to *working* a con is that you don’t really get to attend very much of it! Last year, I made a point of participating in Allen’s workshop, and I didn’t make a similar commitment to attend any one thing this year. As a result, I really didn’t attend *any* of the lit or writing track events. I think that’s something I need to do for myself next year and in the future!

A great writing/gaming crossover panel idea centers around “world building”. Allen Wold moderated a panel featuring Todd Stewart, Tanith Tyrr, Mark Van Name, and Win Strock as they discussed building worlds that make sense within their own reality. This overall idea is one I hope to build upon as we grow our writers’ track.

Several of our guests were willing storytellers for “Steamkids Storytime”—another under-attended session that I hope will grow in the future. Our thanks to Emilie Bush, Danny Birt, Scotty Sunshine, Sarah Black, and Stephen Chapman!

As the sun went down, the seamier side of 1933 Chicago emerged, with speakeasies, gin joints, burlesque shows, and the infamous “Creeper Capone” and his nefarious gang. Daughter and I retreated for a quieter evening relaxing in our room.


Dogs in house:
Houdini


Time writing
 ~45 minutes


June word count
 11,000


Sunday, June 29, 2014

Con Report: ConTemporal, Thursday and Friday

There are so many elements to convention planning, and the weeks and days before build in intensity in so many ways. This year I served as director of the literary and writers’ tracks, finding and inviting guests to participate in writing workshops and discussion panels. Daughter helped with discovering many of the area’s local steampunk authors, and she is helping this weekend as my “Lit Minion”. 

Thursday has become “the new Friday”, as people arrive onsite at the convention location. Daughter and I spent the day preparing for the long weekend and finally made our way to the hotel. ConTemporal celebrates guests and staff with a Thursday night dinner, and it was wonderful to see so many familiar faces and still meet a few new friends. Daughter and I sat with the lovely couple of Valentine Wolfe, as well as Scotty Sunshine and one of the founders of the Traveling Revelers. And Members of Nerdvana, the Triangle’s only geek burlesque show, delighted us with a brief after-dinner show, sort of a “teaser” of their performances over the weekend. We finished the evening with a late night swim in the hotel’s indoor pool, newly converted to saline, and relaxing in the hot tub, with jets if no real heat.

Friday morning began with the hustle and bustle of transforming the hotel into “Port Raleigh”. Unlike general or broad-based cons, ConTemporal is an *experiential* steampunk convention, with a cast of characters role-playing a storyline that’s been developing for the past three years. It’s exciting to see the space transform from bare rooms into multi-room stage, and then staff wearing t-shirts and jeans disappear and reappear in character, sporting top hats, corsets, skirts, and lots and lots of beautiful fabrics and leather. Throw enough gears and blinking lights around, et voila, steampunk!

Don’t mistake me, I have great admiration for the cosplayers and makers who work incredibly hard and bring tremendous creativity to their costumes and inventions!

Last year, I stepped in the last few weeks before the convention to run registration. We were so fortunate to have two fabulous volunteers who agreed to return and run registration this year (and next). Daughter and I helped in the opening hours, before the first literary panels of the weekend. She hekped out in reg throughout the weekend, but they really didn't need much from me at all, which freed me to attend to the lit and eriters panels and workshops.

We opened with an excellent panel, “What is Dieselpunk”, since the theme of this year’s ConTemporal centers around the 1933 Chicago World’s Fair (and a crossover with the inter-galactic Worlds’ Fair). Misty Massey and Doctor Q rose to the challenge to discuss everything from Art Deco and pulp heroes to swing music and noir that embody dieselpunk.

At the same time, a mix of costuming and literary guests joined to create “Five Minute Backstories” for cosplayers who wanted to add depth to their characters.

A more serious panel discussion on “What can professional organizations off the writer” was led by Suzanne Warr, Mark Van Name, and JM Lee.

And my longtime friend, author and musician Danny Birt, was on hand in the “Meet the Guests” area of the Bizarre Bazaar (aka “dealers room”). I want to give a “shout out” to Danny, because later in the evening, there was a hustle-and-bustle to unexpectedly provide entertainment in one of the large ballrooms. Someone asked me if I could get in touch with Danny. “Hi Danny, I have a huge favor to ask you. Would you be willing to play in impromptu concert. Um…now?” “I…could do that…I’ll get my guitar and be there in a few minutes.” What a great guest, and a great guy!

Before the impromptu concert, however, we had another round of panels, including “Are writers workshops for you?”, with Chris Berman, Darcy Wold, and Clay & Susan Griffith.

