Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Saturday Celebration

This Saturday, March 31st, I get to go to one of my favorite places in the world, Minneapolis's own Once Upon a Crime Bookstore. Formally owned by Gary Shulze and Pat Frovarp, it has been taken over by the quite capable hands of the Abraham family and on Saturday they are holding their 31st Birthday bash for the store!

From 12 Noon to 2:00 p.m. 26 native sons and daughters will show up to mingle, chat and sign in an informal meet and greet so this is an especially great event for people who have always been too shy to come out to these things before.

I'm driving in from New Hampshire and then heading down to Florida. Someone told me it's on the way. So stop on by and say hello or ask me to introduce you to someone you'd really like to meet. That's always cool.


Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Post-Conference Sinus Headaches

I just returned from the Liberty States Writers Conference in Iselin, NJ. Wonderful folks--though a lack of impulse control may have left a poor impression on some of them--and my sinuses are killing me. Before that it was two days at the Maryland Writers Association (the other MWA) conference. Jessica Williams knows how to run a conference. Every event has its issues; the trick is not letting them show. She's the magician that knows the secrets.

Friday was a day of hanging out and speaking with various people as they attended the all-day events put on by author John Gilstrap and motivational guy/storytelling coach Michael Hauge. Saturday was a full day with presenting a workshop, moderating three panels, sitting in on one, having one break period, and then a book signing session.

From there I did what everyone else probably did: I drove to New Jersey for the Liberty States Conference. Got to Iselin about midnight, asleep at one, up for the breakfast event at too early o'clock. I did my back to back workshops in the early afternoon but it hurt me that I hadn't been there the day before--this wasn't a crime fiction conference per se, so without having had a chance to hang out with and meet people, I was just a name on a piece of paper. I probably had about ten people for each workshop, "Real Detectives," or what detectives actually do as opposed to what TV and movies and bad books try to make us think they do. And a repeat of my "Creative Wordplay: Dialogue vs. Exposition--how to use dialogue and exposition to advance your story" of the day before. Altogether I think I presented that one to around sixty people.

Both conferences have already asked me back, which is my measure of success, and the kind folks at Liberty Writers were talking about extending my time and promoting "Creative Wordplay" so more of their attendees could come to see it. Which is nice.

All of this is before they get their conference feedback, though. Next door to my "Real Detectives" workshop was one on "Flash Fiction." On the way to my room I noticed nobody was smiling. I stopped by, remarked on it, people laughed, and I continued on. Back in my room, a few people wanted to take a few minutes before we got started. Okay, that's fine. Dangerous, but fine.

The words "flash fiction" popped into my mind and how the overall vibe seemed to be kind of down. I peeled off my Spider pullover and told everybody I'd be right back. I went to the next room where they'd left their door open. One of the three presenters was standing up, speaking. The mostly full room had their backs to me. I untucked my polo shirt, grabbed the hem and pulled it up and over my face, leaning backwards. I heard a muffled, "That's not funny," from the speaker before I left, returning to my room and my own workshop.

It's still early, but I have yet to receive a formal invitation to next year's conference.

Friday, March 16, 2018

An Update is Occurring as We Speak

Finally or at last or why not, as we speak an updated website version is being ftp'ed up to the GoDaddy servers wherever they are. This has a small and not very good cover scan of The Digest Enthusiast, issue 7, where editor and publisher Richard Krauss took a very long conversation and turned it into a nice twenty-some pages of interview. He liked it so well he commissioned a portrait created of me for the cover. How much it actually looks like me, well, ah, um, I'll leave it to other people's imaginations.

The sad story behind it is that the painting was done by a guy named Joe Wehrle, Jr., whom I'd conversed with in the past on Harlan Ellison's board back in the days when the man himself would actually spend time there. The way I understand it, Joe complained of pain in his ear on December 10th and passed away on the 12th.

When I got back in town from wherever I was, there was a package for me dated December 5th. The return address was in Joe's handwriting. Inside was a nice note, the original artwork, and a few prints of other work that he'd done in the past. It was the first time I'd ever opened a package from a dead man.

I sent Joe's daughter an e-mail and she sent back a very nice reply where she told me that Joe had completed other work since he'd done the thing for The Digest Enthusiast which I found a comforting thought. I haven't thought about why and I don't think I will. Overall it's just a sad story.

So....

At last year's Creatures, Crimes & Creativity (C3) Conference in Columbia, Maryland, which is put on every year by Austin and Denise Camacho, Cynthia Lauth, and the other fine people at Intrigue Books, Jess Williams of the Maryland Writers Association talked to me about doing a workshop and moderating some panels at their conference this year. That's going to happen this coming Saturday, March 24th in Baltimore.

A few months after that, I received an e-mail from someone else asking if I'd do not just one but two workshops at their conference. I'd sent them something so much earlier that I'd actually forgotten about it and when the e-mail came, I thought it was for the same conference as the Maryland one. I wrote out a reply telling them that I was already coming but that I'd been dealing with Jess Williams when something made me stop and check it out....

This was for another conference completely. In New Jersey.

The first thing I did was delete my e-mail reply. Then I told them that I had another gig on Saturday but if they were willing, I could do both workshops on Sunday. The woman said she'd have to check with her board and long story short, this week is going to be busy.

On Wednesday I've got an all day dental thing going on. I think my dentist needs a new car. And when did these guys start working four-day weeks? And I used to wonder why people would want to work in other peoples' mouths. Clearly they knew something I didn't.

Thursday I head out for Baltimore by automobile. I bought a car that's supposed to be comfortable that even my bent and twisted spine can drive it for distance and so far it seems to be working. Friday I'll lurk the first day of the conference and hopefully relax a little after the hellish schedule I've been working (seriously). Saturday I'm on the floor from 8 until 6, presenting one workshop, appearing on one panel and moderating three others.

Good thing I'll have new teeth. At least temporary ones. Hint: don't guzzle a gallon of fresh-squeezed citrus juice every morning for years. Apparently the enamel of your teeth can't stand up. On the other hand, neither did all the Florida orange and grapefruit groves that are now office buildings. Try to find fresh-squeezed juice from an orchard anymore--I think your teeth are safe.

Saturday night I drive away to Iselin, New Jersey and present two workshops the next day, Sunday, March 25th. If I'm still able I'll drive back to New Hampshire that night, otherwise its hotel time. Stay around NH for a few days, then drive through the wild flats of Canada to Minneapolis for the 31st Anniversary event at Once Upon a Crime Books from mid-morning on.

And then, because there's no such thing as too many miles, or anything worth doing is worth over-doing, or hey, I haven't blown an engine in decades, I'll drive to Florida and see to a couple of things that need seeing to, like writing more of the next book and watching sunsets sink beneath lakes. Or maybe the Gulf of Mexico.

Wait, I just realize--then I'll have to drive back to New Hampshire, about 31 hours. And have another marathon (get it?) session with the dentist. I better have a better time in Florida than I'd planned.

How much trouble can you get in when you're on a soft food diet?