JM Lee, Suzanne Warr were joined by one of the Gin Rebellion to discuss “The steampunking of American culture”. And Dave Lee, Braxton Ballew, and Win Strock talked about “Steampunk 101”. I enjoyed Dave’s pithy description of steampunk. “In the late 1800s, the whole world was changing, not just Victorian England, but Europe, India, China, America. You can take any character from any part of the world from that time, and ‘punk’ it—make it your own. Give it your own unique flavor, whatever that is.” And I’m pretty sure it was Braxton who added, “Just throw in a few gears and flashing lights…”—a la our dinner conversation from the night before. :)

I also enjoyed chatting late in the evening with the lovely and talented Wendy Mehndi, as she drew a beautiful henna design on my arm. I’ve received many compliments over the weekend, from congoers and regular folk alike.

With Daughter in attendance, I didn’t partake of the more “unsavory” entertainments designed to foster the 1930s Chicago flavor. I still managed to stay up way too late, talking with lots of friends—often the best part of any convention.

Music
Leona Boyd, Baroque Favorites


Time writing
Far too long


June word count
10,078


Thursday, June 26, 2014

Prompt: Magical Words and ConTemporal

Two years ago, I met and befriended many of the authors involved with MagicalWords.net, a daily blog site about the craft and business of writing. This week, I posted my first entry on the site, and it feels like a major milestone. I wasn’t alone—it was part of a group blog about a writers’ retreat we held after ConCarolinas at the beginning of June. I didn’t expect the thrill of seeing my post under the masthead, with the intro, “The Blogger”. Hey, that’s me!

And here’s the rest of the group: Writer’sRetreats — Our Thoughts, Part One 

Meanwhile, June sees another milestone for me: the first time I have served as Literary Track Director for a fan-run convention, this one centered around a steampunk theme. ConTemporal opens in Raleigh, NC on Friday afternoon, and I’ve helped to bring in a great group of authors and “crossover” guests (authors who are also costumers or gamers or makers):

Guests of Honor
Emilie P. Bush
Dave Lee
Aleta Pardalis

Literary and “Crossover” Guests
Suzanne Adair
Chris Berman
Danny Birt
Clay & Susan Griffith
JM Lee
Jean-Michel Margot
Misty Massey
Marina Sergeyeva
Winfield Strock
Tanith Tyrr & Todd Stewart
Mark Van Name
Suzanne Warr
Allen Wold
Darcy Wold

Check out the ConTemporal website , and if you’re in the area, come “step into the story” of this experiential steampunk convention for a day or the whole weekend!

Here’s a fabulous, fun video that gives you a taste of last year’s ConTemporal: 


Dogs in house:
Houdini, Brindle


Time writing
45 minutes


June word count
9,272


Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Prompt: What price magic? Part 3


I nodded and shook his hand, pressing into it a few of Suphora’s and my hard-earned coins from my honest work in the market.

I found Suphara surrounded by kind women, who dried her tears and brushed out her hair, braiding it into the long coils they once again wrapped around her delicate neck. I went to the baker and bought the rest of his day-old bread to share with them, to thank them for mothering her for a little while.

That night, we curled up together by the fire, and I held both her hands together in mine. “Suphara, why did you tell the medico you never breathed the poison smoke? You told me the first night we met about how the infidels burned your village and your parents died from breathing the smoke after they brought you here.”

She began to cry. “I didn’t want those memories, so I used them for my magic.” She sniffled and pulled a hand free to wipe her eyes and nose on her sleeve.

“I don’t understand,” I complained, thinking about her magic. “How do you use memories for your magic?”

She sat up and rested her hands on her knees. “There is always a price for magic,” she said. “Each time I use magic, it costs a memory.

“Every time? What do you mean, it costs a memory?”

“I don’t remember that memory anymore. That’s why I separate my memories every day, into those I want to keep, and those I want to use.”

I remembered her hands moving the first time we met, and suddenly it all fell into place. But… “Then you should not use so much! You'll use up all your memories!”

She dropped her head and said softly, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have that many good memories to keep. Better to use them for magic that helps make our lives better, don’t you think?”

Exhausted by the day, we lay down. She rested her head on my shoulder and fell asleep. I still held her hand and listened to her breathing. Before I fell asleep, I whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll remember them for you, then.”

To be continued?


Dogs in house:
Houdini


Time writing
~1 hour


June word count
9,012

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Prompt: What price magic? Part 2


And just like that, we were inseparable. Suphara was eight, and her parents had brought her into the city last spring, after the infidels burned their village. But they had both inhaled too much of the poison smoke, and they died when the air turned cold a few months later.

She’d been on her own for over a year when we met. From that day, we took care of each other, often sleeping in the basement where we first met, roaming all over the city. Suphara convinced me not to steal, because she could always produce food on demand, or light a fire. She never seemed reluctant to do so, and I never gave a second thought to her magic. Soon the market owners began to trust I was no longer a thief, and they paid me to run errands and help them. I forgot all about what she said when we first met. If anything, I remembered the pomegranate.

But she told me about her parents the first night we lay together by the fire I built and she lit, as we shared stories for hours before we fell asleep, hands entwined. So I was puzzled when, some months later, we waited in line to see one of the infrequent visiting medicos who setup camp in the market square and freely offered their services to any in need.

When it was our turn, Suphara clutched my hand so tightly it hurt. I told the medico we were brother and sister, and could I stay to comfort her? He nodded gravely as he unwrapped her long braids from around her neck. They draped almost to the floor, and her skin was pale and wrinkled from their weight. As he listened to her heart and to her breathing, he frowned. “My child, have you been exposed to the poison smoke of the infidels from across the sea? I fear I hear it in your lungs, and there is an irregular pattern to your heartbeat.”

Suphara said, “No, sir. I have not.”

I started and pulled my hand free of hers in confusion. “What are you talking about? You told me they burned your village!”

She paled and jumped up, running from the room with her braids trailing behind her. I ran to the doorway and saw one of the market women grab her into a tight embrace as Suphora sobbed on her shoulder. Turning back to the medico, I asked, “Why would she not tell you the truth?”

He shrugged. “Memory can be a funny thing. Sometimes, when memories are too terrible, it’s better to forget them. But this is dangerous for her. She must never take even one more breath of the poison smoke, or it could kill her. She might not want to remember why, but she must remember that. Will you help her?”



Dogs in house:
Houdini


Time writing
~1 hour


June word count
8,975



Sunday, June 22, 2014

Prompt: What price magic? Part 1

I was ten when I met Suphara. On the streets for three years already, I knew all the best hiding places and escape routes around the market. I was running away from fat old Bophat, who ran faster than you’d think he should, when I ducked under the city’s terra cotta water pipes and dropped into the basement of one of the Sepphir’s  abandoned warehouses.

But the basement wasn’t abandoned, and I rolled behind a support column, trying to breather silently though my lungs were begging for more air. I’d only gotten a glimpse of someone, and when I heard no noise, I finally leaned around the column for a peek.

A girl sat cross-legged on a woven mat. Her eyes were closed, her traditional braids were wrapped around her neck, and her hands were out in front of her. She held then both palm up, then turned her right hand over and pushed it to the side. Then her left hand turned over and pushed down almost to the ground. Her right hand flipped upright and lifted above her head, then slid to the left as far as she could reach without turning. What was she doing? I crept closer.

“I’m sorting memories,” she said quietly, and I was so surprised that I almost fell back on my rear end. I didn’t speak out loud, did I?

“No, but you think very loudly,” she said; and when she smiled, I fell in love. With a shake of my head, I tried to push that thought down somewhere where she wouldn’t hear it. While I was thinking about that, I finally heard what she had first said.

“Sorting memories?” I asked. “Why?”

She kept her eyes closed and her hands moving. I watched, fascinated.

“Because some I want to keep, and some I will use,” she said. Opening her eyes, she drew her hands together, fingertips cupped as if she held something. The air shimmered, and I squinted to see what she was doing. She opened her hands, and a pomegranate rested on her palm, large and red. My mouth watered at the sight.

“How did you do that?” I asked in wonder.

She laughed. “Magic, of course, silly.” She tore open the fruit and handed half of it to me. I scooted closer and pulled it out of her hand.

“Can you teach me,” I asked, sucking on a handful of the rich seeds. “That would be so awesome!”

Laughing again, she said, “I don’t think so. You either have magic or you don’t. If you don’t know about it by now, I don’t think you have it,” she said thoughtfully, spitting out a few pits.

She didn’t tell me the price then, and I was so excited about the pomegranate and the idea of magic, that I forgot what she said about sorting memories.



Dogs in house:
Houdini


Time writing
~1 hour


June word count
8,975



Saturday, June 21, 2014

Prompt: A tattoo artist, an abandoned hotel, a mysterious book, Part 2


Sarah walked in through the open doorway and stopped cold, staring open-mouthed.

Danny sat on a rolling bar stool he’d found in the first floor offices. As he worked, he braced his right wrist over his left forearm, balancing the tattoo gun over his current design. It was exhausting working like this, without resting the tip of the gun on skin. He held a cloth in his left hand, and with practiced ease, he lifted the gun and pulled his left arm backward over the design, wiping the ink away as his hands hovered over empty air.

Glancing at the book lying flat next to him, Danny nodded and returned to his work. “It’s looking good,” he said to the empty room. “We should be able to finish this up in a couple more sessions.”

“Danny!” Sarah exclaimed.

The book crashed to the floor.

Danny jerked his gun up away from his design and swore. “Dammit, Sarah! What are you doing here?”

“Really? Really?! What am *I* doing here? Danny, what are *you* doing? And why is that design floating in the air…”

Sarah’s face lost color, and she lifted  a hand to her temple, taking a stumbling step forward.

Danny stood up fast and set his tattoo gun and cloth on the table. Reaching for her, he stood between her and the design, drawing her to sit in his chair. Hands on her shoulders, he pushed the chair back toward the far wall.

“Sarah, honey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Everything’s okay.”

TBC?

Dogs in house:
Houdini


Time writing
20 minutes


June word count
7,705